Wife or Slave?

Front matter

WIFE OR SLAVE? A tt WIFE OR SLAVE ? BY Mrs. ALBERT S. BRADSHA.W, AUTHOR OF Crimson Stain," " A Noble Vengeance, " " The Queen's Dti'ence, ' The Young Roman," " Condemned," " Damian's Wife," &c. LONDON : HENRY and COMPANY, 6, BOUVERIE STREET, E.C. The Author ha* Dedicated the present work (by kind permission) to Her Grace the Duchess of Rutland, Who, by her efforts, Literary and Philanthropic, has done so much to further the interests and improve the surroundings of those less fortunately circumstanced than their noble benefactress. INDEX. Chapter. p„,Je I. At the Village School i II. The St. Kestor Inheritance ... 14 III. Do you Believe in Destiny... ... 19 IV. Narrative by Hugh Penwood ... 28 V. Conjugal Felicity ... ... ... 43 VI. Hugh Penwood's Narrative Continued ... ... ... ... 48 VII.

Sir Peter Fairbairn, Knight ... 64 VIII. The Apple of Discord ... ... 72 IX. A Dangerous Guest... ... ... 81 X. A Simple Funeral ... ... ... 88 XI. Hugh Penwood makes his First Experiment in Thought Read ing 95 XII. Driven into Exile ... ... ... 106 XIII. A Mother Steals her Own Child ... 121 XIV. Cruelty and Treachery ... ... 127 XV. A Terrible Discovery ... ... 137 XVI. Further Conspiracies ... ... 145 XVII. Lady St. Kestor Discovers Sir Peter's Family Skeleton ... 150 XVIII. Sir Hardress is Brutally Candid ... 162 XIX. Let me be Your Friend ... ... INDEX Chapter. Page. XX. Mathilde Offers Her Suggestion ... 180 XXI. I Don't Want Your Love 186 XXII. Hester Barnforth Plays Her Part ... 200 XXIII. Mary Haldane's Make-up 215 XXIV. Hester Barnforth Overhears a Conversation ... ... ... 234 XXV.

A Threatened Storm 240 XXVI. The Storm Bursts ... ... ... 250 XXVII. Hugh Penwood's Second Experiment ... ... ... ... 255 XXVIII. Master Dick 265 XXIX. Mons. Pierre's Romance ... ... 279 XXX. Ashley Dallas Pleads His Suit ... 294 XXXI. Sir Peter's Family Skeleton ... 300 XXXII. Hugh Penwood's Narrative Concluded ... ... ... ... 309 XXXIII. So Soon ... ... ... ... oje XXXIV. Wedding Bells 3ig XXXV. Nil Desperandum ... ... ... Mrs. Albert S. Bradshaiv's Press Notices "A CRIMSON STAIN." A vigorous tale of Spain in olden times. — Daily Chronicle. Readers who desire exciting literature with plenty of mystery, will find that this stoi y more than fulfils their expectations. —Public Opinion. The tale is graphically told ! — Bookseller. An extremely well-written story of a type likely to find favour with the public.

Chapter I

- AT THE VILLAGE SCHOOL. fpT was the month of August in the year 18 — I The heat had been more than usually intense, and the long Devonshire lanes seemed at one and the same time to scorch the feet of the pedestrian, and almost to blind him with their dazzling whiteness. But the occupants of a hand some barouche, which came bowling along between the hedges abounding with great clusters of large tempting blackberries, failed to discover such little discomforts, as they lounged luxuriously back upon the cushions beneath shady umbrellas and fanciful sunshades. To them the drowsy hum of insect life was but a fitting accompaniment to their own pleasurable idleness. The sky overhead wis one broad expanse of unsullied blue. Not a leaf stirred, and not even a bird could be seen on the wing. All nature seemed to be under the spell of some soporific influence.

