A DESPERATE GAME

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10135, 4 November 1910, Page 2

A DESPERATE GAME

(OUR SERIALS

By OWEN MASTERS. Author of '"the Master of Tredcroft," "One Impassioned Hour," "The Devercl Heritage," "When Love Rules the Heart," "Captain Emlyn'a Bride," etc.

CHAPTER XXXVI. A'l UN OF FORTUNE'S WHEEL. A 'ived at Hindhead Maynardj :aret and Constance returned to old quarters, while 1' oster Pit.-i , my cousin and myself took roo; -s at the tlute, a fine old inn on 'lie London-Portsmouth Road. We : ;ul not been there half an hour, i rer, when I received a note I'ro, • Margaret asking me to go ami •ee her. She herself met me in the porch, and to my surprise she put to mo in other terms the question Foster Price had asked me in the cab. "Suppose," she said slowly, "suppose you should bo able to prove your innocence of the Coyton jewel robbery " "Yes?" I asked a little mystified as she paused.

"And suppose, that in doing so you should prove Mr Vanneclc to have been—to have been " She put her hand on my arm, and glanced half appealingly, half inquiringly, into my face. 'Where is Constance?" I asked.

"She is inside," was the reply. "She is writing a letter to you." "To me! A letter! Let me goto her!"

"I promised " "What did you promise?" "I made a promise that I am not going to keep," she returned, with a wistful smile. "Constance is in the little room behind. She is breaking her heart. If you go to her I will see that no one interrupts." I stayed for nothing further, but crossed the corridor in two strides, and stepped lightly into the little room, closing the door behind me.

Constance was seated at a small table near the window, her face was bowed, while her shoulders heaved with voiceless sobs, too agonizing even for tears. I had never doubted my love for her or what I should do, but when I saw her seated there in an abandon of misery, and knew that it was the fear of final separation from myself that had stricken her clown, my heart went out to her in a great overmastering thrill of tenderness.

I did not speak. I went to her, and bending over her, raised lier face towards me and kissed lier on the lips. For a moment or two she remained there, and then almost tore herself out of my arms, and staggered half blindly to her feet. "You!" she cried. "Margaret promised '' "Do you think a dozen Margarets or a hundred promises would have kept me away?" I said, smiling. "But—but I was writing to you." "Nor a thousand letters on the top of that," I added. "But my father!" she cried. "If your father injured me," I said quietly, "the daughter shall work out his forgiveness. If he did, nobody need know." "No, no, no!" "But " "A thousand times—no! It must be known, the whole world must know, and I " "I do not care who knows or what they know," I returned, "if I have you. Oh ,darling, darling, I have loved you so long, through the dark time; and now, in the light " She fluttered towards me, a wonderous radiance in her face. "You love me still?" she whispered. "Despite the—the long iirprisonment, despite all you have surfered, despite " I held out my arms again, and she came to them, without shyness or reserve, my own dear love for evermore. . "Oh, my dear, dear boy!" she whispered, through blinding, happy tears; "if a lifetime of love and tenderness can blot out the pain of the past " And, even now that years have passed, when I cast up my life's ledger, I always find a margin 011 the credit side. True, nothing could bring me back the years I had lost, but the joy and happiness of those that followed have been so full and dec]) that the balance has been far more than redressed. Though, for the matter of that, what of pain and humiliation there may have been in Constance's relationship with Vanneck was partially removed by the discoveiy we made among Ephraim Turbutt's papers. We found a letter from Vanneck, nearly, ten years old, in which a reference was made to "the child I adopted from the wreck of the Hampton Gull." Whether this was a reference to Constance or not we could never establish of a certainty,- but then, neither could we on the other hand learn Avhether Vanneck had ever been maried even. At all events Constance seized the suggestion with avidity, and for my sake, and for the sake of the boys, prefers to believe herself the child cf honest parents buried beneath the waves. For my part she is Constance only, and what or what her parents were does not enter in the question. Nevertheless j the matter is given here for what it i

limy be v.'orth. * * * » * * * The inquest was duly hold oil the bodies of Ephraim Tnvbutt and bis tool, Murgatroyd, and against the former thcro was returned a, verdict of murder and suicide. There is no need to go into detail over the story of that inquiry, or to describe the points which Foster Price, with exquisite skill and task ,succeeded in elucidating. But they -served to form a basis of the long, stern fight we made, are making, to obtain, according to the .quaint fashion of the English law, my "pardon" for a "crime"' of which I was entiifrly innocent. Alas! officialism is tardy in its movements, nor can anyone but confess that my legal proofs are scanty. Price never has been, is not sanguine, but every year numbers arc being added to the list of those true friends of mine who believe in me; and it is for their satisfaction, and for the convincing of others whose opinions we value, but most of all for the sake of our two boys, that they may bear a name free from guilt in the eyes of the world, that this statement of my case, urged and furthered by my dear, sweet wife, has been penned. I have described eevnts precisely as they occurred, explaining nothing, glossing nothing, with 110 comments, opinions, or surmises, and there f leave it for the acceptance or the rejection it may deserve. THE END.