Novelist.

Poverty Bay Standard, Volume XI, Issue 1260, 27 January 1883, Page 1 (Supplement)

Novelist.

S A VED BY a'r ING. By Habold W. H. Stephen. CHAPTER XX—(Continued). The rest of the day was spent in hunting for Lucy’s address, with the same ill success. I begin to see the hand of Arthur Sievwright in this, or, at least, that of his ally, Bessie Marston. I remain in oar sitting-room nearly all the morning, writing4l£ters, in answer to those received. I have adopted a back-hand which might be either masculine or feminine. Charlie appears at lunch, and then we walk out in the afternoon—but, ever and always, asking questions. I ventured to-day to recommend him to wait patiently until a letter arrived from the girl, Bessie, and he accepted the advice graciously enough. We shall have peace for a time. This perpetual talk of Lucy maddens me! It stirs up all of my nature, and makes me fit for any villainy. He learned to-day that Sievwright had gone away to get married, it was supposed to Lucy Stanley. He came home in a fine rage, and blustered so much about it that I suspect he was arguing down his own belief. I have —but I will not say one word of myself, till I have written of Charlie. We went to the theatre this morning, and, as chance would have it, we met Bessie Marston. She told Charlie that Lucy Stanley was married to Sievwright, and showed him the announcement of the marriage, cut from a country paper. He read it, staggered back, and fell through the open grave-trap, near which we were standing! Fortunately his fall was broken by a green baiae carpet, or he must have been killed outright; still his chances of life are very slender. He was taken home and put to bed, and two surgeons came up with us. They tell me that his collar-bone, and three of his ribs are broken, and that he has also received concussion of the brain. The furthur extent of his injuries cannot, at present, be ascertained. The doctors say that, if he has received no internal hurt, he may recover—if otherwise—l dare not write it! Oh, my heart! my heart! This most terrible trouble has completely unnerved me— I am so evidently unfit to be trusted in a sickroom that the doctors will not admit me. It wanted but this! But to-morrow I go in, unless they dare to use force to prevent me. He has been delirious all day. He awoke from his stupor early this morning, and then his mind began wandering. I insisted upon my right to wait upon him, and the doctors gave way—they were evidently surprised to see such resolution in a mere boy. His poor bruised head rolls from side to side incessantly, and he keeps up a string of wildest raving—but ever he recurs to Lucy— Lucy! his heart is full of her, and he has forgotten me. After four days delirium he has recovered consciousness. But only to die. At least so say the doctors. “ Why do you think so ? ” I asked one of them. “He is getting hourly weaker. This would be unnatural if there were not some severe internal injury.” “ Would not great mental suffering cause that depression ? ” I continued. “ Certainly. Has he any such trouble ?” “Yes—a great trouble.” ** Then, if it be not soon removed, he will surely die. Good morning.” What shall I do? What shall I do? Is the girl married to that Sievwright ? I do not know, and Bessie Marston would not tell me—she knows me only as Charlie’s friend, not as Sievwright’s accomplice. He is weaker still, but oh, so patient and geutle ? This morning he called me to his side, and asked th* nurse to withdraw for a little while. Then he began—and his faint, trembling voice, pierced my heart! — “ Manuel, I think you love me a little, my boy?” I took his hand, and kissed it passionately. When he withdrew it, he saw that it was wet with tears, and he smiled—such a sad, sad, smile! “ My boy,” he said, “ you know I cannot live much longer!” ** Do not talk so !” I cried. “ You break my heart!” “ You must be brave. After all, remember, you have only known me for a little while— You will soon learn to forget me.” “ Never—never!” I exclaimed, and I buried my face in his pillow.

