CHAPTER Xxix.

Te Aroha News, Volume V, Issue 219, 10 September 1887, Page 7

CHAPTER Xxix.

• FLED ! . Oh, chance ! Oh, wonflraus change ! Rui tt are the prison hais,— This womont, here, solo'.y, JSoilow,- so agonised, and new Ucyond the ttars. • Oh, change ! stupendous change ! There lies the soulless olod ; ■ Tho sun eternal U>eaU&, 'iThcne-wivAiuorlal wakes,— Wakes with hib God. CAUOIiINU SOUTIIFA'. • tC "3q^fTi<N, M ciunc in fainter timircnurs from • thehlps of the dying man. Geixild Fitzgerald bent down' ,li;"s car and -str&i»ed his attention to catch the expiring sonvkis. Bui, -the lips moved no moiaj'Uie last ■word >jvis spoken ; Ihe last breath was dravfj*-; Maurice Fit/,g?r.ild had ( (topped into thaD Liot, delicious sleep frqm ,? 'Inch "thc,wiH^T\will be in, another Id. Yet hib bon listened, knowing his.attention to be in vain — listened in that !r ik>ute awe which precedes grief, even in u»ho iiea\iesfc.tyjv^nenientp, :iju 1 holds the s&iiib •motionless, r-t pell-bound, -iii the piofeence<'jf .death. At last, ?{UI holding the dead liand, bo vunk upon;!)*, knees by t\ti bedside anfcjjittiyed silent^ 'Then he ato&e, and, wj"s.h reverential, tenderness, tClowd the sightj^ss eyes and' •the .mute lip.Sj.w d drew the 3j.oet over the lilt'lo^s face. FjiasUy, he ,cl<vcd the windft.v shutters, and'ie& the (Jhapvoei of death. I« ,\hc hall ontade ho met Greenleai, w'Uo had jutttefb her 100m,. attended byiUertmde. ""W.e Are quite i^ady to rclfcw'O you, Cokmel 3?st7geiald,.u:id to take ovi» places beside Mx Fitzgerald.," " said Su-Ctcheer fully, ' '"My fftUtxer has pafes<*? beyond our Ch\ rge, my dear Mis-s Gieenleaf. I thank you *,■*! nestly ail the same, ho\\c3vei/' graveh replied the bereaved son. " You do &et mean to say — " e\clainu»J Miss Sue, and i&evc she stepped appalled, 1 "My father is gone, Miss Greenleaf. H*p • passed away .scoieely an hour,igo." ' "I am deeply stocked. lam piofoundly grieved," said Sfiss Sue, as the {'.ears rushed to h<a* eyes. " The will of Heaven be done/ muttered (leiald Fitzgerald, in a choking \Gice, as he struggled for composure, "(Jo to your room and lie down, dear Colonel. You should not be troubled with details just now. Leave all to me for this one day, and take your re»t, I will .seft all done that is necessary, and I will send off a messenger immediately for my brother,"' said Miss Sue, ■with thoughtful kindness. "I thank you. Miss Greenleaf. I will i*Aive for a shoi b time. Pray do as you suggest,'' replied Gerald Fitzgerald, pre.^jng Ivw hand and then relinquishing it, as Ik* buiVr&s\ away and entered his own room, and, (h'&#e& as he was, threw himself down, exhausted, upon hi^ bed. Not to slJ«'.p ! Sorrow for the sudden death of his father, so far as he could realise it even now, a^d pain and perplexity in regaid to the unre\P^ed, fatal secret which old Maurice Fit7ge* alcl had died in trying to utter, kept his mina wi ought up to a state of excitement entirely ible with sleep. The sudden death of his father was an accomplished fact, leaviJS ]ip^|jld it a dull, ttij}, deap-seated pain, ft p'^e-ntimc-rit' t } }ftt it wouW soon nwaken and realise itself in poignaru But the mystery of the untold secret in which the honour of the high Fitzgerald was at stake — this was a living, active, irritant trouble ! It had nob died with Maurice Fitzgerald. It lived in the keeping of a wandering mad woman, and might, in any inward move (which she desciibed as being the possession of a malignant spirit), be suddenly disclosed to the world ! And what was this mystery ? That it was a most degrading secret was certain from the words of her who had spoken of ib withoot revealing it, and of him who had died in n< ? $ff°rt to »<.te r it. It might alsso involVe home case of deep injusticp-_a OD >:, duty of heroic restitution. At ttll events, it was a mystery which it \va« now the duty of Gerald Fitzgerald to investigate and leveal. To do this he must hunt out and interrogate the mad woman Magdala. She had gafd that " while possessed of a devil," she was capable of revealing the secret. In other and more rational words when hhe was