TRACKED BY FATE, OR THE FANSHAWES OF HAVILLANDS.

King Country Chronicle, Volume IV, Issue 241, 12 March 1910, Page 4

TRACKED BY FATE, OR THE FANSHAWES OF HAVILLANDS.

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"BY MAURICE SCOTT, . Author of "The Pride of the Morays," ; "The Mark of the Broad Arrow,""Broken Bonds," etc. etc.

EIGHTH I X STALMENT. " Silly child ! There's no end oi fun in store for yon, Ma'a'selle Dorothee of the serious eyes. A big country house, a real ghost, a park, a forest —everything romantic that ordinary girls adore. Even the lovei is not lacking." Going away from London, leaving her friends—truest of friends, indeed —without a word ! " Oh, hut please, I must not go without seeing Ju and Maggie," she exclaimed earnestlj. " Just one short interview otherwise they would think me so ungrateful " " I can't help that, my dear. Mr. Fanshawe only made up his mind to go last night, and I dare not question his arrangements. And if you knew him as I do, you'll not risk a scene by unavailing argument. Besides, you heard what he said. We are only leaving town for a few days. —There, how do you like that ? " Poor Dorothy was but human, and feminine griefs are often dulled, if not obliterated by a timely distraction in the form of Dame Fashion's " latest."

And truly the handsomely-braided, fur-lined Redfern coat with its deep collar and cuffs of Persian lamb, would have healed disappointment had not such a weight of anxiety tugged at her heart-strings. But how, in the face of such kind thoughts for her comfort, could she persist in making a " scene " ? And, after all, she had written to her partners—her letters would assure them of her unchanged gratitude—and she would return to London in a few days. Then came what seemed an interminable journey, through alternating jog, mist and blinding rain, until Dorothy wondered how people managed to exist in such a climate. A stranger to the country, she had no idea whither she was being conveyed, and the presence of Mr. Fanshawe forbade any curiosity on her part. And . the exclusion of the reserved compartment in which they travelled in no way tended to enlighten her. Oh, how she longed to exchange it for the open, corridor trains of the Canadian Pacific line, where the chatter of fellow-travellers might have furnished the information. Mr. Fanshawe was courteous and attentive to women and Clarence, in his father's presence, more than us ually well-behaved.

And'then the train stopped in the open and they got out to find the countryside—where the darkness permitted eyes to penetrate—under a coverlet of spotless snow, and snow still falling heavily. Then, a blurred, indistinct impression of footmen and railway officials bowing and deferential, of being hurried into a roomy carriage with Mrs. Fanshawe, her husband, and son, and then of a long, long drive—of hours it would seem—with their breath perceptibly freezing on the carriage window, and the snow still falling heavily and tapping softly against the glass. And then, numbed, chilled through and through, in spite of Redfern coat and travelling-rugs, Dorothy's weariness got the better of her, and, sinking down into the corner of the carriage she sank into a semi-conscious doze.

And she dreamed of being in an omnibus travelling from Rutland. Gate towardes Shaftesbury-avenue, en route for Brick-street, and in her dream the omnibus in crossing Piccadilly Circus, got entangled with another vehicle, , and turned over on its side, and still in her dream she felt a sharp pain in her shoulder, and then the scene changed. . For now she was being carried, like a baby, high up in strong armsarms which held her with an amount of strength and. gentleness she could scarcely have believed possible. And she felt so so contentad, she wished she could go through life supported by such a soothing sense of safe-keeping, And she seemed reclining on a broad, solid breast; too, and could feel a vigorous heart palpitating against her own. Was she really dreaming or— Lights flashed into her eyes, voices sounded it her ears, and then she crimsoned to find herself being gently deposited in an easy-chair before a blazing fire. " You are none the worse for your tumble, are you, Dorothy ? " That was Mrs, ganshawe's vpiee, but Dorothy's eyes"'were riveted on a tall broad-shouldered man, whose eloquent brown eyes were looking into her owq and whose firm . hands now-busied themselves removing her coat, as a faint cry, on attempting to move her shoulder, disclosed the seat of pain. " Nothing serious, I am sure," he said—" requiring only a bandage and a good night's rest. Fortune has been kind to you in more ways than one, Mr. Fanshawe. Even had the jade willed , that all your bones should bg broken Bhe condoned the offence by upsetting you at a dogr tor's door. "I am very glad to see you, Trever dyn." Oorottjy could not help thinking Mr. Fanshawe looked .anything but glad. Mrs. Fanshawe shaken only, seemed extremely nervous as Celestine removed her wraps, and Clar-: ence pulled his moustache in evident annoyance. Fpr herself, the pain in her shqulr der became exquisite pleasure while those strong sunburnt fingers deftly manipulated a bandage and the hand?

