THE BRIDE ELECT; OR, THE DOOM OF THE DOUBLE ROSES

Auckland Star, Volume XXX, Issue 30, 6 February 1899, Page 6

THE BRIDE ELECT; OR, THE DOOM OF THE DOUBLE ROSES

BY ANNIE ASHMORE,

Anthor of 'Beautiful Rienzi,' 'Corinne's Ransom,' 'Waiting for Him,' 'The Diamond Collar,' Etc.

CHAPTER HI. THE EMPTY BRIpAL DAY.

Rolling swiftly over the quiet lane, .the fr§sh night air meeting them vy-Tth rushing force ip their rapid transit, the captain and Alexander proceeded' on fheir^'anxious search. There' was little said on either side after their first eager deliberation of tieir plan of inquiry. There, was nothing could be said that would not end in Glencora, and both were too wise to give their fears substahce by expressing them.

So they gravely settled the .route they meant to take, trying hard to speak cheerfully ; and then. Alexander devoted himself to his mettlesome mare, the captain to his pipe, and his sharp scrutiny of each twilight shrouded figure they encountered. Crossing Fountain Bridge, they drew up at a small house occupied by one of the bargemen, known to Captain Drummond. The captain sprang out and found the man, brought him to Alexander, and they each questioned biro, '' „, ?Have you been on duty to-daj . inquired the captain. The man shook his head .and explained that he had been on special duty the night before, and had required the day to rest, and that his sou had taken his place. , *Ab ! Then you've been asleep ; you did not observe any of the boats -which passed this evening ?' broke in Alexander. ■ . The bargeman further explained that $ver since five o'clock he had Ijeen on the lookout for his son's return, loitering most of the time on the bridge. * Then yon'll be able to remember whether any lady like Miss Calvert tSa*sed you on either freight or passenger boat, of over the bridge, between a quarter past five and this time.' 'Sorrpw ac body, roan, woman, or wean, hae I seen on the boats sin' the gloamin' forty thae Territorial school hairns coroin' home frae an excur-

sipo.' The gentlemen consulted in Tproken whispers, each face averted, till the captain broke out with, 'Confound it, man, she's either dead or alive ; we must raise heaven and earth to find which!' He walked up vto the bargeman, and in a few words related the lady^s disappearance, and enjoined him to watch the canal, up by the first lock, when the next boat came down to Edinburgh, and to look well to the water; and finally, with a husky throat and afljapce of anguish at th? Stftony face of^elhridfefrooiiu he said: * I leave my Orders with you, to desfiatch^mewofrth*- bargemen to—W£lh o drag the-.canal between this and Mt Buccleugh's place, in the course of the night, unless I see you again, and countermand the orders. A tall girl, you know, a young thing, with black hair, and a gray cloak, and bonnet— was it Buccleugh ? Yes, that s her description.' . Without another word he sprang into the gig, and Alexander drove swift- - ly over Fountain Bridge, gazing with fascinated eye into the gurgling, abyss asthcy recrossed it. • ' They, dashed over the resonant chuseway first, to Portland street, to the railway station, where, after making fruitless mauiries, they left a description of the lost one with the station master, and then drove to the fashionable quarters of the city where Glencora was in the habit Of visiting. Composing their demeanour to correspond w-ith that bf gentlemen at ease, on a careless matter of business, they paused before the tall mansion of one of her intimates, opposite the Queen's Crescent Gardens, and rang the bell. A groom answering the summons, Captain Drummond sent in his card and compliments to the lady of the house, declining to enter, and begging to ftpow whether Miss Calvert was with her. The obsequious attendant faithfully delivering the message, the lady came cordially out herself, and, without circumlocution, told him that she had not seen either of .the young ladies for some days: Mt 1$ Miss Florice you inquire for.' said she, smiling at the captain's face Of gloom, which the honest fellow forgot to compose. . 'No, no; she's safe enough, Mrs GiUespie, but Glencora '—he stopped ■to master his increasing agitation— ' the fact is, she's too late in town, considering what she means to do tomorrow. Good-night, madam—goodnight !' and he silently took his seat again, and Alexander lashed the mare into a frenzy of speed. This is but a sample of how they fared in this braoch of their search. They called pn the girl's acquaintances, till it was too late to caR without startling their friends. .'■-.,. Then, at twelve of the night, when the chimings of a dozen bells were multiplying—when Alexander's wed-ding-day had slipped into existence at jagt—then the guardian and the bridegroom sat in the gig before the nuge building, hotly disputing. - *1 tell you, Buccleugh, thia won t do. It has gone beyond us, and we are only wasting time ; we are justified in calling in proper aid. And who is better able to assist in our search than the director of the detective force ?' cried the hot-headed sailor. 'No, no, Drummond, my fnend, wppld you have my girl's name in the xmhlie mouth, when she may even now b« safety aisleep in her holy innocence, unconscious of the anxiety she has^ caused us ? Have patience, sir, anu Bee vVhat we can.do for ourselves, before W set the detectives on her track as if she were a felon.' ♦Hohl there!' ejaculated the captain- rtot on her track, Heaven forbid I w\t on theirs who have murdered or htolen the lassie-'

' Oh, think of it, Drummond —this day was to have made her my wife !' groaned Alexander,''in the bitterness of his soul.

