CHAPTER XIII.—(Continued.)

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XVII, Issue 30, 15 November 1889, Page 25

CHAPTER Xlll.— (Continued.)

" Never had I dared to exchange with my idol even the lew casual words rendered nutteib of course by our relative situations', without marking, at the bame time, by my manner, ihe distance due from one in a dependent station, towards a superior person. But whatever might have been my cousin Harry's feelings fot Mary Bryan, it was quite evident to me that the young girl herself rtgarded him, not only witn but with aver&ion. She was not ignorant of hia wild habits — (perhaps they might deserve a worse name) ; — indeed, he made no gieat secret ot them, even to her ears. And she would weep at what 1 could perceive was her setibe of his rudeness. And I have seen her ahiink und shudder, when the witnessed the violent altercations which frequently took place between him and his father. For both, unfoitunately. had veiy violent tempers ; and neltner was good Lhristian enough to curb the impulse of his passions. Often when, after leading the disputants into another room, and there partially succeeding in reconciling them to each other, I returned into her presence, I have found hci i:j utter misery, writhing under the effects of present alarm, and anticipation of future wietchednei-s, at the piospect of becoming the wife of one so totally different from her own disposiuons tastes, aud sentiments. Annie, I will not disguise from you— why Bhould I do so? — that it was not always by mere observation ot her conduct aud manner, that I came to these conclusions : she has distinctly avowed to me, on those occasions, her thoughts and her feelinge. And when I endeavoured to give her a more cheerful view of things, and to hold up to her what 1 believed to be a blight aide of my cousin's character; — when I painted it as distinguished tor generosity, and noble feeling, notwithstanding all its lapses, — then, more than once she timidly appioached me, and. placing her hand on mine, said, in a tone of voice and with a look that made me tremble with delight and confusion, — 'How can you advocate the cause of a man ao unlike yourself?' Annie, my child, from time to time, such indications of a return of lovo for the love I bore to her heightened the battle between my sense of duty and the impulse ot my weak heart, to something beyond my powers of description 1

" On the very last occasion upon which my cousin and his father contended togethei — upon that dieidful day, w'hu the to i< n his heattd passion, although tempted by his parents hand, cuu.iged that parent beyond extenuation ; — when ho was obliged to fly fioni

the house to avoid the shedding of his blood, by his father; upon that day I found Mary Bryan lying insensible on the carpet. She had been a witness of the tenible scene I have alluded to ; had fainted ; had been overlooked by us all, and now lay before me, not yet lecovered from her swoon. Without the necessary reflection on what I was about to do, I impulsively caught her up ia my arms. While my heart throbbed, and my limbs trembled wil.h apprehension, I used every means at hand to restore her to her Benses.

" She opened her beautiful eyea ; she glanced round in affright, her look met mice, then instantly changed into an expression of snch entire confidence, such melting appeal, that, together with the former confuaed state of my feelings, it deprived me of all presence of mind, all self-control.

" ' My adored 1' I cried, flinging myself at her feet, as she lay on a sofa — ' my life's queen Imy love Imy love !' Then I covered my face with my hands, while the soba choked me. I heard her start, and feebly raise herself, aa she whispered—' Connor Kennedy, what have you said to me ? — let me hear you distinctly ?'

" ' Forget my words, Miss Bryan 1' I answered, ' my presumptous my criminal words. Thrust them from your mind as if you had never heard them 1'

■' But Mary spoke again,— not as if she would forget ; and — I replied ; and — but why lengthen out the story of our fate I—Annie,1 — Annie, in thai moment of deep affliction — in that moment of utter terror of the character and temper of my cousin, and of horror at the prospect of being united to him, Mary Bryan told me that she loved me ! That she had loved me as long and aa well as 1 had loved her, and that no force on earth should ever compel her to become the wife of Harry Stokesbury. That, to avoid him, she would resign wealth, station, independence — everything but honour ; — that she would willingly abandon the fortune be was to receive with her hand. That she had rather — a thousand times rather — live with me in. poverty, than with him, or with any man like him, upon the world's throne. Nay, that she would cheerfully work for her daily bread, for me and for herseil. sooner than encounter the detested lot of a life ut hia side.