iome head with its crisp brown hair ".ame so closely in contact with her jv;n. She wished the bandaging :ouid go on indefinitely. "There," he said at last, "now I that will do. And may I beg v formal introduction to my patent ? '•' • ■ ■■--■. "Dorothy,"' said Mrs. Fanshawe, •'it is Dr. Ernest Trevedyn who has been so kind as to pull you out of a snowdrift and carry you to Havil'ands. Dr. Trevedyn, Mademoiselle Dorothy is—is " "My ward," interrupted Mr. Fanshawe, " and shortly to become the wife of my son." And Dorothy rendered dumb with horror and amazement saw the bronzed face of Ernest Trevedyn turn pale in the firelight as he bowed low before her.

CHAPTER VIII. YOU DON'T KNOW ERNEST TREVEDYN ! " " Phew ! " Clarence Fanshawe stood facing his father in the superb old oak-panelled library for which Havillands had been famed for generations throughout the countryside. Dr. Trevedyn, declining a pressing invitation to iinner, had trudged home through tlie snow, and the ladies had gone to their rooms and were not expected to rejoin the men that night after the fatigue of so long a ;'ou'rn"ey with =o disastrous a termination.

• " You've clone it, gov'rior ! " was the. remark following on the whistle. " I had to do it ! " was the elder man's angry reply. "The fates seem to conspire against me and drive me on to .■•: ;edients I would, otherwise, Ijrefcrablj avoid. Who would have ixpectcd to find old Dr. Calvert retired and that infernal Trevedyn settled in his place ? That's the result of your folly in bringing him here in your college days ? " "It may be—probably is," grumbled Clarence. " But how could 1 foresee that ? He looked a bit sicli when you introduced Dorothy as my future, wife, too. By Jove, that was a bold stroke, dad ! I shook for a minute, wondering if she'd contradict you." " She dared not," said Fanshawe, contemptuously. " She has hci father's temperament—readily overpowered by a stronger will." " All the same I don't believe she will marry me." " Have you asked her ? " "N-o, not exactly ; but she won't stand the least bit of fooling, the sort of thing most girls like. And, you know, dad, I'm not at all sure I care to be married—tied up for life. At my age a chap likes to run loose for a while."

" Fool ! Idiot ! Do you realize that this girl is the legal mistress of Havillands, and of all the wealth which contributes to your enjoyment, and which you expect to inherit ? It would take some officious meddler but comparatively little trouble tc hunt out her connection with tfcfFanshawes, did some kind frienl who loves me not but remark her very striking resemblance to my halfbrother. Whereas, married to you, it would matter little should her identity be disclosed. The estates would be practically yours all the same. A little weak chit like that could be induced to sign anything." " I wonder if you're correct in regarding her as such a nonentity ? " observed Clarence, reflective 1 -:. "Gad! She flew at me with a spice of the devil blazing out of her eyes up in town."

"So much the better for you. A man easily tires of a too acquiescent wife. He aims towards conquest, but appreciates a good fight. But now, my boy, you must follow my lead, and take up the position firmly. I don't anticipate much opposition from pretty Dorothy, but your mother may take some convincing," And this opinion was strengthened by a message brought by Celestine that madame would be glad to see m'sieu in her boudoir as soon as convenient to m'sieu. He found her greatly agitated. " I fear you are ill," he said, in seeming anxiety, at which his wife chafed with impatience. " That overturning of the carriage was most unfortunate, and must have shaken you more than you imagined." "It did not," she cried. " And had it broken my neck you would but have rejoiced. I am ill in mind, not, in body, and you know it- Why have you done this thing ? How could you dare tell Dr. Trevedyn " "The truth. You, who so often crave for 'truth,' do you now deprecate it ? The girl is my ward even if I am but a self-appointed guardian and I intend she shall marry my son."

