The Other Bond

Front matter

Digby 's Popular Novel Series Crown 8vo, handsome cloth, price 2s 6d each. THE MYSTERY OF CLEMENT Dunraven. By Jean Middlemass. Author of 'A Girl in a Thousand,' etc. {Second Edition) A HIDDEN CHAIN. By Dora Russell. Author of ' The Other Bond,' 'Footprints in the Snow,' etc. {Second Edition) DR JANET OF HARLEY STREET. By Dr Arabella Kenealy. Author of 'Molly and her Man-o'-War,' etc. {Sixth Edition with Portraits) THE JOLLY ROGER. By Hume Nisbet. Author of ' Her Loving Slave,' 'Bail Up,' etc. With Illustrations by the Author. {Fifth Edition) Other Works in same Series in due course. DIGBY, L0.NG & CO., London BY DORA RUSSELL Author of ' Footprints in the Snow,' ' The Broken Seal,' ' The Track of the Stori 'A Bitter Birthright," ' A Fatal Past,' ' A Country Sweetheart,' ' A Hidden Chain,' etc., etc.

LONDON DIGBY, LONG & CO., PUBLISHERS 18 BOUVERIE STREET, FLEET STREET, E.C. [All rights reserved] CONTENTS CHAP. PAGE THB PROLOGUE, I I. AFTER TWENTY YEARS, . . . . 1 8 ii. John's partners, 25 III. ONE DINNER PARTY, . . . . 34 IV. ANOTHER DINNER PARTY, . . 43 V. A SUNDAY AT ARRANFORD, ... 50 VI. HELD FAST, 6l VII. FOUND OUT, ...... 66 VIII. MR MITCHELL ASSERTS HIMSELF, . . 76 IX. FOR FATHER AND MOTHER'S SAKE, . . 83 X. AN OLD MAN'S WOOING, . . . . 9 1 XI. A GLIMPSE OF PROSPERITY, ... 98 XII. THE LAST WALK, 105 XIII. RICHARD HUME, 115 XIV. A SUDDEN SHOCK, 1 24 XV. THE BRIDEGROOM AND THE BRIDE, . 131 XVI. HUSBAND AND WIFE, . . . . 140 XVII. ABOUT A BALL, 148 XVIII. SAD NEWS, . , . . . . Contents VI CHAP. PAGE XIX. A MARRIAGE OF CONVENIENCE, . . 1 65 XX. AN EVENT, • 174 XXI. A MEMENTO, . . . . . . 180 XXII.

MRS CHICHESTER, 1 88 XXIII. A MORNING CALL, 1 96 XXIV. AFTER LONG YEARS, . . . . 304 XXV. HEADRINGTON 212 XXVI. A JEALOUS WOMAN, . . . . 222 xxvii. Eleanor's threat, .... 228 xxviii. john's determination, . . . 235 xxix. eleanor's visit, ..... 244 xxx. a husband's rights, . . . . 251 xxxi. a final interview, .... 259 XXXII. the divorce laws, . . . . 267 XXXIII. SUSPICION, 275 XXXIV. THE STILL SMALL VOICE, . . . 282 XXXV. DARK CLOUDS, . . . . . 29I XXXVI. A RICH MAN, 299 XXXVII. A USEFUL SECRET, ..... 306 XXXVIII. A BARGAIN, THE

Prologue

One hot July afternoon, the fierce sun rays were burning against the window-panes of a small house in a dull country town, forcing the bright light outside through the drawn blinds of an upper room, as though to mock the misery and shame within. And one bright ray gleaming through a crevice fell on the bent, brown head of a woman — of a woman kneeling by the bed, with a stony look of despair in her sunken eyes. Then hastily she started to her feet, and began pacing the floor with unequal footsteps. She was tall and slender, and had been handsome, but her beauty had passed away, blighted before its time, and her features were now haggard and wasted. ' Oh ! this is too much, too much ! I cannot bear it,' she moaned, wringing her hands as she wandered up and down the little room in her restless pacings. ' And the boy — the poor, poor boy — has his life to be wrecked like mine ? ' It was a poor room with poverty's chill touch on every thing around.

