Lady Trebor's Secret, OR THE MYSTERY OF CECIL ROSSE.

Patea Mail, Volume III, Issue 269, 10 November 1877, Page 4

Lady Trebor's Secret, OR THE MYSTERY OF CECIL ROSSE.

[By Mrs. Harriet Lewis.] CHAPTER XLI. CONDITIONAL PROTECTION. The master of the farm-house, a stout and rugged Highlander, sprang - forward and caught Cecil as her slight figure swayed forward, and she lay swooning in his arms. Motioning the bystanders aside he carried her into the house. The Highland women, compassionate and wondering, struck by the girls marvellous beauty and her helplessness, hurried after him. Old Gretchen followed, limping, groaning, and lamenting. The farmer entered the great kitchen of the dwelling and laid Cecil on a low and homely couch near a window. Her head fell back upon the pillow, her eyes were closed, her features were sharply outlined; she looked as if she were dead. Under efficient ministrations Cecil presently uttered alow, sobbing sigh, and opened her dusky eyes in a slow, wondering expression, to be exchanged for one of recognition. The girl was too weary and spent to move a limb or muscle. The softness of the couch was delicious to her. She did not speak, except to answer interrogations showered upon her, but Gretchen hastened to ask the housewife for shelter for the night. “ The MacDougals never turned even a beggar from their door,” was the answer, given with a sort of pride. “Ye arc welcome to stay as long as je like, woman, both you and the puir lassie there, who will not be fit to travel for a week.” The evening meal having been partaken of the Highlander and his wife, with Gretchen, drew near to the girl’s couch. “ Your ponies are clean knockit up, Miss,” sml MaeDougal, politely. “ They won’t bo able to travel the morrow, if ever. The puir beasties seem to have been hard pushed—like yersels. Hae ye travelled far ?” “ For three or four days,” replied Cecil, wearily. “ So long as that ? Had ye no man with ye, Miss?” “ No, we were quite alone, Gretchen and I. We came from the soacoast — from an old house known as Black Rock.” The fanner and his wife exchanged incredulous glances. “ Black Rock, the seat of the Oathcairns, yo dinna mean, Miss ?” asked the farmer. Cecil replied in the affirmative. “ But yo dinna mean, o’ coorse, that ye cam, frae Black Rock House, Miss? That hao been shut tit up a' lifetime. The ghosts of the twin blithers walk there, they say.” “We have spent the winter at Black Rock House,” said Cecil. “We did not know the traditions connected with the place.” Again the farmer and his wife exchanged glances. Cecil at first hesitated about telling her story, but after a while determined to tell everything boldly, but Gretchen saved her the trouble by at once entering upon an account of their history from the time of leaving London to their arrival at the farm house, And then she described their flight, its terrors and adventures, the shepherd’s hut and the second escape from Jarvis, the loss of the pony in a mountain-pass, and her narrow escape from death, and concluded by imploring MaeDougal to befriend her young mistress and herself. “ I know that Jarvis is hurrying after us,” she exclaimed. “ Miss Cecil cannot go on to-morrow. He may find us here. Tell us that he shall not harm ns, Mr MaeDougal, that you will protect us. In the mime of Heaven, befriend two helpless beings who are cast upon your mercy.” “It’s a vera strange stoiy,” said the Highlander, cautiously, his face wearing a puzzled expression. “ I never heard the like. But as you say, you’ll not be able to travel for some days to coom. The young lady is tired out, and ye look the same. Y T c shall have food an’ shelter; make yoursels comfortable on that.” “ And protection too ?” asked. Gretchen, eagerly. “ If Jarvis comes will you protect us ?” The Highlander scratched his head. “ Wull, ye sec, woman,” he said, “ there’s always twa sides to a story. I maun hear the ither side afore I promise !” Gretchen wrung her hands together. Cecil’s pale thin face grew paler, and she made a feeble attempt to rise. “ Dinna yc fash yersels !” exclaimed McDougal. “ Ye can stay an’ welcome. But I’ll tell ye freely, your story does not sound well. People do no murders in this country an’ age o’ the woiT or if they do, it’s in wicked Lun’non and the South, and not in the Hielan’s. I doot but the young lady has rin awa’ frae her Lame. I doot but there’s a fause lover somewhere, or that she rebels against law an’ authority contrary to the; Holy Scriptures, an’ that ye aid an’ abet her. So I maun hear the ither side.” “ Jarvis will tell you that he is a madhouse keeper, and that we are escaped patients,” said Cecil, bitterly. MaeDougal regarded the visitors suspiciously. It seemed to him that such a statement would certainly have a strong air of probability. He began to think it

