The Swoop of the Vulture.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10716, 10 September 1912, Page 2

The Swoop of the Vulture.

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CHAPTER IX. (Continued.) "But, good heavens, Grace! ' Ivo exclaimed, as a sudden tear stoic into his soul, "you are not going to tell mo that the bond between vou and this man whom —1 may as well say it at once, since you understand —I firmly believe to bo my lather's' murderer, still exists!'" Sho slipped out of his arms, and stepped back a lew paces tram him. Standing with lior little, red-slip-pered foot nearly buried in the long fur of the hearthrug, and the soft glow of the shaded electric light falling on her glorious hair, as she clasped her. hands behind her, and faced him —a vision of such perfect, almost unearthly loveliness U'.-t his eves dilated with new wonder, and his pulses leaped with joy that she was his, wholly his. But was she truly, wholly Irs? That was the horrible doubt that Jior very loveliness niadc the ;y> horrible'. "Harold," she said, in a soft, clear voice, whose music was almost a pain to him, "I don't think that | such a bond as existed between my uncle and myself can ever be wnolly broken, save by death. ' "Then, if there is justice to be, had 3n earth, ho shSill— —" - ■ "Stop, Harold, stop! For Gods sake don't sav that yet," she interrupted, with a litfclo cry of pam. member, we <lo not know, we only suspect. But when we do know, if | ever, your wife will be for justice and | for you!" she went on, with a hard- i er ring" in-her voice. "No, Harold, please—not* now. Wait until 1 have told you what I have been waiting up to tell—something that 1 ought, to have told you; and yet—no, 1 didn't tell you ' because 1. wouldn't." f "What do you mean, Grace?' he asked in amazement, tue chill grasp of lear again taking noid ol his heart. "lou will understand when 1 tell you," she replied softly and sadly, "it's a.very torrinle.thing for a wife to tell a. husband who loves her but I can tell you now, and I will, for you must know it before you can give me your confidence about your father's diary." "Then tell me—tell me at once, for Heaven's sake!" he said hoaisely, "However bad it is, if anything could bo bad of you." "It is not bad, Harold," she re' plied, with a quick liush, which Drought one of something liKe stymie to ins own face; "and yet," she went on, "in one sense it is bad, because it is not natural. No, don't say anything now, dear. Let ine tell it m my own way; it will soon be over." Then, with her eyes looking steadily but sadly into his, she went on in a tone which struck h;m as strangely impersonal and unlike her own : "I can hardly expect you to believe me, Harold, but it is still the truth that if it ha<l not been for that my- ' sterious bond between my uncle and J myself, \vhich I now hate as much as I you do',.you and 1 would never have j been married!"

"What —you and I, Grace! Are,you going to tell me—: —" ;; "I am going to toll you," she went on, scarcely'heeding his interruption, "that before we were married I did not love you, I have never loved any man. I did not know what that kind of love was like, and —andTnever believed that I should. It is you that have taught me the real love, Harold; but it was my uncle that taught me the sham which you took for reality. 1 did not know then that it was not real, that it was only a phantom love, which he had conjured up for his own purposes. Yet when 1 was with you, when I felt your arms round me, and your kisses on my lips, I did love you —aiid when we were apart it all went away. I had no dreams, of you waking and sleeping, as other girls have of their lovers. You seenied to be someone else, only an acquaintance, perhaps a friend, but nothing more until I met you again, and then the strange, sham love came, and cheated both you and me." j -ft "Sham love!—cheat! Nonsense! impossible, Grace!" he broke in passionately. "I would as soon bslievo falsehood of an angel in heaven as of you." "It was not my falsehood —God forbid!" sho said gently; "it was his. but it was falsehood, all the same 1 did not bring you the the true lov« of a true woman, and so you were cheated into believing that I had given you what I had not to give. That is all. Can you forgive me, The next instant she was in his arms again, smiling and unresisting. Can you forgive me Harold?" "Forgive you darling? What is there to forgive to such sweet innocence as yours? Sham or no sham, that strango love gave you to me; and if .Tenner Halkine were not what I believe him to be. I could bless him for it; —fraud or not! But you h'five not said everything, dearest. You have one more question to answer." "I.know what it is." she said, so .softly that her voice was almost a whisper. "You are going .to ask me if, I love you noAV —love you with the real love that a wife should givo to her husband, with everything else that she has to give. Yes, I do; for when we were married something new, something that I hatl never dreamed of before, came into my life, and seenied to transfigure it. All

