CHAPTER LX. THE DARKNESS DEEPENS,

Te Aroha News, Volume V, Issue 236, 7 January 1888, Page 7

CHAPTER LX. THE DARKNESS DEEPENS,

The passage of the hours only deepened the gloom that was settling upon the soul of Gerald Fitzgerald. Time, in drawing him away from the distracting horrors of the wrepk, only plunged him in a more prpfound despair, • If, for a few moments, while in the o-enial company of Dr Goodwin, he seemed to forget the awful disaster which had desolated his life, it was only to recall it with renewed anguish as soon as he found himself alone. And oh ! ever and ever, his mind concentrated itself with morbid persistence upon one question—one quostion that ever and ever recurred with cruel pertinacity of iteration : „,<.• " Was Gertrude killed by the blow from the plank that struck her from me ? Or, was she drowned through my mad, delirious abandonment of her ? Was she the victim of an unavoidable accident ? Or am I, in etiect. a traitor and a murderer ?" And with this question ever arose the vision that must haunt his memory while memory, should exist—the vision of the young, beautiful pale face, visible for one moment, with its sad dark eyes turned on him— visible for one moment, and then whelmed beneath the waves ! Oh fwhat said those dying, eyes to him ? They did not reproach him. He knew that. They wore a look of sorrow too deep for anger or reproach. Dr. 1 Goodwin, noticing this increasing gloom and despondency of the soul-sick man, sought to draw him out, from himself —to draw him out into the life of action around them. ' But in vain, for Gerald Fitzgerald seemed to have lost all interest in the world. One day the worthy doctor made him a new proposal. He remarked, "We must fill up the time between this and the first of March, and I do propose that we shall leave London at once, and go down -to Wales, where we can visit quiet places of interest in a quiet way until it is time for us to go to Liverpool to embark on our steamer. What do you say to that plan ? '• I have no objection." 1 ' Very well, then ; we will leave London to-raorrow, if yow like, but before leaving London I really ought to run down to Norwood, to see the worthy market gardener and his wife, and have one last interview with them. It seems .really necessary, to d.o so. They may haveremembered some other link in the chain of evidence; or ehe recovered some other letter or other valuable document." " Well, you have time to go to : day. " Certainly, I have plenty o! time to go there and d 6 all I wish to do, and return to dinner. But— will you not accompany roe?" " Well, yes, if you insist upon it." " I do not insist upon it, but 1 greatly desire it.'* •' > ' " Very well, then j If you greatly desire it, I will go with you," said Gerald Fitzgerald, with an involuntary sigh. Having gained hie point in winning his guest's consent to move anywhere out of the orbit of his sad .thoughts, Dr. Goodwin despatched Jubal to the Royal Cambridge Hotel to ascertain from Miss Fitzgerald if she wished to return to America. He remarked," I promised when I parted with her to Miss Fitzgerald to take her back with me to her own country, if she should wish to return, and I will keep my' word.". > -' ! Twenty minutes' drive todk the two gentlemen to the London Bridge Station, ■ which they reached just in time to secure seats for upper Norwood station, where' they got out, and whence twenty minutes 1 walk took them to the market-gardener's little place. "It takes just one hour from Hollandstreet to Cherry Grove, aa this little place is called," said Dr. Goodwin, as he opened a green wicker gate in a low stone fence that divided the market' 'garden from the r6ad, and led the way up a gravel walk bordered each side with raspberry bushes, 1 beyond which, on the right and left, lay Vegetable beds already under cultivation for' early spring vegetables. t The house was a lovely, old-fashioned farmstead, with walls covered with ivy and verandahs shaded -with creeping vines, green even now in February. A door, on 1 the right-hand back^ opened, and a plump, fair, rosy-faced woman, really* n'fty-five, but scarcely looking forty, dressed in a bright flowered calico, white apron, white neckerchief and white