CHAPTER III. A REVELATION—THE OLD 'WILL AND THE NEW.

Te Aroha News, Volume VI, Issue 335, 19 January 1889, Page 3

CHAPTER 111. A REVELATION— THE OLD 'WILL AND THE NEW.

Blanche was the first to speak after the master of the hounds hnd approached the bed. Evidently the man had nofc heard of his master's misfortune, or if he hadi ho had nob thought it serious;. bub now' gazing down upon the pain-marked face he saw something in its shadows which he had -nevei\ seen before. It startled him' and he turned a wondering glance upon" the lord's fair daughter. -*" . 'Dugald,' she said, with winsome sweet* ness in tone and look, '"we fear that papa is dying. Those dreadful robbers had him at great disadvantage, and now he lies^ith the blade of a dagger broken off and left in his body. The man who struck him came up behind him. Dugald !' — taking a step nearer, and laying a hand upon his arin — ' shall he — must he — die in the paipful belief that his sister's son attempted his life ?' The man started, and caught his breath, and his whole frame shook. Blanche went on : ' Dugald, you remember thab evening, nine years ago, when dear papa was shot at from behind the juniper bushes. You weie there ; you saw it all. Will you tell papa the truth ?' The keeper struggled hard to retain his composure, and succeeded in a measure. '.How do you know I was there?' he asked, trying to look the lady in the face, but failing. ' I know it, good Dugald,' she answered him, with a warm, friendly smile, ' because you will not deny ib. But, plainly, you were seen, and one who saw you, but did not see who fired the shot, told Colonel MacGregor, and he — the colonel — sent the word to me.' 'Who's Colonel MacGregor?' Garrow asked, in surprise. ' Surely, "Dugald, you have heard of him?' The man opened his eyes to their utmost extent, staring into the lady's face in dumb wonder. At length he found his tongue. ' Lady, 13 the Colonel MacGregor that the Laird of Garviemore was telling us about — the Sir Malcolm of Saint Andrews — is he our Malcolm V 'The same, Dugald — the very same. And now will you not speak ? Will you not tell to papa the truth of that terrible evening as you know it V t The keeper scratched his head and thought, and as he did so one watching him narrowly would have had no difficulty in determining that ie&r was one of the causes of M 3 indecision. The baron saw ib, and spoke : * Dugald ' — it was the first word from his lips since the keeper had entered, and. it caused him to start — ' Dugald, I know that lam dying. When your time shall come — when you shall lie as I now lie, with earthly scenes fading away — do not have it upon your conscience that you, bj r your silence, doomed an innocent man to suffering worse than death. If you have within you one spark of manly feeling — if you would do a brave and manly thing — you will tell me what Lady Blanche has asked you to tell.' ,'My lord,' burst forth the poor fellow, quivering with conflicting emotion, ' you should know that I would never willingly harm anybody, but a man may certainly be pardoned for saving his own life ; and that's what I hare done. But 1 won't fear longer. You shall have the truth, my lord — the truth of all I saw. ' ' He paused and blinked for a moment at the flame of the candle that stood on a neighbouring sideboard. Then he turned his gaze once more upon his master — there could be no mistake in its honesty — and went on : 'My lord, on that evening so long ago — Lady Blanche says ie is nine year3 — I had been out with Master Reynard, hunting for deer on the mountain, it having been reported that a large number of them had gone up from the far lakeside. But we found none of them. Leastwise we didn't get near enough to shoot -with any hope of success. On our way down, just as< the shadows of evening were falling, we heard a shot away on our left ; and Master Reynard bade me go and see what it was, but not to show myself, if I could help it. I went, and saw Malcolm MacGregor. He had fired at a deer at lortg range, and had missed it. I didn't know that at the time, however, but he told of it afterwards. I watched the lad until I ha-d seen him throw the musket over his shoulder and start down the mountain for "bhe castle, taking the path that led to the left of the juniper copse. I made sure that Tie had set out for home, and then returned and reported to Master Reynard. ' You will understand, my lord, that the. boy had a roundabout wa,y to go to reach the junipers, while we, on the direct path, were but a short distance off. Just as we came in sight of the thicket we saw you — yourself, my lord — going from the junipers towards t,he castle ; and