CHAPTER XXXV. — ONCE MORE, A WAY OF E CCAPE.
'Ant. time is flying,' slu murmured 'I "ill t«"H you*' ShG lifted her headj and looked at him straight and unabashed. ' At twelve o'clock a clerk of Messrs Boss and Rabj's will be Lore, in obedience to a message from — him — to take instructions for a will. He has never seen him ; no one in the house knows his appearance. He was carried here from the boat yestrrday ; and except our servants — one is out, the other is asleep — no one has seen hitr. Walter ! in tin 1 old days, in which I always helped you and loved you, and vras staunch to y»u, no matter how much I was reviled or punwhed on your account — m thoao old da)B, I suy, you were a good actor ; you could dress, and speak, and look a part well, and there was no handwriting you could not lnntite, betides having several of your own: remember the letters Rose Dixon brought to Crescent House. Have you lost your old skill, and your hand its former cunning p> ' (food Q-od, Miriam- -do you pio|jose ' 1 That ii what I propose, bi other ; it is quite safe, and it injures no one — remember how he would have injured me.' ™| I She held him now, with a hand griping each shoulder, and looked at him full, with her commanding, gloomy eyes. ' When this lawyer comes, he shall be introduced to you the firm know nothing of him, not oven his handwriting ; it was hii valet who wrote the letter to them— not even whethf r he is young or old ; but you can easily look much older thnn you do now, and the ligb*t need not be strong — instead of his real client; and you shall give huo instructions to draw a will — you have the model ; it is easy and simple ; it is only a few lines ; it will all be done in a few minutes — and two of the hotel servants, who have not seen him — can witness it. The lawyer will go away, and then you, and then the truth shall he told. No one will be wronged, Walter. This unknown man knows nothing of 1 his chance, and never can hare expected such a chance to arise ; and I—lI — I shall have the reward, the bare pay, I may call it, for all this horrid hie, which is done with— and owe it all to you — to you, Walter, who owe so mnch to me !' • Miriam, this is madness. Do you know what you w*ut me to do ? This is a ielonj .' ' And felony is a word ! What has he done to me ? What would ho have done if he had lived two more hours ? Think of that, Walter, and of the base treachery it means ; and think of jour own happy home, of Florence, of the child that is coming, and of all you have, while I have nothing ; and, if the law gives me anything, must have it with the sting of suspicion, of calumny — and do this thing for me, dearest W alter, lor your sister, who has done and borne much for you! I did not need praying, Walter, when ?ou«| came to me, in disgrace, and asked me to do that for you, ' for which my father would havp turned me out into the streets, if he had discovered it ! I needed no prayers, and I nover faltered, not then, not after, when this old^ man heaped insult and suspicion on me, for Florence 1 ! sake !' ' But, Miriam ' He hesitated, covered his face with his hands. 'Time flies,' she said. 'Walter, will you not help and save me ? Will you be cruel and selfish , and treacherous too?' There was a moment's silenoe, then Walter, disclosing a face as white and troubled as her own, said : ' Shew me how it is to be done, and I will do it. Let what will come of it, Miriam, I will do this for you She kissed bun without a word. Then, with inconceivable rapidity and quietness, she placed writing materials before him, and collected several books which lay about the room, travelling literature from book-stalls, and French brochures, and opened them in a row, at the top of the-blatting-boolc, displaying the fly-leaf of each. A formal inscription wat written exactly in the uuddlo of e\ery one of these Tlien she went to the desk again, and took out a cheque-book, m^ which were a number of blank cheques, signed. In all these™ signatures and inscriptions there was hardly a trace of variation in the characters, forming the name •
LPCIUS CIIBBOBN Si. 'QuEI-Tl>\ 'Copy these,' she said. 'It is uneasy hand, the most formal I erer saw, and read the memori mla again. I wili be with you immediately.' She instantly withdrew, and Walter bent over his task. She went into the room in which the old wnn lay dead, and collected, from the dre^mp-tnble and the chairs, soreral articles of his clothing, and such dressing things as had been unpacked last night, and carried them into the adjoining room. In a moment she swept away her own toilet apparatus, the gown, bonnet, tnd wraps she had travelled in, and every tracr of a feminine presence in the room, locked them m a wardrobe, and replaced them by the thing* helnn^imj lo Mr <*» Qu nt.n. Then dip pulled the blinds down, and pnrliulh drew the b d-cuitau.^i arranging them so as to interpose between occupuntoi the bed and the view of am person m the sitting room Her movement! wert wonderJully swiit, but her thoughts fsp outstripped them. In those few minutes, which defied be r reckoning, every detail of the scheme she- had conceived -who oan tell with what an indefinable instant after her eyes had met the dead eyes—had presented itself to her. Two supremo points of vantage were hers : she only knew that anything hnd occurred within these rooms, and no one bud a right to enter them, unbidden by her. She might even keep the lawyer's clerk waiting, if it should be necessary ; she was not absolutely tied to time. She was not insensible to the danger of the deed she meditated, but she fairly balanced the chances, and th»y were heavily m her favour. There was, in the disposition of the rooms, onli| one slight risk 1 supposing the servants who were to b™ summoned to witness the will should, in relating the circum•tance to their fellows, mention, in the hearing of the housemaid who bad attended them, that Mr St Quentin was in the outer room ? 