cap, came out, smiling. • The woman placed easy-chaivs for her visitors, and invited them to be seated.' Then drawing her knitting 1 from her pockfet 1 , 1 she sat down and began to knit 'While waiting for one or the other to speak to her. 1 "I have brought Colonel Fitzgerald to see you, because he has,- within the last few years, seen your son-in-law, Adam Lackland," said Dr. Goodwin. , "Oh ! indeed, sir, that is news. But are you sure it was he, '. sir?" exclaimed Jane Robbins, very much moved. , ' . "Nearly quite sure. The name, the personal appearance of the" man, and some circumstances of his life which have come to my knowledge, combine to identify him as the same who married' your' adopted daughter, Magdala Haddon,'the heiress 1 of Gabriel Haddon, of Wilde county, Virginia." " Oh, sir !— oh, sir !— what did,he,tell, you —about his wife and child, sir ?" 'exclaimed! the woman, in eager, broken and faltering tones. , »'>• »v» v "- i , W*t££oi£-'i "He ,told me," began Gerald, speaking slowly; !■ and very 4 1 He>%ldsk'e > ? that he had lostfthem both many years ago." ' ' Oh, yes," sighed the woman, wiping the tears from, her eyes—" oh, ryes !to be sure, it must have been so. I might have known. it, 1 ,. It was foolish t to feel a single .hope 1 * that i it could have been any other; way. df ?Magdala—dear child—had lived>>* she hevep! would, hav k e: forgotten us* or neglected usv We should have heard, iroiri nherih every ■« month, f at ,least,. and seen hei*rievery t year..But it was, very cruel of<Mr<Lackland f not>;to.' write apd- tell us .of otir children^ Jate j ?for, ■ gentlemen j Jl and jfoy JJohn^ loved cthafc girl and : her; baby, as,muoh^asi*ifcfiheyf badsbeetf our .very ;6wn>. JSir* t*t*waßrvery h&td QhWcl Lackland not to write an&telteustthejfafcsof'.. <^ur .children s she-repeated, wiping. away f Jtfpw^ Jgr % $ooMn, ,%ue $ AiVffiltofr' , | ' r My clear, /good creajHrp, you should nob ! permit yourself ,7^PaKsSyPi, l l over an °^ v bereavement like that. You nave so much ijo b^«tharikfuki|&r/4ti^yo\ir own children, 1 fchajLyp^^ou^ejqicei^,,^^ m^i -yr well, thanks 'How well they were all donig^l %hbk no-

,thing," said the doctor, witti tho- viewi/of l arotfinc: away the woman's ihind from "the | contemplation of, her, dn6i trbuble'. ; ' ' ' ! ; ' ' l ■ " Well; ai^'ib is' Very kittjd of ?6u to asltj, • and I' thank' you. • Wejl, sir'; 'beside*! , Ma'gdala, 1 had only fflirte, of em^a^id, i named Jane/after ; me," '#ri $he , is s 'dbirig , well, ■ sir. • She" is married- 1 to J a' fisherman* ] at a placo called St. Margaret's Bay, on the I south coast, tiear .Dover, sir. Jacob, our* oldest son, named after my father, sir, is three years younger than Jane, and six years younger than Magdala ; and John — named after his father, sir. Well, sir, John is doing very well, too, though he has been visited with affliction. John is a painter by trade, sir, and lives in London. He married about two years ago, sir, more or less, and they have a' fine ohild ; but the mother turned delicate, and poor John he took her for a littlo trip .across to Calais. But, Lor', sir, coming back in the Messenger, the ship took fire. Sure, sir, you saw in the newspapers all about the burning of the Messenger ?" " Yes, certainly," said Dr Goodwin, while Colonel Fitzgerald bent a more eager ear of attention. "Well, sir, his poor young wife was among the lost. I asked him; • How was it, John, that you saved yourself and couldn't save her ?' for, you see, I knowed as John would a' died with her rather than a' left her to drown. But he told mo as she was in the boat with the women, who was to be saved first of all, and where no man was allowed to go except the oarsmen who were to row the boat ; and how the steerage passengers swam for the boat and tried to get in it, and swamped the boat, and so she and many others of the women on board were drowned before they could be reached. Oh no, sir ! My John is a man ! He would ha\e drowned with his wife rather than seen her drown and save himself when he could not save her." said the mother proudly. 