Welsh Newspapers

Search 15 million Welsh newspaper articles

Hide Articles List

30 articles on this Page

.I "THE TEMPLE OF LIES."

News
Cite
Share

"THE TEMPLE OF LIES." By J. B. HA RIS-BURLAND. Aothar of "Gabriel Janthry," "The Broken Law/' "The Guardian of His Honour," "The-Splendid Felon," &c.} &c. BEGIN THE STORY HERE. I Chaprter I. places the scene in a lone I cottage on the summit of. a snow-clad Cardiganshire mountain, where Emrys r Morgan, a consumptive, is being visited by Dr. David Jones. Recognosing that he has only three years to live, Morgan persuades the doctor to proclahn his death, in order that his mother, who is in dire poverty, might secure the £10.000 for which he was insured. Chapter II. finds the mother waiting for rews from the snow-clad mountains, and then comes a great surprise. A solicitor from London calls with the news that I Emrys, as the next of kin, has been left £ 500,000 by a relative. Directly after a telegraph boy hands a message to Gladys I Morgan, the daughter, which conveys the! tiding from Dr. Jones that Emrys had died. I The girl conceals this from both her mother and the solicitor. I r CHAPTER II, (Continued). I "My dear Gwladye!" cried old Mrs. Morgan' I In amazement, "What do you mean? Of j "O'ujTse, Owen Hug-hes will not touch a penny I iioney is not everyi-hi ng." no said, ouierly. of" the money. What are you talking about? Are you mad?" "Yes. yes," the girl answered, and then she laughed hysterically. My dear child," said the old woman anxiously, "this news has been too much for you. You must sit down and rest." "R43,st? Rest?" the girl cried with a white face and flashing eyes. "How do you think I Then she checked herself. This was madness indeed-to give way like this. She must be quite calm, for a terrible scene lay before her-a scene in which she would need all her strength. Her mother must be told f that Emrys was dead-that he had died on f: Thursday. Tuesday and Thursday were not unlike, and mistakes are often made in tele- grams. Possibly, there was still a chance of saving the great inheritance. The doctor upoke of having been snowed up in the hills -oh, -no, it was hopeless, it was quite impos- wible. How marry people had been already told-ail Trethol would know by now. Still, øh41 must be calm, and do all that lay in her power. Mrs. Morgan laid her wrinkled hand on her daughter's arm, and looked up at the hite face. "My darling child." she said tenderly, "you are in some trouble-some great trouble. I frhew it all the time that man wae here. I raw that you were upset, that the great good fortune which God has sent us could not bring more than a pretenoe of joy to yea. What is it, dear Gwladys?" The old woman's gentle voice touched a! heart which had grown hard and worldly 'under the cruel blows of circumstance, and tiwladys Morgan burst into tears. It was as well that nature gave this relief to her thoughts. Tears were more fitted for the breaking of the terrible news than the terror and hard. fierce resentment which had hitherto oocupied her mind. She flung herself into a chair by the table, and, burying her face in her arms, sobbed passionately. Her mother, frightened by„this terrible outburst of grief, stood owgr her, with one hand resting on the girl's shoulder. A few whispered words fell on deaf ea.rs. Then the old woman turned away, and sank back in her armchair by the fire. The da,ughter's sorrow seemed to have drained all the vitality out of the mother's, frail body. For a while there was silence, only broken by the sobbing of the girl. Then Gwladys Morgan rose suddenly to her feet, moved unsteadily forward, and flung herself on her knees by her mother's side. I "Mother, dear," she cried, catching hold J of one of the thin white hands, "there is bad I ttewg of Emr-y. I eould not tell you while that man was here. I did not tell you the truth. A telegram came from Trethol—Emrys is ill, very, very ill—I must go to him to- night." j "Emrys ill?" Mrs. Morgan repeated I mechanically. "Fiurys is always ill—do you mean that-he is dying?" Gwladys did not answer. She bowed her head. and her fingers tightened on her mother's hand. She let her silence speak for her. "Emrys is dead," the old woman said in t e weary voice of one whose