KKHi ' — «** fe^lfc _ A.1 »S ' f^T 4 . ^^ 4Tf 7i> 'o/ JUntqtu (Tectum. Militant jKettnlle- fo. 1214 i> U i( s LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY Of ILLINOIS L4pfa /* r^/Wl Tf w ' K3 3£ '«N, -**i Tfts *?£•* £ w Lffi! fHte ^A<* a* ■ * ' ■ Mft JJ3P- m Kid 3| *** Hfrfir L ^g g SB < «K ffa • ^, q^ ^ -'O -A 'tJ$*hi A FATAL SILENCE VOL. L li A FATAL SILENCE BY FLORENCE MARRYAT AUTHOR OF ■ LOVE'S CONFLICT,' ' VERONIQUE,' ETC., ETC., ETC. IN THREE VOLUMES VOL. I. LONDON GRIFFITH FARRAN OKEDEN & WELSH NEWBERY HOUSE, CHARING CROSS ROAD AND SYDNEY. D.: G. C & co. : 30.91. The Rights of Translation and of Reft n art rest sea CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. PAGE AN UNWELCOME MEETING, . . • . .1 CHAPTER II. MR GRIBBLE'S DISCOVERY, ... 21 CHAPTER III. A GOOD BROAD HINT, . . . . -37 CHAPTER IV. THE CROSS-EXAMINATION, . . . $2 CHAPTER V. THE CONFESSION, ..... 70 CHAPTER VI. HIGHBRIDGE FARM, ..... 91 CHAPTER VI I. PAULA LEAVES DEEPDALE, . . . .112 vi Contents. CHAPTER VI I I. PAGE AT GRASSDENE, . . . . . 1 36 CHAPTER IX. ALL DOUBT DISPELLED, . . . . 1 58 CHAPTER X. A SOLEMN PROMISE, ..... l86 CHAPTER XI. HAL BREAKS THE NEWS TO DEEPDALE. . . 211 CHAPTER XII. MRS CRIBBLE'S TEA-PARTY, .... 235 A FATAL SILENCE A FATAL SILENCE. CHAPTER I. AN UNWELCOME MEETING. MARKET day at Haltham, and the primitive little town in an uproar. Huge oxen, with shaggy coats and wide-spreading horns, were being driven along the road, and floundering in their dismay against any luckless passenger that crossed their path. Meek sheep, with their lambs trotting by their side and a]l baa-ing in concert, followed after, whilst ducks and geese quacked and hissed, and the ploughboys and farming maidens shouted at each other with scarcely less discordant noise. Miss Stafford was glad to be above it all. She stood on the rustic pathway, which was VOL. I. A 2 A Fatal Silence. raised several feet above the road, and was pro- tected by stout green posts connected by iron chains, on which the country children loved to swing. Lottie and Carrie Gribble, who had been left in her charge, had run into the very midst of the excitement, and she looked as concerned as a hen whose foster ducklings have taken to the water as she drew her dainty cambric skirts closely around her, to prevent contact with the dirty crowd, and called to them to return to her side. Market day was the one great event of the week to the inhabitants of Haltham, but Miss Stafford came from the neighbouring village of Deepdale, seven miles off, and was not used to so much bustle. She looked annoyed as she was elbowed and pushed by farming men and market women eager to reach their stalls, or to inspect the tempting array of articles exhibited in the shop windows for their benefit. There was only one shop of each kind in Haltham, so that the spirit of competition did not run high. Mr Spring, the stationer, was standing at his door, rubbing his hands and smiling, as Miss Stafford An Unwelcome Meeting. 3 called to the Gribble girls. He knew her well. She was the certificated schoolmistress of Deep- dale, and all the slates and copy books and pens and ink for the use of the school were bought at his shop. 'Ah, Miss Stafford,' he exclaimed, 'anything in my line to-day? I have just received the choicest selection of hymn books. Won't you step in and look at them?' ' In a moment, Mr Spring — indeed, I have a long list for you. But I must wait for Lottie and Carrie Gribble. They are very naughty. They have run right across the road. And you know how very particular Mrs Gribble is.' Mr Spring lifted his hands and eyes as though to intimate that no one knew it better than himself, but at that moment quite a little crowd entered his shop, where he sold all sorts of fancy articles, and he was compelled to go and attend to them. Presently, Miss Stafford, having re- captured the children, two ugly little animals of eight and ten, followed in his wake, and took her stand by the counter till he could attend to 4 A Fatal Silence. her. She looked singularly interesting as she did so, and very different in appearance from those around her. Indeed, she was more than interesting, she was a very handsome young woman of about flve-and-twenty, but she seemed to have taken great pains to conceal her beauty. She could not hide her soft, white skin, nor her long-fringed, dark-blue eyes, but her mass of reddish-brown hair was strained off her face in a most unbecoming manner, and tucked away at the back of her head, and she wore a coarse straw- bonnet which almost concealed her features. Her slight figure was plainly draped in a lilac cambric gown, covered with a summer shawl ; but there was an unmistakable air of refinement about her — to those who knew how to read the signs — that her dowdy attire had no power to take away, and which made it difficult to believe that she was only a village schoolmistress. Some people in Deepdale (but they were mostly women) thought that Mr Gribblc and Mr Axworthy (who were the churchwardens of the place) had not acted with their usual discretion in engaging Miss Staf- An Unwelcome Meeting. and through you the innocents committed to An Unwelcome Meeting, 19 your care. It must not be, Miss Stafford — it must not be.' The young woman disdained to make any further reply, but sat silent and indignant by his side for the remainder of the drive, only address- ing an occasional remark to one of the little girls. She dreaded every minute to hear them burst out something about the man with the long beard, but they were too cunning to moot the subject in her presence. She wished now she had not given Seth Brunt permission to visit her, but she had hardly known how to refuse an old acquaintance. Life proved sometimes too hard a puzzle to the poor girl, and she had not solved the secret to go through it comfortably. The petty tyranny of Mr Gribble and Mr Axworthy, and the matrons of Deepdale, often ground into her soul, and made her wish she had never accepted the appointment she held ; but it was bread and meat to her, and she had sorely wanted both. Deepdale, as its name denoted, lay in a valley, and when once the old mare began to go down hill, she scented her stable, and it was diffi- 20 A Fatal Silence. cult to stop her. The schoolroom stood near the church and quite half a mile away from the brand- new villa to which Mr Gribble had retired from business. He drew up sharply before the door. 'Now, Miss Stafford, be quick please,' he ex- claimed, just as he had done when she was about to enter it. 'Jennie won't wait a second when she's so near home. Jump out. Lottie, throw your teacher the parcel. That's right,' and loosen- ing the reins, he was off again before she had time to say ' thank you.' She picked up the heavy parcel of stationer)- and walked slowly into the deserted schoolhouse. It was a half-holiday, of course, or else she could not have gone to Haltham. As she passed through the Gothic porch of grey stone she un- locked a door on her left and entered her own room. Even this was empty. The little maiden who waited on her had received permission to return home early that day and leave her evening duties to her employer Miss Stafford placed her parcel on the table, and laying aside her bonnet and shawl, busied herself in preparing a cup of tea. CHAPTER II. MR GRIBBLE'S DISCOVERY. WITHOUT the disfiguring encumbrance of her walking attire she really looked beautiful, par- ticularly when she had somewhat loosened her heavy knot of hair and let it rest upon her slender shoulders. Her figure was very graceful, too, notwithstanding that her cotton dress was old- fashioned and without ornament. It was difficult to believe that she was five-and-twenty, for she looked a mere girl as she walked backwards and forwards with the kettle and the teapot and the bread-and-butter, humming in a low voice to her- self as she went. She felt happier now that she was released from the espionage of Mr Gribble, although the unexpected event of the afternoon had upset her, and she looked forward with some 22 A Fatal Silence. trepidation to the coming visit of Seth Brunt. Once, as she passed a little mirror and caught sight of her pale face, she clasped her head with both her hands and spoke aloud. 'Will the spectre of the past never — never leave me?' she said. 'Am I always to be haunted by the misery I have cast behind me ? And I think — I am almost sure — I might be so happy. Well, if it comes in my way, I will be,' she added determinately. ' I have suffered enough already, Heaven knows ! Surely no one is doomed to a whole life of terror.' It was growing dusk by that time, and the church clock chimed out seven. ' Brunt will be here presently,' she thought. ' I will not take my cup of tea until he can join me.' She made her little table look as inviting as she could, and lit the gas beside the fireplace. It was a comfortable set of rooms which she occupied, or her deft fingers had made them look so. They were plainly furnished in oak, but fresh flowers and muslin, and an ornament or photograph here and there, had transformed them Mr Gribbles Discovery. 2 *> to the apartments of a lady. There were only two rooms, and a tiny kitchen, but when Miss Stafford had dismissed her scholars, and locked the door behind her, she felt that she was free and at peace. Not happy — far from it. The walls of her little rooms had echoed many heart - breaking sobs, and witnessed many hours of despair, of which Messrs Gribble and Axworthy knew nothing ; but the woman had battled against her grief, and conquered it, and now she felt annoyed and excited to think that anything was going to disturb the buried past. Still, Seth Brunt had been a kind friend to her in the bygone days, and she did not like to be ungrateful. 