Abergavenny Chronicle

TALL EIGHTS RESERVED.} 'THE LORD OF THE DYKE. BY WALTER WOOD, "The Enemy la (Auor of Men of the North Sea, "l1\c EDemy ID Our Midst," &c. CHAPTER X. I A MERCILESS HAW. I When Harry Beldon had quite recovered •from the shock of the adventure in Dead- miaa's Cove he found himself in a very 8tran and serious dilemma— a dilemma in which only one thing gave him consolation and support, and this was that he was Sylvia's accepted lover, a Emcces which even in his most hopeful and romantic moments at sea he had not dared to drftam of winning 110 soon and so easily. He was, however, prac- tical enough to put aside the clement of tenderness and sentiment and look at his position squarely. As a naval officer it was his clear duty, in view of the flashed messages with which he had become acquainted, and the strange things he had witnessed in Deadman's Cove, to see that the Master was brought to book Joe his performances yet he was not able to do so, for the two great reasons that he had ,given his promise to Sylvia and the Master that no harm should come to them, through any act of his. He had pledged his word to Svlvia that he would not put her father in peril, and he was compelled to feign igno- rance of any nefarious project which that grim individual might have in hand. Harry had frequently yearned for a situation which "would put his sense of duty to the teat. The situation had arisen, and he had ignomini- ously collapsed under the peculiar strain of it. There had been a short, sharp fight be- tween his conscience and his love, and love, after only an apology for a struggle, had scored the victory. "Bother it!" exclaimed the young officer, ""I'm between the devil and tho deep sea— and I may fairly call the Master the first and the governor the second. I'm tangled up in a bewildering puzzle. I know I'm doing -wrong, and yet I haven't the pluck to do aright. What's going to happen if the real truth leaks out—th'at I knew so much and said so little? What guarantee is there that some of those fellows from the ketch won't blab, or even that that queer corkscrew the Master won't round on me, if it suits his ticket, just to work my professional ruin?" Harry looked blankly out of the window, over that sea which he loved so well, and sighed as he recollected the punishment that had been inflicted upon comrades in the Navy for less serious departures from duty than his own. "Ah, well!" he sighed. "I ?ut-y and a woman liad to choose between my duty and a woman --and I'm not the first by millions to give the girl an easy win. I had to take my -choice, and I've got the best of the bargain I'd rather have Sylvia than the finest ship in the Navy." Beyond this it was not possible for Lieutenant Beldon to go. IVith the enthusiasm of youth and the rap- "tdre of a first love he dwelt on his engage- ment, and had a selfish satisfaction in know- ing that for the present the secret was shared only by Sylvia and himself. But there was one thing which filled him with gloom, and that was the impossibility of see- ing Sylvia except surreptitiously. This waa a keen disappointment to him, and was none the less bitter to Sylvia. Harry's dilemma became the greater be- cause of the natural curiosity and anxiety of "his father. Being entirely unhampered in his movements when ashore Harry was able to avoid a meeting for a couple of days, during which he made most heroic efforts to .pull himself together and destroy all traces of his injuries. In this he was aided and abetted by a medical friend whom he 3aw at Rockborough, a retired naval surgeon, who did the young man's bidding and refrained "from questions; but Harry knew that he must submit to the inevitable, and accord- ingly, when at breakfast on the third morn- ing after the affair in Deadman's Cove his father with gruff kindness demanded to know what was wrong with him, he was ready with appropriate explanations. "What's that mark on your temple?" asked John Beldon. "It looks as if some- thing or somebody had come into collision with you. And generally you seem to be out of sorts and run down." "You know what a clumsy chap I am at titncs, replied Harry carelessly. "I was bungling about the beach the, other night, and got a terrific whack from something or other. I didn't see what it was" —he was thankful to feel that this part of the explana. tion was literally true, for he certainly had not seen the Master's fist. (õ On a coast like this you never know what's going to hit you, especially in the dark and when you're about the nation's business." Harry was pleased again, because when he hinted that he was 'carrying out the business of his country it was understood that no details concerning it were to be given, and that the matter was private. Um," muttered John Beldon, rather dis- appointedly. "It seems to me tllq the Navy often rushes its servants into a lot of hard and dangerous work, and gives them pre- cious little for it. However, I mustn't ask any questions." Oh," returned Harry with alacrity and feigned candour, "there's no such powerful secret about it as all that. As a matter of fact I was on the prowl in Deadman's Cove, and the Cove, as you know, isn't lit by elec- tricity." "I know nothing of the place, except by repute," observed John Beldon. "I've never been near the beach since we came to live in these parts. It's astounding to think that you can be so near a place and never set eyes on it. However, when