The carpet was worn and darned, the curtains thin and faded, and the whole place told its own story. But the woman in her shabby black gown, and with her white agonised face, seemed somehow unfitted to A be there. She moved with unconscious grace; she looked as though she had been born to different surroundings. And as the sun shone in and mocked her misery, you saw about her a certain refinement that told of better days. But suddenly she stopped and listened. A sound had reached her ears ; the sound of a latch key turning in a door, and a few moments later a heavy slow step was to be heard ascending the staircase, and the woman's face flushed and her breath came quick as it grew nearer. Then the room door opened, and a man stood on the threshold. A man with a slouching, down-in-the-world air, and whose eyes shrank from the woman's eager ques tioning gaze. ' John — is this true ?

Can it be true ? ' at length she asked, in sharp accents of bitter pain. He made no answer; he stirred uneasily. ' Mr Woburn has been here,' she went on excitedly; ' he — he came to give us warning. If the money that has been missed is replaced they will hush the affair up, he said, for my sake, if not — ' ' How the devil am I to replace it ? ' answered the man roughly. ' I haven't it; I know nothing about it.' ' John, did you take it ? ' she said, passionately, and she went nearer to him and laid her hand imploringly on his arm. 'If not, for God's sake, for the boy's sake, try to clear yourself; and if you did, you must have it, we have not had it.' 'It's a confounded piece of business, and I know nothing about it,' said the man, sullenly. ' But if the partners mean to make a row, I think I had better bolt.

What did Woburn say ? ' The woman dropped her hand from his arm with a moan of despair as she listened to these words. He was guilty then, and her last hopes died away. ' He said they would wait a few days; would give you a chance to make it right otherwise — ' ' Well, go on.' ' That they would consider it their duty to have you arrested. Oh ! John,' here she fell on her knees before Prologue 3 him, 'just think what this means? Dishonour, disgrace! I have gone through much, but spare me this; I — I cannot bear it ! ' The man — John Forbes Miles — was not unmoved. This woman, who had once been fair, was his wife, and for his sake, when their love was young, she had forsaken a sheltered home ; she had gone through years of poverty, pinching poverty and struggle, and now he had brought her to shame.

Everything went wrong with him he always said, and he lost one situation after another, and finally, at the office he was at present in, a large sum of money — over three hundred pounds — had disappeared. It had been sent to the bank in charge of John Miles, and he had never paid it in. Suspicion had fixed itself on him, and one of the partners of the firm, out of pity for Mrs Miles, had gone to her and urged her to persuade her husband to repay the money, and the affair would be allowed to pass, though John Miles would of course, lose his position in the office. 1 You must have it, if you took it,' continued Mrs Miles, still on her knees looking up at his averted face. ' Oh ! give it up, John. Mr Woburn was very kind, and we can go somewhere else, and then Jack, our boy, will never know.' ' I have not got it,' said John Miles, doggedly. ' You had best get up and think what we can do.' Mrs Miles rose feebly without another word. ' Can you borrow it, do you think ? ' went on John Miles. ' Perhaps your father — ' ' My father ! ' she echoed. ' You know he swore he would never speak to me again; that in our bitterest straits he would not send me a shilling nor a line.' ' Still in a case like this he might.

