CHAPTER XX. A STRANGE DEED.

Te Aroha News, Volume IV, Issue 182, 11 December 1886, Page 7

CHAPTER XX. A STRANGE DEED.

Moknixg dawned — a clear, beautiful day. Margaret Houghton awoke with amile3 upon her lips, a deeper love-light in her eyes, and her heart thrilling with the glory of loving and being loved, She had dreamed such tender, beautiful dreams of her beloved, and the bright future awaiting them, and today Louis was to speak to her father regarding their wedding-day— to-day it was to be decided when she would become his wife. Suddenly a vigorous peal of the bell broke in upon her tender musings — a peal that seemed to have an ominoua and threatening sound to her. It was not answerod promptly, and was followed by another peal, more imperative and startling than before. Then she heard the door open, and some one speaking in quick, stern tones. Next, thore were sounds, of hurried footstop9 on the stairs, then a rap upon her father's door, a few words spoken in low, rapid tones ; after that, silence Five minutes later she heard her father come forth from his chamber and hasten below. What did these unuaual proceedings mean ? and wby need she experionce that sudden sensation of impending evil, that creeping horror, as if she feared some dread ful blow was about to fall and crush out all the light of her life ? She threw on a white wrapper, thrust her small feet into a pair of slippers, and harried down to the lower hall, where ehe found her father and another man talking together in low, excited tones. "You are sure he has not been here?" she heard the stranger say. " No, he haa not been here since laah evening. He left, I believe, a little before ten," Mr Houghton replied. "But what is the trouble? You have not told meyou only hinted at something wrong." Margaret never forgot the cold chills that ran over her frame, nor the agony that was crowded into that brief instant while ?he waited for the man's reply. Neither he nor her father knew that she had come upon theni so noiselessly that they had not heard a sound. " He has not been at the office this morning, an<i he is usually there before, or a« soon as anyone, and — the safe was found unlocked and robbed of its contents." Mr Houghton grew pale. "Was there much money in it?" he asked. "Two hundred thousand francs, mon eieur." " Two hundred thousand francs — forty thousand dollars?" cried Mr Houghton, aghast. "Oui, monsieur; we have been in hi^ apartments — he is not there. Nothing wasdisarranged, his bed was untumbled, his had not been home all night ; and, pardon monsiour, we have now come to search for him here." A small white hand was at this moment laid upon Mr Houghton's arm. He turned. His daughter stood beside I him, her face as colourless ac her dresf, while ehe looked like somo fair spirit that had just floated down from above. "It is Louis of whom you are speaking?" she questioned, and her white lips seemed to move mechanically, her eyes were filled with a look of anguish such I as her father hoped he might never see in them again. " Yes," he answered, while he held her hand in his own, ana began to stroke it tenderly, for it was co icy cold, and almost chilled him. " He was here, you know, last evening," Margaret explained ; "he left about fifteen ■

