CHAPTEB XIII.-(Continued.)

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XVI, Issue 50, 5 April 1889, Page 23

CHAPTEB XIII.-(Continued.)

" And how about Gabriel le and Mrs. Heatherstooe 7" I asked. " Can we not bring them down from the Hall at once 1 Tour poor ■ister must be distracted with terror." " She knows nothing of it," Mordannt anßwered. " She sleeps at the other side of the bouse, and has not heard or seen anything. As to my poor mother, she has expected some such event for so long a time that it has not come upon her as suprise. She is, of course, overwhelmed with grief, but would, I think prefer to be left alone to herself for the present. Her firmness and composure should be a lesson to me ; but lam constitutionally excitable, and this oataatrophe coming soon after our long period of suspense deprived me of my very reason for a time." " If we can do nothing until morning," I said, " yon have time to tell us all that has occurred." " I shall do so," he answered, rising and holding his shaking hands to the fire. " Yon know already that we have had reason for some time-for many years, in fact-to fear that a terrible retribution was hanging over my father's head for a certain action of his early life. Id this action be was associated with the man known as Corporal Rufua Smith ; so that the fact of the latter finding his way to my father, was a warning to us that the time had come, and that this sth of October— the anniversary of the misdeed— would he the day of its atonement. I told you of our fears in my letter ; and if I am not mistaken, my father also bad some conversation with you, West, upon the subject. When I saw yesterday morning that he had hunted out the old uniform which he has always retained since he wore it in the Afghan war, I was sore that the end was at hand,' and that our forebodings would be realised. "He appeared to be more composed in the afternoon than I have seen him for years, and spoke fresly of bis life in India and of the incidents of his youth. About nine o'clock be requested us to go to our rooms, and locked us in there — a precaution which he fre* queatly took when the dark fit was upon him. It was always bis endeavour, poor soul, to keep us clear of the curse which had fallen on his own unfortunate bead. Before parting from us he tenderly embraced my mother and Gabriel le, and he after followed me to my room, where he clasped my band affectionately and gave into my charge a small package addressed to yourself. 11 " To me ? " I interrupted. "To you. I shall fulfil my commission whenever I have finished my story. I conjured him to allow me to sit up with him and to sbara any danger whica might arise ; but he implored me with irresistible earnestness not to add to his troubles by thwarting bis arrangements. Seeing that I was really distressing him by ray pertinacity, I at last allowed him to close the door and turn the key on the outside. I shall alvvayß reproach myself for my want of firmness. But what can you do when jour own father lefuses your assistance of co-operation? You cannot force yourself upon him." " I am sure that you did all that you could do," my sister said. " I meant to, dear Esther ; but, God help me, it was hard to tell what was right. Ho left me, and I heard his footsteps die away down the Ion? corridor. It was then about ten o'clock, or a little after. For a time I paced up and down the room, and then carrying the lamp to the head of my bed I lay upon it without undressing, reading " St. Thomas a Kempis," and praying from my heait that the night might pass safely over us. I had at list fallen into a troubled sleep when 1 was suddenly aroused by a loud, sonorous Bound ringing in my e-rs. I sat up bewildered, but all was silent again. The lamp was burning low, and my watch showed me that it waa going on to midnight. I blundered to my feet, and was striking a match with the intention of lighting the candles, when the sharp, vehement cry broke out again so loud and bo clear that it might have been in tht* very room with me. My chamber is in the front of the house, while that of my mother and sister are at the back, so that I am the only one who commands a view of the avenue. Rushing to the window I drew the blind aside and looked out. You know that the gravel drive opens up so as to form a broad stretch immediately in front of the house. Just in the centje of this clear space there stood three men looking up at the house. The moon shone full upon them, glistening on their upturned eyeballs, and by its light I could see that they were swarthy-faced and black-haitei, of a type that I waa familiar with among the Sikhs and Afref dees. Two of them were thin, with eager, ascttic countenances, while the third was kinglike and majestic, with a noble figure and flowing beard." " Ram Singh 1" I ejaculated. " What, you know them," exclaimed Mordaunt in groat surprise. " You have met them ? ' " I know of them. They are Buddhist priests," I answerel ; "but go on." " They stood in a line," he continued, " sweeping their arms upwarJs and downwards, while thtir lips moved as if repeating some prtiver or incautation. Suddenly they ceased to gesticulate, and broke out for the third time into the wild, weird, piercing cry which had roused me from my slumber. Never shall I forget that shrill) , dreadtul summons, swelling and reverberating through the silent night with an intensity of Bound which is still ringing in my earn. As It died slowly away there was a rasping and creaking as of key* and bolts, followed by the clang of an opening door and the clatter of hurrying feet. From my window I saw my father and Corpoiai Rufus Smith rush frantically out of the house, batless and unkempt, like men who are obeying a sudden and overpowering impulse. The three strangers laid no bands upon them, but the whole five swept

