Lord Vanecourt's Daughter

Front matter

LORD VANECOURT'S DAUGHTER. BY MABEL COLLINS. VOL. III. LONDON: WARD & DOWNEY, YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN. ipcrib: S. COWAN AND CO., KTRATHMORE PRINTING WORKS. CONTENTS. CHAPTER PAGE I. DESPAIR ......'. 1 II. LOVE OR MONET . . . . .10 III. IS IT A CONSPIRACY? 24 IV. TO THE RESCUE ...... 37 V. "A DEAD MAN'S WALKED INTO THE HOUSE." 53 VI. FOUND !....... 64 VII. THE WEDDING-DRESS ..... 75 VIH. THE ELOPEMENT ...... 89 IX. A GAY BREAKFAST 100 X. A STRANGE CONVERSATION . . . .111 XI. BEADY FOR FLIGHT . . . . .120 XII. "I WILL NOT GIVE UP THE DIAMONDS!" . 131 XIII. "YOU WERE MY MOTHER'S FRIEND." . .140 xiv. "he has been murdered!" . . .152 XV. ONE AN ACCEPTED, ONE A HOPELESS, LOVER . 162 XVI. AN UNEXPECTED MEETING . . . .175 XVII. "good-bye!" ..:... 186 XVIII. A JEWEL WORSHIPPER ! . . . . 196 xix. in Leonard's studio ..... 204 XX. A FLOWER AMONG THE FLOWERS . . .

Chapter I. Despair

" Martin," said Agatha, moving her place in the carriage so as to come directly opposite him; "will you answer me one question? You used to be an honest servant. I speak to you now as I should have spoken to you then. Are you taking me to a mad-house ? " " No, miss, I am not," answered Martin, in a manner that showed he was speaking the truth. Agatha drew a deep breath of relief. ' ' Thank God," she said to herself. The fear of that had half paralyzed her. She was silent for a moment. She was looking earnestly at Martin. Certainly it was VOL. III. A a coarse face ; certainly it had altered much for the worse since she had known him. Still site failed to understand his utter treachery. " Do you remember," she said suddenly, "that morning in the Dene? Can you have forgotten that awful moment when we heard my grandmother's cry for help ?

When we heard Lord Vanecourt's answer? When we saw her death ? No — you have not forgotten it — I can see that. You stood by me at the bottom of the Dene when we had reached her dead body, and you watched me. I hardly noticed it then, but I remembered it after wards. You watched me and you waited for every word I spoke before you said anything yourself. Why was that ? " " I would gladly have served you, miss, if you had given me the chance." "That was not all. What did you say to ine afterwards, when you came into the study where I was sitting beside her dead body — " Martin suddenly put up his hand, and pulled the check-string ; the carriage stopped. " Mrs. Birchmore," he said, " there's room on the box for you to sit between the men for Despair. 3 a half-hour or so ; I'll tell them to make you comfortable."

" Shall I go, miss? " asked Mrs. Birchmore hesitating'. i_j " Yes, please do, for a little while," said Agatha. Mrs. Birchmore got out and climbed up to the box. When Martin got in and shut the door again he turned to Agatha a face which was completely changed. Before, it had worn the half-insolent, half-servile expression which is the habitual mask of the serving-man. Now it Avas morose, savage ; it was human, in telligible. " I asked you," he said, " if you were going to take any steps. I was prepared to back you up to the utmost. You said no ; because he was your father. I asked you if he was to go unpunished. It made me mad to think of it ; it does now. Sometimes I feel I could go and throttle him in his sleep, I hate him so!" His hands worked, where they lay on his knees, as he spoke.

Agatha watched them and drew back a little. " I would have helped you bring him to justice. You would not do it — you let him go unpunished — I was powerless alone." " You need not have taken his money — you need not have helped him take mine ! " " I could not help it," said Martin angrily. " He had got ahead of me. He'd got Ann to agree to his plan before ever I heard of it; and I couldn't move her ; she was like a rock. That's what I hate him so for! " "And why? " asked Agatha, surprised into forgetting her own purpose for a moment. "Because I've had to follow her like ■ a slave, and watch her like a detective ever since. She's been mad with vanity and pleasure ? " " And what is that to you? " said Agatha, still bewildered. " I mean to marry her," said Martin with a dogged, suppressed passion, the force of which Agatha could not measure, it was all so new to her.

