himself of this harangue; then recollecting for the first time that he
had no card of invitation from, or introduction to, her ladyship, began
to stammer forth his excuses, that he had dropped in on the strength of
having met Sir Lexicon for a few minutes at the mess of the Fusiliers,
and had accepted his general invitation as a _carte blanche_. He was
quickly relieved from his embarassment by his handsome hostess declaring
herself fortunate in numbering among her friends so gallant a
chevalier. "I was not aware that your regiment was in town, nor do I
believe that I have ever met your distinguished corps, and it was to
explain away the seeming slight in neglecting to forward cards that I
have requested a few minutes' conversation with you."

"Your ladyship is kindness itself, and our fellows will duly appreciate
your affability on reaching Madras; for, unfortunately for them, we are
still quartered at Secunderabad. I alone am here on court martial duty
and have, I fear, intruded upon your hospitality. But I believe I have
had the pleasure of meeting your ladyship before, though I must confess
that when and where has escaped my memory; unpardonable in me,
certainly, to forget the occasion that introduced me to so charming a
lady." They were standing opposite one of the large mirrors, and by a
skillful manipulation of her fan, the hostess contrived to obtain a
perfect view of the features of the gentleman who was now addressing
her, at the same time revealing but little of her own. For a few moments
she too was mystified as to who he was, or under what circumstances they
had met, or whether it was a case of simple mistaken identity; but
another searching glance at the mirror, and the truth flashed upon her
in an instant. Her thoughts travelled back to Vellenaux. Yes, it was he,
the same Snaffle of the Lancers, who had figured as young Lochinvar at
the fancy dress ball, and had subsequently lunched there on one or two
occasions during the shooting season, prior to Arthur's joining his
regiment. She felt certain that he had not as yet recognized her, but
that he must do so at length she felt convinced. To be recognized by him
after so many years was an event which she had not calculated on. It
was one to be dreaded, for, doubtless, the disclosures that he could
make, would bring her to disgrace and ultimate ruin; but she was equal
to the trying ordeal.

"If we have met, my dear sir," she said, in a low, soft voice, "it must
have been at the Cape, or in London. Although I do not think that your
regiment was in either of those places during my residence there, but
that circumstance need not prevent us from becoming better acquainted."
He bowed and retired, and the smiling hostess moved among her guests as
though nothing had occurred to disturb her. On the following morning the
card of Captain Snaffle was handed to her, but she excused herself from
appearing on the plea of indisposition. The sight of the Lancer's card
both startled and alarmed her. He had discovered her identity with the
ex-governess of Vellenaux, or he would never have presented himself at
so early an hour after the bail. What was to be done? She must return at
once to Pallamcotta, and an hour after the gallant Captain had left, she
quitted her bungalow. She need not have been so much alarmed, for,
although Snaffle, who, during the evening, had obtained a good look at
her unobserved, it was not until late in the morning that he remembered
her as the companion of Edith at Vellenaux. Nor had he heard anything of
Sir Ralph's death, or the crime which had caused her to fly from
England, but this she did not know, and as "conscience makes cowards of
us all," she sought the refuge of her bungalow at Pallamcotta.

With agitated feelings, and distracted with doubts and fears, it was in
no enviable state of mind that Lady Chutny re-entered her home on the
plantation. Judge then of her indignation to find that during her
absence the favourite mistresses had been re-established in their old
comfortable quarters, for, while she had been amusing herself at the
Capital with balls and parties, they had regained their ascendency over
Sir Lexicon, who, not expecting her ladyship's return for several weeks,
had consented to their returning to the bungalow until suitable
arrangements could be made for them. He ladyship's sudden and unexpected
return, together with her order for their immediate expulsion, aroused
their passions--which during her absence had remained dormant--to
intense hatred, and they were determined to sacrifice her at the altar
of jealousy and revenge, and resolved to execute their wicked project
without further delay. Sir lexicon's absence, they well knew, would
afford them an excellent opportunity for carrying out their design. The
servants, they were sure, would act in concert with them, by affording
them the facilities they required.