41 Oh ! many a shaft at random sent Finds mark the archer little meant, And many a word at random spoken May sootho, or wound, ahearc that s broken," The words of the good, woman, spoken unconscious of offence, s,eeined to stab the bosom of Fitzgerald through and through. He could scarcely suppress a groan of anguish as he arose and walked to the window and looked out Dr. Goo&w n, observing this, thought only that the mention of the burnt steamer too vividly recalled Colonel Fitzgerald's bereaVement. To slightly change the subject, ho hastened to say : " But the child ! You say they had one firie boy. Was he saved ?" "Oh, yes, sir, I thank the Lord he was saved, and I have got him here at home ! He was saved, sir, and of all things in the world, he was saved by a young lady !—! — a young angel, I call her, and she is a young angel now certain ; for after saving John's child, sir, she was herself drowned. " But that seemed very hard," said Dr. Goodwin. " Well, it might seem so to our shortsighted eyes, sir ! But no one knows better than yourreverence that it couldn't be hard for her ! Isn't she an angel in heaven, sir V " Yes, I truly believe that she is ; but how did it happen that after saving the child, she lost herself ?" ," The dear Lord knows, sir! Idon'tl All I know is what John told me — that he met her husband on board the relief-ship, and learned from him that the lady had been lost." " For Heaven's sake, Doctor, drop the subject ! The lady to whom she alludes was Gertrude!" hoarsely whispered Fitzgerald, as he hastily passed the unsuspicious Dr Goodwin in his restless walk about/ the room. , " And hero comes my John now !" cheerfully exclaimed the woman, as she heard the latch of the gate click and the heavy step of a man come up the gai den walk. ' ' Poor John slips out here from London every chance he gets, to see his baby, poor fellow ! Well, here he is ! Come in, John JMJ M she added, as Robbins, the shipacquaintance of Colonel Fitzgerald, entered the room, and, seeing the visitors, took off his hat and bowed low "This is my son, .'onn, gentlemen; John, these are the gentlemen called to see me on business about Magdala Lackland, you know. Colonel Fitzgerald and Dr. Goodwin, John, pursued Mrs Robbins." John plucked his forelock and bowed very low ; then lifting his head, he saw and recognised his benefactor of the ship. "Why— is it— l declare !— So it is. Youi servant, sir. We were fallow passengers on the Messenger, I believe," said the young man, with some surprise and hesitation, " Yes, we were fellow-sufferers oh that illfated ship," sighed Colonel Fitzgerald. " Why !— My ! Were you there, sir, too?" demanded Jane Robbins in profound astonishment. , "Unfortunately, yes, madam," answered Fitzgerald. " Mother, this is the- gentleman whose wife so nobly saved my child," said John Robbins, in a low and reverent tone. 4 ' Well, well, well !" murmured the woman. "And so it was your wife, sir, and she -was lost ? Oh ! lam Borrier than I was .before, and I was sorry enough then, lam sure. 0 ? sir, do tell me I How did such a dreadful thing happen? After she had saved the chilcFs life to lose her own ?" " Mother ! hush !" muttered John Robbins, in a lovf, earnest tone. "Doh't you pee you put the gentleman on tHe rack? How can he talk about the manner of his wife's death? Why, /can't talk of—" His whisper broke down in a heavy sight, and- he turned away. ; Colonel Fitzgerald arose to take leave; but Dr. Goodwin had a few parting words to say. " One of the reasons for our coming here this morning, Mrs Robbins," he began, 1" was to inquire whether any other cvi- . dence of the identity of Magdala Lackland with the daughter of- Gabriel Haddon bad turned up?" ,»• ■ . '• "No, sir; not one," answered i the gardener's yriia. , , ' /> ' ' . 1 "Another of the reasons was , to let you know that we sail Jor New York" on the first of March, and to leave with you our American address, ■ in case you, should find anything to communicate to us, or should wish to write." '" ' ' ; "I -thank, you* kindly, sir." " Mother,"' here put in John - Robbins, "I forgot to tell you until this , blessed minute' that, brother-in-law John . Reynolds , saveditwo of .the passengers on the Messenger. . He was out in his fishing-smack; and picked up a' lady, and .gentleman — ?