Our Serial Story.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXVII, Issue 2670, 27 November 1909, Page 1 (Supplement)

Our Serial Story.

By Fergus Hume.

| “The Jew's House,”

CHAPTER XIII. A MYSTERY. It was indeed Judith who hastily entered the room. Without even a glance at Verily, she crossed to her lover, and threw herself into his arms., “I knew ...you would come this evening,” she said, kissing him three or’four times; “my » heart told me so, when 1 was with mother at Mrs Trainer’s. I made an -excuse and came back.” “And thy mother?** asked the farmer. “She remained behind. I did not wish to disturb her pleasure, and shewill come back in an hour. Oh, Lancelot, I am so glad to see you. Why have .you not been to .see me for quite three. ::-evenings?” “I have been busy,” said the young man, evasively. ‘As if that counted for an excuse with a lover,” laughed Judith, and “threw off her grey cloak, to appear in her usual sober Quaker costume. The excitement of meeting Lancelot had brought the brilliant color to her cheeks, and the rosy hues accentuated the darkness of her eyes. In the quiet sitting-room she glowed like some splendid star, radiating light and warmth. Even Verily felt the magnificence of her youthful beauty, and pointed .-out the same to Ashton. ‘The child doth not look tearful and sad, friend Lancelot, as thou wouldst have me think,” he said sententiously, twiddling his thumbs. “Why should I be tearful and sad?” Judith, turning from the '-door, behind which she was hanging up her cloak and bonnet. “You have been crying lately,V murmurmured Ashton, pointedly. “I have good reason too,” replied the girl, flashing a defiant glance at the Quaker. > “I should like to learn the reason, nmy dear.” “It’s not worth while telling,” said Jfidith, more soberly. “Come and sit on the sofa beside me; Lancelot. We have'much to talk about, you bad boy. Ob, my dear, my darling,” in spite of the presence of Verily she flung her ; arms round Ashton’s neck, “how 1 have missed you. I hope the time may come very soon when we shall never, never be apart.” •>‘That depends upon you, Judith.” . “‘On me? What do you mean?” “‘I mean that you may prefer wealth .•and a title to—” x “Oh!” Judith started to her feet, and turned an angry eye on the farmer. “Have you been telling Lancelot how Sir Reginald has been persecuting .me?” “Nay,” rejoined Verily quietly, “for there hath been no persecution.” “Oh, father, how can you say that, when you know Sir Reginald is here morning noon and night?. He pays me .attentions which I hate, and however •■much you wish me to marry him, I •certainly shall not. Here is my future husband,” she pressed close to Lancelot’s side, “and if I do not marry him, .1 shall go to my grave a lonely woman.” “My dear! my dear!” Lancelot kiss- [ ~ed her lips fondly. “Well, Phineas?” “Friend,” said the Quaker gravely, “the child speaketh without thought. I admit —as I told you before Judith • came —that the young man Dove hath paid attentions to the child. Also I have pointed out to her that wealth is not to he despised—” “Or rank either, I suppose,” scoffed' Judith, her eyes sparking fire. “Nay, child. Thou knowest that we "•care nought for rank, which is a wain' thing in the eyes of George Fox’s dis-■-eiples. But wealth is good.” “Not without love, father. I shall marry Lancelot when and where he will, and share his poverty with joy.” “It will not be poverty now, my -dear. I have gained the start, and it . remains with me to make a success of my career. For your dear sake I shall work day and night. I never doubted but what you would be true to me, in spite of Dove, and his wealth.” “What!” Judith drew apart for the moment. “Do you know —” “I know all that Miss Cashell could - tell me, -dear.” “The governess; you have seen her?” “Ye,s. She called at Clock Inn, and -.explained how Sir Reginald was coming here to make love to you. As rt. Miss Cashell wants to marry him, she naturally feels aggrieved that he should leave her for you.” “She need not be aggrieved,” said Judith, quietly, “for I care nothing about Sir Reginald. He gave me .to understand that he would like to make me his wife, and I. told him that I was -engaged heart and soul to you. I must - say, when he had my answer he ceased -to trouble me, and I daresay will go back to Ida Casbell. But.it is strange to me— and I say this in your presence, Lancelot that my father should wish me to be untrue to you.” “Nay child,” chimed in Verily, hast- - jly. “I do not seek thine unhappiness. “You pointed out the wisdom of marrying Sir Reginald.” “And I told thee the reason why I -pointed it out, Judith.’ The girl dropped her head, and her .. eyes filled with tears. Lancelot caught her in his arms, to speak softly. “Dear. est, there must ..be an .end -to all this VV- V / . ,

