CHAPTER XXIII. DISCOVERED.

Te Aroha News, Volume VI, Issue 319, 24 November 1888, Page 3

CHAPTER XXIII. DISCOVERED.

During tho imprisonment of the Lady Nora in Yew Cottage at Condalkin, no prominent incident had occurred in the desolate life of the Lady Kathleen Bassantyne, at Ballyconnor. She remained much in her own rooms, alone or with her maid, whose companionship was her chief solace' at this lonely and sorrowful period.' She walked daily alone in her gardens, tall and fair and stately, richly robed, and envied by her people, but in her heart always crouched the demon, care. She seldom met Bassantyne, save at the table. He never intruded himself into her apartments. He contracted the habit of lounging in the drawing- room, which hehad to himself. He appropriated a pretty oval-shaped room, known as the cedar parlour, as his stnoking-r.oom, and here he spent hours. He catechised Delaney, the steward, by the hour concerning the Lady Kathleen's revenues, and tried to ingratiate himself with Mrs Delaney, the housekeeper, for a similar purpose. But the worthy couple were uncommunicative, referring him for the information he desired to their mistress. It was fully understood at the Hall by this time that the Lady Kathleen's marriage with Bassantyne had not been a love match. Her ladyship's maid, Mary, had let fall a few remai'ks that pointed toward the true state of affairs, for the girl was sadly distressed concerning her beautiful mistress and sadly afraid of Bassanfcyne. Nevertheless, '■as the maid knew little or nothing beyond tho bare facts of the fraudulent marriage, and as she ( forbore to tell all she knew, it was supposed in the household that the bridegroom possessed qualities that had appealed to the Lady' Kathleen's ambition, "such as lofty connections and great wealth, although her ladyship possessed both of these in such high degree that she could well have permitted herself to marry anyone she had' liked. But gradually a feeling against ' the master ' grew up in the household. The dark fane and sinister, gloomy eyes of Bassantyne repelled others as they repelled his bride. His strange ways, too', aroused the dislike and suspicion of the Delaneys. He seemed at times to be afraid almost of his shadow. He would look over his shoulder with wide and glaring eyes. He would start at an unexpected sound, and would swear violently at a servant for approaching him without noise. It was as if he expected to find at any moment the stern grip of a pursuer on his shoulder. These eccentricities grew upon him as the days passed, and still his valet, the socalled Murple, did not make his appearI ance. He took to reading voraciously the police items in the Dublin dailie3, almost expecting to find some notice of Murple's arrest, at the instigation of Lame Bill. , Sometimes he hoped that his fellow-fugitive bad been killed in some drunken brawl, and often he fancied that his late comrade might be playing him false and intending i to betray him. It was not a pleasant life, by any means. Bassantyne learned now, if never before, that the path of guilt is full of thorns. Not all the grandeur of being the acknowledged husband of Lady Connor and the master of Connor Hall, not all the satisfaction of riding a magnificent hunter thi*ough the streets of Ballyconnor and being greeted on every side with profound respect, could pay Ba&santyne for his-sleepless nights and anxious days. j ' He grew haggard and nervous and hollow- ' eyed. He loaded his pocket pistols daily,