4 Poor old Brunt,' she thought pitifully, ' he used to stick up for me against everyone, but I honestly wish he had never run across me here. And what can he possibly have to say to me about him ? ' As if in answer to her unspoken question, the schoolhouse bell at this moment rang out a clamorous iron peal. Miss Stafford opened the door at once and ushered her visitor in. 24 A Fatal Silence. 'Sit down, Brunt,' she said, and then, looking out into the night, she added anxiously, ' I hope no one saw you come in ? Did you meet any- body just about here ? ' 1 Not a soul, madame,' replied the sailor ; ' but haven't you your liberty ? Can't you do as you like?' * Oh, yes, Brunt, I am my own mistress, when school is over, of course. Only, I think Deepdalc is the most inquisitive place I ever knew. They want to know everything about everybody.' 'They don't know much about you, I expect.' said Brunt. Her pale face flushed as she reclosed the door and sat down opposite to him in the light. ' Why should they know anything about me?' she replied. 1 What business is it of theirs ? I do my duty, and there our agreement ends.' 1 Ah, madame, it makes my heart ache to find you here — you, who have never been used to work in your life. I thought you would have gone home to live with your mother. Someone told me that you had.' Mr Gribbles Discovery. 25 1 So I did for a while, but my mother is not rich, and I cannot live upon anyone's bounty. And then, there is Paul, you see.' 'True. And how is Paul, madame?' Miss Stafford sighed. 1 He is just the same. He will never be different. He has been murdered I " She spoke bitterly, and clenching her hand, knocked it in a nervous manner against her teeth. 1 Ah, madame, that is the very thing I wished to speak to you about. I saw the Captain as I passed through London. I may almost say that I came straight from him.' 1 That doesn't enhance the pleasure of seeing you, Brunt.' ' Perhaps not. But he is so ill. He is almost at death's door. He is too feeble to leave the house.' 1 The news does not affect me.' 1 It would if you saw him, madame. He is a wreck of his former self. He is weak as a child.' 26 A Fatal Silence. 1 So much the better for the next poor wretch who falls into his hands,' she answered. 'You have grown very hard since I last saw you,' said the sailor. The rebuke goaded her into anger. * Hard!' she echoed. 'Can you, of all men call me hard ? You — who have seen me kicked like a dog, who have heard me insulted as if I had been the lowest creature on the face of earth, outraged, spit upon, deserted. You call me hard. It is a wonder I can endure your presence, knowing that you take his hand and call him friend.' I Not when he ill-treated you, madame. Pardon me. I quarrelled with him then, as you must remember. But now that he is dying — without you, or anyone to smooth his pillow, I can't help thinking of the days when we was all happy together aboard the Lily of Christian- sand, and wondering if he, poor fellow ! thinks about them too.' I I have no pity for him. He has brought his misfortunes on his own head. And if I had. Mr Gribble s Discovery. 27 one thought of Paul would drown it. You seem to forget Paul] said Miss Stafford indignantly. ' No, madame, I do not. But the poor Captain was not in his right mind. When a man drinks to excess, he becomes mad. If you only saw him now — ' ' I don't want to see him now/ interrupted his companion. ' I never wish to see him again, either in this world or the next. I hope I never shall. I lead a life of labour and privation — sometimes I feel it to be a very hard life. But I thank God every night that I lie down in my bed that I am free and alone.' 1 Then, I suppose, there's no chance of anything like a coming together again,' said Brunt wistfully. She veered round upon him with a face full of astonishment. ( Are you mad?' she exclaimed. 'No, madame ; I'm only sorry for both of you. It wouldn't have entered my head to say such a thing if I hadn't come acrost you so unex- pectedly. But I've often wondered where you was, and wished I could tell you of him.' 28 A Fatal Silence. * It is quite useless, I assure you/ she answered coldly. ' Even if I could go I would not. That part of my life is over, thank Heaven. I should never be such a fool as to renew it.' 'Perhaps the future will be happier. You have many years before you yet,' said Brunt. ' But the poor Captain's days arc numbered — there's no doubt of that. Death's written in his face. And I felt somehow as I must tell you of it. For once ' — he added hesitatingly — ■ once, you was very fond of him.' ' Yes, once I was,' admitted Miss Stafford, after a short pause. She poured the sailor out a cup of tea, and took one herself, and for a few minutes she was busied with the milk and the sugar, and said nothing. Then she recommenced, — ' I am not quite sure if I am glad or sorry to have met you again, Brunt. You were a kind friend to me in the old days, and I am grateful for it, but I never wish to think of that time again. I was too utterly miserable. 1 have buried myself in Deepdale, and I hoped I should never hear the past spoken of. But your presence revives it ter- Mr Griddle s Discovery. 29 ribly, and your speech still more so. Pray talk of something else. Are you going to sea again soon?' ' Whenever I get a ship, madame. But I al- most hope that mayn't be just yet. My old mother has ailed lately, and I seem never sure that each parting mayn't be the last. Your mother is well, I trust ? ' ' Yes. She was terribly cut up about my trouble. Any mother would be. But she knows I am happier as it is.' ' And Paul — ' inquired Brunt. ' Paul is with her. I could not have him here. I have told you that I am known as Miss Stafford only, and I have no intention of taking any other name.' I Ah, you will some day,' said the sailor sig- nificantly. She coloured. I I think not. I have had too much trouble to wish for any change excepting death. But I am really very comfortable here. The work is monotonous, but I am interested in it, and it makes me independent. I did not get it for the ■;o A Fatal Silence. o asking, Brunt. I had to study hard for more than a year before I was qualified. But now I should be sorry to give it up. Deepdale is a lovely village, and I have made several friends here.' ' Aye, aye, you're the better off of the two,' replied Seth Brunt. 6 As I deserve to be,' trembled on her tongue, but she wished for no more argument, and turned the subject to a less dangerous theme. Meanwhile the two Miss Gribbles had returned home with their papa, and were recounting the ad- ventures of the afternoon to their mamma. Mrs Gribble was a stout woman, with red cheeks with a glaze on them, round black eyes, a broad nose, and a figure which encouraged the fallacious idea that she was about to add to the population. She was extremely jealous of her ugly little husband, and had been set against the school teacher from the beginning of her career. Miss Stafford was far too handsome and refined in appearance to suit Mrs Gribble, who now heard for the first time that she had accompanied her family to Haltham. Mr Griddle s Discovery. 31 ' What's that you say, Caroline ? ' she demanded of her eldest daughter. ' Miss Stafford went into Haltham with you ? ' 1 Yes, ma. We met her outside of the school- 'ouse, and pa asked if she'd like to drive into Haltham, so she came too.' ' And why was / not informed of your inten- tions, Mr Gribble?' Mrs Gribble said sternly to her husband, who was sitting by with his mouth full of bread-and-butter. 1 Well, my dear, as our little one puts it, it was quite a haccident. Miss Stafford required sundries for the school from Spring's, so I offered to take her there. I considered it a dooty ! ' 1 Oh ! ' ejaculated Mrs Gribble significantly, and then turned to Carrie again, ' And what else have you to tell me, dear ? ' 1 Oh, ma ! ' they both chimed in at once, ' Miss Stafford was so unkind. She nearly pulled our arms off because we went the wrong way, and shoved us into Spring's shop quite hard. She 'urt us,' they grumbled, sticking their lips out. 'Mr Gribble!' exclaimed Mrs Gribble, 'I will 32 A Fatal Silence. not have my children struck and pushed about by that young woman. She takes a great deal too much on herself. But, of course, if you — the churchwarden of Deepdale — go driving her in my phee-aton into Haltham, she thinks she is everybody ! ' ' It was very wrong of her, my dear, if it occurred, but I confess I have never seen her anything but kind to all the children.' 1 Oh, of course, you take her part. That is only what I expected,' replied Mrs Gribble sarcastically. • Oh, ma ! she isn't kind — not to us ! She kissed Mrs Corney's baby to-day, twice, but she never kisses us.' 1 You hear, Mr Gribble, you hear ! ' ' And to-day, when pa left us with her,' con- tinued the little animals, perceiving their advan- tage, ' she didn't take no care of us at all, but went away with a man.' 'With a man /' cried Mrs Gribble in horror; ' you must be mistaken, my loves.' ' Oh, no, ma,' replied the children eagerly, Mr Gribble s Discovery. 3 "5 'he was a man. He had a loner black beard. And when he first saw teacher, he said, " Hullo ! here's madam," and she said, " No, I ain't," and then afterwards she said, " Yes, I am, and you must come outside with me." And they went outside, and stayed ever so long, and when she came back her face was so red we thought he must have been scolding her.' Mrs Gribble leaned back in her chair and folded her hands majestically upon her black silk stomach. ' Well, Mr Gribble,' she said, after a pause, 1 do you hear that ? ' 'I do ; but I can hardly believe it. In Mr Spring's shop, did you say, Lottie ? ' 1 Yes, pa ; a big man, with a loud voice and a blue jacket — a sailor-looking sort of man. And he said, u Hullo ! here's madam.' 1 Hullo ! herds madam' repeated Mrs Gribble contemptuously ; ' a nice sort of greeting to a respectable young woman. One of her former associates, doubtless. And this is the person to whom you have entrusted the charge of my precious children.' VOL. I. C 34 A Fatal Silence. ' I must inquire into it, most decidedly/ said Mr Gribble. 