Silas Dennington's Money.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10675, 3 July 1912, Page 2

Silas Dennington's Money.

OUR SERIAL.)

BY F. L. DACRE. Author of "Held in Bondage," "A Phantom of the ?aci," 'TAr John's Heiress," "The Shadow of Shams/' "A Daughter of Mystery," etc.

CHAPTER XlV.—Continued

"Why doesn't your father sell the shop? He says it's worth four thousand pounds, and if the money wore carefully invested " Ho tvent into calculations, but Roi'iraund shattered them. "I suggested it once, and he became awfully excited; then he was ill for days and da vs." "H'm! He isn't fit for the business. It's Saturday again. How have things been this week?" "Very little better. Father gave me twelve shillings this morning, and our debts amount to nearly seven pounds." "They can't be paid," said .Tack ruefully. "And I dare not offer him a small loan. I tell you what I will do, though," he added joyfully. "I'll buy an engagement ring from him. I noticed half a dozen very fine ones in the corner of the case on the counter. Quaint and beautiful tilings they are." "Oh, but they are dreadfullv expensive!"..

"That is one of the ir.iir '-•;;;<"'!';;- tions, darling. Nothing cheap and tawdry would be good enough for you!'

"But—Jack"—and it was the first himq sho had called him Jack, and her face coloured hotly, "can you afford it? The business mustn't suffer."

"The business is going encouragingly, and I've got expectations — great expectations expec tatiovis which are a certainty, Rosamund! I am glad for your sake —for all our sakes —that lam a rich man." His eyes clouded for a moment. Between him and the paradise lie was picturing was a valley of black and menacing shadows. Grantley was ill, and without Grantley the darkness was all-en-compassing. "But we must wait ;* little while, sweetheart, before I can clear no the mystery." She looked at him trustfully, took his hand, and laid it against her cheek. "That is all understood, Jack. I can wait —I wish Vo know nothing out of season." "Dear little Rosamund! What on earth can you see in me?"

"€ might reverse the question. Jack." "My heaven upon earth! I shall always bless Tom Wayman for his skylarking, becaiise it brought us , together a few days sooner." His sunny eyes darkened again. "Rosamund, I ought to be candid with you—l must be, but my love for you has made a coward of me."

She smiled up at him with fond confidence. "I am satisfied, Jack." "But suppose I am not what I pet*. tend to be?" . "Still you are you." "I may not even ho myself." - "Jack! Now you are talking nonsense. I am touching you —holding your hand, looking into your face. Nothing can alter that." He turned his head for a moment, and then, with a quick movement, at, though suddenly inspired, he took n photograph from his pocket, and held it Before Rosamund's eves. "Who is that?" he*whispered. Rosamund took the picture and carried it nearer, to the window.

"Tho eyes—the forehead —the nose —all arc yoiirs, Jack. It is the picture of a younger brother? No, h Is yourself, taken years since." "Taken Inst year, Rosamund, at Carson City. Look on the reverse side. My name is written there." He watched her with curious into iS ness, ■hardly daring to breathe. He sow her eyes dilate, and her face crow white; he saw her swift, comprehending upward glance, V and heard her terse whisper. "Jack Bennington! Then you a'-e Grantley Dennington's brother? Oh, "Jack!"

She sank into the nearest ehifr, trembling, gasping. "You read the papers —you know, Roamund? 1 am not really myelf; my hair and beard are fair. Is this to put an end to everything between us? I am in hiding, with a price upon my head, but I am guiltless of any crime. I never saw this cousin of mine upon the night that'he was shot; I know nothing of it until months after." iHe hushed his voice. "He met .my brother in the drive, and they quarrelled and fought; the man shot himself with his own pistol. Grantley was stricken down with fever, and he never quite recovered. I am bearing this for | his sake, until he is strong enough tc I face the ordeal!" "Jack —Jack!" Rosamund exclaimed tremulously. She got up, and walked towards him, her hands extended. Her face was colourless, but her eyes were shining with love and trustfulness. "I was shocked, frightened for "tho moment, but I never doubted you. I could believe no wrong of you, even if you had killed the man. I should know that it was «n accident; I should know that you were not to blame.''. Almost before he ~\vas aware of it her arms were' about his neck, and. her head pillowed on his shoulder. His heart was too full for speech, and ho gently stroked her hair.' At last he

