CHAPTER III.

Hawke's Bay Weekly Times, Volume 1, Issue 32, 5 August 1867, Page 191

CHAPTER 111.

-"DISINHERITED.” IR BRYAN WHITMORE belonged to TV? one of thehnost ancient families in West- - morland. He claimed descent on the female side from John de Foix, a French- . A .man, who was raised to the dignity of Earl 1 of Feudal by Henry VI., in recognition of V his services. during the French: Svars. , The estates formerly owned by the Whitmores had been of great extent, but a portion of them had been confiscated to the Crown through the political conduct of a former proprietor, Sir James Whitmore; who-took part with Derwentwater and Nithisdale in their gallant but unsuccessful rising, and the remainder of I ‘the property was-only preserved by the opportune marriage of Sir. James with a daughter of one of, the most powerful of Hanoverian courtiers. • Sir.'Bryan succeeded to an estate; the rent-roll' of which amounted to nearly eight thousand a year." It seemed an understood thing in this, family to allow the estates to descend with the title to the eldest son, though they were not ehtaaled. ; ■ .

. Whitmore Chase, Sir Bryan’s seat, was situated close to Winderinere, in the heart of that district which" inspired .with, its beauty. ; the minds of the “ Lake school” of poets. Within a short distance stood By dal'Mount; Wordsworth’s picturesque dwelling.; while; Whitmore.. Chase itself was not the least striking point'in the inimitablei landscape. The house;.was built on a gently ascending elevation ; and its picturesque architecture carried the minds of visitors ! back‘to { the days’ of "the vioyen age, when ; the gaily ; attired knights and. ladies thronged the greenlawn ixi front of the mansion, falcon oh. wrist, or.rode forth in stately cavalcade to .enjoy. the pleasures of the chase, from the tower crowning the house a'lne view of Windermere ;could ; be - obtained, with its lucid; paters sparkling and flashing in the w sunhght,' while the undulating: landscape! stretched in every direction, furnishing a subject worthy the pencil of Claude Lorraine or our own Gainsborough; : : J

* About a*fortnight after the -described* m oar Inst chapter,-.Sir Bryan was seated ' 1 -iff’-his library. An opened .letterTvas .before him, and judging from- thd • expression off Ms -features' its contents were anything but’ agreeable'. Suddenly he rose,and bell. >" •; ; J “Tell Mf-Beecham I Wish 'to see himhe said rva the summons! ,f; • , Shortly afterwards Beecham Whitmore "entered L, ‘ Her was 1 . 1 not unlike his brother Philip m personal appearance; but his features wore a very different expression'. Determination and craft were .Perceptible beneath the insincere smile with which* he sought to mask his real nature. *

Sir Bryan motioned his son to a seat; Beecham obeyed, and remained silent, waiting for his father to speak. “So the many hints yon have given me concerning Philip have proved true;” said the baronet, alter a long silence, daring which he had been regarding his son intently. “ I suppose you know all about the affair ?”- “I really do not; was the reply. “Iheardthis morning from a friend in London that Philip was married, but I did not entertain the slightest idea that he would take such a step, in direct opposition to the wish yon expressed to him.” . . ‘ And. l suppose you could have given me no information m time to prevent this disgraceful proceeding r demanded Sir Bryan suspiciously «1 sincerely wish I had been able to do so > replied Beecham, “ but even if I had been’informed- that Philip was abont. to. commit such a rash act, I think I should have treated the idea as too preposterous for belief.”

i Sir Bryan eyed liis son narrowly for some moments. -

“Itmatters not,” he.said, at length, “though I have my doubts on the matter.' Your, brother has disgraced the namehe bears; T disown him. I-have now but one son; let him reinember and take warding by the consequences of .his brother’s folly.”",;, ” ‘

Beecham muttered something, apparently interceding for Philip. ; “No more,” thundered the baronet, “ I doubt your sincerity ;• would that I could believe you knew not of this.before! Leave the room, and remember my warning.” '. | Beecham rose, and quitted the . apartment, and a smile of. gratified malice overspread his features las he closed the door.