“ I want you to carry out my wishes after 1 sm gone. Take heart, now, and listen to me.” “ I am listening, said, without raising my head. “ I should like to be buried at Manly Beach,” he continued. “ It was there I last saw my Lucy!” Here he broke down for a moment, and gulped down a sob. “ Y’ou will see to that. I made my will this morning, and everything else has been cared for; I have not forgotten you, my boy, nor your cousin cither. Poor Clara ! I should like to see her again before I die.” “ Should you ? ” I asked, eagerly. “ Yes —she has been my one true friend through all.” How I hated myself as he breathed these trusting words! He continued: “ I have left old Hofer an annuity, and Captain Shandon, too—must not forget those poor creatures, you know—they cannot help themselves.” “ And Lucy ? ” I asked, without daring to glance at him. “ I have provided for her. I think I have forgotten nobody. Give me some cordial, will you—l feel rather weaker than usual.” I called the nurse—l was trembling so that I knew I could not measure out the drops. Then I crept noiselessly out of the room, and flung myself on the floor in my own bedroom. It has been a night of agony I He lay peacefully sleeping as I went to his room at daybreak this morning. How pale and beautiful he looked! O, Charlie! If you die, I shall feel that I have killed you—for if it had not been for me you would have been married to your Lucy long ago; I took a resolution this morning. Immediately after breakfast, I jumped into a cab and drove to the Marstons’ house. They are vulgar, ill-tempered people, and I did not tell them of my sorrow. Bessie was at home, and she received me with some surprise. “ I am Manuel Gonzales,” I said, “ secretary to Mr. Stanislaus, and I wish to see you alone.” “ Well I’m sure —” began the mother, but the girl stopped her. “ Never mind, mother,”, she said; “ the young man is only acting under orders. Stepthis way, if you please,” and she led me into a little room full of children’s litter. Evidently she assumed that I had come on Charlie’s behalf, to find out Lucy’s address. She did not know that he was dying, and I did not tell her. The girl was even too indifferent to take the trouble to ask how he fared, although she had herself been the cause of his accident. I felt that I had it in me to drive a dagger to her cold, treacherous heart! “ Now, Bessie Marston,” I said, when the door was closed, “ it is time to throw off the mask ! ” “ What do you mean ? ” she asked. “ And this familiarity too! If you were not a boy, I would have you kicked out of the house 1 ” “ I am no boy,” I said, “ I am Clara Belzoni ! ” She stared, but spoke no word. I continued :— “ I know all about you and Arthur Sievwright—how he bought you, and what you have done for him.” She shivered—the girl is evidently a coward —it* only wanted that to fill my measure of hatred and contempt for the miserable girl! “ Look here,” I said, handing her a letter. “ Read that, and you will see that Sievwright tells me everything.” “ Yes,” she said, after running her eye over the letter, “ it appears so.” “ Now, girl,” I continued, “ I want from you the truth. Mind you — no lies I But the the simple truth, if you can tell it. Where is Arthur Sievwright ? ” “ Suppose I refuse to tell you ? ” “ I shall take this and other letters I have from Sievwright, and show them to your father and mother, in the first place.” “ A lot they’ll care about it! ” she cried, triumphantly. “ Bnt I know others who will care,” said I. “ I will read them to the company at the theatre where you are engaged, and ruin you professionally.” “ You would not be such a fool. Why, they compromise you as much as me! ” “ That is nothing to me. I do not rare what anybody thinks about me. Besides, I am independent of public opinion, for I am rich; whilst you arc poor, and have to earn your living! ” That argument told. But her mercenary instincts had been aroused. “ What will you give me for the information ?” she said. “ Not one farthing ! ” I cried promptly. “ I force you to tell me—l do not buy your secrets.” I conquered. I have just paid another visit to Charles. He is asleep. I bent over him, and gently kissed his pale forehead—the last kiss that will ever pass between us! I start, by special train, in two hours time. CHAPTER XXI. LUCY CONTINUES THE TALE The farm house, to which we were bound, was situated some seven miles from a railway station, and we were