minutes to ten— the clock struck the quarter just aa we left the parlour. I urged him zo stay, as it was not late ; but he «aid he waa anxious— there was a large amount of money in bis office, and he could not rest until he had been there to see that everything was safe and right tor the night. "Ah !" exclaimed the man, who was listening breathlessly to what ohe paid, "Ah!" echoed Mr < Houghton, but a different thought flashod through each brain. '•Me has been followed, robbed, and perh.iD3 ujuidorotl," was Mr Houghton'e inward reflection, with a sinking heart. " He has robbed the fsato, and fled with monoy," commented the other to hkncolf, " \ r ou have not seen him tince lash ovening at, quarter of ten, mad'jmoi'.olt* ?" he questioned, legaidtng the young gitl teuidhinyly. ' ° " Ao," she murmured, shivering slightly, for the man's tone jarred upon hoi 1 , and she feared that something dioudful must have happened to Louis. "iVoneieur will not object to his bHng f-eaichod?" remarked the man, turning to Mr Hough ton. " CeiUinly noi," ho replied with dign;»y. The man stepped to the doo" nun beckoned to dome one without, and instantly a gunrinrme entered, and picenio J a paper to Mr Houghton. It was a seaich-w arrant, showing thai all obicctions on hia pait would have been u-c-lo?-, it he ln-.d offered any. M.'.rgartl, seeing it, reeled whore .s'^e stood, an 1 putting out both hands, convulsively guu-ped her father's arm. "Why should they wi-h to eeaivh 11 c house?' she asked, huskily. "Do they believe that he — Loi'ii—has taken t)n« mopey, and gono away with it ?" " I fear so," he admitted leluctantlv. The beautiful girl drew he-'-e'f r,rhaughtily. Hoi lips curled ; her e\On fbit^-cd with <-cnrn as she turned th' m ii.in '»>.; inttndoi*, who were regarding her with undi^Ljui^ed admiration "U i« utterly impossible,"' rho <viiL "Mr I unbar could not do ouch ,1 deod, ' '■ INrdon, mademoiselle," j>^l<L>h' uturneri the man who had intor\ v,,, ; Vl h , f.if'ior. " JJo one ha? a key to 'he <=uc =-'jvo Mr Dunbar and the enshier ; rhlo rnorr,;-,^ it was found open, with his l;cy in thr jn^'P the money gone— a very laitrc and tov r t ing amount, too Mr Dunbar h mi--,t7ifr, find no traco of him in all Paris V\'c t~va do out- duK', madGmo>->r4lo ; we X* -u 1,-^ nirie)ed to find \Jr Dunbar ; vrima3t •■em **o \ for him heye — everywhere," 1 "If- i* u + terly ur.po««ib'e ; ho ioi d? not! do it '" M'U'jjfP.rGt reaeated. Thon, as the men pa«opd nn r.'ioui. I'm"'business, suddenly biuUo own. j id threw herself into her fath v's ;>n<?s'. 4o lorl her into the parlour, yl'""^ ber in -\ comfortable rhair before th'j nrfu] <.-,- ; V, antJ tlien went to rail hi 5*5 * w"» E\erything certainly looked ve.-j dv k and m\-3terious, and hif o-' n honl \< i \ <mlurbcrl by nn:.ioue fo»ebndin^ ; Thri ,b\n iv ! hoi been done with the key lv'or:n;i.<- to Louis ;tho cashier* k^y w.i-. J 5!:I!l in lii- - r,i possession ; the other wjp iVa C L\ i'->o '^ '; of the safe, the door of which wf,=* >vl.lo j open, while not a hoik ■ ]j ' ' been disturbed — the moaoy div.-.W.s aloao ' were empty. [ The two hundred tho;7>i>r,J fvaocs bod ' been p,-id in just before Mir hcu'- fr>i olof^P" 1 I the oiliee, and the ca«>h ; er .stated Me Ti.ivbr'i' had seeixied troubled nn vious when it wa=; delivered to him, for ffc vps p^-ifc banking hour=, and U v*o >id hr'va to bo kent in tho office until uicn: -/. He had remainrd ti < -i i p-"iT'f>nrl tlio locking of the pa ft \i,.d u .a.jilr cl r::^-! window and tried evcy door atoi it van fastened. All this tihe co°hi' j i* f^lificrl to under oath, and declared thcr ho b o li.und tho^e had been foul play in fhr mrttor, for i\lr Dunbar wa 3 not a mm likely to do n HiH-v pioce of businofsliko that — ho u.i 1 ' a, penileman nd no robber. 71 u bole.\ocl that -owe body must have su«p^ct rl tho pro^onee of money and shadowed him, and, ■when ho it^ turned to sco that even r.hin'i; tho office, robbed him of the key, and p c ir hao 5 ! muidered him. Of eom'se no trace of Louis was diJeovorLil in the Houghton mansion, and thj ofliccihavine: done their duty. apolocHteeil for their intrusion, and weie about to v.-itb>]ra*v whe u Margaret snddenly lcmexbrnt-d \rbnt her lover had told her regarding hig father. She quickly related the ficts In Mr Houghton, who repeated them to tho oflieerSj and they b^at n hasty retreat, their opinions greatly ohanryrd, and believing they would coon biing tho real rcgue to justice. Great excitement prevailed in tho city over the strar^o aff<iir, but \vhen it oama to be known that'Mr Dunbar had a father in Paris \vhc3Q charartor wag questionable, many not knowing of his engagement to the wealthy Miss Houghton, and who had before been inclined to boliovo that ho himpelf had absconded with tho handsomo sum, now decided that the father waa tho guilty party, and had sacrificed his own &on to his jjreed for sold. There wa« deep grief in the Houghton mansion. ' 1> seemed almost as if thoie had b6en a death there. Margaret was nearly wild with anvioty and suspenee, for sho imagined that Louis had met with a horriblo fa f e. During tbo early pnrt o£ the day Arihur Aspinwall dropped in upon the troubled family. "I am so lonesome since Uncle Albert went away that Ido not know what to do with myself," He apologised, ag he entered the room where the household w»e gathered 1 ; then he started : "What is the "matter?" he asked, looking from one to the other of tho sorrowful group and remarking their blank, while facos and despondent attitude, Mr Houghton dre-v him aside. " Haven't you heard of tho robbery of last night ?"' he asked. "No; where was it? I have not benn quite well for a day or two — arose lato this morning, took my breakfast in my room, And then came directly here. Who has been robbed ?" " Dunbar's office was robbed of forty thousand dollars ladt night, and Louis him-t-olf is missing." " Tho deuce !" exekurued {he young man, in a startled tono. Mr Houghton then explained Ibf. cxreum?tances as far a3 he knew them, remarking that suspicion waa directly against tho young man's father. "Father? Dunbar had no father," re turned Arthur, in a derisive tono. "He was always preaching that thoro was a mystery shadowing his parentage." [\fr Houghton then onligutenod him further upon that subject. '• Urn !" remarked Arthur, reflectively, when the elder gentleman had concluded. "You don't suppose that this— this story of ft father is a trumped up affair to throw peoplo upon the wrong ecent, do you?" " Not for a moment,' returned Mr Houghton, with indignant emphasis. "Louis Dunbar is the soul ot honour. What would that comparatively paltry sum be to him, when he might have marrrif d Margaret in a month with threo or four times that amount?" '■True; no — no, ho would not be likely to sacrifice so much for so little," Arthur responded, but hia lips weie firmly compressed and his tone was strained and unnatural. (To be Continued.)