"Gopall," said one of the three, "bring the Madam Sahib's food into my
room before you place it on the table this evening." "And," responded
another, "I wish to act as her ayah, and carry the sherbet to her
chamber tonight. You understand, eh? You shall have a gold mohur from
us." The butler grinned with intense satisfaction, for he had no doubt
of their intentions, and his little black eyes twinkled with delight at
the idea of receiving the gold coin promised; and at once gave the
assurance that they might count upon his assistance, and likewise the
co-operation of the other servants.

During dinner Lady Chutny enquired whether her orders regarding the
three women had been attended to, and if they had left the house. The
crafty butler pretended not to understand the meaning of her words. She
could not speak the language, and her ayah, who had always acted as
interpreter, whenever she wished to issue her commands personally, had
been, owing to her hasty retreat, left behind at the Capital. Boiling
with rage at being, as it were, set at defiance in her own house and by
her own domestics, fatigued with her journey, and alarmed at the
prospect of being in the power of Captain Snaffle, also dreading the
disclosures he might make, it was no wonder that she sought the quiet of
her own chamber much earlier than was her usual custom. For several
hours she turned uneasily on her couch, her mind disturbed by
conflicting doubts and fears, when a strange attendant entered, bearing
a large goblet of sherbet, which had been rendered deliciously cool by
being placed for several hours in a mixture of saltpetre and glauber
salts. This was her favourite evening beverage, which, in her now heated
and excited state was very acceptable. Motioning the woman to place it
on the teapoy, near her pillow, she was about to give her further
instructions, when she noticed that she was a stranger, not from her
features, for they were concealed beneath the folds of her sarree, which
had been thrown completely over her head, revealing only a small portion
of the lower part of her face, but from her general appearance. Finding
that she was not understood, she stretched forth her hand for the goblet
and took a long draught, unconscious of the piercing dark eyes that
gleamed down upon her with jealous hatred and fiendish pleasure from
behind the silken sarree of her new attendant, as she took from her hand
the half-emptied goblet, which, after placing on the teapoy, she
quickly left the room. There was something suspicious about the action
of the woman, but Lady Chutny was too much occupied with her own
thoughts to notice it at the time, and soon after sank into a doze from
which she started in affright, as if from some dreadful dream, only to
fall into another. This occurred several times. At length, after
finishing the remainder of the sherbet, she dropped into a deep sleep.

The sun was high in the heavens when she again awoke. A burning fever
consumed her, and delirium had fastened on her with fearful spasmodic
and excruciating pains internally. She endeavored to rise, but fainted
in so doing. She shrieked wildly for assistance, but none heeded her
cries. For hours she was thus, left alone, the pains increasing, and her
brain in a constant whirl. Again she slept, how long she knew not. When,
on awaking, she found the same attendant who had waited on her the
previous evening, standing at her bedside. She had brought food, of
which her ladyship partook slightly but eagerly, and called for tea,
which was handed her.

"Has Sir Lexicon returned," she enquired. The attendant shook her head.
"Send for him immediately, and likewise a doctor. I am in great agony."
The woman muttered something, and left her. Through the long, lonely
hours of that dark night, the wretched woman, wracked by intense pain,
with insanity steadily gaining the ascendency, tossed to and fro on her
weary bed, and when overtaxed nature did succumb to slumber, wild
dreams, and wilder fancies haunted her between sleeping and waking. She
fancied she saw at her bedside the forms of Edith, Arthur, and Ralph
Coleman. The latter she denounced as a coward and traitor, from Carlton
she hid her face, but to Edith she stretched forth her hand and implored
her to save her from the torments she was now enduring, but only meeting
with a scornful laugh, fell back upon her pillow exhausted.

This had not been quite all fancy, for the three mistresses of the
planter had stolen into her chamber to feast their cruel eyes upon the
dying agonies of their helpless victim. Towards the middle of the fourth
day, reason had somewhat resumed its sway, and the violence of the pains
she had experienced were subdued, the ayah had arrived from the Capital
and now resumed her attendance upon her mistress. She had sought out the
native doctor who attended the sick of the plantation. He, although in
the pay of the three women, thought it best to visit Lady Chutny when
summoned.

"Is there no European doctor?" enquired the patient, as the native
practitioner felt her pulse and otherwise examined her.

