Time, The Avenger

King Country Chronicle, Volume VI, Issue 419, 2 December 1911, Page 2

Time, The Avenger

(Ail Rights Reserved.)

By HEDLEY RICHARDS, Author of "The Plaighs of Hillcrest," "From Mill to "Diana's Inheritance," Etc., Etc.

THE UNRAVELLING OF A STRANGE WILL MYSTERY.

TWENTY-NINTH INSTALMENT " I'm off to London to-morrow," he said, as he took the cup from his sister. " You'll find there isn't a soul in town," said Lord Ovingham. " All the same, I shall enjoy myself." " What about the shooting ? " askjd Gar Hatton. " I'm not particularly keen about it. The governor might be putting a little shot into me by mistake. By Jove, when a crack shot hits a fellow instead of a bird, it's a risky business ! " said Hugh, with a laugh. " Hugh, Hugh, don't talk that waj. It's unkind seeing what father must have suffered," said Nina. Ten minutes later Lord Ovingnhm and Gar took their departure, calling at the Hollies on their way aome for the latest news of Mr. Dalrymple's health. Shortly after dinner that evening Hugh Hudspith left the house. He had thrown a light overcoat over his Iress-suit, and smoking a cigar he walked leisurely down the avenue and through the gates into the lane, then he turned in the direction of the Gelder Inn ; but he had not gone far when he paused in front of Gertie Hayes, who was seated on a grassy bank at the side of the lane.

" Why the deuce did you write asking me to meet you here tonight ? " he said angrily. " Oh, Hugh, don't be vexed with me for writing ; but you never go to our old meeting-place in the wood, or anywhere that I ca.n see you, and I have something I must say."

"You're a fool to expect to meet me in the wood or anywhere else. I am tired to death of you," he said, in a harsh voice, and his face looked dark and forbidding. " You told me you could never tire of me —that you would love me as long as you lived, and now —— Oh, my God, that you should talk to me like this ! " and she burst into a flood of tears.

" You little fool, stop that ! Perhaps if you hadn't cried so much I

should have been truer," he said, savagely.

She raised her head and looked at him beseechingly with her lovelj blue eyes. " I won't cry—l'll do anything you wish if you'll keep your promise." " What promise ? " he said, carelessly, though he Knew- very well to what she alluded.

" Hugh, you haven't forgotten you promised to marry me ! Oh, don't say you're going to break your word ! " she said, in a piteous tone, and looking up at him with a world of appeal in her eyes. He laughed lightly. He felt as if he almost hated the girl for reminding him that he had once cared for her. It seemed as though it was wronging Louise—bright, dazzling Louise —to have cared ever so little for any one else, and that other a weeping, pitiful girl without an ounce of spirit. " Such promises are lightly made. Of course, you knew well enough that I never intended marrying you." "Do you mean that you lied to me—that it was nothing but empty talk ? " she said, in a heart-broken tone.

" That's just what it was—empty talk —and you knew it, though it suits you now to pretend that you thought I was going to marry you," he answered, roughly. "As there is a God above I believed you. Oh, Hugh, say that you are joking, and that j-ou mean to marry me. Do you know how much it means to me ? "

" It means, if I kept the promise I was foolish enough to make, that you would be lifted out of your sphere, as mistress of Gelder Hall and long to get back to the old inn. No, Gertie, you'll be happier as the wife of some hard-working young fel low than as mine, even if I was fool enough to think of marrying you." She drew nearer to him, and laid her hand on his arm as she said, in

a low, strained voice : " You don't lo"° me, Hugh—l can see that plain enough ; and if there was only myself to think of I'd not say a word, but try and bide quietly till I died. But there's the child, and if you'll only marry me for its sake I'll bear anything, c.nd I will try not to disgrace you with my manners. I've lived in terror of granny suspecting. That's why I asked you to meet me. You promised last time I saw you that you'd make it right in a bit, and I thought if I told you I was going in terror lest granny should find out, you'd keep your word. And now "

Here the girl burst into tears. " And now I've told you the truth —that I shall never marry you. Of course, I'll not act meanly. I'll send you notes to the value of a hundred pounds, and that will cce you over jour trouble." "If you send me any money I'll take it to your rather and tell him how you've deceived me," she said, with a flash of spirit. " Then I won't send it. And as we've said all there is to say, I may as well go back. I'm going to London in the morning by the early train."