" Whether she will or no, I mean to; for she promised herself to me that very day of Mrs. Dering's death. But she's wild and headstrong ; and she dines and dances with gentlemen every night. It makes me mad 1 " Despair. 5 " Why not take her out of all that ? " said Agatha, quickly seeing, as she thought, an opportunity. " It will be done in a moment, if you will work with me. And I promise you, Martin, that when I have my fortune back, half of it will be yours — more, if you choose ! And there will be no difficulty — I. have only to go down to Ilverton, and the people there will recognize me at once." Martin gave her a glance which chilled her; a quick, covert, cunning glance. "No, miss," he said stolidly, "it ain't so easy to go back. Ann and me, we're deep in it now. We don't want to have to run from the police."

" What will you do then?" said Agatha; " you will never marry her while she is supposed to be Lord Vanecourt's daughter." " I don't know that, miss. A nobleman's daughter has run away with her groom before now." " She will not do that," said Agatha confi dently. Her mind went back to the scene in Lord Vanecourt's drawing-room, when Leonard Dering entered the room. She never doubted, from the moment she saw the look Ann fixed on him, that the girl was determined to marry him. She guessed that Ann was simply keeping .Martin in good humour by promises and pre tences, because his allegiance was of such vital importance to herself and Lord Vanecourt. She controlled herself with a violent effort ; she wanted to speak of a subject which was very repugnant to her. " You surely know," she said quietly, " that she is engaged to Mr. Dering."

Martin uttered a sound, inarticulate and savage ; but he said nothing. He started violently, but held himself in check. " And if she remains in her present position she will marry him ; the wedding will take place soon." "It will never take place!" exclaimed Martin, " or if it does, I will kill him." " Better prevent it quietly by letting me escape." ?> " No, miss ; you might think to let us oif for the sake of old times ; but I suppose you would go to Mr. Whitehead. Well, he's sharp as a needle; he's suspected me of something, though I Despair. 7 can't make out what, for this long time past. We should be lost the moment he was satisfied there was something wrong. I don't believe we should have time to get out of the country, even if Ann would go. No, miss, the game's too dangerous ; Ann and me must keep by Lord Vanecourt till he falls."

" Till he falls ? — what do you mean by that ? " " Well, miss — till he's spent all your money." " Spent all my money ! " exclaimed Agatha in amazement, "but that's impossible; the fortune is enormous." " A man can make away with anything that gambles as his lordship does." Agatha was silent a while. This was a new aspect of things. It was no great bribe to offer Martin the half of a fortune which was being melted in the hands of a gambler like hoar-frost by the morning sun. Her heart went back to her grandmother, with a dumb cry for forgiveness. How had she fulfilled the trust reposed in her ! For the first time she reproached herself with her conduct towrarcls her father. For the first time she wished she had taken the opportunity while Martin was willing to bear witness, and had accused Lord Vanecourt openly of the murder.

The ground appeared to be cut away from under her feet ; she knew not which way to turn. " Martin," she exclaimed suddenly, " are you not ashamed of the position you are in — are you not ashamed of what you are doing iioav r His face changed a little at the tone of her voice. It thrilled and roused him for an instant. But the impression passed away as quickly as it came. '' I'm no worse than my betters," he said at last. Agatha leaned back in the carriage, and fell into profound thought. It seemed to her that she had exhausted every mode of attack. Her last hope was gone from her. She had asked him at the cottage to send a message for her to Lord Vanecourt. But it was merely an excuse to gain time ; she could devise nothing which would make any impres- Despair. 9 sion on her father. His position, while she was in safe custody, was perfectly secure.

Her conversation with Martin had shown her that there was one mode of exciting and impressing him — through his jealousy. But at present she saw no way of doing this. Now that all communication was cut off with Mr. Meredith, she could not even pretend to have heard any news of Leonard Dering or his marriage. She looked from the window. They were driving through a country which was quite strange to her. She had no idea where she was or in what direction she was travelling.

Chapter II. Love Or Money

Colonel Atman was walking up and down his room,. smoking, when Leonard went in, the next evening. " I am glad you have come," he said. "I have been hard at work all day ; and now I want to hear something new. Tell me about yourself since I saw you last ; tell me the story of that beautiful girl ; I am sure she has one. It is written on her face." "Yes, she has a story! " said Leonard. '' Sit down, then, and tell it me." " I will tell you all I knowr. I wish I knew it all ! " said Leonard, sitting down. Colonel Atman went on walking up and down the room, now and again pausing a moment by Leonard and looking earnestly at him, Love or Honey. 11 "Who is she? "he asked. "That is what I cannot tell you," answered Leonard. " Nor even her right name ! Bitt I will tell what I can. " I obtained my furlough sooner than had been arranged ; I was very anxious to get home.

