Rensselaer Republican, Volume 15, Number 50, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 23 August 1883 — A COUNTERPLOT. [ARTICLE]

A COUNTERPLOT.

Jack Freeder accepted an invitation to shoot at his cousin’s place in Norfolk, for the express purpose of “making the running”—to use his own familiar phrase—with Miss Gwendoline Durand, who happened to be staying there on a visit. He had met the young lady once or twice, and flattered himself he had •created a favorable impression. Though he honestly admired her, the fact was he was chiefly attracted by her fortune, which was considerable. Jack was a light-hearted subaltern in a crack regiment, with a slender allowance, shadowy expectations and a large crop •of debts. The prospect of securing an heiress for a wife was far from disagreeable, especially as Miss Durand was undeniably handsome, while her iamily and sooiaTconnections left nothing to be desired. Considering that Jack Freeder had been petted and spoiled all his life, by men and women alike, it is not unnatural that he should have looked forward with tblerable confidence to securing Miss Durand’s hand. He took a fortnight’s leave, with the firm conviction that he would return to Mudboro, where his regiment was stationed, an ■engaged man. Miss Durand received him pleasantly enough, though she did not appear the least embarrassed or flustered at his unexpected arrival. Jack noted the faot without misgivings, yet with some surprise. He wondered it did not strike her that his deliberately following up their ball-room acquaintance was very significant. He resolved, however, to open her eyes without delay, and with that object he commenced to pay her marked attentions. At first the young lady seemed amused, and responded in a similar vein of exaggerated politeness. Probably she thought this was his usual manner; and the mistake was natural, because Jack’s ball-room conversation —with which alone Miss Durand had hitherto been regaled —bordered on perpetual flirtation. But after awhile it apparently began to dawn upon her that he was in earnest, and the discovery had the effect of making her strangely reticent and cautious. She studiously avoided those confidential little tete-a-tetes which Jack was constantly maneuvring to bring about, and, in fact, showed in a very marked manner that she anticipated liis matrimonial aspirations and wished to keep him at a distance. It took Jack some days to realize Miss Durand’s attitude. He attributed her sudden reticence to shyness, and, upon the whole, considered it a favorable symptom. But the true state of the case became so obvious that even the blindness of his conceit could not ■conceal from him that the young lady ■did not favor his pretentions" He felt mori ” piqued than he cared to own, even to himself ,*• but he was a good fellow at heart and did not harbor resentment. He bore disappointment like a man, and revenged himself upon his cousin’s pheasants. I>ut, of course, his interest in Miss Durand ceased, and, as she seemed anxious to avoid him, he naturally did not force his society ‘upon her. The consequence was that a coldness sprang up between them, and when his leave came to an end Jack felt no inclination to prolong his visit. On the morning of his intended departure he was struck by the look of embarrassment upon Miss Durand’s face when they rqet at breakfast). She returned his salutation nervously, and a pink flush mounted to her cheeks when she happened .to encounter his gaze. While he was idly speculating what could be the cause of this sudden •emotion, some one at the table referred to him on the subject of the day’s amusements. “I’m sorry I shan’t be able to join Jon,” said Jack. “I must return to [udboro this afternoon.” His cousin and the guests assembled at the table made good-humored protests, but Jack pleaded duty, and was not to be persuaded. Miss Durand aaid nothing, but he oould not help fancying she was ill at ease. “At all events, stay till after luncheon, and we can try our luck over Bayley's farm this morning,” urged Ins -cousin. % “Very well,” said Jackp lightly, but •still keeping an eve on Miss Durand. M 1 must positively catch the 4 o’clock train, else I shan’t get to Mudboro tonight, and there will be a row on if I overstay my leave." 1

