LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume IX, Issue 1253, 13 March 1878, Page 3

LITERATURE.

A MYSTERIOUS VISITOR. By the Author of “East Lynne,” Continued. Onco more Mrs Ordie sped to the curate’s She knocked at the door, and stood back to look up at the house. * They have put him into their spare bed,’ she soliloquised ; * Mrs Beecher has kept it up this fortnight past, expecti g their invalid from India. My goodness ! I never thought of it ! they have no doubt come together, in the same ship. George may have gone to Calcutta; and, finding James Beecher was coining, must have got leave, all in a hurry, and accompanied him.’ Picking up some bits of gravel, she threw them at Mrs Heecher’s bedroom window. This brought forth the curate in his nightcap, peeping through the curtains. ‘ltisl, Mr Beecher. Have you got Captain Ordie here ?’ ‘Make haste, Anne,’ cried the curate, turning his head round to speak to his wife ‘lt is Mrs Ordie. Perhaps the child is in a fit.’ ‘My husband,’ repeated Mrs Ordie. ‘He is here, is he not ?’ ‘Yes; directly,’answered the curate, im perfectly understanding, but opening the casement about an inch to speak. ‘ Is she really worse, Louisa ?’ exclaimed Mrs Beecher, who now appeared at the window, ‘ I will soon be with you.’ The curate, believing the matter to he settled, drew in his nightcap. But Mrs Ordie’s voice was again heard. ‘Mr Beecher ! I want you. ’ ‘Dress yourself, my dear,’ cried Mrs Beecher to him, in a Hurry. ‘I dare say they want you to go for Mr Percival. If the baby is really worse, and it is not Louisa’s fancy, I shall never more boast of knowing children. She is calling again. ’ M.r Beecher re-opened the casement. ‘ I am putting on my clothes, Mrs Ordie. I am coming.’ * But you need not do that. Has your brother arrived ?' ‘ Who ?’ ‘Your brother : James Beecher.’ ‘No. Not yet.’ ‘ Some ship is in : it has brought my husband. Toll him lam here.’ ‘ We’ll be down in a minute,’ called out Mrs Beecher, and making despciate haste. ‘ Anne, Captain Ordic's come.’ ‘Captain (belie !’ exclaimed Mrs Beecher. ‘ Vlra Cr.lio suys so.’ ‘Then we shall have James here tomor civ. How very unexpected Captain Ordic’s arrival must have been to his wife? And to find his child iU !’ Louisa Ordie waited. Mrs Beecher came clown first, in a large shawl, her bonnet tied over her nightcap. They began to speak at cross purposes. ‘ls he coming? Have you told him?’ impatiently asked Mrs Grebe. ‘My dear, yes. >hxfc he had gone upstairs in slippers, and his shoes wore in the back kitchen. Captain Ordie’a an ival must have taken you by surprise. s ' ‘ I never was so much surprised in my life,’ answered Mrs Ordie. standing still, and not offering to stir. ‘ I heard his footstep first, and knew it, even in the distance. lam so glad! We must have come with James Beecher.’ ‘Ay, we shall have James here to-morrow. But, my dear, let ua upt lo,ie time, la the child vsr/ iU ?’

‘She is not worse; there is no hurry,’ answered Mrs Ordie, planting her back against a tree, as deliberately as if she meant to make it her station for the night, and gazing up at the casement which she knew belonged to their spare bedroom. Mrs Beecher looked at her in surprise. ‘ ’ IV ill he be long?’ she resumed. ‘ There’s no lif.ht ’ ‘He will bo here directly,’ said Mrs Beecher, *he is finding his shoes. I suppose Kitty put them in some < ut-of-the-way place, ready for cleaning in the morning.’ Another pause, and the curate appeared. ‘ Oh, Mr Beecher, you need not have got up,’was Mrs Ordie’s greeting. ‘I am sorry to give you all this trouble.’ ‘ltis no trouble. Do you want me to go for Mr Percival ?’ ‘ You are very kind, but we shall not require the doctor to-night; at least I hope not. I have been watching her myself; I had her brought down to my own room. Kurse behaved shamefully over it, and I gave her warning ’ ‘Pray let us go on and see how she is,’ said Mrs Beecher, never supposing but that they had been called up by the state of the child. ‘ When be comes. You say he will not be long. Had he undressed?’ ‘ Had who undressed ?’ ‘ My husband.’ Mrs Bee ;her stared at her in amazement. ‘ I do not understand you, Louisa. For whom are we waiting here ?’ ‘ For my husband, of course. You say he is finding his shoes.’ Both Mr and Mrs Beecher thought her child’s illness was turning h c r crazy. They looked at her, and at one another. *My dear, you are mystifying us, spoke the wife, drawing her shawl tighter round her shoulders ‘ls your husband coming out; here ; into the garden ? Are we to wait here for him ?’ ‘ Why, you know he is coming out, and of course I shall wait for him. Only think, he wore his regimentals!’ ‘ His regimentals!’ * Yes. Just as if he were on duty.’ ‘ Where is Captain Ordie V’ interposed the curate. ‘Well, that’s a sensible question, from you,’ laughed Mrs Ordie. ' I suppose he is ia your spare bedroom, though I see no light, i)r else hunting for his shoes in your kitchen.’ ‘Child,’ said Mrs Beecher, taking hold of her tenderly, ‘ you are not well. I told yon to day what it would be, if you excited yourself. Let us take you home.’ ‘ I will not go without my husband. There. And what makes him so long ? I shall call to him. Way, you have locked the door! ’ she exclaimed. *Y ou have locked him ia.’ ‘ Locked who in, child ? ’ said Mrs Beecher, 4 There’s nobody in the house but Kitty.’ ‘My husband ia there. Did he not come to you ?’ ‘l> o, certainly not. We have not seen him.’ *Mr Beecher,’ she impatiently uttered, ‘ I asked you, at first, whether my husband had come here, and you said yes,’ *My dear young lady, < must have misunderstood you. All I heard, with reference to Captain Ord'e, was, that he had come: I supposed to your house. He has certainly not been to ours.’ ‘ Then w r hat were you talking of ? ’ she reproachfully asked of Mrs Beecher. ‘ltw r as shameful to deceive me so! Y r ou said he had gone upstairs in slippers, and was finding his shoes. Vou know you did,' ‘My dear child, I was speaking of Mr Beec>er. I did nut know you thought your husband was here. Why did you think so ?’ ‘lf he is not here, where is he ? ’ demanded Mrs Crdio. ‘ Y r ou need not look at me as though you thought I was out of my senses. Do yon mean to say you have not seen Captain Ordie ? ’ ‘We have not, indeed. We went t) bed at ten, an-I heard nothing, until you threw the gravel at tee window.’ * Where can lie be ? What can he have done with hfinself ? ’ ‘Did he leave you to come to us ? When did he a'rive ?’ ‘lt was at twenty-five minutes after eleven. I was sitting by bady, reading th- “ Vicar of Wakefield ” All at once I heard footsteps from the upper gate, and I knew they were my husband’s. I loiked out, and saw him, and called to him ; he did not seem to hear me, but went in to the portico. I ran down to let him in, and to my surprise he was not there, and I thought he must have come on to you. ‘Then you have not yet spoken with him?’ exclaimed Mr Beecher.

