OUT OF DARKNESS; OR The Priory Mystery.

King Country Chronicle, Volume III, Issue 114, 10 December 1908, Page 4

OUT OF DARKNESS; OR The Priory Mystery.

'(All'Rights Reserved.)

By HEDLEY RTCHARDS, Author of "A "Pay of Reckoning," "From the Mill to the Mansion," Etc., Etc,

TART 6. The lawyer rose. "Your uncle has sent the carriage, and he wished me to drive with you to the Grange, Miss Calthorp," he said.

••rndeed, I hope you will not desert me now." she answered ; and in another minute they were crossing the platform. Outside the station a closed brougham with a pair of fine grey horses was waiting, and as they took their seats in it Scholes told her that her luggage would follow on the cart.

"Is it far to the Grange?" she nsked.

"About three miles. One of Mr. Ca'thorp's pits is on the other side of Hcllifield."

"Did you say that my uncle had more than one pit?" "Yes ; he owns two : the other is at Mvthcinroyd. And there's another pit there—it belongs to the Dcwhirsts :" and the lawyer sighed. Ursula knew he was referring to the pit that had belonged to the man whom -John L'Estrange had been found guilty of murdering, but she did not ask any questions.

After driving some distance they turned along a lane, and presently she saw between the trees a n old ivycovered mansion. The blinds were drawn over all the windows, making it look like a house of death ; and turn'ng to the lawyer, she said :

"Is some one dead there?" "Xo : the house is not occupied, save by the caretakers. It has a history. No doubt you will hear <t, but there would not be time to tell you before we get to the Grange. Your Uncle's park joins- this. See, there ; \ou can catch a glimpse of the house."

Craning her heck out of-the window, --Ursula *--*w,'-a' straggling, uneven building that was almost blavck with age. It had windows with leaded ca-scments, and here and there a quaint old bow window of later date than the original building, that seemed to tell of age and strength. "It looks as old as the hills," sho said.

"Yes, it's very old. There is a moat at the other side and a drawbridge : it used to be round the house, but it was filled in, except at the side. The (Jrange is said to be one of the oldest houses in Lancashire. It l-Kdonged to the L'Estranges, of the Hall, but the 1/Estrange who sold it had got into some money dillicully, and when your great-grandfather offered him a big price for it ho sold the house and park, but retained the rest of the estate ; then he added to the family dower house, making it a substantial mansion, which since then has been called Mythemroyd Hall. Ah, here we are," he said, as the ;arriage turned in at some gates iv!th ancient stone posts ; and Ursula saw nn ivy-covered lodge, and a woman who was standing near the gate dropped a curtsey. Ursula laughed. 'Toes she do that to every one who drives through ?" she asked. "To a good many, but it was a larticularly respectful one to you. The people know the heiress is coming to the Grange, and I believe a great deal of curiosity is felt about you. Miss Calthorp."

Ursula did not reply. There was a strange mingling of emotion, and above all a consciousness that she was glad to come to the home of ler forefathers : but when a few nfinutes later the carriage stopped in front of a great door stuelded with brass nails, which seem to open by magic, she was quiet and composed. An an.-icnt butler, with a footman b?h : nrt hinti-istood just within, and as Ursula entered, followed by the lawyer, he said : "Mr. Calthorp is in the library. Would you please step the re ?" and they followed him in silence : then as a door was opened and the butler announced "Miss Calthorp .and Mr. Scholcs," she entered.

A tall, grey-haired man, stern of

faee. who looked a s though the troubled of a lifetime, instead of softening, had kit him hard as granite, came forward to meet her, looking keenly at the sensitive, highbretl face.

"I am glad to see you. You are the last e>f the Calthorps, yet not aCalthorp." She looked inquiringly a t him. "You are an Ashurst. You are like your grandmother—with a difference.'" he. added, as he noticed a Slight curl of her lip. "I am sorry. I would rather be like the Calthorp." "I see you owe them less of a grudge : but the Ashursls ha.vc a and you will find it counts with the world to have their blood in your veins. And now as lo your position here, you are my heiress. Kale has elenice! that, one nearer to me should inherit, and 1 don't, choose to let the money that has been hardly made got to charity, so it falls to you. the last oi the Calthorps. You may think 1 am brutally plain, but it is better v.e should understand each othei from the first. 1 have nett semght sou from any sentimental wish tc ci'iht a wrong. I wanted an heiress of my uwn blood. 1 hope we shall 1 e u-e'.od friends, but you must not i.-siec 1 . .more than that. You will ha'\e a liberal allowance for pocket money. I wish you to dress well ; lite; bills I. shall pay. Now, I daresay you would like to rest after your journey, so I will ring for the housekeeper to take you to your room. P>y the way we eline at j,. v ,■,;,••- he said, as he touched the bell : then turning to the lawyer, he '"aid :

••Scholes. can you wait a few minutes ? I want to have a talk with you."

