THE LOST LADY OF LONE.

Auckland Star, Volume XXIV, Issue 187, 9 August 1893, Page 6

THE LOST LADY OF LONE.

$T MRS E.D.E.N. SOUTHWORTB, Author op 'The Hidden Hand,' «Uir« known.' « Only a Girl's Heart,' •Nbaresx ahd Dearest,' Etc., Em CHAPTER XXVI. Continued. 'To Number —, Westminster Road,' ordered Mr Setter, as he mounted the box* seat beside the cabman. . The latter started his horses at a good rate of speed, so bhab a drive of aboub forty minutes broughb them to their destination. • The detective jumped down and opened the door, saying : 1 Excuse me, your grace; I think, perhaps I ought to go in first to ensure you an interview wibh the woman ?' 4By all means go in first, officer. I will remain here in the cab, until you return to snminon me,' answered the duke. Detective Setter went up to the door and jkpocked, and then waited a few seconds until the door was openod, and he was admitted by an unseen hand. A few minutes elapsed, and then detective Setter reappeared, ahd came up to the cab and said: • She will see you at once, early as it is, your grace> I do nob know whab in the world possesses the old woman ; but she is chuckling in the most insane manner in bhe anticipation .of meeting you " face to face," as she calls it.' * Well, we shall soon ccc,' said the duke, as, with a resigned air, he followed Mr Setter into the hou°e. The detective led him up stairs to the gy.acjy parlour which had once been Rose Cameron's sitting-room. ," There was no one present; but the detective.handed a chair bo bhe duke, and begged him bo sib down and waib for Mrs Brown's appearance. The duke threw himself into the chair, and gazed around him upon the garish Bceneuntila chamber door opened, and Mrs Brown, in her Sunday's besb suib, sailed in. The duke arose. iVlrs Brown came on bowards him, courtesying stiffly, and saying: •Good-morning to you, Mr Scotb. Ibis a many months since I havo had the pleasure of seeing you in this house.' The duke was not so much amazed at this greeting as he might have been, bad he not heard the astounding testimony of Rose Cameron. So he answered quietly : * I do not think, madam, thab you ever "bad the pleasure" of seeing me "in this house " or, in fact, anywhere else. I have never seen you in my life before.' •Oh! oh! oh 1 hear to the man ! He would brazen ib out to my very face !' exclaimed Mrs Brown. The duke started and flushed crimson as he stared ab the woman. .'. Oh, lam not afraid of you. Deuce a bib am I afraid of you ! You may glare till yonr eyes drop out, bub you'll not scare me. And you may be the Markiss of Arondelle and the Duke of Hereward, too, for aughb J know, or care either. Bub you were just plain Mr John Scobb to me, and also to that poor, wronged lass whom you have betrayed into prison, if not unbo deabh, And now, Mr John Scobb, as you wished to see me (and I can guess why you wished to see me), and as I have no objection to see you, besides having something of importance to tell you,..perhapß you will send thab man off;' said Mrs Brown,.pointing, to. the detective. ■ f No. I prefer thab Mr Setter should etay here, and be a witness to all that passes between us,' answered the duke. •All righb. It is no business of mine, and no shame of mine. Only I thought as you mightn't like a stranger to hear all your secrets, and I wished to spare your feelings,' said the woman. ' I beg you will nob consider my feelings In the least, madam,' answered the duke, with a slight) smile of amusemenb ; ' and I hope you will allow Mr Setter to remain,' he added. , „ 'Oh, in course, /have no objections, if yov, have none.' «Pray go on and say what you have to say,' urged the duke. , • Then first of all I have to tell you that I know why you have come here. You have some to inquire aboub M iss Salome Levison, the great banker's heiress.' 