CHAPTER Xlll.

Te Aroha News, Volume VI, Issue 279, 7 July 1888, Page 3

CHAPTER Xlll.

JN WHICH Till', IMiISR lAll-ih. But the earl was all unconscious, absorbed n his own bitter reflections. Strathspey, earl that he was, as we have said, was a trifle superstitious, and in addition, a little inclined to be jealous and over-exacting. And with all his profound pity and terror at the thought that his lovely countess was on the verge of insanity, he still ielt angered and injured because she had — even in her wanderings, as he believed — dared to have a secret which &he kept from him. He resolved to get at the bottom of the whole matter ; and a& soon ad he had seen Lady Cecilia and his family safoly quartered in their lodgings, he strode out of the house, and remounting his weary Arab, galloped straight across the Tyrol valleys to the shepherd's cottage. The old wite saw him coming before he reached the wicket, and, being a woman possessed of sharp wits, she divined the object of his visit ; and catching up little Romulus, who sat beneath the great oak in the afternoon sunlight, she whisked him oft to the cattle-shed, where her husband was, and was back again in the cottage door by the time the earl had dismounted. He strode through the wicket and across the yard, haughty and stern. • My good woman,' he beg&n, without salutation or preface, ' I have come here to ask you a question, and I want a straightforward answer. ' 'My ,lord, my poor tongue is at your grace's service,' simpered the old woman, with, a deep courtesy, chuckling all the while, in her sleeve, at the irate peei. 'The countess, my wife, was here to-day,' continued Lord Strathspey, waving af=idc the boat .she > ottered him, 'and I want to know what hi. c came for.' ' For a drink of new milk, your honour,' re&pouded the woman, glibly. t _ •

'Silence!' thundered the earl, growing black with passion. • I want- no prevarica-, tion. Tell me what my s wife knows of you, and you of her.' ' Why, bless my soul, your grace,' replied the old woman, her grey eyes all of a twinkle, ' I only know she is the Countess of Strathspey, ,and wife to your lordship, 'cause the maid told me the Fame, and aaked me for the drink of fresh milk, her ladyfchip being faint — that's all' ' 'Tis false,' continued the angry nobleman, ' and you know it. Didn't the countess come out to me, all flushed and tearstained ? Tell me what excited her so ; I've a right to know. Tell me, or — I'll make you.' The old wife fairly chuckled in his face. • My lord,' she said, *be ye the king on his throne, my tongue's my own, and no one, whether peer or peasant, can make it wag. Why don't ye ask your wife V The carl was well-nigh choking with passion, for, like all his race before him. he had a hot unreasonable temper. If it had been a man, he would have struck him down with the butt of his whip ; being a woman, he strode away and left her. But at the wicket, a second thought struck him, and he turned back. 'My good woman,' he said, taking a heavy purse from his pocket ac he spoke, ' I have strong reas >ns> for finding out what ib is that troubles my wife. I'm afraid her mind is impulsive — take this, and' tell me what brought her here. ' The old woman eyed the yellow gold with another chuckle. * I've nothing to tell your grace,' she replied, * and if I had, your gold wouldn't make my tongue wag no sooner than your hard words.' ' Curse you,' muttered the earl, under his breath, and striding back to the wicket, he vaulted into his saddle, and was on the point of galloping off, when a little figure, in a scarlet smock and plumed cap, shot up right before his horse's feet. The earl drew in his fiery steed, and called out, savagely : ' Get from under my horse's feet, will you ? 1 Rommie not under he feets,' replied the little fellow, looking up fearlessly at the fine horse and its wrathful rider. Something in the finely cut face, and great sea-blue eyes, and profuse flaxen curls, made the nobleman's heart thrill. He gazed down, for an instant, into the child's face, like one bewildered. ' Great Heaven !' he muttered, * what a likeness. 'Tis Lady Pearl's face over again. Little man, who are you ?' ' I'm Bommie, I lives widgrand-mudder,' answered the boy, fearlessly. 'Ah ! Well, you're a fine lad for a peasant's son — get out of my way.' And away went the baffled peer, like the wind, pondering moodily, and as he pondered, with the boy's face mirrored in his memory, a horrible idea flashed through his mind, piercing his heart like a poisoned blade, and almost making him reel in his saddle. [t did not occur to the Countess of Strathspey that she had forgotten to ask the peasant- woman if there was a birth-mark on the boy's arm, until after she had snugly settled in her chamher for the night ; and then her regret and impatience knew no bounds. She would have stolen forth, and made her way to the cottage through the darkness of the night, but for Judith, who implored and almost compelled her to forego the visit till the morrow. But when the morrow came, what was | the poor woman's con&ternation to hear that the earl had taken a sudden resolve to go up to Sevenoak (Grange, in Cumbeiland, for the shooting season, and had made his preparation to uefc out at once. It was all in vain that she begged him to defer the journey a' day or two, on account of her feebleness ; he watched her with a suspicious look in his moody eyes, and replied coldly that he would btart at once ; if she were able to go rambling over the fields to bhepherd huts, she could certainly bear the journey to Sevenoaks, and he was sure the Cumberland air would do her good. The poor couiitess was almost frantic, and watched in vain for some chance to steal out and make her way to the cottage, but the earl's eye followed her every movement, and in halt an hour the carriages were at the door. ' Never mind,, my lady,' whispered Judith, as she assisted at her toilet, ' when we get to Sevenoaks you can send me down, or manage it some way — don't betray yourself now ; my lord is already angry and j suspicious.' And with a pang of unutterable pain, the countess saw that Judith's words wei'e i true ; the face of the husband she loved a thousand times better ' than hei own life, was full of anger and grief ; the eyes, that hitherto had ever regarded her with looks of tendered love, now watched her with coveit and auspicious glances.