TRACKED BY FATE, OR THE FANSHAWES OF HAVILLANDS.

King Country Chronicle, Volume IV, Issue 244, 23 March 1910, Page 4

TRACKED BY FATE, OR THE FANSHAWES OF HAVILLANDS.

(All Rights Reserved.)

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

ELEVENTH. INSTALMENT. Yes ; but she felt lonely—so lonely. The faces around her were strange, and she was tired—so tired and weak. She must have come a long journey. Oli, how she wanted her mother's arms around her ! And though it was selfish to wish them dead she would have so loved to see Maggie and Ju. And then her eyes looked on a face, at the sight of which she felt no longer lonely. A stranger, too—jet not strange. She seemed to remember the finely-chiselled, intellectual features, the bold erect bearing, the expressive brown eyes, out of which now beamed a variety of expressions —gratitude to a Supreme Power, joy, sympathy, and something else. What was it ? And then her fragile, wasted form quivered with a delicious sensation of reliance and dependence as strong arms lifted her very tenderly and firm hands held a draught to her lips. Was it an elixir of life ? Truly it would seem so, as again when laid gently back on her pillows she felt the blood once more tingling through her veins, and presently saw she was in bed —such a big bed —■ with Mrs. Fanshawe smiling down at her through—yes, through tears. Then she had not died ? She felt almost sorry. Must she face the trouble all over again ? " Have I been ill ? " she asked. " Yes, Dorothy dear ; but now you mustn't talk. Here is Dr. Trevedyn waiting to turn me out of the room bj the shoulders, J. can see." " Dr.Trev " " Ssh ! " The 4oice was authoritative, yet how sweet in her ears ! " You have indeed been very ill, Miss Dorothy," it said ; " and now I trust to your honour to keep very still and quiet until I give you permission to ask questions. Will you repay my confidence ? " Two pairs of ej-es met and lingered ere they parted, and then Dorothy whispered faintly, yet firmly : " Yes." " They love each other," was Mrs. Fanshawe's mental comment. "Heaven help us, what will be the end of it all ? " CHAPTER XI. DARK THREATS. " Lemuel, I beg-of you, do not add this crime to " " Crime ? " Mr. Fanshawe's dark face looked unusually pale, and his eyes bore an evil light. "It is a crime to separate two young lovers to all appearances created for each other. Clarence would never make her happy, and is unfitted to assume the responsibility of marriage " " Yes, inasmuch as he has inherited a share of his mother's weak, vacillating nature. Pshaw ! Can you think me such an idiot as to risk the loss of everything I possess merely for the reason that you suspect an attachment between this officious country doctor and his patient ? Ten thuosand curses on the ill-luck that drifted him hither ! Under old Calvert's treatment the girl would have died—in all probability," " Had Dr. Calvert been concerned, you would not have felt called upon to announce Dorothy's enangement to Clarence so prematurely," rejoined his wife. " Perhaps not ; but having announced it I am resolved to carry it out to the letter. It is the only way. I have thought out the problem in every conceivable light, and there is no other way to secure the estates to me and mine—short of mur« der." Mrs. Fanshawe shuddered. " Lemuel, you would not " " I would not —could I avoid the necessity, J grant that, Should the necessity arise I shall not shirk it. But it will not arise unless you thwart me, Florence ; and then whatever happens will lie at 3 our door." " Mine ? " " Yours. With your assistance the young people can be married in the spring. Clarence isn't exactly a brute, any more than I have been a brute to you. The girL will have as good a chance of living happily as most women," "Yes, had love never come her way," answered Mrs. Fanshawe, bitterly ; "but here is a wealth of devotion at her door kindling the lovelight in her own beautiful eyes. The man is too honourable to speak while he believes her word pledged tc another, but any day a chance may enlighten him as to the true state of pffairs." '' That phanee Rever come," broke in her husband, vehemently " In that you must aid me or the consequences may render your future life more unhappy than you choose to consider the past." The woman whose young love had been given to Gilbert Fanshawe could only wring her bands and silently submit to the .domination of the fierce, untamed nature underlying Lemuel Fanshawe's polished exterior. Memory carried her back to the time when, heartsore and humiliated at the knowledge Gilbert had forsaken his native country rather than submit to bis father's arbitary, decision he should marry " the beautiful Miss Arnold," she had listened to Lemuel's passionate protestations in the full knowledge she did not love the man to whom she plighted her-

