LOVE SHALL PREVAIL.

Alexandra Herald and Central Otago Gazette, Issue 931, 10 June 1914, Page 2

LOVE SHALL PREVAIL.

PUBLISHED BT SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

*r ARTHUR W. MARCHMONT, Anthor of "The Case of Lady Broadstone," "The Gable House," "By Bight of Sword," "A Heritage of Peril," "In the Grip of Hate," Ac., Ac.

(COPYRIGHT)

CHAPTER X \ V.—Continued. She'reid the paper he had left with her, and found it was a deed of mar-

riage settlement giving him a quarter of a miUon, and setting out the securi- ' ties in detail. She knew very little i about her property, and had much difficulty in understanding the document. She tossed it aside as of comparative unimportance in view of the last condition he had imposed—that she was not to see her boy until she had complied with all his demands. To put the - slightest trust in a word he uttered was out of the question. He was quite • capable of forcing her to marry him, and then making further conditions before restoring her boy to her; and her first impulse was to hold firm to her decision and set him at defiance until r ~ Don was brought to her. But, on the ether hand, she would gam nothing by that. The only result would be to prolong her imprisonment, and, by angering him, to place the child in danger. So long as she was a prisoner she was incapable of doing • anything to find Don; while the instant she was free there were a hundred things she could do, and many ways by which she could force Galthorpe to keep that part of the compact. She canvassed these possible steps eagerly. The fact that he was forcing her to marry him must even enable her to get the marriage set aside; . while in any case, she could still pro- ■ secuto him and his accomplice, the woman Loveday, for what they had done.

She knew that he was at heart a coward; and the threat of such a prosecution would reverse their positions, placing him in her power instead of her in his. In view of that, he would not dare to play her false. If she cook) no trust to his honor, she could certainly rely upon - his fears for his own skin; and this reflection tended to induce her to comply with his terms.

Thus when he came back for her decision, saying that a clergyman was waiting to marry them, she affected a stubborn mood; insisting that her boy most be brought to her before anything more was done. She played her part wed and turned a deaf ear at first to his threats.

"Bring my boy to me and I will marry yon, but not otherwise," she declared over and over again, and only seemed to weaken in her purpose as his threats of violence to the child increased in vehemence. And when at length she yielded, it was with a storm of fury which ended in a paroxysm of grief and despair. He left the /com as soon as he had wrung the consent out of her, and as ■he waited for his return with the others, a gleam of hope that she might still escape broke upon her. An appeal to the clergyman who was to marry them might prove successful even at the last moment, and she scanned him as closely as the dim light admitted when he fallowed the woman and Galthorpe into the room. He was an old and feeble man with white hair and beard and dressed in a black gown. "The Her. Mr. Davidson, Olive,"

■aid Galthorpe. "I have explained to Mm the reasons for our marriage tinder these conditions," he added significantly.

The clergyman bowed, mumbling Something to the effect that he under"gtood. Olive started at the sound of his voice, which was obviously assumed. She noticed also that he kept at a distance from her, remaining close to the door.

"What have yon explained?" "Everything. There is no need to go over it again. The first thing to be done is to sign the paper I left with yon."

"Wait, if yon please. Yon are a

clergyman of tile Church of England?" she asked, turning to Mr. Davidson. "Of course he is. Do you suppose I don't know what to do?" interposed Galthorpe angrily. "Do you know that tliii marriage is being forced- upon mo against my will and under threats?"

"You are only wasting time, Olive, by attempting to make a scene. You have consented to make me the happiest man in England to-day. If you wish to recall that consent, you can do so, but " his meaning look completed the sentence. "I appeal to you for help, sir," she continued. "I have been trapped here by Mr. Galthorpe in order that he may force me to become has wife and " "I don't know why you keep up this silly pretence. It will do no good. Are you willing to marry me or not? If you are, say so; H you are not, there is an end to the matter—for the present."

"1 have appealed to you, sir," said Olive to the clergyman. His only reply was a .feeble lifting of the Hands.

"I am not forcing you," declared Galthorpe, angrily. "How can you say anything of the 6ort? You had better go, Mr. Davidson. lam sorry to have troubled yon needlessly. Yon persist in keeping up the farce, Olive?" "No, I will marry yon," she said, seeing the uselessness of her appeal. "Sign this deed, then," he said. She dd so, and the woman and Mr. Davidson witnessed it.

The formality occupied some little time, as the paper had to be laid on the one chair in the room in default of a table, and Olive noticed that when the woman had written her name, Galthorpe carried the chair, .with the document upon it, across to the clergyman who had not moved from his position by the door.

"Now we're ready for you, sir,'' said Galthorpe.

The clergyman fumbled in the pocket of his black gown and brought out a prayer-book, and had some difficulty in finding the right place. His hands were shaking so violently that he could not hold the book still, and his whole manner evidenced extreme nervousness.

