THE WICKED WOODS OF TOBEREEVIL.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XIII, Issue 42, 12 February 1886, Page 5

THE WICKED WOODS OF TOBEREEVIL.

BY EOSA MULHOLLAND, AUTHOR OP "THE WILD BIRDS OF KILLEBVT," KTO.

CHAPTER XXXIX.-(ContinueJ.) So saying, she flung something right at Katherine's breast-th* mandrake which Katherine had carved for her, half in mSce Tand ini f fl mfa^ # an ° th e rti r Miss Archbold would bavTwhed and flung tbe thing back to her ; but now tbe terrified young 2 had got something m her mind which excluded both mirth md WSfcSLTE LSS-sr b " -'• wt ° •£ «^" -' " How had it happened ?" she repeated, with new meanine in her question, thinking that two creatures w thout reason had and quarrelled, and that both were dead " You snnwTf ™ V, said Katherine ; •• whom has he murdered ?" P murder," " Murther I" screamed Tibbie. " Who said he had murthered tUy Sf 11 V n^l Wa ° dareß to Bay U X>ll kiU then > wid thi?" She lifted a heavy stone and rushed towards Katherine who turned and fled round the corner of the cliff nor drew ™ h»P hZfIZ till she had toiled her way up again through L gorge TnS it Tstfe out of reach of her wretched and feeble foo. In f ear and trembuS she then continued her search, fully persuaded now that XS Thad been brought to an untimely death, but met nothing on the hi Us to relieve her suspense. At last when utterly wearieJ and nn»hl-l!!^ farther she returned to the castle, her fai wSfSd^hiStoJSS torn and disordered, no longer the proud beauty, only a scared an^ remorseful creature who had forgottea self at la 9t9 t in care fTv another Returning to her own dressing-room, however, she was start?S ♦« see the spectacle she had become, and the old KatherLe Arehto d revived within her again. -arenDoia ♦v ♦ COn £ what might there was nothing in tbe world worth the crief that could transform a woman like that. She would not be hazard and ugly, even if Paul were murdered and the Tobereevil treSS lost for ever. May must at all events, suffer qmto aTS o h £h£ self ; and May was a weak creature, and could not get over it « she would do. Bhe dressed herself perfectly, and, her Vanitl ♦£„! comforted, she presented, herself in^the br'eakfast-JSm^hJre ncr father wm already waiting for her. Her mother was ill in h«H but that was not to be thought about at present. Katbwine ffi quite enough on her hand*, without thinking about her mother Sir John was walking up and down the room in excitement "Katherine/' he said, as she entered, " have you heart this aW !f l S^l TT ° U m^ "?", Ye yourßelf for a Bh °ck; bSI haw no doubt that you can bear it," ' v * nave

