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

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10000, 22 March 1910, Page 2

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

£ BY EMMA GARKJ ON JONES. ? Author of "Pelf and Power," "Strathmore's Sin," | Etc, etc.

CHAPTER Vll.—Continued. Miss Trevethon's laugh was by no means flattering to the baronet. 'Dear me, Six - Geoffrey, I atn not, at all alarmed,' she atiswtred lightly; 'and, begging your paraon, noc much concerned. But what was the natuie of the accident, and how did it happen?' Sir Geoffrey's brow contracted in an ominous frown, but Le answered, quite pleasantly • 'He was attacked on the highway, and he received a wound,in thi shoulder, not serious, as I said, but quite painful; and as he shows some disposition to fear, the physician enjoins entire quietude, for a day or two at least. Naturally, my dear, he is quite impatient to see you, and, fearing he may r6bel again orders, I am here to beg you that will do me the favour to walk over to the lodge.'

The young lady arches her Haughty brows.

'You want me to go and tee Richmond 9 That's what you mean, isn't it, Sir Geoffrey?' she questions. 'Precisely, my dear.'

'Well, I'm sorry to disoblige you, but since the young man has been so very tardy about his return from abroad, 1 must beg leave to decline the honour of running down to welcome him If there is danger of death I'll go, otherwise we can await his recovery.' She rises and walks over to the window with the air of a born queen. Her guardian's eyes follow her with a look that leads one to think that under the velvet glove he wears is the iron hand, strong and merciless, when occasion requires.

But he answers quite pleasantly: 'As you will, my dsar; but the poor fellow will be disappointed.' 'He won't break his heart,' Sir Geoffrey,' she replies. She watches the blue hills with weary eyes as he leaves the room, her thoughts going back to the old manor and her adventures of yesterday, and for the first time in her life she shudders with disgust at the thought of her formal marriage to this long-absent Richmond. 'At last!' she murmurs; 'at last! He is here, and my freedom will soon end! I wish to Heaven I were dead, and lying in the Black Hollow by my poor mother's side.' Two days went by before the baronet's son was able to leave his room, so painful werei the effects of hi& wound; and in all that time Miss Trevethon did not once visit the lodge. Lady Halstead tried persuasions and severe words, but the yount; lady was not to be moved. Go to see her future hUßband she would not; but the tiny ring, the symbol of their childish marriage, still hung in her bosom,'and sh3 had 4 no thought of disobeying her father's will. On the third morning the young man received permission to go out; and, as may be imagined, his first visit was to his cousin.

Clotilde announced Geoffrey and his son, and then discreetly withdrew.

With high-bred composure, but with a secret flutter at her heart, Miss Trevethon arose to receive her bridegroomm. "My dear Lenore, here he is at last,' cried the baronet, 'this laggard lover of yours, and I only hope you'll give him his deserts. Come. 30U do not need to be introduced.' Miss Trevetlion bows, and the young man advances; then both stand and staie for a few moments in petrified amazement. ' Heavens above'! ejaculates Richmond, at last breaking the embarrassing Silence, a curious expression crossing his swarthy face. Lenore says nothing, but her eyes darken, and her red lips settle in a determined line.

'Well, my dears, why don't you shake hands?' cries the astounded baronet.

Richmond reddens, hesitates, and then advances, With proffered hand. 'How are you, Cousin Lenore? I am very glad to see you.' She waves away his offered hand, and throws up her graceful head. 'I cannot touch your hand, sir. Stand back, if you please,' she saya, her voice like a flute, 'lou man who was cowardly enough to insult an unprotected woman when she asked a simple civility of you! Do you know me, sir? Ah, I see you do. Sir Geoffrey-' turning to her guardian, her face all agiow wit indignation. 'hear me! I had no intention of teiling you of my escapade, but I will. The day vou weut on the deer-hunt I ran away from Clotilde and made a visit to Black Hollow Grange. Do not look so increouloua. I did! It is only natural mat I should want to &ee the place where my parents were murdered.' Sir Geoffrey's face grows as white as death, and his eyes resemble those of a Uuidthirsty beast, but his ward goes fearlessly on. "1 was in the old house, and had quite a strange adventure, which belated me, and on my return lost my way. J encountered the man who stands before me, and asked him to put me in the right road; and he uasely insuited me! Let him deny it if he dare! Sir Geoffrey, you are mis-

taken yourself, or you are trying to impose on me. That man is not your son ;he is not a Tievethon! No man with a single drop of Trevethon blood in his veins would be such a dastard as to insult a woman!' The baronet coweru away from her blazing eyes with the face of a man convicted of some shameful crime; but his son pushes forward, his swarthy face flushing hot with anger.

