The Rhos Herald

[All RIGHTS ftEs-rniraopJk The Face at the Window BY H. BARTON JAKEIt Dorothy Forrester was tlu ig in the old oak panelled parlour oi tcie house which, time out of mind, had be*- i tLr home of the stewards of Westleigh Manor. A cheerful wood fire blazed upon the Xuvirth, and the table was set with 6.11 tl1ø appurtenances for a substantial tea. Though night ?♦>•> I set in, Dorothy, whose pretty fair face t ed gad and sorrowful in the glowing fireligh'. absorbed in thought of an absent dear one, had forgotten to draw the curtains across f 3 wkis> low set latticed window, through «sms ;the darkness of the gloomy, boisterous, raniy,, autumnal even- ing, in vivid contrast to the brightness and comfort of the rest of the apartment. Presently a man's face was pressed against the latticed panes, and through the moaning and the sighing of the wind among the trees was heard a tapping at the gia»». Dorothy started up, trttl her alarm was checked by a voice, wlticti could be just heard through the wind, calling, ''Don't be frightened, it is f, EVerard I" Was she sleeping or waking"? Was it he of whom she had been dreaming, whom she had parted from a year ago, whom she believed to be far away in as dlitittit whom she feared that she mighí; mrer 'see again 1 Dorothy ran and t>p,mad the casement; a jaan raised himself from the juden bed be- neath and clambered into the room, caught hsr in his arms- and kisssed her p#«»ioaat«ly. Trembling with surprise audagitation, she broke away from him, re-ekised this lattice, and drew the curtains together. "Everard she exclaimed, "can it be you?" Well might sbe ask tlw question, for there was little to remind her of gay, handsome ISverard Champion, as he lived in her mind's eye, in this haggard-looking, chkerapt mai), iu soiled, worn Imperial Yeomanry uni- form that stood before her; only the bright loving eyes and the fK>!t, musical voice were the saBLe. "All the Veldt hnn Mt of me," he answered. "Dorothy give me soniething to eat, I am almost famishing--—a most unlover- like remark." he added, laughing; "but I hvtc not my fafft to day, 1 cannot get my arrears of pay liocn the War Office and am penniless, and so I have come down to ,"r eileigh to make an appeal to my stony- hearted father. And when? is yours?" "He has gone toy aii(I may be back any minute." "We shall hear him coming, and I must make my exit by the I entered," cried JSverard. cutting a thick slice of the ham that stood upon the table, and devouring it hungrily with a hunk of broad, white Dorothy plied him with other refreabroarnts. "I suppose I don't look much like the heir to the Champions who fought at Crecy and Agincourt," he Mid with a laugh, "but pro- bably when my ancestor made one of King Harry's liost on St. Crispin's Day he was not much less of a tatterdemalion tfian I am now, though he wore steel instead of fchakt." When his hunger was appeased, which was very quickly, he and Dorothy 'sat together before the lire, had claspcd in hand, obli- vions of the momentarily expected steward, while he related wfncthi-ig of hi# adventures. "You never told me the cause of the quarrel with your father, f.¡îd, Dorothy. "No-o," answered El »wue hesi- tation. "'Had it anything to do with me?" asked Dorothy, anxiously. "Well, I told him r loved someone who, thDugh she was not in the name rank of life as myself, was fitted to adorn any station, and that I would never marry any ritlier-I did not mention your mum-, or even indicate whom it. might be. He treated-, my words with contempt, said he had other plans for my future, and if I refused to obe," him he would discard, disown me. and not allow me a pnny. We had a row. I started for London and enrolled in the Yeomanry," Oh. Everard, did 1 not tell yon it could never b-L-, that such an engagement could only bring nnhappiness upon yoa, that 1 was not fitted to be your wife "I will not hear you blaspheme your own dear self. which is goddess of my idolatry," cried Eterard, catching her hi his arms and smothering her words with a Max. "If I were & King none other should aha! my throne. My father cannot cut off 1h entail, and you ahali be inietress of Wcut feigh Manor vet. But we rmish keep our he must not guess it; for your father s Mkt*. And now I am going to heard the lion in liiw den. I am going up to the Manor for money I must and will have." As lie Mpoke the young man rose from his coat, and there was a fire in his eye that de- noted a coming storm. "But if he refuses to see Omu P" said Dorothy, anxiously. He would refuse if I gave him the chance, but I know how to g-ain admission without asking his leave, and he will