self. But she would be mistress oi Havillands —a consummation devoutly to be wished, had Gilbert's love gone with Gilbert's lands. Her sin had brought with it its own punishment. She had married Havillands, looking upon Lemuel as an incubus necessarily to be endured. But he had quickly undeceived her on that point. He was her master, inflexible and unyielding. All the external comfort mere money could purchase was hers, but love and happiness, rich gems no gold can procure, were unknown in her life. She lived in a gilded cage, with a keeper who enforced obedience, and oftentimes had the dread crossed her mind that the wealth for which she had sold herself had not been honestly acquired. And then came Dorothj. And now she knew her husband well enough to believe his threats should the woman who loved Gilbert refuse to aid the gipsy's son in defrauding Gilbert's child. And what of Gilbert himself ? Lemuel had procured apparently convincing proofs of his death in Australia ; but Dorothy's story of her father's journey to England and his mysterious disappearance coupled with the village gossip set on foot by Granny Bowes and supplemented by the assertions of the man who same once to Havillands, but who was seen no more—all this taken in conjunction with Lemuel's dark threats of what he was prepared to do, rather than resign the estate, filled, the unhappy wife with a vague sense of terror. And now she was to be forced into a more active participation in his schemes than had hitherto been her lot ! Heaven help her and Dorothy, too, for out of her own blighted affections and loveless life were beginning to arise the germs of a sympathetic affection for the girl, also apparently doomed to be broken upon the wheel of a strong man's will ! But in dread apprehension of even worse consequences did she attempt to defy his commands, Mrs. Fanshawe now became Dorothy's shadow —a veritable gaoler, if a kind one. Whatever Ernest Trevedyn had occasion to say to his lovely patient had to be spoken in her presence, though eyes often said more than lips. More than once did the young doctor question the good taste of taking her into his confidence, confessing his love, and appealing to her as a woman, to save Dorothy in the event of the marriage with Clarence being forced upon her. But there arose the question of expediency. They were never alone, and he was so tender of his darling's susceptibilities. For in his mind she was " his darling " —and his alone ! Such a fragile blossom, too, that almost a breath would blow away ! He dared not risk hurting her by debating such a question in her hearing. But if he read her eyes aright she had no love to bestow on that drunken cub, who, since he had made intimate acquaintance with the weight of Trevedyn's fist in Heavitree coverts, had kept at a respectful distance from his former schoolfellow. For as Dorothy progressed towards . the convalescent stage, and then beyond it, his visits of necessity became less frequent, thGUgh his heart beat wildly to see how her face lit up at his coming, how anxiously her eyes followed him as he bade her " good-bye " —Mrs. Faushawe always on guard. The snow had vanished, and leaves were sprouting before Dorothy began to feel or even to look her old self again. By that time a mild epidemic had broken out in the village which kept Dr. Trevedyn practically occupied night and day. And as his visits to Havillands were no longer requisite, and the Fanshawes extended no invitation beyond his professional capacity, he had no alternative but to pronounce his patient out of his hands and discharge himself from further present attendance. And then Dorothy's self-possession broke down, and the eyes fast filling with tears, the look of blank dismay at the intelligence he would come no more, the quivering throb in ' the sweet voice that tried to thank him for all his care, made it hard for Ernest to refrain from gathering hep up in his strong arms, In spite of Mrs. Fanshawe's presence, and ing her off to Woodbine Cottage to b$ |iig own —his wife. Could he tell his love in the presence of the woman whose son had, presumably a prior claim ? The situation was without precedent, and he was puzzled how to act. But the marriage was not yet announced. He could but pray they might meet in the woods, in the forest, anywhere so that they coulcl pieet heart to heart, witli nothing save the truth between. " Get out. as much as possible when the weather is fine, Miss Dorothy," he said, at. parting. " The woods are very beautiful in spring, and the air will work wonders when once you begin to feel sufficiently strong to walk every day. And you may find much to interest you in and about the village." ' i! You—you will not come any more ? " " Unless you neglect my instructions and fall ill again, which sou must not do. In fact, I shall expect to meet you occasionally, investigating the surrounding neighbourhood and looking the picture of robust Good-bye." Would she understand ? If only she could escape Mrs. Fanshawe's espoinage, they might meet. Nothing more natural. Dorothy did understand, but foresaw she might not be permitted to walk out alone, any more than she had been permitted to see Dr. Trevedyn alone at Havillands. Since her recovery from the fever she had been living in a kind of Lqr tusland, existing from day to day, qij

