CHAPTER XXII.

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

CHAPTER XXII.

A GREAT VICTORY. Lady Strathspey and Judith, who \yu her solo attendant, took the first out-going train, and journeyed on as fast a,s r>team could carry them toward Aukland Oaks, in the county of Kent. A feeling of death-like apathy and despair froze the poor wife's heart as she sat in an obscure corner, her face thickly veiled, li\ing over again every moment of that last terrible scene with her husband. Not one bitter word, one cruel glance, had she forgotten. But as she recalled them all, one sentence struck hor with peculiar fot cc. ' Day after to-morrow I will meer your gallant colonel, and put a bullet thiough his heart."' For the first time its true import flashed upon her. Her white cheeks grew whiter, and her breath came in gasps. Did it mean a duel ? On and on they rped, the golden noon waned, and tlie dreamy autumn twilight began to fall. She would foou I'oacll the old home of her happy girlhood. But that terriblo sentence rang in her eairi • Day after to-morrow.' Thecorning moxning would be that day. Only one brief night intervened. One night more, and her husband, dear as her own life-blood still, in spile of all his cruel injustice— her husband might bel ying stark and dead on some lonely heath, with the stain of minder on his soul. She arose to her feel with a suppressed sluiek. 'Judith,' she whispered, in a strange, awed voice, ' how far is the next station ? < Only a little way, my lady,' replied the gill, looking up in wouder. ' I can see the lights from'the windows now.' 'We must get off there ; I am going back.' •' My lady !' ' Hush ! Have the baggage sent on, and ask no questions.' Her deathly while face -and wide, horrorfilled eyes frightened Judith, and she obeyed in silence. They got off at the little wayside station and waited for the return train. The autumn night was waning, and the stars were gi owing dim, and far beyond the purple hills the first faint tints of dawn were beginning to glow, when they reached the Penrith station, up amid the Cumberland hills. 'Engage the first carriage you see,' whispered the counte&s, as they got out. Judith obeyed in wondering silence. •Diive to The Odars, the seat of Lady Verney, and drive for yovtr life,' she commanded, as the driver closed the carriage door. The shrill claiion of a cock from some neighbouring farm-yord broke the morning silence. The countess uttered a faint cry. c Oh, merciful Heaven !' she moaned, ' it may be too late ! Diive fast !' she cried to the driver ; ' 'tis a matter of life and death ! Drive fast, and I will double, treble your fee !' The man sprang to his box and lashed his horses like a madman. They flew through the dewy English hills like the wind. And the countess ""pat like a statue, her hands locked, her wide, horror-filled eyes watching the reddening dawn. At The Cedars everything was as silent a3 the grave. Lady Verney's household slept well after their arduous duties. The grand bed masque was to come off in a couple of clays, and her ladyship and her attendants wore busy with prepaiations. A~\vay up in one chamber of the pleasant English country house a solitary light was burning, as it liad burned through the livclono- night; and in that chamber sat Colonel Gilbert Verney, in whose honour all this gaycty aVi display was to be. Very calm,' and cool and gentlemanlike was the Indian officer, as he sat there settling up his earthly affairs and making ready for the death that the morrow might bring. He had full faith in his own skill, yet he did not underrate that of his enemy. Lord Strathspey was a good shot, and pi-tols were to be their weapons. The colonel had made his will and written a brief, characteristic note to the woman who was to be his m If c, and a few lines of instruction and explanation to his sister, who was utterly igrorant of the awful event that was impending The rest of his time he, de 'Deed to making out a clear and concise statement of all that had occurred between the Countess of Strathspey and himself, in which he fully get foith'hci- purity and innocence. This clone, he arose," smoked his inevitable cigar, and glanced out at the reddening dawn. It was time to set out. Ho did not care to bo late on the field. He descended the stairs with thesame&cioncandsphinxlikcfuce ho always wore, and was in the act of letting himself out when a violent ring at the doorbell startled the entire household. The colonel opened Ilia door, and stood face to face with Lady Strathspey. He divined her errand on the instant, and led her into a small ante-room adjoining, the door of which ho locked. The countess dropped into a seat, breathless and sick from fatigue and excitement. The colonel crossed to the mantel, and poured out a small goblet of wine, which he compelled her to swallow. 'Now, Lady Strathspey,' ha said, as he glanced at his watch, ' let me hear what you have to say ; I haven't any time to lose ' ... The countess looked up at his stern, icy face, and her very soul sank within her. ' Colonel Verney,' she said, ' you are going to fight a duel with my husband ?' j ' I am !' was the laconic answer. 'And I have come,' she continued, her voice thrilling with agony, ' to ontreat you to forego your purpose.' 'Just what I supposed,' replied the officer, buttoning his coat ; '1 am truly sorry, madam, but I cannot grant your request ; and now, if you have nothing more to say, I must bid you good morning ! Ho strode toward the door, bub the poor woman sprang np and tin ow hor&elf at his feet. 'Oh, Colonel Verney,' she entreated, raising her imploring eyes to his face, ' have pity on me ! 1 am the most wretched creature in this world already, but if this , duel takes place I shall go mad! Oh, Colonel Vorney, have pity on me !' 'Madam,' questioned the colonel, a littlo impatiently, ' why ,do you come to me ? ' Why not make your appeal "to the Earl of Strathspey ?' ' Because,' she replied, with an unutter ablo pathos in her voice, ' because the Earle of Strathspey has cast me off, and forbidden me ever again to come into his presence — he would nob hear me — but, Colonel Verney, he is my husband, and I love Mm ; and on my knees I implore you to save him and yourself from the awful crime of murder !' The colonel, despite his cool self-com-mand, was deeply moved. His bearded lips actually trembled as he raised the kneeling countess and placed her in a seat.