Nothing more was said on the subject, and Miss Durand somewhat abruptly rose and left the table. Jack did not know'what to make of h<*» conduct, and could only suppose that his approaching departure was the cause of the young lady’s emotion, {t seemed hardly credible, bat the explanation commended itself to Jack’s vanity, and he could think of nothing all the morning. When the shooting-party returned to the'house, he hastened to throw himself in Miss Durand’s way. If further observation confirmed Ins suspicions, there was yet time before he left to turn the circumstance to account. The young lady appeared, however, to have recovered her composure, and joined freely in the general conversation without showing the least consciousness of Jack’s presence. He therefore reluctantly came to the eondlusion that the pleasant flutter of excitement which had haunted him all the morning was based upon a delusion. After luncheon he wasVnoving off with the other men, when he was arrested by the clear tones of Miss Durand. “What time do you leave here this afternoon, Mr. Freeder ?” she inquired. “By the 4 o’clock train. I suppose I must start from here about a quarter of an hour earlier,” he answered, surprised at the question. f “What time is it now?” she inquired. “Twenty minutes past 2,” he replied, glancing at his watch. “Can Ibe of any service to you, Miss Durand ?” he added, noticing that she appeared to hesitate. “I was going to ask—as you will be unable to go with the others—whether you would mind driving Reggie and me into Bilohester?" said Miss Dnrand, ratheii hurriedly. “It is his birthday to-morrow, and I promised him <a cricket-bo,t.” “Certainly,” said Jack, considerably taken aback by her asking a favor of him; while the young schoolboy alluded to expressed his unqualified approval of the arrangement. “We can get there and back in an hour easily,” added Miss Durand. “I want particularly to go to-day, or I would*not trouble you.” “I shall only be too delighted. lam not sure, though, whether we can do it in time,” he added, suddenly recollecting that Bilchester was four miles off in the opposite direction from the station. “I ought to be back here at 3:30.” “Why need you come back? We can take your portmanteau with us and drive straight to the station for Bilchester,’’ said Miss Durand. Jack was not in a mood to raise difficulties, and at once proceeded to make necessary arrangements. His man had already packed his portmanteau, and Jack took upon himself to order the dog-cart instead of the phaeton, in order to be able to travel more quickly. With the same object, he dispensed with the services of the groom, directing him to meet them at the station to drive Miss Durand back. He would gladly have found an excuse to leave Master Reggie behind also, but that young gentleman took possession of the back-seat the instant the conveyance was driven round, and Jack instinctively felt that if he attempted to dislodge him Miss Dnrand would interfere. The young lady speedily made her appearance, looking particularly charming, Jack thought, on account of her flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes. After taking a hurried farewell of the host and hostess, Jack assisted Miss Durand to her seat, and the party started off. His fair companion was animated and'lively, and kept up a brisk flow of conversation. Her remarks were generally addressed to Master Reggie; but Jack was too much occupied at first with the vagaries of the fresh little mare in the shafts to notice anything else. When the animal settled down into * a steady trot, the young man began to pull himself together and to endeavor to give the conversation a sentimental turn. In this, however, he was not very successful, for Miss Durand refused to take his remarks seriously, and persisted in encouraging Master Reggie to talk. Jack hated that boy on the spot, and felt inclined to snub him unmercifully, though he wisely refrained. But the upshot was that they reached Bilohester before he had the least opportunity of a confidential chat with Miss Durand, though her manner toward him was more conciliatory and encouraging than it had been since the first day of his arrival. It was getting on for Wf-past 3 when they eame in sight of the clock in the market-place at Bilchester, and Jack drew attention to the fact. Miss Durand promised to use the utmost dispatch in executing her commissions, and reassured him by the information that she knew a cross-road which would enable them to reach the station in a quarter of a hour. She would not hear of his accompanying her, but started off under Reggie’s escort, saying she would rejoin him in five minutes. It was nearer twenty, however, when she reappeared, and under the circumstances Jack may be excused for growing somewhat impatient; but the young lady’s profuse apologies disarmed his irritation and restored his equanimity. Reggie being absorbed in admiring his new cricket-bat, which he handle'd with pride, Jack was able to obtain Miss Durand’s undivided attention, and proceeded cautiously to lead up to the subject nearest his heart. Mis* Durand gave him no direct encouragement, but did not attempt to stop him until he was on the point of making a formal declaration, when she suddenly exclaimed : “Oh, Mr. Freeder I I’m so sorry, but I fear this is the wrong road.” Jack had taken the turning she had