"No, madam, but I will ride to the next station and endeavour to procure
one," replied the crafty little man. Then turning to the ayah, said, "I
should have been called in sooner. The Sahib must be sent for without
delay," and after leaving a few instructions, left the room. He knew
that death must soon ensue, and was determined to be absent on Sir
Lexicon's arrival under the pretence of doing all in his power to
procure European medical assistance. As he passed through the women's
apartment he said to them, "I am going for a European doctor. Of course,
I shall not find one. You understand? You have done your work
completely. She will die at sunset. You had better send for a
missionary or priest, and have her buried as soon as possible. Let the
grave be dug under the palm trees, on the south side of the plantation,
and have all done decently and in order, and the master will attach no
blame to any one or have any suspicion that foul play has been used,
then you can easily persuade him to allow the body to remain there."

The native doctor was right. The unhappy woman never saw the rising of
another sun, and in the white sands, beneath the waving palms, where the
hyena prowled and the wild jackall barked hoarsely through the night,
lies the mortal remains of this ambitious woman, who thus fell a victim
to the jealous and revengeful passions of those by whom she had been
surrounded by her unscrupulous husband.

The third day after the ball, Captain Snaffle again presented himself at
Lady Chutny's bungalow, and was informed that her ladyship had left
town, and would, in all probability be absent some weeks. The
fashionable world was in a great commotion at this unexpected event.
They could not understand it. To leave town at the height of the season,
and just as she had achieved so great a triumph as her last ball was
allowed to be, it was quite inexplicable. It was talked of, canvassed
over, and commented upon, at the band stand, race course,
conversaziones, and mess room, for several days, and, in fact, until the
mystery was cleared up by a startling _denouement_.

"I say, Snaffle, old fellow, who the deuce is she? You know, or I am
much mistaken. I saw you making great play, and coming it rather heavy
with her on the night of the ball. I watched you both for some time. You
two have met before under different circumstances. I wager my chestnut
mare against your bay colt that I am right. Will you say done?" and
Harry Racer, of the Fusiliers, here produced his book in hopes of
entering a bet.

"Not quite so fast Racer, my boy. There is no mystery in the matter, no
subject for a wager. We have met before, I knew it while talking to her,
but could not remember where. I recollect all now. Whether she
recognized me or not, I cannot tell. She is a very clever woman. If you
will say nothing about it, I will tell you all I know."

"Not I! not I," replied Racer, half despondingly at the prospect of
being able to enter a wager in his betting book disappearing.

"Well then," continued Snaffle, "she was a Mrs. Fraudhurst, a widow
governess and companion to a rich heiress, niece of Sir Jasper Coleman
of Vellenaux in Devonshire. How she got out here, and in what way she
managed to hook Sir Lexicon, I cannot imagine, but I will find it all
out at our next interview, depend upon it."

"Stop! By Jupiter! Did you say governess, Baronet, name Coleman, place,
Vellenaux, Devonshire? Here's a go! Not a word. Here, Ramsammy, bring
the fyle of English newspapers from the library, quick." The papers were
handed to him, and, selecting _Bell's Life_, Harry Racer commenced
reading the following paragraph:--

"Frightful railway accident. Death of Sir Ralph Coleman of Vellenaux,
Devonshire. Startling disclosures. Stolen Will. Heiress defrauded.
Flight from the country of accomplice, the family governess. Full
particulars in our next issue."

"That's her, the planter's lady. Large as life and twice as natural. The
thing is as clear as mud in a wine glass. All plain and smooth as a
three mile course. The mystery is solved. She recognized you at the
ball, saw that you were mystified, but would, doubtless, remember her if
you met again. You call the next morning. She refuses to see you on the
plea of indisposition. Takes the alarm, bolts off the course, and makes
for the open country, where she, doubtless, intends to remain until she
hears that you are safe on your road to Secunderabad; and now, old
fellow, what are you going to do? There is money to be made out of this
matter if you are not too squeamish," and here Racer tipped a knowing
wink to his friend of the Lancers.

But Captain Snaffle was a gentleman, and had no idea of trading upon the
necessities of others, be they who they might. He merely replied by
saying:

"Racer, you will not mention a word of this to any one at present. I
will go down to Pallamcotta and find out to what extent Lady Chutny has
compromised herself. After that we can decide what is to be done about
letting fashionable world into the secret." The two friends left the
Fusiliers' mess room, Harry Racer trotting off to inspect some new
horses that he had got scent of, and Snaffle to his own quarters.

