Here they dwelt in perfect harmony, their lives embittered by no petty jealousies, and wonderfully attentive to their lord and master, over whom they possessed considerable influence when they chose to exert it. There was not a servant on the plantation but would have been discharged had they dared to disobey any orders given by either, whether their master was at home or abroad. For nearly four years this state of things had existed, when lady Chutny's arrival totally altered the aspect of everything, and created quite a hurricane of passion in the hitherto quiet household, by driving the favorites forth with flashing eyes, hatred in their hearts, and thirsting for vengeance on their hated rival.

Lady Chutny had resided at Pallamcotta some six or seven weeks, and began to think that the term of her probation had lasted quite long enough for the purpose for which she had immured herself in the country, and at length determined to visit the Capital. Her husband had successfully, though unwittingly, paved the way for her reception among the cream de la cream of society; being a man of wealth, and likewise a sporting character, he had the privilege of the entree to many of the best houses in the city, and was always hand and glove with most of the staff and other officers, both military and naval, who were glad to welcome him at their mess-room or club-houses. Like a child with a new doll, he was proud of his handsome wife, and could not refrain from dropping a word here and there concerning her. The old Bungalow had, under her direction, been restored to its ancient splendour. It was her ladyship's intention to come up to town shortly, and give a series of balls and receptions, when she would be much pleased to receive his friends; and by this means Lady Chutny's advent among the big bugs at Madras, was quietly heralded without the slightest effort or ostentation on her part.



CHAPTER XVIII.

The firm of Deeds, Chancery and Deeds, of Gray's Inn Lane, the Solicitors employed by Horace Barton, on behalf of Miss Effingham, and who had caused to be inserted in the Times newspaper the advertisement alluded to in a previous chapter, had not long to wait for the information sought after. For on the following morning Mr. Septimus Jones, Mr. Crowquill and the firm clerk, presented themselves at the office in Gray's Inn Lane. The rough draft was produced, and the will of the late Sir Jasper Coleman, brought to London by Arthur Carlton, and now in the hands of the Gray's Inn lawyers, compared with it, and after careful scrutiny it was declared to be the identical will drawn by the Hammersmith lawyer, and witnessed by his two clerks several years ago; this was duly sworn to, and certain other documentary evidence taken down, and the three gentlemen returned to their homes in Hammersmith, each twenty guineas richer than when he had left it in the morning.

Now, although there was no one to contest the will, yet there were certain legal technicalities and forms to be gone through before Edith could take formal possession of Vellenaux, besides these same lawyers had been empowered to draw up the marriage contract, settlements, etc., between her and Arthur, the doing of which would take a considerable time, much longer perhaps than the ardent lover might think necessary. Edith would not hear of her dear Arthur remaining in the service after their marriage; so arrangements were made for the selling of his commission; this sum, together with the amount bequeathed to him by the late Sir Jasper, would put him in possession of seven thousand pounds.

It was planned that the wedding should take place at the old fashioned church at Vellenaux. There was to be no wedding tour, but the bridal party and a large number of friends were to proceed to Castle Audly, the seat of Lord De Belton, who had served in Arthur's regiment, and had been intimately acquainted with him for a few years in India. Castle Audly was a very ancient and romantic pile, and quite the show place of the country, here there was to be a magnificent Fete Champetre, Dejeuner a la fourchette, with archery and other amusements provided by the noble owner; the whole party were to return and dine at Vellenaux, and wind up the entertainment by a grand ball at night.

"Of course, my dear Carlton," said Horace Barton to that young gentleman one afternoon while lounging in the drawing room in Berkly Square waiting to attend the fair Edith in a canter through Hyde Park, "of course you will stand for the county at the next general election? Sir Sampson French, who is too old to again take office, will, I am certain, retire in your favour, if you will only come forward as a candidate; you have plenty of friends and admirers in and around Vellenaux to ensure your return if properly canvassed. A man of your ability and standing in society cannot afford to remain idle at such a time, though he may have a rich wife to back him."

"I should like to get into Parliament above all things, and certainly shall endeavour so to do, providing Edith gives her consent, and the good folks of the county will give me their support," was Arthur's reply as the lady of his love made her appearance equipped for the ride.

It had been the intention of the Bartons, to return to Devonshire immediately after, the ball in Berkly Square, but the sudden appearance of Captain Carlton with the startling announcement of the accidental death of Sir Ralph Coleman and the disclosures made by the unhappy man ere he breathed his last, caused them to put off their intended departure for some weeks, until matters were en train for establishing the validity of Edith's claim to the estate of her late uncle.

