The Scales of Justice

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXX, Issue 8546, 30 September 1907, Page 2

The Scales of Justice

CHAPTER XL.—Continued. "lam ready" Gilbert said cheerfully. "Can't you detail one of your men to come with mo back to ftaoi instead of " "That is exactly what I propose to do, sir," the inspector rejoi.ied. "Of coarse, you are as good as a free man, and your release will probably come to-morrow. Meanwhile, you will birp.ply be detained, you will wear your own clothes, and have what food you like to order. There has been a grave miscarriage of justice."

Gilbert thought so, too, but he decided to say nothing. He wondered if anything was likely to happen to him over the matter of his escape, and if any action would be taken as regarded Juan Garcia and his assault on the unfortunate warder. But Juan was in Mexico again on his master's business, and, after all, the warder had suffered no injury.

Meanwhile, David Belamere had gone over to the Moat House to see Flora and Mary, and tell them of all that had happened. The girls listened gravely, for it was a serious business, and the scandal was likely to be terrible. It was for her mother that Flora felt the shock most, but Mrs Cameron bore the news with Christian fortitude.

"I am not surprised," she said. "I c,-)uld never quite make out whether Bernard Beard was a good man or a great criminal. But I never dreamt that he was a man of this type. Two of my relations to turn out like this, Bernard and Ronald Cardrew, as they call him, and the latter my flesh and blood, too! I must bear it for your sake, Flora. Thank God that I have a good and pure child left to me." It was better than Flora had expected, and she was grateful. Mrs Cameron was a little quieter than usual, but she never spoke of her grief again. And, after all, the nameless sense of terror and mystery wa< lifted from the house for ever. "I cannot profess to be sorry," Mary Cawdor said, as she and Flora talked the thing over together by the side of the hall fire. "We are well rid of a nest of scoundrels, dearest; the scandal can never touch the fair name of your mother and yourself. And in a short time Winifred will be herself again. I shall see the smile on that dear face and the laughter in those blue eyes once more. I had almost given up all hope of that, Flora."

"That will be some recompense," Flora said thoughtfully. "And Winifred has been so very much better. She is quite another girl." "She has quite changed since that eventful night when she met Gilbert at old Anna's cottage. The shock of that loneiy time in the woods did much to bring her back to her senses; the interview with Gilbert completed the cure. By the way, where is Gilbert?"

"Didn't you understand?" Flora asked. "He accompanied the party of police that took Beard and his friends into custody. You see, in the eyes of the law, Gilbert is still a convict, but they say his release will be speedv. What have you told Winifred?'" "I have told her nothing as yet," Mary explained. ."I wanted to consult you. What do you advise me to say to her?" "I should advise you to tell her everything," Flora urged. "If you fail to do so, others may not be so careful. Besides, she must be told some timo. Go and tell her now. You will lincl that she is quite equal to hearing the story." It fell out exactly as Flora said. Winifred was a little confused and misty at first, but she speedily grasped the import of what her sister was saying. It was good to see the hot blood surging to her cheeks and the indignation flashing in her blue eyes. It was no child of feeble intellect who followed Mary's statement, but a beautiful, angry woman. "Did anybody ever hear anything so monstrously cruel?" she said. "Fancy anybody calling himself a man behaving to a fellow creature like that. But why did he do it, f Mary? Why did he behave so when j hu professed to be so fond of me?" "Who shall profess to read a complex nature like that of Bernard Beard?" Mary asked. "He wa« fond of you. Sometimes I used to think that he meant to marry you, and then again I am by no means sure. Perhaps it was your fortune—l cannot say. Beard is a man of indomitable ambition—nothing would be allowed to stand in hi? way; and Gilbert Doyle was very much in the way. Ho was going to marry you and remove you out of the sphere of Beard's influenc; altogether. Hence, Gilbert j had to be got rid of. You know how ' it'was done." I

Tears came to Winifred's blue eyes, but they were not tears for herself. "My i)oor boy!" she said. "1 say nothing about my own case because most of the time I was mercifully unable to realise the full measure of my grief. Bu. to think of Gilbert's feelings! Mar;., where is he?"

