OUT OF DARKNESS; OR The Priory Mystery.

King Country Chronicle, Volume III, Issue 116, 17 December 1908, Page 4

OUT OF DARKNESS; OR The Priory Mystery.

(All Rights Reserved.)

By HE.DLEY RICHARDS, Author of "A Day of Reckoning," "From the Mill to the Mansion," Etc., Etc.

PART S. "T went to get away from the horror. At the Hall I always seemed to see Jim, and I pictured him as they found him. Even now ] cannot bear to pass the Priory You muslfi't expect to sec me often. And that reminds me, 1 want you to come to luncheon to-morrow, come early, and stay to tea." Ursula hesitated, wondering whether she ought to consult her uncle before she accepted the invitation hut she decided she would risk it, and promised to be at the Hall by noon the next day.

"That's right; I shall be on the look-out for you. Good-bye ;" anc she put her hand that burned feverishly into Ursula's, and v in another moment she was gone.: • A few .minutes later Mr. Calthorp entered the room. "I * see you have had a ' visitor," he remarked. "Y'es ; Mifs Finlayson has askec me to lunch' at the Hall to-inorrow. I accepted. Did I do right, uncle V

"I don't see how you could have refused. Still, I should like to give you a Word of warning. There is a man there—Horace L'Estrange ; steer clear of him. Of course, Nettie would tell you about him. Oi coarse, Nettie would tell you about the tragedy. I don't know what version "she gave you, but the ma™ who was condemned is innocent." "Miss Finlayson believes that."

•Does she ? Then Nettie has veered round. I wonder why she has come out of the convent ?"

Ursula did not reply, and just then the luncheon bell rang.

CHARTER XI. A SUIH'UTSE FOR URSULA

. It was just twelve o'ejock the next day when the carriage stopped at the front entrance to Mythemroyd ITaIU and Ursula stepped out, as a jirl came with a quick, gliding movement round a corner of the house and, clasping her hand, said : "I'm glad'you've come in good time. Aunt Jane is in the garden, so we'll go there ; not that she will entertain you, but I want you to feel at home here, so you must know us' all, even Horace, I sup-

pose. • While she/was speaking they had passed round .the house, and on the other side was a wide, smooth lawn, intersected with beds full of flowering plants. Further from the house there was some great beech trees; and under one of these Ursula saw that an old lady was seated. Nettie followed the direction of her eyes.

"That's Aunt Jane. I want to introduce you. But you mustn't be surprised if she makes some comment on you ; she's different from other people. She's a way of making remarks about them to herself, and sometimes she ignores them altogether." As they drew near Ursula saw that the. woman, who was seated on a rustic bench wm\ov the tree, did not look like ordinary people. Her head was small, and the scanty hair was drawn close to it, making her plain, expressionless face, with the snub no'-c and small eyes,-look more unattractive than it need have done. Her hands—that held a half-knit-ted stocking of the ■ finest .wool— lay idly in her lap, while she looked down at the grass at her feet. "Aunt Jane, I've brought Miss Calthorp to see you," said Nettie, as then- drew near.

For a moment the old woman took no notice, then, she slowly raised a pair of sniull bine eyes to Ursula's face, and a second Inter they rested on the knitting that lay .on her knee. , "Sit down, dear. Aunt Jane doesn't observe the ordinary civilities of life," said Nettie,, as she drew Ursula to the seat next the old woman.

"Calthorp-! There ncyer was a girl Calthorp," they heard''her mutter.

Ursula turned towards her and spoke gently. "I'm Mr. Calthorp's great-niece, John Calthorp's daughter. ;. My father's dead. Perhaps you re ember him ?"

There was no answer, and Nettie inquired if she didn't think the Hall an ugly square-building.

Ursula laughed. "I cannot say it possesses much beauty, but I suppose'the L'Estranges used to live at the (Jrange. I see their coat-of-arms is over the gateway and in the hall." "Lost through a lass, gained through a lass." The words were muttered by Aunt Jane, and Ursula, turning to look at her, met a furtive look, then the old woman's eyes dropped. "What does this mean ?" asked Ursula.

"Oli, there's a sort of legend. You know it was Aunt Jane's father who sold the Grange to your greatgrandfather. It all happened sixty years ago, -when Aunt Jane was only eight years old. and her broth -r, Jack's grandfather, about fourteen. Their father had married a second time quite a girl. She was •awfully extravagant. She gambled, she bet on horse's, and spent money lceklessly ; then one day she was killed in the hunting-field. but not before she ruined her husband. lie sold the Grange and park to clear his dead wife's debts, then he enlarged this house, and somehow he got it into his head that the Grange would come back to the L'Esiranges : and just before his death In' startled those around him by rousing up and saying, ' The Grange, ios!. through a lass, gained through a lass.'