You had shown me that unless I es caped from the surroundings that were about me, I was lost. I knew no way to escape but by coming home. I had no friends in India who could help me ; you had gone to Thibet. I determined to come home, and if by any means I could obtain the money to pay my debts, to sell out and settle in England. I knew of no means by which this money could be obtained except by going to an aunt of mine, a Mrs. Dering, who was very rich. She had helped me before ; I knew I was a favourite of hers. If I could bring myself to tell her the Avhole story and show her the position I was in, I believed she would help me again. I came home without waiting to tell her of it ; I thought I would surprise her, and perhaps judge from her Avelcome whether her affection for me was as great as of old.

I came straight to London, and went on to her place in the North of England. I travelled at niffht, and when I got to the nearest station at which my train stopped I found it was impossible to get anything to drive in. So I left my baseaee at the station and decided to walk on. It was dawn; and I knew the walk was a lovely one. On the way I came to a bridge across a narrow stream ; on that bridge sat a girl, dressed in a print gown, with a shawl and bonnet such as a country girl might wear ; on her arm was a market basket. She was asleep. That was the girl you saw yesterday. She woke up and I spoke to her; she told me she was going to Durham to sell butter. I wanted to carry her basket — I would have done any thing to go a little way with her. But she left me, and I had to walk on, thinking of that lovely face.

I thought of little else all through that walk. When I arrived at my aunt's house, new things forced it out of my mind. I found my aunt, my poor old friend, lying dead. "Her granddaughter, who had always lived with her, was her heiress. Miss Vale's mother has long been dead, but her father was there, Lord Vanecourt. " About those two people, Miss Vale and her father, I received the most vivid impressions. From the moment I touched Lord Vanecourt's hand I knew he was a murderer and an unscrup ulous scoundrel. I was convinced that he had killed my aunt, that the accident by which she was supposed to have met her death was no accident, and that he had done it for her money. She made him an allowance ' to keep him from starvation,' as I have heard her say. By her death he became literally the master of an enor mous fortune.

His daughter was a mere tool in his hands, a tool he could do what he would with. "And yet, though that girl was quiet, sub dued, a mere nonentity, I took a strong dis like to her. I could not resist a conviction that she was as false as her father. Yet she was not like him. " Of course my conviction that murder had been done, could be of no weight with any one but myself. I could do nothing. I followed my aunt to her grave ; and then left the place as Boon as possible. I could not endure to be under the same roof with Lord Vanecourt. I came to London and took rooms. I found it very difficult to struggle against the gloom wliich this horrible affiiir cast on me. But I endeavoured to shake it off, and looked up some of my friends and connections. I soon found myself in a pleasant set , but, as a mat ter of course, under these circumstances my difficulties increased, instead of growing any less.

I knew no one from whom to borrow money; and I had no expectations of any kind on which to borrow. I assure you things began to look very bad indeed; worse than ever." " To put it plainly," said Colonel Atman ; "you got in with a set of fast fellows and could not resist then' influence." Leonard said nothing for a moment. Then he went on : "At all events I began to see that I must either sell Red Mount and go off to the Col onies or else obtain money in some way or other. No way was open. My mind was pretty well made up to sell lied Mount ; in fact, there was no alternative. It went hard with me, for I had promised my father I would never part with that place. He clung to it, as Byron clung to Newstead. At this point a thing happened which puzzled me at the time. Lord Vanecourt was in town ; he wrote and asked me to dinner.

This puzzled me because I had taken no pains to conceal my dislike for him, and I thought he returned the feeling with interest. It occurred to me as probable that he might wish to be on good terms with his victim's family. Well, I went ; why I I hardly know. I had not consciously fallen so low as to think of .borrowing from this scoundrel ; but perhaps it was in my mind. The first evening I spent there showed me that the invitation had really come not from Lord Vanecourt, but his daughter. During her brief emancipation from a country village life she had blossomed out in a most extraordinary way. She was an accomplished flirt of a coarse type. She had already a following of men, of the sort that hang about such a girl. She flirted with them all. But she did not flirt with me. I am not a vain man ; you know me too well too think of it.

But I knew, before that first evening was over, that this girl loved me as well as she could love any man. Her eyes, her voice, her manner told it. She was to be had for the asking." " And the road to fortune lay pretty clear before you." said the Colonel, drily. " I suppose you took it? " Leonard looked up quickly, but the Colonel was refilling his pipe, and had turned his back to him ; he could not see his face. There was a silence of some minutes. "Well," said the Colonel, facing round, '' you took it. Are you married yet? " "No, not married," answered Leonard slowly ; " the wedding day is fixed." " How soon ? " " In ten days." " Well, what's the trouble? Isn't it all right — isn't it just what you wanted ? " Leonard made no direct answer to this. He understood the tone and manner perfectly.