/ “ At last I have succeeded,” he muttered, “ and this fair estate, will be mine ; but much remains to be accomplished before I can feel my position secure. -The least offence, on my part, and the old man _™‘ a S a in receive his pet into favour. I must see Philip, and persuade him to keep out of the way; or stay, perhaps—” and he remained silent for some time, in deep thought. “I.have it !” he suddenly exclaimed, “the sight of Philip while his wounded pride is yet ea P- .will inflame the old man to madness. Philip is hasty, and—l will write to him at once.” He hastily penned the following note to his brother, and despatched it to the post-office

My dear Brother,—l am deeply grieved to find that you have offended our excellent father, by rendering impossible the accomplishment of his dearest wish. 1 have attempted to intercede for you, but in vainl am suspected of complicity—you know how innocently. If you will follow my advice,comeat.once and ask his pardon; your presence may- -effect much, and I - really -sec no other way than this. 1 wish particularly to see you beforefjir Bryan does; therefore when you :trrive remain at the inn at Sedgwick; and send over to the Chase forme.”

“ That will do,” he chuckled, rubbing his hands, “ I will work upon the fool so that he will destroy, his only hope; and even if my father sees the letter he can only attribute it to brotherly affectioi . Brotherly affectiou!” he added,.with a sneer, “ a younger son cannot afford to include it iu his list of virtues !” • ' ' -

: l\vo days after the letter had been despatched the expected messenger arrived, and ' Beecham hastened to meet ,-liis, brother... Philip, was' very pale ; the crisis iwas .at hand on. which his, fate depended, and now that he had gained the prize so long sought, lie had 1 more seriously considered its probable cost. “ What does my father say ?” ' he eagerly asked, grasping his brother’s extended hand. Beecham shook his head. “You must be very careful,” he answered; “ see him, and acknowledge manfully that your happiness was involved in the matter. Above all things maintain an air, of ini dependence, and do not admit", that you have done wrong. Insist upon, your right of choosing for yourself; and though he may at first be angry, he will admire your straightforwardness upon reflection.”

“ But should he refuse to acknowledge-me ?” said Philip, ruefully. “To tell you the truth, my dear brother, I hurried into this marriage without reflecting upon its consequencesand now I see too plainly that I stand a fair chance of becoming a beggar.”

Beeckamtook his brother’s hand, arid said, with what he intended'to represent an affectionate smile,.and which :imp‘osed upon . the .credulous Philip, “You were never remarkable for delibera-tion-or calculation,' iny dear Philip ; and 1 suppose, with your usual-fickleness, ; you are already beginning to repent this match ?” Philip coloured, but; made a, gesture of dissent, and Beecham continued: “Do not lead Sir Bryan to suppose so ; you would only-heighten his exasperation if he believed , you had sacrificed his wishes to a, transient passion. See hi-m J arid adopt the course I have pointed out, and should his anger continue for a time,' rely upon me to act as a brother should do in such an emergency. You. know I do not spend half my allowance, and to what hetter purpose can . I apply it P” , Philip, overcome by this unexpected kindness, pressed his brother’s, hand, arid,, said, “Will you accompany me to the Chase?” Noreplied'Beecham,* “ I must not appear to have seen youj.or Sir Bryan may suspect us of collusion. .Go! at once, and I win remain here until your return.” Philip left the J inb, and took his way in the direction of Whitmore Chase,' pondering as he werit on the most likely means of averting his father’s anger. A. vague rumour was prevalent among the household servants (who are often as well informed upon such subjects as their masters) .that Philip had offended his father ; and the footman who opened the door cast an enquiring look upon his young master! , : ‘ - , “Is my father at home ?” Philip asked. : “ Yes, sir, he is iir the library,” was the: reply. “ Shall I-announce, you ; ( , “I wiH.announce; myself,” returned the. young man, ascending, the stairs. 1 ,‘ ! ' , The footinan shrugged his‘shoulders, and hurried to the kitchen with thehews. - ■ l *' - Sir Bryan was;regarding.with!a.mbumful gaze a small.painting which he heldiim his haud. ; ; It represented: ia .boy -about 1 { ten ; , years, of age, mounted on a Shetland pony, which he was leapling across,the; : prostrate.’ trunk' of an .'oalt j ilus

long flaxen curls streaming in the wind, and a merry smile on his handsome face. .The baronet groaned. _ “Stung to the heart,” he exclaimed, “ by the viper I,have reared.” . A footstep behind .him caused Sir Bryan to start; he torned, and beheld His son Philip. A pause of some'moments ensued; fierce emotions were warring within their breasts, forbidding speech. At length, with an effort, Sir Bryan drew himself up, and assuming an air of hauteur, said, “To wliat motive may I attribute this nnlooked for visit P” | ‘ “ Father!” said the young; man, imploringly, “ have yon no word of forgiveness for me ? True, I have v offended you, crossed your purpose, and destroyed your plans, but be not merciless. In all else I will cheerfully obey you, but man’s affections are not within his own control. Consent to see my wife ere you decide ; her beauty and gentleness will induce yon to forgive us.” “ Have you anything further to say ?” Sir Bryan enquired, when Ms s<sn paused. "Surely I need say no more,” replied Philip, “ You wish me to give rip painting,"l • will cheerfully do so, enter Parliament, comply with every wish you may ’ express; nay, anticipate your wishes—”

