CHAPTER XIV.

Te Aroha News, Volume IV, Issue 160, 28 August 1886, Page 7

CHAPTER XIV.

THE BIARY- WIUTTEN WITH " DEVIL'S INK." Yoow* Sterling fully intended to ask Glora ■ when and why Mrs Henderson had tried to kill her, and who Mrs Henderson was, but for the present his attention was too much taken up with the litMe diary. On the first pace, which be was holding to the heat, was the date of the writer's arrival at Lisbon Place : " Lisbon Place, June 3rd, 1859." He read, it out. '• Yes, yes," exclaimed Glora, excitedly, " that was the day she came. I remember it distinctly." He went on with the diary. " Lisbon place is a pretty name and thig 18 a pretty place. Ib almost seems to me as if I could be at peace here. Surely no one will ever come to this remote Rpot who will recognise me. I may throw off that fear at least. Oh, what a relief it is ! If I had remained in New Orleans another six months it would have killed me. Never to daro look a human creature in the face without thatjear. It was done for my benefit; — although not ho intended— this coming of the family to Cuba. " Immediately that I set my foot on the shores of this island did I resolve to keep here. I was doubtful about the family giving me a recommendation, after my throwing up my situation with them, but they were kind enough to do it. I should have left them all the same. To get aa far away as possible from the scenes of my mis fortune, is my object. Away ! away !it eeetas as if the whole epace of this world wtiw nob wide enough to divide me fron? that >spoi Good HeaYon ! when I came down 1 hat morning along with the other?, and j looked in the room and Haw him sitting them behind the door in his chair justa& we There, there, there ! I never can take up my pen but it seems of itself to run back to that subject. Then why do I writs ? Simply because I dare not speak, and my own thoughts and feelings would destroy me, if I did not allow them some freedom. "It is very sweet, and quiet here. Oa. how I hate a crowd ! If I hear a n )Jso of shouting or &cc many people gathered together, I begin to tremble. Yes, lam cafe here. If I can, I intend to remain here, renting and recovering my shattered nerves until something better offers to my adven turous spirit. " Mrs JTardiue is very lovely and lovable ; at least, she must be so to others. I never can lovo any one again. But innocent and unsuspecting as she is, even she feels thut there is something wrong about me. I understand now about the ' brand of Cain.' I feel it on my forehead. It is invi-ible, like thia writing, but every ray from the eyes of purity brings it ou 1 ". I leel it there — I feel it there. »S7te saw it. Poor fool ! che saw and shrank from it ; yet she knew not what it was, or she never would have taken up with me. I hated her for her indecision : yet I telt a sneer curling my lips when she finally accepted mo. Flatter a mother's vanity, and you have her fa-t I made the child plead my" cause. She had opened the door, and let a seroent into her sweet Southern paradise. I fedl snaLy, somehow, I am almost tempted to turn and sting myself." " Was this woman insane ?" asked George, who had with some difficulty slowly read out the cramped characters. 41 No more'u I am 'cept with the devil. Snaky! hum, I should say that was the very word, sir — handsome, and silent, and soft gliding about where you didn't look for her. Haven't you heard of children being snakocharmed, sir?" " I. have heard of it. Glora, but I must eav that I never saw it." ** Well, /have. Tve seen children dividing their bread and milk with black sma.ke-, hir ; and I saw my little mi?sa, bless her pretty jrold head ! charmed by that worn in so chat she would follow her, and lie in her lap. and ' look up at her— under a spoil she was." ' The pages which lollowod forathiid of the book were to mouldy that only a word 1 here and there could be made out. Gaorge tried them all, for he had begun to be in1 tereeted in the diary. Finally he came to a few more lines which were legible : "*' I have been here six months. In all 1 that time Mrs Ja«*dine had not had half-a 1 dozen visitors; and I have easily avoided ' the few who came. My health and sphits I are better than when I came. Jam beginJ ning to recover from the shock of thofee events ; but prison -life took the colour out of my face, and it does not come back. A3 * I cay, lam safe here ; but one does not 3 wish to live merely to feel safe from identity. 