Washington Standard

A Daughter's History.

BARRETT SYLVESTER.

"A FATAL MISTAKE."

CHAPTER XIII.

ARRESTED.

It wanted a few days of the expiration of the time young Henry Mason had allotted to himself for his honeymoon. It was his custom to visit the factory once a week to see how matters progressed and to give any necessary orders about the work. The last day came and I went to Belmont on his weekly inspection. He drove from the depot to the factory slowly and, alighting from his buggy, proceeded to tie the horse. While he was thus engaged a gentleman came from the office and, walking up to him, tapped him lightly on the shoulder.

Ah, Valentine, is it you? said Mr. Mason, turning and recognizing the assistant book-keeper. The man's face wore an anxious look and his lips twitched nervously. It seemed difficult for him to speak.

"Sir—Mr. Mason," he said tremulously, "there is something wrong. The old gentleman has returned from Europe, and—"

"Returned!" exclaimed Henry Mason.

"Yes, day before yesterday. He says he cannot understand what you have done in his absence. On learning of your marriage, he seemed terribly angry, and swore like a trooper. Yesterday he looked over the books. I stood near by. Happening to glance up about fifteen minutes after he had commenced I noticed that he was deadly pale, as if with fright or sudden illness. But, knowing what a temper he has when aroused, I said nothing, and presently he went out. Soon, however, he came back, accompanied by one of the hands. To my astonishment, he told the man to put the ledgers and account books on the small hand truck as he handed them to him. The man did so, and took the whole lot away. I have not seen Mr. Mason since. I am afraid there is something wrong, sir."

"Upon my soul, it looks so," ejaculated the junior partner, as the two stepped into the office. "What one of the hands did Mr. Mason take away with him yesterday?"

"Atkinson."

"Call Atkinson down."

The book-keeper went to the speaking tube near his desk and called for Atkinson. Reply came that the man was not in the building, and had not been since about noon of the day before.

"I can't understand it, sir, at all," said the gray-haired book-keeper, anxiously. "God grant there is nothing wrong. My wife is in ill-health and, if I should lose my place, I'm afraid it would go hard with us."

Henry Mason laughed lightly.

"Don't get frightened, Valentine. It's nothing serious, I guess. And if it is, I'd stake my life you are blameless. However, mistakes are likely to occur in the best regulated business houses. I'll see father and learn the trouble, if there is any."

He got into the buggy again and drove off. But he did not stop in the village. He drove directly to the railroad station. The train was not due for some little time, and he was forced to wait. Buttoning up his coat, he walked impatiently up and down the platform.

Mrs. Henry Mason had determined to surprise her husband on his return from Belmont, and, accordingly, invited a number of his friends to spend the evening at the Telegraph street residence. She also invited Mr. and Mrs. Remington. The latter had come on immediately they received the word, and Mrs. Remington, with more animation than she had shown in years, took the occasion offered to have a few words with her daughter.

"Nellie, dear," she said, while Mr. Remington was up stairs enjoying a cigar, "I cannot thank you too much for your generosity in getting back our home. You have helped us so wonderfully that it seems like a dream."

"Mother," said Nellie, kissing the cheek of her parent, "I did all for your sake and father's, but I did it that you might learn what a little sacrifice could do. While I supposed I was selling myself to please others, I imagined you might follow my example and giving up that which poisons."

"Have I not done so?"

"Yes, I believe you have."

"It was a hard struggle, but I think I am free once again, and being free, my affection for your father has returned. Ah, he seems now to love me as much as ever. Poor man, how he must have suffered."

Nellie sighed.

"But you say, child, that you sold yourself," continued her mother. "I have feared such might be the case, but, with my usual selfishness, I have never troubled myself about it."

Nellie's face lighted up with a bright smile.

"Ah, mother, you need fear nothing on my account. If I did sell myself I begin now to think the bargain a fair one."

The conversation was interrupted at this point by the entrance of several invited guests. Mrs. Mason rose to welcome them. She looked more beautiful than ever on this night, for she was more becomingly dressed. A close-fitting silk showed her superb figure to advantage. In her ears hung pendants of the purest diamonds, and her hair was looped with a massive gold band. Her grace and wit soon put the gentlemen in the best of spirits, and as she moved about the room conversing on the various topics of society, all eyes followed her.