\ j > , ' ;" The Lord ibe thanked vwhen 1 r anyonej" is highly honoured and privileged so to do. Who'-were^the lad^^an'd^gentleftianias John t wa's : s6shighiy favoured tte % saye 1 ?"- n " ' Ui ' . 1 Samuel' ißatflihs," ah-' r swered'the yqurig mai^wh6"hd\v* stood' togs l^ ihgr His baby up* and 'down,t-an;d;< making iff* j lUSee; that how •! 0"! what haVe" r WdoVei %;defceiWstfch. l a"JblessinV'a& toHaVtf'-'tad" " feU^^reat'ures^aive'S' I u;fidw*thBfikf trl *&htl f * low humble -we ought to be, 1" - f " -\ > f^ ?"' v - Colonel Fitzgerald onpe-more .prepared to t ike leave. Dr..g*r3a^itfsbn'thiatodi»lftfdfeKollowi r d^s '! V Kow, my jaear Mrs JXo MJins. s yqu will writen ;"-■*•

„ ** tyx Bobbins j I trust thai; you will bear in ltiinU I am responsible for the nurture and ( education of the youngster youhold.in your arms," said Colonel Fitzgerald.' , ",,, „ { sk "Yes, sir; and* thapk ,you, sir)/ And: thank you for your princely gift. „" [^hadn't j ( a suspicion that there was any thing i,n that ' envelope but your address, until*after t r got; home, when I opened it and' found your ' cheque on Brown Brothers, bankers, for fifty , pounds. It was a most princely - — " 11 1 tbank you Mr Robbing; but you greatly exaggerate the trifling service I ! have been enabled to do you Good-bye," said Colonel Fitzgerald, offering his hand. 11 Good-bye, and God bless you, sir," fervently responded the man. Then Gerald stooped and kissed his infant protege, murmuring as he did so : " For Gertrude's sake." The two gentlemen bade farewell to the Robbinsesand left the house. They arrived at London Bridge in due fcimo and took a cab to Holland-street, which they reached a little before their usual dinner hour. '♦Miss Fitzgerald sent you a letter by my hands, sir," he said to l)r Goodwin. The doctor' upon entering, sank into his arm-chair, and began to read his letter. Fitzgerald walked restlessly about the room. " Well !" exclaimed Dr. Goodwin, when ho had finished Gevaldine's noto. "Miss Fitz j geralcl has written to me a few lines to say that she hears from our servant that I am going to America by the Asia, which is to sail on the first of March ; that she desires, above all things, to return to her native land j that she has only waited to hear of some friend or acquaintance, or some other proper person, who might be going over, and whose protection she might ask for the voyage, and that if I will be so kind as to afford her my escort, she will very gladly and gratefully avail herself of so good an opportunity to return home. She further requests me," said Dr. Goodwin, referring to his note, "to ascertain whether she can get a state-room on the Asia." " I fear that will be impossible," said Colonel Fitzgerald . ** I know that will be impossible," added ; Dr. Goodwin, emphatically, " for when I engaged our state-room there was not another berth left in the first cabin. We can give up our double state-room to Miss Fitzgerald and her maid. We can easily take one or two berths in the second cabin." Colonel Fitzgerald having consented to this course, Dr. Goodwin added, "Very well. Then we shall not return to London ; but after a leisurely tour through Wales and Cornwall we shall proceed to Liverpool to join our ship. I will write to Miss Fitzgerald this evening, tell her a comfortable state-room on the Asia has been secured for her, and request her. to, join us at the Adelphi Hotel at Liverpool, on the twentyeighth of February at latest, so as to be in time to go on board the steamer the next morning." After the two gentlemen had dined, Colonel Fitzgerald took a book and lay down on the sofa to read. Dr. Goodwin wrote his letter to Miss Fitzgerald and dispatched it by Jubal. Then he also settled himself, on a sofa, not to read, but to take his after-dinner nap. He slept two hours, at the end of which he was awakened by the return of Jubal with the second letter from Mis Fitzgerald. The doctor aroused himself, and read it aloud to Colonel Fitzgerald.' It contained but a few lines, expressive of her gratitude to Dr. Goodwin, arid her in* tention to join him at Liverpool on the twenty-eighth of February. " Well, Gerald, what do you say ?" •'I suppose," said ' Fitzgerald, indifferently, " that will be satisfactory," To be continued.