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

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 9999, 21 March 1910, Page 2

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

/ BY EMMA GARRJ ON JONES. • Author of "Pelf and Power," "Strathicore's Sin," / Etc, etc.

CHAPTER VI. —Continued. '1 beg your pardon, madam. If there is any assistance I can render you, 1 am at your service.' Something in the kingly form and massive brow, and in the deferential voice, inspired the girl with a reeling of confidence. 'lf you please, sir, put me in the right way to Piedmont Station,' she said quietly. 'Certainly; this way, if you please; Piedmont lies to our left,' he replieed, bowing low before her, as he added, 'Allow me to guide you thither!' He started on, and without a word, Miss Trevethon walked by his siie, leaving her wounded admirer standing in the moonlit path. His dark face grew fearfully threatening ad he gazed after her. 'An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a'blow for a blow—that's my code.' he muttered, his teeth set. 'l'd know you in Hades, with your glittering eyes and yellow hair, my termagant, and I'll hunt creation over, but I'll find you and settle this score.'

Meanwhile Mis 3 Trevethon accompanied her guide, until the lights cf Piedmont twinkled through the gloom He had not asked her a single question relative to her straGge position. He merely gave her that courteous care which everv true man owes to an unprotected woman, and the girl's heart acknowledged this chivalrous kindness with a thrill of admiring interest such as no > other man had ever awakened.

'I see the tram just coming,' he remarked, as they reached the platform. 'We are just in time. Are you going far?' 'Only to the next station, siir.' tig 'lf you are at all afraid, and would like me to do so, I will cheerfully accompany you to your journey's end.'

Lenore smiled up at him, and put out her slim, white hand, its diamonds and emeralds flashing in the light. 'I than you sincerely, sir, but there is no necessity. I shall be quite safe now, and I will not trespass on your kindness any further. You have done me a great service, and I am grateful.' He took the soft hand and bowed his handsome head over it. 'Oh, you are more than welcome; I only wish I could further oblige you.' The train came steaming up.

'You are sure,' he continued, 'there is nothing more I can do for you?' 'Nothing, sir, thank you, unless you will tell me the name of the man who does not hesitate to pay due deference to a lady, even if her posi • tion chance to be questionable.' The towering head was bared again, and bowed before her. 'My name is Ambrose Gerhart!'

*I shall not forget it, nor the Service you nave done me,' Bhe replied, as he assisted her on board the train. The carriage door closed, the engine uttered a shriek, and flew on again; but standing in the moonlight, Ambrose saw the fair face and radiant eyes from the window, and once more lifted his cap. 'She is some princess in disguise,' he murmured. 'A lady, one can see at a glance, and as lovely as one dreams the angles are! There are no such women as sne in my world! I wonder if I siiail ever see her again?' He sighed as the rsd light on the rear of the flymg train faded in the distance, and the next moment broke into a laugh at his own folly. 'What a fool 1 am,' he muttered, 'not to be content with what I've got! If one has the glowworms, why should one pine for the stars? Ah. well, I won't stand here and dream; my goud mother's oat-cakes will ail spoil with waiting, and the lambs and kids are to be folded yet. He drew his Highland cap over his clustering locks and strode on at a rapid pace. At the extreme edge of the Black Hollow, below the manor, he saw a strange figure advancing toward him in he moonlight—the figure of an old man, bent and stooping, with hair and beard like snow.

'Who comes now?' thought Ambrose. 'No such character as that inhabits these parts. Who can it he be?"

'Hello! good father!' he excalimed aloud, 'which way are you faring'? The old figure paused and tarned on Ambrose a face that looked strikingly youthful in contrast witti his snowy locks. 'I, sit?" Where am I gcing? why, back to Moreton House, to be sure! Did ihey send you to hurry me? I've overstayed my time, I confess.'

'No, sir; no one has sent for you! I merely asked which way you were going; you look as if you might be a stranger hereabouts.' The old man stroked his rippling white bead, and laughed a soft, musical, laugh. 'Do i? Ah, well, I suppose lam a stranger; this is an odd world, and it puzzles me. Yes, yes, I'm a atrangtr. I've been stopping at the old manor yonder.'