The following morning saw him on his way to Sir Lexicon's plantation. On
the road he overtook the baronet, and they rode the remainder of the
distance together. Imagine their consternation on finding that lady
Chutny was both dead and buried.

The planter, with his usual indolence and procrastination, was for
allowing things to remain as they were. "There is no use," he said,
"now, that the matter is all over, of disturbing the body. I will have
a handsome monument erected over her remains, and the place shall be
nicely laid out with shrubs and flowers, and kept in good order while I
live;" But Captain Snaffle thought otherwise. He felt certain that the
woman had not been accessory to her own death, but that foul play had
been used by some one and he was determined to ferret it out.
Immediately on his return to Madras he communicated his suspicions to
the police authorities, and enquiries were instituted, a reward offered,
and the whole affair came to light.

But it was not until several months after this event transpired that our
friends at Vellenaux became aware of the ultimate fate of the
ex-governess. Captain Snaffle, in a letter to Arthur, gave an account of
the whole transaction, from which it transpired, that, on enquiries
being set on foot respecting Lady Chutny's sudden death, Gopall, the
butler, turned Queen's evidence, and confessed the whole of the
diabolical plot. Datura, a powerful narcotic poison, had been mixed with
the sherbet, this produced delirium, and a quantity of pulverized glass
had been introduced into the food given to the unsuspecting victim,
which produced inflammation of the bowels, and the combined effects of
these caused death. However, the perpetrators of the foul deed
unfortunately managed to escape, by what means the writer did not state.




CHAPTER THE LAST.


Carlton Abbey, the estate of the Earls of Castlemere for centuries back,
was situated near Ollarten, on the borders of Sherwood Forest, in
Nottinghamshire. It was formerly a religious house of the highest order,
largely and richly endowed, whose broad acres ran some distance into
"Merrie Sherwood" itself. It is reported that the renowned Robin Hood,
with a score of his followers, once sought and obtained shelter and
protection there, when pursued by the Sheriff of Nottinghamshire for
slaying the king's deer and other misdemeanors within the limits of the
forest; and later here also took place the celebrated meeting between
Cardinal Woolsey and the Duke of Buckingham, previous to that haughty
prelate's dismissal from royal favor and ultimate disgrace, and on the
death of the Marchioness of Cosingby who, for forty years reigned as the
Lady Abbess, the sisters of this order moved elsewhere, as the property
fell into the hands of Eustace, first Earl of Castlemere, heir-at-law,
by whom and his successors, alterations and additions were made becoming
the home of an English noble; but although the last Earl lived a retired
and secluded life, Carlton Abbey was not allowed to fall into decay, and
the manor, preserves, and grounds generally were kept in excellent
order, and so the Earl of Castlemere, as we must now designate our hero,
found it; for on being assured that he was, beyond the possibility of a
doubt, heir to the estate, had paid a flying visit to Nottinghamshire,
and while there had given orders to the housekeeper and steward to have
a handsome suit of apartments prepared for the reception of the Countess
and himself; he likewise gave directions to his agent to raise a troop
of volunteer cavalry, the cost of which was to be defrayed out of the
revenues of the estate, the men to be selected from among the tenantry
and well-to-do farmers residing on the Abbey lands.

On their return from the continent, the Earl and his bride took formal
possession of Carlton Abbey, received the visits of the neighboring
families, inspected the newly improvised cavalry, mustered and feasted
the tenantry, and made known to all concerned that they intended to
reside, for at least four months in each year, at the Abbey, then took
their departure, leaving a very favorable impression behind them.

On the return to London of Edith and Arthur from their wedding tour,
they were presented at Court. The Queen seemed to take considerable
interest in the handsome Earl and his beautiful Countess, for His
Excellency the Commander-in-chief had mentioned to Her Majesty some of
Arthur's gallant exploits while in India, and the romantic train of
events that had happened to both Earl and Countess prior to their
marriage. As a mark of royal favor they were invited to Windsor Castle.
This, in itself, was sufficient to give them _eclat_ in the highest
circles. They gave a series of brilliant entertainments in Saint James'
Square, which hundreds of the highest in the land made a point of
attending. Fortunately the London season was at its close; this allowed
Edith to carry out her long-cherished wish to return to Vellenaux as
its honoured mistress. There were associations connected with it that
could not be effaced by all the gaieties of the most magnificent courts
of Europe. Arthur too was somewhat tired of the exciting life they had
led for some months past, and was anxious to re-visit the quiet spot
where the happiest years of his early life had been spent; accordingly
they left London for their old home among the beech woods of Devon.