"Aunt Jane heard him say it. and she remembers leaving the Grange, though she never talks a.bout it ; but. I think she believes the Grange will come back to the L'Estranges,"

said Nettie in a subdued tone. At that moment a footman aj>peared, and told Keltic that a person from the draper's at ilellifiehi wished to see her.

"I must go. Tliev have been getting me some special corsets. AHer luncheon we "ill have a long talk, she said : then crossed the lawn with that peculiar gliding- movement that seemed natural to her. Ursula watched until she disappeared round the corner of tin house. Suddenly she felt her arm clutched, and Aunt .lane said : "That's the door .lack went in b.\ that night ;" and she pointed a scraggy linger towards a door at the side of the house.

••Jack! What .Jack?" said Ursula, determined she would try to get her to talk, and discover how far her knowledge of the past anil present extended. A look of such cunning was foi one second visible in Aunt Jane's eyes that Ursula felt almost irightened. It was as though a blind that was habitually drawn over a window had been suddenly lifted, revealing ■ for an instant a well-fur-nished room where one had expected to find emptiness. "You think I know vour nephew?"

And Ursula wondered if Nettie had broken her promise and told Aunt Jane that she had seen him.

There was no answer, but the stocking was lifted, and the old woman began knitting, though hci fingers moved slowly, and as Ursula watched her she wondered how far the silent tongue hid an active brain. Then happening to look towards the house, she saw a tall, well-built man crossing the lawn. As he came nearer she noticed that he was handsome and looked to be about thirty-five. Suddenly Aunt Jane spoke, her voice a mere whisper :

'Don't trust him. He's bad

Before Ursula could reply the stranger joined them, and raising his straw hat, he said : "Aunt Jane, won't you introduce me to this young lady ?" As he spoke Ursula started. The voice was that of the man whom she had heard talking to a woman in the Priory park, the man. who counted on inheriting John L'Estrange's estate, and whom the woman had warned not to do so, and as Ursula thought of this she remembered his words to his companion, that Nettie had told Miss L'Estrange—Aunt Jane—that Miss Calthorp knew Jack, so that was how the old lady had known.^

It scarcely took a second for these thoughts to flash through her mind. Then she realised that Miss L'Estrangc had no intention of introducing them, as she kept her head bent over her knitting, though her fingers scarcely moved. "I sec Aunt Jane is not in an amiable mood, so I must introduce myself. Miss Calthorp. lam Horace L'Estrange. Possibly Nettie may have mentioned me ?" and Ursula thought there was curiosity in his voice.

"Yes ; she t.old me you lived here," she replied. "Probably she also told you I was not the master—only here protem."

"I the master was away." "Indeed ? Y r ou have been quick t'o learn the history of your neighhours," he said ; and there was a touch of sarcasm in his tone. "Mrs. Ellis, the housekeeper at the Grange, named it, and Mr. Scholes told me the Priory had a history," she .answered.

He did not speak, but looked at her intently, admiringly ; then as she raised her eyes and met his gaze he smiled.

"Will you let me show you the other part of the garden ? We have a very good rosary, and even now there are a few roses."

A mocking sound, half a laugh, half a grunt, came from the little 3ld lady, whose hands were now idle, while her eyes were fixed on the groundr An angry look came into the man's "face as he moved forward, and Ursula got up from her seat.

"You mustn't take any notice of what my aunt says or does. She is singular, and she hates me, though, in fact, I'm the nearest relation she has in the world. But she's always been queer."

"Are you a nearer relation than the Mr. L'Estrange who owns this place?" inquired Ursula. His face flushed. She saw that he did not like her reminder that he was not the real master of the place but his voice showed no signs of vexation as he said : "I am her nephew, and Jack L'Estrange is her great-nephew. My father was her half-brother. You'll probably hear that my grandmother's extravagance was the reason the Grange'had to be sold to the Calthorps. I daresay it's true. Anyway, my father had a propensity for spending, which no doubt he got from his mother. He was some years younger than Aunt Jane, Jack's father was the eldest of the family, and T don't think cither he or Aunt Jane looked-with favour on their half-brother. After his father's death he rarely came here, and I had only been once before I came, at my cousin's request, to manage the estate."

"I suppose yojLir father had something left him, as the elder son got the estate ?" said Ursula,, wondering if the wish to oust. Jack L'Estrange out of his inheritance had its origin in unfair dealing.

