THE SECRETS OF THE PENNY POST.
"_Carmela Cotoner to Ronald Monteith_.
"My Dear Mr. Monteith,--I write to let you know that in the interview
I had with you yesterday, you misunderstood some of my statements. My
sister, Mrs. Verschoyle, did not come on board with me to say
good-bye, when the 'Neptune' sailed, but did so before I left home.
_You will understand why I write this letter._"
"Yours truly,
Carmela Cotoner."
* * * * *
"Poor soul," said Ronald, handing the letter to Foster; "I can
understand--she knows her sister is guilty, and would shield her."
"Yes, I can see that," said Foster, glancing rapidly over the letter;
"but how does she know her sister is guilty?"
"I don't know," said Ronald, blankly.
"Hum," answered Gerald, looking keenly at him; "let us look into this.
In the first place, did you think she thought her sister guilty when
you saw her?"
"No," eagerly; "I'm sure she did not."
"Then she must have seen some one in the meantime who told her the
truth," returned Foster; "now, whom did you see in the meantime?"
"No one, except Vassalla," returned the Australian, innocently.
"Exactly," said the barrister, "you saw Vassalla, and told him you
knew that he and Mrs. Verschoyle had lied regarding her movements on
the night in question?"
"Well?"
"Well!" echoed Foster, rather annoyed, "can't you see? Vassalla knew
Mrs. Verschoyle was on board, and also that Ventin was her husband,
and told Carmela Cotoner all about it; so, to save her sister, she has
recanted, and written a lie--a white lie, poor soul! for which she
will be forgiven in heaven."
"Then what do you think of the whole affair?" said Ronald, eagerly.
"I think that Vassalla knows more about this affair than we give him
credit," replied Foster.
"Shall I answer her letter?" said Monteith, after a pause.
"If you like," returned the other, shrugging his shoulders.
"Then I will."
* * * * *
"_Ronald Monteith to Carmela Cotoner_.
"My Dear Miss Cotoner,--I have received your letter. Believe me, I
admire and respect your silence.
"Yours truly,
"Ronald Monteith."
* * * * *
"And what about your marriage?" asked Foster. "I'll wait till I see
how this thing is cleared up," said Ronald, "and then----"
"Well?"
"Whether her sister is guilty or not, I'll marry her."
"That's a mistake."
"What! A mistake to marry a noble woman like that?" said Ronald. "No,
Foster, she has been tried in the furnace, and has, to my eyes, come
out pure as gold."
"Amen to that sweet prayer," quoted Foster, in his usual, cynical
voice.
* * * * *
"_Carmela Cotoner to Mrs. Verschoyle_.
"I cannot address you as sister till I know the truth of this terrible
story. Your husband was on board the 'Neptune,' and you saw him there,
though you denied doing so. The question I now ask you is, whether
this awful thing is true? Did you have anything to do with your
husband's death? I know that you are cruel and proud, but I do not
believe you to be so base as Vassalla says. Before we can meet again,
I want to be assured that your hands are free from your husband's
blood.
"Your sister,
Carmela."
* * * * *
"How did she find out?" asks Mrs. Verschoyle of herself; "no one could
have known that my husband was on board. Carmela certainly knew I went
to see her off, but how did she discover that Lionel Ventin was my
husband? There must be some traitor in the camp, and that traitor is
Matteo Vassalla. I will go to him to-morrow and find out the truth. If
it is as I suspect, he'll wish he had held his tongue!"
* * * * *
"_Matteo Vassalla to Carmela Cotoner_.
"So you are down at Marlow? I hope you are enjoying the country, and
getting back the roses to your cheeks, for I want my bride to look her
best when married to me. London is very dull, and the only excitement
is the arrival of your sister, from whom I have a note, saying she
will call on me to-morrow. I will report the result of our interview
in some future letter, though I hope to deliver it by word of mouth,
as I am coming down to Marlow shortly, and will call on you at Sir
Mark Trevor's place. Mr. Monteith is still in town, and still on his
wild-goose chase, from which I'm afraid he'll derive very little
gratification. I am the only person who can prove, absolutely, that
your sister saw her husband on board, and had anything to do with his
death, and I will keep my own counsel on condition that I receive my
reward--your hand. Adieu, my dear cousin, till we meet again.
"Yours for ever,
MATTEO VASSALLA."
* * * * *
"So I have to pay the penalty of my sister's crime," said Carmela to
herself on reading this letter. "In order to save her, I have to
sacrifice myself! Oh, it is cruel, cruel! and yet what can I do? If
she is innocent, I am free to marry the man I love; but if she is
guilty, God help me! I can do nothing but sacrifice myself to save
her!"
* * * * *
"_Ronald Monteith to Carmela Cotoner_.
"Is it true? I ask you, is it true, this rumour which I hear, that you
are engaged to your cousin, Vassalla? Oh, Carmela, why have you
trifled with me in this way? You must have seen how I loved you, how I
worshipped the very ground you trod on; and now you coldly throw me on
one side, and accept the hand of a man whom you do not and cannot care
about. Think of how you are ruining two lives--yours and mine--before
you take this fatal step; once done, it cannot be recalled. I await
your answer, and hope you may be able to deny this cruel lie.
Ronald."
* * * * *
"Poor Ronald," mused Carmela, "I am cruel but only to be kind. He can
never--marry into a family like ours, and the greatest kindness I can
do him is to refuse him. God knows, I love him well enough, but he
could never trust me, once he knows the secret of Leopold Verschoyle's
death, and that he does know it I am convinced. He may blame me now,
but he will bless me in the future; so I had better write and tell him
that it is true, though my heart may break while I pen the words."
* * * * *
"_Carmela Cotoner to Ronald Monteith_.
"It is true! I am the fool of fortune, and this match is not of my own
making. Forget that you have ever seen me, and your life's happiness
will be the constant prayer of
"Carmela."
"My life's happiness!" said Ronald, with a sob. "God! She breaks my
heart, ruins my life, and talks about praying for my happiness--so
like a woman! so like a woman!"