|Newspaper Title||The Bendigo Independent (Vic. : 1891 - 1918)|
|Trove Title||The Devil's Own. An Australian Story|
THE DEVIL'S OWN
AN AUSTRALIAN STORY
CHAPTER XXXI (Continued)
By MRS. RICHMOND HENTY. (ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.)
" This look bad, very bad," he said. I must get my specs; it’s a mercy you saved this book; there's that in it as would hang a follow."
“Lor ! how.you frighten mo. What’s in your old noodle now ? ” said his wife, looking .at hinvia alarm. “ So you see these hero letters, they are them as the squire posted and they were never posted, li’s my opinion thero*a been bad goings on somewhere; and, see here, blest if tins isn’t a letter from Master Hubert which tho old squire ought to have had the week be fore he was murdered, and here’s more— my stars! there’ll be the devil to pay for some ono. I expect, though it is too late, that fellow Wilkins died long ago. He’s the scoundrel; it’s him and no other—drat tho villain. . I never could bear the sight of him, -and he knew it— a dirty, sneaking, slovenly-spoken, softly to all ontvfard appearance, but the devil hisself in villainy and deceit, and lookee hero, if the curmudgeon, hasn’t been, practising, writing, taking his master’s name for a . copy—dash his impudeoc*,” said the old man, staring at a long array of. Hubert Armylage, writton by way of a copy over- aod over again. “If this aint forgery or next door to it, my namr is not John Benson. This will be work for the lawyers if I don’t mistake, though if. it is Wilkins’ - doings, why there’s an end of it, for lie’s dead aod buried, but if so be as it is, anyone else’s work, then, my stars, I wouldn’t, be in his shoes for something. I’ll toll you what I’ll do, I shall write to morrow morning and tell the lawyers all about it, and if they want the book they must have it then and there. Now let’s get. to bed, it’s morning almost." t< “ But*give me Fancht tie’s letter?, th'ey don't want them, they can’t be of use either way,” said Mrs. Benson. “Letthem be, let them be, wo musn’c do .things by halves, and Fanchetto’s letters may be of uso. I’ll tell you what I’ll do, I*ll go straight up to the parson and show him the cose, and see what ho says—lhere, ; then I’ll have done my duty,” said the hurly burly host, march ing away with a self-satisfied dignified air, irrespective of the aforesaid braces dangling behind, and the two ends of his collar.-sticking up either side, like the fans of a windmill from its unbuttoned condition in front. “ Well, if this isn’t a wicked, wicked world full of snares and pitfalls, and rogues, and vagabonds, only to think of such villainy and such like,” said Mrs. Benson, her hands crossed on her lap, her plump face looking unusually grave, “ its my-belief we never c\n tell who is honest end wlib is not, it is an awful look out on J the honest ones—l’m coming Benson, don’t be so fussy,”