CHAPTER XX. AN INTERESTING DWELLING.

Te Aroha News, Volume VI, Issue 308, 17 October 1888, Page 6

CHAPTER XX. AN INTERESTING DWELLING.

Colonel Ma I'LiiSON receherl a letter irnm his wife, a day or two after Eveieb's return to Vuo de l'Eau, i>egtring him t • cmno bo Newport to join herself and friends. She wrote that she was* an odd one the party, and although everyone was very kind, she felt rather eii bur raised to be withojnt an escoit, which marred hei enjoyment very much ; if he could not come <4ie should return home. Everet mged hib father to go, and tlie colonel, feeling that it would be too bad to have his wife's holiday spoiled, decided thit he would gratify her, packed his poitmanteau and started ofi at once. Everet accompanied him to the station, and gu\ c a sicrh of relief as he Avotched out of sight the train that bore his father northward, for he felt that he could now pursue the investigations he was contemplating independently, and without fear of criticism. With his thoughts full of this purpose, he turned his horde's Viead again towaid home, but on ins uay he made a detour, taking a road which would lead him around by the old mill that has been referred to several times. He had not travel bed this way since'he vvavS a boy, and had almost forgotten how the place looked, though he u-ed to row upon the pond, and play abouo the dilapidated wheel, which once had lurne' the mill, while he had follow-d the stioam that fed ib for miles, in search of the pretty speckled trout that lay hidden in their daik haunts, beneath the tangled roots of the overhanging trees. The day was excessively warm, but (he trees with their luxuri mb foliage made a perfect arch above his head, and aflorded n delightful shade, through which the sunlight only came in chequered fleams, making quaint shadows on the gruss-iriown path beneath. Hundreds of biids on every hand made the woods rintr with their hweet melodies ; myriads of flies buzzed lazily about; the beetles hummed ainon« the bushes, and gayly-painted butterflies fluttered among the many-hue 1 flowers thai grew by the wayside. Now and then a squirrel would spring out ch.ittering from a gnarled and mos*>-grown trunk, and dart acioss the path or along the zigzag Virginia fence on either hanu, while occasionally a nu thrown partridge, started from its covert, darted deeper into the forest, followed by its bimid and clamorous mate. Ib wns a perfect summer day, and remote from the busy haunts of men, with the tender blue of the sky above, and the waves of golden light, that ptreamed softly on him between the interlacing branches over his head. Evei'et thoroughly enjoyed his solitai-y ride, and the lazy, peaceful life of bird and insect all about him. By-and-by he heard the rushing of the brook that fed the pond farther on. and presently he name to the shallow lord where, as a boy, he had often played and sailed his miniature boats. - He rode his horse into the middle of the stream, where he gave him the bridle, and let him diink his fill, while he absently watched the ripples and eddies which he made with every swallow., Then he, passed on, and coming up on the opposite bank, he saw nob far distant the smooth, glassy pond, and the old mill still standing on its margin.,