Aunt Cotterell and her good humored husband had, without the knowledge of any of their friends, built a handsome house on the bank of the brook which ran between Tom Bartons and the rectory; besides this, Mrs. Ashburnham had confidently whispered to Cousin Kate that her dear William was about to give up his practice which, for the last fifteen years, he had labored at so assiduously and successfully, and that he was now actually arranging for the purchase of that very pretty villa and grounds just beyond the Willows, as its owner, Sir Edmund Wildacres had, by racing and other gambling proclivities, managed to run through and overdraw his cash account at his bankers, so that his landed property had to come to the hammer, and, the young spendthrift was about to retire to some cheap Continental watering place until some of his antiquated relatives should be condescending enough to shuffle off this mortal coil and resign their purses and property to his careful control. And with Edith and Arthur settled at Vellenaux, there would be formed at once a happy circle, bound together by ties of family affection and disinterested friendship, and with such supporters as these to canvass his cause, Arthur's return, as County member, might be looked upon as amounting almost to a certainty.

The lovers did not fail to take advantage of the extension of time to be spent in the great metropolis, and balls parties, operas, and galleries of the arts and sciences, exhibitions of pictures and such other amusements as best suited the tastes and inclinations of these two, for the time being, devoted votaries of pleasures, were visited. There was another most important matter that had to be attended to, and this was one that entailed numberless visits to and from Madam Carsand's in Bond street, Store & Martimer's, Waterloo Place, and other fashionable emporiums, where the numerous articles, indispensable to the trousseau and toilette of a young and beautiful heiress.

It will be remembered that in the search for the Begum of Runjetpoora, Carlton had brought away with him in his sabretache a small steel casket as a trophy; after his return from the fort, and while dressing for mess, he remembered this circumstance, and was about to open and examine the casket and had already taken it in his hand for that purpose, when footsteps were heard approaching the tent, and not wishing others, to see his little prize he carelessly tossed it into an open trunk, among his wearing apparel, where it remained undisturbed until after his arrival in England, when, in looking over his wardrobe he came across the identical casket which had lain there so long and by him quite forgotten. Unable without the key to open it himself, he sent for a locksmith, who, in a very short time caused the lid to spring open, when, to Arthur's surprise and delight it was found to contain a number of precious stones of great value, in fact it was the Begum's jewel case, containing diamonds of the first water, rubies of unusual size, and pearls of great price, which, on being taken to a jeweler, proved to be worth, somewhere about ten thousand pounds. Arthur, although by no means a man of business habits, knew enough to convince him that this sum, together with the five thousand pounds left him by Sir Jasper Coleman, with what might be realized by the sale of his commission, if properly invested, would secure to him an income of not less than twelve hundred a year, a very pretty sum for a man to have of his own for pocket money, although his wife should happen to possess twenty thousand a year. He determined to carry out this arrangement as soon as any suitable opportunity for so doing came to his knowledge, but with the exception of Draycott he told no one of the Begum's jewels, or his intentions concerning their disposal.



CHAPTER XIX.

The happy, light Dragoon, in order to be near the lady of his love, had taken up his quarters at Harold's Hotel, in Albermarle Street, a very quiet, but aristocratic place, leading into Picadilly. Beyond the Bartons and their family circle, he had few intimate friends, in fact, except Draycott, the surgeon of his regiment, with whom he had been on the most intimate terms for years in India, and to whom he revealed all his joys and sorrows, there was not one male friend he cared a jot for in London; of course the men of his club, and those he had met abroad, who, like himself, were now home on leave, dropped in upon him occasionally at his rooms; but his constant visitor and companion in his peregrinations through the labyrinths of the great Babylon during the height of a London season, was Draycott: he was young, clever, high principled, thoroughly good natured, and of an old county family. He had but once only paid a flying visit to the metropolis previous to joining his regiment in India, and now having a few pounds to spare, was determined to enjoy himself in the gay Capital to his heart's content, and whenever practicable, induced Arthur to give him his society.

They had been breakfasting together, one morning in the latter's apartment, and were discussing numerous scenes and things at home and abroad in which they had both participated; nor was Arthur's approaching marriage with Edith Effingham, and his idea of leaving the service, left uncommented upon by his old friend.