met by the farmer, who drove us over in his buggy. He seemed a morose, taciturn man, and, during the whole of our journey, he did not address us, and contented himself by giving monosyllabic replies to Bessie’s questions—l had no heart for talking. The way lay through the wild bush, and we passed no house, nor sign of clearing or cultivation, on our road. After a weary drive of nearly an hour, we arrived at our destination. Mr. Belgrave’s farm is situated on a plateau, surrounded on all sides by high, thickly-timbered, mountains. The homestead is built of roughhewn stone, and is fairly commodious, though sparsely furnished. Mrs. Belgrave met us atJhe gate of a small flower garden, and gave cold, ceremonious welcome—she did not appear to be more inclined for conversation than her husband. There were no children—for which I was not sorry, for I longed for quiet, and even the laughter and chatter of children would have jarred upon my troubled nerves. We were shown into a long low room, which, we were told, was for our exclusive use and, off which doors led into our two little bed-rooms. Everything was scrupulously clean, and I judged that the people had been in the habit of receiving lodgers during the summer season, for our wants were as well attended to as if we had been in a town house. Much the same monotonous life that we had led at Manly Beach began again for us ; with this difference that, whereas then we were surrounded by a bustling crowd, and could scarcely find solitude anywhere, now, we saw no-one, except two or three farm laborers, and Mr. and Mrs. Belgrave. These last gave us little of their company. Every morning Mrs. Belgrave would wait upon us at the breakfast-table, and enquire what we would like for dinner, using invariably the same formula. Thereafter, unless we met her by chance, we did not see her till the evening, when she would visit us, at nine o’clock precisely, to take our orders for breakfast. As for her husband, he never came near us at all, and, if we chanced upon him in our walks, he would lift his hat, and proceed with his work without deigning

further notice of our presence. Bessie found this isolation intolerable—the more so because we had no tutor to coach us as at Manly, and the farm-house did not boast of such a piece of furniture as a piano. She fidgetted very much, and at last, openly declared that she could bear it no longer. “ I must go away from this awful place, or I shall go mad ! ” she said. “ It is a healthy, quiet, spot, and we arc very comfortable,” I replied. “ Why should we leave it ? ” “ Because there is nothing to do, and absolutely no-one to speak to.” “ I do not find that disagreeable.” “ You may not, but I do. Anyhow, I must go to town, for I have received a letter from my father, requiring my presence, as my mother is very ill, and the children are absolutely unmanageable.” Of course I did not then know that this was pure fiction. The farmer was accustomed to ride in to the nearest post-town for letters twice a week, and I knew that Bessie had received one that day—not from her father, though, but most probably from Sievrigbt. I expressed my sorrowfat the bad news, in fitting terms, and asked her when she proposed to start. “ This afternoon, if Mr. Belgrave can find time to drive me to the station. But will you not come too ?”—She well knew that I would not, or I now know that she would not have made the suggestion. “No,” I said. “What should I do in town ? I am well pleased to be alone here. How soon do you think you will be able to rejoin me?” “ As soon as my mother can spare me. But I must have at least a week or ten days in town. You arc sure you will not be lonely?” I gave her the assurance willingly enough, but for all that I missed her terribly, and soon found out that I was by no means cut out for a Robinson Crusoe. Then I took to painting, and never left my easel as long as light lasted; but the evenings were terribly lonesome, and I began, after four or five days, to feel nervous, and tremble at every sound. One morning, as she brought me my breakfast, Mrs. Belgrave announced that two more lodgers were expected that afterhoon. “ Two gentlemen,” she added. “ They will not bo in your way at all, as they are to have rooms in the opposite wing, and you need not make their acquaintance unless you please.” I said that it was a matter of indifference to me, but nevertheless, as the time for their arrival approached, I