'Yes, I am his son,' he retorts, 'his white teeth set hard together; 'I am bis son, and, what is more, I am your husband, my fiery beauty; and you'll do well to curb that sharp tongue of yours.' 'My husband? Hear the lunatic! He calls himself my hubsand!' laughs Lenore.

Richmond Irevethon looks at her fair, defiant face withj eyes thaiglow with mingled anger and admiration.

'Xour husband, yes,' he repeats, 'by a marriage in our childhood; by your dead father's command.' The room rings with her scornful laughter. 'Our marriage in childhond was no marriage at all,' she anwsers 'and if my dead father should rise from his grave and command me to marry you I would refuse. Disobedience may be a sin, but to mate with one like vou would be rushing madly to secure a life of misery.' 'Hush! don't speak rashly; yau'll repent of such bitter words by and by," he says, assuming aconciiiating manner and attempting to take her hand. 'How could I even dream of 'meeting you at such an hour and in such a place. You mu«t forget that foolish encounter."

'I shall never forget it, sir,'she cries, recoiling from his touch with undisguised horror and aversion. 'No matter whether you knew me or not. I was a woman, and I asked a kindness at your hands, and you insulted me. The vilest man that lives, could do no worse than that. Stand back, sir; do not venture near me. I have my little weapon still, and the next blow may strike home.' She draws a jewelled dagger from her bosom, and dashes it before his eyes. He falls back, grinding out a brutal oath between his se't teeth. 'Come, come,' cries Sir Geoffrey, coming forward, 'this will never do. Lenore, my dear, put up your dagger; it is a dangerous toy, aDd I must beg that you will cease carrying it. Do not be rude, my son, I beg of yoa. You two cannot afford to quarrel.'

'Yes, wee can,' interposes Lenore; 'we can afford to quarrel and to pari. You may eo, sir,' bowing to her lover with imperial scorn; 'there is no need that you and I should ever meet again.' 'Yes, there is, by George,' the young man bursts forth. 'Last night's account is to be settled yet, and I'll settle it with a vengeance, too, when the time comes.' His father takes hia arm and pushes him aside. Richmond, be silent!' he commands; 'leave the matter to me. Lenore, my dear, you must remember 9

She outs him short with a gesture of imperious disdain. 'No need to remember, Sir Geoffrey,'she cries; 'less Deed to waste your breath. Hear me, and then have done with it All my life my intention has been to abide by the letter of my father's will,, and make good my childish marriage with your son; but seeing him now as I do, a man whose face betrays his habits, a man who does not scruple to insult an unprotected woman, I would die a score of violent deaths rather than become his wife. The Trevethon heritage must gd, my poor father's last will must be disregarded. Of the two evils I choose the lesser one. You have my decision in regard to the matter, Sir Geoffrey, an did bid you good morning.' She makes them a graceful obeisance, and sweeps from the room like an empress. Father and son stand face to face for a full minute. 'Well?' questioned the baronet then. 'She shall be my wife,' replies the son, his dark face flushing hotly; 'and once mine I'll pay her with interest for ail' this.' "She'll pay you. you mean,' retorts Sir Geoffrey. 'She's more than a match for you, you bungling idiot. If you had barkened to me she might have been your wife twelve months atio.' 'That may be, but she shall be mine, nevertheless. I my revenge the night she stabbed me. Curse her, I doubly swear it now.' His father seizes him by the collar and gives him a vicious shake. 'Silence, you fool,' he thunders. 'You'll ruin everything with your infernal temper. Let your revenge rest. To secure the Trevethon wealth is our object. Don't forget the very bread you eat. cornea from this girl's bounty, and even your income is of her giving. Let her slip and we are both beggars.' TO PR CO&TZNUED