HELD IN BONDAGE.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10522, 10 January 1912, Page 2

HELD IN BONDAGE.

ODE SERIAL.

BY L. F. DACRE, Author of "Sinl&ad's Valley," A Phantom of tie Past," "The Shadow of Shame," "Sir John's Heiress," "A Daughter of Mystery," etc.

CHAPTER XXII —Continued

One minuto and he was racing to Deal. Fortune favoured him in his quest. The first doctor he called upon was a,t'home, and, willingly assented to bo taken to Cliff House in Ward's motor ear. "So .Mrs Ward has never been right since the birth of her child?" the docvor.asked. ' 'Three years under detention for mental troubles and discharged as incurable, but not dangerous. She has nor quiet lucid hours, but they never last very 'long. I want to bo quite candid with you, doctor. I have recently had a* young lady assistant to help me generally—to educate t'he cdiild, help with the housekeeping, and to type my papers. Unfortunately Mrs Ward hats taken fits of dislike ±o this girl, and toiiiayi she attacked her with a knife, so tiluat you are going to see two pa- ! tients.'*

He lifted Dolly to his knee and fondled her. "I see you have kept this poor little thing in ignorance. I wislh we could get !iier away somewhere until —until after tilie funeral. Do you think it can bo managed? I have no relations or friends. There is Miss Janson. It's always Miss Janson if we are cornered. I shall be very busy; I promised Amy that she should be buried in ttho family vault in the midlands. We have always feared that'her life would end like t'liis."

The doctor bent a keen glance upon Plat-rick W'ard. '

"H'm. Jealousy?" "Soimething like that; but of course . it is utterly absurd." ' "Of course!'' The doctor shook his head. "It was your duty to send the lady secretary away the instant you noticed a,nytlhing of tlhe sort. You say (the wound is a mere scratch? Still you have laid yourself open to an action for very heavy damages. And there is the possibility of a lot of scandal. You know what the modern newspaper man is." "Scandal be d " snapped Ward. "This affair need go no further if you keep your moutlh shut. ; If there was wo''!-" for (the coroner, it would be quite a> different thing." "I hope you are mot going to try and teach me 'my .business, sir," was tinti (huffy rejoinder. "Look here this inatiter must Tie kept qaiet, if only for tlhe sake of the secretary, Miss Thornton." "If Miss Thornton is agreeable." "I can answer for that." "Oh, indeed!" No more passed between them till

the doctor was in the bedroom of Mrs j Ward. He gave her one rapid glance, I looked at the pupils of the eyes, and 1 called Patrick Ward aside. "The "end is near—she won't live the | nigfct; I can do nothing; paralysis of the brain. It's no use, old man; she won't- recognise you or any one else •again." , Patrick Ward had glided swiftly-to' the side, of the dying woman, and the tears were falling fast upon her face, i He /spoke to her in endearing terms, and at last broke down completely. The doctor waited by the window, ; his arms folded, his eves fixed upon the rolling sea. "I, misjudged the poor fellow,' he thought, "but his manner was so very 'strange. It's the way with these geniuses, perhaps." Patrick Ward dhoked back his sobs, and kissed his wife's face and hands. "It's no use sending a arurse or anything of the kind, Mr Ward," the doctor said gently. "She cannot last long. . { She feels nothing; she knows nothing. j-Now I: will see your secretary and then. j you \vill. drive me home. I;-have a serj ious case to attend to at Deal at eight o'clock."

There was not much the. matter with Miss lliornton. The knife had imde a long, shallow wound, and a lot of blood had been lost, but it was more painful than dangerous. "I see it has been well bathed." the doctor remarked. He readjustd the bandage and promised to come again on the following day. He instruct el the patient to keen quiet and the wound would soon heal.

* * * * * Mrs Ward died soon after midnight, .and the house was hu.s/hed with tho swiftness, the hoi Tor of it. The night was clear and starlight, without any wind. 'The sea moaned sadly at the foot of the Black r l'or. Patrick Ward had kept a lonely vigil till the last, and then his grief found vent, as only a strong man's can. When he came out of the death chamber the next morning he looked like a rnra-n who had had a great figlit-—and lost. He wandered about the house, through the grounds, and back again. It was long before his normal self reasserted itself.

Th'e doctor paid a visit during the morning, and saw Patrick Ward in the study when his professional duties were done.

"I have an aunt in Surrey if you care to trust Dolly to me." "Very well; we'll talk about it tomorrmV or tlhe next day. lamin an ugly humour, Miss Thornton; I feel like a bad man thirsting for revenge upon somebody! Wfaait a shame that you should, have been hurt. You will carry that sear for life." He broke off with a half sob. "I can't help it; everything was so terrible at the last. I am talcing Lootah away to-morrow,-and tfhall see her. aboard the ship." He abruptly put Dolly on the floor, and rising, went out. of the room.