a lad goes roaming about in the dead of night he must expect a knock or two. I suppose it was one of the knotty bits of rock that caught you. Well, ljt's be thankful it's no worse. Your arm seems to be a bit stiff," added John. Beldon rather suspiciously. "It is, admitted Harry readily, "but I tliare, again, when you get a sudden bang 1; a hard object, even in the fleshy part of it. you are made painfully aware of the fact. i. ,-wever, these trifles are not worth talking ao >ut. It's quite a long time since I heard what's happening," he continued, changing the subject and talking rather hurriedly, "I can't help wondering what is happening, or going to happen, to our mysterious friends at Dyke Castle. Have you any idea!" "Yes, I have an idea," replied John Bel- don, after some hesitation. "I needn't go into it, though. You'll know soon enough what development is likely in that quarter. Now, suppose we put this matter on the same level as your own—that it is the nation's business?" He smiled slightly at the nature of the hint, and took up a newspaper to indi- cate that he had no wish or intention to go further into the subject which his son had raised. Harry, with the impulsiveness of youth, committed an indiscretion. He was hotly in love, he fondly regarded himself as Sylvia's protector and redeemer from a host of un- seen ills, and there and then, without cool- ness, without preparation, unready for a con- flict with superior forces, he resolved to do battle on her behalf to the extent of learning his father's intentions towards the Master. "Look here, dad," he began pacifically, tising and standing, hands in pockets, before the fire, "I'm not quite such a blind bat as I'm afraid you think I am, and I'm no longer a raw and irresponsible youth. Don't you think you might trust me with some idea of the nature of your operations, let me into the secret, so to speak, of your plan of cam- paign? I know a little, and my curiosity is whetted." "Then I think I should wet it a little mora—and damp it out," replied John Bel- don. and he smiled slightly itgain. Harry was nettled, and a spirit of reckless- ness and defiance filled him. "Of course," he said rather haughtily, "I know you too well to suppose that you will take me into your confidence if you do not see fit to do so, and, apparently, you do not, in this case. I have learnt that it is you who have the mortgage on the Dyke estate, ana that the mortgage has to be paid off by the end of this year. That is only a few weeks distant now." "You have been exercising your wits pretty sharply," observed John Beldon. "I do not blame you for that. I take it that what you have heard is common knowledge, and the property of the countryside?" "Everybody knows it," Harry assured him eagerly, detecting some note of surrender in his father's tones. "Whether they speak truly or not you are the best able to judge." "They have hit the nail on the head," ad- mitted John Beldon. "I am almost curious enough to inquire what else they say, and how far their knowledge of other people's business goes. I have lived a fairly long time, and have seen as much of my fellow men as most of my friends I have kept my mouth more tightly shut than nine men out of ten- and yet I have to sit hero and marvel that so much is known about me and my intentions. I can scarcely believe that the Master him- self has been taking his fellow creatures into his confidence." "How the story has got about I have not the least idea," said Harry, more pacifically. "I am simply telling you what I have picked up. The fact that I know so much has aroused my inquisitiveness, and, bluntly, I want to learn more." John Beldon put his newspaper down, and, leaning back in his comfortable leather chair, slowly adjusted the spectacles which he always wore when reading, and stead- fastly regarded his son. "I wonder," he said at last, "why Jou should be so powerfully in- terested in vi tt, after all, is a matter of everyday bus rèSB ? You must remember that what I have Uone is only what is done regu- larly in this hard world of ups and downs. The Master wanted money, I wanted to lend some, on the security of the Dyke estate— and there you are." "But this is not quite an ordinary case," continued Harry, looking steadily at the carpet. "There are many exceptional fea- tures in it. I'm bound to say that I have a warm feeling in the corner of my heart for that old Master, bad lot though he may be. There's something splendid in the way he's put his back to the wall and is defying every- body. Then there's the Castle itself. What a history it's got!" "And what a sorry wreck it is!" observed John Beldon. "My good lad, it's no use wasting sentiment on Dyke Castle, or sym- pathy on the Master. The one wont replastor the rotten, weeping walls, and the other will get no recognition from the Master. The man does not understand even the rudiments of decent conduct. But he will soon have the chance of learning them." "And how?" inquired Harry, with a quick look at his father. "By mixing with the world of which he has been ignorant so long," replied John Beldon. "That means, I suppose," said Harry, "that you are going to put the screw on? I don't speak harshly, father—I only use one of your own pet expressions." "Don't apologise," said John Beldon. "It is quite needless. You are correct—only, as it happens, I do not call this putting on the screw. I'm merely going to foreclose at the end of