B ? 2 A sudden turn in the lane revealed the upper portion of the village of St. Kestor, which consisted of about half-a-dozen low-roofed thatched cottages, almost buried amongst the luxuriant fuchsia trees, which in most cases overtopped the houses. Before each cottage was the proverbial little square of cottage] garden, in which mingled indiscriminately the useful with the ornamental. There were rows of peas, and scarlet-runners interspersed with strag gling sunflowers, lupins, and foxgloves. There were flourishing beds of mint and herbs to delight the hearts of housekeepers, and side by side were golden marigolds and purple heartsease in company with bright-eyed daises and modest lilies of the valley. A little further on, and the old weather-beaten church came into view, or as much of it as could be seen from amongst the forest of trees which surrounded it.

It had stood for upwards of a century, and pre sented various signs of decay, the result of funds not being forthcoming at such times as it had suffered from the violence of the weather. There were crevices in the exterior that had been filled up with the parish mortar, which should have been town cement, and there were crevices in the interior, through which the damp had made its way, and left its mark in varied streaks and discolorations. One by one the pinnacles had been blown from their proud positions on the square grey-stone tower, until it was left desolate of ornament ; and now the tower itself had given several warnings that it also sought to rejoin its severed members in the crumbling ? 3 dust, for it had been pillared and bolstered up on its several sides during the last few years, and now stood maimed, patched, and frowning upon the rustic wor shippers as though longer begrudging them its shelter.

A long gravel path led up to the west door, which was the principal entrance, though there was another door at the north end, which was rarely used. The ground, or rather the churchyard, was somewhat extensive, and pretty well covered with tombstones of various sorts and sizes. At the back of the church the ground rose to a considerable height, and gradually sloped downwards until the extreme front portion reached the level of the road. A low wall enclosed it from the high road without shutting any part of it from view. On the opposite side, and standing back some distance from the road, nestled the parsonage house, which was also built of gray-stone, with gabled roof and dull red tiles. A broad, smoothly cut lawn extended the full length of the house in the front, and was only separated from the road by low iron railings.

A small iron gate led to a side path to the front entrance, and on the left side a thick shrubbery formed a boundary between the rector's garden, and the St. Kestor plantation, which just skirted the park in which was situated the residence of Sir Hardress St. Kestor. At a second turn in the lane, about a hundred yards beyond the rector's kitchen garden, was the lodge belonging to the Hall, but the house itself was not visible until you came close upon it, so winding B ? 4 was the path, so thickly grew the trees, and so in terminably long seemed the carriage drive by which it was approached. A short cut on the other side of the park was the one more generally used, as it led straight into the village. The first house in the village street was occupied by the doctor. It was built of red brick, and came right up to the road.

Beyond the doctor's house were the post-office and general drapery stores, the grocer's and the black smith's shop and forge, and a few more cottages rather more pretensions than those on the outskirts ; and the end of the street was marked by the village school and school-house. The door of the shool house stood open, and the window panes were swung back to the fullest extent. From the open windows on the one side, which was the girls' portion of the house, the voices of the children were borne on the sultry summer air as they chanted a verse of poetry in the way peculiar to that form of village education ; while from the other half, which was the portion set apart for the boys, the droning voices of the youthful rustics rose and fell as they mechanically repeated in sing-song cadence the orthodox multiplication table.

The barouche came to a sudden halt at the school house, and the smart footman jumped from his seat on the box, let down the steps, and held open the door for the occupants to alight. The first to descend was a tall, finely-built young Hercules, clad in a light tweed suit, who offered his hand to assist a lady who had risen to follow him. As she stood beside him, she leaned over to speak to some one in ? 5 the carriage, but the someone was so buried beneath a large umbrella that it was impossible to obtain a view of him, and it was with difficulty the querulous tones could be understood. A swift expression of sadness crept over the lady's face as she turned and took the proffered arm which her companion held out for her, and in silence they proceeded up the half-dozen steps and entered the school-house.