. The captain's big heart swelled nearly to bursting, and he laid his friendly hand heavily on Alexander's shoulder to comfort him.

' Oh, Drummond ! go—go do what you like—anything to recover her . lSetter that than further risk.'

Captain Drummond descended once more, and entered the office of the chief of police. Before he faced the anguished man again, he had put the whole matter into the hands of that superior power—her name, her age, her appearance —all, as if she had been a straying apprentice, or the heroine of a clandestine elopementshe, the dainty lady oi pure breeding. Captain Drummond's pride of exclusiveness, and his gentleman's care of all that fences woman from publicity, were thrown to the winds.

With stern faces the two men at length turned homeward, and as they passed Fountain Bridge, the captain did not stop to revoke his orderj At Lady-Bank the night had" crawled on fearfully enough, The girls never thought of retiring. Even Mrs Ellathorne, methodical as she wt)s, could not ignore the dread they all sighed under, though she still toiled with assiduity in the preparations for Glencora's wedding-day. She strove to keep her little bevy of white-faced myrmidons employed; too. but could not. chide them, however often the work was dashed down, and the workers out at the door listening in the night to the grit of feet upon the gravel, the stifled voices on the cu'iiai-side.

Once more the servants had been sent out with lanterns to search the grounds, the high garden, behind every shrub or tree in the rustic arbor, where she might have fallen asleep or fainted; every bracken-bed in the whispering grove had been felt and turned over, and, most important of all, the bank of the canal, among the standing corn. They flung their jackets off, and one holding aloft the light, the other two crept along the water-mark, shaking the petal-like srwwofe the brambles, bending the evil hemlock-weed over its poisonous roots; feeling the grassy bank, all daisy-starred and dewy, with hands that trembled to clutch something of hers by which to trace her; scaring the water-mole from his hole in the mud, the frog from its slimy stone. They flung the rays of their lantern far across the canal, and up and down its darksome winding, and started St the ripple-ripple they heard, as the rats plunged in and cleft the sluggish waters for the opposite bank. And they muttered together, as, at last, they stood on the path, eying the canal:

'Was it a white gown she had on? 'Na, na; it's no' her wears the white —it's Miss Florice. I canna mind what Jean said.' ~ 'Jean said, a black silk gown wi green ribbons, and weel she kens, for she dresses the young leddies.' And at last they strode back to the house, peering through the white columns of the standing corn on their way. And the gardener's boy stooped down'and put his hand into the kennel where Glencora's deerhound lay. and, as she felt its smooth coat and shivering sides, he raised a cry, and the other men came back with the light. ... There crouched Ossian, licking his. wet paws and heaving long sighs. Next minute they had him in the kitchen, and Mrs Ellathorne called down. She came in haste, with her maidens at her back; and the group Of servants drew back, leaving the dog exposed in the midst. Mrs Ellathorne ga zen at him in inquiring silence; but Florice cried out —ran forward to him, and, throwing herself on the stone flags, took him in her arms and kissed ,him, while he, whimperingly, tried fo lick her face and hands. 'Oh you poor old fellow!' sobbed Florice, hugging him. 'Where have you been swimming? Oh, doggie! Where's Glencora? Why did you leave her? You are the only breathing creature who saw her go—you only know where she is!' 'Hush, my child!' breathed her g-uardian's sister; 'there's One in heaven -knows well where Glencora, is, and will keep her safe enough, 111 warrant. Is Ossian wet?' The women gathered round Florice as she wept over her sisters hound, and it needed little wit to discover his silver chain broken—his silver collar twisted at the throat, as if by a brutal hand—brown weed on his silver chain, apd dust on his clotted ears. It was a" dreadful discovery, and suggested the canal again and ,at Mrs Ellathorne's frantic commands, they were coaxing the hound to pick up the trail at the back door, when the captain and Alexander drove round the house and saw themThe ladies huddled together in the door-way, the servants in the lobby asked no questions of them', their faces spoke of utter failure. Captain Drummond took a torch from a bystander, and, kneeling down^examined the weary Ossian. while Buccleugh stood by, with weary eyes fiyed upon him; and presently the captain ton-: ched the still wet chum with his ton-: jnie picked a brown fibre off the collar, and went into the house. 'Don't bother the dog about the canal-he hasn't been there,' cried he, over his shoulder, to the men Come, here, Hester—come, Buccleugh—girls, where are you?' He led the way to the deserted parlour. 'There's been worse than an accident happened, I fear,' muttered he, closing the door. 'That dog has been swimming for his life—not in the 3 but in the sea. The water on him is sea-brine, the weeds- on him am sea-grass. He followed them a pretty distance before they threw him in the tide. Who saw .this dog with—with her?' 'I saw him follow Malcolm when she carried out the cloak,' whispered Elorice, with white lips. 'I saw him with her when she came to us at the gate,' faltered Alexander. 'Glencora patted hiro when he leaped at her hands, and then Malcolm scolded him, and went back along the lane, dragging him by the chain.' 'And where did she leave him?