the year—and as you have said, the end of the year is not very far off." Harry laughed rather uneasily. In his heart of hearts he was afraid of his father. He had held him in awe as a child, and felt like a child again in the presence of the man, who, while being absolutely just, was a merciless creditor. But the love of Sylvia, and, therefore, the wish to do something to help the Master, was stronger even than the fear of John Beldon. Besides, Harry was a good fighter, and he was fast ripening for the fray. "I don't want to seem rude or interfering," he went on, "but I. really don't see the dif- ference between what you have explained now and putting the screw on." "You can call it that, if you wish," said John Beldon, who was himself becoming angry, "and you may call it grinding down the Master, if you like. There are a hun- dred and one ways of describing the thing; but it all comes round to this, that what is being done is a mere matter of form and business. "But isn't it business to give a poor devil a bit more time?" said Harry boldly. "Even a hunted fox gets his chance. Are there no days of grace?" "Not for such a man as the Master," snapped John Beldon. "Now I've said all I want to say on this matter—and I should be sorry to lose my temper over it. Is the thing worth it? Bless my soul, no! Why, my lad, if I had been bothered during my business life as you are being bothered now, I shouldn't have had a bank balance to call my own. Take my word for it—if you are really anxi- ous to show sympathy to anybody, you can find far better subjects than the Master, and infinitely more deserving." "It is not only the Master I am thinking about!" exclaimed Harry; then he flushed with anger, for he instantly recognised that he had been guilty of another indiscretion. "Eh!" said John Beldon sharply. "What's that?" Harry did not immediately reply. He looked out of the wide window over the country, and suddenly wondered which was the more gloomy-the landscape or his own soul. Come," said John Beldon, deliberately putting his paper aside and removing his glasses. Except for reading, he could see better without them. "If you are not think- ing of the Master, who else should you have in mind?" "Well," replied Harry, "even the most casual talker on the subject would naturally give a thought to the Master's daughter." He continued, to look out of the window, over the bleak, brown country. "Ah!" said John Beldon. "Now I begin to understand! So the girl they call the Dark Dyke Beauty is the cause of all this trouble in your mind?" "I am not troubled," said Harry quietly. "Then why disturb yourself?" asked John Beldon. "What concern of yours can it be whether I let the Master stay on at Dyke Castle or turn him out? One might almost think you had been retained to fight the Master's cause." "Nobody has briefed me," asserted Harry boldly. "I am speaking merely as an aver- age man. I heard of this thing, and that is the sole and simple reason why I have ven- tured to speak to you. I can tell you I would far rather have the handling of a small craft in dangerous weather than talk to you as I am talking now." He spoke earnestly, and turned and fearlessly faced his father. His blood was up at last and he was determined to fight the battle to the end, however bitter the conflict might be, and however sure and ignominious his defeat. "People are talking -you can't reef their mouths," continued Harry, "and I hate to hear them say hard things about you." "Pooh!" scoffed John Beldon. "When you have had as many harsh things said about you as I have heard concerning myself, your hide will become tough to imperviousness. I like your spirit, but as I have frankly told you, I do not admire your cause. You are wasting your energy." "Why are you so bitterly hostile to a man who has done nothing to hurt you?" asked Harry, almost despairingly. John Beldon laughed disagreeably. "Done nothing to hurt me!" he exclaimed. "Why, he has wiped the floor with me-me, a man who could buy him up lock, stock, barrel, soul and body, and never feel it- I me, a man who went so far as to do the very thing you are asking me to do now, showed him mercy and consideration. Even I, the man who is spoken of as the soulless moneybags, have my moments of compassion. This was one of them, and I have bitterly regretted it. After what has passed, the Master goes out of Dyke Castle on the First of January next. That is my determination. As you know, whon once my mind is made up I never change it." "Except for very good reasons," said Harry. "What good reason can there be in such a case as this?" asked John Beldon, in puzzled tones. "You are talking on the sure assumption that the Master will not be able to repay you," answered Harry. "If ho finds the money you will, of course, be compelled to change your plans." j "Quite so," John Beldon admitted, "but I that is as likely as that you will ever com- 1 mand the Channel Fleet, much as you would like to do so, and much as I would wish it myself. You seem to think I am acting in this way for nothing, and without a very good reason. "I do not know of any sufficient ground," said Harry. "Is it nothing," asked John Beldon angrily, "when a man orders you out of his house as if you were worse than a servant, and in- sults you in a way that you would not think of using towards a dog? Do you think I'll spare a man who tried his best to make my blood boil, and did it, too? But Master Of