in the humour to communicate, she might do so. Thinking of this, Colonel Fitzgerald resolved to find her out. Meanwhile Mi.ss Sue fireenlenf went down fotairs and ordered Jeremy, the body-servant of the late Mr Fitzgerald, to call the household together in the long dining-room, as the had something to announce to them. The old man, without the least suspicion of the loss that had befallen them, bowed deeply, and withdrew to deliver his message. Mies Sue called Gertrude to follow her, and went into the long dining-room, took her seat at the head of the table, and sat with her elbow resting on the shining mahogany and her head bowed upon her hand. Gertrude sat silent beside her. The door opened and all the household servants filed in, bowed, and ranged themselves in a line at the foot of the table, and waited for Miss Greenleaf to speak. Miss Sue then arose and said : " My goods friends, you all know how very ill your dear master has been. It will not surprise you, therefore, however it may wound and grieve you, to learn that—"" Here Miss Sue was interrupted by loud cries, groans and wails of the assembled men, women and children, who anticipated her fatal communication by breaking into wild exclamations of — " Ole marster is dead ? Oh, oh, oh ! ole marster is dead ! Dead and gone ! Dead and gone ! Nebber see ole marster no more ! Nebber no more ! Nebber no more !" The tumult was so great as to drown the voice of Miss Greenleaf, who ceased to speak while these affectionate, untutored children of nature gave way to the wildest exhibitions of sorrow and despair, wringing their hands, swinging their bodies to and fro, shrieking, crying, weeping, sobbing, and continuing their weird refrain : " Ole marse is dead ! Dead and gone ! Dead, and gone ! Nebber scq ole marse no Ynore ! Nebber no more > Nebber no more 1" It W'dS move like the inarticulate, unreasoning lamentations sometimes feeen and heard among the brute creation than the "mourning of huhian beings. Gertrude looked on in an agony of syhipathy and compassion as l<2>ng as she could bear, and then bent her lips to MisH 'Greenleaf's ear and whispered t "Oh, Miss Sue! speak some comfort k the poor souls. Tell them it in not ho .'" "What -is not bo,' my child?. What tan tell them ? Their toaster « dead

antiijgiane. I cannot tell them that ac ,nol so,*' .answered Miss Greenleaf in «, '.long whisper. "s'Helis gone, but he is not dead. JMist Sue, you know better than that. TeVLtthem, TeaAh " I cannot, my dear. It is a greai mystery. I do not understand it myself. I am-suro they could not be made to under stand, it." " Qh, yes, they ould. Their lore would help *ihem to do so, 'murmured Gertrude. Thou taken out of herself by her gireat pity, carried beyond bashfulness, timidity, and all -self-consciousness, she went down among' the wailing' negroes, mingled with them, iaid. her hands on such as she knew., and called them by name as she spoke to them. "Do mot vweep so, Aunt Hetty. Y<mv dear old •master is not really dead. He its moie alive than he ever was before. As you ure a Christian woman, you know this, and you mu.st'take it to your heait and feel it, too, and i et (the comfort of it. Jeremy, listen to me. There is no death. Youi 1 good old master is more alive than you are at this moment ; and ever so much more fiee than I. am, ,or any of us ever can be, until we are fiee.of the body for evermore. Oli ! dear friend;, in all the Lord's lovely universe there v's no death, nor any possibility of deat!l\, but change to good and to better and better for ever. Let me telli you, Leah," she said, addressing tl*e uyd nurse of the late master: "yon ?ure .over eighty yearn old, and ha-s o servetft it llong, long time in the fle^h. You ha*-c a , daughter and giandehildren and "rttti-gvandchildren in the far Southwest, and y,ou .often want to go to them, but cannot Kaw, if you were free, as your master is to-.day, you would go to .them at once— not to $\\q\v vibible presence, unit nearer srill to ihem— rinto their very *-iuls. Oh ! if I could only make you feel it all," she said, almost/ -sinking in her sense 