at the same time I caught/sight of Malcolm coming out fr6m a pass about two hundred yard 3 away, his face turned homeward. I told Reynard. If I had struck him with my fist he couldn't' have looked more startled. Presently he caught me by the arm and threw me back, at the same time bidding me, if I valued my life, to stay there. Then he sprang: forward to the junipers. I saw him kneel behind a rock and level his piece upon your back, my lord — and fire ! You know how near the bullet came to you. As soon as he had fired he ran back, under cover of the Black Ledge, and joined me ; and together we plunged into the woods towards the head of the lake, and finally approached the castle from that direction,' coming up from the shore, as though we had just landed from the boat. And everybody thought we had come from the other side of the lake. 'You knovv, my lord, how a party from the castle happened to. be coming towards you as the shot was fired, and how Malcolm afterwards came out from the junipers at the very spot where the smoke had been seen by .those coming to meet you. You know all the. rest.' Several, times during the recital Blanche had laid her hand upon her father's brow, to -keep him from dangerons exertion. When the .story had been told he lay for a t^me, like one in a stupor. Afc length he started* aijd epoke :' 'O ! D v ugald ! How could you find it jn your heart to allow an innocent boy so long -.to puffer? How could you. lot me suffer, as you must have known I was suffer in gr ?' *My lord, I told you. I did it to save my life. Reynard swore that he would kill me if I ever breathed a syllable of

his connection with tho business. And you t know he would have done it. 0 ! it made my heart ache to see the noble, true-hearted boy turn his back upon us 1 And when he looked you in the face 30 proudly, and told you he was innocent — when he called upon Heaven to bo his witness —ah ! how 1 hated myself ! But what could T do? Had 1 so much as hinted to you a thought of tho truth, my life would have not been mine another hour. My lord, I have told you the story freely, yot, if you can bring it about, T wish that Reynard might not know thai I have dono it. Still it would bo his life against mino, for now. 1 should not fear to defend myself.' ; .-; .> The baron promised the" keeper that he should be protected, and after a few olhor questions had been asked and answered — answers, they were, which made it clear that other shortcomings which in tho other years had been laid to Malcolm's charge, had beon, in truth, tho doings of Roynard himself— af tor this Dugald was suffered to depart,, and very shortly Dr. Griffith was again by the bedside. v . Griffith had had long: and variod oxperi once in the hospitals of tho army. Ho was a man quick to perceive and quick to comprehend ; and, moreover, his knowledge of . iin&,tpn>y Ava.s as nearly perfect as it is possible for human knowledgo to bo. During the lato interview he had been engaged in studying the case from diagrams of his own drawing, lie now sab down, and gave a further time to critical study of the case, at tlic end of which bis mind was made up. First, ho would not attempt to remove the broken dagger-blade. He was confi- , dent that at least one impoitant artery had been severed, ov partially so, and the surface of steel was acting as a compress, greatly retarding tho hemorrhage. So, too, might the blade be acting in tho same manner with regard to the flow of blood from vessels. At all events, the following the surgeon kuuv : First, an artery had boon cut, and it was bleeding, though blowly. Second, fcheie was no possible way in which the bleeding could be stopped ; it must, in the end prove fatal. Third, the patient would live longer with the dagger-blade where it was than ho would if it should bo drawn out. The baron's breathing, his voice, the action of the diaphragm, and the feeling upon pressing the hand over different parts, as well as tho pulse, told plainly that the hemoirhage was going steadily on. In answer to the question of living, the doctor was willing to assuie him that he would see the light of another day. ' And," ho added, ' if you can keep quiet ; if you suffer no unwonted excitement, if you do nothing calculated to accelerate tho action of the heart, you may live through the morrow.' With that the baron turned an imploring look upon his daughter. ' Blanche, if I could see him before I die !' She could only promise him, however, chat if Malcolm should arrive at the village she would not fail to send to him his uncle'a piayerful message. • And,' pursued tho stricken man, with a great j'earning in his eyes, ' if I do noc sec