CHAPTER XLII. AN INTERESTED MAN.

Te Aroha News, Volume IV, Issue 194, 12 March 1887, Page 7 (Supplement)

CHAPTER XLII. AN INTERESTED MAN.

As Boon as Louis and Margaret left the building after finding tho gold} Arthur commenced with renewed vigour to dig away at the hole he was making in the wall. It was astonishing to see with what ' energy the usually indolent, pleasure-seek- ' ing young man toiled. The knife was dull, " and it was slow, hard work. At last, however, he had two laths cut 'away, then something confronted him for whioh he was wholly unprepared. Behind that lathing there was a solid brick Vail— a fire-proof wall I He eank down upon the floor with a groan, all hope crushed out of his heart. He lay there in a crouching attitude for some time, then he glanced up eagerly at the other side of his prison —the rear side. There might not be any wall upon that side. His table stood in the corner ; he sprang up and moved it out, and in doing so discovered another hole not quite the size •of the one on which he had been at 'work. Ah 1 the diamond-worker who had 1 owned the shop in the years gone by had -seen'that his treasures should be carefully rguarded ; while Louis had not, after all, been such a fool as he had at first supposed. He, too, had tried to eacapa in the same way, and been baffled by that impassable barrier. But what had he done with the debris 1 The safe ! He sprang toward it. YeB, it was halt full of lime and broken laths. He threw himself upon hia couch with an oath that ended in a groan of despair. Must he stay there and be ruu down like a rat in a trap?— be arrested like any common thief— be tried and condemned to a 'fat© that to him would be worse than death ? His eye caught the gleam of his pocketknife, which ho had thrown upon the floor after breaking it upon the tougn laths, and he started, while a Bhiver ran through his frame. It had been very sharp, and a steady, determined etroko across an artery, even with that broken blade, would place him beyond all fear of man or law. Ye?, all fear of man ! Dare he do it ? Had ha courage and nerve to make that fatal stroke ? He grew faint and sick ; there came a sudden shock, a strong revulsion at the thought. A blur fell before hia eyee ; a ringing, as of discordant belle, was in hia ears ; a cold -sweat started out upon his forehead, and his heart beat with heavy throbs. No, he had not the nerve ; for, away back in the past, when he was a little child and had knelt at his mother's kneea to be taugth to lisp his childish prayera, there had been instilled into his tender mind the fear of God, and accountability to Him. He might succeed in escaping the bar of human justice by becoming a suicide, but hs knew it woulil only be to find himself before the bar of God to be judged—yes, •and condemned — for all eternity. His mother had been an amiable, Christian woman, and he had loved her as well as his eeltiah, exacting, arrogant nature would permit him to love any one, She had been faithful to him, instructing him, as many an other mother hat* done her boy, and reaping ho return during life ; but he •knew that all her life she had prayed to the God in whom she believed for him, and that with her latest breath she had spoken his name, and pleaded that she might be allowed to meet him by-and-by in the upper world to which she was going. She was gone ; but, though dead, she yet seemed to speak to him, and in the awful silence of that room, where for a moment the mad thought of taking his own life had come to him, ho seemed to feel her presence while a vieion of ins past arose before him. What had it amounted to ? He had lived for himsolf alone, for the gratification of his whim and caprices, making everything subservient to his own selfish desires. He had plotted and intrigued from his earliest b->yhood to gain his own ends ; he had allowed nothing to stand in hia way, if trickery, or meanness, or deceit would avail. He had never, that he could remember, done a noble act, performed a really good deed, or denied bimeelf for tha sake of another. He had sown the wind — was he about to reap the whi/lwind ? For the firat time in his life he stood face to face with his own poul and saw it as it waa, realising; how he had warped, marred, and misused that God given treasure. Waa it too late to redeem himsolf ? He groaned aloud in mental agony at the thought, Yes, h-) thought, it was too late, for soon the world would know him as he was, and he would be branded for all time with a mark which nothing could ever efface. Suddenly ho heard a noise below, Some One was coming. Wag it Louis returniug, or had he sent a gendarme to arrest him ? In a few moments a key was inserted in the lock, the door was thrown open, and two men entered, one of them a gendarme. " Why are you here?" Arthur questioned, fioareely. "You are wanted, monsieur," was the brief reply, ag tho gendarme produced his key to his prison and unlocked it, bidding him to come forth and prepare to go with them, and he knew then that Louis had given him up to justice. With a face that was perfectly ashen, he obeyed the command, and, each taking him by the arm, they led him from the building into the Rue da Blanc, where there was a carriage waiting. This they entered and were driven rapidly away. Arriving at the office where they were expected, the prisoner was led directly into the inner room, where the door wa9 immediately locked and the key withdrawn. Hore he found those whom we have already mentioned, while, during the absence of the officer and the clerk, Mr and Mrs Houghtoa had arrived, and, to the astonishment of Margaret) and Louis, they were accompanied by Mr Forest. This gentleman had made his appearance in Mrs Houghton'a parlour soon after Margaret went out upon her visit to Louis. Almost his first inquiry was regarding his nephew. Mrs Houghton, of course, could tell him nothing except that he had mentioned his intention oi leaving Paris for a few days. Mr Forest appeared surprised and troubled about this intelligence. Then he asked for newsi of Louis Dunbar. " Poor Louis ! have you not heard the sad news regarding him ?" asked Mrs Houghton,' surprised. " Sad newe, madam ! Great heavens ! has anything happened to him? 1 ' Mr Forest exclaimed, greatly agitated. li Ye 3 ; he suddenly disappeared shortly after you left Paris, and nothing has been heard of him Bince." •'Nothing? Is there no clue— nothing to lead any one to suspect what has become of him ?" " No : and that is not all " " Tell me quickly !' interrupted Mr Forest, growing pale, and actually tremb ling with apprehension,

