The Scales of Justice

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXX, Issue 8529, 6 September 1907, Page 2

The Scales of Justice

By FHEB m. WHITF,

[Published» By Special Arrangement.] [All Eights Reserved.]

CHAPTER XXVl—Continued. "You can do no better than tell Miss Camci-un everything," Gilbert replied. "Sh'j is likely to be able to helD you. Perhaps .she may have learnt something last night. We know that the Dehsnere Brothers passed the night at the Moat House a • Beard's guests. And now you are aware why they came to England. It is a great advantage to know that. I shall wait here with all impatience." "And I will go back and see Miss Cameron at once," 'George said eagerly. Flora was just donning: her furs as George got back to Grange Court. The young man's eyes rested admiringly upon the girl; she had never looked more sweet and beautiful. And George was good to look upon, too. He was recovering from his wounds; he could hold bis head up before the world, and he had found the one woman for him—the only one he had met that seemed to fulfil his ideals.

"I will walk back as far as the * Moat House with you," be said. "In fact, I returned on purpose. I have something that I should like to sav to you, Miss Cameron." "Won't you call me Flora?" the girl said shyly. And the pair walked uown th2 drive together. "I have so few friends that I care for. And your sister calls me Flora." "Certainly, if you call me George/' Drummond replied "How strange it all is! I met you so very recently for the first time, and yet I feel as if 1 had known you for years. There is nothing that brings people together more than the sharing of a secret." "And not a very reputable secret at that!" Flora smiled. "Oh, well, it is all for a good end, Flora. W'e 'are working in the cause of *ruth and justice. If my misfortunes had not befallen me, I should never have been able to help Gilbert Doyle, and what is more to the point, I should never have met you!" George's voice grew soft and tender as he spoke. The speech was a little daring, but George was pleased to see the pink flush that crept over "I think that I am glad that we met," Flora said. "I am more than glad," George went on. "Flora, do you believe in love at first sight?" The girl's heart was beating fast. She was glad in some vague way. For she had had a sad and loveless life these latter years, and there was that in her that called for companionship and sympathy. Perhaps she had dreamt her dreams as other girls do, of a time when she would have a home of her own and the sunny presence of children. But that had all Joeen dismissed in the cold light of day as a foolish idea of what could v never be. And here was this good and

strong man making love to her. "I have read of such things," she murmured. "I suppose they exist in real life." "I know they do," George said boldly. "They "exist in my case. From the first moment that we met I felt that Providence had guided me. There was something so pure and good about you, Flora. And you were so kind and sympathetic towards me. I shall never forget that you held out a helping hand to me when everybody else deemed- me guilty. I could not forget that." '"ls there no such thing thing as mistaking sympathy for love?" the girl asked. "They frequently go together. I feel sure that I should have loved you even if I had met you in the ordinary way. I know now that I love you, and that there will never be another girl in the worid for me. I dare say you think this sudden, but I want you to know this. I want you to think it over, and if you feel tha* - you couM care ror me " George paused, he did not feel equal to saying any more. Something seemed to choke him. Flora, with a sudden rush of tenderness, placed her hand in his. "It is sudden," she said gently and naturally. "I have liked and trusted you from the'first, George. I wished that I could have a brother like you. and yet I didn't. But I fancy that you feel what my answer will be." "I believe you care as much for me as. I do for you," George said thickly. "Well, perhaps not yet. You see, women are different to men. We may imagine that or,e cares for us, but it does not do to admit it till he speaks. One makes mistakes, and then the feeling must be dreadful. But lam glad that you love me, George. I am glad to know that a good man has asked me to come to him and share hin lit'e. I have never been so glad in all my life before. And if I let my heart follow its impulses, you know where it will rest, George." The pure voice thrilled with feeling. Then George took the girl's hand and kissed it. "Let the matter stay there for a day or two," he saH. "Then if you can say that you i-;ve me " Flora might ha\ -" said so then and there and spoken r.u more than the truth. But she spoke, instead, of the troubles and difficulties that still beset her peopie and her mother. George swept all these difficulties away. He felt sure that before long the hateful influence of Beard would be removed. And as to the rest, he had a fair fortune of his own, atrl his uncle would give him a liberal allow- . ance suitable to the future owner of Grange Court on his marriage." "And that reminds me that I am talking in a very selfish manner," George concluded. "My love for you has made me forget everything else for the moment. I have just been to see Gilbert Doyle; he has had a most Interesting chat. with Marston,

who has told him all kinds of things. I daresay I can £ivo yon a fair idea of what he said, before we reach the Moat House."