" I have been down to stay with a friend of mine, a clergyman in Hampshire. I used to sing in his choir long ago when I stayed with him ; he is music-mad. He told me when I went down there this time that he had found an angel who sang in his choir. He introduced me to her at the church-porch as Miss Ricknian. I had met her before on my walk to Dene House ; you saw her yesterday. She came to lunch at the vicarage; I sat opposite her at the lunch-table ; we sang together afterwards. I soon found she had an extraordinary influence over me. I could not take my eyes from her face while she Avas with us ; when she went away I could not keep still. All night I Avandered about the lanes ; in the morning I found myself at her cottage-gate, waiting for her to come out. She came, and we walked together in the sunrise.

You have seen her ; you can guess the rest." "In fact," said the Colonel, "you fell honestly head-over-heels in love for the first time in your life." " Not only so, but let her see it. I said too much and I hope — I fancied — I saw a light in her face. I was horrified; I tried to tell her I was engaged to be married, but I could not do it, though I went to her house on purvol. in. n pose. I got my friend to tell her, and I came up to town. That night I was to dine out with Lord Vanecourt and his daughter. My friend, it seems, went and told her not only of my marriage, but who I Avas to marry. I have not heard what passed ; I only know the results. When I went to Lord Vane court's house in the evening she Avas there in the draAving-room. I cannot describe the scene that Avas taking place ; it utterly be- Avildered me at first.

At last I got some clue to it, and afterwards, when I followed her into the street, she told me in plain words what it meant. She says that she is Agatha Vale, Lord Vanecourt's daughter; that she saw him kill her grandmother ; that she totally refused to take the fortune or be associated Avith her father in any Avay ; that she disap peared, believing if she did so, that her for tune would come to me ; and that Lord Vane court simply substituted her servant for herself, and successfully carried out the imposture? " " It is a romantic story," said the Colonel. " You don't believe it? " said Leonard. " On the contrary, I have seen the lady, and I am inclined to believe anything she says. But, my dear fellow, it can be easily proved. She can be identified." " She is going to take the family solicitor Avith her, and visit the village she lived in with her grandmother.

Yesterday she was going to her cottage to make some arrange ments ; she was to haATe returned last night, and seen the solicitor this morning. I have been twice to her hotel, and she has not yet come to tOAvn. I am certain she is in fresh trouble. I feel it ! " " Oh, women are always unpunctual," said the Colonel. " But I don't know why you are in any doubt about who she is. You ought to be able to discover Avhether she speaks the truth or no." "At first," said Leonard, "I Avas horribly bewildered. You see I had become accustomed to the Miss Vale I kneAV. Meeting her first, established in her position, formed a pre judice in my mind which it Avas hard to shake. They accused Agatha of being mad ; they said it was she who was the servant, andoddlyenough, she has called herself by the servant's name.

They said she had run aAvay with Miss Vale's jewels on that night when I first met her." "She is not mad," said the Colonel; "and she is a lady." " For a while I Avas so bewildered by the neAv position that I Avas inclined to think she AAras the victim of some delusion. But yesterday, when I Avent to see her at the hotel and looked into her clear eyes, I could doubt no longer. She must speak the truth : she is Agatha Vale. But I do not think she wil 1 ever obtain her position or her fortune. It may be easy enough to identify her ; but her father is too clever a scoundrel to be check mated by so apparently easy a step. I think he "will find some means of preventing her identification ; but even if she should succeed in that, he would compel her to enter upon a trial. Heaven knows what resources he might discover in his fertile brain !

By the most daring act he has ousted her from her own ; he Avill find some means to retain it. Even if she should bring her trial and Avin it, I believe he and his accomplice Avould contrive to keep hold of the great fortune they are in possession of — perhaps by flying the country in time." " And is your mind made up betAveen tlie tAvo — the impostor Avith the money, or the girl you love without it ? " " I Avill marry none but the girl I love." " Bravo ! " cried Colonel Atman heartily. " You're a man, after all ! " " And if she will not let me love her — Avell, I Avill be her servant as long as I may, and then I Avill ask the mysterious brotherhood of India to take me as a disciple." " No, thanks," said the Colonel ; " they don't want }7ou." "And Avhy not?" demanded Leonard, someAvhat startled by the abrupt reply.