him, he must forgive me. Tell him how cruelly I was deceived •' * Hush ! Dear papa, he knows all that ; he has always known it. He knows how you were deceived, and -oho did it. Bug i let us hope he may arrive. It would be a blessing to him for all the remainder of his life if he could receive your blessing before you pas 3 away.' Shortly after this Duff Martagh returned, bringing word that the attorney would be there by eight o'clock. Then the Joctor gave strict order that tho patient should rest until that time. More pillows were brought, and he was propped up in a sitting posture, with the upper pait of his body erect. Ho would soon suffocate were he to lie flab on his back. He was allowed a glass of wine, and ere long thereafter he fell into a quiet sleep, with his old servant, Duff, watching by his side. Meantime Blanche called her maid, and asked her to run down to the village, in company with her brother, and see if any further word had come from Col. MacGregor. Sho was to inquhe of old Donald Jarvis, landlord of the White Stag Inn, who was Malcolm's correspondent at Ravondale. Blanche's maid was Bertha Logan, a trim pretty girl of two-and-twenty, not so small when viewed by herself, but appearing quite diminutive beside her queenly mistress. She was happy when her dear lady was happy, and as faithful and true as friend can be. Her brother, Ralph, was two years older, and was engaged in the armoury. Bertha had gone an hour, and came back bootle&s. Donald had heard no further word from the colonel since Lady Blanche herself was at the inn. And at the same time that the old warder admitted the maid and her brother, he likewise gave entrance to the old attorney and his clerk. David Kirk land was the attorney of Ravendale, and the only lawyer, if we may except his clerk, which tlio town could boast. He came in with the baron and the doctor in the matter of age, being not a twelve-month, either way, from three' score. Ho was a man of ordinary height; but of wonderful rotundity, bringing down the scale at almost seventeen stone. Ho was a jovial man, a good liver, and was a safe and able counsellor. As for his knowledge of law, he certainly knew enough to answer all the wants of those who were likely to consult him. His clerk, Michael Lockhart, was as lank and lean as the master . was round and fat,He was a sandy-haired, yellow-faced man, very correct and methodical, with a smattering of law of which lie made great show amongst the lower classes, and some slight profit; The baron had'just eaten a fair meal and drunk a goodly measure of rich wine, as the old lawyer entered his chamber, and was, as a result, feeling quite like himself. Griffith had given the matter serious consideration, and had come to the conclusion that, if wine could give additional brightness to the laird's closing hours, it should noo be denied him. The greetings were quickly spoken, and preparation made for work, Kirkland having come prepared for all that could be wanted. After the table had been moved to the bedside, and while the lawyer was arranging his papers, Blanche crept to her father's head and whispered into -his ear, j asking if he intended to have Duff Murtagh remain in the room. She distrusted the cringing, fawning slave ; but not so the baron. Duff had been to him for manyyears like hia shadow, obeying more like a doer than like a man. ' Poor Dqff ! It would brerak his heart !' said the master ; and Blanche, seeing that further effort would- attract the attention of others, , turned away, and the fawning henchman remained at his post. / Kirkland,' said thebaron, when all was ready, • you know where the papers are that will be wanted. Here are th ; e ■ keys. Blanche lyill go with .you and give you help ifcyou require it,' - , The attorney took the keys, and waddled across to the great old cabinet, on the other side of the room, Blanche going with him, with a lighted lamp in hor hand. One of the keys set free the outer doors of the