Dyke or no Master, I'll teach him a lesson that he'll remember till the day of his death. I'll show him who has the whip hand in this business. Now, that is plain speaking. I have said a lot more than I meant to say, and for that matter, more than you have any right to know; but I wish you to get out of your head some of the nonsense which I see is gathering there." John Beldon finished with a sort of growl. His voice had become thick and his hard face was flushed and sul- len. It was the forerunner of a storm, and Harry might even now have profited from the signs and averted the outbreak which he had so audaciously encouraged. "I see the bearing of all you have told me," said the young man, "but you must remem- ber that the Master comes of a proud race, that he has had terrible ill-luck, and that he is only doing a natural thing in moving heaven and earth to keep his roof over his head. Think of all that Dyke Castle means to him-why, the very bones and blood of his people are mingled with the earth of the place Suppose we were in his shoes! Sup- pose, for a moment, that you were the Master of Dyke!" "I grant all your contentions," replied John Beldon, "and I would have stretched a point if the Master had treated me in ordi- nary fashion; but he didn't. No man shall treat me for a second time as he did. I tell you, if I had to spend every penny I have in the world I'd spend it, not so much for the sake of me getting into Dyke Castle as for the satisfaction of getting him out of it." Harry Beldon came to the real point at last. "What about the daughter?" he asked abruptly. "I wish her no harm," replied John Bel- don steadily. "She seems to be a fine spirited girl; but I can't help it. She'll be able to get a good home somewhere—a woman like that always can. As for the Master, he can go to the worKhouse, for anything I care." As he spoke he looked keenly at his son, almost de- termined to explain the real and only reason why the Master had so ignominiously treated him; but he held his peace. Simultaneously, too, Harry meditated a confession of his love for Sylvia; but he, too, kept silence-for the present. "Suppose the Master has the money ready for you?" persisted Harry. "Suppose, which is as likely," answered John Beldon roughly, "that the sky rainá pigs? No, no, my son. New Year's Day will come, and as sure as that happens, so surely will the Master go." "And his daughter?" asked Harry in a low voice. "Well," rejoined John Beldon, "I suppose she'll go with him." "We will assume another thing," added Harry, "and it is that I, your son-and only child, implored you to be merciful to the girl. What then?" "I should tell you," answered John Bel- don, "that not even the intercession of my son would help the daughter, if it interfered with my revenge on the Masterl" For some moments Harry was silent. Then he said, bitterly and almost helplessly, "God help them both John Beldon's outburst came at last. He sprang to his feet, and advancing towards his son he looked him sternly in the face. "One would suppose, from your manner and your speech," he said, that vou have fallen head over heels in love with this Dark Dyke Beauty!" "And suppose that happened to be the case, what then?" asked Harry with enforced calmness. I take it that the next thing would be marriage?" pursued John Beldon, angrily. Well, let me give you to understand that such a thing would be in absolute opposition to my wishes!" Surely," protested Harry, in amazement, you would not allow your hostility to the father to affect the daughter? What in the world can she have done to vex you?" Nothing, directly, but indirectly she was the cause of my disgrace when I visited the Castle," replied John Beldon. Now that I have gone so far, and you have brought this on yourself, I will tell you what happened. I made a suggestion, a proposal, to the Master, the result of long consideration. You know what I have always wished you to do in the way of marriage-to bring about an alli- ance with a family that had a history better than my own. Money has never been an ob- ject in mv calculations. I have plenty of that for all purposes. It was an idea of fair exchange, other things being equal. I would give the wealth, the other side would fur- nish the blood. That sounds blunt, but it is what I had in mind. I had set my heart, for reasons which even I cannot clearly explain, on this Master's daughter for you, and I put the matter before him in a plain, straight- forward fashion, like a business man. The Master listened patiently, then he burst forth like the Pit itself and ordered me out of the place." John Beldon trembled with passion at the recollection of the insult. "I am sorry to hear that I have been hawked in the marriage market," said Harry, with a feeling of shame that he tried in vain to repress and conceal. Such a proceeding laid you open to what actually happened." "Why," exclaimed John Beldon, furiously, you talk and look as if you were in league with the pair of them! And as if I had com- mitted some unpardonable crime." It was not a proper thing to do," said Harry, bitterly, "and in your heart of hearts you must have known it even when you interviewed the Master." "If it is any comfort to you to learn it," said John Beldon, "my heart told me nothing, and my conscience did not trouble me. I do not see anything wrong, even now, in the proposal I made. Good heavens! Are not such things done every day, and in