Penarth Chronicle and District Advertiser

i [ALL Rianrs RESIltVZD.1 r NO: ROBBER Y. ET HENRY FRITH. /tithor of "The Mystery of Moor Farm," "On the Wincjs of the Wind," Through Flood, Through r Fi1 e," fc., &c. CHAPTER XXIX.' THE GENERAL'S RETURN.—A DISAPPOINTMENT. WHEN Lucy lay ton was informed of the sad and eudden death of poor George Collier, she first experi- enced a sense of relief, but this selfish feeling did not last long, She recalled all his tenderness and love in the old days, his constancy and friendship in the later times; the kind heart and simple faith which had piade him ever welcome to all, and the tears started to her eyes. She felt she would never have such a friend again. < It is always thus. When we have a friend we do pot value him or her-the old parallel can he drawn daily. We do not care for what we possess, but when we lose it we feel the want of it-no matter what it may be, money,'friendship, or love. So with Lucy and Collier. Though she had never really loved him, his faith and steadfastness had J impressedher very deeply, and she would have married Jaim as she had agreed to do had not death so suddenly Snatched him away. It was very sad. Everybody respected the late inspector, and the expressions of regret andj condolence with Lucy Layton were Unanimous, and crowds attended the funeral. Minnie was fortunately spared the sudden shock which the news of his death would have caused her by being taken to the Hail, where I ady Deane, titer the first and private interview with her so long- absent husband was over, paid her as much attention jas could have been expected. Lady Deane bad already remarked the likeness between her husband and Minnie, and Captain Rushleigh had seen it also the moment Minnie entered the railway carriage. There was some mystery here which he could not penetrate, and Lady Deane could of course say notlrng. Marmaduke Deane had hardly recognised Minnie when he was sent for by the General, who wished to have an oppoitunity to speak w'th him alone. Something that Lady Deano' had l"t fall during their interview and lengthened conversation, born of long absence, had in a measure prep red the General for a son and heir not after his own heart. This was even with the joy of a happy and honored return to his home, in his heart a ù-isallpointment" He felt some difficulty in sustaining. He sat in the library waiting for the young man to come to him, and the uppermost feeling in his heart was that of bitterness. Ho had pictured to himself as he returned how glad h' should be to welcome his son. How the youth would come out to meet him, and how the sacrcdinterview with wife and child would be held in happy i rivacv and 'love. But what were the faets r Ais untoward accident bad nearly cost him his life. His arrival at home was not greeted by the heir, whose doociencies had in a measure been concealed by his loving wife, for phe knew quite well the teriihle disappo ntment General Sir William V.C., would experience when he found his son so far beneath him in manner and appearance—the high rank and station for which he himself had toiled and striven. He had made a name for himself, and he had hoped to transmit it unsullied to all irreproachable son. Alas, if all his forebodings wer« true, 1 is antici- pations would never be accompli hed. The son oi is heart was rude, rouirh, and, worse than all, had get his mind upon an nllmnce which, however well conducted the girl might be, could never bring the honour or prosperity and station with it which he. Sir W illiam, had a right to expect. Even now he was kept- waiting for the young man who, had he possessed a. tittle of respect and affec- tion, would, have been at hand to welcome him Nc wonder Sir Williu.n was bitter, and that his heart Was sorely grieved. At length the door of the library was opened, and Marmsidnko pr.sirnt^d hiinsnlf. lie had no idea what he ought to do or say. Towards hit parents and relatives ho was not demonstrative. He kept all his energy in that direction for Minnie Layton, or any other lady who happened to let him perceive that his attent ons wre not dis- agreeable. So lie came in shyly. Sir William, who had at any rate expected that the lad wou'd exhibit, some signs of affection, was ready and willing to meet him as it wer<3 half wav. lie wai anxious to se-i him and ah with him, but when Marmaduke paused, with his hind upon the lock of the door and did not attempt to co:nc in, the General felt as much anger as disappointment. 