caught myself speculating about them, and casting glances down the road, until I got annoyed with myself for my folly, and resolutely pulled down the blind, determined not even to ask Mrs. Belgrave, or the servant (another tongue-tied woman) whether they had arrived. After breakfast, on the following morning, I strolled out into the orchard, which contained a large number of fine old trees, many of which were then heavily laden with fruit. I was eating an apple, and enjoying it very much, when the cracking of twigs caused me to turn my head, and I beheld, coming towards me, Mr. Arthur Sievwright. Now, under other circumstances, I believe I should have felt too angry with that gentleman tq speak to him ; but the solitude had been so oppressive that even hi# face was welcome, and I held out my hand, and cried, in almost joyous tones! “ Who would have thought to see you here?” “You arc then really glad to see me ?” he exclaimed, joyfully. “ Well, no, not exactly,” I said, somewhat dubiously. Then, rather fiercely:—“ Why do you come here? How dare you intrude upon me after your treacherous conduct?” “My treacherous conduct!” he exclaimed, with an admirable assumption of astonishment. “ Oh, it is all very well to pretend innocence ! But I have found out all about it.” “ You have found out what ? Miss Stanley,” he continued, with grave earnestness —“ You have brought an accusation against me of double-dealing. I have the right to demand from you an explanation.” “ This pretence will not deceive me, sir,” I said—now very angrily. “Itis no pretence. What charge have you to make against me?” I was almost confounded by his cool assurance, but I determined to have the matter out and done with, once for all. “ I charge you with having sent a wicked woman named Laura Hoskins, to me, with a lying tale which caused the rupture of my engagement with Mr. Stanislaus ?” “Laura Hoskins! my dear Miss Stanley, there must be some mistake here—l never heard of such a person in my life.” This he said with a smile, doubtless assumed to show his contempt for a charge which he could easily disprove. I did not know how to reply, but he did not give me much time. “ Who told you that I was guilty of this baseness?” he asked. “ Mr. Stanislaus.” “Ah!”—There was a volume of meaning in the exclamation. “Do you mean to insinuate that Charles Stanislaus lied?” I asked, feeling very indignant. “ What evidence did he offer in support of his assertion ?” Sievwright continued, evading a direct reply to my question. “ I needed none 1” I cried, enthusiastically. “ I would believe his bare word against the oaths of a thousand men !” “ But I would not, Miss Stanley, having good reason to doubt his integrity. Now, pray do not be angry, but hear me out—l have a right to demand to be heard in selfdefence, when such a grave charge is made against me. You say that the woman Hoskins told you something which caused you to break your engagement with Stanislaus ? ” “ Y’es, but ” “Excuse me—spare your comments for another minute. Was not Mr. Stanislaus directly interested in proving, or trying to prove that tale to be false ? ” “ Of course he was ! ” “ And you were content to accept his bare word to that effect.” “But I was not, sir!” I cried, triumphantly. “He brought me a letter from Signora Belzoni, corroborating his assertion! ” “ A letter from his special ally—his confidante ! A lady with whom he has been on the most intimate terms of friendship for years past! However, lam fortunately in a position to discredit her testimony, at least. See?” he took a letter from his pocket, folded down a portion of it, and handed it to me. I read:— “I have been trying to patch up a reconciliation between Charles Stanislaus and Lucy Stanley. The girl was too hard upon him—she expected a Joseph*, and flies off in fright when she finds a man. I know you have a weakness in that quarter, but you will get over it. She loves Stanislaus, and you have no chance.” I turned to the end—the letter a was signed “ Clara Belzoni.” “Now,” Sievwright continued—whilst I stood before him, downcast and trembling—- “ Now, I think I have shown you how much you can rely on Signora Belzoni. You see plainly that she believes Stanislaus to be guilty, and that she lent herself to a deception, with the amiable intention of inducing you to accept a man, instead of a Joseph.” The sneer was intolerable, but I could find nothing to say—l could only turn away my head and weep.