auddenly find me standing before him." ,¡ "Restrain yourself, deari do not be vio- lent," said Dorothy, laying her hands upon liis shoulder and looking'Hp' tearfully into his face, wherein she read signs of excitement that troubled her. "I will do my but I'm a desperate im Su. lie was interrupted bv the sound of horse's boots approaching the lunifie. "It is mv father. He will go round to the stables. Von will have just time to get ■•"way." Si, o raii to the window, pulled ivide, the .curtam. threw open the lattice aud looked out. All wsis dark, no sound iJ.8 that of the wind. there^ is one important thing I forgot to auction," Evrard. ''(Quick, quick, some .w# is eomlsg," she 4:ned. He snatched a hasty kiss and vaulted out into the darfciiess. 'Before. :th could close the window a maid servant came into the room with the tea. All was ma% again how- ever by the time an uoti looking, grizzled- haired man followed. What s the matter? How white and Strange you look:" he said, fixing his keel) grey eve* upon her. "1 was growing- rather anxious about roil, father." "I went np to the Manor before I returned with the money from tlnr sale, t don't care about having it in the .house/' "How did it turn Ollt. "liad., and I the Hqnire iu a fnm. I Biet.temper has been, getting wor:c and | since Mr. Everard went off so uuddenly, J wonder wlIat the row was about?" Dorothy bn.ied hcr.-ici{ with catting tùli Itam and bread awl b'»-f.r and 'pottrin^r' w'v the tea. 1 don't know what's come to sons cow< dajr». When 1 was young I had to obe> rr.v father without question. Ah. it's a wV'kprl rebellious age. Joliii Forrester was not thinlcinjr of Everard Champion at that inomeni:, but of Ms own son whom he had expelled froSn ijon-.e through much more serious pi'ovoc.'it-on tha" Everard had given the Squire. When he had finished his tea he lit his pipe and ensconced himself in an easy chair by "the fire, wrapt in gloomy thoughts" about" that bad scapegrace son of whom lie had heard no- thing for a year, but who was verv much in hia jai-Lid ttiat night, while Dorothy was troubled with dark forehodings as to what might be tbe result of her lover's meeting with his stern and passionate father. & They were roused by the sound of a gallop- ing horse. It stopped at the garden gate, and a man's voice was heard shouting "Mr' Forrester, lr. Forrester." 0" "What's thnt-something wrong5" ex- claimed the steward, as he hurried out into the fong paasag-e that led from the parlour. With an awful presentiment of evil Dorothy followed him. A man, white and scared, was coming to- wards them-Forreater recognised him as one of the servants from the Manor. "Mr. Forrester—Mr. Forrester," he cried breathlessly. COT1)e tip at once-the Squire has been murdered 1" Dorothy's mind became blank, when she re- covered consciousness she was leaning against the wall of the passage. Her father was gtwse. She was alone. The house was de- serted, and it was with difficulty she groped hr way back to the parlour and sank down siek and faint into a chair. There had been a terrible quarrel, she thtmgM. Mr. Champion, in his :fierce and ungovernable temper, perhaps, had struck his mil—and then — Oh, GÙd! Burying her fare in her hands and cowering in her chair she shivered from head to foot with the hor- ror of the picture lie conju red up. Suddenly she lifted her face and listened. Baric f There was an impatient tapping at the casement, and Hto well known voice— v!" She had the pre- sence of mind to lock the door before she tore had¡; the curtains and nnfastenc-d the win- dow, Ind the next moment Everard Cham- piou umpod into the room. Dorothy fell back u>I clung to a chair, while he refastened the i »v>i«ent »nd drew the curtains. Then he ( 'rt f to the white-faced girl. Dorothy," he said, looking into her eye, Irave heard of—you think me guilty, I but S swear before God I am innocent." His Jip-i w«k> colourless and his speech indistinct, for 111'1 tovs»ne was parched, but there was an fnteiw'ty in his tone and manner that could Hot faii to convince. a cry <sf thanksgiving Dorothy fell into his arms, choking her sobs upon his brp.-mt. He half carried her to a couch and sat dawn beside her holding her in his arms. "lift roc tell you what I know," he went on. "There is an old window covered by ivy in tha di-sused part pf the Manor that. I have ) frequently availed myself of when I wanted < to get in and out of the house without being [ observed. I climbed up the ivy, entered I through the window, and made my way on- j seen toward* the library, where my father Tno«tty sfienda his evenings. There was not a servant about. I pushed open the door, and I there to m v horror I saw him lying back' life- less in his chair, his throat covered with | bkx.