CHAPTER XXI.

Te Aroha News, Volume VI, Issue 282, 18 July 1888, Page 3

CHAPTER XXI.

LAST HOURS. There are some calamities that strike us dumb and powerless, like the lightningshaft. When Lady Strathspey hoard her husband's iootstops ringing down tho oaken stairway, she sank down upon the carpel, and resting her torehead on her folded arms, sab in a stupid, son&eless torpor, half unconscious o± the great calamity that had befallen her. In that condition Judith found her, when, aftor waiting tor hours to bo summoned, and unable to ropress her anxiety, she entered her lady'b room unbidden, and all effort on the girl's part to rouse her proved ineffectual. In her fright, Judith summoned Mrs Colonel Chudleigh, and she, in turn, summoned the family physician. But he shook his head, almost a& soon as ins eyes rested on the white, frozen face. The disease was beyond his skill, he could do no more than adminstor a simple stimulant . But toward night, ot her own will, the counters roused up. Very white, and still, and silent, she remained, but &he was clearheaded and conscious, and began at onco to make her arrangements for leaving Sevenoaks. Her husband had cast her oft", and sho determined to repair at once to her own castle, known as Aukland Oaks ; she was too proud in her injured innocence to make one effort toward clearing herself in his cyos, or regaining his confidence and afiection. ' W e shall set out early in the morning, Judith,' she said, quietly, ' and I want you to make all necessary arrangements ; that is,' bhe added, with a wan smile, 'if you intone! to stand by mo now in my hour of Uiali The girl burst into tears. ' "My dear, doar lady,' &ho sobbed, 'how can you doubt me?' 'I do not doubt you, Judith,' i-eturned tho countess; ' 1 trust you ; you are my one true friend and helper in all the world.'" The following morning found everything in readiness. The countess breakfasted in her own apartments. Her trunks stood out in the hall, her private carriage was oidcrcd. She made her explanations to Mrs Colonel Chudleigh, and charged her with the task of e\cusing her to tho few guests still remaining. Only one move task remained to her bcforo sho went out from her husband's home for ever. She must bid adieu to her children. Oh, bitter, bitter task ! The poor mother put it off till the very last moment. Her husband had decreed that they should be given to Lady Neville's charge, and they were to go down to London that very afternoon, in the care of Lord Strathspey's notary. He was lord and master of all, and nothing remained for her but to submit and obey. She crossed the hall with tottering stops, and tapped at tho nursery door. The Dundas woman opened it. Lady Pearl and her mother had just t finished their breakfast. i O, mamma,' cried Pearl, ' you are going down to London, too ! [ m so glad ! Lola said you wasn't, but you will go !' The countess drew the child to her bosom and s!gne r l to die nurso to leavo the room. She obeyed, with, a strange glittor in her dusky eyes* ' Mamma cannot q j to London now,' the poor mother began, choking down the aching misery at he heart ; ' but Lady Pearl bhall go, «nd ay awhile with Aunt Neville.' ' I don't -want to gc without you, mamma.' '±sut ycu must, darling. Mamma is obliged So -so o a journey now ; brother Anguo >vut (iO w*Ui \'ou, and papa will come soon :nd you vvv 1 sco the groat city, and have so many pec t / things, and play with Cousin Victor!, mid Aunt Neville will be very \ind te yoi Tho child grew somewhat pacified, and tho young hei c jtoo f l passive, his light, opaque cye~ Cvpessive of neither one thing nor the ?';her The ?ourte.=>3 fircse, feeling that in a few moments her strength an..l fortitude would give way. Src turned to the boy first, and Took both o . nis sallow cheeks in her hands. ' (Jood oyev A:'gus,' she said, kissing him repeatedly ' Ifi the years to come you shall su Coy no wi ong at my hands. Heaven bless you."' The ocy ieee verJ fche embrace as he did everything cl&e, w i ( .n passive indificrence. But litole Marguc :ile sobbed and clung to her mother in pas- onate sfi'icf. ' My darling, a iy Heaven keep you from harm,' murmuvc\ tho countess. Then, with 01 c last" convulsive embrace, bhc tore hcraelt away- !3hc had parted from her childtcn, perhaps for ever. Yot n~r step was firm, and her beaiing like iluxt oi an outraged queen, as &ho traversed the long conidcr. passing the apartments in ' which her hu&band ana his awyer sat, the doors double-locked. Judith awaited her is ih > hall, and the cauiage was at the door. Sho ontcicd it, end without one backward glance, passed out from the grand, oli manor, and under the branches of the giant oaks, on her way to tho home of her childhood— a disgraced and discarded wife ! As she rolled along in the yellow, autumn sunlight, a sudden lcmembrance of that awful morning when the strange apparition appeared before her, as sho sat under the great rock at Strathspey Towers, flashed across her mind. 'You shall be robbed of your titles and grandeur, an outcast, scorne I by your husband, and derided by the world !' 'Ah, Heaven,' flic murmured, 'how fearfully the tonibls prediction has been fulfilled ! TV hat meicile°3 afco is pursuing me ? What in all my life hivo I ever done, that all this woe and desolation should come upon me ?' In the meantime, tho Earl of Strathspey j was making his final preparations. | Everything had been ai ranged between him and Colonel Gilberl Verney, who was then at his sisfcor's losiclcnce, only a short distance from Sevonoikrf. Tho seconds had settled all tho preliminaries, and the deadly meeting was to take place on the following morning a I sunrise, at a spot known as Willow Ridge, a secluded place some seven or eight miles distant. Lord Strathspey knew well enough that the chances against him wore two to one. His adversary was a coo), strong-nerved man, an old soldier, and 1 x dr. ad shot. There was little hope that he would escape with his life ! And 1 in viow of this state of things, he was engaged throughout the day in closing up his earthly accounts and making ready for death and eternity. And calmly enough he did it, for, in that hour, Angus, Earl of Strathspey, with all wealth and honours, was not much in love with life. He mado hi&' will, providing handsomely for his daughter, and leaving everything else to his son xnd heir, save an annuity to his late countess, and fi ye' thou-

sand pounds to be deposited in bank to the order of J Judith Ford. His two children ho lefL in charge of his si&ter, appointing her husband, Sir Marshall Neville, as gu.'U'dian and execubor. This dono, in his silonfc and desolate home, he sat down and waited, wailed tor the slow hours of the autumn night to wear away, and the morrow to dawn, which, in all probability, would make him a murderer, iti the same moment that it sent his guilty soul into the pre&ence of his Maker