A SCARLET SIN.

King Country Chronicle, Volume III, Issue 166, 21 June 1909, Page 4

A SCARLET SIN.

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A roWKIJI-TL STORY.

By ALICE .ir..l < I-AI Pi; Ac«KEW, Authors of ' Th- "Jitf M o( the Pi«uii." &c. &c«

F.IIIHTII INSTALMENT. "I feel sorry for Mr. Pcrrint,' *h»» murmured slowly— "extmnclj sorry. "Ii sevtn* hard that peoph should have |<» suffer (or the sins © their fathers. Oh. isn't it terrible * —she glanced at I.iil«ly with a sigh—"to have to realize that thr trans gressions of Ihe parents art* a I inn* I Invariably visited upon their off spring'? It doesn't win just doe* it ? It doesn't seem right." Uddy shook her head.

"I*inna fash yersvl* about th< Lord's ways o* dealing wi* His |wopie." she muttered. "A" that puzxles us now will urn* day lie explained. nYarif. never doubt o" that." The old woman made her confev *ion of faith with a fine simplicity, o very beautiful and trustful Miiilt lighting up her shriveiled face. Pamela lw>wed her head meekly, at-tepting the other's unconscious reproof, then •.he faced Liddy with 0 sudden question. "Who was the girl whom Mr. Pernnt should have married." she asked—"the girl y«iu tell me I resembk in looks ? " "Hesemble? Ye mirht lie sisters !" returned Kiddy, very firmly. Then she went on to give Pamela the outlines of a sad and pathetic love ,»tory.

It n|>|«ariil that year* ago when IVrrint. then a Inn of aliotit twentytw» had fallen desperately in love with a girl he had m«>t up in Edinburgh— a pretty, delicate girl ol rtt»»nf eighteen, the daughter of an ■Mrjin.lv bigoted and Calvini&tica) IHMHster.

The girl, .lean by name, had returned young IVrrint"» affections, and the course »»f true love had gone .smoothly enough at lirM. .lean's -nopfe Ix-ing pleased at the prospect of h<-r marrying so wealthy a man a« Hob IVrrint : but when the true history of the young man's* parentage ««!i disclosed, the grim bigotry ol Jean"* lather moile him break ofl the marring*'. nofw ilhstanding it.s worldly advantage*.

"Xu lass «»' min>- shall ev.-r marry n nameless man." mi the dour man d«sr tared : and. despite his daughter'stears i*iid prnver.-.. lie Kept to his derision, nnd broke ofi the match.

Hob endeavoured to |>ersuade .Iron t.» run n«»y with him. but the girl was a lo%al daughter, and ir/u.vtl ; and then Hob. yielding to a .sudden lit of pqv-ion. went abroad, and lived the wild lift* for some years, returning at last to Sutherlandi-hire, an embittered and sullen man weary of the taste of the wine-cup. of guilty pleasure, regarding himself in the light of a so«'i«l Ishmael. His swmth'-art was ilead Always deli- »•«!••. .she hail caught n Imml cold one winter—a c«»bl which soon deVelo|vd into rapi'l ««»nsiimpiion—ami no one knew if Hob IVrrint mourned her losh or not. He maintained a -stern sileru-e on the subject—a silence no on- iiitr.-d to break. Hut for her own part, so l.lddy nv«>a«»|, with a w is.- shake of her head, she lielieved Jlob IVrrint mourned his In.vs Mill. ■'How sail—how very .sad '. " Poin-t-la sighed as the- story* came to an • nil. then looked at herself curiously and reflectively in a looking-glass which stood on the dres*ing-table. It was ►(range to think that ?.he re- >. lnl.lt ll the dead gtrl whom Hob IVrrint had loted ; and though shriVif int.-n.sely sorry for the mntt she !.»r>K<-«l to Im- out of Orgadak- Lodge. sj,.- rrali/r.l ih>- lawless nature of tli>- miuii. mntl felt ipiite certain that in- would »*• utterly unscrupulous In ht- dealings with men ami women. >h.- r.rogni/i *l thai he felt he owed n.> il>-l»t to s.H->ei» and so won reck- •.-•*,<. of what It- did n'nd said : and h-re she was shut up alone—or practically alone —wilh this man. :*h-- iro* afraid to move her father to »h" inn. aft-r what l-iddy had j.utd. yet horribly dismay-nI at the prospect of having to stay on at Orgadale I>odge ; but there was* no friend she could write to. no woman tri'■•ml she could l«eg to tome to her h-'»i« for "he isolated life the Mar-ii«vi>t«t-s bad led had been *lgain*l tin- of frieiidshi*-*. All at once a bright thought -truck Pamela. She would go downstairs and ask Hob IVrrint if he uonhl allow her to .send for Sarah. Surely the mon would see the olisolule n>*ces.sity of Pamela having som- sort of a chaperon, nnd if he had any manly feeling about him he would yield to the girl's request. ■'Now that my father is asleep." she whis|xi>rrd. turning to Litldy. "I think I will go downstairs ami try to find Mr. I'errint. for there is something I want to say to him.'' Liddy glanced up curiously. '•Ye'll find the maistcr in his Mudy. like enow." she answered- •• 'Tis the first door on the left as je enter the hall, dearje : or else he will Im- about tho farm tekiu' stock o" the lien**tie».'*

