For Honour's Sake.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXVIII, Issue 8101, 22 March 1906, Page 2

For Honour's Sake.

CHAPTER LlL—Continued. The door was immediately opened by a hall porter, who stare i ut the beautiful young tfico on whioh the broad glare of the. gaeliuht within fell. She know bow her verv dress was against hor, for she. of course, had not stopped, when she was summoned by Benson, to change 'he picturesque robe in amber shades of soft silk shti was wearim». and she had caught up the fliet cloak that came to hand, which , buppeuerl to be a very handsome one, liuod with She felt her colour rise n<? she asked quickly: ' Is Captain Stewart at !in;ne?" "1 don't know miss; I'll see." The man's maimer was perfectly respectful; out he looked puzzled. He rang a bell near. "Stop inside, miss," he added. Claude did so, though she would far rather have avoi 1.-i I he light. "If ho is in," mlrirO, "please send word to him' u mo down atones. He is wauled very urgently." "Very well, miss " Claude—it is unlucky sometimes to know too much of tha worlddid not fail to uolico the "nun's "discretion" in omitting to ask for her name. With Captain Stewart she knew. such "discretion" was neodie&s; but the porter, of course, uctod on general principles. A liveried servant appeared and looked curiously at Claude. "Stephen," said the hall porter, "go and see if Captain Stewart is in -and tell him thore's a lady waiting to see b;ra particularly." The servant vanished upstairs. there was a minute of breathless susDouse for Claude, and then her heart leaped as she heard the quick, light step bo well-known, and Stewart, hat in hand, came illownstairp, and straight across the Kail to her. ; "My child!" he said, In a low tone, yx German, clasping her hand in his, "what has brought you?" She answered in the same language : "Fancourt sent me; he is dying. He wants to see you." Without another word Stewart led her out and handed her into the cab. - «' "Drive to the corner of Cranmore Road, Brampton," he said to the cabman, and sprang in after Claude. Stewart and his young companion ■walked quickly down the fifty yards of road to The Perns, and Claude opened the house and admitted them. "This way," she said in a low voice. "I had best go in first and tell him yon are here." She led the way upstairs, and Stewart paused on the landing, while Claude entered the sick man's room, He started up from the pillow. "Have you brought him?" he asked eagerly. Benson, sitting near the bed, rose up, looking very much surprised. "Fes," Claude said, "he is here outside." "Let him come in—alone?!" Claude turned to Benson. "Come, she said. "You can lie down a bit. I will call you if I want you." They went out together. Benson saluted Stewart respeotfully, very much amazed to see him, and hurried away. Claude laid her hand on the Scotchman's arm. "He wants to see you alone," she said. "I will wait in this little study," pointing to the door near. He kissed her hand, and entered Fancourt'B . chamber. The sick man was leaning on his elbow, his face turned toward the door, and the lamplight fell full on it. Stewart started violently, and staggered back a step, turning white to the lipa. CHAPTER LIU. A DYING MAN'S DISCLOSURE. Where had Esrio Stewart seen that beardless face, those close-set eyes, the nose just out of the true line? What memory was struggling within him, while that man's haggard eyes gazed on him? But the face he knew was younger, fuller; then this was worn and wasted by added years of dissipation; and death was close at hand. A photograph? Where seen? When? The man's heart stood still —-his brain reeled—the room, the sick man's ghastiy faoe, were all blurred and dim; it was a drawingroom—a picture face downward; then the faue looking up to him—the close-set, siuater eyesl Suddenly he sprang forward, he was at the bedside, his hand grasped the feeble withered hand—but gently; even in thitsupreme momont, he remembered that the man was dying. "In the name of Heaven!" ho said, hoarsely—was it bin own voice that spoke? "Who are you? Tell me your name?" The sick man looked into the other's burning eyes. The intense passion that quivered in the Scotch man's features, in his whole frame, seemed, by electrical to give the wasted, dying creature something of new life. He raised himself quite up into a sitting posture. "You kuow me then?" he said, in a strange, way. "You have seen me before?" "Don't trifle with me! For Heaven's take answer me. Why am 1 here?" "Because I wanted to tell you what you'd give a good deal to know. I am Richard Arnold!" "Richard Arnold!" Stewart Btarted erect like a man shot, pressing his band to bis heart; then he dropped ou bis knee by the couch; in the agony of his hope and dread the dr-ops started out on bis brow, his breath came like a sob; his dark eyes searched the ashen face,' no paler than his own, as if he would

By Bertha M. Clay. Author of " Wife in Name Only," il Wedded and Parted," "Dora Thome," "A Queen Amona Women," " J True Magdalene," etc., etc.,

/ drag forth the dying man's soul and bare it to his own. tie had no voice in this terrible moment; it was only a whisper that fell from his lips. "I know your faco—l saw it once; but I dare not trust—it might bo some etraugo liueness. As you are a dyiug man, is this true—-are you Pauliue Arnold's husband?" Fancourt put his hand on the other's arm. "I'm her husband," ho said, "as truly as you are not. I've nothing to gain by a lie. 1 don't want your money. I shall be a dead man in a few hours." He stopped; the brief energy of excitement was beginning to ebb. Stewart bo*>ed his head in uncontrollable emotion; his whole being was shaken, convulsed by this revelation; it was for him the upheaval of the unirorse; nay, it meant so much for him, the truth would be so glorious that in very terror his spirit questioned. It could not be—it was not possible! He looked up—ho struggled for selfoouhi and. j "You have proofs?" he said. A half mockmc smile oamo over the sick mau'o faoe. "Proof enough," ho said; "if J i were to go out in the streets as I am now 1 should be better known than cared for. That's , why I shaved. I thought you might know ce." (To bo Continued).