'Charlotte and Caroline, if you have finished your meal, say your grace and go up to bed. I wish to speak alone with your mamma.' 1 He's going to give 'er a wigging for talking against Miss Stafford/ whispered Carrie to Lottie, oracularly, as they climbed the stairs together. ' Pa likes teacher a deal more than ma does. I think ma hates 'er — don't you ? ' 1 I suppose you'll 'ardly stick up for Miss Staf- ford any more after this] said Mrs Gribble when they were gone. ' A nice thing for the school- mistress of Deepdale to be called a "madam" in an open shop on market day. Why, it'll be all over Haltham by this time.' ' I don't like it, my dear, I confess. I don't like it,' replied Mr Gribble, rubbing his scrubby little chin. ' We must have no scandal in Deep- dale school, and no levity on the part of its mistress. I didn't quite like the way in which she received an admonition I gave her as we were coming home respecting young Rushton.' Mr Gribble s Discovery. 35 1 Young Rushton ! Oh, so there's another, is there. One is not enough for my lady at a time. Well, if it isn't the most disgraceful thing I ever heard in my life.' ' Not quite that, my dear, not quite that,' re- plied Mr Gribble. ' Mr Rushton's attentions may mean nothing, but the teacher of Deepdale can- not be too careful. I was pointing this out to her, but she did not take my warning in the spirit I should have liked to see. And now there is this other person. I think I must ask Miss Stafford for an explanation.' ' Explanation ! ' snorted Mrs Gribble. ' Her conduct ought to be exposed before the whole parish. I always said she wasn't fit to 'old the position.' ' I'll walk down and speak to her about it to- night,' said her husband, with sudden resolution, as he stood up and buttoned his coat. 'You had much better go to the parsonage and inform Mr Measures of her disgraceful behaviour,' retorted Mrs Gribble. ' No, my dear, not until I have tried my own 36 A Fatal Silence. authority. Miss Stafford is a sensible young woman. She will surely listen to the voice of her churchwarden.' 'Well, don't you let her keep you there till midnight, or I'll know the reason why,' screamed out his spouse as he left the room. 1 My dear, my dear,' he said expostulatingly as he hurried down the garden path. He honestly considered Miss Stafford a very valuable assistant in the task of rearing the future generation of Deepdale, though there was not the slightest ground for the unworthy sus- picions of Mrs Gribble. But he was both a prudish and a priggish little man, with a vast idea of his own importance, and quite believed that an angry tone from him would be sufficient to make the teacher tremble in her shoes and entreat him to avert the evil consequences of her levity. He was thinking thus as he reached the schoolhouse and rang the bell. Miss Stafford came to the door, but she did not throw it open for him to enter. On the contrary, she retained her hold upon the handle as she spoke to him. CHAPTER III. A GOOD BROAD HINT. ' Is it you, Mr Gribble?' she said, peering out into the darkness, for it was now nearly nine o'clock. ' What is it that you want ? ' 1 1 wish to speak to you Miss Stafford, upon a subject of importance.' 1 Not to-night, surely. It is too late. Besides * — with a slight hesitation — ' I am engaged.' Mr Gribble was not slow to note the hesitation. 'Engaged!' he echoed sharply. 'How engaged? With whom ? ' 1 That is my affair, surely,' replied the teacher ; ' but if you particularly wish to know, with a friend — ' 'A friend!' exclaimed Mr Gribble; 'what friends have you in Deepdale whose presence prevents my speaking to you? Is it a lady friend? I 3& A Fatal Silence. presume you would not be sitting alone with a gentleman at this time of night. It's past nine.' 1 1 am not bound to tell you anything about the matter, Mr Gribble, and I consider your questions border on impertinence. Be good enough to come and see me to-morrow morning,' replied Miss Stafford with some asperity, for her spirit was roused by the pertinacity of her visitor. She attempted to close the door as she spoke, but Mr Gribble pressed his whole weight against it and entered the room. Beside the table sat Seth Brunt, the identical ' sailor sort of man ' with the black beard of whom his little girls had spoken to him, whilst the presence of the tea tray and his empty cup and saucer proved that he had been taking a meal with the school teacher. 'So!' ejaculated Mr Gribble, as he glared at the intruder, ' this was your engagement, Miss Stafford, was it ? This was the reason you tried to thrust ine from your door. The parson shall hear of this miss — the churchwardens shall hear of it — the parish shall hear of it — and then you shall hear what they say.' A Good Broad Hint. 39 Miss Stafford could have shaken the little wretch in her indignation, and put him out of the room again. But she only stood proud and pale, and looked him full in the face, whilst she kept one hand pressed upon the table. ' And the parish shall hear, Mr Gribble, that you forced yourself into my private room against my wishes, and decide whether that is conduct that comes within the radius of your authority. Be good enough to leave me, sir. I don't wish to ask my friend, who is just going, to take you with him.' Mr Gribble glanced at big, burly Seth Brunt, and thought it best to make no further disturbance for the time being. Clapping his hat upon his head, he turned away, muttering, — c You'll repent this, Miss Stafford. I shall lay the whole case before Mr Measures to-morrow morning, and you will find that you'll repent it.' ' I am not afraid of Mr Measures,' she said quietly as she closed the door after him. As he floundered through the dark porch, he ran up against another body. 40 A Fatal Silence. 1 Who are you ? ' he asked roughly. 1 I am Hal Rushton,' replied that young man's voice. ' Are you Mr Gribble ? ' ' Yes, sir, I am Mr Gribble. And may I ask what business you have at the schoolhouse ? ' 'You can ask, certainly, but it lies in my option to answer you. However, I am not ashamed of my errand. I came here to speak to Miss Stafford.' 1 At nine o'clock at night, sir ? ' 'Exactly! Is there anything wrong with nine o'clock at night ? If so — why are you here ? ' ' / came to see Miss Stafford on business.' ' So did I — ' replied the imperturbable young man. ' Well, you will not see her, then, Mr Rushton. She is engaged with a friend — a gentleman friend — and no one else can be admitted. But the parson shall hear of it, sir — and the parish shall hear of it into the bargain.' '-That Miss Stafford has a friend, is that any marvel ? I should have thought she might number them by the hundred.' A Good Broad Hint. 4 1 At that moment the door reopened, and Miss Stafford and Seth Brunt appeared upon the threshold. ' Good-night/ she was saying, ' I wish you had not such a long walk back to Haltham, but there is no alternative.' Mr Gribble hurried off into the darkness, but Hal Rushton held his ground. ' Is it a friend of yours, Miss Stafford ? ' he asked. 1 Can I be of any assistance? Shall I take him to Highbridge Farm for the night ? ' 1 Is it you, Mr Rushton ? ' she said quickly. 1 Oh, no ! I would not trouble you for the world. This — this — gentleman is used to walking, and will not mind the distance. Good-night,' she said once more to Brunt, who shambled away on his road to Haltham. And then, with a slight in- clination of the head, she was about to retreat again within her own little fortress. ' Mayn't I speak to you ? ' asked Hal Rushton. 'Of course,' she replied in a trembling voice, and he followed her into the room, though they did not close the door. 42 A Fatal Silence. 1 You are troubled to-night, I am sure. What has annoyed you ? ' he said gently. She did not answer him. The tears began to course down her cheek. He felt inexpressibly drawn to her. ' Is it that man Gribble ? Has he presumed to find fault with you ? You must try and not mind it. Everyone knows what an interfering, snappish, overbearing little cad he is.' 1 It is not only that,' she answered. ' I have been worried and upset to-night by talking over old times. You must not be surprised at that. You have guessed, I am sure, that I was not brought up to this sort of thing — that my life has been, in fact, altogether different' ' I was sure, from the first moment I saw you, Miss Stafford, that force of circumstances had compelled you to stoop very low from your original position, and I have honoured you for the courage with which you have accepted the change.' ' Oh, no. I am not courageous — far from it. If I were, I should not be so low spirited now. But A Good Broad Hint. 43 it is just as you say, and I only wish I could now entirely forget the past' ' If that is impossible, can you not lessen the pain by trying to believe in a happier future. You are young, Miss Stafford. You are calcul- ated to adorn any position (a far higher one than could be found in Deepdale), and you have (please God) a long life before you. Why not be hopeful of what may still be in store ? ' He was sitting on the table, and she was standing beside him, and as he spoke Hal Rushton ventured to take her listless hand and hold it in his own. 1 I do not think,' she answered, ' that I was born under a lucky star. Some people are not, they say. I could be contented enough here if they would let me do my work in my own way. But they exercise so much control over me. I must alter this and alter that, and even my leisure hours (as you have seen) may not be kept sacred to myself. Mr Gribble must spy and interfere and find fault. Even this visit of yours may be turned into a crime. It is hard, when a woman is doing her best, to be so coerced and sat upon.' 44 A Fatal Silence. 