Mary explained what had happened, and V\ iniired said nothing'. It was all right; she was going to have her own true lover back again. There was no reason why they should not get married now without delay. It was later in the evening that Geoi'ge Drummond came over to the Moat House. He did not come alone, for Sir Devereux accompanied him. Naturally, the glaring scandal was the talk of the countryside by thid time, and Sir Devereux Drummond had made up his mind to put ceremony aside and mark his opinions of his tenants in a way that there could be no mistaking. He was a little anxious, too, to see more of Flora, > for George had confided his feelings,

By FRED I£. WHITE?,

[Published By Special Arrangement.] [All Eights Beseiwed.]

so far as the girl was concerned, to his uncle. r;:-; .;•

"I am coing to see my old friend in her own room, if she will be so goo;] as to receive me," Sir Devereax had said to Flora. "Mrs Cameron Las been very reserved in the past, but the must not keep it up with me. She will understand my visit."

"I am quite sure that she will appreciate your delicate kindness at its worth,"' said Flora unsteadily." It is good of you to come at such a time as this, Sir Devereux." "Not at all, my dear," Sir Devereux replied. "Besides, there is another reason why I have come here to-night, and that is to have a chat with you, if George does not monopolise you entirely. He has been talking to me, my dear. lam sure that you are a good and noble girlall your family are like that, and I have not forgotten, to my shame, that you stood by George when his flesh and blood turned from him. I am a happy man to-night, and I shall be happier still when I see George and yourself established close to me. And I should like to hold an heir to Grange Court in my arms before I die."

"We are going a little too fast," Flora said. "Is Sybil taking it well?" "Sybil has quite recovered," Sir Devereux explained. "She never really cared for that—for your halfbrother. There is another man who would have declared himself and married her before now, if Ronald Cardrew had kept out of the way. And he has taken to coming to Grange Court once more. He) is very gentle and sympathetic and forgiving, and Sybil sees it all now in the proper light. It is only a matter of time, thank God! And nowXtako me. to your mother." Geonre explained that he had been over to Greystone, where he had had n long chat with Gilbert. The latter was only nominally a prisoner, and was; detained on the governor's own side of the prison. There was very little doubt that the Home Secretary's order for his release, would come in the morning. It was a kind of comfort, too, to know that the Beard people had been removed to London, where their trial would take place, seeing that the venue of the offence was there. As Ronald Cardrew had made what was practically a full confession, there would be no occasion for a lengthy trial. "Oh, I am so glad, if it is only for the sake of Winifred!" Flora cried. "But it is a dreadful thing, George, that one who is practically allied to me should have been in this conspiracy. I feel that I shall never be able to look Sybil in the face again." "Sybil will soon console herself, if she has not done so already," George said. "And why should you be responsible for the sins of others? 1 love you none the less for it, Flora, my dearest girl. I have told my uncle everything, and he is quits convinced that I have displayed great wisdom in my choice of a wife. You musn't keep me waiting." Flora's reply was evidently satisfactory, but they said nothing for a long time, whilst Flora looked into the fire with Jier head on George's shoulder. There was a sense of peace in the house that night that Flora had never experienced before. It was nearly tea-time the next day before the welcome diversion came. The family party, together with Sybil and George, were grouped round the little gipsy table in the hall, when the butler announced Mr Doyle as if he had heard that name for the first time in his life. Winifred rose to her feet with a little cry, her hands went tremblingly out to the man she loved. Her blue eyes were full of happy tears. Gilbert could not speak for a few moments; the sense of the welcome that looked from every face touched him to the heart. It was such a vivid contrast to the life he had been living lately; the exchange of the grey prison .and the cold contempt of I the warders for the refined home-like atmosphere, the power to come and go where he liked, exalted him.

'lt is very good of you, my friends," he said, unsteadilv. "Very good of you, indeed. When'you look at me in that way, I could sit down and cry. My little girl—my little girl!"

Gilbert's voice broke, he could say no more as he took Winifred in his arms. She looked up and kissed him fondly before them all. Then he grew quieter; he told of his past suffering, and how the order for his release had arrived an hour before. The hideous past, he added, was blotted out and done with. "Put on your hat ami jacket," he said to Winifred, "and take me for a walk. I want to feel that the great broad earth and the blue sky belong to ms again, and fiat you are mine now and always." And together they went out into the sunset, with the sunshine in their hearts for evermore. THE END.