" But she dislikes Clarence." " You disliked me ; at .least, you were so impolite as to tell me so. Yet 50U became my wife." " Would you condemn her to my Loveless existence?" moaned the \yo-. man. " j could kill her," be almost hissed—" strangle the breath from out her white throat, if only in continua* tion of my revenge on the unappreciatiye idol on whom your life's adoration has been thrown away 1 Have I nothing to complain of that you never loved me ? " "No, because you knew my heart was given to Gilbert, and you won me by appealing to my wounded pridg, Lemuel, that child answered me yesterday in Gilbert's very words 1 Love comes- at Lrst, or not at all.' And if I am in the least gifted with a woman's penetration, I read a. mutual attraction to-night in htii 1 eyes and those of young Trevedyn-" " Did you indeed ? Can your woman's penetration predict what will become of us had I not taken the bull by the horns ? Dr. Trevedyn appeared very interested in Havillands some years ago. It might strike him now in the light of a desirable pqs, session, once he got an inkling of the girl's identity. Florence, are _you_ji

mad woman ? Do you suppose I took such an extreme step to-night without counting the cost ? " " Perhaps not : but is it not enough to have wronged Gilbert without wronging his child ? " " Where is the wrong ? I find her singing in the streets—a vagabond amongst vagabonds. I bring her to her rightful home, confer upon her the wealth that should be hers, plus a husband. And that husband your own son ! Were the facts known, I doubt if I should he severely censured." " But she does not love Clarence, and the absence of love will render that girl wretched, Lemuel." " That cannot be helped. She must marry him." *' I doubt if she will consent." " Florence," exclaimed the man, his dark face livid with anger. " I am in no mood for quibbling. I have been for some time in possession of Havillands, and I swear I will not give it up. I am not anxious to add more offences to my score, but I 3wear I will not be thwarted by that girl, even if I am driven to encompass her death to retain that which I hold." " Lemuel, for mercy's sake "

' Pshaw ! What mercy was ever shown me ? And, remember, in my blood runs an admixture of the race whose 'hand is against every man's.' Listen ! When I learned that only at the point of the knife was my father forced to render me legally his son, I swore that I would avenge my mother's wrongs by wresting from my paler-blooded, white-handed elder brother his estates and the woman who loved him, and whom at that time I thought he loved. By what means I have succeeded is best known to myself and to myself alone. But do not imagine that anything you can urge will move me one jot in my determination." " He means it," moaned Mrs. Fanshawe. "He would kill her without mercy. He swore it was not Gilbert who came to Havillands ; but does Gilbert's death lie at his door ? Heaven forbid ! But I have seen more deeply into his soul to-night than in all the years I have been his wretched wife."

" Ma'm'selle Dorothee would be glad to see madarae if madame would be so good," said Celestine, interrupting her reflections. " And, ma foi, mais Ma'a'sclle Dorothee, elle est malade. Oui, madame ! " Dorothy, in a large canopied bed, her face flushed, rivalling the hue of the crimson silken counterpane, embroidered with the Fanshawe arms, under which she lay, was tossing restlessly from side to side, her great eyes staring and looking bigger than ever seen by the light of a fire on which huge logs roared and crackled merrily. Mrs. Fanshawe stopped an instant outside the door, and tried to recover her self-possession. There were times when she ached to clasp the girl to her heart—for in spite of the opinion of her friends, she had one; — to pour out her old love for Gilbert on Gilbert's child, to atone to him for the wrongs she feared he had suffered at her husband's hands by acting a mother's part to his daughter.

But she dared not give way ; her djead of the man she called husband was too deeply centred. And, at least, she owed duty to the son she had borne ! " Come, come, Ma'm'selle Dorothee ! " she said, in a jesting voice, having adopted Celestine's utterance of the girl's name as one well fitting Dorothy's " touch of Old France," acquired in Quebec. " Why are you not asleep after such a journey and such a tumble ? " " Don't jest with me, I entreat of you," implored the girl. " Tell me the truth. He did not mean what he said ? " *' What who % said, dear child ? " How was she to tell her what Lemuel had sworn ? " Mr. Fansbawe. How could he say it ? It is not true. Mr. Clarence has not asked me—you believe I am speaking the truth, do you not ? and if he did I could not accept him for I do not love him. You will tell him that, will you not—both Mr. Clarence and Mr. Fanshawe ? And when they hear it they will not insist. You think that, don't you ? " Here was a dilemma. The child was half-delirious, panic-stricken at the bare idea of what her husband vowed to accomplish. In her tossing about the bed she had displaced the bandage from her shoulder, and now cried out.with pain when either Mrs. Fanshawe or Celestine endeavoured to restore it. And her eyes were bright and wild and under her distressed mental condition her whole appearance evidenced a state bordering closely on fever. To soothe her appeared beyond Mrs. Fanshawe's powers, though that Lady tried to soften the possibilities follqwing on her husband's assertion. At length, seeing Dorothy rapidly growing worse, she left her in Celestine's charge and went in search of the master of Havillands. (To be Continued.)