Author of the “Mystery of a Hansom Cab, ” “ The Yellow Holly, ” “ The Mandarin’s Fan, ” “ The Sealed Message, ” etc., etc., etc. (All Rights Reserved)

mystery between us, ne wnisperea. “You, weep now, as you have wept before, so you must let me dry those tears.” “You cannot, no one can,” \ “Save the Hebrew, Ben-Ezra,” said Verily, in his deep voice..- v ■' -Judith started and shivered, but did not speak. Ashton placed his hands on-either side of her blushing face, and. made her look into his eyes. “Judith, dear, he said, \ slowly and gravely, “your father tells me that Ben-Ezra has a greater right to direct your doings than he has, and advised me to ask you to.explain.. I ask now.- What has Ben-Ezra to do with you?” Verily opened his mouth, hut Ashton silenced the coming speech with a gesture. Judith dried her eyes and reflected Then she said as she met the inquiring gaze of her lover: “You thought that I hated the Jew?” “No, dear—that is, I knew that you ‘did not hate him for himself. Because of his treatment of me and mine, you hated him.” “That is true, and I cannot understand why such a good, kind man could have acted as he did.” Ashton stared. “A good—kind man —Ben Ezra?” he drawled.. “Yes,” said Judith, bravely. “Ever since I was a little girl, Mr Ben-Ezra has come here, and he ha,s always been more than kind to me. When I took sides with you, Lancelot, he felt my change of manner keenly. I said nothing to him, but he say by my coldness that I condemned hiim But he did not seek an explanation until I saw him in prison.” “Judith!” Lancelot looked quite startled. “You saw Ben-Ezra in prison?” “Yes. When he was waiting to bo brought before the Magistrate on account of the murder. He then asked me why I shrank from him. I explained, and he declared that you misjudged him, and„that, to prove that he had no ill will towards yon, he would place his life in your hands by asking you to be his counsel. And if you remember, Lancelot, I insisted you should accept.” “I remember,”, replied the young man, still looking wondering'y at her, “and you said that unless I proved BenEzra to be innocent you would not marry me.” Judith nodded. “You wondered why I raid that?” 5 . “At the time I wondered, and I wonder now. Also,” said Lancelot, with emphasis, “I worfder why Phineas should urge you to break faith with me and marry this wealthy young ass.” “I cannot understand that myself,” said Judith, looking at the Quaker. “Thou shalt know the reason now, child, since the time hath come for many things to be made plain. I urged thee because the Hebrew requested me to act. I would rather see thee wedded to friend Lancelot here, since thou dost love him. But Joab Ben-Ezra, for reasons which he will not explain, asked that I should pretend to coerce thee.” “Pretend!” Judith spoke scornfully. “Yes, child, and difficult.hath it been to me for my tongue to speak what my heart doth not approve of.” Ashton looked from one to the other, greatly puzzled. “What does it all mean?” he demanded, flushing. “Why should Bem-Ez'ra interfere between Judith and myself, and why should you, Phineas, do as he tells you ?” / i T “Ben-Ezra,” said the Quaker, sadly, “is more to Judith than I am.” -> :• “What? Your own daughter?” 1/ “I *m not Mr Verily’s daughter," said Judith, in . a low voice, and it sounded strange to hear her thus speak so stiffly and formally of the Quaker. “Impossible!” Lancelot started to his feet, thoroughly bewildered. “Nay, friend, it is true. Judith is neither kith nor kin, of mine l .” “Yes, Lancelot,” said the girl, talcing her lover’s hand gently, “and when I saw Ben-Ezra in prison, he told me that I owed this quiet home to him. For thfit reason I insisted that you should save his life.” “B'ut—but—but —” Ashton sank down again on the sofa,* and ran his hand through, his hair, looking from one to the other. “Oil, what does it all mean?” he burst out," anxiously. “Judith, has passed as your daughter ever since—” “Ever since she was a year old,” finished Verily; “that is true. But she was brought, to Ruth for her cherishing some eighteen years ago.” “Where from? Who are her parents?Why was she brought by the Jew? What did he bring her to you for? When—” ' ; ; ■ ’ Judith caught hie arm, as the quesrtions came hurrying from his lips. ‘/No one can answer you, except Mr BenEzra, and he refuses to speak.” “But he shall speak.” Ashton rose vigorously. “He must speak. I shall see him to-morrow, and force him to speak.” Verily- laughed quietly. “If thou const force .Joab Ben-Ezra to speak, he said pointedly, “then, friend Lancelot, thou wilt be a mighty man of cunning and strength.” “Has not Ben-Ezra explained to you?” Ashton asked Judith, sharply. “No,” she answered quiet’y; “he made fathe^— I must still call Mr Verily father—”''