01/neiKciency and wesfcxic^s. Then, using s«»;h homely similes as the buttei fly in the cht^alH the bird in the -shell, sjhe tried to insji«\e tliem with the perception of the truti ol the continuance #wd asqe\mon of life s^ter apparent death, as she h<vl received that truth from th^ teachings of Gabrie\ Haddon, and from tke intuition* of the Spirit. And whether it was Irom th.c influence <>f her touefc., or her -\ oice, or her words, we know not, tvut we know that she calmed the wild tumult before she came to herself. Then, as tilv coloured people quietly left the room, she^ame around and rejoined Miss ■Hue Greenleaf, " My dear e^.ild, you have quieted tliem, fctffcl don't believe they understand a word y<v& .<aid, I'm not t-;\ en sure that / did,'' said Mte* Greenleaf. "{}Ji, Miss Bue, it is not always by understand^, it is by jaorception we get the tiuth. Perhaps they do not understand, but they perceived. )do not understand, but I perceive/ mimjwrcd Gertrude, reverentially. " All that in a great deal too metaphysical for mo, my dear. But 1 must send off <i me.-^enger to? Royal to come here and attend to things. Colonel Fitzgerald must not be distui bed by details to-day," said Miss Sue, so? bhe pagfsed out into the hall, and sent Jeremy down to the stable with oulers to mount and carry the tidings of J the death of Maurice Fitzgerald to Greenwood, and to request Mi* Royal Greenleaf to come immediately to the Summit to take the direction of aifahs. Then Mi?s Greenleaf busied herself and her young companion with such preparations for the funeral as came immediately under her feminine jurisdiction. Royal Gieenleaf reached the Summit early in the afternoon. Colonel Fitzgerald being appiised of his arrival, came down to ic^cive him. <t r i^' lt ' is very sudden, Gerald — very sudIw, indeed". [ feel for y°"» m y boy : * , * j-,« f | T Tfiiy ""nber when I lost my lo mh.v^ . * JC«*v- ~ j_j _t •> wn father ; big man as x,. " ' ' , . Here honest Royal Greeu. eals 01 ? e luite broke down, and he finished by silently ■viinging the hand of his fiiend and turning iway. "Sit down, Royal, and let me offer you some refreshments after your long ride," >aid Colonel Fitzgerald, by u ay >f putting in end to condolences. "No, no, no ; I couldn't touch anything low, thank you. 1 came here to serve you, Tell nW hew I can besfc do j*- lam xWutely afc your oulei'P. X«\l hftYC Only to command me, sir," saM [^Gjal Greenleat, earnestly. "1 thank you from my heart," replied Rerald Fitzgerald, taking and pressing the hand of his iriendly neighbour. Then the two gentlemen drew their chairs together to discuss the business that brought them into company. Gerald Fitzgerald gave his instructions, and Royal took out note-book and pencil and jotted them down. TV'hcn jVIr Greenleaf had received the last direction, recorded it, replaced his pencil and note-book in his pocket 2 and was in the act of rising to take leave, Colonel Fitzgerald stopped him by suddenly inquiring : " Royal, do you know anything about a certain poor, mad woman who roams around the country under the name of— of Magdala, or where she is to be found ?" " I know a very wjicertain mad- woman of that name, but I haven't the leas'; idea in the world where she is to be found," replied Mr Greenleaf. ' • Can you tell me anything at all about her? Who is she? Where she came from ? What turned her brain V 11 Is it possible you don't know anything about iVlagdala?" ' ' You know that I have been an absentee from home for nearly the whole of the last fifteen years— four years at West Point, three in Florida, three in Mexico, and five on the Western plains. " "That is bo, certainly. Of course, you could know nothing about Magdala. And to tell the truth, we know very little. She is the one mystery of our prosaic neighbourhood." " Did my father know her well?" " I don't think he knew her afc all. I never, saw her at the Summit or near it in my life. She haunted the valleys, not the mountains. Favours Greenwood, Forest Lodge, and the Cave House with her visits, but has never been seen ht Hill Top Hall, or Summit Manor Hqu.