•■Thnnk.t."' murmured Pamela : thru fhr Maidenly kissed Liddy un hrr putk.-r»«l cheek. "You've very K" -i to nV\" she whispered—"very g-,..,| •• I.iddy *ii<iled.

I-ns>j •, ye'rr your faither's lUugbt.-r." she answered softly : she then lurried and made he* way back 10 <M-«»r««- Martindalo's bedroom, leaxing the communicating door a* jar. Pamela puwJed over Liddy s .speech as she ran downstairs ; for what special claim .should she have uihmi the old woman through the men, tact of her being Oeorge Martindale'a daughter. Then she made her quick way to the study and knocked timidly at the door. "Come in," shouted Rob Pcrrint. roughly. He had evidently not yet gone out. Pamela entered Uie room, her h«-art bating rather quickly, for >h.' dreaded the interview ahead. and h»T thoughts flew passionately > i Hrt-.il. Oh. if only her lover had ' ■- n with h«-r now—Basil, whom sh«? : i f n.ith»r write to. nor see till -•■... abo'it h-*r father hn<l K'-'H r--rr:r." ''n . i.'iiv uTi'ing at

hi; hut he sprang to his fe«_-f • h'-n he caught sight of Pntrifln. ikl fl>i-,h<-<| nil to his fnrehvad. s,. you've i-nnu' down to seek m.-. .>. ■ >••>»?" hi* n*ked. softening hi--•>'ij;h voice and smiling curiously ni I'.uuela. "Hell, you are as welcoim os flowers in May." shrank back dismayed Something in the burly giant's face and manner terrified her. * CHAPTER XII. THE GIt.WES OF THE LESLIES "Ib'una stand shakin' an* pale.' ♦aid Hob IVrrint. noticing how Pamela shrank back. "Speak out what* in your mind." He moved forward as he spoke, and smiled—a big. confident smile, which displayed his tierce white teeth Pamela gathered up her courag« in >Hiih hnnds and murmured her request, either that her father should lie moved to a little inn. for she hm) iletermino'd by now to disregard old t.iddy's warning—or else that sh« might send for Snrnh. who woulo help nurse the invalid, ami whose sfH-iety would Ik» a great help t«: Pamela h>-rseli'. » "I know how much we are in yotu debt." the girl adde«l timidly, "but vunr kindness to my father makes me feel you will not deny my request ." Hob IVrrint shook his shaggy red lieard.

"Your fail her in iit'guid hands, lassie."* he oltserved at last. "Auld l.iddy's n line nurse; besides there's •tioiiyli clatter o" women in Ihi house as it Is. However " —he pnu>fl anil np|i»;ired to Ik- thinking—"l will l»' giving yon an answer about thin a «•■•" bit later." he said ai last. "I'll see what can be done."

Pamela vniil»Hl gratefully, then ventured to suggest that fierhaps it would 1h» Iwtter if she could succeed in moving her father to the inn*, but h«T host .shook hi-s head. •• 'Twould Ih* the man's death." he said in loud, decided tones ; then oh the wound of carriage wheels was heard up the drive he turned to Pamela. "That's the doctor who will be coming now. an" he'll be tellin' you the .same—'twould mean your father's death to move him."

Hob Perrint's grim statement was confirmed a few minutes later hy the small, grey-haired man who was introduced to Pamela as Dr. Andrew M'Pherson.