" Because they don't Avant disciples with unsatisfied desires. You must exhaust your desires before you become an ascetic." "Is that so?" said Leonard gloomily; " then the brotherhood is not a refuge." " No, it is not a refuge. It is the right place for those Avho are ready lor it. You are not ; your place is in the Avorld. But you Avill never be able to use your poAvers till you have Avon the woman that loves you. I kneAV that when I saAv you before ; so I am going to help you Avin her." " But," said Leonard, " your order is ascetic. Can you reconcile it Avith your con science to help me in a love affair? " " In a certain state of human development asceticism is the only possible or right con dition. I have been a man of the world and liked it, but I never knew the meaning of happiness till I gave up pleasure.

But it was not the sacrifice, of pleasure Avhich gave me happiness ; it was a changed condition of mind which made happiness possible and pleasure unnecessary. You cannot attain to this con dition till you are ripe for it ; you need the experience of a pure passion for your development. Do not fear to give your life to the woman you lo\re. I read her face ; she is your equal, perhaps your superior. She Avill help, not hinder, your progress." "It is an aAvkAvard thing," observed Leonard, " to break one's promise to the woman one is pledged to simply because the woman one loves says she is an impostor." " Make your conviction a certainty. You spoke of their family solicitor. Go and see him yourself and find out if he has any hidden suspicions. And take me meantime to call on this lady you are engaged to, and her father.

I should like to see the originator of such a pretty piece of devilry." " Will you come to-morrow? "' " Yes ; and in the morning you go to the solicitor. There is no time to waste. You have only ten days to fight in."

Chapter III. Is It

A CONSPIRACY? The early post, next morning, brought Leonard Dering a letter from his friend Mr. Meredith. It contained an account of Mr. Meredith's visits to Agatha's cottage; of the strange things that happened there ; of her breaking the AvindoAv and appealing to him ; of his starting off to the nearest magistrate. And it told how, on his return, the cottage Avas found deserted ; and the people in the other cottages said that a travelling carriage had driven by with tAVO strange men on the box. Leonard Avas at breakfast Avhen this letter Avas brought to him. He read as far as this and then rose from the table. He did not Avait to read Mr. Meredith's suggestions and ? 25 speculations. With the letter in his hand he Avent straight out of the house and drove to Scotland Yard. As much of Agatha's story as could be told Avas very soon told ; tAvo detectives were sent down to Brockenhurst by the next train.

This arranged, Leonard came out of Scot land Yard, got into a cab, and drove straight to Mr. Whitehead's office. Fortunately he had been in the Vanecourt carriage Avhen Lord Vanecourt had called at the solicitor's, so he kneAV perfectly where to go. He Avas too early. Mr. Whitehead had not yet arrived; the clerks showed him into an inner room and gave him a chair and the morning paper. Leonard threAV the paper down after one glance at it, got up and began to Avalk up and cIoavii the room. He 'knew not Avhat to conjecture. Of one thins he felt certain, that Martin had folloAATed Agatha and carried her off — Lord Vanecourt, then, it Avas Avho had entrapped her : Martin Avas his tool. But what Avould they do Avith her? — Avhere Avere they taking her? He opened Mr. Meredith's letter again and read it to the end.

There was nothing in it ; Mr. Meredith knew less than Leonard himself. "What interested him most was the account of Mr. Meredith's interview with Agatha when he went to tell her of Leonard's marriage. "To save me," repeated Leonard. "From what — from this impostor who has taken her name and rank. To save me! — God bless her ! " At this moment the door opened and Mr, Whitehead entered. " You are an early visitor this morning, Mr. Dering," he said. Evidently he was surprised. Leonard waited till the lawyer had estab lished himself in his accustomed chair and glanced over a pile of letters on the table. The letters were all pushed aside, and Mr. Whitehead put on an expression of attention. Leonard took a chair opposite him, looked straight in his face, and plunged. " Do you know," he said, " that there is a rival claim to Mrs. Dering's property ?

" ? 27 " Impossible, my dear sir ; it was all willed absolutely to Miss Vale, and, in the event of her death, to you." u Yes, but this rival claim is not only to the Dering property but to the identity of Miss Vale herself." The lawyer peered over his gold-rimmed glasses into Leonard's face. "What on earth do you mean, Mr. Dering? The thing's impossible." " Is it ? " said Leonard. " A young and beautiful lady said to me with her own mouth the other day — ' I am Agatha Vale, Lord Vanecourt's daughter. ' It sounded to me like madness at the time ; but the longer I consider, the less does it seem so absolutely impossible. At all events, there is so much possibility in it that it must be settled." " Leave the claimant to demand that it be settled," said Mr. Whitehead drily. "You forget," said Leonard, "lam to be married in nine days."