JOHNNY LUDLOW [Illustration] JOHNNY LUDLOW By MRS. HENRY WOOD AUTHOR OF "EAST LYNNE," "THE CHANNINGS," ETC. _FOURTH SERIES_ TWENTIETH THOUSAND +London+ MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 1901 "God sent his Singers upon earth With songs of sadness and of mirth, That they might touch the hearts of men, And bring them back to heaven again." LONGFELLOW. CONTENTS. PAGE A MYSTERY 1 SANDSTONE TORR 61 CHANDLER AND CHANDLER 145 VERENA FONTAINE'S REBELLION 190 A CURIOUS EXPERIENCE 293 ROGER BEVERE 313 KETIRA THE GIPSY 368 THE CURATE OF ST. MATTHEW'S 408 MRS. CRAMP'S TENANT 449 JOHNNY LUDLOW. A MYSTERY. I. "Look here, Johnny Ludlow," said Darbyshire to me--Darbyshire being, as you may chance to remember, our doctor at Timberdale--"you seem good at telling of unaccountable disappearances: why don't you tell of that disappearance which took place here?" I had chanced to look in upon him one evening when he was taking rest in his chimney-corner, in the old red-cushioned chair, after his day's work was over, smoking his churchwarden pipe in his slippers and reading the story of "Dorothy Grape." "We should like to see that disappearance on paper," went on Darbyshire. "It is the most curious thing that has happened in my experience." True enough it was. Too curious for any sort of daylight to be seen through it; as you will acknowledge when you hear its details; and far more complicated than the other story. The lawyer at Timberdale, John Delorane, was a warm-hearted and warm-tempered man of Irish extraction. He had an extensive practice, and lived in an old-fashioned, handsome red-brick house in the heart of Timberdale, with his only daughter and his sister, Hester. You may have seen prettier girls than Ellin Delorane, but never one that the heart so quickly went out to. She was too much like her dead mother; had the same look of fragile delicacy, the same sweet face with its pensive sadness, the soft brown eyes and the lovely complexion. Mrs. Delorane had died of decline: people would say to one another, in confidence, they hoped Ellin might escape it. The largest and best farm in the neighbourhood of Timberdale, larger than even that of the Ashtons, was called the Dower Farm. It belonged to Sir Robert Tenby, and had been occupied for many years by one Roger Brook, a genial, pleasant gentleman of large private means apart from his success in farming. Rich though he was, he did not disdain to see practically after his work himself; was up with the lark and out with his men, as a good farmer ought to be. Out-of-doors he was the keen, active, thorough farmer; indoors he lived as a gentleman. He had four children: three boys and one girl, who were all well and comprehensively educated.