“Surely,, child, surely,” said •. farmer, heartily ; ; ‘ ‘thou couldsfc. not ,be dearer to;. .Rutli‘ and me wert* thou indeed <jur own flesh and blood;” r. ‘ Judith gave him, a grateful, look, and again addressed her still bewildered lover. “Mr Ben-Ezra asked father to bring me to the prison. There he told • me that I was not Phineas Verily’s daughter,” ! . “And you believed him without, proof?” “I had every proof when I returned home,” said Judith, quickly; “I told my mother—that is, Ruth Verily—what Mr Ben-Ezra had said. She declared that he spoke the truth, and so did my father Phineas/’ “Thy foster-father,” murmured the Quaker, nodding in his great chair, “and my wife, Ruth is -thy foster-mo-ther.” ':•. Lancelot looked at the quiet figure, and turned again to Judith. “What did Ben-Ezra tell you?” he demanded abruptly. - “That he had known my parents, who were dear friends of his. But he refused to tell/ me the name, or anything about them, saying that the time, was not yet ripe to impart such knowledge. He said', that all would bo mad© clear when he had brought his plans to fruition—l use his own words.” “What plans?” “The same plans—whatever they may be —which made Joab, Ben-Ezra. urge me to turn the child's* heart towards the young man Dove,” interposed Verily- “ But I don’t understand—” “Nor do I, nor does Ruth, neither doth the child,” said Verily, wisely; “hut I am content to wait for the opening of the Hebrew’s mouth. He is wiser' than Solomon, the son of David. Else I should not have obeyed him against the dictates of my heart.” Ashton thought for a few moments, while the old man and the girl watched him anxiously. Then he lifted his head with the air of a man wilio lias made up his mind. “There is only one thing to be done,’ he said, with a firm look. “I shall see Ben-Ezra to-morrow and demand an explanation.” Verily nodded. it is just as well. But he will give thee just as much explanation as he desireth.” “That we shall see,” muttered Lancelot, wiiih a grim look; “but tell me) Phineas, how did Judith come to you?” “Eighteen years ago,” said the farmer, plunging into the middle of his story and without preamble, “Joab Ben-Ezra assisted me , with various loans, as my affairs were unsettled. Then I looked Upon- him merely as a decent money-lender, not knowing his worth. Ho brought the child one stormy/night, and she was then but .a year old. Telling us that she had lost her parents, he asked Ruth and myself tb cherish her as a daughter, saying that the name of the infant was Judith—” “Judith what?” asked Ashton, bending his brow's. “Simply Judith,” answered the farmer, “no more and no less. Ruth, being childless, looked upon the infant as a gift from the Lord, and willingly accepted the' charge, with my sanction. Thus the child hath grown up with us as our daughter, and hath been a light unto , our eyes. A good child who wijt make a good wife.” “But not to, Reginald Dove,” irilir- 1 mured Ashton, while Judith rose, and, crossing to her foster-father, kissed him tenderjy. “Nay, for I believe that the Hebrew would willingly see the child thy spouse, friend Lancelot.” “What, when he hates me? When he robbed me?” “He placed his life in thy hands," rebuked the farmer, caressing .Judith’s hand, “and set thy feet on the road to wealth and fame.” “Yes! yes!—it is true.” Ashton passed his band across his brow. “I cannot understand what it all means." “The Hebrew will explain as much as he wills,” said Verily, composedly ; “therefore, ‘wait thou until he speaketh. Judith brought good fortune to. our house, for, fifteen years ago, when I was ruined, he lifted rrie out of the ~mire and placed my feet upon a firm path. Truly, whatever the Philistines may say of the Jew he hath behaved unto me like a brother.” • “Oh!” Ashton ipaced the room in a state of pronounced agitation. “Can I not believe my own senses? BenEzra cheated -my grandfather and condemned me to poverty; he'has behaved cruelly to many, many people, and—” “Nay, friend Lancelot, ho hath but taken the Jew’s right of vengeance according to the law. Those who were cruel to him w'hen he canie, a wanderer to the village of Bruntlea, he hath laid low, ■ but those who were good to him—l speak of myself—hath, he not repaid forty-fold?” “Not my grandfather, I swear.” “That is true,” replied Verily, puckering his brows, “and I know not why the Hebrew should make an exception in that way. Still, by employing thee to defend him, no hath made amends.” “Yes! yes! I can’t understand,” Ashton bent his eyes on the ground; “why should lie have come to his enemy; as he knows me to be?” “Ah,” said Judith, gliding forward to take her .lover’s arm, .'“and why should that enemy have consented to •do a. good act-?” “I yielded because you asked me, Judith,” said the young man, frankly; “otherwise I should have seen Benin the nether pit before doing what he asked me to do. Not but that I don’t admire liis pluck in giving his life into the hands of an untried man like myself. And after all it was not my wits that got him off. Had not Miss Cashel! spotted that Daxley was the criminal he would have been hanged to a certainty. All) my eloquence—such as I have—would not have pre-