The' lawyer signified his willingness, and Ursula seateel herself and took stock of the room, while Air,

Calthorp and Mr. Scholcs discussed the journey and the weather, till she wished she could escape from the room, knowing that she was to be the subject of the talk between her Uncle and the lawyer, and they were waiting- i'oi' her to go. A few minutes elapsed, then a tall, portly woman of sixty entered the room.

•-.Mrs. Kill's this is my niece. Will 1 011 show her to her room?" Ursula rose, and something in the woman's pleasant faee caused her tc put out her hand in a friendly fashion.

"I'm glad to see you, miss, and 1 hope you'll be happy here," she said as she led the way from the room up a broail stone staircase, richly carpeted, then along a wide corridor with a huge diamond-paive window at the end, through which the afternoon sun poured. Opening a door, she waited for Ursula to pass into a prettily-furnished room.

"This is your boudoir. Miss Calthorp. and that door leads into the dressing-room, and from the one opposite into the bedroom. There',* been very little time to get it done up. but we've had a lot of workpeople. You see, it had to be fresh pap< red." I'rsula looked round. The pretty lia-ht papers relieved the darkness of the oak wainscoting, and the rooms, wit It their dainty new furniture—that. however, had been chosen with regard to the character of the house in which it was to be placed—pleased her. •■You like it ?" said Mrs. Ellis, who was quick to note the look ol sat refaction.

"Yes ; it is very goe>d of Mr. Calthorp. I suppose I ought to -say 'my uncle.' "

••Yes, miss ; I think he wotdel like it. Excuse me, but you are very like the countess, your grandmother, and you've a look of your other grandmother, the captain's wife."

"Did you know my father's parents?" Ursula asked, with interest.

"Yes, miss. When 1 was a girl. : i.v father had the Yew Kami. a. mile win here, and F often used to see the captain riding about. He was great for sport, but. net head for business : but a real fine man. with a pleasant word for everybody." "And you know my father and mother ?"

"Yes, miss. Y'out father stayed here, once —or twice when he was a boy, and again when he met Lady Monica. After that Mr. Calthorp •vould have no more to do with him. You sec, he didn't think the Ashursts had been fairly treated, and Lady Kathleen got into trouble with him because she had been in \ our mother's confidence." "Who was Lady Kathleen?"

"She was Mr. Cnllhorp's wife. Her father was an Irish peer. She w a s the brightest, prettiest little lady, full of fun at first : but she sobered down a bit. Mr. Calthorp always was a grave gentleman. Her ladyship died when her second child, poor Mr. Dick, was born, just six months a-fter your mother's marriage, 1 know if she'd lived she'd never have lost sight of Mr. Jack and Lady Monica." "Was it Mr. Dick who died a little while ago ?" asked Ursula. "Yes. miss. He was always delicate, but full of fun, like his mother. You'd have found the house very different when Mr. Hob wa-s quieter and graver, more like his father. He was thrown from his horse and killeei only two years ago."

"And my cousin Hick. What did he die of ?" askeel Ursula. "He took cold, and it developed into pneumonia. The master was nearly distracted when he. dieel. He loved Mr. Dick the best of his two sons- It's been a changed house the last six months. I'm afraid it'll be lonely for a young lady live you." i'rsula looked at her as she *aid :

"Do you know, I'd thought I should feel miserable, yet the nearer 1 got to Hellifield the more at home I felt. And it's the same here. I icel a.s though I knew the place, and was not a .stranger. . It-m't it peculiar, Mrs. Ellis ?" The housekeeper smiled. "It's the call of the blood, miss."

Then she rang the bell, and in a few minutes a maid appeared with a tray, on which a substantial tea was served, and as Mrs. Ellis waitetl on her. having dismissed the girl, she said :

"There was a strange thing happened this morning. A young lad.v named Miss Kinlayson—though everybody cails her 'Miss Nettie'— called to see you. and when she heard you hadn't arrived, she told Mason, the butler, that she should call in a day or two. The young laelv has been in a convent ' for <oiuv months. and I didn't know -he'd returned home, and she seemed sti determined to see you. Mason said."

At that moment one of the maids came to tell the housekeeper she was wanted, and as she left the room Ursula leaned back in her chair wondering why Nettie Kinlayson, the cousin of the escaped convict, wanted to sea her.