emotions have bfegh blunted by years of suffering. "God's will bo done. God's will be done." The girl was still silent. She had nothing to say—nothing that would be of any use. Emrys was dead. Her mother understood that he was dead, because there was no den/si of her words. "God willed that he should die when he was young," Mrs. Morgan continued, as though speaking to herself; "it would have been cruel if he had lived too long after the sen- tence of death was passed on him. God has been merciful to him-and to us." •Ahe covered her face with her wrinkled hands, and her withered lips moved in prayer. The blow had fallen harmlessly on her grey head. She had known that her only son was doomed to an early death. She was grateful that his agany had not been pro- longed "I must go to Trethol to-night," the girl whispered after a long silenoe. "I will get ec-meone to come here and stay with you. Perhaps Audrey would come." "Audrey?" the old woman said quietly. "Yes, I shofnld like Audrey to oome. My dear ton loved her, and she would have married him and been with him to the last if he would have allowed it. God grant that he was not left to die alone." "No, no. the doctor wati with him," Gwladya taid hurriedly. "Poor Emrys dded an Thurs- day-to-day is Saturday—the doctor was snowed up in the cottage, 90 be must have been wit^i him at the time of his death. I must go to Trethol to-night." "Yes," the old woman replied, "and Audrey will ootme and stay with me." I Gwladys was relieved to find that her mother had bar tie the terrible blow with such fortitude. She did not realise that whrv*. eeemed to be qui-et courage was only tbe numbness of pain. There had been ne'ther cry, nor tear, nor moan. "God's, will be dmo," appeared to be the burden of the old woman's thoughts. There was even gratitude that her sou had been spared a long struggle for life. "1 will go to Aodrcp oonr" aaad the girl a, fter a few moment's silence. "But I ought not to leave you alone. "I am not afraid, dear," Mrs. Morgan answered gently. "I would rather be alone for a little whik-much rather be alone." The girl moved towards the door. Then, as though she had forgotten something, she came back and kissed her mother on the forehead. "Giv>e me my Bible, der. said Mrs. Mor- gan, in the same even, gentle voice. "I will read it till you retu 1." The girl brought a large morocco bound volume and aet it on her mother's knees. Then she found the old woman' s spectacles, v. iped tlfcem carefullj, and laid them on the book. "Is thero anything else, mother?' she asked. "Nothing, dear, thank you." "You axe sure you will be all right till I return. I don't like leaving you." "I would T-ather be alone, dear-alone with God." The. girl left the room, and, hastening upstairs, put on her shabby hat and coat. The few brief minutes of tenderness and tears were over. Her lips wore pressed tightly together, as she made her way down into the haJl. and there was a look of hard deter- mination in her eyes. "I must g-et to Trethol to-night," she mut- tered as she opened the hall d.-or, "but if I cannot, the doctor must come to Cardiff. There is- juft the chanoe that. i may not be too late." She passed out into the night, firm of PUT- pose, and with ra-ge burning in her heart. She was thinking of Owen Hughes, thetman Who had scorned her love, the man who was to rob t" of three hundred tlio-u. aud pounds. CHAPTER III. "Ycu know that I cannot marry you, Owen. You know that I cannot ma.rry anyone. | Please never speak to me of this a Tain." "But..Audrey, dear, the young man pleaded. "We are such old friends; we-- "We shall be friends no longer,' the girl said fiercely, "if you speak to me of this again. You must go now, Owen. My father may be back at any moment. He will not be pleased to find you here." The man bit his lip and frowned. He was a tall, square-shouldered young fellow, clean- shaven, with criip brown hair and grey eyes, that sometimes seemed like the laughing eyes of a carelesa boy, and then swiftly changed to the calm, steady eyes of a man who is fight- ing the world with grim determination, and means to eorne out on top if hard work can win the battle. A fine figure of a man was Owen Hughes-an athlete every inch of him, with muscK-M cf