“Hold!” interrupted Sir Bryan. “I have thus far patiently listened to you because I expected to hear some reasonable excuse for the intrusion of one who might at least have had the grace to remain in the class of society he has chosen. Now, mark well my words. I have but one son, Ms name is Beecham WMtmore; it is he who will succeed to my estates, and maintain the honor of my-name. As to you, I know you no more, I disown you. Your future path lies with your drunken companions at the alehouse, the menial of which you have chosen to wed. You start! .I am aware of more than you imagine. This much-I will do, that as the future Lady WMtmore —” and he pronounced the name with sneering emphasis,—“ will-no doubt wish to return to her former occupation, I will advance you a sufficient sum to in that business to wMch she is accustomed, providing you resign the name you have degraded: I dismiss you from my memory, and consider you hut as this, a thing off the past.” He threw the picture on the carpet,, and ground it beneath Ms heel. The effect of tMs withering speech upon Philipwas such as might have been anticipated by any person acquainted with his character. Prudence,, his future prospects, every cautious feelingvanished, and he rejoined, passionately, " I scorn your sneers, and -treat your ironical offer with contempt. Keep your money, and with it your name; I will have neither. Since you disown me, so be it ; I accept the rejection. Do not fear that I shall ever trouble you, for even in starvation’sdirest extremity I will never appeal to yon, so help me Heaven! Henceforth we are dead to each other;” and he rushed, from the room. Sir Bryan turned pale as his son addressed him; and as the door closed after Philip the old man stretched out Ms arms, muttered something inarticulately, and fell prostrate in an epileptic fit.

The noise of the fall alrirmed the servants, some of whom entered the library, and found their masteriri the condition described. A groom was at once despatched on horseback for a physician, who soon arrived; and under Ms skilful treatment Sir Bryan gradually'recovered the shock to his, system, but he was an altered man. Always reserved, he became still more so, wandering about his grounds, and muttering to.himself. Bis son Bedcham, by his father’s express wish, resigned his intention of becoming a barrister, and remained at Whitmore Chase; and as time rolled op tlie name of Philip was almost forgotten in the district, and Beecham Whitmore was universally recognised as the heir to WMtmore Chase.

(To he contimced.)

The Arawas and the Late Murders at Opotiki. —The Tauranga Record, of the 13th July, contains the followingMr Commissioner Clark, along, with Mr Gill, returned on Friday, the sth instant, from Rotorua, whither they had been on an official visit to the Arawas. This visit was very opportune, for that powerful tribe were greatly incensed and their feelings deeply wounded by the loss of their relative, Wiremu Te Papota, who has been so cruelly butchered by the Opotiki banditti. They were on the eve of departing to wreak vengeance on his murderers, when Mr Clarke arrived and prevailed ou them to leave the matter entirely in the hands of the Government.” Threatened Raid oh Tauranga.— The Tauranga Record, 13th July, Bays:—“It is reported that tlie Arawa tribe have communicated with the authorities au intimation of an intended invasion of the Tauranga district by .a portion of the disaffected tribes, some, of whom, it is said to the number of 100, have left the Waikaio for that purpose. The object of the Araw as in giving this information is that the outsettlers may be warned- in time. We givethia report as we have received it.” The Friendly (?) Natives at Opoteki. —The Opotiki correspondent of the Tauranga Record, in a recent communication to that journal, has the following statementWe commend the concluding remarks tothe consideration of- those whom it may concern. The writer saysA portion of the natives who a short-time ago had. arms.issued to them from the militia store, m -this, camp, have to-day returned and handed them back again. This will prove a saving to the Government, as when they had them in their possession , they were very reckless in their expenditure of am mu- - nitiori; besides, as is often the case, totally ; forgetting during an attack (if they are on . our side) that one great feature in the correct way of loading is to put in hoth powder and bullet, and not to ignore the latter article entirely l ” Boiling Down Horses. —A correspondent of the Sydney Empire, writing froia . Liverpool Plains, says:—-‘A new enter-; prise haß been set on foot • here—boiling i down horses for the oil, the bones are thea r crushed, and the hides saved- As; horses* have been sold iu -Yass for 6d per head*’ and at Goulburn 2s 6d, it is very probable this may pay, and so would turn! to profitable account the worthless portion., [of this stock.”