The little doctor gave the girl a curt nod of the head, then proceeded to take silent stock of her. and while he did so. Pamela inipiin-d nervously if it would l»e possible to move her t'other to the inn. I»r. M'Pherson shook his head and continued ever>thing that Rob Pcrrint had said about the inadvisability of moving the patient and the great risk it would entailHe explained to Pamela with a certain blunt kindness that her father, though getting on as well as ■mild Ih' »\|H-tt.-d, was still in a very critical condition. Also that there was a chance of another attack uf pleurisy, and that if this occurred matter* might go hard for (icoi-gv Mart Indole. "An' he'll lie light-headed for some time." The old man nodded gravely «s he said the lust words and looked at Pamela rather critically. "You must l»e a brave lassie" he added, "and Ih» prepared to nurse \ii»ir fait her for immy a day yet. I I don't sfi. v ihut >e wouldna l>e able In imive him irom Mr. Perrint's at the end «' another week, for by that lime we'll ho|>e (hat the patient's bodily strength may lie restored to him. But a> to his mental condition that " "Oh. !>r. M'Pherson ! " Pamela interrupt.-i| the little man eagerly, her .-<..., bill of startled fear "Pun'i »on think my dear father will soon Ih? quite himself again '.* " she asked nervously. •'Won't his senses soon come back ? "

A i.-lliijr «f .\e.sslve helplessness rnme ov,-r I'auiela as she spoke. What would she do if her father's mental balanei- si ill remained unhinged ".' As far as money went she was well enough pro\i«led for. Hut how could she face alone the clays which might In; ahead—the days which she felt certain would In- full of menace- tu tho father she so passionately loved ?

"Your father has had a shock—that's the real truth of the matter" observed the doctor, "an* coming upon him as it did. just at a niollM'n' when he wasn't fit physically i.i *tor.it much emotion, the result has lieen what you see."

lie spread his hands out "llinnn fash yerself ower much," he went on. "for there is lust a chance thnl at any moment my patient may wake up calm and collected—his old self again : but I warn toil it's n very |>oor chance. An' now I think I'll go upstairs and have a look at Mr. Marlimlalc " Pr. M'l'herson bustled away followed closely by Pamela, and they .•nlcrvd the sick-room to find the patient sleeping calmly and quietly. Old Liddy was sitting by the bedside, •vetching George Martindule with an expression of extreme solicitude, and. as before. Pamela felt surprised and puzzled by the extr-aordinary alTec(ion which the old Scotch woman beitowetf upon the tnan who must be a stranger to her. After a keen glance at the invalid. Dr. M'Pherson turned to Pamela.

•'Your father is giving himself the best prescription any one eould give aim." ho muttered— "a guld sli-ep —"an" J'm wanting ypu to follow in bis footsteps. Co aud lie down on your bod a bit, lassie : you look as white as a snow drop, and after ye've had n good rest and some warm food, take a brisk walk." He smiled at Pamela kindly, and the girl felt that under the curt manner there was a warm heart. Also she felt more at ease npw that she realized that the doctor would be a frcquont visitor at Orgadalc Lodge. Her fears of Rob Perrint l>egan to wear off ; fears that she told herself were foolish and absurd.

She took the doctor's advice. 'A Scotch lassie was ready to help her off with her travelling things, but Pamela soon sent hoi' away. and. flinging herself down upon the large old-fashioned bed that had been allotted to her, was asleep in a few minutes. Hhe slept ior hours, worn out in uund and body. nn«l came down th«. otair.'. at !(i«t •.'. i' h ri.!--:<lfi'ablf af>- [,..»!).. f,, r (h.- h<>*. •■ir.'-ikinp iiif.il

I which she wn« summoned to share ! with Holi IVrrint Hob IVrrint said very little to his guest Ix-.vund pressing her to take more food. The man himself made huge meal, and sn'inul to be in the l>est of spirits, and before they had risen from the table he suggested taking Pamela out for a walk, reminding her that the doctor had advised such a proceeding. The girl concurred -with a smile. They walked down the long avenue of poplars, talking of indifferent matters, Pamela waxing enthusiastic over the fresh, beautiful air which blew in straight from the moors, and Hob IVrrint listening to her with a smile. When they had passed through the entrance gales he suggested a stroll •lown the road, and Pamela agreed. Her walk was doing her good and •>!»«• was not sorry tis gain some liilie Knowledge of the neighbourhood. Soon she began lo express her thanks and deep gratitude lo the pond Samaritan who had taken her fuiher in. but Hob Pcrrint suddenly turned on her with a rough laugh. ".Pinna thank me owermuch," he ••aid. eyeing Pamela sharply, a curious glint coming into his blue eyes.