CHAPTER IX. NETTIE KINLAYSON

The next few days passeel quickly. Mr. Calthorp had written to a wellknown costumier in London, and requested that a complete outfit (or a irirl of twenty might be sent in charge of a person who was capable ji making alteratians. and Ursula had to stand patiently -while the gowns were fitted and measurements taken for others, until she got wear;, of trying on new clothes, Though she was not without a girl's love of pretty things, yet. as she told her foster-mo! her when shewrote to her. sin" felt it was possible to have too much of a good thing. Moreover, it had been very wet, so she had not been out of the house ; therefore the fourth day after her arrival, when the sur shone, she elecided she would go on an exploring expedition. Putting on her hat. she set oil directly after breakfast, leaving the house by a side door, and, crossing a bridge over the moat, she passed through the garden into the park. At one side of her lay a wood, and opening a little gate thai led into it, she found herself on a shadv path.' The trees nearly met overhead, but here and there patches of blue sky could be seen. and the hot sun made her glad tc pass into the shade? againAs . she walked leisurely on sh<

thought of all that had happened during the summer. It had been an eventful one, and now it was drawing to a close' ; the next day would usher in another month. Busy with her re/lections, she went further than she had intended, and presently the sound of voices made her pause ; then she heard a woman say '•

"You think they won't get Jack L'Est range now?"

"Not they : those warders are as bad a-- the police. 1 expect he's <;ot c!i*fir of the country. Confound it !" The speaker was a man. and his voice, though low, was clear, and Ursula felt sure the two people mi:s! be somewhere near. Shi? wn< going to move a way. when the words, "in another country he ma,\ 1 e aide, to clear himself. In prisoi there was no chance : but now there are infinite possibilities." arrested her. and she noticed there was o sneer iti the woman's voice.

"Helen, there are times when 1 should like to strangle you." The words were spoken in a tone of concentrate rage. "I'on't. If wouldn't be safe. Eve t oketi precautions." "What do you mean ?" he asked.^ "I mean lots of things, and amoifg (hem that you shouldn't take fright too soon. You look awfully upset when you talk about your cousin and I've told you all along that yoi: needn't count on inheriting his properly. Even twenty years' pena' servitude would not kill a man ol .laek 1/Estrange's physique, anc he'd be sure to be liberated at the end of fifteen years. Good conduct counts." said the woman.

"Well, if they get him now he'll serve the full twenty years :" anc there was satisfaction in the speaker's voice.

Ursula had been about to return, telling herself —even i« the conversation was about the man in whom she took n vital interest—that she had no right to listen : but the brutal complacency with which this man alluded to him having to serve twenty years made her decide tc hear what she could. She had promised t 0 help .John I/Est range if it was ever in her power, and shemight hear something that wotdel be of use. The man's next words startled icr. "J suppose you've heard that Nettie has left, the convent ? She appearee! without any announcement, and when I asked why she had returnee! she told me it was ne) business of mine, that 1 wasn't master of the Hall, and she's settled down as though she'd never been away. Of course. I didn't know anything of her until the time of the trial : but she's what I should call a creepy voting person, not at all like a nun. You heard that Calthorp has taken a niece to live with him ? Well, Nettie was all in a fidget to see her. 1 heard her tell Miss I.'Estrange that this girl knew .lack." "Never!" and the woman's tone was incredulous. "It's trite, and the old lady replied. 'Then bring her he-re. lovey.' I believe they are both a.s mad a.s March hares." In her surprise a i the wofels spoken Ursula, moved, and her foot pressed a twig. The noise, slight as it was startled the pair who were talking, and she heard the man exclaim : "Confound it, there's some one near '. We ought not to have been, talking- here. I'll kcc who it is ;" but almost before the words were out of Jiis mouth Ursula had gather-

-el her skirts round her, and was Hying in the eiircriion that she had come, taking care to step lightly, and she did not slop running until she was within sight of the gate that led into the garden. As she passed through it she saw that a gardener was busy among the ("lowers, and. pausing, she inquired ivhere the path led. The man. toucheel his straw! hat as he replied :

"The path goes as far as the railings that divide the Priory park Tom Mr. .Calthorp's estate. The house is in charge- of a caretaker, bu( the park is kept in pretty good order."

Ursula went slowly forward, deep in thought. So she had been on the confines of the Priory park, and Hie speakers, whoever they were, had been on the :>ther side of the railings. She reaiembe'red seeing the railings between lh- trees that, had evidently hidden the man and the. woman who 1 ttok ■mch interest, and 1 hat. unfriendly, in John I.'Estrange, the escaped ronvitt. Ursula decided she must discover who they were. It would he an easy matter to identify them by their voices. Moreover. she stii.'w that, erne of them lived at Mythemroyd Hall and posed a.s master, or Nettie Finlayson would not have reminded him that he diel not really occupy that position. As Ursula thought of this girl, whose love affair hud been the cause of suspicion attaching to I/Estrange vet who had let the condemneei man -ee she believed he was guilty, a feeling of dislike took possession of ner, mingled with wonder as to how she had got to know that the man whti had escaped from Dartmoor <new her. Crossing the drawbridge, she entered the house, and went at once lei the housekeeper's parlour, where she found Mrs. Ellis busy with some accounts. She rose as Ursula entered. "Sit. down, Mrs. Ellis. I've come It) have a chat with you," she said, ?s she seateel herself in an easyThai r.

The housekeeper looked gratified (To be Continued).