For Honour's Sake.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXVIII, Issue 8102, 23 March 1906, Page 2

For Honour's Sake.

By Bertha M. Clay. • Author of ef Wife in Name Only," ii Wedded and Farted," "Dora Thornt" A Queen Among Women," " A True Magdalene," etc., etc.,

CHAPTER LIU.- Continued. "I do know you. I saw a [licture of you, not yourself; but I dare not trust ray senses." "There are all my papers yonder," said Arnold, or Fan court, pointing to a cabinet opposite the bod. "Hut lookbern; send for Major Langdale and Mrs Westmoio—they know me. I've met 'em in society, before I made society quite too hot forme. She'd know me! Stay! She's not on this—she thought me dead, as much as you did. Get me some brandy. 1 don't mean to die yet—maybe I'll live a few hours longer." Stewart rose like a man in a dream and poured out the brandy—bis hand was steady now—and gave it to the sick mini, who thanked him, and lay still for a minute; thou he besan again: "Of course I was in that Ir-riness about Claude Vomer and Tollemacbe. You know all aboi:f: that— I'm downright sorry; 1 was nil the time. She was the only one in this house who bad any feeling for me, and you'll make her happy. You'll want a magistrate to take down my dying depositions, eh?" "Yes." Stewart answered, in a suppressed way. "But tell me all first." "There's a magistrate auito close in Grnntley Road—Mr Nelson," said

Arnold, bursting into a sudden recklaß9 laugtit; "he'll know me. I've been up before him half a d»zen times —drunk and disorderly. There was a jolly row at the Criterion one night " Stewart pressed his shoulder. "Man! for the love oi! Heaven—" "All right! Well, I'll tell you ■why I got 'killed." 1 oouldn't Btand Pauline any more—you'll understand that—and 1 was over head and ears in debt, here and in Amoiica: also, I had been up to some trioka here that might get me into penal servitude if I was 1 nabbed. Sol slipped the leash by getting myself killed in a railway aooident." "1 had gone by the train—that WBB right enough; but I hopped out, left my baggage behind; the trafn came to smash, oars were burnt, and one of the oharred bodies was thought to be mine; that was the oompany'a doings—l couldn't foresee a smash. There was my bag gage to prove I was in the train; so the thing was done for me neatly. She thought I was deadshe's not too good for bigamy, tut she's too cunning, though she's fool enough in some things. Now you get the magistrate here, and," he half started up, "fetch Dr Giibson from Brompton Road; Claude knows the ntimber; he'll know me: he's got letters of mine. I can tell him lota of things he'll remembei. Let Claude como in while you're gone. I won't say a word to her, I swear. You see I sent for you!" Stewart pressed the wasted hand and rose. "Keep quiet," he said, "Snd rest." He went out fo the study, where Claude was waiting. He had no distinct comprehension of there being any change in their relations; to that first blinding sense of joy had succeeded a kind of stunned feeling. He knew, without realizing; that would come later. At ifeesent it all seemed dreamlike; it could not be true it could not! He dared not give bis spirits scope. It had grown •'rounded to despair"; and it was like the prisoner of years, abruptly, without warning, released, and plunged into the glare of the sun. "Claude," he said, as the girl started up, "go in and keep watch for a little while. I am going for a magistrate and a doctor. Give me the key, and tell me Dr Gibson's address." How strange he iooked; how Btrange his manner was! But she told him the address, gave him the latchkey, and went quickly into the sink room. The hansom which had brought Stewart and Claude from Pall Mall was still waiting about. Stewart drove first to the magistrate's. He could rouse up Dr Gibson, who was quite near, on the return journey. He did not want either man to reach the house before he did. Mr Nelson knew Stewart's name, and, quckly dressing himself, he accompanied the Scotchman, who said not a word as to the charaoter of Richard Arnold's confession, but only that there waß a dying man who wished to make a deposition, Calling at Or Gibson's oijly caused a minute's delay. | The doctor promised to come at once; and, two minutes later, Stewart and Nelson were at The Ferns. The former asked the magistrate to wait in the drawing room while fee went up to Arnold's room. Claude rose from her seat near the bed to meet him. "Go into the study,, dear," he said" and, if you can, lie down a little." / 1-Ie did not even touch her hand; he was putting a tremendous tension on himself. He needed, and inußt keep, his self-control. Claude went out to the study; and then Stewart returned to the drawing room and fetched Mr Nelson. Meanwhile all this time, Julia Dfivenant had not stirred from her room; she'knew that Fanoourt was dying; and, holding her door open and listening, she discovered that there were people going to and fro in the house; and by and by she became aware .that Stewart had come. What for? Had Fanoourt sent for him to disclose the secret of her—■ Julia's —past? If so, she was powerless. She feared to meet Stewart; she could not brave him; and, after a 11, what value would such knowledge possess for him? He was the last man to bound a woman down. So Mrs Davenant wisely chose the better part of valour, and pretended to ignora what she could not prevent. If Fancourt had any other confession to make it would not concern ber. Her career iu London was

practically closed; indeed, she felt a certain apathy about anything that might happen to her. The only certainty was that Stewart would at least be a generous enemy, though she was forced to see that he was not likely to go out of his way to j show her mercy considering her share in the conspiracy whioh might have cost Claude Veiner so dear. CHATER LIV. "MY OWN LOVI4--ALL MY OWN NOW!" , A strange group was gathered by the bedside of Richard Arnold. Mr Nelson, magistrate, sat, paper in hand, slowly and carefully reading aloud the deposition which he had just taken down. The doctor, seat a little in the shade, glanced alternately from the face of the patient to the pale, handsome features of the man who stood with folded arms at the foot of the bed. (To be Continued).