For Her Sister's Sake; OR, THE LAVENDEN SECRET.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXIX, Issue 8362, 19 February 1907, Page 2

For Her Sister's Sake; OR, THE LAVENDEN SECRET.

"For Her Sister's Sake " was commenced on December 20th.]

CHAPTER XXXlV.—Continued. "You!" he snid in a whisper. "Do you want to get nabbed? There's thousands 'd give their eyes to set 'em on David Garth. A reward is out for you; two of 'em—one by the government, and one is offered by her lawyers." The cab-driver put a significant emphasis upon the pronoun. David Garth's gaze evaded the other's. "I know," he answered speaking under his breath; "but I can't stop away. I don't think they'll spot me, though; it would never occur to those thickheads to look for an escaped convict in the gallery of the Old Bailey." Peter Crimple gasped. "You're not going into court?" he said. David Garth nodded. 'Why not?" he asked, fingering his pointed beard. "I've been there all the morning." .The cab-driver stared at him in amazement. "You're mad!" he whispered; "mad! And I'm mad—to be standing here talking to you. Me that's got to give evidence if they make up their minds they want me. My advice to you is, get out of England -while you're safe." David Garth laid a hand on the cabdriver's arm—Peter Crimple was already a couple of feet from his dangerous companion. "Tell me," he said, "do you think she'll get off?" The cab-driver slid out of his detaining grasp. "Of course she will!'" he exclaimed, and there was a note of fierce determination in his husky tones. "She must—there aren't twelve "men in London dare find her guilty!" And he hurried onward, to disappear within the witnesses' entrance. David Garth went in at the principal doorway and mounted the staircase to the gallery. It was full but the policeman at the door was indulgent, and permitted him to remain on the landing. "We shall have a faint or two in there this afternoon, sir," he. murmured confidentially; "too many ladies for this hot weather, and packed like herrings in a barrel. When one comes out, you can go in. David 5 Garth thanked him—in an accent carefully rendered foreign — and waited impatiently. An hour or more passed slowly, and then the officer's prophecy proved correct, for the doors were flung open hastily, and a feminine spectator was asssisted out, white-faced and gasping, overcome by the heat, the suspense, or the noxious atmosphere. David Garth slipped in. He was in the back row of the gallery, and could see but little of the court. The judge, the jury, the row of counsel, he perceived them in glipses between the heads and shoulders of those in front. The judge's bench was crowded with privileged auditors, some of them young and lovely women. Not a few were men of note —writers, painters, politicians. In the well of the court, toward the jury-box, sat a couple hemmed in by the lawyers. They were known to David Garth, as to his neighbours in the gallery, by rumour and by portraits in the press. They were Constance Istria and George Merivale. With them had sat since the opening of the trial his wife, Julia Lavenden. But at the moment she was missing. Suddenly a voice reached his ears —a woman's voice, low and tremulous. His eyes sought the witnessstand, and a thrill ran through him. His 'wife was giving evidence. Bowed and pitiful, yet still handsome, she stood there, hex eyes cast down, her fingers gripping the edge of the rail before her.

From where he sat David Garth could not overlook the dock, but it seemed to him as if he could see it and its shrinking girlish occupant reflected in Julia's eyes as they glanced now and again with tearful tenderness across the court. Nervously, brokenly, in the hush of the crowded place, Julia Lavenden was answering a question. David Garth arose to his full height the better to see the well of the court. A stout lawyer, with side-whiskers and a large, firmly-lipped mouth, was on his feet—Julia, Lady Lavenden, was being examined by counsel for the prosecution. This time David Garth caught the question and his own name. "Supposing, Lady Lavenden, that this sole surviving certificate of your marriage with David Garth had been regained and destroyed, would it have been possible for James Garth to obtain other evidence of that marriage?" "N-no." The answer was scarcely audible. The great counsel made a stern little gesture of doubt. "The existence of your child," he said; "would that have been affected by the destruction of the certificate?" A faint sigh stirred in the court, and died away. Julia Lavenden's reply came slowly, and there was an uncontrollable sob in the voice that uttered it: "We did not know that my child was alive." David Garth, listening to the broken response, set his teeth to keep in the groan that arose to them. The examining counsel spoke again after a glance at his brief. "You did not know?" he repeated. Juiia Lavenden shook her head, piteously. "Not at that time," she said; "it had been taken away from me soon after it was born. They though it was best —I was so miserable, because it" —she covered her face—"because it was not an honourable man's child." she faltered. The great lawyer steeled himself 'against the thrill of compassion that went through the crowded court.

By R. Herman Silver, thov of "A Double Mask,'' "A Daughter of My *lery u "HeldlAimvt,'' >( The Golden Diuarf," etc.

"Yet there were persons who knew of the child's birth," he said, "in addition to your sister —a doctor, a nurse, neighbours, and soon." '!■ v "Only one old nurse," answered Julia Lavenden, "and she did not know my own name." The examining counsel waited for a moment. "Did James Garth know of this nurse's existence and whereabouts?" The question was asked very quietly, very simply, but the listeners hung on the answer. Julia hesitated. The great lawyer saw it, and added with an ominuous warning: "You are on your oath Lady Lavenden." Julia Lavenden moistened her dry lips. "I—l cannot say," she answered. " Her questioner sat down abruptly, and there was a rustle in the court like a sigh, for the government had charged Winifred Lavenden with wilful murder, and in the last few seconds the very shadow of the scaffold seemed to have fallen across the dock. While the listeners still looked each at the other, a third voice reached the ears of David Garth. Edward Agnew had risen in his place. His tones, full, firm and reassuring, made a striking contrast to the bland, insinuating, address of the famous lawyer who had just sat down. "You have said, Lady Lavenden," he began, "that at the time when James Garth, as Garside, visited you at Lavenden House, you were not aware of your child's existence. How soon thereafter did you become aware of it?" (To be Continued).