Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 24, Number 34, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 17 February 1894 — Page 7

AN ADEQUATE REASON

His name was George Carew, and at ths time of which I write he was a

yKteamer

passenger on board the Royal Mail Cobra on her homeward voyage from Buenos Ayres to Southampton. It was late in the year, and the passengers were comparatively few. 1 cannot with truth say that Carew was a general favorite on board. He was taciturn aa a rule, and when he was not taciturn he was apt to be dogmatic.

Among the male passengers he waB usually spoken of as "a decent fellow enough, but queer." The feminine portion of the community thought—or said they thought him uninteresting. Among their number was a tall, pretty blond, who had gradually pierced the armor of his reserve,and in whose company he had von been seen to smile. They became very good friends—so much so in fined uh to draw down upon the young lady's head various maternal lectures on the folly of encouraging young men who were nobodies. But as Carew, of course, did not hear these lecturcs, and as Miss Ida Lennox was a eelf willed young person, their friendship suffered no interruption.

There was a certain Mrs. JBouverio on board, an extremely handsome widow, in whom Carew, for some unknown reason, had aroused a violent dislike. Sho was clever as well as handsome, but was possessed of a passionate and somewhat uncertain temper which last, however, in virtue of her many counterbalancing good qualities, was mniversally condoned.

One evening at dinner Mrs. Bouverie was expatiating to those nearest to her on the value and antiquity of a very curious and beautiful ring which she wore, and which she had picked up in a tour through Italy. She affirmed it to be at least 800 years old. It wasabroad gold band, chased richly and with marvelous delicacy and set all round at regular intervals with largo diamonds of exquisite brilliancy. Inside were two capital letters, N. C., each letter formed of tiny seed pearlsBunlc into the gold. Mrs. Bouverie, who was of a romantic turn, was of opinion that it had been an ancient betrothal ring. There was a half effaced date inside, which tho widow's right hand neighbor, a pale, consumptive looking clergyman, was in vain trying to decipher through a small magnifying glass. Presently a lady opposite begged to be allowed to examine the ring, and from her it was passed from hand to hand pretty well up and down flie length of tho table.

But, Ktrange-to «ay, it did not come buck to its owner. It. had apparently disappeared. Every one declared it had passed safely out of his or her hands. Where was it then? There was a great commotion, of course ev erybody rose, and a thorough search Was made, on and under tho table and from one end to tho other of tho long •aloon.

Tho ring, however, was not forthcoming. Its owner had by this time become somewhat excited, and a rather disagreeable scene ensued. In point of fact, Mrs. Bouverie insinuated that gome one had appropriated her ring. Upon this, some of tho malo passengers angrily suggested that, if Mrs.Bouverie entertained suspicions of that nature, all pnsent had better turn out their poekets. To this proposition there was a general assent.

All resumed their seats, and there Was hurried disentombing of keys, (letters, pocket handkerchiefs, etc., but no ring.

Carew, to the surprise of all, quietly refused to exhibit tho contonts of his pockets. "But. merely as a matter of form, Mr. Carew," expostulated the captain.

The young man, however, repeated Ids refusal courteously, but inoie inflexibly, if anything, than before.

There was an awkward silence. Then Mrs. Bouverie forgot herself. "May 1 ask, sir," she said, addressing Carew in an excited tono, "why you refuse to do ae all your follow passengers have done?" "Yon may, madam," was tho brief and haughty answer. "Well, sir. and why not?"

1'Because

1 1: ve a very special reason

for not doing MJ. ho answered in a •arefully repressed voice. "And that reason?" "1 fear 1 must decline to givo it," be answered yuietlv, but with an ominous tlash in his gray eyes. "Then you are aware of tho imputation your r« tusal easts upon your character?" inquired the lady scornfully. "That is a matter of the utmost indifference to me." was the icy answer.

But the speaker's hand, as it lay upon the table, opened and shut in a quick, •eivous fashion which showed that he was less unmoved than ho looked.

Whereupon Mrs. Bouverie waxed more and more indiscreet, and all but accused Carew of having tho ring in kis posssesiou. "Airs. Bouverie. Mrs. Bouverie,"remonstrated the captain, "this is really sot quite fair."