3 'I would be glad of more to take up mv mind. The restless spirit with which I 8 was cursed will not allow me ro endure r this monotony without constantly tempting , me to "lam giving her Fowler's solution now, 0 in small quantities. Curious ; but thus far r it has really seemed to improve her health. I am trying to stop giving it to her. I * like her, She has been aa good as a , Biater to me. I will stop if I cau. But I must have something to take up my mind. , It' a a comfort to hate some one freely, and |* I hate that mulatto girl with a rim. She returns the sentiment. She watches? me ; I am convinced of it. She suspects me of something, the Lord ktiowß what ; and she is always spying upon me " D " That's so !" exclaimed Glora, springing II to her feet — she had been down on her knee** 3>3 > blowvne up the coals to vivify the writing 1(1 — 4< I didspy upon her night aud day. Oh, > 8 oh, oh !" ehe burst forth in a sudden sob of grief, "if I had watched closer ib might [° never have happened." . " What might not have happened ?"' ! ? " Any of it, sir. Please go on. Can you make out anymore?" He turned another >x page or two, and continued : l ® •* She is very impatient to hnve her nephew arrive. ' I wish it also. She pro- & mised totake me with her to Mexico. There will be some chance for adventure in that land of volcanoes and revolutions •* We are disappointed. Senor Sebastian writes that his wife is dead, and t.l\a*s h* cannot come for several months. She tells me nk this gentleman is vastly wealthy. , l\o* it that he is a widower, it might interest me ler even more than I imagined to make hi? nc ! ur quaintance. I wish he would cotne. 1 have ut left off giving the solution. I had pome •n- words with Glora to day. She's aa hnportim- nenfc hussy 1— " I — "If I had only warned my mist^QPß !", >." • moaned the coloured woman. "Bui. ic was Is- only a feeling. I 1I 1 couldn't prove any »d thing." 1 .■ , " ' •on 1 There' was scarcely anything move decider pherable in the book, until near the close Id, ! u few pages camo out aa distinctly as if just ale 1 'written.''- ' >"<•>* "■ l the «*I am mightily pleased with the insur--to »ectlbri* ; I \ think/ 1 see an opportunity 4 I hh'rough'itr^'^ »m* • - >.-;

,"I have managed to .interception^ Sebastian's letters, and have written to him. • not to come at present.'/)/! think ev.enMwj „ lardine would not know my, hand-writing f trom hers, I have become b«j expert.^ which, < 3howa> what Jong .and faithful' practice will 30. I' began more than a year ago. , Th© , poor lady is very much excited about th» lawless acts ' of the soldierß, of which she bears rumours. There may be danger, t welcome it. I .welcome any change after nearly three years of this stupid and farcical part which I have been playing at Lisboa Place. My plan begins to shape itself; although still far from perfection in the datails. When on e- attempts this she should , be most careful about details. I waß nearlyruined in New York from my neglect of , some of the accessories. "My plot ia nearly as perfect a 9 it can be. I much need a confidantes to aid me in communicating, with H , who commands a regiment of Spanish soldiers. But I know the danger of confidantes, I must trust t<* a letter, I have informed H that Mrs Jardine is a rabid revolutionist. "They will bo here in less than a fortnight. I have fooled H as well as Ms victim. He thinks her plate jewellery and a portion of her money are in the house, or he would not take the trouble to pillage theplace. He ought to be satisfied with the stores of provisions for his men and their animals which he will obtain, as this raid will take him but two days' march out of his way. Now about the child. I cannot make up my mind. She is five yeara old. Almost too old to be deceived. Yet I shrink from allowing harm to fall on her pretty head. Yes, I believe lam sincereriy attached to the little creature. She has never felt toward me the repulsion which others are Bure, sooner or later, to betray, I saw Mrs Jardine watching me to-day. When I looked up quickly, she coloured* and then turned pale. Glora has been talking about me, I suspect. Let her chatter, her days are numbered. «' I shall have little difficulty with Ferraro Brothers. Ie has been years since they met the lady. I wish I had some morphine. There is none in the medicine-chest. But t h ere are pi en ty of poppy • seedsin the garden . If infused with the coffee I wondei if their flavour would be perceptible. I must