firing them at a mark, and acquiring ,a deadly practice. He watched the post-bag with eager attentiveness, looking for a letter from Fogarty , or Murple, -as he preferred to call him, but the letter did not come. ' ' At last he grew desperate, One affcer J noon, as he stood by the window of his smoking-room, his shallow features work-! ing neryously, he said, to himself : ' This cannot run on this way much longer. If Murple intends to betray me, I may have to fly at a minute's notice. And what have I got to fly with ?' He took out; his pocket-book awd investigated its contents. They consisted of a five-pound bank-note, four sovereigns, some pieces of silver, and a tew half -pence. ' Not much capital to go to the continent with !' mused Bassantyne gloomily. ' I feel as if there was something in the. wind. I must sec Kathleen and procure some monoy from her.' He tossed his cigar into the grate, combed back his hair with hie fingers, tied his cravat anew, and made his way to the door of the Lady Kathleen's sitting-room. Here he knocked nervously. The door was opened, after a brief delay, by her ladyship's maid, Mary. Her honest face declared her surprise at this unlooked-for intrusion Bassantyne pushed past her roughly, entering fche pretty, warm-tinted sittingroom. The sunlight was pouring in a golden flood through one of the wide lacedraped windows. A low, red fire was in the grate. A few flowering plants were on a table by a south window, and above them hung a bird-cage. On a pretty inlaid work-table by the west window some sewing was lying, and beside the chair was the Lady Kathleen's low sewing-chair. The room, with its belongings, looked very pure and dainty to the restless eyes of the intruder. ' Where is the Lady Kathleen ?' he asked impatiently, with a stride toward the dress-ing-room., ' I want to see her.' The maid ran to the door of the dressingroom, holding it shut. ' For shame !' she exclaimed. 'To intrude into a lady's room in this manner ! My lady lady will not like it !' 'Where is she, I say?' cried Bassautyne, in a fnr> , making as if he would dislodge the girl from her post by main force. ' Where is my wife ?' 'The Lady Kathleen is gone lo walk in the park,' answered the mxid, alarmed by his manner. Bassantyne turned away abruptly, and descended the stairs. In the lower "hall he paused to get hi« hat, which he slouched over his eyes, and he then left the house and crossed the sunny garden toward the park. As he went, he looked about him on every side, as if expecting to see his maiden bride on one of the pleasant garden seats. Rut she was nowhere in sight. The park was, properly, a grand old wood, with trees that had stood for many generations. These had been judiciously thinned, their branches had been pruned, and the undergrowth had been zealously cleared away as fast as it had showed itself. The straight, columnar stems of the trees uprose from a turf such as can be found nowhere but in Ireland. The park, with its soft, umbrageous shades., was intersected by drives, and by secluded footpaths, along which rustic seats were .placed,. Bassantyne hurried into one of these paths, plunging into the depths of the park. Presently, in a secluded spot, where the shadows were thickest, he came upon the object of his search. She was sitting upon a low bench, her , hands folded on her knees, her face pallid with a hopeless, despairing expression which ought to have smitten the villain who called himself her husband to the heart. . She was not thinking of herself, but of her young step-sister. The letter of Nora's maid had aroused her deepest anxieties, and she was now considering a project of proceeding to Dublin to inquire personally into this amazing story of Nora's disappear ance. Bassantyne approached her swiftly and noiselessly, stepping on the thick, springing turf. • Lamenting your fate, as usual, Kathleen V he sneered, as he came near. The Lady Kathleen started, looking up. • You here ?' she ejaculated, making a movement to arise and depart. 'Yes, lam here. Sit down. I have sought you out for a private conversation — ' 'In this place ?' paid the Lady Kathleen, looking around her. ' Why not ? It is as p'-ivate a? that very pretty sitting-room of yours which I have just visited in search of you. No one can overhear us.' ' Very well,' said the Lady Kathleen, resuming her peat. ' I will hear you.' 1 Bassantyne flung himself carelessly at her feet, looking up into her face with his haggard, mocking eyes. ' Yon don ft «eem to hear of Lord Tresham nowadays ?' he remarked. 'Is it to talk about him you come here ?' demanded the Lady Kathleen, flushing with indignation. ' N — no — not exactly. But I admire a habit of confidence between husbands and wives, nncl ii is pleasant for me to discuss > in a humorous spirit these disappointed lovers of you»s.' The snowy brow of the Lady Kathleen contracted suddenly. Her face grew stern and angry. 'Do not remind me of the treachery that made you my husband in the place of Lord Tresham !' she commanded. 'Ah ' Tho question is, would he have been your husband if I had stood outside the old kirk door and let tho ceremony go on ?' asked Bassantyne, carelessly. ' Suppose old Mr Cowan had declared you ana Lord Tresham man and wife, would you not have been worse oft* then than now ?' The Lady Kathleen's cheeks flushed, and in a shivering voice. ' Oh, a thousand times she shuddered as with a sudden terror. '/That would have been worse,' she paid, worse ! It is better ns it is.' Bassantyne regarded his bride for some minutes in silence. Then he said, gravely and abruptly : 'Kathleen, you loved me onee — ' ' Never ! Cease to remind me of a girlish folly, which, God knows, I have repented in bitterness of anguish. Loved you ! As much as the bird loves the serpent that charms it. You must never taunt me again with that wretched past. I will not bear it.' ' I was not taunting you,' returned Bassantyne, seriously. ' I love you still, Kathleen, or I would do so if you would but encourage me to do so. I admire ypur grand and state!}' womanhood far more than I admire the arch and lovely girl. lam willing to try to become worthy of you. If you will only look kindly upon me — ' ' Let us talk sensibly, oy not at all,' interrupted the Lady Kathleen, coldly. ' You have not come out here to talk of love. You are troubled. What has happened ?' ' Nothing. Only this absence of Murple annoys me. He should have been here a week or ten days ago.' " ' Can he have betrayed you ?' I ' I don't know. I have fears. But how could he betray mo without -betraying himself? A reward has beon offered for his