^, I Relieve," Colonel Fitzgerald could have set his neighbour right as to the mad woman's visits to the Summit Manor ; but forbearing to do so, he inquired : " Will you tell me all that you do know about this singular woman ?" * Yes, certainly ; but that is little enough. Neither I nor anyone else about nere fieems to know anything about her beyond that — thab in the great flood of fifteen years ago she was rescued from the water in a halfdrowned condition. W hether she was mad before, or whether the perils and sufferings of that awful night drove her mad, no one knows, or ever can know, I do suppose : for> though she was brought to reason, many who saw the most of her about that time declared their opinion that on thai terriblenight she lost her mind, her memory artd fcveh her own identity. Certain it it that ehe has never been able to give th< ! least account of herself, or thfc wlightesi clue to her history. She -co^ld not even tel herowh name." "How came she, then-, tw h® oalled Mag xkk ?" inquired Cokwtol JTitagerald.

"Oh ! 1 have heard that in the pocket of her dress, when she was picked up, was found an empty pocket-book, on the little silver clasp of which was engraved the word — Magdala ; bvit whether that word was a name, or, if it was a name, whether it was hers, no one ever knew ; for when she herself was questioned on the subject, she only sho.ok her head and said she could not tell. However, that was the way in which she came to be called Magdala. But why aro you so suddenly interested in this poor, mad woman, if it is a fair que« ,tion, Geiald ?" gravely demanded Royal iGicenleaf. " I will tell you at some future time, neighbour, not now, "answered Colonel Fit/cgerald. Whilo they spoke together in Ihe parlour the house was full of quiet bustle, if ouch a phrase be admissible. People were moving about in silence or speaking together in whispers, as they busied themselves in preparing to pay the last honours to the reanains of the departed master. As Colonel Fitzgerald uttered "his last .words, Gertrude Haddon entered from the conservatory with her arms full of white .flowers, with which she glided softly acioss the parlour, merely bowing to Royal GreenJeaf as she passed, and took them in to an iuner room. •" There goes my future wife— if she will i&ave me !" exclaimed the bachelor master of Greenwood, when he had returned her bow. ■Gerald Fitzgerald gave a scarcely perceptible start and looked at his visitor intently. Roy-al Grecnlcaf, unconscious of his ho=t"s fixed regards, went on speaking recklessly. " Jehosophat, King of Jerusalem, what a lovely girl this new heroine of my sister'n is, to be fen re 5 And how amazingly like the Fitzgerakls she is ! Don't you think so ?" " I — have not noticed any such likeness,"' answered the colonel. " Well, you look at her attentively the j next time you meet her and you will see it at once." " I should not like to be to rude,"' said Gerald Fitzgerald, sojnewhat coldly. " Oh, I don't mean thai. ! I don't mean that you are to staie at her, but look at her well, and you will peiceive her wondeiful likeness to the beautiful Fit/geiald •women." "She isccitainly not in the lease like Gcraldine or I'atiiciu/' said Colonel Fit/._gerald, emphatically. " Oh, I don't mean these younger ones. l{",o, she is not like them. Nor do I think — begging their ladyships' pardons— that their beauty is to be compared to the beauty of their piedecessors — your knely aui*i>, GerakV "AX ! I do not remember my father's sisters, Royal.'' " No, they both died before reaching the age ot twenty-ihe. Helena went first, then Camilla. This girl is the living image of Helena." "It i^an accidental likeness, then, or an imaginary one. I never heaid any one speak of it before/ said Colonel Fit/Gerald, as if he would have changed the ecu venation. But Royal Green leaf could talk of nothing else. " / never noticed the likeness, striking as it certainly is, until the girl was brought to Greenwood — for, indeed, I had teen AOiy little of her previous to that day/ " Yet she was brought up at Haddon's Ferry, and you must have ciossed the river at that