the joy of anticipation in looking forward to the young doctor's next Pisit. A new world seemed to have opened out to her, and in that world she was content to dwell, looking neither to the past nor to the future. Ju, Maggie, Brick-street, all seemed to have been stepping-stones, on which she had climbed to heights of exaltation hitherto undreamed of. At first, in her weak state, she was content to dream, to rest in a strangely tranquil emotion of wellbeing impossible of explanation. And in her dreams, the strihing personality of Ernest Trevedyn figured first and last ; in her waking moments, to look into his face, throb under the touch of his strong yet gentle hands were happiness too great to bear analysis. But her senses had been quickened, her dormant faculties aroused to aewer life with increasing strength, and soon her pulses throbbed at his coming, and her heart told her she was a woman —and beloved ! And then awoke a sensation of terror at the remembrance of Mr. Fanshawe's announcement that she was iestined to marry his son. Even when Clarence persecuted her in London the idea of any such relationship would have been abborent ; now it was a sacrilege. But the lie — for it was one —had been told. Did Dr. Trevedyn believe it ? Would he, believing it, have looked at her with such deep feeling in his eyes ? Should she appeal to him for aidtor some means of escape from the threatened hated marriage ? No, no; to do so would seemed to be begging nis love. He might think her untnaidenly. She would wait —and nope. And in the deep joy of his constant coming she lulled her fears, only awakening to something like a sensation of panic on learning his attendance on her had finished ; she would see him no more. With difficultj she bore herself during the final visit, and then when his tall figure had disappeared down the avenue of oaks for which the front af Havillands was celebrated, her control gave way and Mrs. Fanshawe looked alarmed at the sudden torrent of emotion. " Let me say it now," cried Dorothy wildly—" now, that I have the sourage. Mrs. Fanshawe, I am more than grateful for all your goodness to me, but I cannot, dare not, marry your son ! Let me go away, back to Ju and Maggie—anywhere—anywhere rather than marry one whom I could never love ! "• Mrs. Fanshawe seemed scarcely less agitated than tne girl herself, yet what could she do ? Let her go away ? Would Dorothy ever be allowed to leave Havillands—other than as the wife of Clarence —alive ? Horrible suggestion ! Yet had not Lemuel threatened as much—more ? Had he not said that on her own soul would lie the responsibility for the deed ? And that meant the girl's life —the life of Gilbert's daughter, also the possibility of a felon's doom for the man whose name she bore, involving ruin and disgrace on her own son ! Terrible consequences indeed ! Yet the strain of lawless blood in Lemuel's veins dominating the gentler stream, counted no costs where a personal end was to be gained. But she—she through whose veins ran no lawless blood—could she face such eventualities for the sake of what might be called a sentiment ? No ; she lacked the courage. To pacify Dorothy, reconcile her to the inevitable, appeared the one and only course to pursue. " Think a little, Dorothy dear," she said. " Clarence is very fond of you—loves you, in fact " —her woman's heart reproached her for the lie, yet she was powerless— " and Mr. Fanshawe is anxious for Clarence to be settled in life. Even had your parents lived, the match could not have been considered a bad one for you, dear girl." " In point of wealth, no," replied Dorothy ; " but I do not love Clarence and marriage without love is a sin in the eyes of God and of man!" It was, it was. Did not the listener know that full well ? . " But, Dorothy, you are so young to talk so confidently of love," she faltered. " May you not learn to love Clarence in time ? " • " Never," replied the girl, very decidedly—" never ! If forced into marriage with him I might grow to hate him ! " The elder woman started. Here was a degree of unexpected intensity in this fragile form. " But Mr. Fanshawe cannot force me," continued Dorothy excitedly. " He has no right, no claim, except truly that he took me into his house out of charity. I suppose, perhaps, I should be grateful that he wishes to raise a vagrant, a street singer, to the honour of being the wife of his son, and " She stopped, and a look of horror came into her eyes—an expression rightly interpreted by Mrs. Fanshawe, (To be Continued.)