"Well," remarked Draycott, with a gay, good natured laugh, "after your adventures and hair-breadth escapes, together with your great good luck in winning the beautiful heiress, it would not surprise me in the least if some old fairy godmother dropped from the clouds and transformed you into a gallant young Prince of some beautiful isle of the sea, yielding untold wealth, like the isle of the famous Count de Monte Cristo." Here the conversation was interrupted by the entrance of the waiter, who handed Arthur a card, which announced that a Mr. A.G. Capias, of the firm of Docket & Capias, Solicitors, Bedford Row, desired to speak with him on business of a private character.

"More parchment and red tape work cut out for you to-day," remarked the surgeon, "so I am off, but will drop in later in the day."

"Now, my good fellow, oblige me by remaining where you are until this matter—be it what it may—is disposed of, and I will then stroll out with you," said Carlton. Then, turning to the waiter, said, "Show the gentleman up at once." The obsequious attendant bowed and withdrew.

In a few moments the door was thrown open, and a spruce, dapper looking gentleman, clothed in sombre colored garments, irreproachable linen, and carrying a small merino bag in his hand, was ushered in.

"I believe I have the pleasure of speaking to Captain Arthur Carlton of H.M. Light Dragoons," said that individual, as he advanced towards the table, at which the two friends were seated.

"Late of the Light Dragoons," replied Carlton, "for I have sold out—or, what amounts to the same thing, I have directed the Army Agent to do so"—pointing as he spoke to a vacant chair.

The man of law availing himself of this piece of politeness took the chair, placing his bag on the carpet at his feet.

"And what may be your pleasure or business with me? You may speak out," said Carlton, noticing the glance that his visitor threw at the surgeon, "that gentleman is my most intimate friend and brother officer."

"I have a few questions to ask concerning your father and grandfather, the answering of which may lead to something, I have no doubt, will, at no distant date, prove of much importance to you and yours," was the reply.

"Proceed then," said Arthur, "with your interrogations, and I will reply to the best of my ability, though I must candidly confess that I know very little of the early history of my father, and still less of my grandfather, for they both spent so many years abroad, in India and on the European Continent."

Mr. Capias hereupon drew from his bag a small bundle of letters and papers and arranged them on the table in front of him, then commenced his enquiries as follows:

"Will you be so good as to state the name and position of your father, his place of birth, the school or college where he was educated, and the place of residence at his decease."

"Arthur Howard Carlton, Colonel of Cavalry in the service of Her Majesty, born at Montazuena, in Mexico, educated at Rugby, and died at Exeter, Devonshire, England, in the fifty-sixth year of his age, leaving but one son, your obedient servant," here Arthur bowed in a somewhat stately manner to his, interrogater.

"Exactly so," said the lawyer, glancing at a paper he held in his hand, which he then placed on the table, and taking up another, said:

"Will you now tell me all that you know concerning, your grandfather?"

"He was called Eustace Vere Carleton, I believe, from the fact of his signing himself so in his letters to my father, wherein he desired that he should enter the British service, and said that he should provide his commission and make him a small yearly allowance as long as he remained in the service,—these two letters are now in my possession and at your service, should you require them," so saying, Carlton took from his desk the papers in question, which he handed to the Lawyer. "But, pray, sir, in what way and to what extent am I to be benefitted by the early proceedings of my paternal relatives?" enquired the Dragoon, darting at the same time a knowing wink at the surgeon, who at that moment happened to look up, for until then he had appeared to be deeply absorbed with a late number of Punch, though in truth he was very much interested in, and had not lost a word of the conversation that had been going on between the lawyer and his friend Carlton, but he only shook his head in acknowledgment of the friendly wink, and continued to turn over the pages of that comical but highly interesting periodical which he had taken up at the commencement of the interview.

"Every lost link in the chain of evidence is, I believe, now complete," replied Mr. Capias, "and I am at liberty to communicate to you the following circumstance which, doubtless, up to the present time you have been a stranger to." He hereupon cleared his throat, and in a well modulated voice said:

