CHAPTER IV.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XXVIII, Issue 43, 25 October 1900, Page 24

CHAPTER IV.

Two months later. After a bad relapse Thibault Vernaker is at last convalescent, and for the first time he is to-day allowed to sit up for a little. ' Where are those reviews and magazines which Doctor Wilson brought V he asked ; ' there may be something about my book in them. By the bye, it seems strange that I have heard nothing further from the publishers.' ' Well, you see, darling, they bought it outright, and therefore I suppose they think they need not consult you in any way about it,' answered Constance. 'Hrn, yes, I daresay that is to. Thankß, I will take the Athena-urn first,' and in a few minutes he was wrapped deep in the pages of that magazine. Suddenly an exclamation escaped him. ' Good God !' he cried in a voice of amazement, ' what is thia V and he eat staring at the paper in a gaze of dazed astonishment.

i Mrs. Vernaker stepped to his chair, and looking over bin shoulder the following paragraph met her eyes : ' Messrs. Waldron, Weston and Co. have announced definitely that " The Uncreated Universe," by Vernaker, will be ready for salo on Wednesday morning. The history of this book is somewhat peculiar, as it was on the eve of publication more than a year ago, but was withdrawn owing to the convermou of (he author to Catholicism. The publishers, howevor, now state that all difficulty have been smoothed over, and that the copyright has been purchased by them. Many people are still incredulous on this point, and more than one well-known personage in the world of meiuluic, fum,^ friends cf the author, have informed us that there must be some mistake, as the manuscript was destroyed a considerable Lime a^u However we await developments.' 'Am I mad V cried Vernaker, putting his hand to his brow. •Oh ! God grant that lam dreaming- ! It cannot be. They would not dare.' ' Waldron, Weeton, and Co.,' faltered Constance Vernaker ; < that was the signature on the cheque.' Her husband turned upon her almost like a stag at bay. ' Cheque 1 What cheque ?' he asked harshly. ' The £500 in payment for your novel,' she replied, frightened by hifi vehemence. ' Good God I' he almost shouted, springing from his chair. 'Do not say the money came from ihem V ' That was the name on the cheque," replied his wife, with a horrible suspicion of the truth flashing over her mind. ' And did they say it was for my novel ?' he asked, breathlessly. 1 No, the man did not mention any name, but of course I thought he came about the book you had just sent up.' replied Constance. ' Great heavens ! I see it all,' cried Vernaker, throwing himself in anguish upon the couch. ' That cur We«ton kept a copy of the book, and now Merciful Creator ! What have I not done ' I have sold the book, signed an agreement for it to be published — and I—lI — I shall be branded for all posterity as a second Judas. They will say I have sold my God for gold.' A moment later he sprang up, all his weakness forgotten, the light of a great resolve shining in his eyea. His wife had fallt n down beside the couch, weeping as if his heart would break. He raised her tenderly. 'Oh, my husband,' she cried, 'it is I who have c'onethis, [ was so eager, so delighted at the news. I lost no time in inquiry. and persuaded you to sign. Can you ever forgive me for the awful wrong I have done '' ' Nay, darling/ he said, comfortingly. 'It was not likely you would know, how could you be on your guard against a cunning fiend like Weston. But this is no time for idle repining. I will not lose a moment in seeing Weston, and if I cannot turn him from his purpose, I will instruct kotne bookseller to buy up as many of the books as he can with the money we have left. There is no time to lose, as they will be ready to-morrow. I will also write to all the newspapers for the cake of the clearance of my character, and after that I must leave the matter to God.' Mrs. Vernaker looked at her husband aghast. 1 But, my darling, it will kill you.' she said piteously. He smiled at her wearily. ' If God so wills,' he replied. ' If you must go, I will go too,' she cried. In vain he protested. A fond woman is hard to turn from her purpose ; so an hour later, after he had been properly wrapped up, found them both ensconced in a cab on their way to Caxton House pquare. It was getting late before they arrived, but all was bustle in the office. The clerks exchanged looks as Vernaker entered and sent in hid name. The commissionaire returned almost immediately. ' Mr. Weßton"s very sorry, sir. but he's too busy to scp you ' 1 But I must nee him, and will see him. cried Vernakei. all In-* anger rising as he spoke. ' Will you be good enough to tell him ' he continued, raising his voice loud enough to bo heard all ovr the office, 'that unless he tees me instantly I will horsewhip him publicly in the streets the next time I meet him." The commissionaire returned rather dubiously with his milage, while the clerks grinned with delight, and remarked to one anotht lthat they would take care to be present when the horsewhipping came off. The sergeant soon reappeared. ' It's no good, sir,' he Baid. smiling, ' the moment I gave him your message he slipped out the back way, so I don t thiuk you 11 see him to-night.' It was evident the whole office was in sympathy with Veruaker. ' Thank you , I expected as much.' he rejoined. That night, as Thibault Vernaker prepared for bed. h> knelt down, and with the whole force of his being he prayed tIU God would prevent the impending wrong to mankind.