"Yon must always try and remember with me ihnt I am a man who does naught for naught. l»o you think 1 am not being well paid to hae a draw lass like you this day instead of taking an aimless saunter by mysel' •» llf>ides you recall another."A look of intense melancholy came over his rough face as he Sbid the last words, and for a moment Pam•la felt intevi-ly sorry for him. for vhe Knew he was referring to the dead girl—the girl to whom she bore Mich a i-itriouA resembJnnce. Hut for nil tin- pity sne gave Hob IVrrint, she still felt an odd ami unaccountitble mistrust of the man. lie reminded her of some fierce, dangerous animal, who might purr one moment ami tear ami rend the next. His evident admiration for her filled her with vague alarm. "It is but a step further I'm wanting lo take ye. only so far as the kirk," said Hob IVrrint as he pointed lo a small grey stone church that headed the approach to the village—a quaint old-fashioned building set in the midst of a green graveyard. "Very well." murmured Pamela,

"we will walk as far as the church. Hut then, please—please—let me go back, for 1 am longing to be with my father." They walked on in silence for the next quarter of a mile, then Pamela exclaimed with admiration when thoy linn!ly entered the churchyard. It was such a |>eacvfiil spot, with its gnvn mounds and small headstones. "I am sure the dead must sleep iwaccfully here." she said. "Come over to this corner."

Hob Perrinl took her by the arm as he spoke, then led her to the left side of the churchyard and pointed out a number of graves to her.

Kach headstone bore the name of I>eslic—Margot Leslie. John Leslie, tJeorge Leslie. Jean Leslie, Andrew I>'.slie. Pamela murmured out some of the names, glancing at the varying ages and dates, then she turned to Rob Perrint, rather a puzzled expression creeping over her face. "Leslie ! " she murmured. "Every one buried in this corner of the

! churchyard seems to have been a i Leslie."

"You're richt," responded Ro Perrint : then he looked at her with a curious expression in his blue eyes. Pamela In-nt down and plucked a blade of grass. She felt ill at ease.

"f don't Know any Leslies. The name is quite unfamiliar to mc. Why do you show me these graves ? " "Strange." said Hob Permit, staring at her boldly, "for, after all. it is your kith and kin that lie buried hen*. That's your grandfather's grave that you're standing by now." He pointed as he spoke to one of the green mounds above which rose a headstone dedicated to the memory of a certain George Leslie and Mary, his wife. Pamela turned to Hob lVrrint with dilated eyes.

"What do you mean ? Oh. explain to me. What do you mean ? My name is not Leslie. Why. you know that my. father is George Martindale."

"George Martindule Leslie." repeated Hob l'errint, with slow and lielihtTato emphasis. "Look you, now Martindalc is a family name with the Leslies. You will find it on some of tho gravestones, just as you will find your father's full name in the registry of the births which the minister keeps over at the manse." "Hut I don't understand," repeated Pamela blankly. She pressed her hands to her eyes, feeling puzzled and confounded, yet aware that l'errint was certainly speaking the truth when he said that the name. Martindalc was carved on more than one of the Leslie headstones Hut what could it all possibly mean ? "Ay, ay." muttered Hob, with a shake of the head ; "I doubt not there's much you don't undetstand. 'Twas auld Liddy," he went on, "who made the discovery as to who your father really was." "Old Liddy ! " exclaimed Pamela. "What do you mean, Mr. Perrint ? " "Why. I mean this. I sent for auld Liddy in great haste to nurse your father, as, for all her years, she is the best nurse in the village ; an' when auld Liddy. was changing her patient's linen, she came across a mark on his shoulder that set her screaming and clacking. It appeared that she had recognized the sick man as one qf the children she'd helped to bring into the world years back ; a lad she had afterwards become nurse to, one who, according to her story, wus deal - to her as her ain flesh and blood. If you want to hear about your father, and as much of his history as can be traced, you'd better question auld Liddy when «,_• get back, though it's n queer story, I warn you, sdic'il bo telling yc—a strange stpry.""Yes," murmured Pamela. She said the word: faintly and brokenly. Then a trembling came over her and for a second she was constrained to cling to her companion's arm. "Lassie, ye're overwrought an' startled, an' I don't wuml>-r. I doubt not but I've just i>een t v l!ine yvi what has come upon ye like a .shoek, but, all the same, it':-; l."-'.'"r i"\- \■, to realize th«- truth aK,-;' •.hint's than to be lei' £i>i;.ii.e in the 'ia.rk,'-« To b'- C-.n 4 ;::^ed,