11 Weil, Marmaduke, have yon nothing to sav to me—to your father?" sa, d the (General. "Have you no welcome for me, now that we moot for the first timer" 2WarmHduke advanced, and. feeling dreadfullv bored and dull, took the General's outstretched hand and said— "How arc you? Are you quite well? We Scarcely expected you so sum." Then Marmaduke withdrew bjs hand, and took cut his handkerchief to wipe his tetCO. And this was the meeting the General liifi antici- pated so long. "How are you ? We scarcely expected you His son and heir welcomed him at home like this! "Sit down, Marmaduke. T.et me look at you. Close here. Why, what's the ma ter with your mouth? Been fighting r I hope not." "Yes I have," replied Marmaduke bluntly, "nut I gave about as good as T g .t. We had a tm-n-UD about Minnie—thit girl in the drawing-room. I like her, and, I say, does cut up ro;igh about it I can tell you." I have spoken to your mother on the snb-'ect. The girl has rendered us all au immense saved our lives in fact, and she appears a very lady- like young zirl. But marriage, my dear Manna- duke, with her is out of the question." Why ? I like her, and-" "Even if she liked you—and you know whether fhe does or not She would if that idiot Watson didn't ( her. He is a cad, I can tell you. We had a regular get to.' Let me see the girl," governor." ") Governol' ;This Wil in the old General's ears a terrible title. To be called governor officially was music to his ear. in his command, but to be addressed so by his vulsrar son—for, alas, the General could not hide the truth from himself—was ltl) TY1"'11 n""

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I BignaI-Ddx oraiong tEe une, of, belter""stTn^liTohg the wide-spreading sands with George Collier were all at an end. Her mother, too, felt the loss she hall sustained, and was reserved and silent. But thfl return of the General had a good deal to do witli that. *4 How could she promote her plan ? Minnie absol lutely refused to see Marmaduke Deane. She hateflj him," she said, and all the representations Mril Layton could make were disregarded. One day Lucy came in, terror in her face. Shfl had seen a ghost! There could be no mistake. It had appeared to her in a small path where there was no :escape tc4 the right hand or to the left. She was penued in like the animal on which Balaam rode-, and she almost fell down from sheer terror. But Unlike the ass, she did not speak, and the figure disappeared. Whenshecame home she told her" daughter" thaf she intended to leave the cottage, unless she (vTinmeJ would consent to see Marmaduke Deane, and ondea.- vour to school herself to his addresses. A5 innie declined firmly, and an animated discus- sion and scene of recrimination arose, in the midoi of which the girl left the house in a flood of tearaj aod carrying all her ready money in her pocket, an a small bundle, declared she would put up with sueH persecution no longer. She would seek General Deane and ask his advice. She was running into the lion's mouth, for" Sandy" Sam had carried her a pencilled note, signed E. Wi begging her to come to the corner of the wood and consult about their prospects. t He will tell me what to do," she thought. "i can go with him if he likes to take me. I cannot •top at home and be persecuted day after day aboui that horrible man. He shall decide." J Of course all this was very unconventional. Minnie ought to have known better, but she had not had the advantages cf the School Board education, and was moreover somewhat self-willed. So she rani away to escape Mrs. layton's importunities, yet, like ( another young lady, who is in my mind as I write, she fell from the frying pan into the fire." Sandy Sam had, in conjunction with the in- fatuated Marmaduke, laid his plans well. Minnia had crushed the note as soon as she had glanced ail it, too greatly agitated to remark the very scribbled manner in which it was written. Her brain was busied with one idea-to escape Mannar duke and her "mother's" pleading and impor": tunities in his favour. 4 She fell into the trap. Marmaduke was waiting for her in the corner of the wood. Sandy Sam was close by. Minnie turned pale and then red as she guessed the note was a forgery. j to glad you have come, Minnie." said Marma* duke respectfully enough. I did not expect yod so soon. Sam, you needn't wait close. I wish to speak to Miss layton." Sandy" Sam withdrew to a discreet distance, and watched the pair intently. Mr. Deane, do you mean to say you wrote that note on purpose to draw me out here ?" I'm afraid I did, Minnie, but you see I had no choice, and you are prepared to come with me, I see." Do you ? Then let me tell you I never expected to see you, and don't want to either. So I ami. punished enough already. Now, don't detain me*; don't dare to touch me She drew herself to her full height, and, young as- she was, there was a dignity about her which Marmaduke recognised, and made him, unfortu- nately, admire her all the more. I don't want to hurt you, Minnie. I have your mother's consent to marry you. So I will. You will consent, won't you?" "Listen, Mr. Deane. If there was not another man in the world I wouldn't marry you. I detest you, particularly since you have persecuted me so. Why can't you leave me alone ? 