Suppose you go personally to Headrington and try to see him.' She moaned, and put her hand over her face. ' He would not see me, and if he did, what should I say ? ' she said. ' Say there's been some infernal mistake somehow. That the money I took to the bank was neglected to be entered there, and that if it's not made up there'll be the devil to pay. You can certainly make some sort of story up to wring it out of the old man.' ' I cannot ! ' and again she moaned. 1 Oh, well, you know the consequences then — I'll have to bolt, and then you'll find yourself in a pretty nice position.' 'We can but starve,' she said, bitterly. 'It's worth making a try for, at any rate. Can you start for Headrington to-night. And you can write and tell Mr Woburn that the money will be replaced before you go — though, add I know nothing about it, of course.' 'I am too ill to go; I have no strength to-night, the shock has been too great,' said Mrs Miles, piteously. 'Well, to-morrow then; there's a train starts from here about ten o'clock, and if you travel direct cross country to Headrington, you could be there about nine or ten in the evening, and the old fellow could not turn you out of doors at that time o' night.' Mrs Miles shivered; that was all. ' You know your way, don't you ? ' ' Yes,' she answered in a low, concentrated tone, ' if I were blind I think I should know my way to Headrington.' And her old home rose before her mental vision as she spoke; the old, stately home where she had been born and reared amid the woodlands and wide-spreading park of Headrington Hall.

She was the daughter of the Squire of Headrington, a stern old man who had never forgiven, and said he never would forgive, her foolish love marriage with John Forbes Miles. That he was unsuited to her position was undeniable. His father was land-agent at this time to Mr Stuart, the Squire, and lived in a pretty, small house at one side of the park; and young John Miles had been brought up there, and had led an idle, country life, shooting and hunting, and otherwise amusing himself, and never settling down seriously to the business of life. He was supposed to help his father, but Mr Miles Prologue 5 received very little assistance from his fine gentleman-son. He « as a handsome young man, and had known Helen Stuart and her brother Ralph since they were all children. John Forbes Miles was constantly with young Stuart, and thus was thrown with Helen, then a handsome young girl in her dawning womanhood.

She had no mother, and was unworldly, with lofty instincts, and with noble untutored thoughts. There seemed no harm to this poor child in the love which grew and grew in her heart to her brother's companion and friend. And John Forbes Miles was only too ready to take advantage of her trustful nature. To marry the Squire's daughter just suited his aspirations. He would have no further need to work, he told himself, and in an evil hour he persuaded Helen Stuart to elope with him. The old Squire's rage when this occurred was terrible. He cursed her; swore she might die in a ditch before he would stretch out a hand to help her; and he forth with turned Mr Miles (John Miles' father) out of his house and his situation, and so broke the old man's heart, who literally turned his face to the wall and died.

Young Stuart was also forbidden on pain of disinherit ance to hold any communication with his sister or her husband. And thus John Forbes Miles found himself compelled to make an effort to support himself and his wife. He had had a good education, but he had no in dustry and no capital. The unfortunate young couple therefore drifted on from bad to worse. Eighteen long weary years had passed away since Helen Stuart had fled from her home, and during this time John Forbes Miles had tried almost everything, but nothing long. He was always changing, but always unfortunate. And during these eighteen years also Helen's only brother, who had occasionally assisted them in spite of his father's com mands, had died, but Mr Stuart had continued obdurate though Helen was now his only child. But in vain had she appealed to him.

He never answered her letters ; he had told her she was as one dead to him at the time of her marriage, and he had fully carried this out. Even when her boy was born fifteen years ago he had shown no signs of relenting. It was a forlorn hope therefore, she knew, when her husband bade her travel to Headrington, to beg the money to save him from public disgrace. Mr Stuart had frequently predicted in his bitter way that John Forbes Miles would come to be hanged, and that it would be the best thing that could happen to him. And Helen — the unhappy wife — knew all this ; knew that she would rather die than face this stern parent, and be forced to tell the degrading truth. But for her boy's sake, — for Jack's sake, she would try, she whispered to her sinking heart, as she sat there in the hot room, and John Forbes Miles went downstairs to smoke.

