CHAPTER XIV.

Waikato Times, Volume XXII, Issue 1851, 17 May 1884, Page 1 (Supplement)

CHAPTER XIV.

(Continued) Ebby did not go back with Heibsrt; he thought a run into Melbourne would be best. He would b?. back for dinner. Herbert found only Mrs. Mostyn at homo, Alice having gone out to visit a girl friend. Mrs. Mostyn looked disturbed, and there was a purple flu ih in her cheek. Herbert took his sect, gradually elaborating in hi« mind a course of procedure. So totally did be Heeua to have forgotten the Bovine lUnk and that if his eneniiea kr>ew Llv^y would, have regretted the trouble and c\p»use tv / had put thsmaelves to for the p»4 few days. - "I have sent foi you, Ml-. Gifford," said Mra. Mostyn, " because J think it is right that before matters proceed too far, we will have an explanation, and know exactly where we are going. I have noticed," she continued, %s Herbert did not reply, " that since you made our acquaintance, you have paid marked attention to Alice. Now, sir, excuse a 'mother when I say, that while I believe you incapable of doing wilful wrong, I fail to see & how this can tend to the happiness of my only H child. I fear that through my inattention |f she has already endangered her futuic. For ' you must know, that her station is such that she cannot aspire to be your wife ; that even if you were generous enough to ofter her your hand, it would be too great a sacrifice to make. These are, I think, sufficient reasons why this acquaintance should cease ; it you require more, I can, unhappily, supply them. Remember I am not to blame for asking your help ; that was Ebby and Alice's work ; I did not know of it." " The reasons given are not sufficient," replied Herbert, in a firm and manly tone, for he had now made up his mind and saw his course clearly. "And I know of none that would prevent me from doing what I contemplate. I am rich and independent, and I now formally ask you, Mrs. Mostyn, to permit me to pay my addresses to your daughter." A deep flush suffused Mrs. Moatyn's face, and she looked eagerly at the handsome, earnest young fellow ; her eyes expressing admiration, but tempered with some inexplioable feeling that threw ita shadow upon her features. " It should make me proud to hear this," " but it is what I expected from one of whom I have formed so high an opinion. But do you know who we are, do you know our antecedents ? Alice has been upon the stage ; I have been a needlewoman." " I know nothing and can know nothing that will alter my determination," was the firm answer. "And," continued Mrs. Mostyn, still keeping her keen eye 3 fixed upon Herbert's face, " Ebby's parents were a frightful pair and died fearful deaths, and Ebby himself was once a strange character." "He's the dearest, best fellow in the world," answered Herbert, and deserve 3 the greatest credit for becoming what he is after such a youth. As to his father and mother, why should the sins of the parents be visited upon the child." A strange spasm passed over Mrs. Mostyn's face. "At present," she said, after a while, " you are pursuing a vengeance, you are making the children suffer for the parent. There may bo other vengeances besides yours." "Possibly, possibly," replied Herbert, II but I do not know if now I will persevere in that vengeance, for the love I bear Alice aeems to have taken all thoughts of it out of my boul. I desire, under this new influence to be at peace with all, even William Whinatun " " You must not, you shall not be at peace with him," cried Mrs. Mostyn, rising up in great agitation, thoroughly startling her visitor, who had thought her incapable of such violent emotion ; " you must proceed with your vengeance. Upon that condition alone will I consent to Alice becoming your wife. It seems to me," she continued with energy, " that heaven has worked steaaily up to this point to accomplish the punishment of William Whinstun, and to restore John Morden to his rights through hie child." She sank back exhausted. Her words seemed to Herbert those of insanity. " John Morden, unhappily, is dead," he said. " He may be," was the reply, " but I doubt it. That letter. You have it still ? " "Yes,'^ said Herbert. " Give it to me," she said, impulsively. " I will open it ; I have the right." " I hardly think so, bad as is the man to whom it is addressed," replied Herbert. " I tell you," said Mrs. Mostyn, who seemed greatly excited, and who was trembling all over, " that I recognised the handwriting on the note. You saw my agitation. Look, look ; compare tbie with the address on the letter. The handwriting is most remarkable." Herbert took the old, faded letter. His eyes ran over the contents : — " Dear Alice, — I will never see you again. The disgrace is too great for me to bear. What does it matter if others, not I, are to blame— the world . believes them, not John Morden. If I re- "' mainea here I would but disgrace you. Goodbye, love ; I seek another world, but wherever I go the remembrance of the few happy . months we spent together will be the only gleam of sunshine in my life. Yours for -6V«£JOHN MOBDEN." ; <V "The two are in Bis handwriting," said *-' Herbert, who was greatly excited. " Then he >■ BtiU lives," . iy- "But where?" cried Mrs. Mostyn. "The V, t letter to Whinstun reveals the secret. Open $w |fev r<< lt would be wrong," said Herbert. |||?« Open it," »aid Mm. Mostyn, imperiously.