" \unie, my child, here was a trial for met The heart-tearing contest in my bosom I feel again this very hour. Here was a happiness I had never dreamt of, offered to my hand 1 here was a bliss, beyond all imagination, placed within my reach. How did I act? To my Maker, who heara me, I declare that I did not, as might be Bupposed, Bay to Mary that I accepted her love 1 1 tried all in my power to make her believe that the unwilling words which had so lately escaped my lips were words of foily and of maduess, and contained no applicable meaning. I could not, indeed, force myself to assert tbat I loved her not ; conscience itself was not able to make me belie my affections. But, with miserable tears, I sought to point out to her how treacherous would be my conduct, did I dare to avow my passion ; I insisted upon the gratitude which I owed to my cousin ; I described how base would be my return for all bis bounties, were I to rob him of the treasure he had so long regarded as hia own. And, when she insisted that Harry Stokesbury loved only her wealtb, I endeavoured — feebly perhaps, because my conviction, I should rather call it my perveited impression, went the contrary way — but I did endeavour to convince her that he really loved her for herse.f, and that she would be happy as hi^ wile. In short, I left her presence on that occasion without renewing any declaration of the feelings that preyed on me — that lacerated the heart to which I pressed them for concealment, even as the cloaked animal fed upon the vitals of the Lacedemonian boy.

"Nor did I upon the morrow, seek occasion to ensure her love. Nor upon the next day, nor upon the next. For some time Mary anil met as atran^ery, — alas I moie s-trangely and cmbarraasedly than strangers could meet. But, at last, I perctivei that the beautiful idol of my adoration bet^an to dioop ; that her cheek was fading ; her eye losing its luetie ; and tdat her whole air and mannei weie weighed down. Then, Oh ! how often did I detect mjself in the impulse, almost iv the act, ot casting myself before her, and proclaiming, with ecatacy, the love which I bore her! But still, sill, I cout I hold myselt back by the withering recollection thit, ia so doiug, I should stamp and seal to all eternity my own character, as an injjrato and a traitor. Oh 1 that this etern sense of duty had never quitted me ! Oh ! that it had ever, ever stood erect at my aide, a mail-clid aud frowning Ecn;inel, watching over my moments of human weakne&s ? Above all things, Oh, that my insidious thought ot my cousin's indifference to Mary had never taken pussession — tempting, fiendish possession, of my breast — my harrassed and my frail heart 1 My child, let my fate, I say it again, ba your warning.

" Aunie, I fell at last. She heard from me renewed expressions of my love for her ; and, with my arms around her, we knelt and vowed, in the face ot Heaven, a mutual vow. Tnen, for a short time, everything was forgot toa by mj, In the intoxicating consciousness of interchanged affection between Mary Bryan and me, all possible consequences, all possible remorse, vanished from my view. But even the drunkard, in the midat of his orgies, will nomotimes feel an icy and sickening conviction of ttie crime, aa well as the holiownesa of his self-forgetting and unnatural joy?. Aud I, that clay, I was a most miserable wretch : I started away from my paradise of enjoyment to seek the deepest solitude, like the ambitious, fallen angel, hur!c 1 at once from heaven into hell. How distinctly do I remember the place into which, after escaping from the house, I plunged myself. It was a thick, though small clump of trees, surrounded by a pahug in the paddock ; into it I rushed ; and there, scratched and stung by the tnoras aud the nettles, its sole obscure brushwood, I lay insensible to bodily discomfort. The black sin of ingratitude, the certain piesence of it, rose up and wound aiounJme, like the coils ot a hideous seipcnt ! I had beiraye imy benefactor ; the benefaotor of my earhebt years 1 The man, the relation, the fiiend who had saved me from absolute mit>eiy ! I'iiu mau who had giveu me eduoatiou, or, at leas', the opportunities for acquiring it ! — woo ha 1 ttiktu my mind out of that quagmiie atato of inferiority in which it might have been self-neglected, or else uauipled down. J