«l. Papers and an empty money bag J were lying upon the table. Horror-struck as [ I was it rushed upon me what it would mean | to be caught in such a position. I rang the bell violently to bring help, and made my way baclc as I came. You know the old will,, that I am speaking of faces the stab- ling. By the time I had scrambled down the ivy all place was in nn hproar. A ser- vant galloped off to Westleigh-green to fetch a doctor and inform the police, while a second was dispatched t<> your father." Dorothy listened to this narrative with irre- pressible relief; for every other consideration was lost in the thought that it. dispelled all the terrible suspicion of a moment before. I "Robbery evidently was the object of the, crime," continued Everard^ "for I heard that I the money Mr. Forrester had a little while before handed over to my father was gone. But you may imagine my consterna- tiou and bewilderment when I overheard one erf the lootinen say that a man in khaki, run- ning. through the hall door, had been "wen." As iN spoke Dorothy gripped his hand with a whi-ijured "Hush." Both distinctly heard the sound of someone or something brushing against tite witidovr. They sprang to their feet. Someone is there," whispered Dorothy. "You have been followed. Go in there," pointing to a large closet, "while 1 look if there ia anyone outside." there ia anyone outside." Everard glided into the hiding-place, keep- in the door slightly ajar, so as to be ready to dart out should any danger menace her. A wild gust Of wind shook the window and dashed the rain against it, as Dorothy, with trembling hands, pulled the curta,ina apart. A cry broke from her lips as she saw a wild cadaverous face pressed against the diamond panie». For a moment she re-closed the hang- ings, holding them tightly together. Everard half emerged from the closet, but she waved him back. "Hide, hide," she whispered, "don't stir for your life, it is my brother Jack," With an exclamation, which expressed M»nw#thing more ttiall astonishment, Everard withdrew again, but still kept th? door ajar. Strange thoughts were rushing upon his mind. Again Dorothy pulled open the curtains. The face was still there. Again Dorothy pulled open the curtains. The face was still there. "Dorothy," whispered a hoarse voice, "for God'iJ sake let toe iu. I know you are alone." 8he admitted him. He a young nialt about five and twenty, ihe _:tile age as Krerard, the same build, but with a bad, weak face, that was now oon- -by fear. ljike Eyerard, he was dressed in There weTe stains upon it and upsn band that looked like blood. "J have met with an accident—what are you staring at like an idiot? Go to my old rl'&n quick as lightning and bring me down Kwe clothes. I fan change in there," point- ing to the closet where Everard was con- cealed. I Dorothy stood gazing at him with a face not less full of horror than his own. "But what does it mean. Where have you been? 1 w !r you come from?" she gasped. "Ask no questions, but do as 1 tell you," cried the ruffian, advancing threateningly. A» he did. so an iron hand gripped him by j he back of the neck., "Lei me go, let me go," lie howled, "you j bun* t%ko me alive. I tell you I've not done au\thi']j.' J "¥ou be. you villain, you are the murderer oi my father," answered the stern voice of f changing his grip so as to bring the felfew i'.akce to face with him. I Jack J'srtxester's jaw dropped, ud Everard | had to hold him up to save him from falling j to the ground. j "My poor Dorothy," pursued Everard, "it j is a dreadful revelation to make to you,, but there is no help for it. I met this man at the there is no help for it. I met this man at the office in London where, the Yeotmmry'were en- rolled bent upon the same errand as myself. He attached himself to me and I did my best to keep him straight, but not very success- fully. He came home in the same ship with me. He stuck to me like a leech, and fol- lowed me to Weslleigh, where I left him while II I came on here. All this I was going to tell you when your father's arrival hurried me away." Dorothy listened as though carved in stone; this was the end of all, the bond of their love was for ever cancelled in blood. "What has this to do with the murder of the old Squire," demanded the ruffian, trying to pluck up courage. "It's more likely to fee your work than mine, and you want to make me the scapegoat." "You scoundrel!" retorted Everard be- tween his clenched teeth. "I understand it all. You heard at Westleigh-green of the- sale. You