1 It is infamous — abominable,' coincided young Rushton warmly ; l but Mr Measures will set it all right, I am sure. I can so well sympathise with you, Miss Stafford, for I, too, am not my own master.' ' Not you ! ' she said, glancing up at his mus- cular, well-knit frame as though surprised to think that anyone could master him. ' No, indeed. Legally, of course, I am the same as yourself, but morally I catch it if I say my soul's my own. You have seen my step- mother and her son ? ' Miss Stafford nodded. ' How my poor father ever came to marry her, I cannot think. To me she is repulsive. But he was very ill for years before he died, and I was a lanky lad of no good to anybody, and I suppose she got on the right side of him by professing to be a good sick-nurse. Anyway, he married her, and brought her and her son, Ted Snaley, home to Highbridge. And the)- have spoiled my life between them since.' 1 And vet you keep them there. Isn't that A Good Broad Hint. 45 stretching your benevolence to too fine a point, Mr Rushton ? ' 1 I wish you wouldn't call me " Mr Rushton," ' he replied, taking no notice of her question. ' It is what Mrs Snaley always calls me. We have known each other now for quite a year. Don't you think it is time to say " Hal." ' She hesitated, with her eyes fixed upon the ground. ' Don't you feel friendly enough with me to say it ? ' he persisted. 1 Oh, yes, I feel very friendly with you.' * Then prove it by treating me with greater intimacy. And your name, Miss Stafford ? I have never heard it. May I not know that ? ' ' I have never told my Christian name to a soul in Deepdale,' she said. ' Tell it to me now. I will never repeat it ex- cepting to yourself,' urged Hal Rushton. 1 It is Paula.' ' Paula ! What a sweet, uncommon name. I never heard it before. Are you English ? ' ' Oh, yes.' 1 And you have a mother living ? ' ' Yes, far away from here.' 46 A Fatal Silence. ' Happy girl ! I wish I had one too. Some- one to go to in trouble, or perplexity, or pain. I never loved a woman, Paula, since my dear mother died, until — until — ' He paused nervously, and she rushed into the breach. ' You were going to tell me why you keep your stepmother and her son at Highbridge Farm.' 'Well, this is the reason. At one time she persuaded my father to leave her even-thing, but before he died he changed his mind and made me his heir, which was only fair, because the farm came to him with my mother. He left his wife a hundred a year for her lifetime, which was all he cculd rightfully call his own, but it would have so reduced her comforts that I had not the heart to turn her and Ted out of Highbridge, so they've lived there ever since.' 1 Using your substance just as if it was their own,' said Miss Stafford. 'Yes, they do so pretty well. But it can't go on for ever, and so I tell Mrs Rushton. If I should marry — ' ' Oh, you're sure to many,' she interposed. A Good Broad Hint. 47 He gazed at her wistfully. ' I am not sure, Paula. It will all depend. I am not the sort of man who could marry anybody, just: for the sake of marrying.' <0h, I think not.' ' I have seen so much, of late years, of the horrors of an unsuitable marriage that I shall be doubly careful in making my choice. My wife will have to be very nice indeed.' ' Why should you doubt it ? Are nice women so rare ? ' 1 1 think they are, though I do not despair of finding her some day. But the question is, when found, will she condescend to notice me ? ' 1 Ah, that is one of the good things of the future in which you tell me to have so much faith, Mr Rushton.' ' Mr Rushton again.' ' Hal, then. But what would become of me if Mr Gribble were to overhear such a piece of impropriety? He was cautioning me only this afternoon, on our way back from Haltham, against being too intimate with you.' 48 A Fatal Silence. ' Confound his impudence ! What will he interfere with next ? One would think he was king of Deepdale. But you won't let him influ- ence your actions, will you ? ' ' I think not. I never let anyone influence my actions while they approve themselves to my conscience,' she answered proudly. 1 That is right. I love a high-spirited and high-minded woman, and I wish — I wish you were out of all this.' Miss Stafford assumed a look of comical dismay. ' Oh, pray don't wish that. That is, to wish me without a roof over my head, or bread to eat. You don't know the absolute necessity there is for my working.' ' No, I don't, or for your starving either,' he answered bluntly. ' However, I suppose I had better be making tracks for home. Good-night, Paula. Say " Good-night, Hal!"' 4 Good-night, Hal.' 1 Thank you/ pressing her hand firmly. ' I shall sleep all the better for that, and dream perhaps of a possible future.' A Good Broad Hint. 49 And with a long, significant look into her eyes, he released her hand and walked away. Miss Stafford closed and locked the door after him, and sat for some time at the open case- ment, which was wreathed with roses and clem- atis, looking out upon the quiet summer night, and thinking over the events of the day. She was not sure if she was any the happier for the inter- view which had just passed with Hal Rushton. She could not mistake his meaning. He made it plain enough. He wished to be her friend, perhaps something more than a friend, and she had seen the declaration trembling on his lips many a time, and kept him from uttering it by sheer stratagem. To-night she knew he would have spoken if she had given him the least en- couragement, and to-night she would have felt more unequal to giving him an answer than ever before. For Seth Brunt's visit had quite unnerved her. He was like a ghost raised from the buried past. He had spoken of things and people she had hoped never to have heard named again. He had made her feel that she had not com- VOL. 1. D 50 A Fatal Silence. menced to live a new life, and that she never could whilst the old life existed and people walked and talked who remembered and had taken part in it. And then the hint, slight as it was, that she had been somewhat in the wrong, had hurt her terribly. How had she been in the wrong to save Paul and herself from a life of misery — a slow, lingering death of torture? She paced her little room impatiently as she recalled it. All she wanted was to live at peace, and interfere with no one, and yet even so small a boon was denied her. If old acquaintances cropped up to annoy her in Deepdale, where on all God's earth would she be safe ? And then this quarrel with Mr Gribble. It was very silly and insignificant, no doubt, but there was no tell- ing where it might lead, nor what revelations micrht not be made before it had run its course. Altogether, Miss Stafford went to bed at last in a very unsettled frame of mind, and did not feel much better when she rose in the morning. She was listless and headachy, and her mind wandered, and she fancied that her scholars obseved her A Good Broad Hint. 5 1 distraction and passed comments upon it. One fact was significant. When the roll was called over, the two Miss Gribbles were conspicuous only by their absence, kept at home, doubtless, by their offended papa. Miss Stafford could have smiled at so dubious a piece of a policy had she not known that the little churchwarden was really a power in the parish, and not to be angered with impunity. But she did not regret the posi- tion she had assumed all the same. She could not brook being called to task for an innocent action, like one of her own school-children, but she felt a little anxious for the result, and was not at all taken by surprise at receiving a note from the clergyman, Mr Measures, during the course of the day, asking her to step over to the parsonage as soon as school was concluded. So at five o'clock in the afternoon, when she had seen the last little toddler safely on its way home, she put on her shawl and bonnet and walked across the churchyard and into the pre- sence of Mr and Mrs Measures. „ of iu- l'.b. CHAPTER IV. THE CROSS-EXAMINATION. Mr Gribble had been there before her, of course. He had trotted over, big with importance, and ruffled like an angry cockerel, directly after breakfast, to tell the parson of the discovery he had made. But somewhat to his astonishment, and greatly to his indignation, his story was not received with the horror he had anticipated. Mr Measures was a good, fatherly man, full of sympathy for the young and friendless, and slow to suspect evil, because he committed none. His wife followed his example, and was, more- over, much more cordially disposed towards the school teacher than towards the churchwarden. So they heard Mr Gribble's account in silence, and then Mr Measures remarked that he did not sup- The Cross- Examination. 53 pose that Miss Stafford intended her action to be taken as either unkind or rude. Mr Gribble stared. ' Unkind or rude, sir. You can scarcely have understood my meaning. It is not the young woman's action I complain of, though that was irreverent enough towards a man of my position. But it is the reason for the action that forms the scandal. A man, Mr Measures — a rough-looking, bearded man, sitting in an unmarried woman's apartments at nine o'clock at night. What do you think of that, sir ? What do you think of that ? ' Mr Measures was one of those good old- fashioned clergymen who have never dreamt of wearing cassocks or chasubles, or departing from the ways of the first half of the century. He gave his parishioners three full-barrelled services every Sunday, and let them do pretty much as they chose for the rest of the week. He put his hands under his coat tails as Gribble finished his sentence and looking down upon him blandly, replied with a smile, — 'Tell me what you think of it, Mr Gribble.' At these words Mrs Measures raised her eyes 54 A Fatal Silence. from her needlework, and fixed them expectantly on the churchwarden, and Gribble felt he was the chosen one to make the parson and his wife see Miss Stafford's conduct in its proper light. 'What I think, sir?' he reiterated. 'Well, I think that it is simply disgraceful? 