experiment, and find out beiore-hand. If I bucceed it will bo a bold and clever strokeof business to be dene by a woman. I am • not much afraid of failure. The people On. the plantation arc as stuoid as donkeys. They could betray nothing, even if they were questioned, which I shall prevent. Ife will bi pa f e?t to dispose of Glora-entirely. u We practice with our revolvers every day. Poor Mrs Jardine is so nervous and timid that she never hits anything except when she trie 5 ? not to. Yesterday our weapous disappeared. I said nothing but looked at them. I found them after a few hours under a flat stone in the flower-gar-den. Glora must have put them there. I paid nothing, but took them in, and the next time I met her I playfully pointed one at her. Oh, now she did screech." " I did," said Glova, who had stood, with folded arm?, and stern darkening features, listening to tho plow reading. " I screamed to pee that she had found them. Is there any more writin', sir ?" "Nothing more. The last page is torn oub. Now, Glora, what does all thia rigmarole mean ? Have you the clue to ie, or i» it a few page-* copied out of some book ?5>? 5> ' I can tell you all about, it, sir. The Lord knows ifc isn't no rigmarole, when my poor mistress lost her lite " "But she didn't lose it, Glora; there's where you are mistaken." She sfcarqd at him a moment with her- \ great black eyes enlai ging. [ " Come, let's take it easy," added young* Sterling, finding the hearth rather warm, and seating himself on the cool stone step o> the door, he prepared to listen. Glora was too excited to think of sitting* She walked up and down the flags in front ot the door, occasionally pasfrinjr before herhearer, or moving away from him as her feelings ptompted. " l'h «wiir,orot that was a woman, sir, who* ca'iio to Lisbon Piace to be a companion ta my poor, pretty, rniafns after the master died. Her name vvas Henderson — leastways thattwas one of her alibi*, sir " " L have heard of her,' ramarked George refraining from smiling at her misuse of th* word . " I never liked her from the beginning. Mistrals UMod to laugh and fay I was jealous of Mrs Henderson. I s'po«e I was, tor mistress u^ed to set great store by my company before she came. Elowsomever* I knew she was <\ bad woman. I could tell it by tho cut of her jib, as Sam says. After she'd been here a few months I &;ota notion she was putting eomethin' inK>MrsJardine'a coffee. Now I sec I was not mistaken. What's that stuff &ha speaks of " ** Flowers solution That,'." a preparation of arsenic, Glora." " I knew it ! I knew ifc !" excitedly clasping, her h mda ; " but 1 watched so close she left- off." " But ivhr did she do it, Glora ? I don'fc see that sh« h-irt anything, to gx\n by it." '• I cannot tell," was the solemn re-ponse. "I s'pnse «he -*o!d herself to Baf-w and did whatever came in her head. Ail the 'ime*, after tho w,ir bioke out, I Wtw dreadful uneasy. Not halt" so much about, the soldiers as about Mi- Henderson. I caw the evil spirit workin' in her. I knew, an well as I knew I was alive, that, something wrong; was up ; yet I could not find out what it wa3. I laid awake nights, an" I thought till, my head wa-j on fire ; but I couldn't fix on, nothing wrong to tell my mispress. Still X kept a warning, of her. She u?ed to get out of patience wiih me and called me silly; yet she was troubled and nervous, too. She didn't euspecr, Mr* HendeiSiW, but she; was awfully ariaid of the soldier?. '•The two ladies used to f.aik about defending themselves. Mrs H^ndereon got Mrs Jardine to send to Hav.iti'i lor a pair of revolvers, imd then showed her how to lowt and fire. I didn't like them revolvers. Juflt because Mrs Henderson wanted 'em I! didn't want her to have 'em. One day I hjwt 'em, as she tells. No wonder I screeched when she not 'oin again and pointed one &t* me. I saw murder in her look ; she j«wfc smiled that cold, cruel way which she had. "Ifc was not a, week after that. It was a hot night ; tho Btars were all out, twinkling ; the air, was sultry, t was tired, but I wasn't sleepy. I couldn't feel like goin* to bed. Ailerß, since master died, I had slept in a closet out of minus's room Ot rolled up on a mat beside her bed. Little Bella slept; on a cot in her rnotner'a room. That night, about ten o'clock, I went, up to-, their chamber. Mra Jardine had forga^^nb, all her troubles, and was steeping swg^tjifcrv Little Bella, too, was in a deep sleepy, \E thought it orange they Bhould be so