Hero Carew, who had been growing whiter every moment, roso from his •eat. "I regret that yon should havesach an opinion of me us your words imply, Mrs. Bouverie," he said iu a queer, uncertain voice. "May suggest that

iu drop tho subject for the present? temper is not all that it might be, and 1 should be sorry to be guilty of discourtesy to a lady."

Then ho left the saloon and went on deck. After this day, however. Carew obaerved a gradual bnt marked uitfVrenee in his fellow passengers' demeanor toward him. His greetings w. \e iw iv, •©Idly, though with scrupnlva* oiiL

Groups begau to iM

away at his approach, or his. ,n". ws, a signal for a dead silence. If this general boycotting rt 1 the obje of it id no I simply withdrew into linns?-if a. 1

©voided other people as deliberately as they avoided him. To only one person did he make an advances, and he only made them once. It was in this way:

Early one morning he was standing looking moodily to leeward, when he suddenly became aware that Miss Lennox had come on deck and was leaning against one of the doors of the covered stairway. Their eyes met. She blushed deeply, made a half hesitating movement of her head—which might have meant a morning salutation or might not—and turned away. But Carew took steps toward her. "One moment. Miss Lennox," he said in an odd voice. "Will you tell me why you have avoided me so persistently during the last few days?"

Avoided you she stammered awkwardly enough. "Oh—I, really—notai all. But—but"

Carew smiled slowly, but his lips were pale. "1 beg your pardon," he said quietly. Then he lifted his cap and walked away.

As he did so he saw one of the male passengers grinning from behind an abnormally large cigar. He did not pitch the youth overboard, but he could have done so with pleasure.

After this little episode, Carew was, if possible, more ostracised than ever. Only tho captain treated him with comparative cordiality. But as the days went on he, too, became less kind, especially after one forenoon when he opened to Carew the matter in hand. Tho young man cut him short at once. "I don't care to discuss the thing. You can believe what your passengers seem to believe, or you can let it alone. It is nothing to me."

Captain North

shrugged

his shoulders

and walked off. Carew laughed. His laugh was short, though, and bitter. If this suspected young man had been anybody in particular it is possible they might not have been so hard upon him. But as he was simply Georgo Carew, with nothing beyond an average good looking face and well set up figure to recommend him, and as, moreover, his clothes had a look of having seen better days and were by no means of the latest cut, ho was clearly not an acquaintance to be regretted.

At dinner that night Carew found himself next a small, gray clad young woman, with a pale, serious faco and a smooth, birdlike head of dark brown hair. She had also, as ho absently noted, exquisitely shaped hands. He had never entered into conversation with the little woman indeed he had hardly been aware of her existence beyond hearing tho captain address her once or twice as Miss Neville.

As ho took his seat besido her tonight, however, she said in a low, clear voice. "Good evening, Mr. Carew." -It was so many days since any of the lady passengers had addressed him at all that ho actually started. "I beg your pardon?" he said. "I only said good evening." the girl in gray made answer, looking up at him with a littlo smile.

Then he noticed that her teeth were very pretty and her eyes very satisfactory indeed. Before he had time to speak, she went on: "The captain says that before many days we shall be in tho bay of Biscay. I have not crossed it since I was a little child. I suppose it will bo frightfully rough?" "I think it is more than likely." he answered, gazing steadily at his plate.

Whereupon they drifted into a subdued, friendly conversation which lasted till the end of tho meal. Carew was not a particularly soft hearted fellow, but it touched him strangely—this milooked for partisanship. It gave him a queer, unwonted lump in his throat and mado him feel womanish, which annoyed him.

Next morning he saw the girl in gray on deck. She was standing quite still, watching the screaming sea birds that flow and dipped astern. Her pale, serious littlo face already seemed- to him like tho faco of a friend. As he passed her with slight bow she turned, held out her hand and bade him a cheery good morning, supplementing it by some trilling remark regarding the weather. He stopped, answered her and stood besido her for a minute or two. Then he flung away his cigar and leaned his arm on the railing.

His companion scanned his face swiftly and covertly. She thought he looked dispirited, and sho felt for him, for she was a tender hearted little woman.

They talked on indifferent subjects until luncheon and repeated the process between that meal and dinner and also in the eveuing. And so it came to pass that Carew began to look upon this small, gray clad creature as his one friend in all his present world. He learned a great deal about her from her half unconscious confidences—among other things that her Christian name was Joyce,and that she was an orphan, and that sho had known trouble. But she learned little or nothing about him.

