A GREAT WRONG, Or, The Mystery of Black Hollow Grange.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 9991, 10 March 1910, Page 2

A GREAT WRONG, Or, The Mystery of Black Hollow Grange.

CHaPTER I. —Continued

'1 used to tell you what a grand | lady you should be; and a disagree- i able time you have had following me i to this distant land. Poor little Jennie! poor little mother! Ihavekibsed every tear-blot on your letter. I cannot deny you. The boy is yours; do with him as you will I have no faith in,the scheme, however; it will amount to nothing; but your whim will be gratified.' Pretty little Mrs Trevethon received i and read this answer with a swelling: heart; and one month thereafter the 'fairy wedding' took place. The tiny bride and bridegroom were most solemnly wedded, and pronounced man ana wife! Then, having won her husband to consent to this important ceremony, the pretty wife essayed to achieve even yet a greater victory ; she hoped to induce him to resign his commissision, come home to Lvndith Hail, and live in ease and splendor, instead of grilling alive under the fiery skies of India. But this second request was absolutely refused. She received a brief and almost stern reply, in which the dead baronet's banished son expressed his determination uever to set loot on Englist) soii again; and bade his wifß return at once to him m India, and bring his son with her. The dutiful wife did not dream of disobedience. It was hard to resign her hope that the two betrothed children might be reared together; but she loved her husband, /and his lightest word was her law. With her father's fortune, and her son Richmond, .she sailed for the East, and little Lenore was left alone at the old ancestral mansion, weariflg„the tiny marriage ring upon her [ dimpled finger. CHAPTER 11. A STRANGE PRESENTIMENT." The good ship Nautilus/homeward bound, after a long and stormy voyage, was at last nearing the British shores. It had blown hard for twenty-four hours,, and the sea ran high; and now, with the night, came down a dense fog, blending sky and water in one dense mans. To make matters worse, the vessel was in incompetent hands. Captain Danvers had sickened and died, and his successor in command was most untortunately an ignorant/incapable fellow; knowing little of the task he had in hand, and being withal too stubborn and conceited to be advised by older and wiser seamen. Hence the good ship and her crew were in imminent danger; for, despite all remonstrance, Captain Leonards would persist in letting the ship drift toward the French shores, instead of heading her toward pld England. As the sun went down, the crew and passengers, summoned by the slowly tolling bell, assembled on deck to witness that most solemn ceremony, a burial at sea. The dead man was one of the passengers; and in the face of foul weather and a possible gale, the captain had decided to commit him to the deep without longer delay. 'A wise conclusion,' growled an old and experienced tar; 'no time to bother with the dead, if ye take care o' the living. This is no weather to be driving ahead in this happy-go-j lucky fastiion. The first thing you 1 know, captain, we'll be hard and ' fast on the French shore, j But the captain silenced him with , an oath and a brutal threat to 'throw him into the sea if he did not hold i his tongue. The French shores, indeed! We are nearer Yarmouth sands j than France.' |. The oid sailor laughed grimly, and the Nautilus kept her flying course, and the burial service went on. The dead man lay on de*:k, sewed up in his hammock, all ready to be lowered into his fathomless grave. An Englishman i<obly born, the son of a wealthy North country baronet; he had served for years in the army abroad, and was how retiifhiiig to England under an assumed name. Not a soul, however, on board the Nautilus knew aught of this save one man, This man, Andrew Bruce by name had known Colonel Peyton in India, and the slight acquaintance ripened into s. sort of friendship during the homeward voyage. Bruce was a pleasant, amiable person, and he endeavoured to make himself unobtrusively useful and agreeable to the silent and sad faced officer. The two men seemed to be mutually attracted toward each other. Wherever you saw the colonel, Bruce was at his side; and there was such a curious likeness between the two thar the sailors often spoke of the remarkable resemblance, and used to call Bruce, Colonel Peyton's ' double One day when they were far out at sea, it chanced that the colonels double did him an invaluable serv,ice. The officer had with him his only child, a little boy some seven or (eight years old. His wife was dead and buried in a foreign land, and the care of the child devolved entirely on the father.

BY EMMA. GARRISON JONESAuthor oi "Felf and Power," "Strathirore's Sin," Etc, etc.