1 Oh, Mr Gribble, that is too hard a word,' inter- posed the sweet voice of Mrs Measures. ' Pray think of whom you are speaking. Miss Stafford has always conducted herself in the most discreet manner since coming to Deepdale — and I do not believe that such a term as disgrace can be asso- ciated with her name.' 1 Very well, madam, very well. You must think as you choose,' replied Mr Gribble, ■ but I am a heye-witness of what occurred, and I don't agree with you. My daughters heard Miss Stafford make an appointment with this stranger, in Spring's shop, in the afternoon, and there he was drinking tea with her in the evening. Do you call that respectable, ma'am ? SJic knew what people would call it herself. She tried to hold the door against my entrance — against mc, The Cross- Examination. 55 Mr Measures, who engaged her for the situation — and if I hadn't pushed my way in, I shouldn't have seen the fellow at all.' 1 Well, I don't think you had a right to force your way in to any woman's private apartments, Mr Gribble,' said Mrs Measures indignantly. ' I agree with my wife, that you exceeded your duty,' acquiesced the parson, ' and I trust that it will not recur. The guardians of the parish have nothing to do with Miss Stafford after school hours, nor any authority to interfere with her seeing her friends. 1 But the time, sir ; you seem to forget the time ! ' exclaimed Gribble, who was working him- self up into a fury. * Besides, that is not all. As I left the schoolhouse — I may say, as I was put out of it — I met young Rushton going in as familiarly as if he lived there. Is that as it ought to be? Miss Stafford would have been driving about with that young man all yesterday after- noon if I had not taken her into Haltham my- self. And I think we all know pretty well what sort of gentleman Mr Rushton is.' 56 A Fatal Silence. 1 Come ! come ! ' interrupted the parson, ' you are going too far. I have never heard anything against the character of Mr Rushton. In fact, I think he is a young man to be highly respected. It appears to me, Mr Gribble, that you are viewing the whole matter with a jaundiced eye. So long as Miss Stafford does her duty to the children of Deepdale, what can it signify to you or anyone what friends she receives in her private apartments when her long day's work is over?' 1 No, indeed,' added Mrs Measures. ' I am sure the poor girl must need a little recreation, for she slaves herself to death in the schoolroom.' Mr Gribble folded his arms, and looked from the husband to the wife in silent amazement. ' What can it signify ? ' he reiterated. ' Well, Mr Measures, I never thought to hear such a question from your lips. Don't this young woman have the charge of our innocent gurls from morning to night? Don't they imbibe her opinions and retain her impressions, and is a person whose conduct is open to the slightest suspicion in regard to levity fit to have the planting of the The Cross- Examination. 57 precious seed in their souls? I'm sorry, Mr Measures, as we don't see this thing in the same light, but Mr Axworthy and me, and several others, have talked it over, sir, and we have come to the conclusion that whilst Miss Stafford refuses to explain her conduct, or to promise to alter it, that we shall withdraw our children from attending the school, and educate them elsewhere.' Mrs Measures looked distressed, and her hus- band stroked his shorn chin thoughtfully. The matter was becoming serious. If the village people clubbed together to ostracise Miss Staf- ford, the funds for the payment of her salary would not be forthcoming. ' You surely cannot be in earnest, Mr Gribble ? ' he said at length. 'You cannot mean to ruin this young woman's prospects for such a trifle ? ' 1 We don't think it a trifle, Mr Measures, and we are in earnest — me and Axworthy, and Green and Wilson. You see, we are all married men, sir, and the ladies have determined that an ex- planation is doo to them, and so it is to all of us — in my opinion.' 58 A Fatal Silence. 'But has anyone asked Miss Stafford for an explanation?' demanded Mr Measures. ' No, sir. We leave that to you, as the proper person to protect the morals of Deepdale.' 'I am sure there will be no difficulty about it," said Mrs Measures anxiously. c Miss Stafford has never tried to conceal any of her doings from us yet. Edward, dear, why not ask her to come over here this afternoon, and put the question to her yourself? She will tell you at once who her visitor was, and then Mr Gribble will be satisfied.' ' If she promises the offence shall not be re- peated,' said the churchwarden cautiously. 1 You have to prove first that it ivas an offence,' observed Mr Measures, in a tone of rebuke. ' However, I will do as my wife suggests, and you and Mr Axworthy can meet Miss Stafford here at five o'clock, if it pleases you, and hear what she has to tell me about her visitor.' 'That is all we ask for, sir, and wc will be punctual,' replied Mr Gribble ; and, accordingly, when the school teacher entered the parson . The Cross-Exaction. 59 she found the two churchwardens awaiting her. The party was assembled in the drawing-room, and as Miss Stafford entered it, with her sweet face rather flushed by annoyance and expectation, Mrs Measures rose promptly to bid her welcome. 1 1 hope it did not inconvenience you to come over, my dear,' she said kindly, ' but Mr Measures wanted to see you particularly this afternoon.' 1 Yes ; I understand,' said Paula simply. 1 Miss Stafford,' commenced the clergyman, 1 1 have such perfect faith in your discretion and candour that I have no hesitation in ask- ing you to answer me a few questions. It seems* that a visitor whom you entertained last night at the schoolhouse has furnished the subject for some unpleasant remarks respecting yourself, and I want you to tell me the whole truth about him, in order that I may contradict any idle stories his visit may have provoked/ Paula's face had assumed rather a haughty look during this little tirade, and at the close of it she asked briefly, — ' What is it you wish to know, sir ? ' 60 A Fatal Silence. ' Who was the man who visited you last evening ? ' 'An old friend of mine.' 'How did he find you out?' 1 1 met him unexpectedly in Haltham yesterday.' ' Perhaps he is a relation ? ' 1 No, sir ; we are not related.' * What is his name ? ' ' That I cannot tell you, Mr Measures.' 1 Mr Gribble tells me he was a sailor ? ' 'Yes, he is a sailor.' ' Where did you make his acquaintance, then ? ' 'That question, also, you must excuse my answering, sir. It belongs to my past life, and has nothing to do with Deepdale.' ' Oh, yes, it has, Miss Stafford, as you will soon see,' exclaimed Mr Gribble, chuckling. ' Are these two men brought here to be my judges, Mr Measures?' said Paula quickly. ' No, no, my dear,' replied the parson ; ' but it will be to your advantage if you can satisfy their natural curiosity on the subject.' ' Unpardonable curiosity, you mean,' amended Mrs Measures warmly. ' Edward, I object to The Cross- Examination. 61 this cross-examination altogether. It is unworthy of you, and insulting to Miss Stafford, who has always conducted herself with rigorous propriety in Deepdale. If she says that her visitor was a respectable man (and I am sure she would receive none other), her word should be suffi- cient for us and everyone. What is the use of knowing his name ? ' 1 / am quite ready to accept Miss Stafford's word,' said the parson. ' Thank you both very much,' replied Paula gratefully. ' But we are not so trusting, Miss Stafford — me and my good friend and brother church- warden here, Mr Axworthy/ exclaimed Mr Gribble, who had constituted himself spokesman ; ' nor the parish ain't so trusting either, as I have already told our good minister and his lady. We demand a full explanation of the reason you had two gentlemen in your rooms last night, and we mean to have it' ( Do you ? ' replied Paula, turning the full light of her blazing eyes upon him, ' then I 62 A Fatal Silence. refuse to give it you. If Mr and Mrs Measures are satisfied that I meant no harm, and did no harm, I care nothing for what anyone else may think or say. My rooms are my own, and whatever visitors I admitted there did not, at all events, force their way in in the unmanly way that you did, Mr Gribble.' ' Very well, Mr Measures,' said the little church- warden, rising, ' this settles it. Neither my daughters, nor Mr Axworthy's daughters, nor the daughters of none of our friends, will attend the parish school again, until that young woman is removed from her office as teacher.' 1 My dear Miss Stafford, do consider,' said the minister in a low voice ; 'your fate is in their hands. If the parish generally make up their minds to withdraw their children from school, the funds to pay your salary will not be forthcoming.' 1 I cannot help it, Mr Measures. I will rather starve than submit to such tyranny. The — the — friend who came last night is not likely to visit me again ; but if he did, I could not refuse to receive him.' The Cross- Examination. 63 ' Yet you will not tell me his name, or his errand ? ' She shook her head. I It seems strange you should observe such reticence, Miss Stafford. A young woman — almost a girl — like yourself can have no past history to conceal. Will you confide this secret to Mrs Measures, who takes a real interest in you ? ' I I will confide it to no one, sir. It concerns no one but myself.' 1 But I understand that young Rushton was also at your rooms last evening.' 4 That is true, sir.' * After the first man had left you.' * After the first had left me. But he only stayed a short time, and the door by which he entered was not even closed behind him.' ' 1 am sorry, though, that you should have allowed him to come in. There was no harm in it, I am sure. Still, the world is very censorious, and a young unmarried woman cannot be too cautious in her behaviour.' ' Well, Mr Measures,' exclaimed Mr Gribble, 64 A Fatal Silence. aggressively, ' and has the young woman given you a satisfactory explanation of the unusual visit she received last night ? ' ' Miss Stafford is apparently not at liberty to disclose the name of the gentleman, nor the object with which he entered the schoolhouse, but I feel certain that she has no reason to be ashamed of either.' 