14 was a risk, but only i little one, and when it came into Miriam's mind, she dismissed it. The c'lances were very much against a, risk occurring, and she must trust something to rhance. A knock at the locked door of the room in which the dead man lay ! Miriam heard, and replied to it instantly, by turning the key and confronting the person who knocked with & warning gesture. It wwoa o Bolton the valet. She stepped into the corridor and softly shut the door. ' I thought I should have found Mrs Haines here, ma'am,' be said, 'as they told me Mr Clint had come- ' Haines is asleep, I hope-,' snid Miriam. ' What is it '' Than Bolton explained. He had found a house, or lodgings, in the vicinity of the hotel, but had heard of a | house about two miles away, on the coast. Should he go and look at it, or would Mrs St Quentin think it too far away ? If his master conld be got into a carriage and moved at all, that distance would make no practical difference. Miriam assented, and felt, with a thrill in her veins, thaQ here was another point in her favour. The lawyer might propose to employ Mr St Quenlin's own servant, rather than a stranger, for the purpose of witnessing his will, and hero was the valet himself proposing what must take him out of the way, without any premedit-ifcion on his purl:. She told liolton that the entirely agreed with him, and begged he would go and see the house at once, and inspect it very carefully. The man was turning away, and she about to open the door, when he t>aid : ' I beg your pardon, ma'am. I iuppo'e there is no change ?' ' No,' replied Miriam ; ' there is no change.' Once more, she went into her own bedroom, and looked carefully round. All was in the disorder proper to a man's room ; she had but to add the order which should attend illness. She was getting used to what she was doing now, and the tenacity of her will stilled her nerves. Without^ tremor, she carried the medicine^uottlea and glasses, the eup^ nnd the flannels, all the sad, significant apparel, away from the dead man's bedside, and arranged them m a corresponding place in the outer room. Only a few minutes had been consumed in these rapid arrangements, and while she was making them, Miriam's gaze was constantly turned upon Walter, sitting with his back towards the open foldingdoors, now writing bu'ily, now thinking, his head resting on his hands. At length she went to him. A sheet of paper on whioh the formal inscription on the flj -leaves before h.m was accurately copied several times, lay on the blottmgbook. Miriam put her arm round his neck, leaned oTer his shoulder, and studied the hm.b of writing minutely. ' Perfect !' was the one word she laid. Then she shut the books, threw thorn into a corner, twisted up the sheet on which "Wnlter had been writing, put it into the fire, where it was instantly consumed ; and, turning to Walter, took him by the arm, saying : 'Come ! in ten minutes the man will be here.' She led him into the adjoining bedroom, gave him an embroidered dressing gown of some soft Indian stuff, and & ! crimson silk nightcap, which she pulled over his foreheacU leaving only a ring of his prematurely grey hair shewmf beneath its border, once more kissed him, said : ' Call Die when you are ready, and be quick !' and returning to the sittnig room, stood near the door, white, rigid, listening. In a few minutes Walter called her softly, and she went to him. His appearance took her by surprise, justly as she had calculated upon his powers of representation. In the the bed, in a judici us half-light lay an old man, propped up with pillows, v.it-h yet seen cd to give him nofupjort, sufficient to counteract the exhaustion which pulled him down irom of! them ; hi» shrunken figure seemed lost in the johls of \bo die^ing-gown, wlom. embroidered sleeves huni* Inrgc, hirsute hands, which certainly had no appearance o^ stieneth. Auain she said one word — 'lerfect!' and placed a oh.nr near the bed, with a little table beside it, en winch were writing material? and a hand-bell. Then an iden struck her ; she Bitted back into the sitting-room, and brought oi «* ■ of fht railway books, with the formal lnicnptioo on the
flv-lraf There was no reawn why it »bo»ld not lie open, among the medicin" '-•"*«, left th™ by the sick man s attendant, »nd - P " * .an's eye. He noted this a P p 5 .vinply, bin -« '> ' •■*»» Ihen, as a Btep •ounded in the , -.' v, «„. wave » r hand to him, and the next iiwt.M. i*' 1 in hers. .1 -to n arm-chair beside tho fire i- ' »'l' n room '' " , ' i ed th folding-doors mm » I « • w "' ' ll « l » d w ' • wan with anxiety ill c her ]. . vra dis, . pushed back frou. ■ * «» * »"y'»" ' bul aw - ' • as it ihould be. a " « ied boY n 1. . a. , -d <- ■ her eye., a. ihe repli. 1 • -»t t - -001 Co .« • It was a waiter, follow m oy a •hort, f»t, bald-heaa.a gentleman, whom bo announced at 'Mr Cli >l fl .'