semwi,. asleep so early* but I see into it now : 'twas 1 that poppy -tea in their coffee, sir. 1 hadn't tasted any coffee that night, though cook, offered me some. I was thirsty, and took cold waten , > " Well< I couldn't rep,t, as I say, and I , went and ,dtood a few minutes by Mrs HenderscmV door. t She was up, ior I could hew her. walking kbout. I: peeped through thft keyhole, and I saw her busy packing & lfttgfe handbag with papers— bundles of ,pap«nr» like deeds and that, and, with clothing, I wonderud \rhat it meant. , All at one« H thought w'uat it meant, and- I began to* tremblosn that I) could. nob etand. . For •» miQuto. oti:two I eetrifibtdpwn onthe floor* Then I gutiup.aud glided softly down atair*

to [look* for Sam. Sam was beginning to court me in them days, and I knew he could be trusted. I foutid him asleep on the pantry floor, and his gun, whioh be kept with him, bad been taken away. He was very stupid. • At last I rou3ed him and he started io his feet. *' *Where is your gun ?' I asked him. " 'I dunno,' he said ; 'it was by my aide when' l laid down !' " * Sam,' said I, ' the soldiers are coming here to-night. lam certain of it. Mrs Henderson is packing her bag to run away. Oh, oh ! what shall Ido ? We shall all be killed.* My poor mistress and little Bella will be murdered !' *' He didn't half believe me. But when he considered about the gun being taken from him he began to be "afraid. He paid that he would go out and warn the guard and get all the negroes up. For see, we had a guard every night in those times. He crept through the pantry window, and went off to have a look about and to warn the three men on guard, I heard persons in the stables getting out the horses or doing something to the carriage. I was certain there was mischief afoot, and had turned to go and waken mistress, when shots were fired, and there was a horrid shouting, and firing, and tramping all over the place. A cabin, not far from the house, burst into flames. It had been lighted to give the soldiers a chance to see to plunder the place. " 1 rushed up to mistress' room. Before I got to the door I heard a pietol fired in the room. Mad with fear, I burat in, and sow a sight which has made my whole life since wretched by turns. Mrs Henderson had shot my mistress in her bed where she lay, and had set fire to the bedclothing. She still held the smoking revolver in her hand, and was lifting little Bella, whom not all the noise had wakened, out of her cot. I ran, and tried to dragjmy mistresa'd dead body from the burning bed. " < Good-by, Glora !' "calledout Mrs Henderson tauntingly. "Then, having pulledmy lady to the floor, I turned, thinking of the child. As I turned, a shot took me in the shoulder ; and then, having killed, aa she thought, the two whom she had planned to kill, for I fell instantly, Mra Henderson fled down the stairs, carrying the little girl on her arm. I dragged myself along the floor until I came to the head of the stairs, calling for Sam, thinking of the poor baby. When I tried to creep down, I got dizzy/and knew no more. " They say 1 fell to the foot of the stairs, where I swooned away, and would have been burned alive but for Sam. who riaked his life to drag me out, after the place was full of fire an' smoke. He got me out an' carried me off, with the soldiers hootin' an' laughin* at him, and firm' their guns after him, for sport. But not a ball hit him, thank Heaven ! and he laid me in a negro cabin a good ways off, and stopped the hole in my shoulder with a piece of my dre?s, and there I laid for dead a good while. Sometime the next day I came to, and Sam brought me water, and took care o' me ; and in a day or two some of the coloured women fixed up the hat, and staid by me. "Twas three or four weeks afore I knew what had happened, and ihen I didn't want to live, I felt so bad, "But Sam was sot upon my getting well, and I did, in the course of time. And we got married, and would be as happy as folks could be, if I could ever forget my poor mistress's bonea fonndjafter the fire was out, or could kuow what that woman did with that child, or conld forget what a sweet, pretty place thia was before that shedevil brought the soldiers to spile it." " But your mistress was not killed after all, it seem?," repeated her listener ; and then suddenly he gave a start, as an idea flashed through his br*nn, and hie troubled eyes, seeking a solution of the enigma, turned upon the perplexed ones of the mulatto woman.