| spoke, but it was in a low voice, brokI en, halting: "Perhaps I ought to have waited Rosamund until the future was clear before winning your love, but I have been impelled by a power stronger than myself. The ordeal has to "be faced, and when it is over'it will only be like the remembrance of a bad dream. lam going to talk to Grantiey this very day." Rosamund turned up her eyes to his, and smiled patiently, lovingly. "Oh, Jack, I am so glad that von have told me; 1 knew that there was something—something, and it ot:ly draws us nearer together. Don't hasten matters for my sake; wo can both afford to wait, confident that all will be right in the end." Soon after Jack was downstairs in the- shop, looking at Theodore Grant's little stock of engagement rings. The old man watched him gloomily. "Why so much" hurry, Mr Casblemaine?" he said. "Surely the ring can wait; you make me feel that T must soon lose my child. Besides, these things are too expensive." Ho went to his desk and turned over"the pages of a big, leather-hound stockbook. Every article in the shop was entered therein, and priced. When anything was sold, Grant made a record of it, with the date, and cancelled it in the stock-book. "The cheapest cf these rings are twenty-five pounds each." "How much is this one?" Jack took up one studded with pearls and diamonds, and slipped it on the little fingure of his left hand. "This will fit Rosamund's engagement finger perfectly. I'll buy it. Mr Grant. *■

"Indeed!" scoffed Rosamund's father. The price of the ring is forty guineas, young man, not a-penny less a penny less," he added, almost fiercely. Jack laughed carelessly, and opened his pocket book and produced eight five-pound Bank of England notes. Then he dived his hand into his trouser pocket in search of a couple of sovereigns. While he was thus engaged a gentleman walked into the shop ,and asked the price of an old cavalry sword in the window.

"Twelve pounds," Mr Grant s.Md, after referring to his stock-book. ■ "Rather dear, eh?" "Twelve pounds!" repeated Mr Grant shrilly. . ' "Don t'excite yourself, pray," retorted the would-be customer. "I say that you ask too much. I can duplicate it for five or six pounds. T'.iU thing has been knocked about the shop for a dozen years to'my oertain know-; ledge. Good day tq you." Theodore Grant was shivering with . rage. "It's always the same, Mr Castlemaine," he said. "Nothing sold for weeks, but constant arguments about the prices. It's an insult to a tradesman to accuse him of overcharging ; it is tantamount to telling him that no is a swindler. But some of them are spies, of course jit's a put up job/' Wrathfully he paced too and fro, his < nostrils panting, his eyes flaming. "I see no end," he muttered 'No endno end!" Then ho.turned to the won- j dering Jack. "I can't explain to yo.i.j my dear fellow; I wish that I could. J So you are going to take that ri'ig?" Thank you, thank you; the money is. welcome. I hope that you can afford it." . „ _ . "That and a lot more, sir, .Jack answered. "I shall want something for mvself in a day or two.* Tremblingly Mr Grant transferred the money to his cash box.

"I should like to give yon something—anything in the place, but_ I can't. Jack, my boy, do you think that T ask too much for my goods? Tell me the truth—be honest with me." ' "I'm no judge of such things. Many of them are of historic or sentimental value, and probably worth a lot more than you price them at. It all depends 'on the fancy -of the buyer. "Do vou think so? Well, that is comforting. Will you do me a favour? That ring is yours now. to and get it valued, and let me know what tho valuers say. But don tbe mWed; in no case can I-make any abatement—no, not if the thing is worth nothing at all."

Jack was puzzled. "Poor old chap," he thougnt. "Wayman was right; he is bothered in his head." , "Go at once," dear fellow," Theodore Grant continued appealhig.y. "Take it to Attenborough's; they will be honest with you." And Jack did, though reluctantly, \ and the result was startling. The nisrinsic value of the ring was about half what he paid for it! .' (To he Continued).