OUT OF DARKNESS; OR The Priory Mystery.

King Country Chronicle, Volume III, Issue 112, 3 December 1908, Page 4

OUT OF DARKNESS; OR The Priory Mystery.

(All Rights Reserved.)

By IIEDLEY RICHARDS, Author of 'A Pay of Reckoning," •'From the Mill to the Mansion," r.tc, lite.

I'ART 4. '• "You contemptible hound. IT shake the life out of you if you don't hold your tongue !' I shouted '• 'All right, I'll hold my tongue, but I'll just give You one piece d information first. The pitman's daughter happens to be my wife, and" to-morrow I shall bring hei hero as mistress.

" 'The words struck me dumb foi a moment, then feeling 1 dare not trust myself in the same room with him lest 1 gave him the thrashing he deserved, I went towards the French window, that slood open, and stepped out of it on to the lawn, pausing to tell him that i hoped he would keep out of my way. Then, instead of making for the main entrance I crossed the park and came out in a ianc that was at the back of the mansion. It was a narrow, winding country lanc, and doubled the distance to the Rail, but I did not want to reach home until after Nettie had retired. I was so busy thinking what was best to be done that I did not notice I had left my stick at the Priory until I was nearly home. I debated whether I should return, as it had belonged to my father, and 1 did not want'to lose it. Rut T decided I would send over for it the next day, as I remembered laying it down in the sitting-room, and I did r.ot feel like facing my cousin agn'n that night. On arriving at horn > ! cntc.'cil by the side door, in order to avoid seeing Nettie, if she had stayed up to see me, and went at on:c to the smoke-room, where I cat smoking anil considering Nettle's itiifo tunatc love affair until ll.e' 'summer morning dawned, then 1 went to bed.

"I was aroused about eight o'clock by my man/who told me the inspector of police wanted to see me, and on going downstairs 1 was at nice arrested for the murder of my cousin. The news that he had been killed was a fearful shock, but that i should be suspected.was almost incomprehensible. However, when I heard the evidence at the inquest I was not surprised that I had been arrested. My cousin had been killed jy a blow on the back of the head, and that it had been dealt by a ■■ tick was evident, as blood and hairs were found on the kneft. The servants had heard us quarrelling, and the fact that I had not left the house in the ordinary way, but none out by the window, told against me, also the fact that I liad entered niy own home unknown to any one.

"I was committed for trjial at the assizes, when the whole story of vhat had incensed me against my ;ousin came out. The butler had heard me say I'd shake the life out of his master, there was the evidence of the stick, and the time of death tallied pretty nearly with the time I was known to have been at the

•Yiory. Whoever killed my cousin mist'have done it within half an I:our of my departure, and the scrvants said that no one else had iccii in the house.

"My counsel fought hard, but I, was found guilty, the sentence being •educed to penal servitude for life. I Now, Miss Ursula, I told you the, truth when I said I left my cousin' alive. In face of the evidence against me, can you believe that I; am guiltless of his death ?" he ask-' _>d, looking keenly at her. "I am quite sure you are. I wouldn't doubt your innocence, and I'm vert- gfad you came here, and that Silas was able to help you." "That's liglijt, missie. I read in the papers a R Mr. L'Estrange has told you, and it sounded a thousand times worse the way they brought t out in evidence, yet I knew they'd got hold of the wrong- man. Of L-ourse, the stick did it, but some, one else is:d it, audi the police weretoo stupid, or it was too much trouble to find the right man, so they took the one that was handy," said Silas, in a tone of disgust. "What did your cousin Nettie say to the murder being laid on you ?" asked Ursula.

"She didn't say anything. She vas vevy ill for some time, but alter my conviction I received a short nptc rom her telling me that she felt she had been the cause of so much trouble in her short life, she was goinginto a convent as a novice, and should eventually take the veil. Since then I have not heard from her, and knowing her so well, I realised that she believed I was guilty, but blamed herself for having roused my anger," "I think she must be a queer sort of girl to act in that planner," said Ursula.

Before he could reply, Silas said : "Now, missie, you must be going. It won't do to run no risks ;" and I'rsula held out her hand to John 1/' Estrange, who grasped it as he said :

"Good-bye, Miss Ursula. T live in hope* that my innocence will be moved : then you will see me again." "Good-bye ;" and she turned away villi tears in her eyes as she thought that this man. through no 'au!t")f his own, hod to leave home ami 'country. Then she followed Siias into the next room, the panel was closed, the garments hung in place, and in a minute or two she was in the sitting-room, waiting for the lefuin of her foster-parents, That night t'rsuia could not ■iie-p". She knew that the stranger -nav. she couldn't think of him as a stranger ;iow —was to leave with Silas, but the hitter had told her that it was his inLeiUUi!) to start an hour earlier than usual, before a'nv of lhe farm servants were about, a. ml ,-!)" resolved to lie av.ak'' until they had gone. Rut towards three o'clock she fell ipto an uneasy slumber, from Which she. was roused an hour later by the sound of wheels, and she knew it wus Silas and Mr. l/Hstraiige ; and as the sou.'id grew fainter she gave a sigh of relief as she thought they.