•wif tly down the avenue and vanished among the trees. lam positive that no force or constraint of any visible kind, and yet I am as sure that my poor father and his companion were helpless prisoners as if I had seen them dragged away in manacles. " All this took little time in the acting. From tbe first summons which disturbed my sleep to the last shadowy glimpse which I had of them between the tree trunks could hardly have occupied more than five minutes of actual time. S > sudden was it, and so strange, that when the drama was over and they were gone I could have believed that it was all some terrible nightmare, some delusion, had I not felt the impression was too real, too vivid, to be imputed to fancy. I threw my whole weight against my bedroon door in the hope of forcing the lock. It stood firm for a while, but I flung myself upon it again aod again until somethiog snapped and I found myself in the passage. My first thought was for my mother. I rushed to her room aad turned the key in hot door. The moment that I did so she stepped out into the corridor in her dressing-gown, and held up a warning finger. "No noise," shesaid, ".Gabrielle is asleep. They have been called away." " They have," I answered. " God's will be done I " she cried. " Your poor father will be happier in the nest world than he has ever bean in this. Thank heaven that Gabrielle is asleep. I gave her chloral in her cocoa." 41 What am Ito do?" I said distractedly. "Where have they gone ? How can I help him 1 We cannot let him go from us like this, or leave these men to do what they will with him I Shall I ride into Wigtown and arouse the police?" '•Anything lather than that," my mother said earnestly. "He has begged me again and again to avoid it. My son, we shall never set eyes on your father again. You may marvel at my dry eyes ; but if you knew as I know the peace which death would bring him, you could not find it in your heart to mourn for him. All pursuit ia, I feel, vain ; and yet some pursuit there must be. Let it be ab private as possible. We cannot serve him better than by consulting his wishes" '* But every minute ia precious." I cried. " Even now he may be calling upon us to rescue him from tbe clutches of these dark-skinned fiends." The thought so maddened me that I rushed out of the house and down to the high-road, but once there I had no indication in which direction to turn. The whole wide moor lay before me without a lign of movement upon its broad expanse. I listened, but not a sound broke the perfect stillness of the night. It was then, my dear friends, as I stood, not knowing in which direction to turn, that the horror and responsibility broke full upon me. I felt that I was combating againat forces of which I knew nothing. All was strange, and dark, and terrible. The thought of jou, and of the help which I might look for from your advice and assistance, was a beacon of hope to me. At Branksome, at least, I should receive sympathy, and, above all, directions as to what I should do ; for my mind is in such a whirl that I cannot trust to my own judgment. My mother was content to be alone, my Bister asleep, and no prospect of being able to do anything until daybreak. Under those circumstances wtnt more natural than that I should fly to you as fast as my feet would carry me 1 You have a clear head, Jack ; speak out, man, and tell me what 1 Bhould do. Esther, what should I do ?" He turned from one to tbe other of us with outstretched hands and eager, questioning eyes. " You can do nothing while tbe darkness lasts," I answered. " We must report the matter to the Wigtown police ; but we need not send our message to them until we are actually starting upon the search, so as to comply with the law and yet have a private investigation, as your mother wishes. John Fullerton over the hills has a lurcher dog which is as good as a bloodhound. If we set him on the General's trail he will mn him down if he had to follow him to John o' Groat 9." "It is terrible to wait calmly here while he may need our assistance." " I fear our assistance could not under any circumstances do him any good. There are forces at work here which are beyond human intervention. Besides, there is no alternative. vVe have, apparently, no possible clue a 9 to the direction which they have taken, and for us to winder aimlessly ever tbe mor in the darkness would be to waste the strength which may be more profitably used in the morning. It will be daylight by five o'clock. In an hour or so we can walk over tbe hill together and get Fullarton's dog." "Another hour ! " Mordaunt groaned, " every minute seems an age." " Lie down on the sofa aga n aud rest yourself," said I, "you cannot serve your father better than by laying up all the ttrtngth you can, for we may have a weary trudge before us But you mentioned a packet which the Genenl had intended for ma." "It id here," he answered, drawing a small flat parcel from bis pocket and handing it to me, "you will find, no doubt, that it will explain all which has been so mysterious." The packet was sealed ai either end with black wax, bearing the impress of the flying griffin, which I knew to be the General's crest, It was further secured by a band of broad tape, which I cut with my pocket knife. Across the outside was written, in bold handwriting, " J. Kotbergill West, Esq.," and underneath, " to be handed to tbat gentleman in the event of the disappearance or decpase of Majorueneral J. B. Heatherstone, V.C., C.8., late of the lodian Army." So at last I was to know the dark secret which had cast a shadow over our lives. Here in my hands I held the solution of it. With eager fingers I broke the seals and undid the wrapper. A note and a small bundle of discoloured piper lay within. I drew the lamp over to me and opened the former. It was dated from the preceeding afternoon, and ran in this w«y :— " My dear West, — I should have satisfied your very natural curiosity on the subject which we have had occasion to talk of more than once, but I refrained for your own sake. I knew by sad experience how unsettling and how unnerving it is to be for ever waitiDg for a c •ta'.trophe which you are coovinced must befall, and which you can neither avert uor accelerate. Though it affects me specially,