"A largo amount of money — fortythousand dollars —die appeared with him." M Impossible 1" . " It id true, my friend," said Mrs Houghton, sadly, although she wondered somewhat at his excitement over the matter, "Do they say that? he took it and— ran away ?" demanded her companion, hoarsely. "Some suspect him of being the defaulter; but—" " Never ! I would stake my life upon hie iutegrity." "So would wp," answered Mrs Houghton, wiping a tear from her eye ; " but whatever has become of him —whatever became of the money, no one has been able to learn as yet. The whole affair is a deep mystery." "Ah, madam, you unnerve me. He was I such a noble young man. There wae nothing but truth in his eye, honour and manliness in his countenance and bearing. Begin* at the beginning and tell me the whole story," Mr Forest begged with emotion. Mrs Houghton complied and rehearsed whatis so familiar to ue all ; butshe waequite through, when her husband entered the room, looking flurried and anxious. " What ip it, Wallace?" Bhe asked, rising hastily and going forward to meet him. Her first thought was always for Margaret. "Where is Margaret?" he asked, regarding her earnestly. " She went out some time ago. Yes, a long time ago," ehe replied, with a start, as, glancing at the clock, ahe saw how late it was. *' Has anything happened to her?" " No, dear ; Ido not think any harm has happened to her," he replied, reassuringly ; " but I have a note from her, asking me to come to the office of the telephone company immediately and bring you with me." "|How strange? What oan it mean ?" "We will not stop to conjecture," Mr Houghton said ; " we must go to her without delay." Mre Houghton led him forward to greet Mr Forest, and then hastened from the room to prepare to go to Margaret. In less than ten minutes she was ready and back again in the parlour, and at her almost impatient "I am ready, Wallace," Mr Houghton arose and excused himself to hid guesc. •' I will accompany you, if I may be permitted," Mr Forest said, rising also. "If it is anything connected with the affair that your wife has just been telling me about, I am as much interested as anybody," They wondered at his request, for they knew that he had met Louis but a very few times, and was almost a stranger to him. ( To be Continued. )