"No use for me any more," he said. I "Miss .Thornton Avail l>e right in a fg\v days. Rather a nasty scar." He 'held oijit his hand.' "Good-bye for the present. A doctor makes his friends in sad circumstances—one of the drawbacks ' of the profession." J "I lliavo 'itiade very few friends in my j lifetime," Ward answered. "And those have turned out wrong. The ordinary run of human nature is not of much aecount. It's a case of bleeding a man long as he can stand it, and then off!" "You are .a pessimist." , "Notihing of the kind. There are good people, no doubt, but tfhey rarely come my way." "Let us .hope that you will be more fortunate in the future, Mr Ward. You are naturally saddened and depressed." >• • "Rot!" Nevertheless he shook hands wilih •the doctor .quite cordially, and even thoug!ht.of speaking to Miss Thornton. She was in her own room with Dolly, ia,nd if her face flushed slightly, she j met his gaze frankly. "I haven't had tlhe heart to talk to you .before, Miss Thornton. lam very tlhiankful that you are no worse." "A mere nothing. I shall go downstairs to-morrow."

S'lie wrote a prompt acceptance

Soon ■ after- breafcfast the. next mornpacked into the motor car. The woman Slid her face, and When she ing the ayah and her belongings were was gone Margaret experienced a feeling of real relief. Patrick Ward was taking her straight to the vessel that was to carry her back to tlhe land of her birth. Then he had to see the undertaker and arrange with the rail- ' way company about the business of removing his dead wife to the family vault at Walsall, in tlhe midlands. He had told Margaret itKat he woujd not be 'home till late that .nig!ht, and. it might be the middle of tih next diay before he could got back. So the day passed, and in the gloom of the house, with its drawn blifids and solemn silence, Margaret was affected with feeling of the deepest depression. Dolly was fretful, and asked so many awkward questions. Where was her mother ? Gone for a long, long journey. And Why hadn't slhe taken Dolly I with her?

Mark Jordan fotdhed the mail bag, as usual, on tlhe following morning, and there was a letter from Patrick Ward for Margaret. Mark waited while she turned out the bag and sorted out the letters. There might lie some instructions for him and he was a privileged servant,, too., u "Anyordera,;miss| It will save me bothering you again." , "Nothing out of the ordinary, Jordan. If there is anything in this letter 1 from Mr Ward I-will-walk down to the lodge to Mi's Jotdan;" "Thank you, miss," lie sighed. "A world of trouble for the young master —'always. And he was such a happy boy before his master bougjht tihis here place. ! Hello, what is tlhe matter ?" A dogcart containing two men pulled up at the hall door. , One was attired in a long black coat-, and a tall silk hat. '■■■ "It's alriglit; it's only the undertaker." His voice was hushed. "I'll see to him, Miiss Thornton:" Jordan was: gone, Margaret 6pened .Patrick Ward's .letter, and saw that it was dated from- Walsall: It ran hus: j "My dear Miss Thornton: I Couldn't make satisfactory arrangements aljout the burial without coming up here, and, with one tilling and another, my hands are pretty well full: I now find that I shall not be able to get back for two days, but in the meantime matters for decently entombing poor Amy will go steadily on. I don't like the idea of yo\i and Dolly being shut up all in the gloom, and wish' you to take the dhild to the home of t'he aunt you spoke about, if you will. I hope I arc not asking too much. And when all of this sad duty is oyer I will fetch both of you back again to Cliff Hoiise. Send me a line immediately saying yes or ijo. You will leave your aunt's 'address if you decide to accept my suggestion. Now, my dear girl; be of good heart, for I know that the future holds great possibilities for all of us. Kiss Dolly for me. } "Sincerely yours',. WARD.' Margaret saw that the writing had begun shakily, but finished with strong curves and a bold signature. She could have wished for no better news, although slhe felt - Cliff House would know iher no more.

Just two or three lines enclosing Mrs | Benson's address. This done she went in search of Mark Jordan, and found liim in the hall talking to the man in sfliabbv black. He had measured the lady, and was just going awav. , "I'll bring the coffin to-morrow," he said. "Good morning." g "Going to take tjhe poor lady to Walsall to be. buried !" Jordan muttered. He observed Margaret and advanced toward her. "Do you want

mo miss?" '"Yes; this letter must be irmiied once. And Jordan, Mr Ward wishes me to take Dolly away til'l after the funeral, .so I s'hall want you to drive us and our luggage to the railway station | to-morrow morning. I. will look up the trains and let you know the exact time later." "Yes, miss, and a very good tiling, too. I will take the letter now and do a bit of marketing at t-lie same time. It will save the pony's legs." * (To be Continued.)