'You are speaking of the Duchess of Hereward, madam,' interrupted the duke, in a stern voice. "'No, I'm not. lam speaking of Miss Salome Levison. She is not the Duchoss o flerward. I don't know but one Duchess o Hereward, and her you are ashamed to mm, spitefully added Mrs Brown. • You are a woman, aged and insane, and therefore entitled to ourutmost indulgence,' said the duke, putting bhe strongest control upon himself. 'But tell me now, whab was your business with the Lady of Lone, upon lyhqm you called ab Elmthorpe House on Tuesday afternoon ?' ' I went from your true wife, whom you had betrayed into prison, to your false wife, to leb her know what you were, and to tell her thab there waa but one step between herself and ruin.' •Good Heaven ! you did that ?' exclaimed the duke, utterly thrown off his guard. '« Yes, I did ! And I showed the young lady your real wife's marriage lines, all regularly signed audwitnessed by the rector of St, Margaret's and the sexton, and the pew-opener. I did. And there were letters in'your Own hand writing, and photographs the very print of you, which I took along with bhe marriage lines, bo prove my words when I told her thab you had been married for over a year, and had lived in my house with your wife all that time V 1 Heaven may forgive you for bhat great wrong, woman ; bub I never can ! And— ihelady believed you?' ~.,,„ «Of course she did. How could she help It, when she saw all the proofs ? It almost killed her. Indeed, and I bhink ib did quite craze her. But she saw her duty, and she bad the courage to do it. She knew as Bhe ought to leave you, before tho false marriage could go any further, bo^ she letu you. Ido really respect her for ib ! 'In the namo of Heaven, where did she vol Tell me that. Toll me where to find her, and Imay be able to pardon the great wrone you have clone us under some insane Trror? said the husband of the lost wife, sbriving to control his indignation. •Indeed, then,' exclaimed Mrs Brown, defiantly. 'I am nob asking any pardon ab Km yon. Mr Scobb. Ib a n't likely as I'll want pardon from Heaven tor doing my 3uty, much less from you, Mr John Scott Oh yes/ I know you are called tbe Duke of and no doubb you are the Duke of Hereward j bub I knew you as Mr John Scott, and nobody else; and I knew a deal to much of you as Mm. But as to wanting your pardon-that's a good one ! 'Will you be good enough to tell me where my wife, tho Duchess of Hereward, aasgon^' demanded the duke, putt.ng a strong curb upon his anger. 'S know where she is well enough She is in the trap you set for her !' sp.befully TtXl-S'needed all his powers of self-control to enable him to reply Ca!?Llyouto tell me where is the Lady of Lone, to whom you went on Tuesday afternoon, wibh a story which has driven her from her home, and driven her, P^haps. to madness, or to death. I charge you to toll me, where is Bhe?'