"My father got ten thousand pounds. It wasn't bad for a younger son. I only mentioned that neither niv father ' nor I was regarded with favour by Aunt Jane as I don't want her to prejudice you against me. By the way, you are strikingly like tho Countess of Hellilield," he said. "So I have been told, and I regret it," Ursula answered, curtly. At that moment they heard the luncheon bell, and her companion suggested they should turn their steps In the direction of the house.

"I'm sorry I. was detained so long," Nettie observeel as they entered the dining-room. 'During the meal, which was rat her silent, in spite of Horace L'Hsli'angc's attempts to be sociable, Ursula's thoughts travelled to Hie man who was the real master of the place. and she remembered his words that it might, be in her power to help him, and she vowed, if it was possible, she would clear his •innie. Them, a half fear that he might be dead, lying under the sea, :aused a shadow LO darken her face.

But the doubt only lasted a moment. The man who had got safely away from I'ai'tnioor would live to see his innocence proved, she told herself.

When they left the. (lining-room Horace L" Estrange followed th" ladies to the drawing-rootr,. talking to Ursula, until .Nettie suggested they should go into the garden. But it was no good. He had evidently made up It is mind to have her to himself, and poor Nettie found she had no opportunity of speaking to her new friend, as he kept close to Ursula while they sauntered up and down the garden, and both girls were truly thankful when the teatable was brought out.

Soon alter a foounan came to fell Horace I/F.stran.ge that Farmer Gobhs wished to see him. and with a look of annoyance on his handsome face he. rose.

"You won't he going just yet, Miss Calthorp ?" he said.

"I don't know. T expert the carriage will be here before long.'' "lie's spoiled our afternoon. I wanted to arrange about our work. We cannot prove Jack's innocence in a haphazard fashion. How do yot think we should begin ?" said Nettic, speaking- in a low tone, as she did not wish her aunt to hear. "We must find a clue to the murderer. Ahe.lherc is the carriage ! 1 must go. uncle doesn't like the horses' kept standing,"said Ursula, who wanted to get away before Horace [/Estrange returned. Turning to Miss L'Estrange, she held out her hand, saying good-bye. For an instant the old woman touched it. then, without speaking, she turned her head away, and very soon Ursula was driving down the avenue, thinking there were some veiv funny people at Mythemroyd Hall.

On arriving at home she was met in the hall bv the butler, who handed her a letter ; and Ursula smiled, recognising in the "big capital letters in which the address was written the work of Silas, and she laughed softly a s she thought if the letter was a s amusing as his conversation, it would be well worth reading. Running upstairs she entered her boudoir, and throwing herself on the couch, she broke the .seal. "Dear old man, he's afraid all the world will want to read his letter !" she thought. "I'hen as she drew a large sheet of ruled exercise-paper out. a closely-written letter dropped on to the floor, and as Ursula picked it up she read the words, "Thank God,' she believed in my innocence !" . Ah, who was the writer ? And she took up Silas's letter, knowing it would explain, the other.

CHAPTER XII. * A MATTER OF MOMENT.

The letter began : "Dear Missio,— I'm certain sure you'll not be offended, at old Silas writing to you, particular seeing he's had a letter he would like you Loi read. It's from one John Smith : vou'll mind him. 1 stood his friend once, and you took a hinterest in him. I told you as John- Smith had sailed in the Ocean Queen that was lost at sea and not a soid saved : that was what the papers said, but them papers are lying things. I reckon the editors, who stand sponsors' for 'em, will have to give a long account at the Day of Judgment ; but maybe they'll say as the vicar did when his littJe boy declared he'd seen old Joshua, the gardner, eating rats in the garden. He said the child wasn't telling a lie ; it was a vivid imagination, and that's what the papers, or them as is responsible for them, have got. How far the Almighty reckons it iying we've got to sec. Anyway, .hem papers lied about John Smith. When all the others went down the Lord kept a tight hold of him, and now he's on dry land. Maybe when vou've read the letter you'll burn it. 1 think it would be the best thing to do with it ; they say dead men tell no tales, and I'm sure the best thing to do with it ; they ashes don't. I often think of you, dear missie. There isn't one about the place but what misses you ; but I allays knew you'd come in the far bacii from letter thirngs, and would, go on to them. The master and missis try to look spry, but the loss of you has hit 'em hard ; not but what it was right you should go to your own place, as Judas did to his, of course,'-allowing for the difference. Now, missie, I'd like a line to say you got this and John Smith's letter safely.—Your obedient servant, "Silas Lawson." Tn spite of the. desire so get through it quickly, Ursula smiled frequently as she read the letter; then she unfolded the enclosure, which was written on foreign notepaper, and began : (To be Continued).