The Cobra touched at Corunna, where cno or two Englishmen came on board. Then came the redoubtable bay of Biscay.

On the night they left Corunna there was a glorious moon, under the rays of which Miss Neville and Carew were walking up and down on deck.

Tho steamer was rolling a great deal, and he had offered her his arm, which she had accepted. She treated hiin in a frank, unembarrassed fashion, almost as a sister might have done—and he? Well, men are susceptible, you know, and I am bound to say his feelings to her were not altogether those of a brother.

When they had taken a few turns in silence, she said suddenly, "Mr. Carew, we seem to have become such good friends by this time that should like to say something to you which otherwise I should not presume to say."

She looked up at him aa she spoke, and he looked down at her. "You know you may say anything you please to me," he said, with a cantos lingering tenderness in his voices "You won't think it a liberty, will jroo?" she wont on.

"I shall assuredly not think it a liberty," was the brief answer. Certainly her eyes were very lovely. They thrilled him through and through. "I want to ask you, then," she said somewhat nervously, "why you allow those people to believe what they believe about your"

She felt him wince slightly. There was a silence. The monotonous throbbing of the engines amidships mingled with floating scraps of half heard talk and laughter.

Then Carew said in a hard, bitter voice: Unfortunately I am not responsible for their beliefs, Miss Neville. Besides, what they believe of me may be true. 1 am—pardon me—an utter stranger to you you have no reason to believe in my innocence." "I do believe in your innocence, though," she murmured, an excited thrill running through her voice. "May 1 ask why?" He spoke clearly, but she felt his arm tremble under her hand.

For one swift moment she looked up at him, and her eyes were full of tears. But he did not see them, for he wa9 gazing straight before him. "Why?" she repeated, with a curious sobbing little laugh. "Because 1 —know!"

A minute later she was gone, and he was watching the last flutter of her gown disappearing in the direction of the stairway.

Late that night Carew sat in his cabin, leaning his elbows on his knees, and staring earnestly at something he held between his fingers, something that twinkled and sparkled as the light of the electric lamp fell upon it. It was a broad gold gipsy ring, richly chased, and set at intervals with large diamonds. Inside were two Roman letters formed of tiny seed pearls.

For two days after that it blew a pretty fair gale. It rained a good deal, too, at intervals and such of the passengers as were not violently seasick in their berths kept to the saloon or the music room, with the exception of two or three hardy males, of whom Carew was one.

As he passed the door of tho stairway toward the evening of the second day, he saw Miss Neville, who had just struggled so far, and was clinging to the door to windward. She was looking white and ill, he thought, but when he told her so sho only laughed. "Do you care to come for a turn?" he said. "It doesn't rain now, and 1 will take good care you don't fall," he added.

She consented, but the steamer was pitching so heavily that aftc^r a few turns Miss Neville said sho would rather sit down.

So Carew provided her with a sheltered seat, brought a warm rug to wrap about her feet and seated himself beside her. It was now almost dark. A few Btars shone here and there in the stormy sky.

The wind shrieked and whistled drearily. The deck was deserted. For quite a long time both were silent. Then Carew said in a half whisper: ,, "You are trembling. You are not afraid of the storm, are you It is nothing for the bay. I assure you.' "No—1 am not afraid." "You feel quite sa% here with me?" he went on, sinking his voice lower yet. "Yes," she answered somewhat tremulously.

After a pause he laid his ind on hers as it rested on her knee and said in an odd, deliberate kind of way "Will you let me take care of you always? I mean as my wife. I have grown to love you very dearly, and 1 think I could make you happy."

For perhaps a minute there was utter silence. Then Carew withdrew his hand, saying hastily and in an indefinably changed voice: "Ah! you do not care for me. Perhaps it is as well, and perhaps I had no right to ask you to do so. I forgot for a moment that I am a man under a cloud—a cloud that in all probability will never be lifted, for I tell you honestly 1 have no means of righting myself. Forget what I have said." The words and tone were hardly loverlike, but there was a slight, ainmrt imperceptible quiver in the deep voice.

A small hand stole softly into his. "I do care for you, "saida happy little voice, "and 1 would take your word against all the world."