"Oh, Hugh, have you thought •what you are leaving me to face ? I can never hold ut> my head again. If

you'd we 1 m<-. and gi"o t'.c c-V'r! a name I'd never trouble j on again?" she said, lifting her lovely blue eyes, which were swimming with tears to his face.

" Wed you—a baby-faced chit ! I hate the sight of you," he answered,

angrily. " Oh, my God ! " she said, and, turning from him she went swiftly down the lane, while he went back, feeling strangely uncomfortable as he thought of the look of agony he had seen in her face when he left her, and for a minute or two he felt inclined to follow her and try to soothe her. Then he told himself that would never do. She would think he had changed his mind ; and, after all, it was better she should know the truth. Meanwhile Gertie had reached the inn, and gone at once to her own room. Flinging herself on her knees by the bedside, she wept bitterly. She had loved Hugh with her whole heart, and she had believed his promise to marry her. She knew the marriage might have been kept secret for some time, but she would have been satisfied to wait until he saw fit to make the fact public. But now it was all over, she knew that Hugh did not love her—nay. that he never could have loved her, or he would not have treated her so lyHow was she to tell her grandmother all ? She knew that she was aware they met in the woods, but she believed that her granny had hoped Hugh would marry her ; but would she forgive her all there was to forgive ? And poor Gertie wept piteously. The longer she thought the more impossible it seemed to face her grandmother and the cruel world. " No ; I would rather trust myself with God than with my fellowcreatures. He will be more merciful than they," she thought. At that moment there was a tap on the door and Sally told her that supper was ready. " Tell granny I've got a headache, and I'm not coming down," she replied ; then she sat down by the window and looked out at the wood, which had been like Paradise to her.

Time passed on, and she heard Mr. Jones, their lodger, come up stairs, then Sally, and finally, her grandmother. Then Gertie lighted a candle and taking a sheet of paper, she wrote in pencil :

" Dear Granny,—l'm going to drown myself. I cannot face the disgrace. Hugh Hudspith promised to marry me, but he says he never meant it —that he hates me—so I'm going out of the world ; and I hope God will forgive me this, and all the rest. Dear Granny, I never meant to disgrace you. I believed all he said, but I can see now that I have been very wicked. — Your loving " GERTIE." Placing the letter in an envelope, she wrote on the back, " For Granny,".then put it on the pillow, where it would be sure to be seen when Sally came upstairs to asiv why she was so late. " Where would she be then ? " Gertie wondered.

A few minutes later she wrapped herself in a dark waterproof cloak, drawing her hood over her head and crept downstairs, patting the little terrier to keep him from barking ; and opening the kitchen window she stepped into the garden, gently shutting the window after her. As she did so the clock in the kitchen struck twelve. Gertie went quietly round the end of the house, then paused looking towards the wood. She had thought of ending her misery in Dead Man's Pool,' but she shrank from going into the wood, where she had spent so many happy days, and shivered as she thought of the weird pool. Suddenly it flashed across her that the river was broader and deeper at the other side of Wittonbury ; near to Wittonbury old church it was deep enough to drown a man, ?. et it was a Dleasant stream. She had sometimes s;one to gather mushrooms in the fields on its banks, and it seemed a pleasanter place to rest in than that deep, black pool in the woods. These reflections decided her and she set off along the Gelder road into Wittonbury. CHAPTER XXXI. SAVED. Madame was very restless ; she had been restless all day, and had been glad that customers kept her busy, but when the shop was closed she had time to think of her late patient, and wonder if he had missed her. So deeply was she absorbed in thought that she did not go out, but let her mind travel at will over the past, md when supper was over and Mary had gone to bed, she still remained absorbed in thought. Presently the chiming of the little clock on the mantlepiece roused her. "Half-past twelve, and I don't feel as though I could close my eyes," she thought ; then she went to the window, and drawing back the blind, she looked out. It was a clear, starlight night, and madame thought how much she would like a walk ; the day and the earlier part of the evening had been sultry, but now it looked pleasant, and she felt tempted to go out.

" Why shouldn't I ? The air would do me good, and- I should sleep afterwards ; but if I go to i">cd now I shall toss from side to side. The good folks are in bed ; I think I will venture," she thought. Going to her bed room, she wrapped herself in a ;lark cloak, and drew the hood over her head, then went quietly downstairs and into the street.

After going some little distance she saw the figure of a woman in front of her, and feeling curious as to who could be out at that hour,

she quickened her footsteps, and as she drew nen.rer s'ic was surprised to

see that the pedestrian was evidently from her figure, a young giri. A few minutes more, then she hurried a I the lane leading to Wittonbury oh) church.