Turning into the room on the right, which was the one occupied by the girls, the lady advanced towards the upper end and met the mistress, who had vacated her post immediately upon their entrance. The gentleman soon ingratiated himself among the white pinafored, rosy-cheeked youngsters, by an in discriminate distribution of pence, which he varied by mischievous pulls at some tempting lock of hair, or by pinching some plump little cheek between his aristocratic fingers, accompanying the action with a comic grimace of simulated terror of the mistress discovering his pranks. Of course he soon brought the whole school into a state of anarchy and con fusion. The multiplication table thereupon suddenly ceased in the next room. Wonder and curiosity were evoked by the strange sounds, in the breasts of both pupils and master, and they, too, left their benches and rushed to the door to stare open mouthed at the vision of the great lady from St. Kestor, who stood in deep converse with the teacher of St. Kestor's day-school.

Then a burst of merriment issued from the lips of the group of urchins assembled at the door, as they, too, caught sight of ? 6 the droll antics of the young gentleman. But they were sharply pulled up in their merriment by the master's voice. " Now then, boys, back into your places instantly." He had forgotten himself momentarily when he allowed his curiosity to draw him from his duties, and even as he returned to his vacated desk, he had not thoroughly regained his wonted command over the youngsters committed to his charge. With an effort he resumed the lesson. He turned his back upon the rows of children seated before him, and chalked some figures upon the blackboard, but with each figure he felt as if he were tracing the linea ments of the stranger's face, and wondered what was the business which had brought Lady St. Kestor to take counsel with the schoolmistress.

As he turned to harangue his pupils, his eyes again fell upon the stranger who stood just within the doorway. Curiosity had brought him this time to the boy's schoolroom. A curiosity to again look upon the schoolmaster's face, of which he had caught a glimpse as he towered above the heads of his pupils, and which had been sufficient to arouse a vague sort of interest which he did not attempt to define even in his own mind. The tutor was above the usual height, even for a man, and correspondingly thin. His head was massive, with a projecting forehead, and large dark eyes, deeply set. The nose was purely aquiline, and the chin oval and smooth as a woman's. From his high, broad forehead his thick black hair was swept ? 7 back in a luxuriant mass, revealing the contrast of his fair, delicate skin.

His hands were small and white, with the blue veins plainly visible. He had a nervous habit of constantly keeping his hands employed. He would either fidget restlessly with a steel watch-chain which depended from his waist coat, or he would toy with a penknife, as though he found relief in some way by constantly opening and shutting first one blade and then the other. His clothes, too, had a habit of hanging loosely upon him, which tended to give him a somewhat slovenly appearance. Though really possessing all the attributes of a gentleman and a scholar, both in form and feature, there was a peculiar shrinking in his manner, a nervous diffidence in his expression, which was apt to give to strangers the erroneous impression of sullenness. Despite his fragile build there was a certain rugged grandeur about Hugh Penwood which invariably commanded respect and even obedience, and there was also a winning gentleness, which won for him the love and confidence of the little ones with whom he was brought into contact.

A greater contrast could scarcely have been imagined than that presented by the two men, the one shy and sensitive almost to an absurd degree, the other characterised by a straightforward blunt ness of manner which, had it not been blended with an equal amount of soft-heartedness and ingenuous simplicity, would have frequently rendered him some what obnoxious. He was a good-looking fellow, which, as far as the ladies were concerned, was very ? 8 much in his favour. They admired the fine propor tions of his stalwart figure, and raved over his tawny hair and waxed moustache, suiting to perfection the warm-coloured tint of his skin, which exposure to the sun had slightly bronzed. And as for eyes — in which shone the depths of heaven's own blue, and were capable of looking things unutterable — well, there were those in plenty who were of an envious or disagreeable turn of mind who were ready to take every opportunity of testifying to the amount of havoc they had worked in various blighted hearts ; and there were many more by far who sang his praises, enjoyed his society, laughed at his drollery, and were content to be put off and overlooked whenever his royal fancy led him elsewhere.

