AFTER RELEASE.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10619, 26 April 1912, Page 2

AFTER RELEASE.

OUR SERIAL.

By VIOLET M. FLINN, Author of "The Mast-er Passion, "What Shall Ii Profit?" "Versa-."' "By Devious Paths," Etc.

CHAPTEI? XXIV —Continued. j "I do not know how much of that I story you know, Ludworth. You must have been very young when it happened ; I was only just 'born. But so far as I know, this is it: Ma.rmaduke March am was the second son; the duke, his elder brother, was a man of indifferent health, and seemed unlikely to marry. Marmaduko was hi a lieir. Ho was, it appears, a man utterly unworthy of his family, unscrupulous, extravagant au ( l unruly, but not clever enough to act by himself. He found an aider and abettor in this man, Stanton Neal, who had his own scheme in 'us ho?d. Between them they so mi brewed a si-en. - that tliev feared could not b > allayed without exposure. They r.-.ade Charles their scapegoat. Tt was an easy matter for him to be made responsible for many of his brother's fellies. Charles, although he had his faults, was of nobler calibre than the others. He was one of those who was dazzled by Neal's brilliant gifts and attractive* personality.' Neal 'bowed mockingly, but Itawarde took'.no notice of him. "He was in great fmaiicia: difficulties, and was in trouble in a number of ways, but not culpable, and on the whole it was not difficult to persuade him to go abroad. It was a blow to them, however, when he consummated his follies by marrying. She was a girl who had been secretary or friend if you like, of a well- j known, rather notorious dancer of the day. The dancer was ono of those worn en whose reputation was worse than her character. The girl An.net Grainger, seems to have been a girl (if unblemished character, one who lived in the midst of much that was worthless, and even bad, but was not herself besmirched. It is to be put to Lord Chai les' merit that ho recognised her miriiv and worth, and took her out of the dangers she was too innocently ignorant of to realise herself." "Sell was a fool!" Neal said harshly. "A silly ,simpering fool who .swallowed everything lie told her, and thought he-was a paragon of perfection. But none of us, even when she had left Lilla, thought ho had married her. That was a pleasure for me to iearn when I was plunged up to my neck in difficulties and anxieties. Oh, these Marchams!" lie cried. "Fickleness! And to think that Marmaduke escaped it all! You have heard a fine story. I am the villain of the play. T doubt if the place would not have been better filled by your unclo Marmaduke. It was certainly he who suggested that we should make use of Ludworth's name; wo counted confidently on my influence with the duchess and her devotionto him. But she ' never forgave me for my marriage she said she never would. " I .thought that they were only the vaporings of a jealous woman. That was my mistake. I underestimated her powers and I did not realise that my wife's were what they 'were. And i' l tho • midst of all ..the worry came the news ■ of Charles' death and the" arrival of his wife at my house, a legacy bequeathed by him." . i] . ''Aml-the prospect ofvan-heir! - Aiu3 then came the crash, and I found out what the Marchams could do!' He drew a long, hissing breath, and his eyes gleamed. "I could have strangled the lot with my own hands! But then, there came, even in those days the hope of revenge, of lowering the duchess's pride. There was ono at least who did not dare to deceive me —a, silly fool, but useful. It was she who told me that my wife's sou had died, that Charles' son was alive, and strong and well. In thoso days when I was waiting my trial I made my plans I l.iid a ready helper, an.l —ho drew a long breath—"it was iny son that was registered and buried as tho son of Charles Marcham, aud tho real Marchani was put into the arms of my wife as her own. And there he is, Charles' JVlarcham's son, the. rigthful Duke of Ludworth!" "And that was your revenge worth asked slowly.

"That is my revenge. Imagine wliat that will mean to the duchess—to my wife. Charles son! The knowledge lias kept ,me warn in prison oh many a cold winter night. She thought that she had got- rid of'riio, that I was carried.out of the way. like carrion. But it has been of 110 avail. I;have kept alivo and bided my time. I have held the trump card all the time. Her ladyship knows that she has to eome face to face with me, after «ill." "But I never heard anything more improbable!" Ludworth exclaimed. "Who will believe that- tho names, the children were changed just on your word? Besides " "There is Eklytli!' lie was going to say, 'but checked himself. Neal laughed feebly. The excitement was evidently a great strain upon him. ltawarcte pushed a chaar toward him. "You had bettor sit down 'and take things moro easily,' he said curtly. "You ought to know better than to overdo yourself as you are doing. "Oh, .1 shan't die yet. I liavo too much in hand. Do you take mo foi a, fool?" he demanded of Lud-worth "I liavo got proofs, many proofs, and a witness who will bo all the more convincing because she is an unwilling one, and extremely reluctant to come forward. Times have changed since sho crawled at my feet, ready to do anything at my beck arid call. She is up and I am down, but I have not lost my power over her. She will do anything I say for mo to keep quiet, 1 but if I say sho is to speak she will do 1 it." | A sudden suspicion flashed, into Ludwortli's mind. He looked at the broken