And George proceeded to tell her all that he had heard from Doyle. Flora followed him carefully and thoughtfully to the end. Her face was very grave a" George finished his narration.

"This must be looked to," she said. "It seems almost incredible that such things could be ac the beginning of the twentieth century. I had not gone to bed when the Virginians arrived at the Moat House."

"Then you saw them?" George asked' eagerly. "What were they like?"

"Oh, they seemed to be very nice. As far as I can understand, they had lost their way—and Dr. Beard had offered at the Tower Royal charity dance to find them accommodation for the night. He said that he had met them years ago when he was on his travels. He introduced them by name. They are quite gentlemen, and of perfect breeding, J should say. They apologised very nicely, and made a deal of fun over their misfortunes. They were prepared to accept anything in the way of a bed, and as to their dress clothes, they did not seem to care, as they had proper motor coats to hide them. I rather gathered that they had business ot some kind with Dr. Beard and that they would be likely to stay with us till this evening. At any rate, they went into Long town to-day for morning dress." "Then you did not notice anything in the least suspicious?" asked George.

"Oh, no! That is, I did not notice anything at the time. But sin:2 you have told me your story, one or two thinggs rise to my mind. Beard seemed to be afraid of them; his attitude was one of armed neutrality, so to speak. And once or twice he glanced at one of them in a murderous kind of way. I have pretty well made up my mind what to do."

"I should like to hear," George said.

"I am going to be candid. lam going to interview those strangers and ascertain what they mean to do. I think that it would be far the best way. Don't you agree with me?"

George hardly knew what to say. He was determined to leave it all to Flora. Anything would be admissable that tended to get rid of Beard. Flora went thoughtfully into the house; a big log fire was burning in the great hall, the fitful light played on the pictures and the armour. One of the Virginians was sitting there, smoking a cigarette. He rose from the. depths of his chair as Flora came in, and pushed another chair forward to her. Flora sat there with her fur coat unfastened, the light playing on her face. "This is a grand old house, Miss Cameron," Delamere said. "It quite appeals to me. We have some fine old houses, but they do not seem to suit our character."

"A grand old house, indeed," said Flora. "But a house of sorrow all the same. I am sorry that you should have come here to add to those sorrows, Mr Delamere." A strained expression came into the eyes of the American. "] need not ask you to be a little more explicit," he said. "Would you please kindly explain?" "I don't think that there is much to explain," Flora went on. "I cannot tell you who my informant is, but I know why you are here in England. To a certain extent, you have my sympathy, but I hold that vengeance belongs to no man, but is in the hands of God alone. My relative, Dr Beard, may be a bad man, out that does not give you the right to become his murderer. It is a strange code of yours that allows you to partake of a man's hospiitality when the dagger for his heart is warm in j'our hand." The American's eyes flickered, there was a grim, hard line round his clean-shaven mouth. "We are dealing with a great scoundrel," he said. "Do you know that that man took our only sister away from us, the sister we loved so dearly. He took her away from us and married her for her money. And when he found that we had control of the money, he abandoned her. They had been married only a little over a year, and she was still in the first flush of her glorious beauty, Do you say that a man deserves to live who has been guilty of a crime like that?" "Perhaps not," Flora admitted; "but do not forget that in God's good time " "My dear young lady, you do not understand. If I talked to you all night you would not come to understand our point of view. It is part of our religion ; it is the training of centuries. That man abandoned his wife and 'lis little child. For the sake of tht mild, our flesh and blood, we held our hands. We gave a promise which we intended to keep so long as our sister lived. Beard fled with the child; perhaps he had a tender spot in his heart for her; since that day to this we understand that the child has been well cared for. She was well cared for with the Cawdors, she is well cared for here. I am alluding to Winifred, of course." (To be Continued.)