to b * ■"iricl, for he hid beliered i> Katherine'. enough!* iS dtUd 1 ' UpPoße> Bftid ***** ■■* herf.ee wu white mnrde^ ! » PMI? NN ° J bUt ° ld FlaißtoD ' hia ™ clB *« b^ ti-ati^Sfa JS?' with ""* «* ttd SSwA^u en ho lef fc as » here » be w ent 'trmight to Miss £- £ m ; * nd the 8t ™S 3Bt fc Wng of all is that they say he is XSe lif^n^ 8 ' *5 WM "" • bort Monaaterlea the day lS*t w V^? the !nurder *■" emitted on the Tery next Efil l^" £?? f o ?** # A were met co™^ from theiiter'i 2.?! TLifT *I ' "^K B^ enoa * h ' na » broken out ia the woodt, ol * *^-* *"'■« - ith » Y« "^'aiVi"!,' M !!?J";? sentl r- " u •"» •■» "^etod f" pm-'SS^JTSAS*"' 11111 "* 1 * n — ~ " SiS? t! VS 7 WOfe JUSt M they had been before Bhe <"^«» them SS£ J -!fi^ e7 Were U^ der a grievoUß clond of •uspicion.orer- £™ ???• IW 06 and grief - A word from ncr ™>< d even now divert this trouble from them, leaving them happy in each other, and . the posseas.on of wealth untold. And should she have to do this f She could not do it yet-of that B he was very sure. She sat quite still for some time, hating Paul and May with all her heart. 'iTy,. a „ accußed ' " she said, " I will not speak. 1 She shuddered a httle. and her father bade her take some breakfast? And she went to the table and sat down and ate. »"»"»". end oVthi" 1111 11" 1 8 ° With yy ° U> Bhe Baid to her £ather * " l mußt «• **« said flfr 7o°hn J mUCh b6tter taßte f ° r JOU t0 Btay where you are '" But^ Katherine was not used to think much about matters of vEISCG* »t *^«. n MaJ tUr *u d the cotUge Bhe foand Brid S et a ° d Nanny at the gate watching the fire, and hearing news from the passers-by. ,Jf look . cd »mazed at seeing Paul and May cominTquickly w n 5\° ad \ 18 !? May a little wav t Q e «ate, ana hastened back towards Tobereevil, as he promiaed he would do. May passed in at the gate. "Ob, Miss May, Miss May ! " cried Bridget, " there's blood on your dress I May looked down at it, startled. "Simon Finiston has been murdered, she said, shuddering, and went on into the house Her aunt was not awake, for it was only four o'clock, and the cottage was quite still in the early sunshine. For dear life, May could not have helped being unutterably happy, in spite of the awfal sight which had lately passed before her eyes ; that Paul was well and safe was a good which must outweigh all the troubles of the earth. It was true she felt weary and shaken with the recent shocks she had sustained ; but she felt nothing inconvenient to her, not even suffering of tbe body. She knelt and poured out her thankfulness to Heaven. Then slepp and utter weariness overpowered her, and, throwing herself on her bed, she slept soundly until breakftst time. On awakening, the horror of the murder, with its attendant and gluing horror of the fire, rose luridly in her mind, but she had left all that with God before sleeping, and this morning she would think of nothing but her joy. Paul met her coming down the hall- pale, certainly, but fair and fresh-robed as a lily, and smiling out of eyes that denied any cause for gloom. Paul looked at her silently ; and the love in his heart could not refuse her a smile in answer to her own, but there was a sadness ia the smile-not of the old kind, which May now looked no more to see, but a new and reasonable sadness, which had nothing to do with fret or fear. He took her hands in hia own, and drew her into the parlor that he might talk. " What is it, Paul 1 " she asked, feeling that there was something which she did not yet know. 6 bearlme^mo^r^ 1 ** f " he "* C *» 7 ° U *»' She blanched a little, for her physical powers were somewhat low, but she said firmly : "lean, Paul." "God bless you I " he said, with a solemn passion that made her tremble, knowing there was something heavy, indeed, to be borne. May, be said, " you and I are suspected of this murder 1 " "Are we, Paul ? » She drew a long breath, broken by neither sigh nor sob. •« Well, we can bear it till the truth be found out Why are we suspected T " "Circumstances are against us— don't you perceive it? We were met coming from the place so early— and-and— there was blood upon your dress I" " I see ; but I shall explain how that got there." "My love ; don't you see your explanation will tell against ns — agaiDst me, tt least-more than anything else. Then there is that idea m the people's minds about the prophecy that a Finiston would be murdered by a kinsman of his own." They looked in each other's faces— two poor young creature*— brave in their conscious innocence, but with all the world against them. Paul drew her to hia heart, and thus they met their great woe. May quickly recovered herself. *

"Of coarse we mast take this solemnly, Paul, bat not too much in earnest. We know we did not do if, neither you nor I ; and some one else did. God will reveal all, and, meantime, we must not let ourselves be crashed." " No, darling ; we will not let ourselves be crashed." He held her hands tightly within his, and felt that thus linked together they must, indeed, stand strong. Heaven could not forsake one so innocent and trustful as the woman who was bound with him in this martyrdom. " We need not tell Auut Martha yet, Paul— unless it is unavoidable. It would kill her in an hour." " No, we need not tell her," said Paul. " Not, at least, till the inquest is over." When Miss Martha appeared, she was enlightened as to the events of the night, but was not informed of the crowning trouble that was impending. A few groans and shudders expressed her horror at tbe tale, as it was related to her ; but she was deeply affected, and sore old spots smarted badly in her heart. She did not complain of these, however, but let them wait till she could see them in her chamber. Her grief could not be such as to deaden her appreciation of the good things which must be the issue of this evil. It was horrible, indeed, that Simon should have been murdered, but an excellent thing for the country that he was dead. It was good for Paul and good for May, and the trouble could not be anything to compare with the delightful comfort of seeing Paul Finiston master of Tobereevil and great wealth, sitting there in his owu character, in possession of sound reason and perfect health, by tbe side of his promised wife. " And so the old house is burning, you say, Paul I Well, that is no harm ; yon never could have made use of it, and it is better it should fall. I have never heard of a more singular coincidence— tbe lire — and— tbe other event happening in one night. Does anyone know how the fire could have happened ?" " It is thought the heat might have caused it, or sparks falling from the f urze-fires on the mountains. The timber being so dry, a little thing would do it. God grant it may be a type of the purifica* tion of the country from the old evil 1" Mis* Martha looked at him with great approval. " The same idea has been in my own mind," she said. " One could imagine," said May, " that all the evil that has haunted the place had concentrated itself in the heart of the woods, and burnt itself to death out of the heat of its own passion. And with it ends the legend of the curse of Tobereevil.'' Miss Martha said nothing, but looked into her teapot. She had always denied that there was any meaning, however shadowy, in the story of the curse. She had just made an admission which seemed to be inconsistent with her belief, and felt a little confuted as to her own position. The body of Simon Finiston had been carried to tbe barn of a neighboring farmer. (7b be continued.)