capture as for mine, and he would be running his own neck into danger in betraying me.' ' I understand , that ,yours is by far the greater offence against the laws," said the Lady Kathleen. 'Cannot this Murpfe make some bargain for his own safety and obtain the reward also for betraying you ?' 'He might. Understand ovie thing, Kathleen, L-will never be taken alive. Capture means for me a'disgraceful, death,' said Bassantyne, gloomily. 'I do not think' they would* look for me in Ireland, least of all in this secluded valley and in this guise. Ido not intend to abandon this place until my doubts have become certainties. 1 have been a wretched fugitive too long not to appreciate such a haven as this. But I intend to be prepared for flight at a moment's notice. You must give me money. It is for that I have come out in search of you. ' 'I thought so. How much money do you want ?' 'As much as I can get. The more the better. 3 ' 1 have my pocket-book with me,' said the Lady Kathleen. ' I have just had a business interview with Delaney, and he has paid me a small portion of the rents. I have-not been up to my room since, and have it in my pocket. The "amount is three hundi-ed pounds.' Bassantyne's black eyes sparkled. ' Give it to me !' he said, extending his hand. ' With that amount I can fly anywhere, and at any moment. Give me s the money, Kathleen !' . - . The Lady Kathleen obeyed, giving him her purse. * He took it greedily, and deliberately counted out its contents.: Then he put it in his pocket, with a smile expressive of his deep satisfaction, ' I may not need it for flight,' he observed. ' It's a pmall sum, after all. for the husband of the Lady Kathleen Connor ! What is your income, Kathleen ?' ' About seven thousand a year.' 'Ah ! that is better than I thought. We shall share it equally, Kathleen. Of that we can speak hereafter. You must agree to settle a certain sum upon me, and it would be well for you to make a will, so that I may be provided for in the event of your death. 5 The Lady Kathleen arose, as she said, quietly : 1 I have already made my will. ' ' But not since our marriage in Scotland ?' ' I made it a week ago, since we came to Ballyconnor. My lawyer came to see me while you were out riding. The will, properly signed and witnessed, is in his possession.' Bapsantyne's face changed. . 'Of course you left your" property to me ?' he questioned, with visible anxiety. ' The estate not being entailed, I could | leave it to whom I chosej' returned the Lady Kathleen. 'And I have chosen to leave it, in the event of my death, to my young'Stfep-sister, the Lady Nora Kildare ! I know you too w'eU, Nieol Bassantyne, to leave my fortune to you. I know you too well to leave my own life unguarded at any point. While I live I will in a manner provide for you,' she added, with marked emphasis, * but my death will never benefit you. - Now I hope we understand each other !' ' Bassantyne reddened with anger. The Lady Kathleeu, without another word, turned and &wept into the nearest path, proceeding swiftly toward the Hall. Brave as she was, she J did not care to trust herself alone in that dusk solitude longer with thaj>' dark- browed sinister villain. • ' f . Bagsahtyneconfcinqed to recline upon the ..grass, and knitted '"his brow? in unpleasant thought. ' She suspected that I would do anything to possess ,my?elf of her property,' he said to himself. "•'•"Perhaps &he *vas right. But, by Jove i how gh'arp' she is ! How she has changed in the last few 'years ! She has grown as prompt and keen'and" decisive as a irian 'of business. And as she, has the whip-hand, she will never give me the half, nor the. fourth of her income. She intends to dole out to me small sums at a time. I wonder how much her jewels are worth !' r He took out a cigar-case from his pocket, drew a match on his boot sole, and lit a cigar, which he began to puff tranquilly, still lying in the grass. ' I could ' loot' enough out of the Hall any night to make me independently rich,' he thought, with half-shut eyes. ' And the best of it would be, that my lady would never dare have her own husband arrested for the robbery ! I believe I'll do, it seeing that it offers so fine an opening for my peculiar talents !' He continued to puff his cigar lazily. The breeze went whistling through the trees above him. The r oft sunlight stole down in specks, like golden showers, and danced and trembled on the grass beside him. The crash of boughs now and then told of the proximity of some tall-antlered deer, and occasionally a hare went scurrying by to some secluded covert. < But these were not all of the. sounds and sights in the dusky shades of the grand old park, There were stealthy steps creeping over the turf towards the little dell where Bassantyne lay smoking, the tread of a man who is afraid of being heard. They came nearer and nearer, and halted at last behind the trunk of a giant tree, where their proprietor, screening 1 himself, peeped out with stealthy gaze at the unconscious Bassantyne. This man was no other than the object of Murple's terrors, and the cause of Murple's flight— Lame Bill ! He glared at Bassantyne with a stare of a basilisk. Pie had searched Dublin for ,some trace of Murple, otherwise Fogarty, but in vain. He had made an excursion up into county Antrim on a false scent, but of course also in vain. And at last, in accordance with the resolution he had avowed a fortnight and more before, he had come down to Ballyconnor in search of the absconding valet. He had arrived in the village that morning, and had made cautious inquiries concerning Murple, but no one had been able to give him any information. ' He had then walked out to Connor Hall, and coming upon Delaney, the steward, had asked if Mr Bassantyne's valet had yefc anived, to which question he had received a negative reply. To his interrogatories in regard to Murple's whereabouts, he had been referred to Mr Bassantyne himself, who was, he was informed, strolling in the park. ( To be Continued. )

Where there's a will there's a way — to the courts. It is said that there are 12,000 Smiths in Philadelphia. The spirits of Maxwell and Preller'have been communicated with, and they report) thab they have settled their little differences in the spirit land. The Sabbath observance ' controversy turns on the question- Is it sinful to 'smoke and sleep on Sundays ? The bi onze statue of Sir William Wallace, unveiled by Lord Lome at ' Aberdeen,! seventeen feet high and weighs, nearly fiv ; tens. • , ,