The tutor administered a second rebuke to his refractory pupils, laid his chalk inside his desk, and went down the room to speak to the stranger who was the cause of all the mischief. As he advanced he fidgetted uneasily with his chain, and a nervous flush rose to his face. " The boys are so unaccustomed to strangers, sir," he said, in low, hurried tones, " that you must excuse their ," and he glanced across at them as though unable to finish the sentence. " Oh, pray don't offer any excuse for the young sters, Mr. — — ." " Penwood," supplemented the schoolmaster, with a slight bow. " Mr. Penwood," he continued, " It is I who should apologise for disturbing you. What a mischievous ? 9 set of young urchins they look to be sure. By Jove ! Mr. Penwood, if I were in your place, I should always be up to some pranks or other with them.

I should want to teach them fencing and boxing, set them scrambling for pence or fighting over candy." The schoolmaster ventured to cast an admiring look at the young man who was invested with so much light-heartedness and good humour, but the admiration was mixed with a good deal of wonder and surmise, and he answered with a slow shake of the head and a half-amused smile — " Ah, sir, if you had been pegging away at it as many years as I have, you would have become used to the monotony and the drudgery, and forgotten the frolicsomeness of youth." " Why you talk as if you were an old man rather than a young one who has scarcely reached the prime of life," exclaimed the stranger in astonishment, looking at the schoolmaster from head to foot, who coloured, and shifted his eyes uneasily under the scrutiny.

" I see what it is," he continued, " you are mewed up in these stuffy rooms all day, and one has only to look at you to see that you are one of those fellows who is for ever studying and taxing his brain to the utmost stretch, never thinking of recreation or relaxation of any kind. Now, what do you say to a day's fishing, just to clear the cobwebs from your brain ? It's Saturday to-morrow, so I'll call for you or meet you anywhere. We'll say at ten o'clock, and have a good long day of it. You'll come, there's a good fellow ! I knew you would. Oh, here comes ? 10 her ladyship so I must be on duty again ; and here's my card," he said, thrusting it into the schoolmaster's hand, as he rushed off to join Lady St. Kestor, who was waiting for him in the porch. " Shall we walk on and meet the carriage ?

" he asked her as they left the school-house. Lady St. Kestor nodded assent, and they pursued the direction which the carriage had taken. " You seem to have found a friend, Ashley," she said, " while I was transacting my little bit of business." " Yes, cousin Laura," he replied, " Penwood seems a very decent sort of fellow. I have invited him to have a day's fishing with me to-morrow. He looks as if he didn't get half enough fresh air." Lady St. Kestor gravely shook her head, " You are so impulsive, Ashley. I don't know what Hardress will say to your striking up a friendship with Mr. Penwood, of whom you cannot possibly know anything ; I am afraid he will not approve of it." " Oh, you think your august husband won't approve of my friendship for Mr. Penwood, do you ? " said Ashley, suddenly halting and looking down upon his companion from his own lofty height, as they both came to a standstill in the middle of the path.

" Well, then, my dear, all that I can say is, that if he don't like it, I'm very much afraid he'll have to lu-ump it ! Oh, now, cousin, I have offended you. I know I have ; but really, how else can a fellow express himself under such circumstances ? Here, have a piece of toffy ? " and he fumbled in his ? 11 pockets until he drew forth a quaintly-carved wooden box containing little strips of barley-sugar, a com estible with which he was in the habit of regaling himself, and which he looked upon as the panacea for all ills. How anyone could possibly refuse so tempting a luxury he was utterly at a loss to imagine ! it was his friend and consoler at all times and seasons ; it served him now in the hour of his need. With the open box held towards his cousin he im portuned her forgiveness, and acceptance of his peace offering in one and the same breath.