Olive watched him closely. Her first thought was that he was intoxicated; and the way in which he mumbled the wordß, indistinctly and almost unintelligibly,, served to confirm that opinion. But it proved to be alarm, not drunkenness.

Galthorpe was scarcely less ill at ease than the clergyman, and was feverishly impatient for the scene to end. Suddenly Olive saw him start and change color and turn quickly to the woman, who went deathly white. At that moment there came the sound of a heavy footstep in the house below.

All three were intensely agitated, and the clergyman, in his consternation, let the prayer-book fall, and stood trembling in a paroxysm of terror. Galthorpe was the first to recover himself. He stepped forward, picked up the book, muttering to Mr. Davidson as he returned it to him.

Then a lond cry rang through the house, in a strong stentorian voice.

"Olive I Olive 1 Passionate, appealing, and imperious. Olive cried out in amazement. In her overwrought condition, she behoved she could recognise her husband's voice. To her it was like a voice from the grave forbidding the marriage; and she listened, awestrnck and spellbound, for some repetition of the mysterious

warning. But none came. The house was a? silent as the tomb itself.

CHAPTER XXV.—THE RESCUE.

Olive was wrought to a frenzy of emotional excitement as she waited for the weird cry to be repeated. That it was not merely the result of her fevered imagination was proved by the fact that the others had heard it, and were panic-stricken in consequence.

Galthorpe, ashen white with rage, mortification, and fear, stood fighting hard to recover his self-command; the clergyman was quite overcome, and leant against the wall in a condition of abject consternation; and the woman, Loveday, was staring wide-eyed at -Galthorpe as if looking to him for an explanation of the inexplicable incident which had interrupted the marriage. Olive was the first to break the spell of silence.

"It was my husband's voice,' she said in a low, awestruck whisper. Her words roused Galthorpe, and_he made a great effort to rally his courage.

"Voice?" •he echoed.' "What voice? I heard no voice," he asserted unsteadily. "Did you?" and he appealed to the woman. She started and tried to reply; but could only shake her head. "What's the matter , with you both?" he asked roughly, looking from the woman to the trembling clergyman. "We've had enough of this. Let's get on and finish what we're here for." But Olive drew back.

"No," she said, in the same hashed tone. "It was my husband's voice; and either he is alive or it is a warning from the grave.'" "Nonsense. You imagined something," he replied angrily, and tried to take her hand. But she b*ke from him. "Donald! Donald I I am here!" she cried, and sprang toward the door, only to be canght in Galthorpe's strong grip and held.

"I tell you there is not a soul in the house but ourselves," he said. "There was a—footstep," said the woman, who was trembling violently. "What, you too?" exclaimed Galthorpe, turning on her fiercely. "Don't be a fool. Now, Mr. Davidson, get this business finished, if you please." ■ But the latter only shook his head and gestured feebly. "No, no. I—l cannot. I—l will not," he mumbled. He, moved to leave the room, but hesitated on the threshold and shrank back.

"There was a footstep," whispered the panic-stricken woman again. Galthorpe laughed. "Don't be a fool. Something fell town; that's all. Go and see for your--lf if you like." But she shuddered, and shrank back.

"No, not for the world," Bhe laurmured.

Galthorpe was furious at this. "A pretty pair of cowards, upon my soul!" he cried.

Olive, finding his hold cm her relax somewhat, commenced to struggle with him, and tried to cry out again; but he held her firmly, and pressed his hand to her mouth to stop her utterance. To her surprise, the clergyman intervened. Seizing Galthorpe's hand, he dragged it from her mouth. "There must be no more of that,'' he said in a very different tone from that in which he had previously spoken. Galthorpe glared at him furiously. "I mean it," the clergyman added, firmly. "Let her go."

"I am content to wait," said Olive, realizing the value of this unexpected help. "I will wait in silence;" 1 and when Galthorpe released her, she crossed to the bed and sat down.

A whispered but very angry altercation followed between the two men, in which the woman presently joined. Olive watched the quarrel; and it was evident from the manner of them all that Galthorpe was threatening them both, and attempting to force them to proceed with the marriage, and that both were unwilling. She was now strangely indifferent to the result. She was firmly resolved not to go farther with the marriage; and the fact that they had thus quarrelled tended to assure her that Galthorpe would not be allowed to do her any immediate violence; for it was his brutal treatment of her which bad roused the clergyman to take her part. She was convinced also that Galthorpe had lied when he said he had not heard the cry which had so agi--ted her. His statement that there was no one but themselves in the house, was equally false." He would -■ay anything that suited his purpose at the moment, and there was the fact that he had attempted to prevent her calling out. If there was no one in the house, she would have been allowed to scream herself hoarse, as she had Ijcen before, in the sure knowledge that no one would hear or heed her. And if there was anyone, it could only be a friend. Someone who knew of her plight and had come there to help her. *

Intensely comforted by this reflection, her thoughts reverted to the emotions roused by the sound of the voice she had taken for Donald's. Her heart had thrilled at the sound which stirred a- thousand memories of liim and of her thoughts of him in the long interval since she had sent him out to his death.