It was an oncienb and dilapidated building, black from age and neglect, but picturesque withal, for it, was almost covered with a luxuriant growth of glossy, darkgreen woodbine, intermingled witli the doadly night shade whose bright purple blossoms made spots of rich colour here and there among the foliage. Passing this he came to the miller's house, which was also empty and falling to decay, while still farther on he came upon a small cottage fairly embowered in vines, ,and brilliant with great clusters of the scailot trumpot-honoysuckle and purple wisteria. This also appeared to be deserted, and there was no sign of life any where about ifc : j still it was not dilapidated liko the other buildings which he had passed, and it looked as if, from lime to time, some careful hand had trained and pruned the vines, and kept the placo from falling to ruin. It had originally been painted white, with green blinds, and a neat fenco surrounded tho spacious gaiden ; but time and the elements had robbed it ol its once spotlescoat, and but for the vines it would have looked naked and foiloin. Everet rode up to the hitching-post, dismounted and tied his horse toil., unfastened tho low gate and walked up tho grass-grown path to tho broad verandah that ran entirely around the house. Every window was curtained, and every curtain was down, the front door securely fastened. The young man stood irresolute a moment as he observed this. ' It cannot be that anyone lives here,' ho muttered ; ' I am quite sure that this must be the Dale cottage, and yet it looks as if i b were inhabited.' He walker! slowly around the verandah, fcryinvr to peer in at the side ot the curtains as he passed the windows, but not a glimpse of the interior could ho obtain. Theio was another door at the back of the house. lie tried this also, but it was evidently bolted on the inside, for he could hear th * bolt 1 attic in its .socket. He shook it gently back and forth a few times, in an impatient for lie v. as very anxious lo know wliat was> behind all those clo~-ely-draw n curtains, when, to liis surprise, the door suddenly yielded and opened The iron had rattled from its pl-ice. Stepping within, ho found himself in what uppeaied to be a kitchen, for theie wib a cooking under the mantel ; a diossor filled with dishes stood on the east bide, and there was a small table, with one or two chairs, opposite. There was a door on hi^ lelt. Gros-ing the floor, which was covered with du'-t and showed the print ot every step, he passed into a small bedroom. A faded carpet lay upon the lloor. A bed, covered with a canopy ot mosquiro netting, which once had been blue but \sa& faded and discoloured with age and du'-t, stood in one corner. Pretty lace draperies fell over th^s window shades, and were looped back with broad satin libbuiis, winch were n\<o blue. A chei ry table ..nd a couple of wicket chairs completed the furnishing of the apartment A second door led into another room ftom this. Tim stood open, and, pacing thiough, Everet found r.imseli in what miT-t ha\ c been the parlour, for it ex tended the whole width of the house, and had been hoth richly and tastefully hi nished, although, of cour&e, everything was now faded and covered wiih dust, and had a look of neglect that was forlorn and cheerless There weie piefty easy-chairs and tempting rockei'o scattered about ; a luxuuous sofa in one corner, and a handsome tabie in the centre of tho tloor, coveted with a richly embiohieied cloth, evidently the work ot a skilful pair of hands, and the young man wondeied if Annie Dale had wi ought the beautiful thing. There was a small piano between the two front windows, a bookcase, filled with books by standard authors, in a coiner, and at one end there was a lovely wi iting-de-k, containing uumeioufdrawers and pigeon-hole--, ami every convenience for wilting A small workbasket, on m elaborate standaid, stood beside si pictty iccker by one ot the low fiont window.-. It w.i» a oainty ai'air, lined with cumson satm and garni'-hal with bows of libbon to match; a. id K\cut Maple^on could imagine just how the gtaeetul iigure of the fair gnl, to whom i. had belonged, had looked as she sat beside it, intent- upon &ome delicate bit ot sewing or embroidery. He turned again to the writing-desk, as if he instinctively felt, that this was m r >ie likely than anything el-e tocontun some inioimation regarding the former occupants of the pretty house. It was not locked. He opened it, lading theco-er out Hat, and then began pulling out the draveis and peeling into the various pigcon-i ole*» and compartments. They were all empty -so f'u, there h. -id not been e\en a scrap oi paper to tell who, in day* gone by, had made live of the con venient and elegint all air — jukl ho shut them up again with a sigh or impatience and regret, while a feeling of {."loom began to oppress him ; iheic was something \ery i reaiy in this house ; so completely furnished, yet so silent and desorte > v . A sensation ot guilt, too, began to intrude uncomfortably about him. it almost seemed as if the former occupant- 1 ot this home, although perhaps long since dead and passed beyond all things eaithly, were yot spiritually present at that moment, and were viewing, with leproachful c\e, this wanton invasion of the place that had once been sacred to them. He put up the cover, and was pushing in the little side rests that had held it, when a scrap of paper wedged in be.-ide one of them, caught his c\e. Something very like an elect) ie shook ran along his nerves at this discovery. He tried to dislodgo the paper, but it was \ cry firmly caught, while the tagged edges did not protrude sufficiently to allow him to grasp it with his fingeis. ; He drew iorth hi& knife, and, working ! very carefully, finally [succeeded in detaching it from its position. Upon examining it he found it to be a portion of a 1- tter that had probably been caught sometime, when tho slide was being pushed in, and the other part had been : hastily torn away, doubtless, by someone trying to lemove it from the crevice. lie smoothed ib out. with an eager, trembling hand, while his face gie>v white ftom the excitement of the moment. ' Can it he possible that I have found a clue otlapt?' he muttered, in a repiessed tone. 'J am afraid it will prove but a taint one, but it ur^ay be something to begin upon.' The following is what he read from that torn sheet of paper, which had been torn lengthwise in a very irregular manner : ' My Dicats An rceret that I have your mother. O£ cour you alone, and that the for life only, must, now coa unprovided Jor. My poor lit. nothing to comfort you, lor I kno cold words aro at such n ti heart, is wilh you. T sorrow with sible I would come to you you in this hour. But favour of you, Annie. Wo hay hie, and surely you will I want you to romain in your homo for tho future pnsfc. It is yours without ' You must not, ho wovor, stay- there i