| Ah! where is Miss Salome Levison, the heiress of Lone, you ask ! Exactly. That is what you would give a great deal to know, wouldn't you ? You want bo follow and join her, and live wibh her abroad, bocause you have gob a wife living in England. You're a noble duke, so you are. Well, if this is whab bhe nebiliby are a coming to, the_ sooner them Republicans have ib all their own way bhe bebter, I say !' exclaimed Mrs Brown, bhrowing herself back in her chair and folding her arms. Debecbive Sebber here joined bhe Duke of Hereward, and deferentially drew him away to the other end of the rooom, and whispered:

'I beg your grace nob to remain here, subjected to the insolence of this mad 'woman, whose every second word is treason or blasphemy, or worse, if anything can be worse. Leave me to deal with her. A very little more, and I Bhall arrest her on the grave charge of conspiracy.' ' No, Setter, do nothing of the sort. Use no violence; utter no threats. Now, if ever —here, if anywhere—is a crisis, ab which we must be nob only " wise as serpents, bub harmless as doves," if we would gain any information from this woman,' answered Salome's husband, as he walked back and rejoined Mrs Brown.

' Will you tell me, on any terms, where the Lady of Lone is to be found ?' he inquired. * Humph ! I like thab ! Aren'b you a sharp ? You can'l call her the duchess, and you won't call her Miss Levison, so you call her the Lady of Lone, anyway !' exclaimed Mrs Brown, with a chuckling laugh. 'Bub will you, for any price, tell me where she has gone ?' repeated the duke.

'As to where Miss Salome Levison has gone, I would nob tell you to save your life, even'if I could. I could not tell you, even if I would. I left her, sitting in her bed-chamber at Elmthorpe House, on bhab Tuesday afbernoon afber her false marriage. She was sibting clobhed in her deep mourning travelling suit, as she had pub on again for her father directly the wedding breakfasb was over. She looked the very image of sorrow and despair. She did nob tell me where she waa going. I don't believe she even knew herself. There, that's all I have got to tell you, even if you had the power to put me on the rack, a8 you used to have in the bad old times,' exclaimed Mrs Brown, once more folding her arms and settling herself in her chair.

The Duke of Hereward walked toward the detective officer.

'There is nothing more to be learned from the woman, at present. Setter. We have already gained much, however, in bhe knowledge of the base calumny that drove the duchess from her home. It is a relief to be assured that she has not fallen among London thieves. She has probably gone abroad. You must inquire, discreetly, at the London Bridge Railway Stations, for a young lady, in deep mourning, travelling alone, who bought a first-class ticket, on Tuesday evening. There, Setter. There is a mere outline of instructions. You will fill ib up as your discretion and experience may suggest,' concluded the duke, as ho drew on his gloves. ' I would suggest, your grace, that we go to St. Margareb's Old Church, where this strange marriage, in which they try to compromise you, is said to have taken place, atoS which is close by,' said the detective. ' By all means, leb us go there and look ab the register,' assented the duke. They took leave of Mrs Brown and left the house.

Five minuteß' drive took them to Old St. Margaret's. They were fortunate as to the time. The daily morning service was just over, and the curate who had officiated was still in the chancel.

The Duke of Hereward went in, and requested the young clergyman to favour him with a sight of the parish register. The curate complied by inviting bhe bwo visitors bo walk into the vestry.

He then placed two chairs ab the green table, requested them to be seated, and laid before them the brass-bound volume recording the births, marriages and deaths ot this populous old parish. The Duke of Hereward turned over the ponderous leaves until he came bo the page be sought. And there he found, duly registered, signed and witnessed, the marriage, by special license, of Archibald-Alexander-John Scott and Rose Cameron, both of Lono, Scotland. ._ < The mystery deepens.'said the duke, as hepointed to tho register. fib is incomprehensible,' answered the detective.

. Thab is my name,' added the duke. • Some impostor must have assumed it,' suggested the officer. ' Then the impostor, in taking my name, must have also taken my face, form, voice, and manner, for though, upon my soul, I never married Rose Cameron, there are two honest women who are ready to swear that I did,' whispered the duke, with a humorous twinkle in his eyes; for there were moments when the absurdity of the situation overcame its gravity. > The duke then thanked the curate for his courtesy and lefb the church, attended by the detective. 'Where shall I tell the cabman to drive?' inquired Setter, as he held the door open after his employer had entered the cab. 'To ElmthorpeHouse, Kensington. And then get in here, with me, if you please, Mr Sebbe'r. I have somebhing to say to you^ answered his grace. The detective gave the order and entered the cab.

The duke then made many suggestions, drawn from his own intimate knowledge of the tastes and habits of tbe duchess, to assist the detective in his search. ' You may safely leave the whole affair in my hands, sir. I will act with so much discretion thab no one in London shall suspect that tho Duchess of Heroward is missing. For the rest, I have no doubb thab we shall SOOn find oub the retreat of her grace. A young lady, dressed in elegant deep mourning, and travelling unattended, would be sure to have attracted attention and aroused curiosity, even in the confusion of a crowded railway station. We are safe to trace her, your grace, said Detective Setter, confidently. (To be Continued.)