Vellenaux | Page 7

at all
doubt; but beyond this Ralph did not believe the Baronet would assist
him.
"Ah!" said the Attorney, as he took up the fourth letter and glanced at
the postmark, "from Devonshire, and the handwriting is that of Mrs.
Fraudhurst; what can that maneuvering woman have to communicate?
but we shall see, we shall see," and at once opened the letter. The
contents were evidently not of an agreeable character, for his brow
darken and his lips were firmly compressed as he read the long and

closely written epistle. At its conclusion he moved for a few seconds
uneasily in his chair, then re-folded the letter and placed it carefully in
his pocketbook. With his head resting on his hand he remained
sometime in deep thought; presently his brow became clear and,
turning to his desk, wrote rapidly for the space of an hour.
"Scrubbins," said he, addressing his confidential (and only) clerk, "I am
going to Devonshire, but will return the day after to-morrow; you will
find your instructions on my desk, and now give me the deeds; and
remember, should any one enquire for me tell them I am gone to the
country on business, and shall be back the day after to-morrow," and
without farther comment, Ralph Coleman passed out of the office.
It was a still, calm night in early autumn, the silvery moon looked
down from her deep violet throne amidst the starry heavens; the dull,
heavy sound made by the mighty ocean, as its huge waves were dashed
upon the sea-beat shore, fell audibly on the ear in the silent night. A
light sea breeze swept through the furze bushes that were scattered over
the Downs, across which lay the high road leading past the Park.
Bridoon, the old gate keeper, was seated on his wooden settle within
the porch of the lodge, smoking a long clay pipe, and occasionally
quaffing long draughts of rare old cider. He was just thinking of turning
in for the night, when a vehicle stopped, and a voice demanded
admittance. As the gates swung open a gig and its occupant passed
through and proceeded at a smart pace along the broad avenue towards
the mansion.
The clock of the village church was striking ten as Ralph Coleman
pulled up at the principal entrance of Vellenaux, and was met in the
hall by Reynolds the old butler, and conducted to the room he usually
occupied when visiting there during the shooting season.
"Sir Jasper," said the old servant, "has retired for the night, and Miss
Effingham is on a visit to the Willows, but Mrs. Fraudhurst is, I believe,
still in the drawing room; will you please to step in there until supper is
prepared for you." This suited the lawyer exactly, as he wished to have
a few minutes conversation with that lady previous to meeting the

Baronet, for the letter he had received from Mrs. Fraudhurst was so
cautiously worded, that although sufficiently explicit on most points,
there were some portions of it which he could not exactly understand,
or see in what way he ought to act, but doubtless she would put him
right on all matters that were to be brought quietly to the notice of Sir
Jasper. While making some addition to his toilet, it occurred to him that
she might be only making a cat's paw of him to feather her own nest,
but as he could not see clearly how this could be, dismissed the idea
from his mind, and shortly after made his bow to the widow.
She rose and received him courteously; apologised for the absence of
the host and his niece, supposed he would feel inclined to retire early,
as doubtless he would wish to rise at the dawn of day, to avail himself
of the excellent shooting which was to be had in the turnip fields, and
was altogether very chatty and agreeable; but she in no way alluded to
the letter she had written, to him, he was therefore compelled to broach
the subject, and before the supper bell rang, a mutual understanding as
to what was to be said and done was arrived at between them.
The Baronet and Mr. Coleman breakfasted alone on the following
morning. Edith had not returned, and Mrs. Fraudhurst excused herself
on the plea of indisposition, but doubtless she had some other motive
for absenting herself.
"And you found the birds plentiful, and in good condition," enquired
Sir Jasper, as he pushed away his plate, and turned his chair towards the
bright, cheerful fire which was blazing in the polished grate, and
stooping down to pat a couple of pointers that were crouching
comfortably on the hearth rug at his feet.
"Yes, indeed, quite so, I do not remember a season when