“ I am sorry to distress you,” he said soothi igly; “ But you must admit that I was compelled to do so in self-defence.’’ “ Yes,” I murmured, in reply—“ but please leave me now.” “ It would be better to finish the matter, once for all—l shall not recur to it again. You will forgive’me for asking: are you still engaged to Mr. Stanislaus ? ” “ No,” I thought I had no right to withhold the information after what had passed between us. “ I thought not, or you would not be here—nor, for the matter of that, I either. I suppose, then, you did not believe his tale? ” “ I did believe him—but—but—” How could I tell him ? “ Do not hesitate ! I’ray let us speak plainly for once.” “ He said that an insuperable obstacle existed to our marriage.” “Ah ! Laura Hoskins was no doubt the insuperable obstacle. See, Miss Stanley—it is perfectly simple. Something came to his knowledge which made him fear that he would not be able to conceal the truth from you much longer, or until after your marriage, and he took the wise course of running away.” Am I to be blamed for accepting this view of the case ? Charlie had told me nothing of the new impediment, and his only witness of the removal of the old one had been disproved by her own handwriting ! I turned to the house and left Sievwright without another word—l was choking ! I think I did nothing but weep and moan all that day. My idol had been shattered, and [ grieved more over its downfall than over our separation. The next morning, pride came to my aid, and I determined Sievwright should see that I was not going to mope in solitude, because a man had been proved a traitor. I went into the orchard, as before, and was presently joined by him. “ Good morning! ” I cried, affecting a gaiety 1 was far from feeling. “Is it not a lovely day ? ” “It is, indeed,” he replied. “ Are you going for a walk ? ” 5 ‘ Does that mean, am I going for a walk with Mr. Arthur Sievwright ? Well, I don’t mind—there is a charming doll, with a tiny waterfall, which is well worth a visit. Come —I will show it to you.” As we strolled along our conversation was on different matters, but, when we reached the water-fall, I.made a remark which led to an avowal I had not expected. I said: “ By the way, where is your friend ? And who is he ? And how did you happen to come here at all ? ” “ My friend is probably still in bed,” he replied. “ His name is Charters, and he is a confirmed invalid.” “And you came here to nurse him? Oh, that was good of you ! ” “ Not exactly. He is not ill enough yet to need nursing. But I promised to go somewhere into the country with him for a week or two; and then I met Bessie Marston—and —and—” lie hesitated, and I, like a fool, precipitated the climax he would perhaps have avoided. “You met Bessie Marston! ” I said. “ What has that to do with your coming here ? ” “ She told me that you were here.” Light at last! I had- actually forgotten hitherto that the man had sought ray love ! I was so ashamed that I could not speak. “ Yes, Lucy,” he continued, with passionate earnestness. “ I could not resist the impulse to be near you again ! The moth and the candle, you know—the moth will flutter round the light till its wings are singed and it falls and dies ! You tell me you arc free now. Give me some hope! Let me think that, in years to come, if you like, you will accept me as your husband ! ” “ I cannot—l cannot I Love is not uprooted from the heart in a day 1 ” “ I know that to my cost I But love for an unworthy object soon perishes. See, dear—--1 love you so dearly that your life with me would be happy, even if you came to me without a spark of affection for me.” “ It is useless, Mr. Sievwright,” I replied. “Do not make our intercourse unpleasant by such pleading for what I can never grant. Do not force me to leave here, and shun your presence! ” “No, no! A thousand times no! I will suffer in silence—only let me be with you yet a little while! Let me sun myself in your presence while I may ! ” “ Remember the moth! ” I said, with a sad smile—l really pitied him, for he was terribly in earnest, and I think no woman ever blamed a man for loving her. “Remember the moth?’ 1 he repeated. “ Yes—let me like the moth flutter ; and like it, fall and die! ‘ ’Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all! ’ ” Sievwright kept his word for We days, and much of my time was