E3e was a bright, restless httle fellow, always on the wing, and one sui.ny morning, in his exuberant playfulness, he leaped upon the bul- ! warks and toppled over into the j The father did not notice the acci - dent, and was ignorant of what had happened till he heard the agonised cries of those who had witnessed it, and missed his son. Before the father could make a step toward saving him, Bruce was in the sea, and in a few minutes had rescued the dripping lad safe and sound. Colonel Peyton, of course, was overwhelmed with gratitude. He grasped his friend's hand, with tears in his eyes, and invited him to his stateroom. 'You have done me a service, Mr Bruce,' he began, when they were seated, 'that I can never repay, and instead of offering you a reward I am going to ask you to do me yet another favour.' Mr Bruce expressed himself as being heartily willing to do anything in his power, and the colonel went on, a strange pallor in his face, a dreamy look in his sad eyes. 'I am on my way to England, as you know; but, Bruce, I shall never reach there. Before tlie voyage is over I shall anchor in another port. In other words, my friend, I am going to die, and my dying hour is very near. There, do not look incredulous. lam not a lunatic, my mind is as sound as yours, and I tell you it is true. I was seizad with the presentiment months ago, the black shadow of Death has hung over me, coming nearer and nearer | every day. It is awfully near now. | Bruce, and I cannot banish the be- ! lief that I shall never see old England again.' 'My dear friend, this i>s surely a delusion,' cried the other. 'You should consult the physician at once.' But the officer made an impatient gesture. 'No, Bruce; spare your breath, my good fellow. All the doctors in 1 Christendom could not avert my " doom. But we will drop that and 1 come to the point in question.' 'My little son,' he added, his voice I faltering, will be utterly friendless when I go. Bruce, you saved his life. 1 Will you take him home to my people 1 in England?' 'I will, Colonel Peyton, on my ' word. But allow me to hope, sir ' 1 'Never mind. I know what you would say, Bruce. If I live, all right; b but if 1 die, you will take care of my f boy'? J 'I will, sir.' ' 'Give me your hand, Bruce, and * now hear the secret I have to tell. B My name is not Peyton, but Tre- ] vethon. lam the late Sir Geoffrey 1 Trevethon's only son, and heir to the ® baronetcy!' ® Bruce gave a quick start, but there was a strange, sinister gleam in hit blue-gray eyes which seemed to say: p 'I have long suspected this.' e The colonel did not notice this, however, and continued: 'I had a reason for leaving my father's house and renouncing my father's name, but promised my wife on her deathbed that her son should go home to my people. Poor little fellow, I wish I might live to redeem my word to his dead mother; but you will do it. Bruce. You will take him to my cousin, Arthur Trevethon, Lyndith Hall, Northumberland?' 'I will, sir.' 'I have sent some of my papers on, and my cousin Arthur looks for my coming. You will only have to 1 give the boy into his hands; he will \ know what to do. There are some 1 letters on my table 'y° nder ; take " them with you, and the little money 3 I leave behind. And this ring, Bruce, give it to Arthur. He will 3 know that 1 sent you, and will re- » ward you for your services.' J 'I don't ask for any reward, ' colonel.' 'No, but you deserve one. Now, " Bruce, give me your hand again, and * your promise to care well for the lad, 3 and to deliver him safe into my cou- * sin's keeping.' 3 The Qther extended his hand, which the officer warmly grasped. 5 'I solemnly promise, sir,' he an--2 swered, 'as Heaven is my witness!' 1 'That will do; my nund is easy 1 now,' said the gentleman, falling B weariiy back in his armchair. 'You " are a good fellow, Bruce, and lam glad good fortune has made us " j friends.' ? j 'But pray, sir, allow me to peril I suade you to see the doctor!' | 'No; I will noc see nne, neither 3 j priest noi physician,' th-j baronet's 1 ; son impatiently answered. 'My des- ' I tiny is in God's hands, and I await B *j His will. Leave me, now, old fellow, i and I'll sleep a little. And mind, j Bruce, riot one word of this to a soul | on board.' s 1 'You may rely upon my discretion,' ! Bruce answered. j They shook hands and separated. S| On the following morning Colonel ' Peyton was found dead in his berth. r d A a , TO PW CONTINUED *1 i