were safely off. As she iay awake she pictured the fine manly face of John L'Fstrange. ami wondered that any one could believe he was a murderer. Then .-he thought what a difference clothes mode, and how very lucky that Siias- had kept the suit of clothes, mid an old travelling-hag that had belonged to her foster-fa I her's nephew. " He had given 1 lie old man one or two suits that were in prctfv good condition, saying- he could have, them made to fit him. as he had bought a new rig-out before going to India, where he had got _an appointment to represent an English firm. T'rsula never cared for this nephew, who had told her from the time she was a little girl that some day he should marry her. But now she felt that his last visit had been of some benefit, seeing he had !'•!'(■. the clothes behind him that enabled the hunted man to get away with more hope of escaping detection.

Meanwhile Silas and his companion had reached the station, in the little town of Tranmere, in time for tin- latter to catch the quarter to live train, and he took a ticket for the junction at which he had to change, thinking it would be better not to book to London. He wore a light overcoat, with the collar pulled tip. and his spectacles considerably altered his face : still, Silas felt, that he should be glad when 1/Estrange was safely out of England. "You'll drop me a line just before you sail ?" he said. in. a low tone.

1/Est range, who had a carriage to himself, leaned out of the window.

"Of course I shall, and later I'll give you an address. I should iike to hear how 7 Miss I'rsula is. R.v the way, what is her real name?" he said, as the train began to move. "Calthorp,' replied the old man. L'Fstrange started. Silas saw that he recognised the name. "Calthorp ! I know" The steam was up, and the re-'-.ainder of the sentence was lost as t'.e train rushed out of the stat'on. CHAPTER VI. AN ADVERTISEMENT On hjs way home Silas de-ided that, it would not be wise to tell misie that Mr. I/Estrange had recognised the name of Calthorp. He would be sure to name it when he wrote, then he could tell her; but it was no use upsetting her, because whoever her people were, they evidently had no desire to have air thing to do with her. Having come to this decision when, x few hours after his return, he found an opportunity of speaking privately to Ursula, ho told her that Mr. 1/ Est range had got safely away ; but he did not add that he had expressed a wish to hear of her well-being, thinking it was better she should forget him. However, Ursula had evidently no thought of forgetting the late inmate of the farm, as a day later she inquired if Silas had heard from him, and was told he had not ; but the next day a letter came for Silas, telling him the writer had sailed on the Ocean Queen, bound for Australia.

"I hope'he'll do well there, missie, and make a fortune, because it's not likely he'll ever be able to return to this country," said Silas. "I thought you believed he was innocent ?" exclaimed Ursula. "I do, missie ; but there's lot of innocent people who arc never cleared."

"You have not much faith in God," she replied, indignantly. "That I have. I know as there's a Providence, but I've never quite understood His ways. No doubt in the long run it'll be right, but things get awful muddled here, and they're not always set right." Ursula did not reply. She felt sure that she should see Mr. L'Estrange again, and that his inno« cence would be established. A week passed, and one morning when she was glancing over tho daily paper she read :

"WRECK OF THE OCEAN QUEEN

ALL LIVES LOST."

With a white face, and hands that trembled so thai she could scarcely hold the paper, she read how the hull had keen seen just above' water by another vessel, and one or two boats bottom uppermost, had been found, showing that the passengers and crew had taken to the boats, but there were no tidings of survivors, and it was surmised the vessel had struck on a rock during a fearfuj storm.

So this was the end of John L'Estrangc ! Then as she pictured the fine-looking man whom she had met in the secret chamber a strange feeling sprung'up within her. Somehow she could not believe in his death. A conviction that he was living took possession of her, and, regaining her composure, she went to find Silas. He was busy in the garden at the back, but as she approached he looked up. "That storm the other night has done a lot of damage in the orchard," he said. "It's done morv than damage the orchard; it's wrecked the Ocean Queen." she said, in a solemn tone, remembering that if the man mlioiu she had known was saved, there were others drowned i'pr whom hearts would be aching.