point many times every yeai," said Colonel Fitzgerald, gravely. " I know it, and yet I scarcely ever saw that lovely gill, and mrcr near enough to notice her. I suppose her old grandfather, or rather guardian, Gabriel Haddon, kept her carefully out of the way of such a wild bachelor as I am reported to be.'' " I should think that quite likeh /' drily observed Colonel Fitzgerald. "But' l will tell you one thing, Gerald, If I had seen this sweet giil earlier, I should not be a bachelor at this hour !" exclaimed Royal Greenleaf, noddin' rtr chly. 11 That i^ \[ J. nfJ young lady could have been persuaded to accept you as a husband," said Colonel Fitzgerald, quietly. " Of course, I mean that." "But she is as yet a mere child.'' "Oh, she is young, suie enough; but that is a fault which must daily mend. And one thing is as certain as fate — Mi"-s Haddon shall bo the mistress of Greenwood within three months of this dftte. It she *''!! con^ tC !:!:: -oyal Greenfeaf < for better, for worse !' " exclaimed Gertrude : s admirer, rising and clapping his broadbrimmed straw hat upon his head with an emphatic thump. Colonel Fitzgerald bowed and waved hi 4 hand, with, perhaps, some little latent irony. " And now, if I am to see those people to-day and get back here by sunset, I really must be oif," continued Mr Greenleaf, drawing on his gloves, " Do allow me to offer you some refreshment befoie you go?" urged Colonel Fitzgerald. " Why, man alive, where should 1 put it, if yon were to give it to me? I just got up from a full meal when I jumped upon my horse to ride heie. No, I thank you. 1 could not eat another moisel or drink another drop. Good-day for the present," said Mr Greenleaf, holding out his hand. "Good -day, then. Tray accept my hearty thanks for your kind services to-day," said Colonel Fitzgerald, warmly shaking the hand of his eccentric neighbour. Royal Greenleaf hurried from the house, and a few minutes later his horse's hoofs were heard clattering away from the yard. The new master of the manor remained in the parlour, walking up and down the floor, until his attention was called by a low voice. , " Colonel Fitzgerald !" He turned suddenly, to see Gertrude standing within the room. She had entered so softly that he had not perceived her presence until she spoke. "Well, my child, what is it?" he inquired, bending his eyes kindly upon the sweet little face. " Miss Greenleaf has sent me to ask if you will not oome into the little breakfast parlour and take a cup of tea with us. " " Thanks, dear child— yes. Miss Greenleaf is very kind and thoughtful," he answered, as he stepped forward, opened the communicating door, and drew Gertrude's arm within his own to lead her into the breakfast room, Miss Sue Greenleaf was presiding at a small table, on which was arranged an elegant little tea-service, and many tempting delicacies. ii I am glad j'ou have been induced to join us, Colonel Fitag&rald. You must not really neglect your health," said Miss Colonel tf itftgerald bowed silently, placed his voting' companion in her chair at the table, Aktl seated himself opposite to her, wherG he could, without rudeness or offence, study the meek beauty of her fatbe. 14 No ; Royal is mistaken. This dear, '< dear child is not like the queenly Fitzgerald women ; her beauty is less earthly, more divine. But how could that honest brute my cousin Royal, presume to think himseli worthy to possess so lovely a girl as this foi his wife? I hope he will not really evei think seriously of troubling her with sucli \ a suit," said Colonel Fitzgerald to himseli I as he cab and furtively studied her face.

Miss Sue Greenleaf thought him very absent-minded, and {observed that he took a long time to drink a single cup of tea ; but she considered that ho had much to occupy his thoughts, and so, when he had finished one cup and refused another, she suffered him to rise and leave the table without remonstrance. " I wonder who she really is ?" thought CJerald Fitzgei'ald, as he returned to the front parlour. "A waif of the Wilde? The adopted child of the old ferry -man. That is all wo know of her."