The day of high jubilee, the day of feasting and merriment, such as had
never been witnessed in Vellenaux by its oldest inhabitant, at length
arrived. High and low, rich and poor of the village and for miles
around, turned out in holiday costume to witness the return of Edith and
Arthur to their childhood's happy home. Triumphal arches of eve greens
and flags had been erected at different places between Switchem station
and the Park gates. The two troops of volunteer cavalry that had been
raised from among the tenantry of Carlton Abbey and Vellenaux, armed and
equipped at the expense of the Earl and Countess, already licked into
something like order and discipline by the non-commissioned officers of
the regular service, procured through Arthur's interest at the Horse
Guards, lined both sides of the road between the arches. Several bands
of music, sent down from London, were stationed in different parts of
the grounds, and enlivened the scene by playing many of the most popular
airs of the day. A deputation of about one hundred gentlemen and
well-to-do farmers, all mounted, and headed by the Lord Lieutenant of
the County, met the happy couple as they stepped from the platform into
their open barouche, with its four prancing and gaily decorated horses,
which was in waiting at the Switchem station. After several addresses
had been read and replied to, the cortege passed slowly on towards
Vellenaux, the cavalry filing in rear and the gay holiday seekers
following as best they could. On arriving at the principal entrance the
party alighted, the host and hostess, and their invited guests proceeded
to the grand hall, where a magnificent collation awaited them. The
remainder spread themselves over the grounds and Park, where, beneath
the outspreading branches of the fine old trees, were placed benches,
beside tables groaning under the weight of enormous sirloins, rounds of
beef, and pies of mighty dimensions, with sweet home-made broad, and
other edibles of various descriptions. Tents were pitched here and
there, where also could be obtained, all free, gratis and for nothing,
fine old October ale, rich sparkling cider, clotted cream, curds and
whey, tea and coffee, and confectionery in great abundance. Feasting and
merriment being the order of the day.

Games of various kinds were entered into with such alacrity and good
will, proving how thoroughly they were enjoyed by both participants and
lookers on. Cricket, pitching the quoit, and foot ball was going on in
one part of the grounds, single stick; and quarter staff playing, and
wrestling matches between the men of "Merrie Sherwood," Nottingham, and
the yeomen of Devon in another.

There were also foot races and a variety of other amusements taking
place in the home park, while the votaries of Terpsichore tripped it
gaily on the green, velvety award beneath the grand old oaks; and not a
few of the lads and lasses betook themselves down the green, shady
alleys to the woods in search of blackberries, or to gather bunches of
clustering hazel-nuts. The intimate friends of the lady of Vellenaux
amused themselves with archery and croquet on the lawn, and strolled
about the grounds watching the tenantry and others in their pursuit of
pleasure. All the servants and retainers, for none had been discharged,
hailed with delight the return of their young mistress and her handsome
husband, for both were alike looked up to and respected for their many
amiable qualities, by those among whom they had been brought up since
childhood. The two old veterans, Bridoon and Tom the game keeper, had,
in honor of the occasion, donned their uniforms and were the big guns of
the evening, presiding, as they did, at the upper ends of the tables
where the volunteer cavalry were regaling themselves to their heart's
content on the good things provided for them.

The day's festivities were closed with a grand display of fire works,
and bonfires were lit in many places, which crackled and sent upwards
millions of bright sparks, to the intense delight of the juvenile
portion of the community. The long rooms in the two public houses, in
the village, were thrown open for dancing. The servants' hall, and the
two great barns at Vellenaux were also decorated and arranged for the
same purpose, and a right joyous time was there kept up, almost until
the dawn of day.