Silas paused in his work. "Is it In the paper?" he asked

"Yes ; and it is thought that nouu have survived," she said. Silas used the spade vigorously ;

then he said : "The ways of Providence are past finding out. lie's given him a large freedom. All the same, 1 wish the poor gentleman had lived to have a bit of happiness apd *«'e h is name cleared. - '

"|. thought ypij believed that would neve,: 1,,.,-" she said, sharply, "Well, one never knows ; but T liked him, and I'm sprry his gone," i'rsula leaned forward, speaking slowly and distinctly : "Silas, I don't believe he is dead. I've a feeling that he's alive." Tho old man regarded her ly'•'Well, you always were a bit what my mot Iter—she was a Scotchwoman —called fey, sp niaybe you are right; but {'J! read the paper, then. I'tJ talk to you, missie." Two days later Siias told Ursula that he shouldn't be a bit surprised if .Mr. L'Fstrange had not been drowned, but decided not to let the world know he had survived, as any

one who did would be sure to be talked about, and that was just what he would wish, to avoid. This coincided with the girl's own opinion, and as the days went, on, instead of thinking of him as dead, she would wonder where he was and what he was doing ; but it. never occurred to think that it was singular she should take such an interest, in a man whom she had only seen twice—the first, time for a minute or two. under circumstances which it pained her to recall. The last ne cling had made a great impression, and she thought of him with pleasure. Jn spite of a further paragraph in the papers saying that there was no doubt, 'every one on board the Ocean Queen had perished she still cherished the belief that 1/ Est range was living and some day they would meet. One morning. about a fortnight after the loss' of the vessel, Reuben •Johnson came into the kitchen where

his wife was busy helping Betsy to pack the dinners for the men that were io be sent, to the harvest field, and I'rsula was pouring custard into glasses. ••Mother, r want you and I'rsula to come into Hie sitting-room." he said, in an excited tone : and glancing at him. they saw that something unusual had happened. I'rsula put the empty pan on a stone slab at one side, then placing her hand on his arm. she said : "What is it. dad? Something thing wonderful must have happened to bring you home a t this time." '•You're right : something wonderful has happened. Rut it's no use telling the tale twice, so we'll wait for the mother," he said, as they went along the passage to tne sit-ting-room. "Oh,, here she is !" he added, as his wife followed them into the room and seated herseli in the rocking-chair. I'rsula. drawing a basket-chair forward, looked up at her foster-father as he slood with his back to the empty ruegrate. Mind, I don't say it's good news at least, it's mixed. I'rsula may think it's good. Rut I'll begin at the beginning. Tony Luke was lounging about the gate of the harvest field, instead of delivering the papers here and at Path's Farm, so when I saw him he looked sheepish and was hurrying away, but I called to him to stop and let me have my paper. When I'd got it 1 sat down on the bank under a tree, and had a look at what they were doing in the House of Commons. After that [ read the general news, end I was just going to lay the paper down, ivhon Ursula's name caught my eye," tie said, pausing. "My name ?" exclaimed the girl ; but Mrs. Johnson did not speak. Her face became pale, and she gripped the arms of the rocking-chair. "Yes ; I'll read you the advertisement." And he read, in a loud, sonorous

Lone : " 'Wanted, information as to the .vhercabouts of I'rsula Calthorp, daughter of John Ewart Calthorp and Monica, his wife, who was the Duly daughter of Lord Galesworthy, now Earl of JTcllifield. The said Ursula Calthorp will be about twenty years of age, and was at the time of her mother's death left in Charge of Ann and Richard Brown. Two hundred pounds reward will be, paid for information that results in aer being found. Apply Scholes, solicitor, Hellifield, Lancashire.' " When Reuben had finished reading, tie looked at Ursula, saying : "That means you ;" and his tone Defrayed regret. Then Salome spoke i "After all these years, when I'd o'egun to think I need not fear any 9ne claiming you '." In a moment Ursula sprang to her feet, and putting her arms round icr foster-mother's neck, she said : "It does not mean that I shall nave to leave you." "That's just what it does mean. my lass. People don't offer two hundred pounds just to hear that a girl's alive and well. They want rou to be one of them," said Reuben, in a tone of conviction. Ursula threw her head back proud-

"It's taken them a long time to find out they t wanted me, and but, for vou I shouid have had to go to the workhouse, or been brought up a thief or a beggar. I owe everything to you and mother, so if you don't want to get rid of me. we'll take no notice of that advertisement."

"Just listen to the lassie. Want to get rid of you ? It'll be like taking the best out of our lives if you go. All the same, right's right, and it's our duty to answer that. Don't vou think so, wife?" he asked. "Yes, we must do it, though it means dark days for us. still, wo must do our duly," she answered.

In her heart Ursula was glad that they had come to this decision. She had often longed to know who her people were : now she was to leani, but. it might not mean having to leave the home where she had spent, <o many happy years, and she uttered what was in her mind. "1 may not have to leave you. There may be some reason why they want to know if Tm alive." "You see. my dear." said Reuben,

"when I first came across you. you said your grandfather's name was Marcus. Ford Galesworthy : but I thought the ' Lord' was his second Christian name, and did not think tip was a real lord. So you see uiu belong to the nobility, and vou'll have to go to your own people. Bless my heart, you'll be quite a great lady," said Reuben, trying to speak heartily, but his voico was husk-y. (To be Continued).