"Maud Chumly, your great grandmother, the daughter of a Church of England Clergyman, at the age of eighteen married Arthur Eustace Carlton, ninth Earl of Castlemere. The result of their union was a son, a wild, harum scarum sort of a youth who, at the age of nineteen, was provided with an appointment and sent out to the British Embassy at the Court of Spain. While here he managed to get entangled and elope with the wife of a Castillian Hidalgo; they were pursued and overtaken by the enraged Grandee and his followers; the lady was recovered, but the husband lost his life in a duel with the gay Lothario who, subsequently, to avoid the vengeance of the family and the strong arm of the law, fled to Mexico, where, a few years after, he married the daughter of a French officer of high rank, by whom he also had an only son, but never returned to England, nor did he, on the death of his father, assume the title or take possession of the estate, but resided continually on the Continent; nor did he by word or deed reveal to his beautiful wife or child his real position in the Peerage of Great Britain. His son at an early age was sent to England, and was educated principally at Rugby, but he also graduated at Cambridge; he afterwards entered the English army, and during his stay in India married the daughter of a Judge of one of the native courts, and like his father and grandfather before him, had but one son, his wife having died during her passage to England. The bereaved officer served, subsequently, with great distinction, through the Peninsular Campaign, became Colonel of his regiment, and at the close of the war was placed on half pay, and at the age of fifty-six, died at Exeter, in Devonshire; this only son, Arthur Carlton, likewise entered the army and became a Captain of Light Dragoons, and is now beyond the possibility of a doubt, the rightful and lawful heir to the late Earl of Castlemere." Here Mr. Capias bowed most deferentially, gathered his papers together, said that he trusted in a few days to have the honour of another interview with his lordship, and then vanished from the room.

"The fairy Godmother, in the garb of a limb of the law, by all that's wonderful," burst forth Draycott, who was the first to speak after the visitor had departed.

"The next lady presented to her Majesty, by her Grace the Duchess of Opals, was the lovely and accomplished Edith, Countess of Castlemere, on her marriage with the noble Earl of that name." "By jove! it sounds well," exclaimed Arthur, starting out of a reverie into which he had fallen, and springing to his feet. "Draycott" continued he, "am I awake? Can it be all true what the little man in black has been telling us?" and Carlton paced excitedly up and down the apartment.

"Not a doubt of it, my lord," resumed Draycott "these musty old lawyers never commit themselves by letting out so much as this one has done, unless they are quite sure that everything is all safe, cut and dried and ready for use, as the saying is, and I think your lordship cannot refuse to join me in drinking the health of the future Countess of Castlemere;" and, suiting the action to the word, filled out two bumpers of sherry, which he and Carlton, nothing loath, quaffed off.

"And now for the stroll. I must call at the Bartons and mention this piece of news to Edith; but, my dear fellow, not a word of it at the clubs. Of course, they will hear of it from the newspapers before the world is many hours older."

Arthur was right, for the Pall Mall Gazette, of the following day, announced the retirement from the service of Captain Carlton, Light Dragoons, by the sale of his commission, and the Court Circular of the same date created quite an excitement in fashionable circles by the following: "On dit.—Captain A. Carlton, late of the Light Dragoons, has just succeeded to the title and estates of his great grandfather, the late Earl of Castlemere, which title had lain dormant for several years, in consequence of the only son of the late nobleman never having assumed the title, and died in obscurity abroad, and we, learn that the new Earl is about to lead to the hymenial altar the beautiful Miss Effingham, heiress of the splendid estate of Vellenaux in Devonshire."

The news of the alteration in Carlton's social position was received with the utmost satisfaction in Berkly Square. Edith was too firmly convinced of the unalterable attachment of her lover to fear that a change of fortune would, in any way, alienate or weaken the love he bore her, believing, as she did, that Arthur loved her with all the devotion of a long tried affection. Certain alterations in the programme had to be made, consequent on the elevation to the Peerage of the Bridegroom elect. The wedding, which, was to have taken place in Devonshire, was now to be celebrated in London; this entailed a delay of some few weeks in order that the family mansion of the Castlemeres, in Saint James' Square, might be re-decorated and furnished in a style befitting the occasion.

As the rent role of the Carlton Abbey property produced an income equal to a clear ten thousand a year, Arthur now considered himself in a position to carry out the great desire of his heart, that of presenting to his beloved Edith the costly gems he had brought with him from India. He therefore took them to one of the leading jewelers in London for arrangement and re-setting, and among the beautiful and costly wedding presents from the aristocratic connections of the Earl, from the Bartons and others who had known Edith from her infancy, there were none that could compare in any way with the magnificent diamond tiara ear rings and bracelets, the cross rings and brooches of rubies, pearls and diamonds, from the jewel case of that mutinous Indian Princess, the Begum of Runjetpoora.

With such zeal and good will did the lawyers on both sides work, that in less than three months from the death of Sir Ralph Coleman, Edith was in possession of Vellenaux, and Arthur had been recognized and installed as Earl of Castlemere, and master of Carlton Abbey, that being the name of the estate in Nottinghamshire, where the old Earl died.