and feeble man with loathing. " Who is your witness?" he demanded, and Neal smiled sardonically, as he replied : "Lady Flora Blagg.' "'Do you mean that it was she — that it was she who changed the children, an<l carried out all tho plot at your bidding?" Ludworth cried incredulously. "Sho hasn't got tho sense to do it." "AH the same sho did, and will not deny it wheTL tho time comes to speak. Poor, foolish Flora, her life has not been a ,bed of roses since she saw mo live months ago in Piccadilly." Ludworth was silent. His knowledge of Flora's recent behaviour carried wdth it a ghastly confirmation of Neal's -words. It was so easy now to understand what a martyrdom the woman was now undergoing in the dread of discovery. It "was so easy to see how she had been so pliant a tool in his unscrupulous hands. A little flattery, a few kind words, some light caresses, and poor Flora's head would turn. She would be as wax under his directions. It would certainly not bq until later, even if then, that i she would realise the serios nature of 'lier action, and Ludworth doubted if ib was nob terror of prison alone, held over lier as a threat 'by Neal, the better to obtain his sinews of war and fear of Sir Thomas's wrath that was alarming her now, not tho moral consequences of her action. Rawarde saw his expression change. He wondered what it meant. A smile flickered on Neal's fsce as he, too. watched him. "You aro noL so cock-a-hoop as were,,- Mr Ma' chan;!' he sai i *coff»ngly. ''You evidently know your aunt J" on as well as I do!" "I knon you i re a thoroy.gb-i'accd scoundrel-" Ludworth said hotly. "Why on earth couldn't you told Mr Tresidder what you knew when he picked you out of the gutter ? He told you he was in search of Charles Marcham's wife and child." For the first time Neal hesitated. Perhaps even he did not like to reveal I himself as wholly a traitor. But he I shrugged his shoulders . and glanced j defiantly at tho two young men. I "How did I know what he wanted .with them?" he demanded. "Why should I let him spoil my market? Besides, I had not quite decided then what I was going to do.' "In other words you had not found out where you could get the most!" Rawarde said with contemptuous bitj terness. Neal bowed again, with the mocking politeness that was like gall to tho young man. "Exactly so. Liko all business people, I-wanted as.much as I could get. Who. can blame me? Nat you! You were ready enough to grasp at the bait that I offered you." "To my shame," Rawarde replied. "But that midsummer madness ends here. So far as I am concerned, the duke may remain quite secure." _Neal-was filled with disappointment; and rage. ~ M "Then—then what becomes of me r lie gasped . RaAvarde turned on his heel, a prey to passions whose depths lie could not gauge. It was too galling to ever remember that he had ever listened t-o a man who spared .not even his wife in his vile schemes. "I neither know nor care!' he replied. "You acknowledge that you have no claim of blood upon me. My —mother —will have no more to do with you. It seems to me you might try an honest living by way of a change." "Jf I did not know otherwise, I could almost have believed that you were mv son!" Neal retorted, his face livid. "I see myself in you. I was as brilliant, as clever, as successful as you are. Take care your pride and ambition don't overreach you as mine did. You'll learn Ivumility and. sympathy with the unfortunates of life when you have been in the depths i with them. You will probably look on every man who has had the Juck not to be found oiit as a detested enemy. That is wliat/I do- There's not much brotherho'da between the man on the hilltop and the one in the guttGr.'' Ludworth saw Rawarde's face change. He stood silentj almost as if rebuked justly. Tho sternness left las features, and the sweetness of his smile returned to them. "I might—nay, T should have been like you,' ho said slowly, "but it. woman's belief that I was better than i I knew saved me from myself. I ■am-; ambition.,s and far-reaching I know,, but, better than, my ambition, better; than myself, is the respect and love of) that woman; and in that I am different from you, Stanton Neal. But, i whatever may be the motives that' I prompt you, .i have said my last word," with regard to this disputed claim, j The duke will hear no more from me,.j on that matter." ';i <To foe continued.)