1 1 have not, sir,' replied Paula. ' Well, Mr Axworthy and me are not satisfied, sir, and we must beg as you'll give the young woman her notice. The parish school is meant for the children of the parish, and we have a right to object to such proceedings on the teacher's part. We don't want no scandals in Deepdale, so the sooner she goes the better.' 1 Stop a moment, Mr Gribble, and be good enough to remember to whom you are speaking,' said Mr Measures with dignity; ' it is for me to decide this question, and not you. Miss Stafford,' he continued, turning to Paula, \ I think these men have a certain right on their side, though they have forgotten to temper their The Cross- Examination. 65 justice with mercy. I think you owe Deepdale a little more explanation than you have given. I mean with regard — not to Mr Rushton, whom we all know — but this stranger. But I wish to do nothing in a hurry. Take a couple of days to consider it, and at the end of that time I will see you again. I think that will suit all parties.' ' I thank you, sir, for your indulgence,' said Paula, ' but you may as well give me my notice at once, for it will make no difference. If I am unworthy of being trusted in so small a matter, I must be unworthy to have the charge of the children of this parish committed to me.' ' Of course. That's just what / say,' interposed MrGribble. ' I prefer you should think the matter over quietly for a couple of days,' replied Mr Measures, without noticing the churchwarden's remark, ' and perhaps you may see your way out of the difficulty. My wife will have a talk with you about it, too, and you know she sympathises with you, and believes in you. Now, I will not detain you longer. And I request, Mr Gribble, that neither VOL. 1. E 66 A Fatal Silence. you nor anybody else visits the schoolhouse until this matter is settled. I will not have Miss Stafford worried, nor annoyed in any way. You can do as you choose about your children, but I forbid you, or your wives, intruding your opinions upon her. ' Good-morning - .' The clergyman turned from them to shake hands with the school teacher, and the two church- wardens shuffled out of the room, looking far less pompous than they had done on entering it. Paula Stafford walked home again very thought- fully. As far as she was concerned, the matter was already at a conclusion, for she had not the slightest intention of disclosing Seth Brunt's name, or rousing the public curiosity concerning her past life. How could she tell that, once having a clue, the inquisitive might not go on and on, until they had learned her entire history. She had been thinking, ever since the sailor's visit, that it would be safer and better for her to turn her back on Deepdale. He had came once, against her wishes, and he might come again, and he was a terribly close link with what had The Cross- Examination, 67 gone before. In his enthusiasm for his (so-called) friend, and his clumsy desire to set matters on a less distressful footing, he might blurt out her story to anyone who seemed likely to help him in the matter — might even take Hal Rushton into his confidence, and try to enlist his sym- pathies and assistance. Good Heavens ! it was too great a risk to run. Seth Brunt had driven her from the place for ever. She reached her home, weary and ill at ease, for the thought of leaving Deepdale was linked with a terrible disappoint- ment and a heartache. Her little maid met her at the door with sparkling, excited eyes. 1 Oh, please, teacher, young Mr Martin's been to see you, and he's brought you such a beautiful posy, all jenny-remums and roses — and he's brought a noose-paper, too, and you're to read it, please— and there's been a terrible haccident.' 4 An accident, Sarah — where ? ' 1 On the railway, teacher, and a heap of people killed ; and Mr Martin said 'twas the Evening Noose, and he brought it from Haltham ex- pressly for you to see.' 68 A Fatal Silence. I That was very kind of him, though I don't much enjoy reading of horrors. If you've laid the tea, Sarah, you can go home to your mother. I shall not want anything more to-night.' 'Ain't you well, teacher? ' asked the girl. * I have a headache, my dear. That is all. I shall feel better when I have had my tea.' I I 'ope no one's been a- worrying of you,' said Sarah sympathetically, 'for Tom Green, the butcher's son, told me Mr Gribble had been talking of you in such a manner up at their shop this morning that his fingers itched to knock him down.' Paula flushed faintly. ' That was very good of Tom, Sarah, but you mustn't believe all he says, nor Mr Gribble either. But run along now, for I must not talk to you, or my head will ache worse than it does. Good-night.' And dropping a respectful curtsey, the little serving maiden left her teacher to herself. She poured out her cup of tea and took up the news- paper listlessly, sighing as she unfolded it. The Cross- Examination, 69 If Gribble was going about the village spread- ing scandal as he went, it would be useless for her to attempt to stem the torrent of suspicion that would dog her every movement. Better be out of it all — even at the cost of relinquishing the sweetest hope that had come to her since she had been her own mistress. She had not long to look for the account of the railway accident. It blazed upon her view in the largest possible type as soon as she glanced at the paper. ' Terrible accident to the Northern Express. Collision with the 6 A.M. from Haltham. Twenty passengers killed and wounded.' Her eyes swam in mist. Her head grew dizzy. Where had she heard of the 6 A.M. train from Haltham ? Suddenly it flashed upon her. It was the one by which Brunt intended to travel to see his old mother at Bonnysett. She turned quickly to the list of killed, which was given below, and the first name she came across was that of Seth Brunt, mariner. CHATTER V. THE CONFESSION. It was a terrible shock to her — so sudden and so unexpected that for some time she could not believe it to be true. She did not care for the dead man, far from it. For the last twelve hours she had been regarding the fact of his having met her in Haltham as the greatest misfortune that could have occurred to her. But, though always bluff and outspoken, he had been her friend and her protector in the bygone days ; and even if he had been her enemy, it was frightful to think he should have been cut off so suddenly and by such a terrible death. She read mcchancially how the accident had occurred — how the unfortunate passengers had been crushed and mutilated and The Confession. 7 1 scalded and burned — how they had shrieked and groaned, and how the survivors had wept and fainted, until her heart grew sick within her. But still her eyes kept turning from the detailed horrors that make the fortune of a penny paper to the name at the head of the list of killed, ' Seth Brunt, mariner.' Seth Brunt dead I Seth Brunt, who had sat at that very table, and drank tea with her only the night before, and talked so certainly of his own prospects — dead, dumb, silent for ever more — never able to follow her to Deepdale again, and worry her about changing a resolution which had been firmly and unalterably made so long ago. As she realised the truth, Paula's first feeling was one of relief — her next of shame that she could feel anything but sorrow to hear of an honest, well-meaning life cut off in its prime. And with her self-reproach came her tears, first quietly stealing one after the other from beneath her downcast eyelids, until they coursed rapidly down her cheeks, and she laid her head on the table and cried bitterly — not 72 A Fatal Silence. only for Seth Brunt's death, but for all the re- collections it brought in its train, and the misery which his ill-timed visit had caused her. For Paula could not help recognising that the poor man's unfortunate demise would not help her in the least with the vicar or the church- wardens. It left her in the same perplexity. To reveal his name, and the accident which had removed him from her path, was to put them on the track of her past life, and she might as well make a clean breast of it at once. For there was that other — the friend of the dead man — still living, and whilst he lived she could never feel safe. Her sad thoughts so occupied her mind, and her violent grief so dulled her senses, that someone lifted the latch of the outer door and stood beside the table before she was aware of his presence. 'Paula!' he exclaimed in a voice of concern, 1 what is the matter ? ' She started then, and lifted up her blurred and tear-stained face to encounter the anxious gaze of Hal Rushton. The Confession. 73 ( Oh, Mr Rushton,' she said, springing up, ' I had no idea that I was not alone. How foolish you must think me ! ' And she began to violently wipe her wet face with her handkerchief, while she wondered what she should say if he ques- tioned her. ' I must look a nice fright,' she remarked, with a nervous laugh, as, having given a final resolute dab to her eyes, she sat down again and began to rattle the crockery on the tea tray. ' Never mind what you look like/ replied the young man, ■ but tell me what has occasioned your distress. Surely Mr Gribble has not dared to annoy you again. If he has, he shall answer to me for it.' * No, Mr Gribble has not visited the school- house/ said Paula, with a sob in her throat, ' but I have seen him all the same. I was summoned to the parsonage this afternoon, Mr Rushton, at the suggestion of Mr Gribble and Mr Axworthy, and — and — ' ' Well ? ' demanded Hal anxiously. 