followed your father to the Manor. I You would have been villain enough to attack him, but he is hale and strong, so you pre- ferred an old man. You know every inch of the Manor. You could easily gain admittance unseen. Now look me in tho face and teii itre- I lie. Look me in the face and swe-ir to me by yourTiopes of salvation that you are inno- cent!" But the miscreant could not look into those flaming eyes, he could only cower and tremble. With withering contempt Everard went on, "Monstrous as your crime is, I will not give you to the hangman. I spare you for others' sake. Dorothy fetch him the clothes and thea let him go. 1 leave him to God." "Oh, Everard, how noble you are!" Dorothy burst forth. Ten minutes afterwards the murderer was fleeing from the Red Spectre through the storm and darkness. When they were alone again, Everard would fain have taken the crushed and sob- I bing girl in his arms, but she shrank from him. "No, no, Everard," she cried. "You must never touch me, never think of me again. I am atained with blood." Absorbed in each other, neither had heard I the door open, and both were unconscious of another's presence until they were startled by tho harsh voieo of John Forrester. "What is this about? Who are Mr. BTerard The name was uttered in no friendly tone, and with a suspicious look. "What of my Is be still living," demanded Everard. Yea, and likely to live. He fainted from loss of blood, but the wound is not danger- ous. He was attacked from bel)i a man in khaki. Do you know anything about it, young man?" "Isothing," answered Everard. firmly. "Well, I'm glad to hoar it, but it's ray d«.ty to send for the cor.able and do's.hi you till he comes. And at the same time j want to know what you tire doh.g hero ai.- with mv .daughter?" As Forrester laid his Land upon the bell Dorothy cried out "Mold. faihor. I must I speak, much as it costs me. Your son—-my j brother Jack-—is th? criminal, and sor our sake Mr. aid has let him escape." The steward, wiih a. one to the other for a second or t n> as it ii ■ j had been death s!nieV. Then n '• a crv to Heaven he fell .w h\ s upon the four. A few davs afterw-i••d*' ib.1 bed-- of She 'I'U'ctdwd ,Jlh"; Furl'<o", \¡ fop (1 Pouring j upon th? surface of a de -p po d s.t r,,j]^ from the !>. ••> In his v, il .flj-Mt 'lirouyh the darhv- :h» bw; h-<h ¡S,lÏr,e Chi' (purely, reeov^ vd fi om t jonr i | killed in <•>■ h» e, t j mas^r of ''••■ ■' i-.Litallcd :■ i

LINERS OF THE AIR. It is understood that from twenty t. twenty-fire financial institutionii and wealthy persons have subscribed for the formation of a company, to be known as the Air Naviga- tion Company, to conduct a service of dirigible balloons and aeroplaneii betwee* Berlin and the principal German cities. Tits idea is stated to be to idevelop aerial navigation rather than to make a profit. The company, which hopes to pay all or nearly all its expenseafrotn tourist and other tra:ffic, has arranged for the purchase of air-ships of the Zeppelin and Parseval types, and also of a Wright aeroplane, if that machine proves to be adaptable for long cross-couutry lights. The Air Navigation Company proposes ts begin working an aerial line in spring.

DOUBLE DROWNING FATALITY. I After a prolonged search of the river at Potter Heigham, Norfolk, the bodies of two men who went boating on Monday and failed to return were recovered. They were Gregory Page, aged thirty-five, tram driver, Yarmouth, and Charles Page, twenty-three, accountant, liinnaker-road, Cricklswood. Page had been I staying at Yarmouth for his holidays, and the men were cousins. Gregory Page was a mar- ried man with a family, but Charles Page was I single.

Canon George Pruen Griffiths, vicar of 8t. Mark's, Cheltenham, who has just died, at the age of 83, was practically the ere.'tor of the parish. He was ordained sixty ago. The "Neue Freie Presse states that all the Powers have agreed to the proposal to raise Monttmegro to the dignity of a kiugdom, Ltuit that the change will take place in August on the jubilee of Priuce Nicholas. On the arrival of the Portsmouth train at Guildford, the body of James George Hauler, of Hargrave-parkv Highgate, was found in a carriage. Hunter is believed to have died sud- denly while the train was going through a tunnel. carriage. Hunter is believed to have died sud- denly while the train was going through a tunnel. According to an official telegram from the Dutch East Indies a patrol was recently at- tacked bv natives in the lower Moro district of Tapaur.li, Sumatra. One European soldier vafi ■'li'c-d, and it is believed that eight native sol- diers were also ,!<lled.