Within the time-honoured walls, in one of the superb and luxuriously
furnished apartments of Vellenaux, did Edith and Arthur, on this, the
first night of their return, entertain the Bartons, Cotterells,
Ashburnhams, Denhams, and a large circle of acquaintances. It was not a
ball, not exactly a conversazione, but a sort of happy re-union, an
assemblage of old friends and familiar faces, many of whom, had, to a
certain extent, participated in the joys and sorrows that had attended
their host and hostess from their youth upwards, and, as this pleasing
picture fades from view, let us take a perspective glance through a
pleasant vista of progressive years, at another equally interesting
tableaux, whose back ground and surroundings are the same as the
previous one. Vellenaux, that magnificent pile of buildings, with its
beautiful and varied styles of architecture, embosomed, as it were, in
the rare old woods of Devon, its parks and wondrous parterres, its
fountains, marble terraces and statuary, all brought out in bold relief
by the glorious golden light of a summer's setting sun.

On a spacious terrace of the western wing, whose broad steps of fine
Italian marble led down to the clear, open, finely gravelled walk that
surrounded a beautiful and well kept lawn, were grouped, in various
positions, a number of ladies, gentlemen, and children, with all of
whom, the juveniles excepted, the reader is already acquainted.

The Earl of Castlemere, with his beautiful Countess leaning lovingly on
his arm, are pacing leisurely up and down among the assembled guests,
exchanging here and there words of courteous pleasantry. Lounging over
the back of a handsome fautiel, Colonel Snaffle, of the Lancers, is
conversing with Pauline Barton, in his usual gay and lively manner,
relating to some reminiscence which occurred to them while dwelling on
the sunny plains of Hindostan. Horace Barton, Aunt Cotterell and the
Rev. Charles Denham were discussing some knotty point concerning high
and low church, etc., while some political question was evidently
exciting the minds of the worthy old Stockbroker, Dr. Ashburnham, and
Tom Barton. The good natured Draycott was exhausting his powers of
pleasing by relating to Mrs. Ashburnham, her sister Emily and pretty
Cousin Kate, the last _on dit_ going the rounds of the fashionable
circles at the metropolis.

Light-hearted, happy children gamboled on the broad marble steps, or
seated on soft cushions at their parents' feet, listened to the
sparkling wit, repartee and agreeable rattle that broke forth among the
gay loungers on the terrace. Occasionally the eyes of the whole party
would rest with admiration and pride on the scene enacting before them,
and well they might, for on the smooth, soft, velvet-like sward of the
croquet lawn, eight youthful figures, the eldest scarcely sixteen, were
engaged in that most exhilarating, delightful and exciting of all out
door amusements, the game of croquet.

The Lady Eglentine Carlton, eldest daughter of the Countess of
Castlemere, a tall, graceful girl, inheriting all her mother's soft
beauty of form and features, stood with her small, exquisitely shaped
foot resting on a bright, blue ball, evidently listening to some
suggestion of her partner, Clarence Ashburnham, preparatory to giving
the final stroke that would croquet her adversary's ball to a
considerable distance. Not far off stood, in an easy position, the
Earl's handsome son and heir, Lord Adolphus Carlton, mallet in hand,
explaining to pretty Alice Denham, the rector's daughter, what effect on
the game his sister's stroke would have if correctly given. Kate Barton,
the little golden-haired fairy, as she was called generally, is
chatting merrily with the Honourable Eustace Carlton, a noble,
aristocratic looking youth, with chestnut curls and the bright, flashing
eyes of the Earl, his father, declaring with great animation that their
side must win, while Maud Ashburnham, the physician's dark-haired
daughter, a sparkling brunette, full of life and vivacity, announces to
her partner, Alfred Arthur Denham, that her next stroke shall carry her
through the last hoop, this will make her a rover, and she will then
come to his assistance; and thus the game progressed, first in favor of
one side and then the other, till at length a splendid stroke from the
youthful Lady Eglentine's mallet, put her own and her partner's ball
through the last wire arch, placing them in a triumphant position,
amidst shouts of applause from their own side.

The game was now nearly over, for the bright orb of day had already sank
behind the distant hills, and the silvery crescent of the summer's young
moon had risen above the tops of the tall chestnuts and was shooting
forth her rays of soft, pale light, rendering all objects shadowy and
indistinct, while the gently deepening purple shades of eve, and the
gray mists of twilight were fast closing in and around the happy group,
hiding from further view, as it were, with a veil of soft, fleecy
clouds, the family and fortunes of Arthur, Earl of Castlemere, and his
beautiful Countess, Edith, the Lady of Vellenaux.


THE END.