A STRANGE QUEST.

Auckland Star, Volume XXI, Issue 32, 8 February 1890, Page 6

A STRANGE QUEST.

By Mansfield Tracy Walworth, Author of ««Warwick," " Hotspur," " Beverly," "Lulu," etc., etc.

CHAPTER XXIV

SOMETHING TERRIBLE HAPPENS,

The sanctum had been invaded. The obstinacy of years had melted. The marvellous event was whispered from servant to servant as they congregated at the foot of the grand stairway, in the early morning. The great man of the servants' hall on this occasion was William, the confidential servant. He communicated to the cook, and the cook to the steward, and the steward to the porter, the amazing intelligence that a woman, a real, live, genuine female was in the house. • The advent of a comet through the hall door could not have created a greater sersation in the household. How, when, where, had the representative of the detested Eex gained admittance ? Wherewasshehidden ? When would she appear ? These interrogatories were passing from mouth to mouth, and no satisfactory answer could be elicited save by reference to the high authority, the aforesaid Wiiliam.This important official was gliding up and down stairs in felt slippers, and giving out his various orders in whispers. The house was being warmed, swept, aired, and put in order with marvellous rapidity, and even more marvellous stillness. Tho breakfast-room was being prepared for the morning meal. Tho coal fire was burning cheerfully in the grate. The snowy linen for the table was being spread, and, for a wonder, three napkins, with golden rings, were being laid beside three plates of exquisite pattern. Only a few weeks had elapsed since the great sensation of the year had set all the servants at the apex of excitement. When the order from above was transmitted through William to those below to place a second plate upon the solitary table of Nicholas Rudd, the household was in a flutter of expectation. Then came the young man, Sam, into the mansion as son, heir and partner. The silent man who had eaten and lived alone for so many years, commenced to talk, smile, and even laugh. William announced in the servants' hall, one morning, that the dignified and inscrutable Rudd, the aged woman-hater, had actually laughed—nay, more, had absolutely shaken his sides with langhter—at the breakfast table at one of Sam's stories. ._ Light had gradually dawned and increased in the solemn and mysterious life of the elder Rudd. The society of his adopted son was warming up the aged heart, so long frozen. The son was becoming a necessity to the father. The young heart, the sanguine heart, was exerting a beneficial influence upon the aged and the broken heart. Day by day the noiseless domestics uaw that the tendrils of the aroused heart of the senior partner were folding tighter and tighter about tho junior Eartner of the great banking and mercantile ouse. William electrified the servants' hall one night by the statement that he had seen the grey-haired man leaning over the couch of the sleeping Sam, in ineffable tenderness, and planting a kiss upon the handsome brow. But now in tho depth of winter, and amid the howling of the night storm, a carriage had brought to the mansion, while the servants slept, a bride fresh from the altar, with her robes of white and decked with flowers and jewels. William, the authority, announced in a whisper that she had been admitted by Nicholas Rudd himself and conducted to the bridal chamber, where she was sleeping now in the arms of Samuel Rudd, the son and heir. The authority had not seen her yot, but he stated that the elder Rudd had informed him that Sam had suddenly and unexpectedly brought home a bride, and that she should have shelter so long as sho desired it. The ice was broken —the ice of long and weary years was broken. There was a woman in the house. The sphinx had relented. One woman at least was welcome to tho grand and gloomy mansion of Rudd. When would she appear? Was she beautiful, tall or short, delicate or. robust ? Human nature is strong even in the breasts of disciplined servants. They looked of ten toward the stairway which led down from the bridal chamber. The hour was late. Why did the mysterious bride not make her appearance ? ' Remember,' whispered William to the steward, • that she came long after midnight and in a fearful storm. Sho won't come down in an hour yet.' This prediction was verified. The moments sped! away, and then a grand and venerable man appeared upon the staircase. Slowly he descended toward the breakfastroom, and the servants formed into line to salute him as he passed along the lower hall. The hair of the great Rudd had of late years been permitted to grow long. It was very silky and very grey and very beau.tiful, sweeping down upon his

shoulders.