not be safe, and I want ycra to panion : some one olddr tha bo a sort of protector to you. expense, Annie, for you know I have a right to care for you Inclosed you will find one your present necessities, and will make some perman for you. Write me at once anxious until I hear from ' Ever y Such was the fragment which Everel Mapleson found, and he read it over soveral times, his face growing whiter, graver, and more thoughtful with each perusal. ' At laxt /' he cried, striking Mr e'enched hand upon the desk before him. ' / have fell it coming, and now I will follow it. up. 1 will kaye no s'one unturned until 1 get to the bottom of the wholo matter. How tenderly affectionate this letter must have been,' he continued, with curling lips. c ITe sorrow* with her,' and would have come to her 'had it been ■possible.' He evidently wanted her to remain heie after i her mother died until he could come. Mean lime he advises a companion and protector, and does not wish her to mind tho expense,' because he has aright to (are 1 for her, and incloses a cheque as substantial evidence of the fact.' ' Why didn't sho stny here, 1 wonder ?' he pursued, musingly. ' Wliv did she go to Richmond to look for a situation as governess, or was thar. only a blind to cover her flight — to deceive him: There is a mystery about it. (Jan it bs possible ' He sprang to his feet with the sentence unfinished on hi? lip<* and began pacing the iloor with clouded brow, and his mouth drawn into a stern, resolute lino. ' She is dead though, if she was (luoihey Dale Huntress's mother — ami I am as certain of that as that 1 am the heir ot Vne de l'Efiu — for that woman, Margery, said that ho could not realise his loss when s!io died. But who was his father 9 — why was he. named Ueoftrey Dale? by whom and why was he abandoned in the streets of TSTew York ? There is some dark secret connected with Annie Dale's life and her disappearance from Richmond, and I ehall never re?t until I know tho whole story from beginning to end.' He continued his pacings and mutterings for u long while, giowi^g more and moie excited over the matter. His face woie a datk and troubled look as ever and anon he raided that scrap ol paper which he s>till held in his handand scanned those disjointed line--. At la-<t he folded it very carefully and putit safely away in hi 5*5 * wallet 'If may come handy some cay, e\en if the other half /•> wanting,' he taid, an evil smile curling his lips. Then ho set about finishing tho e.\pl ntion of the littlo cottage. Tliciv was a little hall leading from one end of the parlour and a rliyht of stairs conducted to the r -ccond Ascending lhe c c Eveiet found two comfortably turnisbed chambers ;ibovc, one of \\ hic'i had cvuiently been us< <\ for a ser ant's I'oom. -Retracing hi? step=>, became to the iront door,which ho found fastened with a spiing lock. He then went back to tlie kitchen when ho securely bolted the door, after which he pas&ed out the front} way, the lock into place with a sharp snap after him, as if in vigorous ptotest at hi& intrusion upon the mysteries which it had guarded for so many years. Passing out of the little gate he fastened it after him, then mounted his boia.o and rodo slow'y and thoughtfully back to Vue de l'Eau. ( To be Continued. )