1 am going to Hall now, so let me pass." Marmaduke had flushed angrily at the contempt expressed for him, and had faced her on the narrow path. Now listen to me, Miss Minnie. You shall marry me by fair means if you will-by foul means if you- will not. My plans can't give way to yours. I love you, and have made up my mind to have you for my wife. So come along. No screaming or you will repent it," "And this is your love, is it? To carry a girl off by force! I'll die first. Help! Help! U Ah, you may scream; nobody will hear you now. It's too late. Here, Sam, just bear a hand, wiU you? She's uncommonetrone." Sam approached, and Minnie, with a sinking heart and half-fainting with terror, had still pre- sence of mind enough to perceive that resisteme was useless. Don't touch me," she cried. Stand aside, you cowards. Oh! if George Collier was alive, he'd soon put you out of sight. What do you want ? Come with me. My trap it waiting. I swear I intend you no injury. Consent to be my wife, and I will be content. I will do you no violence. But mine you shall be. I can't do without you. Minnie, do be reasonable! 8he looked at him almost in pity. He had lost all his high tone, and had already began to plead. There was hope yet. Mr. Deane —Marmaduke—I will call you so if you like. We used to be friends. I used to like you, but lately you have become quite different. You are a gentleman, born and bred. I am only a cottage girl; yet when I tell you I cannot love you "Because you love Edward Watson, I suppose," he said, roughly. 11 Yes, I do, and we are engaged. Now, Mr. Deane, you see how impossible it is 11 that I can marry you. You may carry me off, and perhaps murder me—I can't tell; but you cannot make me love you. I could like you, but you are so different." "I wish you were, Minnie," he said, more gentry. Marmaduke—Mr. Deane—do have pity on me. I am driven away from home on your account. Mother is always at me to marry you. I can't, I won't- I'd rather die!" H "You must, Minnie, I can't bear to lose you. H I am a fool," he burst out violently. By H Gad, you nearly talked me over. No, I'm not such H a fool as to give you up now I have done all this! H It's getting dark, my lady," he continued, suddenly H changing his tone, and before daylight comes again H you and I will be far away from here. Come, no H yelling, or, by Jingo, I'll gag youH He seized her in his powerful arms as he spoke, and ere she was scarcely aware of his intention ho had carried her into the wood far from the footpath. She screamed as loudly as she could, but Sandy Sam, who was les, scrupulous than his employer, thrust a handkerchief tightly into her mouth and nearly

"You must address me as 'father,' Marmaduke,, if you please," said Sir William, loftily. I strongly object to the term you have just made use of. Please remember that in future. Now tell me what are your plans and pursuits." Marmaduke then gave his parent a full account of his late proceedings and hopes for the future. He did not conceal anything, and the glib manner of speaking, combined with the many slang expressions with which he garnished his narrative, made a not agreeable impression upon the aristoctatic General, who, indeed, felt sore distressed. A ter an hour's conversation, Marmaduke took himself off to hunt rats, and Sir William, scarcely 'hiring to meet his wife at the moment, so disap- pointed did he feel, was glad- to run against Captain r.ushleigh, who was always deep in his confidence. With him Sir William took a walk round the house, leaving lady Deane in her boudoir expecting him momentarily to return. When she looked out after a time, she perceived Marmaduke rushing off to his rat hunt, and soon noticed Sir William and his friend arm in arm in close conversation. I am sure, she thought, William might have devoted this afternoon, at any rate, to m- But Sir William was very deep in his confabula- tion with his friend. Rushleigh," he said, I am puzzled, and, I con- fess, disappointed. How is it P You are a close student of human nature. Can you put two throughbreds together and expect to find a cart- horse ?" C P No," replied the captain; "it's not in Nature. The strain will come out. I suppose you allude to yourself and your son ? "Yes. It is, perhaps, a conceited parallel to draw, but it will serve the occasion. How is it possible that such a lad as my son can have been born of such a mother ? Lady Deane is thoroughbred to the back- bone. The boy-God forgive me-is a cad I can't help saying it, Rushleigh. He is not a gentleman." I think you have been expecting too much," replied the captain, "The youth is not a bad fellow, as far as I can see. He is shy and reserved—pas- sionate if you will, but wants leading. A gentle firm hand would bring him round. He is not bad look- ing he is tall and strong, and in excellent condi- Ron. If he were my son I would send him to college, a tome large public school." *'?