—who along with all that, had afforded me abundant means of superfluously luxurious enjoyment ; — and who, far above all else, bad I W aa sure of it I— confined upon me bis heart's affection. Oh 1 Annie, my child, my child ? I could do nothing but hide my face, even, as I may say, from myself, and cry— cry bitter tears. " Child 1 tb.9re is no r.al misfortune, but the conscience that accuses of crime I — A man may be plunged to the chin in apparent wietchednefs 1 Poverty, sickness, long and racking pains may assail him : worse than this, even worldly neglect— even the avoiding of yon by one dear to you. who imagines he has a eauss of anger, or of superiority over you ;— all this is nothing, nothing compared with one pang of an unquiet conscience 1 f "I still lay prone in my solitude, when I heard voices around me calling out my name. I rose and replied. A messenger sought me from my cousin, Harry Stokesbury. I stool before that man weighed down with a sense of shame and degradation. With almost a felon's trepidation, and, 1 supp >se, with almost a felon's look, I received at bis hands a letter from his employer. " Harry had now be >n absent from his home more than three months. During that time his own servent, the individual who at" present confronted me, had been a confidential agent between us. We had, therefore, kept up a constant correspondence. His demands for money were incessant, yet I found me ins to suDp'y them. His father bad bestowed considerable sums on me, for the purpose of proving, as he gave me to understand, that his refasal of the constant dtm and 8 of his son did not anse from a parsimonious disposition, but rather becau-e he would n )t encouiage Hirry's upendthrift habits. Every shilling thus rec j ive 1 by me was transmitted through hia favourite servtnt to ray c >u>>m. When such sources failed, I boirowid for him wherever I could obtain credit : I even rt quested, and took loans from the gentle Mary, who never refused my applications, because I imagined I was only anticipa'iug a resource which would ultimately become my cousin's undisputed right. " The note which this confi lential messenger now put into my hands contained only a f w woid->, merely mtimtting that Harry was upon the pjint of setting off for a very distant residence ; that urgent necessity compelled his immedUtcj depaiture ; and that ihe bearer w>uld verbally convey to can a request which he required rue j to fulfil, if I cand fur him or loved him. " I dem indei of ihe man th ■ niture of the service I was to perform ; and learned, in tie first plac, that a sam of m/mey, of which the amount surprised m', was nece-Ht-ry. But how ah ill I express to you the t ffjet pro iuced on me tiy t ie secon i porti m of the courier's intelligence 1 In the strictest cjnfi l-^nee, on tbe part of Harry Stokeabur. , [ was mf jnn 'd th U rV nid njen recen' ly married ; an. 1 thf name of his brid > was sup ilu-d to me. For some time bef >re, I had been aware that Hairy h *d occ.isi nallv visite I the \o ing p :r-on in qufH ion ; to my mind thoie was, theref "r^, probability in ihe strv nts stati ment. Probability to my mini I say, Annie ; but, mark me mill, — to my wenk and credulous h art, there was, what there ought notito have been, — certainty ? —Yes, my child. And even when my reason proposed a clo^e and cautious investigation of the subject, that deceitfid I't'f.rt, p-mting with selfish <xultation, turned me abide fiom n.\ purpose. (h, child 1 I war ted to be dectived 1 that was the nal tiuth. I waned to believe myself made free, by Harry Stoket,bury"s own rer unciation of her, totspouse Mary Bryan. The loosest < vidence of such an act, theieiore, satis-fled me. And whtn thus nlieved fiom the toituies of cor science, which, but a few mnnifnts before, h, d br en faster cd up< n me like knawmg reptiles, can jou not imhgiLe the wild tuibulance of joy which I at length ex pern need. " '1 he sum of money rrqu>r<d cf me, c nsiderable as it was, I soon made up : with it in his p< sf-esMor, the man wtnt away. And ruxt day I b(ca ■ c, m secret Mary Biyan's husband. '• for more than nine months af leiw.iids I did not hf ar of or from my cousin. He had l.ot inimated to me t\ c place of his intended new residence, and I could n< t, theref oie expect that a 'otter fiom me would dne> t ly reach hitn. I did frcqu' n'ly write to tl c not rtmote retreat he lad chosen, when lirst expelled from horn by his father's violence, but no answer from him ever cirne to my hand. " Two mon hs after my marriage with his ward, oil \lr. Slokepburv died ; died, too, lgnor.mt of that circumstance, alt hnugh his last will proved that he had wished i f . In vain did I a-.Mil, with entieiiies and pra>erd, Ins death hed, in order to prevail upon him tn forgive his erniif? son, aid call him home to receive a last bl sfaing. " Wary and I lived on together, under the roof which had now become Hany Btokesbur> V, the two happiest of Gods crea vie«. I loDg d for the preM nee of m\ gtneious cousin to witness, and I w .9 Bure, to enjoy, our bh'-s. He came no* ; and still I had no tidings of him, directly 01 indirectly. My wife made me Hie fith^r of a glonousboy. Un b'clnrMll t( nuiture lit baby, it wis given in charge to a young man k d w< mat , ioidmg ii tbe neighbonihood. She vv as yet cor tiLed to her bed, si 'Wly roKaining her str^nijth : the infant's rur-e su Idenly burst, 111 di-naotion, int) her chamber, and told the mother that h< r first-born clu'd had bi^en torn away fiom her arms ; and that, wii h eui'-es and wit h threats of destruction to«vaicK it on his lips. He' i\ Stoki sbury uad bi en the ravisher "This fearful and abrupt antounoement threw mv poor Mary into a dangeri vi fevei. My feirs aud agonies for her w?r<> inteiw ■. So, too, were my misgivings, on another account. Then first did I begin to doubt my formei belief that Hatry was indifferent to Mary Bryan: then did I trembl > at the thought that the last mc-sign f : had received from him might have been a fabrication ! " 1 was not long left in uncertainty. The tenitied young nurse had made her appearance towaidsnightfall. That same night Ihcnri tbe house noisely broken into. My wife had fallen into a fitful slumber. I was sitting at her bed-side. The door wa9 kicked ope n ; Harry S'okeshury, with all the raye of a maniac in his look and manner, dashed into the room. Suddenly feeling certain of the supposed grounds for his coming violence, in vain did I start up to offer him an explanation ; in vain did I implore him to listen to