1 They have given me the option of telling 74 A Fatal Silence. them everything I know concerning my visitor of last night, or giving up my situation.' * And you will tell them, of course ? ' ' No, I shall relinquish my situation,' returned Paula, with a sigh. I But why, Paula, why ? I acknowledge it is a piece of gross impertinence and tyranny on the part of the churchwardens to demand such an explanation, but there can be nothing that you need mind their knowing, and sooner than lose your position — sooner than leave Deepdale — surely you will make the concession ? ' I I think not. I am a proud woman, and they have wounded my pride — deeply. Mr Measures would be quite satisfied with my assurance that the man came here on purely private business, and that he will never come here again — for he will never come here again, Hal,' said Paula, relapsing into tears — ' but the churchwardens re- fused to accept my word, and I am determined to satisfy them no further. They declare that they and their friends will remove their children from school, and wanted Mr Measures to give The Confession. 75 me my notice at once. But it is all the same. I consider it is given, and so does the vicar, and another month will see me out of Deepdale.' 1 It is infamous, it is scandalous ! ' exclaimed Hal Rushton as he rose and commenced to pace up and down the little room. ' Paula, where will you go to ? ' 1 Oh, that will be easily settled. I have my mother, you know. I shall go to her.' 4 But to be deprived of your means of living, and for no fault of your own. It is shameful ! It may be months before you obtain another appointment, Paula.' 1 That is very likely, particularly with the char- acter I shall carry away from here. But Mr and Mrs Measures are very kind, Hal, and I think they will do their best to help me.' I And you will leave us — you will go, perhaps, to the other end of England, where I may never see you again,' cried the young farmer in despair. I I don't want to go. I would stay if I could. I am very, very unhappy,' said Paula, weeping. Her evident regret raised a hope in Rushton's j 6 A Fatal Silence. breast. He ceased his pacing, and came and sat down close beside her. 1 Paula/ he whispered, bending over her, ' why do you go ? You know you can stay if you choose. When I spoke to you yesterday, darling, about being my friend, and calling me by my Christian name, you must have guessed what I was leading to — that I did not say more only because I feared to startle you — and that, had I shown you all that was in my heart, I should have said, not " Paula, be my friend," but, " be my wife" ' Her face was hidden from him, bent down on her two hands, but as he spoke he saw that she was stirred. 1 Your wife,' she murmured. 1 Yes, dear, my wife, and my friend, for the terms should be synonymous. I am so much alone. You would be everything to me. I told you something of my means and prospects, but it is due now that you should know more. I am not a poor man, Paula. I am (what the country people call) " well-to-do." Higbbridge Farm is my own property, and that, with some houses I The Confession. /J have in Haltham, bring me in over eight hundred a year. By-and-by I hope to double it. So you see that I shall be able to keep you in comfort. Then — don't suppose that I shall let you be worried by my stepmother and her son. Other provision shall be made for them. Only say that you will not leave Deepdale — that you will stay here as the mistress of Highbridge Farm.' He waited a few seconds for an answer, but none came. 1 Why don't you answer me, darling ? ' the young man pleaded. ' You knew I was going to say this some day, surely. You must have seen it was coming.' Paula raised her head and confronted him. There was no agitation in her face — only a deep melancholy — perhaps, in spite of her joy, a little regret. ' Yes, Hal,' she said, ' I have guessed it for some time past. Only, I was not sure if I ought to let you say it — whether it would not be happier for both of us if it were left unsaid.' ' But that is impossible, dearest. What happiness 7 8 A Fatal Silence. could equal that of belonging to each other for life, at least from my point of view. And what is yours, Paula ? Has the prospect no pleasure for you ? ' 'Has the prospect no pleasure for me?' she repeated. ' Ask the starving dog if a meal has no pleasure for him — the drowning man if he cares for a helping hand — the outcast if he would like to enter Paradise. Oh, Hal, if you only knew how desolate, how unsatisfied, how hopeless my life has been.' I And you can love me, Paula ? ' he asked quickly. ' I can — I do, Hal. You worked your way into my heart long ago, and reign there as no other man has ever done. Only — ' I I will hear of no " onlics" ' exclaimed Hal Rushton gaily. ' I have won the woman of my heart, and no one shall forbid the banns. Oh, Paula, if you knew the difference your coming home to Highbridge Farm will make to me. How often I have looked longingly at your lighted window, as I walked past it in the evenings, and wondered if I should ever have the courage to The Confession. 79 woo its inmate to take me and all my belongings under her care. For I am no fit companion for you, Paula. I am only a rough farmer, who wouldn't learn when he had the opportunity, and you are so clever, and well-educated and refined. How will you bear with me ? Sha'n't I seem very bearish and uncouth to you when we live side by side?' 1 1 don't judge you as you do yourself, Hal. I think much more of your manliness, and upright dealing, and warm, generous heart than of a college education. And if you knew how I have come to detest what Mr Gribble calls " learning," since I have been forced to teach, I think, if I am ever freed from the necessity,' said Paula, with a contented laugh, 'that I shall never open a book again.' 'You shall never do anything but what you feel inclined to do,' replied her lover, 'once you have consented to gladden my lonely life. Oh, Paula, what a long vista of happiness lies before us. This is no sudden passion on my part, darling, born of your sweet face and sweeter ways. 80 A Fatal Silence. It is an affection of the growth of months, founded on a real esteem for your character. How I have admired the patience and steadiness and solid worth with which you have lived a very difficult life here, and surmounted all its un- pleasantnesses. But this is the very last you shall be subjected to, Paula. In a month — at the very time when that little brute Gribble hopes to sec you turned out upon the world without a situation — you will become my wife, and take a higher position in Deepdale than either he or any of your persecutors can attain to. Promise to marry me in a month, Paula.' But at that she looked troubled. 1 A months Hal. Oh ! that will be too soon. I cannot give up my engagement under a month, and then I must go home to see my mother, and — and — to consult her.' ' Why can't you consult her by letter, Paula ? Surely you will not defer that for a month. And then — it is not as if you were a very young girl, who had never lived by herself, but you have been knocking about the world, according to your The Confession. 8 r own account, for some years, so why shouldn't we be married first, and go and visit your mother together, eh? It would make a charming wedding trip. What do you say to it ? ' And he put his arm fondly round her waist as he spoke. But Paula shrunk from him. ' My mother would not like it,' she said awkwardly, ' and I should have some arrange- ments to make first. Besides, Hal, are you sure we know enough of one another yet to enter on so serious an engagement ? If I were away a month, there are so many things that I could write to you — things that would make you under- stand me better, perhaps, and — ' ' Nonsense ! ' He interrupted her with a kiss. ' I don't want to understand you better, Paula ; there will be plenty of time for that afterwards. It would be stupid to start in life with nothing left to do — no little discoveries to make, no little surprises to find out. It is these things that will keep us fresh to our dying day. But how solemn, you look over it, darling. If / am satisfied, surely you might be ! ' VOL. I. F 82 A Fatal Silence. I But am I, then,' said Paula, with tremulous lips, 1 am I, then, to prepare myself for finding out a lot of things about you, Hal ? ' He laughed heartily. I I hope not. I don't think I've ever done any- thing very dreadful, or that I should mind your knowing ; but you will be welcome to the whole history, if it interests you. I shall never keep anything from you, Paula. That seems the sweetest and the most real part of marriage, in my eyes. One heart and one mind as well as one body. I hope you think so too.' * It cannot be a true nor a complete marriage without,' she answered ; ' only — ' 1 Well, out with it. No secrets, my sweetest, between us now.' 1 Have you ever loved anybody before me, Hal?' 'Never I' he said emphatically. 'Have you?' 1 No — at least, not as I love you. Once I may have thought I loved, but now I know that I have never felt one tithe of the passion. Oh ! you are too good to me. I am not worthy of The Confession. 83 such trust and confidence as you have placed in me. I might have been anybody — anything.' 