<a, you are right, Rushleigh; I have been ex- pecting too much. I have pinned my heart so to that lad that I am, rightly punished for my satfiah- ness. Yes; he shall go to a public school and forget all about this Minnie Collier girl." Rushleigh was on the point of mentioning the great likeness which existed between her and the General, but he refrained. He determined to ascer- tain the origin of this curious coincidence and with that object he sought an interview with Minnie in the house. But by the time he had soothed his old friend and found himself at liberty to question the young lady he found she had been sent home in charge of one of the servants, and all he could do was to ask where she was to be found. General Deane, at dinner that evening, communi- cated to his wife, and indirectly to his son, his newly- made determination to send the' latter to school or college, and the young man registered a mental vow to run away sooner than be so humiliated! Was he who had been educated at home by a long-suffering tutor, and permitted to have all his own way when- ever he pleased; was he to be sent to college, when he would be put under restraint, and made to' learn "beastly" Latin aLl Greek? "Not much," he said to himself., 'Then another brilliant idea struck him. He might certainly run away, but what if het carried Minnie with him? All was fair in war and love. Minnie might be induced to meet him, and then he fancied he could persuade her to marry him, for, selfish as Marmaduke Deane was, he was honourably disposed to the girl, and really intended to make her his wife. He trusted to time to create an affection for him if he could only persuade her to leave home. Humility and penitence were his best cards, and these he determined to play at first. t-{ He had no real doubt respecting her eventual acceptance of his overtures when she JJfound no immediate escape. So the only difficulty Marma- duke had to encounter was the attendance of the girl at the place he intended to meet her. Perhaps he could enlist her mother in the plot. She was quite willing to let him marry Minnie. If his own plan failed, he would request Mrs. Layton to use her parental authority. J'eantime he made his preparations secretly. n. packed up some things, and put by all his ready money. By degrees, as he had a handsome allow- ance, he managed to save a considerable sum, and he found to his hands an easy tool in the person oi I Stn d'v Sam, who was ready and willing to perpe- trate any act of villainy if he were only paid suffi- ciently high. u'i -.r While amiaduke and his ally were plotting the abduction ot the innocent Minnie layton, she was J busil}' engaged in shaping her own destiny—quite independently of mother or father. The old story scarcely needs telling. She had made her choice, I and the devotion of young Watson had touched her heart. lie had sought her love, declared his passion, and thus, unknown to all but him, Minuip had plighted her troth to Edward Wat so ¡ CHAPTER XXX. AN AMBUSH AND A DISCOVERT. MINNIE missed her "Uncle George" very muctU He appeared to her in the light of a parent. She looked up to him for advice and assistance, and when she saw her d ar "uncle," as she persisted in calling him, carried to the little churchyard, her grief knew no bounds. For the first time in her life she then felt the want of a companion, and her heart desired a confidant. It i, that whe n an engagement between two young people has been broken off, and— Alas how light a cause may move Oissention between hearts that love, that they arc more prone to attach themselves to other "athnities" af.er such a rupture. My own experience does not warrant me in under-writing I this s'atorncnt, but it has been said so, and a girl once deprived of her lover will cast her tendrils upon some other object, as the ivy torn from one place will eliag to another, and grow up green and strong again. M ind, I do not commit myself to this theory as exemplified in humanity. I only give it expression and think it probable. At any rate Minnie'found herself very lonely after poor Uncle George' died, and her usual walk to the