With her dainty fingers Lady St. Kestor abstracted one of the yellow golden bars, and conveyed it to her mouth, with a half-laughing protest on her lips. " I must keep you company to be gallant," he said, with one of his comical grimaces ; " sweets to the sweet, my dear cousin," and he popped a piece of his favourite barley-sugar into his somewhat capacious mouth, and Richard was himself again. A little speck became visible in the distance, followed immediately by a cloud of dust. It was the carriage returning. As Lady St. Kestor noted its approach she laid a hurried, trembling hand upon Ashley's arm, and there was a suddeen tremor in her voice when she addressed him. "Ashley, what will you think of me if I tell you that, perhaps more for my own sake than even that of my husband, I don't wish you to cultivate an intimacy with Mr. Penwood ?

No, don't misunder stand me," she continued, her tone growing momentarily more agitated, " it is no class distinction ? 12 that moves me to speak thus, for who was I but the daughter of a country clergyman, whose ambition never soared beyond the spire of his own church, or led him beyond his parsonage grounds ? No, it is not on that score that I object to Mr. Penwood ; but there is a subtle instinct, a vague something which warns me to shun him. In vain do 1 try to crush it, to stifle it, but it is stronger than I am. It may be that fate will be even stronger still, and that in the future — my future — Hugh Penwood will yet play the part to which I feel he is destined, but which is yet a mystery. I know nothing of him, have not exchanged a dozen words with him in my life. I know not whether he be false as base metal or true as steel.

But I know this, that there is a strange inexplicable something between him and me, which at one moment rises like a wall of snow or ice between us, and the next moment melts away before the fires of a dangerous fascination, which, like a vibrating chord or an electric thrill flashes, wordless and untongued, from one soul to another — from his to mine ! " " By Jove, Laura, you put it hot and strong, there's no mistake ! " said Ashley, swinging his cane nervously backwards and forwards as he spoke ; but there was far more gravity expressed on his face than be allowed to be manifest in his reply. " You have been out of sorts lately Laura, and your nerves are unstrung. How on earth could a fellow like Hugh Penwood, holding, too, such a different position in life from you, ever be associated with you in any way ? 13 whatever ?

Why, the greatest luck that is ever likely to befall him would be that which would offer him a better appointment, a higher salary, and remove him at the same time miles away from sleepy St. Kestor and yourseff." " I may be out of sorts and unstrung, but these are no vagaries of which I speak. I have trusted you, Ashley, will you help me by keeping him away from me ? and — if you can get him away from St. Kestor, why, then, you will help me still more." At her last words, Ashley could not refrain from looking round upon her with a little start of surprise. How very firmly must the idea have gained a hold upon her to cause her to treat it so seriously, and an uneasy suspicion began to enter his mind as to whether the many troubles and worries which he guessed were her portion, had at last conspired to turn her brain.

He had only time to whisper to her under his breath, " you can trust me cousin Laura," as the carriage drew up to the high road for them to again take their places. " Excuse me, I shall take a stroll across the fields before dinner," he said, and closed the door of the carriage. He wanted to think over the very strange communication which his cousin had made to him. " I never could see more than half-a-dozen yards ahead," he muttered to himself, as he left the road, and vaulted over a style into a field, " and, confound me, if I can make head or tail either out of this business."

Chapter II. The St

KESTOR INHERITANCE. Laura, Lady St. Kestor, had stated she was cftMg before her marriage but the daughter of the lR\? village clergyman, who, with her younger and only sister still inhabited the gray stone parson age house, the grounds of which were only separated from those of the Hall by a thick shrubbery. But it was not to become mistress of the Hall that she left the parsonage. When she solemnised her marriage vow with Hardress Carew the probability that he would ever inherit the St. Kestor title and estates was one of those vague contingencies, which do sometimes, but very rarely, occur. In this case it had occurred. Five years before, Hardress Carew had been on a visit to his uncle, then baronet, who was at that time the owner of St. Kestor, Hardress himself holding a captaincy in an Irish regiment and possessing only a moderate income of five hundred a year, beside his pay.