•I lnvtf tho right to a-.k i:. I a-u Join 'lorden'--" wife. Now you understand." Herbert started back. The surpiise was ll ke a thunderbolt. "And Alice is John Morden'B daughter," continued Mrs. Mostyn, " You comprehend now what I meant, that John Morden's wiongs would be avenged by the punishment of Willi :m Whinstun, the prime mover in the evil done him, and by the marriage of his daughter to the son of his other enemy, the ■nan Grift'onl, thus restoring to his family (nat of which he had been robbed. These are eventualities I have contemplated since >ou made our acquaintance. Heaven workfc '•lowly, but works well." For some time Herbert could not speak. Tins revelation came upon him wholly without preparation. He had, when acting against Whinstun, had in view the avenging of Morden with others, and he had honestly determined if he found any relatives of that roan to do tho generous by them. But to think that he was to repair the wrongs his father had dono to Alice's by so pleasant an act aa marriage went beyond his expectation. His whole frame glowed with delight ; he fully believed this to be an evidence of the overruling eye of Providence. " I cannot describe to you, Mrs. Morden, 'v^at pleasure this gives me," said Herbert, his voice trembling with delight. " I never dreamed I could in this way take the greatest blot off my fatiier's memory, his treatment of hie earliest friend." " That blot can never be removed," said Mrs. Morden shortly. " Open that letter. I mu-t know when my husband wrote it — if he is still alive. Perhaps," — here a light grew in her eyes — " when you are married you can find him out and restore him to his wife and daughter. How gloiious to see John Morden as&i-me his proper place, and William WhmatuD wandoiing the streets where he should be — a vagabond ; he is a rogue aheady." Herbert vrtvs: a trifie displeased at the vindietivene3s Mr*. Morden displayed, but he made allowance for her feelings. William Whinstuu and his father had crushed her and hers down to the earth, had made her husband an outcast and wanderer, and broken her health and forced her to labor. Her feelings were natural if not Christian. Seeing he did not open the letter she took it hastily out of his hands and opened it, wh.oh was easy, us the gum had ceased to hold. She eagirly read the contents, her face becoming radiunt, aud then with a look oft'lamph n .h2 hamWii co Herbsit. " Jt is the hand of Providence," she said in a ringing tone. "Who will now say that God in ii.it! own time doo3 not make all thin-;.-! coioe right." Herbert read the letter, a very short one. '• Wiliia>n Wlnnston, the name at ihe foot of this, if you do not recognise the hand, id will be to you the writing upon tho wall. Know, cunning, crafty fox, remorseless fiend, that your victim, John Morden, still lives ; yes, aad lives in happiness, buch as you never will possess. I doubt not, the world has prospered with you ; it ever does with sueh — and that you have triumphed over and mined raaay a .nan to whom I was but a dwarf, for thin;,"3 murt bo different now to what they were in my time. I simply watc to let you know— for it will grieve you — that I live; that I am hippy, and that I feel certain your time is about to arrive. I cannot laave here, but I will bo content, for something tells iae your day is at hand ; and, when the dark day come-i, on your death-bed zemeuiber John Morden. Dated from the Enchanted Island."' It was a strange letter. Why could Morden not leave the strangely-named island ? 11 You will be •uirpiised that he has not wiitten to me, ' said Mis. Morden. " But that i» Cdbily explained. Sit down, and I will relate 10 you the strange history of my life, which will clear up much that must have been a mystoxy to you."