CHAPTER XXXIX.

Te Aroha News, Volume III, Issue 150, 17 April 1886, Page 6

CHAPTER XXXIX.

AUD REY'S KECOMPENSE Duuixo the first part of Audrey's story Arthur Halstead s£»t and listened, much as any one might have done ; intei'ested, indeed, bat without suspicion that it so nearly concerned him. Bur, a3 &he proceeded, its familiarity grew upon him, and wh6n she spoke of the fire that had consumed his dwelling, and which, as every on© believed, bad destroyed his beautiful boy and his nurse ; mentioning how it had occurred, and the diabolical spirit that had planned and executed the dreadful deed, the blood within hi 3 veins seemed almost to congeal ; his body became rigid, and he looked more like a statue than a living being. When Audrey had, in answar to Eich'a inquiry, uttered the name of his father, the young man turned like one bereft of sense, and gazed upon him, whom, ever since thoir first meeting, he had remembered with much of admiration and esteem. As Rich turned that look upon hia father, ie seemed to break the spell that had been upon him. lie staggered to his feet and crossed over to him, with outstretched hands, an expression of intense yearning on his face. Rich arose also, and the two strong men grasped each other's hands wifch feeliogs which may be far more easily imagined than described. "My boy i my boy ! can it be true?" Mr Halstead cried, in a voice tremulous with emotion. 1 his, then, was his father ! Ho;v strange it seemed, after all the yearnings of his boyhood for a father's love and guidance - yearnings that had been mingled with dread lest the discovory might bring deeper pain to him than to remain in ignorance regarding the circumstances of his birth And that sweet, pale-faced woman, with such cad, dark eyes, and a cevtaiu moonlight beauty that had always haunted him — whom he had seen for the first and only time within his memory, that summer day in Vermont, and who had spoken so graciously to h|m, and had given him that golden ring which still gleamed upon his tingor — was hia mother • But stranger than all else was tha fact of his having been so wonderfully thrown into Audrey Waldemar's care ! — that he, her old-time lover's son, should have been reared with such tenderness and love by her ! "Audrey," Arthur Halstead at length said, speaking in a husky voice, "you are sure there is no doubt about this story ?" " / have not the slightest doubt about ifc," she replied, confidently. "Of course," he continued, " I knew all about that dreadful fire— except as to its origin. That has always been a mystery until this hour. W ebelieve that the nurße must have fallen a3leep when at her post, and that a epark from the open grate had snapped out upon her clothing, or some other inflammable substance, and the flames got beyond her control before she discovered them, whon it was too late to save either herself or the child,and both had suffocated from the smoke, or perishod most miserably in the flames. Although every effort was made to discover the bodies, we did not wonder at our failure, for the house waa of massive structure, and was burned almost to