iron, and in s,pite.of his great strength, as active as a cat; the hero of a crowd, when he played wing three-quarter for Cardiff or for Wales; the still greater har-, of thousands 'of starving women and children, when he sold his small property during the great ooal strike, and gave every penny of the proceeds to buy them bread. A fine, great, splendid figure of a man was Owen Hughes! And yet, as he stood before this frail alio of a girl—this slender child with the white fa<oe, and the deep blue eyes, and the corn coloured hair, there was little of the hero abcut. him. He seemed abashed, almost frightened at the vehemence of her words. Your father was an old friend of my father's," he said, after a pause. I am poor now—a working man—and Morris Anwyl 's rich. Yet at one time, I believe, there was r, othing that would have pleased yen- father better than to give his daughter to me for a wife." The girl tapped her foot impatiently. Her ?yes glanced at the young man, clad in clothes that were no better than the Sunday best of a workman, and then she i'coked round the splendid drawing-room, with its old rose car- pet, its velvet curtains, its gilt furniture, its white panelled walls, its cabinets of old Sevres, its Armoires and bureaux of gilded bronze and tulip wood and mahogany. Nothing was further from her thoughts than to compare her present wealth with the povefty of Owen Hughes' wife. But the young man flushed and his nails bit deep into the palms of his hands. Money is not everything," he said, bit- terly. and then the girl flushed crimson, too. Money is nothing," she answered in a low voice, but love is everything. I would gladly share the poverty of the man I love; I would have shared it, if he would have allowed me to do so. But Emrys Morgan is a. ma.n with a great soul, and though She paused and pressed her hand to her eyes, as if to shut out some terrible vision from her sight. And to Owen Hughes, who saw the shadow Peja across her face, it seamed as though an icy blast had swept through the room, as though every window and door were open, and the snow were drifting in across the scene of wealth and luxury. He shivered, for he knew that Emrys Morgan wan a dying man. I am sorry, Audrey," he said, gently, after a pause. 1--1 did not know. I thought that you no longer cared for-Emrys Mor- gan. I did not know that he "I am sure you did not," she broke in quiokly; "if you had known, you oould not have spoken to me of your love. He is dying. and because—becauae of that, he would not let me majrry him, though I would have done so. He would not let me marry him, Owen, though most men would have snatched a few months of happineso before thev died-at any cost-yes. at any cost." "He is a hero," Hughes muttered, a. true man of honour." "Yes, Owen, and I will be true to him. I think of myself as his wife. So long an he lives, 1 will be as true to him, ae if I were his wife. And when he is dead-when he is dead, I will mourn for him as if he had been my husband. Ploaw leave me, Owen I have bared my very soul to you—because I wish you to know—because you ought to know." The young man squared his shoulders, and looked at her with sorrow in his eyes. He Was thinking, not of himself, but of her—of her youth that would be wasted in a vain regret, of her beauty that would fade on the long and lonely path hbe h??d marked out for herself. Life might have been so diffe- Nnt for her, if &he had not loved EmTys Morgan, and now-oh, the pity of it, the ter. rible pit- £ of it all! For a few moments there wae silenoe. Then the door opened, and Audrey's father entered the room. (TO BE CONTINUED TO-MORROW.)

I For Women Folk.

FOUR MEALS A DAYI

i Passing Pieasantries.I

SIMPLE CURE FOR DEAFNESSI

CARDIFF EMPIRE 1

I Real _" Merry Widow "

POSTAL SORTER ON REMANDI

I TO-MORROW'S RACINGI

Advertising

ICentenarian "Baker"

ALLEGED BANK FORGERSI

NEW THEATRE, CARDIFF___I

I" I AM HEARTBROKEN "I

I THEATRE ROYAL, CARDIFF i

IWILD DEER OWNER DEAD

IBOXING.:

FOREIGN MAILS.

BILLIARDS. I

Advertising

rO-OAT'S POLLINGS I

ICAPTURE OF A VALUABLE FORWARD…

FOOTBALL -SENSATION____I

WALES—30 SEATS. CANDIDATES…

DIARY OF POLLING DAYS I

Advertising

STOLL'S PANOPTICON I

[No title]

'DO WHAT YOU LIKE WITH ME

Advertising