Another pause. Carew did not even

garshly.

ress the hand ho held. Then he said "But suppose 1 cannot give you my word Suppose I tell you that I am what our fellow passengers think I am?" "1 should not believe you, was the confident answer. "But if 1 tell you that you must believe me?" His face as he looked down was very pale and wore an expression she could hardly fathom.

She uttered a half suppressed little cry, but she did not take her hand away—only nestled it farther into his.

He grasped it almost painfully then let it go. "Foolish, trusting little woman," he •aid in a strange voice. "Must I give you proof that your trust is—misplaced?"

He held out his other hand to her. In its palm lay the ring. Even in the dim light she recognized it at once.

There was a curious, breathless pause, during which Carew never took his eyes from the girl's face.

Well he quietly said at last. He felt her little fingers close tightly on hia. "1 can't help It," she said brokenly. "I love you—I love you." •'And will you be my wife?"

She could not see his face, but his voice shook. "Yes," she whispered, hiding her face in both her hands.

But tho hands were gently drawn. In the semi darkness she felt bis arm coino about her, and his mustache farosh her lips. "Darling," he murmured passionately, "you shall never regret it—I

TERRE HA DTE SATURDAY EVENING MAIL, FEBRUARY 17, 1894. 7

•wear," and in his eyes glittered something that looked like tears.

Next morning one of the Englishmen who had come on board at Corunna, and who had been ill ever since, appeared on deck. As it happened, the first person he saw was Carew.

They greeted each other cordially, and after the fashion of old friends. T^hia Englishman, by the way, was a Veil known statesman, and a very good fellow besides.

In the smoking room that afteroonn some one kindly put him on his guard as to Carew and supplied the details. "I thought I would mention it, you know," appended the man who had spoken. "1 saw you speaking to him awhile ago." "Thank you," was the dry answer. "I've known George Carew for a good many

years.

I think I have a pretty

good idea of his idiosyncrasies, and I don't think annexing other people's •property is one of them. By the way, you may not have heard that he has come into the title and is now Lord Evandale. 1 though I'd mention it, you know," he added with a somewhat grim smile.

In the silence that followed, the speaker lit a fresh cigar, rose and went out.

I blush to have to relate that during the remainder of that day a good many of the Cobra's passengers became suddenly imbued with the conviction of Carew's—or rather Lord Evandale's— innocence and evidenced as much. How their overtures were received perhaps 1 need not say.

Joyce Neville was a little shy with her lover when she .knew. But in the course of a starlit walk on deck he made that all right. She, it seemed, had had the idea that he was rather obscure and hard up than otherwise, at which confession he was a good deal touched.

I think it was on the evening before the Cobra got into Southampton that* the head steward made a startling discovery. Mrs. Bouverie's ring was found in a distant corner of the saloon, where it had been effectually concealed by an upstanding corner of the carpet.

Captain North publicly restored the ring to its owner that night at dinner. There was a very uncomfortable silence for a few moments. Every one had an awkward kind of feeling that some sort of apology should be made to the haughty looking young man who was at present helping Miss Neville to claret. And every one had an equally awkward conviction that any apology or any explanation whatsoever would be worse than impossible.

Tho subject of their thoughts, however, forestalled anything of the kind. There was something rather fine in his appearance just then, as he leaned back in his chair and threw a keen glance first up and then down the table. "As Mrs. Bouverie is now, I hope, satisfied that I did not steal her ring," he said, in a cold, clear voice that penetrated to every corner of the long saloon, "I will explain my reason for reing to turn out my pockets as the of you did. I possess a ring which is the exact facsimile of that possessed by Mrs. Bouverie, and as I had the ring in my pocket on the evening in question I naturally objected to its being mistaken for any other one's property. You are all at liberty to examine it, if Miss Neville chooses." As he spoke, he turned and slipped the double" of Mrs. Bouverie's ring on the third finger of Joyce Neville's left hand. The look which accompanied the action spoke volumes.

There was a pause of intense astonishment then a babel of excited and wondering exclamations, in the midst of which Lord Evandale rose and went out on deck.

The rings were identical, with one exception—in one the initials were N. C. in the other, C. N.

Mrs.Bouverie looked crushed and unhappy, for of all things she dearly loved a lord. There was weeping and

tashing of teeth, too, in the cabin of Lennoxes.—Montreal Star.

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