aa being the person most concerned, I am still conscious that the natural sympathy whici I have observe 1 ia you, aad your regard for Gabriel's fatber, would both combine to render you unhappy if you knew the be'pleesness and yet the vagueness of the fate that threaten! me. I feared to disturb your mind and I was therefore silent, though at some cost to myaelf, for my isolation baa been not the least of the troubles which have weighed me down. Many signs, however, and chief among them the presence of the Buddhists upon the coast ai described by you this morning, have convinced me that the weary waiting is at laßt over and that the hour of retribution is at hand. Why I bhoulJ have been allowed t3 live nearly forty years after my offence is more than I caa understand, but it is possible that those wbo had command over my fate know that such a life is the greatest of all penalties to me. Never for a moment, night or day, bare they suffered me to forget that they have marked me down aa their viotim. Their accursed astral bell has been ringing my knell for two score years, reminding me ever that there is no spot upon earth where I can hope to be in safety. On, the peace, the blessed peace of dissolution ! Come what may on the other side of the tomb, I shall at least be quit of that thrice terrible sound . " There is no need for me to enter into the wretched business again or to detail at any length the events of the fifth of October, 1841, and the various circumstances which led up to the death of Ghoolab Shah, the arch adept. I have torn a sheet of leaves from my old journal in which you wilt find a bald account of the matter, and an independent narrative was furnished by Sir Edward Elliot, of the Artillery, to the Star of India some years ago — in which, however, the names were suppressed. 1 have reason to believe that many people, even among those who knew India well, thought that Sir Edward was romancing, and that he had evolved his incidents from his imagination. The few faded leaves which I send you will show you that this is not the case, and that our men of science must recognise powers and laws which can and have been used by man, but which are unknown to European civilisation. " I do not wish to whine or to whimper ; but I cannot help feeling that I have had bard measure dealt me in this world. I would not, God knows, take the life of aoy man, far less an aged one, in cold blood. My temper and nature, however, were always fiery and headstrong, and in action when my blood is up I have no knowlege of what lam about. Neither the corpora! nor I would have laid a finger on Ghoolab Shah bad we not seen that the tribesmen were rallying behind him. Well, well ; it is an old story now, and there is no profit in discussing it. May no other poor fellow have the same evil misfortune 1 " I have written a short supplement to the statements contained in my journal for your information and for that of any one else who may chance to be interested in the matter. And now, adieu ! Be a good husband to Gabrielle ; and if your sister be brave enousjh to marry into such a devil-ridden family as ours, by all means let her do so. I have left enough to keep my poor wife in comfort. Whon she rejoins me I should wish it to be equally divided between the children. If you hear that i am gone, do not pity, but congratulate, — Your unfortunate friend, John Berthieb Heathkbstone. I threw aside the letter and picked up the roll of blue foolscip which contained the solution of the myatery. It was all ragged and frayed at the inner edge with traces of gum and thread Btill adhering to it. to show that it has been torn out of a strongly-bound volume. The ink with which it had been written had faded somewhat; but across the head of tbe first page was inscribed in bold, clear characters. evidently of later date than the reat, " Journal of Lieutenant J. B. Heitherstoue, in the Thull Valley, during the autumn of 1841,"' and then underneath, " This extract contains some accouut of the first week of October ot that year, including the skirmish of the Tarada ravine and the death of tbe man Goolab Shah." I have tha narrative lying before me now, aad I copy it verbatim. If it contains souie matter which has no direct bearing upon the question at ißsue, I can only say that I thought it better to publish what is irrevelant that by cutting and clipping to lay the whole statement open to the charge of havmpr been tampered with. (To be continued.)

Among recent building improvements in Jerusalem is tha " German House " for German Catholic pilgrims. From the top the German and Papal flags float side by tide. The Rev. Hugh B. Chapman, Anglican Vicar of St. Luke's, Camberwell, EnglaaJ, whose friendship for Father Damien and charity to the poor lepers of Molokai, the Pilot has often already noted, lately sent to Father Damien 5000d015., "subscribed," as he says in the letter which goes with it, "by many who are grateful to God for the example of your heroic self-devotion." Mr. Chapman continues: — "Personally I have done nothing in the matter except receive tbe funds, and require no thanks whatever. The honour lies with those who are thus allowed to testify to you their respectful love . . . I humbly ask a place in your prayers, tbat I may imbibe some of your spirit of sacrifi c, of which up till now I know so little. I should mach like to have come to you myself, and to have offered my unworthy services to your flock ; but, apparently, it is tbe will of God that I should remain at my post among His poor in this plase. Many of them are almost starving; and, though 1 am myself so poor that I cannot help them much, it is not in my heart to leave them. I have, also made a promise that, as long as my health holds out, I will give them my life without reserve. Otherwise I should have come to you and should have tended you until you went home." Mr. Chapman hopes to send lOOOdols. or 1500dolp. more to Molokai, at a later day : and concludes his letter with these appreciative words which must be strangely comforting to the heart of the leper priest :— " Once more may the Saviour console you in your martyrdom by the thought that, in being thus 'lifted up,' you have drawn many to His Cross. lam well aware that I do not belong to your special branch of the Catholic Church ; but, though I be from your point of view outside the fold, nothing can prevent my kneeling at your feet. I respectfully salu'e you as my superior because you aic eminently liis servant."