" Where can she he going nl tin. time of night ? " thought mada and she resolved to follow her.

The girlish figure moved so rapidly that madame, though a quick walker had some difficulty in keeping her in sight. She was just beginning 1.0 think the churchyard must lie her

destination, and wondering what would take her out at thai, late hour of the night, when she saw her mount a stile, and madame remembered that years ago it led on to a path that stretched across the field to the bank of the river. What was a young girl doing there at that hour of the night ? A feeling of dread took hold (if her, causing her to quicken her steps to a run, which very soon brought her to the stile. Mounting it she ran across the field, just able to see the figure of the girl ahead of her. Another moment and the girl was close to the river, and as madame gained upon her she was almost surprised that the girl did not look round.

For a moment she paused, and madame heard a voice that she thought she recognized say ; " God in Heaven forgive me all ! " then she gave a jump ; but she was a second too late, as a. pair of arms were flung around her, and madame said :

" My poor child ! " " Let me go—let me go ! " exclaimed Gertie, struggling to free herself ; but madame held her fast as she said :

" No. Life, is too xireeious to be lightly thrown away." " There's no place for me ; I want to hide my disgrace, and be at rest," the poor girl wailed. " Hush. Gertie ! " —for madame hac by this time recognized her. " There is a place in the world for all God's children, even those who have erred. Think how your grandmother loves you ! If you lie dea.d in the river tomorrow morning it will break her heart."

" Oh, madame, you don't know ! Granny would as soon I died as live to disgrace, her," sobbed the girl, who had stopped struggling though madame still kept firm hold of her. " You wrong your grandmother. But let us sit down;" and madame drew her away from the river, and they seated themselves on the soft grass.

" Now tell me all about it, Gertie. I have had a good deal of trouble, and I think I can comfort you," she said gently. " But I have done wrong. He promised to marry me, and I believed him," said Gertie in a tone of such utter wretchedness that it touched madame's heart.

" Do you mean Hugh Hudspith ? " she asked. She felt the girl shiver as she answered :

" Yes. Oh, I may have been wicked but he told me that he would have married at once, only, owing to his mother being against it, he daren't name the matter to his father. Then when she died it was put off until his father had got over his trouble, and after a time he seemed to grow tired of me, and didn't meet, me as he'd done ; still, he said, lie should marry me, until to-night, when he told me he never should, and that I had known it all along, and lie said he hated me," said Gertie, sobbing. " I am not surprised. Pie is a bad man, and you would have been miserable if he had married you," said madame. " But the disgrace, madame ; and the little one won't have a name of its own ! He did love me, but I'm sure some one has stolen his love from me. I heard say he was after Miss Dalrymple, but I don't think she'd have him if she knew all." " I don't think he will win Miss Dalrymple. And now, Gertie I want you to promise me you won't try to take your life. This Hugh Hudspith is a bad man who has taken advantage of your youth and innocence. I will take you back to im house then I will see your grandmother and we will arrange . for you to go away from Wittonbury for a time. Don't fret, child ; it shall he made easy. Will you promise me to live as long as God sees fit to let you, and try to face your trouble bravely ?"

" Yes. madame. But will you try to get me out of Wittonbury ? "

" I will ; and now you must come home with me. I am thankful that I decided to have a walk in the cool night air," she said, as, with her arm in Gertie's, they crossed the field, and were soon in the lane.

At last they readied iho house over the shop in. Market-street, and

madame made Gertie take some refreshment ; then she persuaded her to undress and lie down in her bed, and she sat by her until she was in a sound sleep when she locked the door of the room and once more left the house, but this time she wore her bonnet and cloak. It was after four o'clock and she took the nearest way to the Gelder Inn, which she reached a little before five.

Gertie had told her she had left 111f Kitchen window unfastened, so madame raised it and stepped into the kitchen, then found her way to the door of the room occupied by Mrs. Hayes. Gertie had described the position of it, and before knocking madame turned the handle of if to sec if it was locked . hut to her satisfaction it was uot, and openin;: the door she entered. The morning lijrht streamed into the room and on to the face of Mrs. Hayes, who was sound asleep ; but before rousing her madame took the precaution to close the door. Then she advanced to the side of the bed, and laying her hand on the sleeper's, she said : " Mrs. Hayes, wake up." To be Continued.