ladicated on leaving the town and contented himself with keeping the mare at a brisk trot without any misgivings about reaching its destination. He now began to look about him, and a fingerpost which had apparently informed Miss Durand of her mistake conveyed the unpleasant intimation that he had driven a couple of miles out of his road. “By Jove!” exclaimed Jack, glancing around, “Can’t we get on? Is there nothing for it but to turn back ?” “Fm afraid not. This is the Tiverton road,” remarked Miss Durand, who seemed much concerned. “Then I can’t possibly get to Mudboro to-night—that’s quite certain,” said Jack referring to his watch. "A steam engine would hardly get me to the station in time.” However, Jack was of a philosophical temperament and did not suffer trifling mishaps to annoy him. Beside, he was rather glad to have a little more time at his disposal, now that he seemed to be making progress with his courtship. But he soon found that Miss Dnrand was not in a mood to continue their conversation. Whether she was tired, or whether she felt embarrassed at the consequence of her mistake, she became silent and dignified, and, when Jack endeavored to overoome her'reticence, she once more induced Reggie to join in the talk. The consequence was that by the time they reached Marsham Hall Jack’s good humor had evaporated, and the interview with his Colonel on the morrow was unpleasantly prominent in his mind. He did not even have the consolation of enjoying Miss Durand’s society for the rest ot the day, as the young lady went straight to her room on reaching the house, and sent word shortly afterward that she had a bad headache and would not appear at dinner. This circumstance (lid not improve Jack’s temper, for he could not help feeling that Miss'Dnrand wished to avoid him. He did not see her again, for she was absent from the breakfast-talxle the next morning, and he therefore started off in a very disgusted and disappointed frame of mind. When he reached Mudboro’ and reported himself to his Colonel, he was agreeably surprised at receiving a very slight reprimand, and soon discovered that his brother officers were all in a great state of excitement on account of a dastardly attempt to blow up the officers’ quarters the night before. It appeared that a tin canister, containing some explosive substance, had been placed on the window-sill of the messroom, and from the fuse attached to it being half-burnt, it was evident that it had been fired. Chance alone had averted a fearful catastrophe. It flashed across Jack’s mind wlien he heard the news that, if the explosion had taken place, he would probably have owed his safety to the accident of having missed the train. * Jack was very much impressed by the coincidence, for it really seemed as ,though Miss Durand had interposed to save him from a threatened danger. But for her he would not have missed his train; and it was very singular that she should have influenced his movements on that particular day. Of course, the idea was ridiculous, for how could the young lady have known what was about to take place at the barracks at Mudboro’? But Jack was rather superstitious by nature; and il was pleasant to imagine that he was an object of solicitude to Miss Durand. And, upon reflection, it occurred to him that her demeanor certainly gave color to the suspicion that she had purposely delayed his departure. Her confusion when he announced his intention of leaving, her sudden freak of asking him to drive her to Bilchester when he was on the point of starting, and her strange carelessness in misdirecting him on the way to the station seemed to indicate that he had been the victim of a conspiracy. '"lf this were so, it was evident that Miss Durand had a deeper regard for him than her manner showed, and he felt that he had made a vital discovery. Jack was not <the sort of a young fellow to throw away his chances, and his natural impulse was to up the idea, which seemed like a revelation. He sat down immediately and wrote the young lady an account of what had taken place* expressing in sentimental terms his deep sense of obligation to her, and asking for. an explanation of the mystery. His first idea was to return to Norfolk and seek an interview, but he came to the conclusion that it would be more politic to judge of Miss Durand’s feelings toward him by her reply to his letter. Jack awaited this with the greatest anxiety and-hopefulness, and during the interval it transpired that the affair at the barracks was an imbecile trick of a halfwitted trooper who had onoe been Jack’s servant, the contents of the canister being found quite harmless. A day or two afterwards he heard from the young lady, who wrote as follows: Dear Mr. Freeder: We were all very much shocked to hear of the wicked attempt described in vour letter, and are sincerely glad that it failed. I have a humiliating confession to make to you, whion will explain what you wish to know. On the morning yon were to have left here my maid carelessly handed me a letter addressed to you among my own. I opened it and glanced at the tew lines it contained before I discoveied the mistake, and I was then bo vexed and angry at what I had done that, on the Impulse of the moment, I threw it on the lira When it was destroyed it occurred to me that it might he of some ■importance to you and I recalled to mind" the contents, of which I had not hitherto taken in the sense It appeared to be an anonymouß letter warai> g you not to return to the barracks that night, and when you stated at breakfast that you were leaving that day (of which I was not previously aware) I was very much startled and frightened. I could not bring myself to confess -the truth, and I therefoxe adopted an unworthy subterfuge to keep you here an-

other night Had you started when you originally Intended, I should never have forgiven myself If anything had-happened to you. • . 'l. “I was very miserable and ashamed at the time at my decei , and have been ever since I hoped yon would never suspect what I had done; but as yon have gueseed that I purpur posely made yon miss your train, I think It better to explain the reason. Pray accept my humhte apologies, and keep my secret. In return,‘l will oontde to yon another secret, which I think, perhaps, yon shonld be told. lam < ngaged to be married to a clergyman: but, as he Is at present only a curate, and I am a ward of the Court of Chancery, there are difficulties in the way of our marriage, so .that, by the advioc of my guardians, the engagement is being kept secret until matters are arranged. After this explanations you will unders and that my incivility toward you did not arise from any want of kindly feeling; and I hope, in spite of the deception I practiced upon you about the letter, you will always consider me, your sincere friend, Gwendoline Dcnuta —London Truth .