Presently he called upstairs that he wanted some tea, and the white-faced woman rose and went down to make it, and then he asked for something to eat with it, and grumbled at the poor fare. Mrs Miles broke no bread ; her throat was parched, her brow aching, and her hands trembled. The shock and shame had struck her sensitive nature as a bodily illness. But she made no complaint. She had jpaid for the terrible mistake of her youth with tears as it were of blood. John Forbes Miles had broken her heart, but he was not thinking of her, nor her misery. He was wondering why things always went wrong with him, and hoping that Helen would be able to wring this money from old Stuart. And by-and-bye a ring came to the house door bell, and Mrs Miles went to open it, and outside stood her only child — her son.

A good-looking, stalwart lad of fifteen, who was already in an office in the town, and earning a trifle a week to help to pay for his daily bread. And a smile stole over his honest face when he saw his mother, which, however, quickly faded when he noticed how ill she looked. ' Why, mother, how awfully bad you look ! ' he ex claimed in his boyish way. ' It's the heat, dear,' she answered, and she bent down and kissed his fair brow, and pushed back the thick auburn Prologue 7 hair. ' Tea is ready, Jack, ' she said the next moment, and Jack nodded his head with alacrity when he heard this announcement. But as he entered the back sitting-room where the tea was laid out, his father addressed him. ' Well Jack, my lad, is that you ? I say, my boy, before you sit down will you run round to Roseberry's and fetch me in a quart of Bass's bitter.

I am choking of thirst, and do you happen to have a shilling about you that you can lend me till to-morrow ? ' Jack's brow instantly clouded. ' I've got no shillings to spare, father,' he said, ' and, moreover, I am not going to fetch beer from the public house.' 'You are a nice young cockerel to crow so loud,' answered John Forbes Miles, staring angrily at his son. ' So you are too proud, are you, to fetch your father a drop o' beer ? ' ' I am not going to do it,' said the boy. ' Don't ask him, John,' prayed the mother, entreatingly. John Forbes Miles muttered a suppressed oath. ' You are a nice pair, I must say,' he said roughly, as he rose from the table, and slouched out of the room, ' to help to keep a poor fellow's spirits up when he's down. However, I won't ask ye, I'll go myself,' and he went away, clanging the front door after him. ' Sit down, my dear, and have your tea,' said Mrs Miles, gently, addressing her son. ' You must be tired and hungry, and want your tea, but you were quite right to refuse ; never go there for him.

It's the first step down to ruin.' So the boy sat down, and the mother as she proudly watched him felt nerved for his sake to face her father. Then after a while she left him to make her small preparations for the next day's journey, and having done this she went downstairs again and found Jack, who was a great reader, hard at work with his books. It was almost twilight now, and the glowing day was done, but as the sun sank below the myriad-tinted clouds in the gorgeous west, the full moon rose, and Jack turning round as his mother entered the room noticed this. ' What a stunning moon ! ' he cried, starting to his feet. ' I say, mother, come out a little bit, I am sure the air will do you good ; let us go out in front.' ' No, let us go into the little garden at the back, Jack,' answered Mrs Miles.

So the two went out together bare-headed into the little patch of ground at the back of the house, which was uninviting and disorderly. Yet as they walked there, the mother's arm through her boy's, Mrs Miles raised her eyes upwards, and the serene glory of the heavens seemed somehow to cast a reflection on her own troubled grief stricken soul. ' Jack,' she said, softly, after a little while, ' I've got something to say to you, my dear.' ' Well, mother, what is it ? ' ' I have never told you of my youth, Jack, nor where my early days were spent, nor of my father.' ' Have you a father, mother ? ' asked the boy, eagerly. 'Yes, a father who disowned me,' and then she told him in a few brief words of her disastrous marriage, and of her father's resolution never to see or speak to her again. ' But I am going to try to-morrow, Jack, for the last time ; I have not much hope, remember, but still I will try for — for your sake.