1 Yes, you might, but you are not, you see. Therein lies the difference.' ' But if I had been,' she persisted, * would you have loved me all the same ? ' He looked grave as he answered, — 1 I don't think I should have been able to help loving you, whatever you were, you seem so very much to have been made for me. But I confess that if I heard you had been engaged before, or very much in love before, it would take off a considerable amount of charm from our present position. I must have you all to myself, Paula — past, present, and future — something to call my very own for Time and for Eternity. But you have given yourself to me, and I am satisfied. Well, darling, I suppose I must be going now, or we shall have a council of morality sitting on our doings to-morrow morning.' He stood up and folded her closely in his arms. ' Good-night, my Paula, and God bless you, 84 A Fatal Silence. I won't worry you any more this evening, but think over what I have said, and see if you can't manage to make me happy in a month from to- day. Not but what I am the happiest man in Deepdale now/ he added, with a bright smile at the door, ' only — I want you — you — you — and you only and for ever in my arms.' He had scarcely closed it and turned his back upon the schoolhouse before he heard an agi- tated voice pronounce his name. ' Hal, Hal, come back.' He turned at once and re-entered the porch where Paula, with scared eyes and a generally wild appearance, was await- ing him. ■ Don't go yet,' she said breathlessly. ' Stop a minute. I must speak to you.' She almost dragged him over the threshold, and closing the door, stood up against it like a hunted animal defying its pursuers. Hal Rush- ton became alarmed. ' What have I said or done to make you look at me like this?' he asked. 'Nothing — nothing. You are only too kind, too good, too trusting,' she answered, ' but you The Confession. 85 must not go till I have told you something. You shall not hold yourself engaged to me till you have heard that — that I'm not what I seem. I am not called Miss Stafford. My name is — is — ' 'You are not called "Miss Stafford"?' he re- iterated in his surprise. ' Have you been pass- ing amongst us, then, under a false name?' 1 Yes. That is, the situation demanded a single woman, and I thought it best — I thought — ' ' You are not, then, single ? ' he said sternly. ' Oh, yes, I am free (what would you have thought of me else?), but I have been married, Hal. My real name is Madame Bjornsen, and — and — I am a mother.' She dropped her eyes as she made the con- fession, feeling that it might hurt his vanity, but she was little prepared for the storm it evoked. Hal Rushton bounded towards her as though he would have overwhelmed her. ' You have been married ! ' he exclaimed in a voice of repugnance. ' You are not a maiden ! You are a widow, and a mother ! How dared you come here 10 deceive us all ! ' 86 A Fatal Silence. ' Oh, Hal, be merciful. It was in order to earn my bread. How could I tell that anyone would be injured by it ? ' she cried, cowering be- fore his angry eyes. 1 How could you tell ? ' he echoed sarcastically. ' How can you tell when you put your foot down upon a hapless beetle that its life will be crushed out beneath your heel ? You came here amongst us as an innocent, artless girl — something to be wooed and won as a man's first love, to be worn as his only, pure, sacred and unpolluted. I could have sworn that your looks and words were vir- ginal. How basely you have deceived us. And you saw my love was settling itself on you (you have confessed as much), and not only mine, but that of half-a-dozen other fools in Deepdale, who were attracted by the simple, girlish charms of Miss Stafford, little thinking they were letting their affections drift upon a married woman.' 1 I am not married ! ' exclaimed Paula hotly. 1 1 told you that I had turn, but it was all over long ago, and, were it not for the little child, I need not have told you at all. Oh, Hal, don't The Confession. 8j look at me like that ! Had I been sure that you would have spoken to me as you have done to-day, I would have told you of it from the beginning. I speak the truth in saying I did not think my reticence would injure anyone. I took my mother's counsel in acting as I did. If you will only listen to me — ' * I do not want to listen to you. I am too deeply hurt and disappointed. Consider every- thing I have said to you to-night unsaid. My words were meant for Paula Stafford — not for the widow of Monsieur Bjornsen (or whatever the fellow's name may have been).' Paula drew herself up proudly. 1 That is for your own decision,' she replied, ' and you will never find me try to make you alter it. But, in justice to myself, you shall not leave me until you have heard the truth. My father died many years ago, leaving my mother in necessitous circumstances, and when I was eighteen she was glad to marry me to Carl Bjornsen, a Swedish gentleman, and master of a trading vessel, the Lily of Christiansand. I married him with my 88 A Fatal Silence. own consent. He was good-looking, and appar- ently fond of me, and after a certain fashion I liked him. That my marriage turned out a very unfortunate one, and made me a miserable woman, will have no interest for you, perhaps, but it may account for my wish — when I returned to my mother's protection, with my poor baby on my hands — to cast all remembrance of the past behind me. My husband was a drunkard and an evil liver, and I was unprovided for. It was necessary i should work to support myself and my child, and I came to Deepdale in order to do so. That is all of my history that concerns you or anyone ; but it is due to myself that you should learn why I changed my name, and led you into the unfor- tunate mistake of believing me to be a single woman.' She abandoned her position at the door as she concluded, and walked wearily to the table. Per- haps she thought that Hal Rushton would follow her, and retract his words. But he did not. His feelings had been too much outraged by her con- fession. He pounced upon the handle as soon as The Confession. 89 it was free, and turned it eagerly, as though all his desire was to escape from her presence. ' I am sorry for your troubles, Madame Bjornsen, he replied coldly, ' and I trust you may find a way out of them, but it would have been better for all parties if your fit of honesty had come on sooner. As it is, your reticence has ruined my life as com- pletely as your own. Good-bye ! ' And clapping his felt hat on his head, Hal Rushton, with his heart all afire, turned out of the schoolhouse and commenced to walk rapidly towards Highbridge Farm. Paula sat where he had left her — stunned and hopeless. Everything seemed over now. She felt as if the world had receded from her like a great ocean, and she was standing on a rock, isolated and alone, watching the waves go further and further away. Her situation was gone, and her lover, and both from the same reason — the horrible influence which her marriage with Carl Bjornsen had left behind it. It was useless to curse her past folly or her present ill-fortune. She had done that so often that she 90 A Fatal Silence. was sick of it. All that remained was to take up the burden again where she had dropt it, and toil on anew. After all, there was Paul — poor, stricken little Paul — to think of and work for, and her mother, thank Heaven, however poor, was always glad to see her face again. And so Paula Bjornsen, on retiring to rest, tried determinately to blot out the handsome, wrathful face of Hal Rushton from her imagination, and to think only of those two who were legitimately her own, and whom she was destined so soon to see again. CHAPTER VI. HIGHBRIDGE FARM. HlGHBRIDGE FARM stood on the summit of the hill which formed one side of the valley of Deep- dale, and was by far the most important building in the neighbourhood. It had been in the pos- session of the Herefords (Hal Rushton's mother's family) for upwards of two centuries before it fell, by marriage, into old Mr Rushton's hands, and it was he who had changed its name from Highbridge Hall to Highbridge Farm, as more consonant with his occupation. It was a long, low house of red brick, darkened to shades of brown and purple with the progress of the centuries, and possessed a slated roof overlaid with a thick thatch. Its outer walls were covered with creepers, which clung lovingly to it without 92 A Fatal Silence. the help of list or nails. Its windows were gabled and lattice-paned, the front door was protected by a deep porch, and the stables and outhouses were all in keeping with the principal edifice. Inside, the rooms were large and lofty — the sitting-rooms greatly exceeding in number those usually required for a farmer's establish- ment, and the sleeping apartments built all round the upper portion of the house, with each one opening into the other, as used to be the custom in the days of night alarms from highwaymen. Outside, the grounds were capacious, although much of that formerly devoted to pleasure had been annexed by the late owner for agricultural purposes. Still, enough of the old shrubberies remained to make a very decent clump of trees around the garden, which bloomed with all sorts of old-fashioned flowers. The house was rather sparsely furnished, and the furniture was old- fashioned and worn. Young Mr Rushton had not cared to renovate the place for the conveni- ence of his stepmother and her son, and as for himself, he was scarcely ever in it. His Highbridge Farm. 9 T great hobby was riding to hounds, and during the hunting season he spent half his time out of doors. The stables were consequently what he took interest in (leaving most of the farming operations to the sagacity of his bailiff), and Mrs Rushton was always prophesying that he would live to repent of his folly. But, then,, everything that the young owner of Highbridge Farm did was folly in the eyes of his step- mother. How he came to keep so unpleasant a person about the premises was a matter of wonder to most of his acquaintance — and how his father had ever established her there, a still greater. But old Mr Rushton had not been of such good blood as his first wife, and after her death he dropt into the habit of associating with persons of a much lower grade. Mrs Snaley had been one of them. Her first husband was nothing better than a herdsman, and she had been a laundress and sick-nurse, and accus^ tomed since her widowhood to come in and superintend the domestic affairs of Highbridge Farm when the owner had one of his spells of 94