‘ Not yet.’ ‘ Arc you sure it was Captain Ordie? "Who opened the gate to him ? ’ ‘No one. The gate is locked. There is the strange part of the business.’ ‘My dear Mrs < Toie I I fear it must be all a mistake. Captain Ordie would not arrive here on foot, even if he landed unexpectedly ; and he could not have got through a locked gate. Perhaps you were asleep.’ ‘Nonsense,’ peevishly replied Mrs Ordie ; ‘ I was as wide awake as I am now. I had come to that part where the fine ladies from town had gone in to neigbor FJamborough’s and caught them all at hun'-the-slipper, Olivia in the middle, bawling for fair play. The ballad “Edwin and Angelina” came in a few pages before, and that I skipped. I assure you I was perfectly awake ’ ‘ I do not think it possible to have been anything but ,a delusion,’ persisted Mr Beecher. ‘ How a delusion ?' angrdy asked the young lady; 'I do not know what ym moan. If my lira ing could play me false, my sight could not I heard my husband, and saw him, and spoke to him He was in his regimentals : were they a delusion ? ’ ‘ This is very strange,’ said Mn Beecher 1 ‘He would not be likely to travel in his regimentals. ’ ‘lt is more than strange,’ was Louisa Ordie’s answer, as she looked dreamily about. ‘Heis in the grounds, somewhere, ! and why he does not come forward, 1 don’t know. ’ L The mystery was not cleared up that night. The next day Mrs Ordie sent for her father, to impart to him the strange circum- ‘ stance. He adopted his curate’s view of 5 the affair ; and, indeed, the universal view. * Mrs Ordie was much annoyed at their dsbelief ; and she actually, in spite of her 1 friends, had Captain Ordie advertised for, in r the local papers : he was in England, she * said, and it would be proved so. 3 When letters next arrived from India, > there was one from Captain Ordie, which r gave proof positive that he was not, and had r not been in Europe. Mrs Ordie was perplexed. The weeks went on, and the time fixed for the departure of Mrs Ordie and h r r child drew near. But meanwhile the disastrous nows had arrived of the outbreak in India of that dreadful mutiny, and it was deemed advisable to postpone it. She was sitting one day in a gloomy b mood. lie had not heard from her husband for some time (his last letter was dated April) ; and now. as she found, another mail was in, and had brought no news from him. The rising at Delhi, where Captain . Ordie was quartered, was known to her, but i not, as yet. the detadsof its more disastrous ■> features. S“>edid not fear his having fallen; had anything happened to him, Mr Main, or » one of her sisters, would have written. They I were all at Delhi. b As she thus sat, Mrs Beecher came in» looking very pale and sad. Dr and Mrs ’ Ling had gone oil in their pony carriage t a the county town, to pick up news. They * were extremely uneasy. L * Another mail has been in these two days! 3 she exclaimed to Mrs Beecher. ‘News , travels slower to Eaton than anywhere. Have you heard from James Beecher? You don’t look well. ’ ’ * James is come,’ replied the curate’s wife. 3 *He came overland.’ ‘ And you have been worrying yourselves that he is dead! ’ retorted Louisa. ‘ How 5 are things goiag on, over there ? ’ s To be continued.)