The baronet had two sons, both of whom preceded their cousin as to right of inheritance, so that setting aside his uncle altogether two distinct lives still ? 15 separated Hardress from succession. And, to render the chance still more remote, should either of his cousins leave sons they in their turn would become the rightful heirs, to his exclusion. At that time, however, the baronet was hale and strong, and was, indeed, only just bordering on his sixtieth year, and the elder cousin had about the same time attained his majority. Between him and the younger brother there was a disparity of four years, a little daughter having been born in the interim, but who had passed away in infancy. There was every reason for supposing that his uncle would live many years to maintain his own, and there was still more reason to suppose that one, if not both of his cousins would in their turn seek a wife, and, as a natural consequence, bequeath a direct line of descendants to the title and estate.

Such was the relation in which Hardress Carew stood with regard to his future inheritance when he wooed and won Laura Haldane for his wife ; when he led her to believe in his honour as a gentleman, in his noble ambition, which was but paltry pride, and in his self-sacrificing efforts for the world at large, which he made a stepping-stone towards raising the pedestal for his own glorification. It is only charitable to give him the benefit of sup posing that he believed in some degree in himself, and that he was really not aware of the full extent of his own hypocrisy. Though he would accompany his fiancee to her father's church on Sunday, kneel reverently by her side and devoutly murmur the ? responses, liberally and out of the fulness of his heart drop a golden piece on to the offertory plate as it was passed from pew to pew, as with the rest of the con gregation he repeated " Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon the earth, where the rust and moth doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal," yet it never occurred to him that he had but been acting a part ; even when, freed from the restraint which had surrounded him, he would hasten to shake off the cloak which he had been wearing and give vent to his hitherto only suppressed irritability in a tirade against the "cursed old parson," as was his customary mode of designation.

Could the gentle, silver-haired old man have seen him in one of his tyrannical moods, or the outbursts of almost un governable fury which sometimes possessed him, he would have trembled at the prospect of his treasure ever being placed in such keeping. But, so far, Hardress had been quite sincere con cerning his attachment for Laura Haldane. He admired her truly, and not merely for her personal appearance, though that had first claimed his attention, for she was very fair and sweet to look upon. Though neither tall, nor particularly slender, she had a certain grace of movement and repose of manner which never failed to please. Her complexion had that healthy fairness induced by simple living and the baths of early morning dew which the Gods prescribe. Her eyes were of a deep unchanging blue, a frank trustfulness seemingly reflected in their depths ; they were indeed the true index to her nature, and in their ? 17 mute language spoke volumes to those who had sufficient perception to grasp their testimony.

Hardress Carew soon observed that she possessed all those finer qualities which are supposed to be the necessary adjuncts for the making of a true lady, while at the same time she was in a certain measure ignorant of the usages and rules of city society, inas much as she had never been thrown amongst it, having lived an almost secluded life with her father ever since the death of her mother, which had occurred while she was still in the schoolroom. " I will go in and win," Hardress had mentally reflected, after renewing his acquaintance with her while on a visit to his uncle, the baronet. " She is a little Puritan, but so much the better. I can mould her the more easily to my own liking, and make of her what I will." His keen intelligence had not enabled him to grasp the entire depths of the nature of the woman whom he thought he had so easily fathomed.

So tenderly did he plead his suit, and with such finesse and old world chivalry did he conduct his wooing, that a heart less guileless by far than Laura's might have fallen even a readier prey to the honeyed machinations of so ardent a lover. Upon the announcement of his engagement, followed by his speedy marriage, relatives and acquaint ances were all unanimous in declaring it to be the first time that he had ever allowed his heart to get the better of his head, for everyone supposed that so ambitious and so calculating a man as he was always c ? considered to be, would have sought, if not a wealthy bride, at least a titled one. That Hardress Carew could have married for love, purely and solely, was beyond the comprehension of any of those who were in any degree intimate with him. Perhaps after all he was not so sanguine himself as to his chances of securing a wife possessing the attributes which his friends deemed he would require in making a selection.