Your father has lost some money and it must be replaced, and I am going to Headrington to beg for this. Perhaps my father will relent when I tell him of you j when I tell him how steady you are — my one comfort and blessing ; ' and she bent down and kissed him, while her eyes filled with tears. Jack was also greatly moved, and put his head against his mother's shoulder to try to hide that his grey eyes too were moist. 'Wait till I'm a man,' he said the next moment, sturdily. ' Always be good and straight, Jack,' half whispered the mother ; ' never do anything that may bring you shame.' Prologue 9 They talked a little longer in this strain — the mother and son — and then the stars shone out on the blue sky, and the white moonbeams fell around them and a peace, a sense of rest and hope for the young life near her seemed to dawn in the mother's heart.

The next morning Mrs Miles started for her old home, and Jack saw her to the station before he went to his office. John Forbes Miles produced the money to pay for her journey, and with a half-shudder Helen Miles took it, while John Miles urged her most vigorously not to leave her father's house until she got the money that was wanted. ' I will try,' Helen said in a low, firm tone, and that was all. And all through the dreary day of travelling that followed, for she was often worn and faint, she told herself silently the same thing, 'I will try for Jack's sake.' This bore her up, and gave her courage to endure the idea of her father's scorn ; to face his contempt. She was going back to say, ' Oh, father I have sinned I have been punished, forgive me for my boy's sake ! ' And so she went on and on.

She travelled third-class, and had a biscuit and a cup of milk at one of the stations at mid-day and nothing more. And it was close on eight o'clock when she reached the station nearest Headrington Hall, and by this time she was excessively worn and weary. Yet she had a mile to walk, she knew before she reached the outskirts of the park; a mile in the pale moonlight; a mile down the quiet country lanes, with aching limbs and sinking heart. She was so tired she seemed to go on in a kind of dream. She knew every step of the way, yet it appeared unfamiliar to her half-dazed senses. The shadows of the tall hedgerows on either side of her cast by the moonlight, swayed strangely before her eyes. They seemed unreal, and her existence seemed unreal. Helen Stuart going home after her long wanderings !

Was she Helen Stuart? she asked herself, vaguely, and old days, old memories, came crowding back to ner overwrought brain, but mistily and indistinct. At last she reached the park; she stopped, breathing heavily. There were the tall trees on the western side, she remembered: there the hedgerow where she and Ralphused to gather brambles in. their childish days. She half smiled thinking of these, this wan-faced woman, with the hollow eyes, looking so ghastly in the moon's pale beams. Then she crossed a little fosse which led into the park, and wearily crept on her hands and knees up the park side of it. Soon she was among the shadowy trees and found her way to a path through the woods where she had wandered as a girl with the man who had spoilt her life. She was almost quite exhausted by this time; so ex hausted that she staggered as she went feebly on; but suddenly her 'weary eyes fell upon something white on which the moonlight glimmered.

She crept towards this; she remembered it. It was a little marble fountain which her mother in her bridal days had caused to be erected for the deer to drink from, and which had always been scrupulously preserved by the Squire ever since Helen could remember. She heard the water falling softly now through the still night air, and she struggled to reach it. She would drink and it would refresh her was the thought which passed vaguely through her mind. She did reach it, and sank down upon the grass by the marble basin. But she was too tired to put out her hand and take the cup which was always there chained to the fountain. She closed her eyes, and kept listening to the water falling. Then bells — the village church bells — seemed to come floating through the air; floating by, and pass away and a great stillness and rest came to her weary soul.

Both John Forbes Miles and his son, Jack, were uneasy when they heard nothing from Helen Miles during the following day. John Forbes Miles was uneasy for his Prologue 11 own sake, Jack for his mother's. Still, very little time had been lost. She would not reach Headrington until the night before; she might not have been able to see her father, and was waiting to write until she did. So the day passed away, but the next day's post still brought no letter. Then her husband and son both became seriously anxious; the husband with very good reason, as he had received notice that if the money he was believed to have purloined was not restored by the day following, that a warrant would be taken out against him. The second day of Helen's absence from her poor home was therefore spent in a state of feverish anxiety, and every post eagerly watched and waited for.