the ground. But I have never doubted, for an instant, that my boy perished that dreadful night, and I have never ceased to mourn him dead. I can hardly realise that he lives and stands before me!" He looked up wonderingly, and with almost a sense of awe, into Rich's face as ho concluded. "The woman's story is too plausible to be doubted for a moment," said Audrey. " She told me so much of your history that I knew it must be true— the names— the date, all corresponded exactly with what I j myself know, and her own name she gave mo as Margaret Fox." "Yes— yes— that was the girl's name," cried Mr Halstead, eagerly, "and I remember that she had a swarthy complexion, with great black eyes and heavy hair, and a somewhat forbidding countenance ; though when she was good-natrred and happy sho might not have been thought ill-looking." S "Yes, you have described her exactly,' Audrey replied ; "and ehe said that beforo leaving your house sbe went to your private desk in the library and took a large roll of bills from it. This money supported her and her little charge for a long time But, after going into the country, she had a fit of sickness which consumed the most of what was left, and after that they were very poor. Sometimes she was able to work and earn a little, but oftener she was obliged to send the child out ro beg." "Rich sent out to her/ !" exclaimed Mr Halstead, turning pale again at the thought. " Whon 1 have had more than plenty, my boy going hungry for bread, and begging for her !" " That was perhaps a fortunate circumstance after all, hard a 9 it may seem," said Audrey ; " for otherwise I might ncvor have found him " Then she proceeded to relate °11 those event", which we already know, connected with her adoption of Rich, and their life since leaving her country home. '•It is the most wonderful story lever heard," Arthur Haletead eaid, when she concluded. <l What a wrotched, revengeful creature the woman must have been i And then to think that my child should have fallen into your hands to be reared and educated ! That is more astonishing than all else !" Then turning to Rich, he continued, while a fond smile illumined his fine face : " Richmond, my boy, are you prepared to acknow ledge your father?" Rich could only clasp his hand in reply. Ho was moved to his very soul's depths at the discovery that he was the son of this noble man - that he could claim an honour able birth — an untarnished name. Then, as if ho felt that he mu3t not appeal to renounce his allegianco to her whom he had owed so much, he put out his other hand and grasped Audrey's. Arthur lialstead's face lighted at this act. "Audrey,'' he said, earnestly, "this but serve 3 to strengthen the bond between us— and how mnch 1 owo you for what you have made my boy !" "/owe Rich agreat deal for the comfort he has been tome,"Misa Waldemar responded, Iramulously. ' He has been nothing but a b'essing to ms from the first ; and when I lost my property, you have no idea how manfully he went to work to take care of me " " Ah ' but he must have had w ise training, or he would never have been what he is," Mr Hnlatoad roturned. "I tremble when I think what might have been if he had been reared by that woman ; while I am bound to conics3 that you have done far better by him than even his own mother could have done, with her poor health, though she loved him most tendeily, and his supposed horrible fate nearly killed her. " "It must have been very hard for you both," Rich said, sadly, and sighing as he .remembered that wistful, yearning expres&ion in his mother's eyes. "But," he added, "Aunt Audrey's given me the wisest of (raining; she has been a mother indeed to me, and I believe it would hurdly be possible for me to love any one more than I lovoher." " But, Anhur, you did not tell me that you had ever had a son, when I inquired for your family," Audrey observed. "No ; I told you that I had no children. That was always my reply when any one questioned me regarding my family. It was easier to say that than to explain that I had lost my boy, and then have to go over the dreadtul story in death." " Your grandfather Halstead named you Rich," he said, turning to the young man. "He did nob exactly like his own, which was Richard, and yet he wanted you to have something that sounded as near like it as possible, so compromised the matter, and called you Richmond." "It is the nicer name, I think," said Audrey ; but, Arthur, is it not a little singular that you should have trusted Margaret Fox so fully ? She must have been a stiange character." " I do not know,'' he returned, thoughtfully. "I never knew anything of her unhappy and remarkable affection for me until you told me this evening. Probably Ida thought it too absurd to mention, and she always conducted herself with the utmost decorum whenever she was in my presence. If I had known of it I should have insisted upon a change of nurses at once. But lam too grateful, at this present moment, to cherish any revengeful feelings toward the poor dyiDg woman, although," with a tremble in his voice, " she has deprived me, for long yeors of his love, and of the pleasure of watching him develop day by day and year by year." "It was a dreadful thing," sighed Audrey, "and yet good has grown out of it —at least to me. This is my recompense for all the trial and sorrow of the pasfc — that I can restore your son to you, and a worthy son, too, of a noble father. I often wondered while our lives vvere so divided, why each was doomed to go a different and such a difficult way. But there was a purpoao in le —do you not see ? And is not the reward a wonderful one ?" • "I suppose we should regard it in that way, "returned the gentleman, thoughtfully. " However, we will thankfully aocept our present blessings, and not mar them by vainly regretting the past. But Rich is going to reap some benefit from this long waiting, as well as we How will it suit you, young man, to have the control of a fine fortune from this time on ?" he concluded, turning with a look of pride on his son. "A fortune !" R^ich repeated in a surprised tone. " Yes. Your mother was quite an heiress at the time of her marriage, and her proporty has been accumulating ever since, as she was too feeble to onjoy spending money very much, and never even used the whole of her yearly income," explained Mr Hal stead- " A competence is what I have been hoping to achieve by olose attention to business," Rich replied, gravely; "but a fortune, however large, seems of very little moment to me just now, compared to the fact that I have found you —my father." "Bless you, my son ! That last is the sweetest word that I have heard this many a year," said Mr Halstead heartily. " God grant that we may live long to enjoy this renewed relationship." "This Margaret Fox," Audrey said, when, after a time, they had all become a

little composed, " seemed to be quite anxious regarding her nephew. She says he was not always unkind to her, though he possessed something of her own passionate, revengeful disposition. She says he was her only dependonce, and that he suddenly disappeared last winter, and she had heard nothing from him since, until she saw in a daily paper an account of his attempt to take your life." " Ah ! then his disappearance must have occurred about the time of his attempted abduction of Anne," said Rich. "Yes, I judged so ; and she has had a hard time to get along ever since. A few weeks ago she took a severe cold, which resulted in this dreadful fever. She seemed quite softened and repented, and requested me to ask you to forgive her for the great wrong that she has done you." " Which I freely do, and to prove it, will commit her to your tender mercies, Aunt Audrey, together with whatever means may be necessary to insure her futuie comfort," Rich answered, heartily. "What do you suppose a ceitain little blue eyed lady will tay when she discovers that she cannot marry Richmond Waldemar?" Mr Halstead questioned, a little later, when they were discussing their return to Lynneli. Rich's eyes twinkled. "I'm sure I cannot say how Annie will feel about it," he replied. " What do you think, Aunt Audrey ? Will there be any serious objection to exchanging the name oi Waldemar for that of Halstead?" And Mi6s Waldemar, thinking only ol those two dear young people, very innocently replied : " I am sure, Rich, I cannot conceive Oi any." The burst of laughter froir both gentlemen which greeted this admission made her conscious of the jest perpetrated at her expense, and a beautiful blush suffused her face. But nothing daucted, she pursued, with a defiant little toss of her shapely head, and a shy glance at Mr Haletead : " Well, if there ia any doubt upon the subject, and she chooses to wait long enough, perhaps I will prove my position." "I think I shall retain both names," Rich said, gravely, after a moment of thought. " I have become deeply attached to your name, Aunt Audrey, and I am very reluctant to drop it altogether ; so I mean to be known henceforth as I'.ichmond Waldemar Halstead." "I am glad you have made that decision, Rich," said his father, •• for I shall be glad to retain the name of Waldemar in the family," and Audrey also appeared gratified by this evident love for old associations. "But,'' said Rich, with a sudden look of intereet, c< this will necessitate a little change in a certain document which I procured of the city clerk a short time ago ' - how very fortunate that this discovery was made befoie the tenth !" "True; it would have made matters a trifle awkward, I confess," said Mr Halstead, with an amused laugh. The next morning that gentleman himself visited Belleview Hospital and had an intervie >v with Margaret Fox, recognising her at once ; and, questioning her further regarding her confession, be was fully satisfied with the truth of it and that he had indeed found his son. {To be Continued.)