uppor half of bho old reliquary ; then >a second key gave entrance beyond a second door within ; while- a third loosed tho lock of a drawer— companion of four others tha occupied that same compartment. This was a bottom drawer, and as largo as two of those above it. ' From- this drawor Mr Kirkland took i\ folded parchment tiod with a band of tapo ; then closed tho drawor, and tho doora, and returned to his seat at tho table. Tho baron's next thought^ was, to sond Duff to the door, opening into the hall, to soo that none- of tho servants wore eavesdropping. The passago without was found clear ; and, without fuvthor delay, ,thoy. proceeded to tho work in hand— *th'o making of a now will! "First, the laird asked the lawyer to i v oad the old will aloud. ' That wa3 the instrument which had been brought from -the cabinet. Kirkland gave- it to the clerk, in whose hand it was, and bad"© him lead I it, which he did. Suffice it' to say, afbor the usual fbr,nv of opening, and the giving 1 of various geuorous bequests to old and faithful rotainers, it made his \yo}l-beloyed Reynard Bevorn, &c, &c, his hdir, to inherit) h.is largo estates, and, with ' tho 'consent of his majesty the. king* .to boar,- bis Uitlo. It also gavo to tho said Boynard, tho liand ot his daughter Blanche, the marriage to bo consummated when she should have reached the ago of twooty years. Then followed certain conditions and stipulations, all bearing very hard upon v t,he daughter, in case she should refuse to become the hoir's wife. The baron had made the will when film in tho belief that Malcolm MacGregor had attempted his life, and at tho samo timo belioving that Blanche loved him, and would marry him if she could. He insti uctcd the lawyor to mako a new will by copying the old, saving only in this : where the name of Reynard Bovern occurred write — 'My loyal and well-be-lo\ ed nephew— son of my ,-istor Margai ct — Malcolm MacGregor,' and all forfeitures in case of non-fulfilment of the marriage contract were left out. ' Glory hallelujah !' exclaimed tho old lawyer, when the baron had spoken. 'Thank Heaven, your eyes aro at length opened, my dear old friend !' And he fairly wiped tho happy tears from his rubicund cheeks. The doctor had opened his eyes wondoringiy, but had said nothing. Now, howover, tho bai'on appealed to him. 1 Griffith, what have you to .say about it? 1 ' Bertrand '. can you ask me ? Do you not know that I never bolievecl that noble, generous boy guilty of the manifold sins laid at his door ? As for tho last one, tho worst of all, I do sincerely believe he would, at that very moment, havolaid down his own life for yours. 1 1 Bless you, Griffith ! Bloss you ! T was a fool. It is an old saying — * Theie are none so blind as those that will not see ;' and I am freo to confess that it was my state at that timo. Thank Heaven, it is not too late. I tremble when I think what might have happened. For more than a year I have thought of destroying that will, but ' Let me destroy it now,' crjed Kirkland, soizing the parchment as ho tnokc. ' I shall not need it in the making of the new, ' No, no !' said , tho barpn.," N engerly, at the same time putting forth a hand as though to take it. 'I must fchow it to Reynard. ]f Ido not live to do it I charge you, David Khklandi .that you shall do it. He has never seen it ; and 1 would have him see, with Im own eyes, the instrument which, for years, has beon my Last Will and Testament. But come, — wo are losing time. Procoed with the work. In Heaven's name, do not let my hand"fail me befoi-e you have it ready for my signature !' . . A good squares look into tho dog-like faco of Duff Murtagh when the woids had fallen from tho baron's lips to the effect that Reynard had never sopn tho will there pre&enfc, might have aroused meno than suspicions of mischief .somovvhero ; but nobody had taken such a look, for tho manhad hidden his visage by turning it away. The thought of how hh master had been all along deceived was too much for him to prevent its coming to the surface. Work was soon progressing. With the old will in his hand, the attorney dictated, while Michael Lockharb wrote it down. Ho had an ink of his own composition, which flowed on the surface of the parchment freely, without spreading, or smoothing, and without failing to leave a fair trace. Two hours, and little more, tho clerk's pon moved over tho parchment ; tho baron, meantime, drinking a single glasc of wino, and sleeping an hour and a half. Unknown to him, the doctor had administered, in one of his cups, a mild sleoping potion ; and it worked to a charm. At length, as the great clock in tho hall bolow struck the hour of cloven, tho will was completed. Bortrand, Baron Ravendale, nevor wrote his name more fairly, or ! stronger — with more of Ills old-time vigour and determination — than ho wrote it at the bottom of that will. The seals wore in rdace : the witnesses — Herman Griffith ; David Kirkland ; M»»hael Lockharb ; and Duff Murbagh, signed their names, — the latter really producing a hieroglyph that was recognisable, — and tho instrument was complete. ' Put them both away in the old place for fco-night,' said the baron ; ' and put tho keys under — ' c I will keep the keys !' interrupted Blanche. 'It will be better so.' ' Yes. That will be besb,' added the old attornej'. ■ And tho baron assented. - ,