He was not the superb specimen of man- „-* hcod that he had once been when he stood before the aged negress and placed in her hand the deed. He was much broken in strength and health. His majestic figure had fallen a little out of line and he walked with no elastic step. Bub he was a magnificent ruin. The woman who had really been proud of such a husband in his grand, young manhood could not fail to be proud of him row in his dignified decline, if but for a moment she could look upon him. Where was the woman who had once called him by the tenderest of names ? The old man was thinking of her now. He was thinking of the hour when he too had been a bridegroom and a young and beautiful woman was making her breakfast toilet after the bridal night. That young and beautiful woman had blighted his life and filled the long, long years with bitterness. He was near his grave now. Where was she ? Filled with these reflections regarding the terrible and the beautiful past he entered the breakfast-room, and seating himself at the head of the table, and near the coal fire, took up the morning paper and ran his eyes over the head ings of the news. Then he sat leaning back in his arm-chair and gazed sorrowfully into the glowing mass of coals. After a time the clock upon the mantelpiece struck the hour. He looked up in surprise at the timepiece and then said to the motionless servant behind him : 'Go and knock at ray son's door and tell him the hour.'

The servant glided away. After a time he returned and reported to his master that Samuel Rudd was awake, but did. not feel disposed to interrupt the profound slumber of his young wife. Then tho old gentleman ordered the breakfast to be served. He ate leisurely, and when he had completed his meal resumed the reading of tbo newspaper. The debris of his meal was removed and everything made clean and neat again for the expected advent of the young married pair. But they did not come. Nicholas Rudd took then from the mantel-piece a volume of historical sketches, and read thoughtfully for another hour. He laid aside the book at last, and glancing once more at the clock said to his attendant:

' Go now and summon my son again.' The servant bowed and vanished as before.

When, however, he returned, after a brief absence, it was with well-defined terror upon his countenance. The circumstances of the case upset his usual decorum of movement and speech, and seemed to justify his ejaouUliou ;

' Oh, great Heaven, sir, hasten up to your son's room! Something terrible has happened, and he is most crazy.' ' Give me your arm, William. You have something that you fear to tell me. Help me up the stairs. Did he send for me ?'

' Yes, sir ; a very urgent summons that you should come to his room. Something strange has happened to. his wife.' In another minute Nicholas Rudd stood before the open door of the bridal chamber and saw what appeared to him to be a very peaceful scene, and tbe last one in tho world calculated to excite terror. Sam was half-reclining upon the bridal couch with one arm thrown about the head of his bride supporting it. He was ( gazing into her face with intense interest, as if the fascination of her beauty had enthralled him and he could not look a<vay. The countenance of the young bride wore an expression of exquisite peace, and her cheeks were blooming in a delicate tint of rose-flush. She was almost ready to smile in her sleep, for sleeping she was without doubt. The whole scene would have been a subject for an artist. ' The Bride About to Awake.' This was the picture. Thus should the scene be entitled.

But when the young husband heard the voice of Nicholas Rudd beside him he exclaimed :

* Look ! look ! my Bessie is surely dead. Oh ! my God ! she is dead. She will never move again.' The elder Rudd approached the bed and gazed upon her: The illusion of life was perfect. There were none of the dread marks of the death angel upon that lovely face. Id was like an ecstatic sleep. She had died from excessive and sudden joy. All of her childish tenderness, all of her mature and secret love had found its object, its fulfilment in that startling bridal night. The whole nervous system of the lovely girl had been wrought up to its highest tension that she might make the sacrifice. When the revulsion came it was too much for her. She had thrown both arms about her lover and whispered to him: * There is a bell sounding in my ear, Sam. It is my wedding bell. lam fainting away from joy. Ah J I am too happy to live. This is surely heaven.'

She had whispered these words before the day broke and then seemed to fall instantly to sleep. Folded in his arms she moved not, and he too fell asleep. When the morning light came he raised himself up on his arms and contemplated her. She moved not and he would not arouse her. The moments and the hours fled, and still he contemplated her wonderful loveliness and her profound sleep. Why did she not breathe? Why did she not turn in her sleep? At last he gently shook her. She responded not by the slightest movement of feature or muscle. He knew that something was wrong. But waited patiently again, hoping that nature would reassert itself. But no, she moved not. After a time he shook her more energetically. Her immobility created the apprehension of death. He touched her cheeks and lips. They had the warmth of life. Her hands were warm. Her neck was warm. But moved no more. She had died in his arms and died from excess of joy. The death gently with her. He had only kissed her and passed on her way. Her death sleep was a vision, a type of ecstatic bliss and peace.