But all in vain. The third morning dawned, and still there was no letter, and then John Forbes Miles determined to run away. How to do this now became the burning question in his mind. He might be watched, he decided, and he was therefore forced partly to confide in Jack. He, how ever put a fine point to his tale, though he did not quite deceive the shrewd boy. He had got into some trouble, he said, and he wished to go away quietly for a few days, and he wished also to change the colour of his hair and whiskers. Jack was therefore sent to purchase a bottle of hair-dye, and John Forbes Miles arranged to go by the night train, and was actually dressed and dyed to depart, when an ominous ringing was heard at the outer door. ' It's two men, father,' said Jack, who had made an observation from one of the upper windows. ' Two men ? ' said John Forbes Miles in a terrified whisper, ' do they look like — ' ' Very,' replied Jack, briefly. ' Then I must hide ; I will hide in the attic,' said John Forbes Miles, his teeth chattering with fright. ' What folly,' answered Jack ; ' you are ready to go.

Go quietly out of the back door as I open the front, and don't run. It's dark, and the chances are no one will see you, but don't go to the station here. Go across country to Uppingham station, and if you let me know where you are, I'll tell you when I hear from mother.' John Forbes Miles took this sensible advice, and speedily vanished through the back door into darkness, and Jack opened the front door, and was confronted by the two men who had come to arrest his father. ' Is your father at home ? ' demanded one of the warrant officers. ' No,' truthfully replied Jack. ' We must see about that though, youngster,' said the man, and they accordingly proceeded to search the house from kitchen to attic, while John Forbes Miles was going unnoticed down the quiet back street, and finally into the country lanes outside the town on his way to the distant station.

The warrant officers questioned Jack pretty closely, but the quick lad threw them off the scent. Thus John Forbes Miles was not arrested, and made his escape, carrying with him nearly one hundred pounds of the money he had taken. The rest he had actually lost in betting, and therefore, as he had truly told his unfortunate wife, he could not replace it. Poor Jack spent a very unhappy night after his father's departure. But his great anxiety now was for his mother, and he made up his mind to start early the next morning to go to seek her. She had left him the address of her old home, and Jack was determined to go there. He went to his employers after the warrant officers were gone, and got a day's leave, and he was conscious he was watched and followed as he quitted the house. The officers in fact, had not quite believed his story, but expected that John Forbes Miles was hidden somewhere in the town, and would probably return home when he expected the search for him was over.

Thus the house was watched all night, and was still watched when Jack quitted it in the morning to go on his journey to Headrington. The poor lad was afraid something had happened to his mother, and his heart was very heavy as he traversed the same road which she had done three days before, thinking so tenderly of him. But Jack was strong, young, and stalwart, and she was Prologue 13 bowed with grief and shame, therefore, when he reached the station nearest Headrington Hall he was still fresh and light of limb. He inquired the way to the Hall, and walked there quickly, arriving just as the master of the house drove up to his stately dwelling in his carriage. It was dark now, but Jack, as he stood back a little unobserved near the entrance, could see into the lighted hall, and he saw a tall, dark, handsome man between fifty and sixty enter, who was evidently the Squire.

In a moment the boy darted forward, and entered the Hall also before any of the servants had time to stop him, and as he did so Mr Stuart looked round. ' Are you Mr Stuart, sir ? ' said Jack, breathlessly and dauntlessly. 'Yes,' said Mr Stuart, slowly, with his eyes fixed on Jack's ingenuous face. ' Then I have a question to ask you, sir; something I want to say,' said Jack, glancing round at the servants. ' What have you got to say ? ' asked Mr Stuart, briefly and coldly. ' Could I speak to you alone, sir ? ' Again the Squire regarded Jack steadily as he made this request. The boy looked neither like a thief nor a beggar, he decided, so he waved his hand to a small room adjoining the hall. ' You can go in there, and I will speak to you,' he said, and so Jack went in, and Mr Stuart followed. ' Now, what do you want ? ' he asked. ' Sir,' began Jack, ' did a lady come here to see you three days ago ?