If it were only possible that he could ')o alive 1

What ineffable happiness would have been to have him once again at her side to protect her against the fa.se friends who had surrounded her, ith their plots and schemings against her and her boy! How she would have welcomed him as a guide in all the maze of her troubles and perplexities 1

What infinitely sweet pleasure to have iid her head on his shoulder, to confess the wrong she had done him, to tell him of her remorse and the sufferings which had been her portion in all the weary years of her empty life, to assure him of her undying love, and to appeal to his love for her as she pleaded for his forgiveness. He would have forgiven her. She iras sure of him. He had • even laid down his life that she might have what he had believed would he happiness; sttle dreaming that that very selfsacrifice had destroyed it.

In ..the midst of the reverie she waß disturbed by Qalthorpe. ' "You will give your word to remain here quietly?" he asked abruptly. "How long?" she asked, ■ rising. "No matter" how" long it may be, you shall never compel me to do what rou wish. I am absolutely resolved.- You hear this, Mr. Davidson?" she added, going toward'him. Gelthorpe placed himself in front of her, his face dark'in anger. "You are to remain here. I understand what you think. That some one is in the house who will help you. Put that hopie aside." "I am no longer afraid of your nor. of what you can do to me," she answered firmly. "I have no f ling for you except unbounded contempt and loathing." Then she turned to the clergyman. "You have helped me once, sir, against this man's violence, you will help me again to escape from im powerP" "No harm will be done .to you," said Galthorpe; "but you must give your word to remain here quietly for a time."

"I will not. Do what you will to me, or what you dare. If your purpose is still to try and. force me to marry you, it will fail. I would rather die than suffer that degradation.** He bit back an oath in his rage at her defiance.

"I djon't wish to force you," he replied after a pause. "You can have your liberty if you will buy it. But you must remain here to-night because I must have time to make arrangements. Write a cheque for fifty thousand pounds, and to-morrow you shall leave." "And my boy?" • The question confused him, and he hesitated before replying. "He is not here; but he shall be restored to you to-morrow." His manner set her thinking rapidly. The sudden abandonment of "the marriage plan suggested that he was no longer confident, whilst his confusion and hesitation in speaking of the child roused her suspicions. "Bring him to me here and I will pay your blackmail. But not otherwise." "If that has to be done there will be further delay," he said uneasily. , "Bring him to me here," she repeated firmly and turned away. As he stood looking at her in angry indecision, there came another sound of movement below. Olive turned quickly toward the door, her face alight with renewed hope; but Galthorpe stopped her. "There is soma one there," said the woman in a low tone of alarm.

"Keep her here. I will go and see," said Galtho'rpe. Freed from. his presence, Olive was content to wait, and all three stood listening intently as he went cautiously down the narrow creaking stairway. There was no sound save u's heavy foosteps, and they could hear each step; how he paused once or twice on the way; and again for i longer time when he reached the bottom. - Then suddenly his name was uttered sternly- in the same stentorian tone which had so agitated Olive before. A cry of amazement followed from Galthorpe; next the shuffling of feet, the slamming of a door, and then silence. Olive, in a frenzy of excitement at again' hearing her husband's voice, rushed toward the door to escape; but the woman stood before it and kept her place, despite her evident terror. "You had better wait, Olive, I will see that no harm comes to you." "Chris?" she cried, in overwhelming amazement as she recognized the voice* "Yes, Chris," replied the pseudoclergyman. . "I am more ashamed of the part I have played in this than I can say. But he had me in his power and threatened me with ruin if I refused. Yet lam not quite so, guilty as I seem, and I have at least been able to help you a little." Her eyes flashed with indignation and scorn as she looked at him. I "Yes, but not until you knew that other help was at hand." .'"' He made no reply, and hung his head before her. "Where is my boy?" she demanded fiercely. "I do not knowl I would tell you freely if I did," he murmured, his; es still cast on the ground. She turned on the woman repeating :e question to her. "You must know, for jou stole him

from me." - The woman cowered before Olive's rage. "I—l don't know. I—l swear hat." "You liej" flashed Olive furiously. "But your lies will not help you. You stole him from me, .and you shall pay "ir that. You heard your scoundrelly ccomplice say that my boy should be jjiven back to me to-morrow. You must know where he is. Tell me. ell me, I say;" and she went up to lie woman as if to drag the truth from her by force. "I tell you I don't know," was the rrallenly spoken reply. "None of us '•:nows. That is why all this has been •one." (To be Continued.).