'What? The haunted manor?' 'The haunted manor, sir, making the ghosts a visit. I'm not afraid of them.' 'And what may your name be, sir? if you'll allow me to ask. 'My name, young sir? Well, they call me King Lear at the Moreton House, and that'll do for you. I had another name once, but no matter. When the time comes you shall hear it. Some folks call me a lunatic; do you think I look like one?' •I think you look like a gentleman. 1 should tane you for one of the old lords that used to live up yonder.' 'Would you, now? Ha! ha! ha! What an observing young man you are. And your face, Heaven bless me. where have I seen you before?' 'I think this is our first meeting, King Lear.* 'Will you smile again, if \ou please, young man?' Ambrose showed all his white teeth. •uood heavens, what a likeness! I never saw such a likeness. The very smile, and a clear-cut, manly face. Young sir, will you tell me your name?'

'Ambrose Gehart, sir.' 'And you live in these parts?' 'ln the cottage below there. I Suppose you go down with roe; the night is advanced, and I must hurry on, or my good mother's oat-cakes will spoil with waiting.' 'Nay, thanking you all the same, out I must hurry on. I am going back to the Moreton House, and I've overstayed my time now. 1 only run down once in a while to look after the old house. It is going to ruin sadly, and it breaks my heart to see it. But as soon as I get affairs untangled, and secure the ruins again, and between us, young man, I was a fool to let them slip, all hold fast, and then I shall have the Grange repaired and thrown open for visitors. I shall be glad to see you, Mr Gerhart, for I'm particularly struck with your face. No doubt you've heard of the Trevethons?'

'Oh, yes, sir; I've seen Sir Geoffrey Trevethon?'

Indeed! May I aak when and where?'

'At Lyndith Hall, where he now lives.' 'Sir Geoffrey Trevethon! Mr Gerhart, are you sure you saw him!' 'I am, indeed.' . 'Sir Geoffrey! Well, bless my soul, this is an odd world! You saw Sir Geoffrey Trevethon at Lyndith Hall?' Ambrose smiled at what he believed to be a madman's vagaries. 'I certainly saw him at Xyndith Hall?'

'About two years ago, I went across with a drove of cattle, and I saw Sir ueoffrey, and a very pleasant and hospitable gentleman he is.'

'No doubt. Ha! ha! ha! the best joke of the season that. I really think Mr Gerhart, we shall be compelled to have you at Moreton House. You surely belong there. But, bless my soul, I must hurry on! Good night. I shall look to see you when I open the Grange.'

'Well,' mused Ambrose, watching bim as he disappeared, 'the last wonder is greater than the first. Who can he be? A madman, of course; but he has the air of a geentleman.'

CHAPTER 11. AN EMBARRASSING RECOGNITION. Miss Trevethon sat in the breakfast parlor of the Highland Inn, on the morning following her wild adventure, a trifle pale, a little more subdued and thoughtful than was her wont, but imperially calm and selfcontained. She was drwssed in a morning robe of crisp muslin, with an uncut book in her fair hand, and her eyes bent upon the blue peaks that lay beyond the open window. Sir Geoffrey, fresh and genial after his day at deer-stalking, came in. 'jLetiore, my dear, how fresh and fair you look. This Highland air agrees with you. Put by your book a minute, please; I come with news for you.' 'News again, Sir Geoffrey? Pray, what is it this time?' 'News again, my dear—the best of news; and as you dislike guessing, I'll reveal it at once. My son, Richmond, reached the lodge last night.'

For one swft instant Miss Trevethon's imperial csi n was disturbed. She started -lighily and bit her lips, ■ This news of the return of her betrothed was not at all welcome. But in the next breath she was her queeniy selt again. 'He has come at last, then?' she respondtd. 'At last,' Sir Geoffrey continued. 'He arrived at Lyndith Hall only a day or two after our departure, and came on at once to join us. but, unfortunately, lost his way, and. last night he met with an accident.' 'An accident?' 'Yes, but pray do not be alarmed, my dear; there is nothing serious.-' TO PW CONTINUED