vailed. against the damning evidence agaTflst him... .He is a strange • man,” ended Ashton, .musingly,, .“and yet, on the face of it, look how He has acted towards me and mine/.’ “That is wbat makes me believe the more that Mr Ben-Ezra is a good man,” said Judith, with emphasis; "he evidently hides his good deeds under a cloak of outward iniquity. . Can you blame me, Lancelot,” she’added, clinging to him, “that I made his safety a condition of our marriage ? Think of what he has done for me. He found me a home, and good, kind people to look after me, and ever since I can remember he has always acted generously towards me in every way. Until you came to urge me to dislike him, I was almost as fond of him as I am' of Phineas and Ruth.” Judith spoke of her foster-parents in the .plain, unadorned, Quaker fashion. “But why did he act as he did toward the old General?” “I cannot tell thee,” said Verily, simply. “And why should he wish Judith to marry young Dove?” / “To pretend to wish to marry him,” said Verily, pointedly. “I cannot tell thee. But as Joab Ben-Ezra knoweth more of the. child than I do, he hath the greater right to shape, her future. Better, friend Lancelot, to ask none of .these questions until thou seest the Hebrew.” “I never thought to set foot within Ben-Ezra’s doors,” said the young man, angrily, “but for my own peace of mind it seems that I must. All I can say is that he is a riddle. If he has such a kind, good heart as you make out, Verily, why did he treat poor Daxley so?” “He obeyed the law of Moses and took an eye for an eye, friend Lancelot. I remember when Daxley was the foremost in hunting Ben-Ezra, nigh on thirty years ago, out of Bruntlea village. But he hath done good to the blood of In’s enemy.” “To the blood of bis enemy ?” “Father means to the flesh and blood of his enemy,” said Judith, lighting a candle which stood on the’ sideboard. “Come this way, Lancelot.” Considerably bewildered, the young man followed her out of the room. She led him along the narrow passage towards the staircase and mounted it slowly. In a few minutes Ashton found himself in a small room with a sloping roof. In the corner was a small her], and on the bed lay a small girl with golden hair and with a white .pinched face, to which not'even sleep could impart any color or look of youth. - “Mabel Daxley,” breathed Judith, shading the /candle. “Mr Ben-Ezra found that she was about to he sent to the workhouse, after the death of lier miserable father, and at once brought her to Phineas. He has promised to pay a yearly sum for her keep, and has arranged for her to stay here. Is this not the act of a Lancelot.” “Either of a good man, or of a ver* crafty one,”- muttered Ashton, gazmg at the sleeping girl. “Then the rumor was true?” “What rumor ” asked Judith, .'fading the way downstairs again, after i issing the poor, thin face of the rescued waif. ./‘That Ben-Ezra promised Daxley to provide for his child, 'f he took the burden pf guilt on hi® ! Uoul<b ens/’ “I don’t believe that/’ cried Jirirh, vehemently, and setting down the "audio on a hall bracket.- “How-could Air Ben-Ezra make stlch an. arrangement when he was in prison all the time and never saw Daxley?” “True! true!” Ashton nodded approvingly. Curiously enough, he was now beginning to be anxious that the Jew’s character should be cleared. “Weill” ho put on his overcoat, “I shall see Ben-Ezra to-morrow and learn, if I can, the meaning of all these mysteries. But Sir Reginald—” “You silly boy, I love you and you only,” laughed Judith, so what could he do but kiss her fairly on her tender lips. _ (To bo < r ’-ontinued.)