' Lady Strathspey,' he said, ' this is very painful — I wish you had nob sought Jthls' I interview. I cannot grant your request; Your husband insulted me and then challenged me to fight him ; and at this moment he awaits my coming ! And you come here to ask me to back out and brand myself a coward !' •Not a coward, Colonel Verney,' shecried; ' a Christian — a man so bold and brave that>< ■he dares defy the pitiful estimate of men, dares do what is right, for the sake of his own soul, for the sake of a miserable, heartbroken woman ! Colonel Yerney, have mercy ! In the years to come, when you have a wife of your own, it will be a bitter dvcp in your cup of happiness to remember that you took my Misband's life, and sent me to a suicide's grave ! For your own sake, for my poor husband's sake, for the sake of my little children, have mercy !' She threw herself at his feet again, clasping his knees, and raising her streaming eyes to his face. He shook her off almost roughly, his face growing white .and rigid. ' Great Heaven !' he burst out, ' I'd ooonor be shot a dozen times than endure this. Let me alone, madam, I must gjo !' He strode past her, and, unlocking the door, hurried out. The dawn of day was in its glory ! The east one blaze ot gold, all the hill-tops crowned with purple mist, the sweet fresh air alive with rejoicing melody ! Something in this sweet and solemn beauty, in the twitter of the birds, the bleating of the folded lambs, the breath of the opening blo&soms — some subtle influence touched this cold, cynical, worldly man's heart, and he stood still on the steps, glancing solemnly around him. For the last time, perhaps ! In another hour his soul might be in eternity ! A faint, gasping sob, from the poor woman within, i-eached his ear — the woman he had loved so in the days of his impetuous youth. He turned sharply on his heel, setting his white teeth hard beneath his moustache. He was a brave man, this Indian colonel, but never had such sublime courage inspired him as at that moment. He strode | back, and into the anteroom, where the countess still knelt, her face hidden in her hands. | 'Lady Strathspey,' he said, curtly, 'I'll I not fight your husband.' | The countess sprang up with a cry of joy, and began to pour forth her thanks and blessings, but before she could utter a word the colonel was gone. And while she and Judith were being driven back to Penrith Station, to make a fresh start for Aukland Oaks, away out on the borders of the Sevenoak estate in a secluded bottom, known as Willow Ridge, a solemn group was gathered. The Earl of Strathspey and Jiis two .seconds, who were Colonel Chudleigh and a young guardsman named Putney, and two gentlemen, the seconds of Colonel Verney. < Everything was in readiness — the spot selected, the distance paced off, all the horrible preliminaries arranged, and, pistol in hand, the haggard earl stood in the solemn hush of dawn, eager to stain his soul wifJi the awful crime of murder. The birds began to twitter amid the willow boughs, the golden light broadened and deepened, and presently, above the purple peaks of the Cumberland hills, appeared the glittering rim of the rising sun. But Colonel Gilbert' Verney had not come. The earl strode up and down, gnawing at liis moustache in his fiery impatience, and one of the colonel's seconds mounted his horse and rode off to ascertain the cause of his delay. In a short space of time he galloped back, bringing the startling news that Colonel Gilbert Verney declined to fight. 'Curse him!' muttered the earl, white with disappointed rage ; ' he's a sneak and a coward, and I'll shoot him down on sight, like a dog !' 'I don't know,' mused Colonel Chudleigh; ' I'm inclined to think it required more couracfc on Verney's pait to give up this duel than to light it.'