me, but for an instant. He beat me down with his powerful hand ; with his f >ot be crushed me and trampled upon tne, till I lay almost insensible. Loud and long shrieks from ray wife partly recalled my fl ittering mind. Gastly and bleeding as I was, I staggered up and cast myself upon tho bed. In an instant "ha was deal iti my acm«. " Consciousness now quite forsook me; and indeed, ai I have b">en informed, did not, during a loug, Ion.? pinol, reTi -i* tn \ la fact, my child, do not let me startle you by tbe pvowal — for miny blank and dreary years I was a melancholy mviman " But the listener did start and shudder, too. Her guardian continued : '• When, after the long night of forgetfulne3s, reason's ble^ed rays again dawned upon me, I learned that Hirry Stok'sbary ha 1 been prosecuted and convicted for the commission of tne aota I have described to you. Oh ! had I been, at that time, a conscious creature, never should he have been questioned on the matter I—Sjin^r1 — Sjin^r would I have seen myalorel wife die again — sooner, sooner should my own heart's Wool have flowed than th \t II irry S ok"9b'iry should have stood before the world as a culprit! I W)uld h-ive acknowledged the justice of his vengeance I woull hive ca*t mv wretched life, p th jusand times, were it p issible, bjrw:i i nira a i 1 p nltc disgrace 1 " Y"s. An 1 I would have given up to him his righ 1 '— hi* inheritarce : I would have r'Tgued to im even my Miry's dower. I would have enleivoured in any wiy to prove to him that I wa^ not quite the ungrateful wrench that he f h ma;ht me to be. An 1 then 1 would hay« hidden mv ill— t me 1 he* I from t'en worl I, and lived — it that were pr ictieible, upon my recollecti »ng, Bit I learaed that my cousin had b:en onvicted as a fdoi.oi mv aj3)unr, and banished from his country — the i, that he hal fmi I a graze under the ioarinj sea. A-id I vjgarled myself, from first t> last, as hia ] destroyer I "I' was only very lately tnat I discovered the fatal error, to which I must immediately attribute mv mi-iery. You kni» Kvraa Donnelly, Annie l A short tim ; ago I employe 1 him as a serv mt in this house. He had b"en the bearer of my c msin's last note to me. Me it was who hail framed that d im nug m j s-ia je, from fcltrry Stokesbury, wnich informed mi that he was mar ied. S im a months since, j Kyran appeared befor- m>, very penitent. He acknowle iged hia former crrae, and serm >d to m^ ho truly contrite, as the unintenti mal author of my misfortunes, that I 'ook h.m into ray s:rvice — particularly as I understood that he was m great distress. And most pirticularly bcciuse, ti<it*virhstand ing any former wrong against myself, I k-H'sv htm to to have b>en in eaily d lys ihe favourei servant of the llldated Harry Ht)ke bnrv. (To be continued")