spent with him and his friend, whom I found to be a very uninteresting valetudinarian, wholly occupied with himself and his sufferings. The change did me good. Under the influence of the pure mountain air and wholesome unadulterated food I grew strong in body; whilst Sievwright kept my mind from brooding over my trouble, and gradually weaned me from despondency. I did not learn to forget my love; but, as before at Manly, I schooled myself to regard it as bestowed upon an unworthy object; and I strove, with a certain measure of success, to banish Charles Stanislaus from my thoughts. One afternoon I heard the sound of approaching wheels, and presently a drove up to the gate, and then alighted from it a very handsome boy, with great black eyes, and the complexion of a gipsy. His features somehow seemed familiar to me, but I knew that I could not have forgotten him, had I met him before, and I was therefore equally surprised when, half an hour later, the servant entered and announced Mr. Gonzales. “ I must ask you to excuse this self-intro-duction, Miss Stanley, v he began. “My name is Manuel Gonzales —I am cousin to the Signora Clara Belzoni, and secretary to Mr. Charles Stanislaus.” “ Be seated, if you please,” I said, whilst my heart fluttered so that I grew faint, and almost fell back upon the sofa from which I had arisen on his entrance. “ I come on a grave errand,” ho continued. “ Mr. Stanislaus has met with a serious accident, and now lies dangerously ill.” I could not suppress a sharp cry at this announcement. “ We do not know that he will recover, but the doctors think the only hope is in you.” “ In me? ” “ If you would condescend to visit him”— “ Impossible; you do not know what you ask.” “Pardon me—l know everything. Mr. Stanislaus has honored me with his entire confidence, and, with all repect, I may say that I know more than you do about your mutual affairs.” “ Then you know how wickedly he deceived me! ” I cried—in my indignation, forgetting his perilous position. “Nay, Miss Stanley—You have been deceived, but not by Charles Stanislaus.” “ By whom, then ? ” “ Look there,” he answered, pointing to the window. “The real deceiver flies, for he knows that the hour to unmask him has arrived.” Mr Sievwright and his friend were placing their portmanteaus in the buggy, and, as I watched, they took their seats, and were driven away I “ What does that mean ? ” I asked.

“ It means, that you have in all probability seen Arthur Sievwright for the last time.” “ Has he then lied to me ? But then—the Signora’s letter—no, no—it is not possible ! ” “Y’ou refer to a letter written by Clara Belzoni to Sievwright, which has been shown to you by him ? ” —The boy appeared to know everything !—“ That letter was written for that purpose only. My cousin was in league with Sievwright.” “ Impossible! ” “ Too true,” he said, with a sigh. “ But what tempted her to such treachery ? I can understand the reason for Sievwright’s conduct, but hers is inexplicable.” “ Sievwright loved you—cannot the same reason apply in Clara’s case ? ” “ I do not understand ” — “I shame to say that she loved—nay, she loves ! — Charles Stanislaus — as fondly, as madly as Sievwright loves you ! ” Manuel hid his face, but he could not conceal the blush of shame at having to make this avowal of his relative’s weakness. “ Then the tale of that woman was false ? ” I cried. “ Every word of it. She was the tool of those two unhappy lovers.”—Now will you go with me to Mr. Stanislaus?” Still I hesitated. “He said there was an obstacle ” —I began, but Manuel did not give me time to proceed. “ What if there were ?” ho said. “ Even if marriage between you were impossible, that is no reason why you should refuse to see a dying man.” “Dying!” I cried,in an agony of fear. “Is ho dying ?” “ Well, no—not exactly dying; but he is very weak, and the doctors say that, if he does not soon gain strength, he will fade away. Oh, he is so weak—so thin—so haggard !” I could have kissed the boy for the tone of tender sympathy in which he spoke these words. “ I will go,” I said, with decision. “ I knew you would. But let me relieve your mind as much as I can :—No obstacle now exists to your union with Charles Stanislaus, and he was in search of you, to tell you this, when the accident occurred.” “No obstacle I He said it was insuperable ?” (To be continued.)