Having thus succeeded to the title and estates of his forefathers, Arthur quitted his rooms in Albermarle Street, and located himself at his mansion in St. James' Square, which, although undergoing extensive alterations and decorations, had still a sufficient number of apartments in thorough repair and handsomely enough furnished, to satisfy the taste of a more fastidious person than our ex-Light Dragoon. It was really astonishing the number of visitors he had to receive, and cards and notes of invitation were showered upon him from people whose very existence he had previously never heard of, connections by marriage of the past generation crowded upon him, mothers with marriageable daughters invited him to their assemblies, young men of his own order sought to engage him in the various pursuits considered indispensable among those by whom he now found himself surrounded. When it became generally known that the new Earl was, beyond the possibility of a doubt, engaged to be married, the connections just mentioned thought it right and proper to recognize in Edith Effingham the future Countess of Castlemere; and, on learning that she was the niece of a baronet, and heiress, in her own right, to twenty thousand a year, she was sought after and made much of by the aristocratic relatives of her affianced husband, for the privilege of entering, as honoured guests, such places as Vellenaux and Carlton Abbey was not to be lost for the want of a little tact and polite attention to the bride elect, and so Edith's circle of female friends enlarged rapidly, and it was from among these that she selected the eight young beauties who were to act as bridesmaids on her marriage day, now fast approaching.

The Bishop of Exeter, who had been well acquainted with Arthur's father, offered his services on the interesting occasion, which were gladly accepted. Exactly at 11 a.m., the family carriage of the Bartons, containing Edith, Pauline Barton, and three of the bridesmaids, left Berkly Square. In a second were seated the other five ladies acting in that capacity. Then came the large, roomy vehicle of the good natured stock broker, occupied by Mr. and Mrs. Cotterell, Horace Barton and Mr. and Mrs. Denham, who had come up from Devonshire expressly to be present at the ceremony. Tom Barton and Cousin Kate accepted seats in the handsome barouche of the Ashburnhams.

The cavalcade reached Westminister Abbey just as the Bishop of Exeter, attended by two other clergymen, drove up. Quite a number of aristocratic equipages, with their occupants, had already arrived, and just as the bride was descending from her carriage, a handsome cabriolete, driven by the Earl of Castlemere; attended by his groomsman, Draycott, dashed up at full speed. Quite a large assemblage had gathered about the cloisters and aisles of the venerable structure, where it had pleased Miss Effingham to have the marriage solemnized, all anxious to get a glimpse of the wedding party, as they moved up to the chancel and took the positions assigned them in front and to the right and left of the altar, and a fairer scene than the one now presented to their view, had, by many been rarely, if ever, witnessed. The warm, ruddy light of a summer's sun, subdued by the gorgeously colored panes of the magnificent oriel windows above the altar, fell softly, yet brightly, on the richly dressed groups that composed the bridal party.

Attended by a bevy of young maidens, Edith, in the pride of her womanly beauty, now fully matured and developed, advanced with a firm step and knelt before the altar, her symmetrical and perfectly faultless figure appearing to advantage in a rich white corded silk, with its superb train of the same material, the whole trimmed with fine old point lace of the most costly description; nor did the exquisitely worked veil she wore conceal the tresses of golden brown hair that fell in luxuriant ringlets on her alabaster shoulders. The magnificent diamonds of the Begum encircled her fail brow, neck and arms, while pendants of the same precious stones hung from her small, shell-like ears, their brilliant prismatic hues shooting forth and glittering with lustrous and dazzling brilliancy at each movement of the wearer; but far brighter than all was the glorious rays of the light of love and joy that danced and scintilated in the deep blue eyes of the bride as she stood forth and plighted her troth to him she so fondly and devotedly loved, and the face of the handsome Earl beamed with unclouded happiness as he placed the small golden circle on the finger of his future Countess.

The ceremony was not a long, but an impressive one. The bridal anthem was beautifully rendered by the choristers, accompanied by the clear, full, deep tones of the grand old organ. As the clock in the square tower was striking twelve the whole party left the Abbey, and were driven to the Earl's mansion in Saint James' Square, where a luxurious repast was prepared for them, to which ample justice was done. At two, the Earl and Countess stepped into their traveling carriage and were whirled off to Brighton, from which point they were to start on their bridal tour through Continental Europe.