far higher circles than I have ever had dealings with?" "It is an unpleasant subject. to discuss," observed Harry, walking slowly towards the window. Stay, my lad," said John Beldon, firmly, and with a touch of kindness in his tones. He gently seized the edge of Harry's coat and detained him. "I have not finished yet. We have both gone too far to retreat. Come. let us get to the end of the thing as quickly and clearly as we can. Let us understand each other. We have always done that, at any rate. Now tell me-Have you met this girl?" "I have," admitted Harry frankly. That is news to me," continued John Bel- don. You said nothing about it-but per- haps it came under the heading of the nation's business! However, I will not be bitter. Human nature is human nature." He might in fairness, too, have added that he first met his own wife surreptitiously, and for that matter, secretly married her, too, in defiance of all opposition. "Does the Master know that you have seen her?" continued John Beldon. "I have spoken with her, to the Master's knowledge," answered Harry. said John Beldon, H so the Master a pproves?" "I do not follow you," remarked Harry. "I say, my lad, that I suppose the Master has given his consent to any understanding that exists between you and this girl." The Master knows nothing," replied Harry. "From what I have seen of him he would be the last man in the world to ap- prove. I myself have had a dust with him- because I happen to bear my father's name." The puzzle deepens," continued John Beldon. You spring surprise after sur- prise upon me. I am ready to believe that the Master is in ignorance of what is taking place. I wonder what he would say if he knew, because he boasted that clandestine marriages were not usual in his own station of life." "There is no question of marria.ge-for the present," said Harry quietly. "And between you and the Master's daugh- ter," added John Beldon, "there never can be He released his hold of his son's coat as he spoke, and awaited the answer to the climax of the quarrel. For fully a minute there was a painful and perfect silence. Then Harry, in a km, steady voice replied, "That, father, is a matter for Sylvia and myself to settle. "Sylvia!" exclaimed John Beldonv "So it r I has really got as far as Mi at—that you speak of each other by your Christian names i "We are engaged to Lj marriedinti- mated Harry quietly and definitely. Again there was a long silence. John Bel- don staggered slightly, and placed a hani on lils breast, as if he had received an actual physical blow. His breath cam thickly, too. and the colour leit his face. "Are you ill?" asked Harry anxiously. "No," answered John Beldon. "Not more so than I have been for some time. It is a bit of faintness and will pass off. Give me a nip of brandy." Harry, conscience-stricken, obeyed. John Beldon took the proffered glass and swallowed the brandy and water which it contained. "There," he said, "I feel better. It is nothing—not enough, anyway, to stop oar discussion. Where were we? Let me see —ah, yes! So your mind is absolutely made np? You have an understanding with this Master's daughter?" "I have," replied Harry. "Of such a nature. I take it, that as a man of honour you will be compelled to carry it out?" "It will be no hardship to keep my word," Harry assured him. "The price may bs heavier than you have reckoned on," observed John Beldon warn- ingly. "I tave not calculated the cost," replied Harry coldly. "But you must know the consequences of acting in direct defiance of my will?" con- tinued John Beldon. Harry remained eilcnt. "There can be only one result," added John Beldon. "You are too proud or stub- born to ask? Well, you must choose between this girl and disinheritance!" "Very well, father," answered Harry, quietly, "I shaH marry Sylvia." Again John Beldon reeled slightly; but resting his hand on the edge of the table near him he said, "I wish you to think it over. You are not quite fit at present to come to such a serious decision." "My mind is made up," Harry assured him. "Absolutely?" asked John Beldon, in a low voice. I "Absolutely," Harry sorrowfully assured him. "I would rather you came to me to-mor- row," said John Beldon almost wistfully, "or even a week hence." "I go to sea to-morrow," Harry told him, "and my answer then, or next week, would be precisely the same as it is now." "You are positively certain?" asked John Beldon. "You will not even take till to- morrow to think the matter over calmly." "To-morrow," said Harry by way of an- swer, "I go to sea." John Beldon pressed {'1e button of a bell at the fireplace, then he slowly walked back to his chair and reseated himself. When the door opened and a footman appeared he had been apparently reading, for he held the newspaper in his hand and was wearing his spectacles. "Tell Brooks to have the carriage round in half an hour to drive to the station," he said. "Mr. Harry is unexpectedly going to sea this afternoon." "Yes, sir," replied the man quietly. Harry had buttoned his coat. You need not trouble about the carriage," he said, ad- dressing the man, "I will walk. Without saying another word or looking at his father he left the room. Ten minutes later John Beldon saw him, clad in a greatcoat and carrying a small kit bag, swing past the window, with head erect and a hard-set face. Again John Beldon breathed heavily, and with a long sigh his head sank upon his breast. (To be continued. )