Presently Mr. Mason came in. Looking toward the door Nellie caught sight of him before he had stood there a minute, and went immediately to him. He seemed uncertain whether to enter or retreat.

"You are surprised, are you not?" asked his wife, with a winning smile. Then she noticed the care-worn and abstracted air which he wore.

"Why, how miserable you look, Henry, dear!" she exclaimed. "Are you ill?"

"No, I am tired."

"How sorry I am. And I got up a pleasant little party to entertain you."

Her anxious tones seemed to arouse him.

"Well, Nell, there is no reason why I should not be entertained. Give us some music while I go up stairs and arrange my toilet. I'll be with you in five minutes."

When he returned to the drawing room, Nellie was at the piano, accompanying herself while she sang a well-known air. Henry Mason watched her at a distance and his face exhibited the pleasure the sight of her beauty gave him.

"My wife is the handsomest woman on earth," he murmured. "She is fit for a king's palace. And I believe she begins to love me. Ah, if father could see her, he might think us less to blame."

He entertained the company during the evening with a pause in the music and a witty story now and then. Henry Mason turned at the sound of the bell. That was what his wife noticed. "Henry, what?" But before she could finish the question she was about to ask, two men entered the room. They were accompanied by Jed, the farm hand of old farmer Boyd. "That's him," said Jed as he pointed his finger at Mason—"that's him that almost nearly knocked the life out of me." The officers advanced and took their place beside Mr. Mason while the dumbfounded guests followed their movements with wondering eyes.

"Henry Mason," said one of the officers, "I arrest you in the name of the law."

"Arrest me," repeated the young man slowly. "On what charge?"

"On the charge of embezzlement."

"Preferred by whom?"

"Mr. Henry Mason, Sr., of the firm of Mason & Son."

A wild cry rang through the room as the officer finished speaking, and, with a face as white as the driven snow, the fair bride of a few weeks sprang forward and threw herself at Henry Mason's feet.

"Henry—Henry!" she cried. "For Heaven's sake, speak the truth. Have you done this dreadful act?"

Trembling as with the palsy, Henry Mason shrunk back.

"Speak, Henry, are you guilty," cried the almost frantic girl.

"No," he groaned almost inaudibly, "no, I am innocent."

"Liar!" exclaimed a voice from the hallway. "Liar! black-hearted liar!"

Richard Martin stood in the room. He was as pale as his niece, and a fearful light shone in his eye, giving him the appearance almost of a madman.

"Henry Mason, you have robbed your father—your benefactor," he almost shrieked—"you have robbed him to marry the woman with whom you are infatuated. You have dragged her fair name down by your selfishness. You have dishonored her, when she might have married a man who would have loved her and cared for her without using fraudulent means, or who would have been content to remain lonely and loveless to the end of his days, so long as she was happy. But you, wretch, you have destroyed her life forever. Yet, by the eternal Heaven, you shall answer to me for the foul deed. I'll snap your thread of existence. I'll see that you'll trouble her no more."

With a quick movement, Richard Martin darted forward, and, ere the officers could stay him, he had their prisoner by the throat. A terrible struggle ensued, but it was of short duration, for the officers were more than a match for Richard Martin, who soon was in the hands of two of the guests. Nellie Mason had risen to her feet at the entrance of her uncle, and through this terrible scene she stood as if rooted to the spot, uttering not a word. But now, overcome by her emotions, she turned to go to her dazed parents, staggered forward and fell to the floor, in a heap.

Mr. Remington, with forehead black as midnight, walked to Henry Mason, and, taking from his pocket a document, rent it into a thousand pieces.

"That is the end of the deed to get which my daughter sold herself to a libertine—a thief."

Saying which he covered his face with his hands and wept like a child. Mrs. Remington bent sorrowfully over her daughter and endeavored with the assistance of others to get her upon her feet.

"Oh, let me die—let me die," sobbed Nellie—"my life is but a curse; let me die."

And these words rung in Henry Mason's ears time and again after that dreadful night. They were the last words he heard as he was led from the elegantly appointed house to the dreary prison.

BE CONTINUED.