ONE IMPASSIONED HOUR.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXI, Issue 9054, 1 April 1908, Page 2

ONE IMPASSIONED HOUR.

By OWEN MASTERS.

or of " Nina's Repentance," " Clyda's Love Dream," " Her Soldier :.ovt:r," " For Love of Marjorie," " The Mystery of Woocicroft," etc.

CHAPTER XIII. - Continued. He gulped down the liqueur, and hivered. "It's no it'-a .n'-'tiiv;- morbid about it. Men art", a I: work, and will keep nt work the whole through, so •5 hafc a de.se :ut, i.'.ui bj made to-mor-row. What is it yon were going to t«!l me?" •'I don't know." He ran his fingers through bis hair. "It's the women folic who will suiter most —it al ways K«. " "Oh, that's been patent to mo for days and d'frys, and I wonder why you haven't tumbled to it sooner. Miss Linley is worrying herself into rv shadow." "But it is a common sorrow between us. I know how fond she is of father. I was thinking ot : Charlie Eastwood's daughter." Warren's eyes blazed. "That's juat it— go over to the enemy, and foul your own nest. Of course, you know what people are saying. And now you have borrowed •noney from the very woman Lord! it passes belief!" Allan was startled and angered by Warren's tone of disgust. ".Aren't you assuming too much? I may be a fool, Mr Warren, but I am not answerable to you. I shall marry Charlie Eastwood's daughter, if she wil! have me, in spite of everything !" Warren stared aghast. "What of Ivatherine Linley?'' "1 am not aware that Miss Linley figures anywhere in the transaction. "But she regards you as her rightful property. I understood that you had led her to believe " Allan waved him into silence. ■"You're quite mistaken. My father used to hint at something regarding an alliance, hut we never set eyes upon one another until a couple of weeks since. Kate Linley has one of those natures which overflow with affection. She worships father, and no doubt she is equally fond of me, because I am lus son. She is impulsive and warm-hearted, and may be shocked by my seeming caldnesy, Charlie Eastwood treated her a bit scurvily, and in consequence she hates his daughter. Whe goes frjm one extreme to another." 'lhen his tone grew tender. "We don't c insider the women folk as we should do. She stops indoors, and broods and broods, while I have a hundred occupations. I have positively been Unable to bring myself to believe that the worst has happened." He jumped up, and, thrusting his hands deep into his pockets, stared at the carpet. "I was in a happier frame of mind when I came home today than I have been since the trouble began." Upton Warren was thinking anxious! v. "You ought to tell Miss Linley what you have told me," he said. "I can't believe it—l won't believe it," Allan went on. "Mrs Eastwood declared, in the most positive manner, that her husband—and I can tell when a man or woman is speaking the truth in extreme cases of this kind —she swore that he had never injured a hair of my father's head." Upton Warren made an impatient movement. "Perhaps she knows," he sneered. "Perhaps she does." "I believe that you would shield the murderer for the daughter's

"Yes, sir; my father were there, sir." "So I have heard. There was an explosion—fire-damp—and great loss of life. How long was your father entombed?" "He was down for nigh on twenty days, sir. Nothing to eat, and nothing to drink. He thought it were duly a week." "Remarkable!" exclaimed Allan cheerfully. "He related his adventures to me years since, but I forget about the rats. How did he get on with those fellows?" '"Fought'em, sir," Hocking said, flourishing his hands. "He was bit all over!" . "Thank you that will do." Hocking retired, proud of his distinction. "Twenty days," Allan said. "No food—no water, millions of ferocious rats, and he is alive and well to-day. Hurrah!" He was getting hysterical. " The butler came to tell him that the dinner was waiting.. The bell had been rung at the usual time." "I'm not in the least hungry, Benson." "Miss Linley ,is quite alone, sir," the butler insinuated. "All right, Benson. I had an idea that everybody was out." He went into the dining-room, and straight up to Kate Linley. She was standing in a window recess, her hands clasped behind her, and under her saddened eyes detp shadows were lurking. "What have I done to vex you, little girl'?' He laid his hand caressingly upon her shoulder. : "I can't tell; I don't think I know myself," she answered, rather remorsefully. "I am so sorry that I spoke to you unkindly this morning, Allan." "Did you? Then I was not paying attention, or I have forgotten. Warren took upon himself to rsad me a lecture, but lawyers have rhinoceros hides, and faces of brass! I have shocked the neighbourhood, and committed a heinous crime because I chose to stand by Miriam Eastwood in her hour of trial. These people don't know that we were little sweethearts twenty yea r s ago, and in no case will I visit the sins of the father upon the child." They both sat down at the table, and toyed with the. food. "But the barrier between the two families is impassable now, from every point of view," Kate said. "I won't acknowledge it," he answered steadily. "All this circumtsantial evidence doesn't weigh with me. I have pulled stronger cases all to tatters more times than I can remember. Miriam doesn't believe it— Mrs Eastwood swears that it is false. And lam still hopeful about father." "But if—if—• Oh, Allan, if it is proved against Mr Eastwood? Surely everything will be at an end between the people of the Priory and the Red House?" "I suppose so," he said, his eyes contracting. "But for goodness sake, Kate, let us drop this. I will not admit it—l will not believe it possible in the very remotest degree until it is proved up to the hilt." "It shall be proved," Kate mentally decided. There was a period of silence; then Allan arose. "I feel like one stupefied; I must be moving—l must be doing something. I don't think any of us should be considered quite responsible for our actions under this terrible nervous tension. I will walk to the colliery; it will pass an hour." "I should like to go, too. It is hard to sit here, and do nothing but wait." (To be continued.) , , [

" sake." "I believe 1 would." Warren was carefully folding a newspaper round the blackthorn. He had examined tha deep silver band through a powerful glaps, and smiled wickedly. The stick had been gripped firmly si:c inches below the handle crook, just as a man would grip it when in the act of using great force. Three finger-tips and the palm of ■the hand were visible, rather spread and blurred, but Warren was satiafied. "I am going to Forrest's diggings to make a photograph," he said. "1 shall bo back about midnight. We

must get to the colliery just after sunrise. Good-bye for the present." "You will find me here. Oh, don't

grin in that idiotic. way!" "I am feeling a bit more cheerful myself," Warren retorted, "though I am piqued at having to play second iiddle to a parson." For a full hour Allan gazed through the window at the lawn, with its background of flowers and trees, and neyond, seeing nothing. His brain seethed, and there was in his ears the noise of tumbling water; the agonising suspense was sickening. "Thirteen clays," he said, aloud. "Men have livea longer than Hiat underground. The Tregaslin colliers were entombed for three weeks, and most of them were brought up i-live. There was the big disaster in France recently, and several men existed in thts mines fot nearly thirty days. . . . Euc they had companionship, and were in no way disabled, "h, I can't endure waiting here. Only seven o'clock! liow time creep:*.'' All at once he turned and rang a bell. , . t • j "I want to nee Hocking, he said, to the servant, who answered the summons. Hocking was an under-gardener, and he entered the library with a ceitain amount of trepidation. He did not know the young master veiy well, and be wondered what was in the air. He walked haltingly, and ■endeavoured to marshal his misdeeds before the eye of his bucolic mind. "You can ait over there, Hocking; I want to ask you n few questions. "Yes, sir." "Your father is a collier, I believe?" "Oh yes, sir." Hocking s mind was relieved. "You remember the disaster at the Tipton Hill pits?"