The Bartons and Cotterells left town a few days later for their homes in Devonshire, where they hoped to be comfortably settled ere the honeymoon of the happy couple should have terminated, as it was the desire of all concerned to give them an enthusiastic welcome on their return, and arrangements and preparations were at once entered upon to make the occasion one of general rejoicing and festivity, and a general holiday to all in and around Vellenaux.



CHAPTER XX.

The city of Madras, the seat of Government and Capital of the Presidency of that name, although not possessing all the facilities for an agreeable sojourn to the lover of pleasure and amusement that may be found at the capitals of the sister Presidencies—Bengal and Bombay—it having neither the healthy climate of the one, or the wealth of the other. Yet there are times and seasons when Madras is very enjoyable: just after the south-west monsoons, when all nature is clothed in verdant beauty, and a delightful coolness pervades the air, the Neilgerie Hills cannot be surpassed by those of Mahableshwa or any other sanitary station in India, even the Capital itself, whose shores are washed by the boiling surf from over the triple reefs of rocks during the rainy season; but that time being past, a more tranquil state of things pervades the ocean, and cool sea breezes waft over the city. At the time of which I am writing, Madras was more than usually gay, several vessels of war were in port and a number of crack corps had arrived from Europe and elsewhere, officered by a set of men whose fathers and great-grandfathers before them had served their country either in the army or navy; they served not for pay but for honor, and to uphold the high and honourable name bequeathed them by their ancestors. Many of these came into the regiment not to save but to spend money, and it was surprising to the calculating natives the enormous sums they managed to get through during their short stay at any of the large towns or stations where Europeans do most congregate.

The stream of fashionable life was now at its height, now in full force when Lady Chutny's magnificent bungalow was thrown open for receptions; and it was not long before the fame of her ladyship's fetes and assemblies spread far and wide. Sir Lexicon was known to be exceedingly wealthy, and it will be remembered that Mrs. Fraudhurst, on quitting England, had drawn out of the bank her capital of ten thousand rounds. This sum, together with a large amount given her by the planter for the express purpose of giving entertainments in town, had been paid into the bank of Madras, in Lady Chutny's name. The sum was actually only one lae and a half of rupees, but dame rumour, with her hundred tongues, had quadrupled it.

The season was now at its height, and her ladyship had issued cards for an entertainment that was to exceed anything before attempted in Madras The spacious verandahs to the right, left and rear of the bungalow were converted into lounging halls, half drawing-room, half conservatory, while the compound and gardens were brilliantly illuminated with countless colored lamps and lanterns. Hundreds presented themselves for admission to the fairy-like scene, and it was allowed by all to be a perfect success, a gem of the first water of entertainments, and such, as many of the guests had seldom witnessed. Her ladyship, elegantly attired, and flushed with pride and pleasure at the triumph she was achieving moved gracefully about from one room to another attending to the comfort and convenience of her visitors. In passing along one of the improvised conservatories, the figure of a cavalry officer attracted her attention. His features were screened from her view by the leaves of a magnificent orange tree, but there was something in his general outline, as he stood leaning indolently against the trellis work chatting with a drawl, real or affected, to a little lady seated, or rather reclining on a low ottoman close by, something that caused her to start as if the gallant officer was not altogether unknown to her, but her memory would not at the moment serve her, yet a feeling of mistrust, a sort of almost indescribable sensation of disquietude came over her as she listened to the polite nothings that issued from his lips; but fearing to attract observation she quietly withdrew, and entering the upper end of the ball room summoned her chobdah and pointing out the figures said, "When that gentleman leaves his present position, tell him that Lady Chutny desires to speak with him." The native made his sallam and withdrew. In a few moments the object of her enquiry advanced towards her, and without preface or introduction, commenced, "I am informed that your ladyship has done me the honor to request my presence, and, like an obedient slave, I am at your ladyship's command," and he bowed with the most deferential politeness as he delivered himself of this harangue; then recollecting for the first time that he had no card of invitation from, or introduction to, her ladyship, began to stammer forth his excuses, that he had dropped in on the strength of having met Sir Lexicon for a few minutes at the mess of the Fusiliers, and had accepted his general invitation as a carte blanche. He was quickly relieved from his embarassment by his handsome hostess declaring herself fortunate in numbering among her friends so gallant a chevalier. "I was not aware that your regiment was in town, nor do I believe that I have ever met your distinguished corps, and it was to explain away the seeming slight in neglecting to forward cards that I have requested a few minutes' conversation with you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



CHAPTER THE LAST.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

THE END.