might be the true solution of I his strange i affair, There certainly was a ‘ daft’ appearance about the old ‘ foreign woman.’ “ I resairvo my joodjment until the man Jairvis appears,”' he announced. “ fin’ when I hao heard baith sides o’ the case I maun gie my decision. Whichever seems most probable I shall favor,” Mrs MaeDougal, a strong-featured, sandy-haired woman, with a decided spirit of her own, who had listened to the story with keen and vivid interest, watching the beautiful young girl on the couch with a gaze of rapt admiration, now' interposed: “ Diana yo fash yersel,” she exclaimed. “ I believe ye bait. If ony man, Jairvis, or what ithor name he maun ca’ hisself, cooms here, he shall bo walkit off wi’ a flea in his lug. Mind that Wilium ! Jean MaeDougal talc’s these puir women under her own protection, an’ they shall bide safe in this hoose, an’ gae safe awa’ when they hae restid. Mind that, Willum !”

Mrs MaeDougal appeared like an angel of mercy to the worn-out fugitives, her light-gray eyes flashing, her strong features working in excess of indignant feel iug, A maid entered and whispered in her mistress’s ear. Mrs MaeDougal arose. “ The prophet’s chamber is ready,” she announced, employing the ancient phrase by which the spare chamber is still often known in country places, in allusion to the occasional visits of some minister who is invited to occupy it. “ I’ll tak’ ye to it mesel’. 1 ’ Gretchen arose, but paused, picking at her gown nervously. “ I cannot sleep if I am to have the terror of that man Jarvis before my eyes,” she exclaimed. “Mr MaeDougal, can I say nothing to convince you that I have told the truth ? If you would only believe us, and promise to protect us, we would bless you for your goodness. Butif you resolve to listen to Jarvis, we are. lost !” “ If ye spead truth,” said the farmer, ye can prove it. Is not this sae ? An’ if ye prove it. I’ll bt yer fren’.” “ But how can I prove it ?” asked Gretchen, despairingly. “ You won’t take my word.” “ Yc say the man Jairvis ha’ but a lame pony. , He’ll be a day or mote in cooming here. I can keep him waitin’ a few days an’ ye like. The young lady is na fit to travel at present. Yh hae friends belike. Write to them, an, wait here till ye get an answer. If they cooroborate your words well and guid. If not, let the man Jarvis be believit.” Cecil’s face showed her despair. She thought of her landlady, Mrs Thomas, of Queen’s Crescent, Bayswater, but, although Mrs Thomas might write in response to a letter, she certainly could not conic.to Scotland. And after her months of absence from London, Cecil feared that she could not make her long silence intelligible to Mrs Thomas in a letter, and that her missive might meet with no response. She thought of Lady Trevor, but she believed that the widow had become long since the wife of Lord Glenham, and she shrunk from an appeal to the supposed wife of the man she still loved with her entire soul. To whom else could she write ? Her heart sunk within her. Old Gretchen went over the same ground in her mind. She thought of Mrs Thomas, of Lady Trevor, and of Mr Pulford. And, then, with a great sigh of relief, she thought of Maldred Crafton. He loved her young mistress; he would hasten to her relief and protection. Her face glowed; her eyes shone. “ I have thought of a friend who will corroborate our words,” she exclaimed, “ and, more than that, who will come here and take us away. Give me pen and paper and I’ll write the letter now.” [to bb continued.]