BY OWEN MASTERS. Author of "His Heart's Desire," "One Impassioned Hour," "Captain Emlyn's Bride," "Tiio Dc-vereJl Heritage," "The Ironmaster's Daughter," etc.

I the world about me was different. My ; uncle, with his terrible, influence went farther a::d farther away, and you, came l'.'.'arer and nearer, j You knoiv what that was, Harold, . don't you? It was the true love. It must have been, for only real tovo can change the world like that for a woman. Aro you satisfied, dear?" ' His answer was not spoken in I words. Ho crushed her in his arms, and as their lips met his soul said itj. to hers, - and so the first threatening cloud, drifted away from the heaven., of their perfect happiness. CHAPTER X. BLUFFED, I They did not go through the conI tent;; of Sir Godfrey's <,l iary that night. They were both too happy in. their immediate present to think of. i anything but the new happiness that i each had revealed to the other; and i so they wisely left the things of tomorrow to wait on the coming of tomorrow. But when Grace had readthe few pregnant and piteous sentences, and interpreted them in the light . of her own knowledge, and with the I aid of her strange, inherited power, I sho was, if possible, even more firmi ly convinced of the guilt of the man ! whom she believed to be only her un- : cle, than Harold himself was. At the samo tiino sho heartily endorsed Mr Barthgate's opinion that, for the time being at.least, it was absolutely necessary for Harold to keep both his hatred and his suspicions of the professor completely out of sight. Xo good, and possibly great harm, would he done by even allowing him to guess that his conduct was in any way suspected. It must be confessed, that he played the part excellently;.but that was due to the wide range of his' education, and to the iron will with which a youth of adventure and peril had endowed him. ■ _ j Ho treated .Tenner Halkine in J exactly the same manner as before Sir J Godfrey's death. He had never been I on really good terms with him. and ' this fact made his task, and the keenwitted professor's deception, all the easier. Ho entered with great ap- | parent interest into his various schemes for giving effect to "his dead friend's wishes," and gave every assistance in his power to expeelite the I process of probate. But when the will was proved, and Halkine entered upon his trusteeship, thero came to the manor, one fine morning, a long, blue envelope, the contents of which caused Ilarokl to fling the paper down, with an oath,' min jump to his leet, for which ho i i'omptly beggo J his startled wife's l.a'don. ' What lis the matter, ILiro'd ?" ■ i.-i said, turning pale, for she had never before heard a word from his lips that could off end a woman's ear. "I beg your pardon a thousand times, Grace," lie replied, coloring to the eyes. "1 ought to be kickeet; but I think you'il admit that this is about enough to make a fellow forget himself. Would you believe it, that scoundrel Halkine has gone and realized a million' Out of tne estate investments P'n ill's, solo authority;, and without consulting,.either Barth- ' gate or myself." "A million?" said Grace, with a little gasp. "A million? Tnat's a tremendous amount, isn't it? But has he the right to do that by himself;' "I'm afraid ho took very good care

to make that all right before he sent my poor father to his grave," replied Harold bitterly. "Still, for all that,

I'm off to town as soon as I can get a train, and have it .out with him in some way, if it's only for the satisfaction of doing it. He's evidently thrown off his mask, and I may as well do the same. Why, the rascal hasn't even one of his schemes ready to slpend a penny upon honestly. So now go and pack up, and tell JacksOh to put my things together, and we'll catch the midday train from Newcastle. I'll see about .the carriage, and send Simmons to the post office with a wire to Brown's as the old governor always did when j lio paid a flying visit like this." '• (To be Continued.)