An anecdote of the lamented animal painter, whoso remiinit ver* fittn.gK phced at real beneath, the dome of St Piul'a Oathodral, on the 11th instant, is worth recording, as • owing the geniahtj and charitableness of hi* character. Not very long before his reoent tedious illness, Sir Edwin La"dsier waa inducod to attend a bazaar neld for won be>o»ol.'nt object As the ermit of the place where the Uz 'ar took pluee was being made, a lady fnend is 6aid to ha\e a^ed the painter how he was going to help them. Sir E.I win answered, " I think I can try to help you," and asking for a iheot of paper and a pencil, he rapidly iketched 1 1 dog. Placing his initials in the corner, ne kandcd back the picture to the young lady. Tho sketch wa« subsequently raißed for, and thereby a handsome addition was made to the funds collected during the day. The Christianity of the pulpit is too controversial, speculative, and dialetic, to c<oni|>h*h any large pnutical "nd. How often do we hem- from the wulpit sermons i'xc'usiv Iy confined to the consideration - f the grounds torn spcculat m> b. lief in the truth of the Christian religion I And th sin the face >f *hosp who would will.njly take something for granted, who hrmsr their yeanlings, care\ hopes, fears, and peip exities. Reeking a little help fro n the ministration-, of the chur-h of their fathers and forefathers; a church in whose cn.ed and belief thousand* of temples hme been nustd ; a church for the i ropagation and enforcement of a. religion upon which is virtually bai-ed e\ery «ocml and political insti ut*m under which we lhe. and whose religion, as a form of creed at least it is presumable, u accepted by everyone joining its congregations. And yet, in place of words of guidance or coun-el, comfort or asMßtanre, pronerly belonging to the function of the pulpit, and specially to Christianity itielf, which would be received unquestionably, what do we hear s A wearisome disquisition from a rhetorical and logical point, of view, to assure us that our religion is simplj a true oue ; and this after almost 19 centuries of adoption, trial, and ex perience ! Such discourses suggest to us the illustrative case of the possessor of an estate who, instead of u«ing it and improving it for the benefit of himself and others, should occupy himself in proving that his title is good and tenure valid.— From the "Quarterly Review." A new style of steam printing press, of the fast kind, especially intended for daily newspapers, has just been perfected" and put in operation in London, by Messrs Hoe and Co. , the well known press makers of New York city. The new press is drsigued for the use of the London Daily Telegraph, a two centpnper, said to havo the largest circulation of any daily newspaper in the world. The improved machine, on a recent trial at Lloyd's paper mill, Bow, actually printed and delivered, in even piles, twenty-two thousand copies of Lloyd's Weekly — a large sheet, in sixty minutes, with the attendance of two men and a boy. The sheets are delivered printed on both sides, and the number of newspaper impressions when the sheet is cut apart by the machine is forty-four thousand per hour. The machine is built on the rotary plan like the Bullock, Walter, and other presses, and is said to yield superior printing. The cost of each press is £17,500. The Telegraph is to be supplied with ten of them, and thus have the means of printing 220,000 copies of the paper imsiity minutes.
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Waikato Times, Volume V, Issue 283, 5 March 1874, Page 2
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2,595CHAPTER XXXV.—ONCE MORE, A WAY OF ECCAPE. Waikato Times, Volume V, Issue 283, 5 March 1874, Page 2
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