Nobody knew. For the fourth time the lady s maid was summoned. ... . ,-. , No longer hot and angry, but pale as the palest there,-she came. 'Why did you order the dog home When he followed you with the bonnet and cloak?' demanded the captain. She seemed to shrink within herself under the steady scrutiny of his keen blue eyes. 'Because I thought the twa young leddies liked him chained to the kennel when they gayed amang their flowers.' she replied 2 with an appealing glance at Florice. 'That's true, Guard! c,' said Florice, reassuringly, 'We have said so more

-. than once. 'And then Ossie,' resumed the girl, 'barked at me and whined till 1 lat him riii, and he scoured uwa to Miss Glencora.'

'-Not while she was with me, Mai- : coiiu,' breathed through Alexander's ! cold lips. She courtesied and maintained si- | lence, until they told hsr to withdraw, i No, no, no, the clue was not to be in ' their hands yet. As Alexander paced the apartment ! with contracted brows, his glance caught a bluish gleam from something on a chair by the window, and bending to look, he saw the casket he had brought for Glencora lying still open, the pearl bracelets shimmering with orient lustre. Standing with them in his shaking hand, his set face melted into tenderness, then blanched with direst misery; and for the first time his courage failed him, and he gave way. Throwing himself on a chair, he buried his face in his hands, still clutching the bridal oruaments, and groaned aloud in an abandonment of grief. Florice's wistful eyes, which followed all his movements with yearning sympathy, filled with hot tears at this, and she went over and sat down beside him, leaning her little head against his arm,, and seeking, like some faithful dumb animal, to soothe him by her silent caressing. The other girls gave each other an expressive glance, and hurried from the room, to burst into hysterical grief when out of hearing. 'Oh, girls!' wailed Jessie, 'if this goes on much longer he'll lose his reason. You don't know Alexander as I do. He just adored Glennie Calvert, though he is so strong in heart and mind. He's not easily moved, and the case must be terrible when even he at last is daunted.' 'Restrain yourselves, Marian and Jessie,' pleaded Madge Severn, crying harder than any of them. 'We must not be useless in this woful house. Let us see what we can do to lighten the burden. 'To see his proud head on the table, and his fingers clenched in his bonnie hair!' moaned Jessie again. 'And Flprice, the poor young thing, not seventeen, trying to comfort him,' responded Marian, her arms wrapped round the other two. Alas! alas! what a bridal!' exclaimed Madge, looking round the exquisitely arranged tables. 'Let us bring in something to the captain and Mr Buccleugh. Do you mind, girls, that neither have broken bread siuce luncheon? Haste! they're fainting with neglect, and not only with despair!' She hastily arranged some refreshment on aserver, and carried it in herself. Marian and Jessie quickly followed, with wine and cold fowl from the cook's pantry. They placed them on the table, and rested not till the captain had seated himself before the first mouthful he had tasted for many hours, poor fellow. And presently Alexander raised his face, pale and composed again, and looking at the gentle trio, smiled gratefully, and suffered himself to be placed at the tray. They quietly listened to the captain's brief relation of the night's search, holding each a cold hand to Florice's, and, by their hopeful looks, striving to strengthen her; submitting cheerfully to Mrs Ellathorne's next request,- which was. prompted by some whispered injunction from her brother, that they would retire to their rooms and take some rest. Yet they gave way to blinding tears once more, as, wrapped in each other's arms, they knelt at a- signal from Mrs Ellathorne, and the captain, with reverential fervour, offered a brief prayer for gufdance in their sore affliction, and for grace to bear, if hope were in vain. Poor Alexander, who was not used to the captain's simple worship, being, as he once gayly told Glencora, a sort of heathen, in his ignorance of family" routine, knelt humbly with i the girls, and, pressing his hands hard on his brow, seemed to glean firmness from the high source Invoked by his friends. Then the bridemaids went their way, and bolting doors and muffling windows sought to shut out the coarse voices and heavy steps of the bargemen with their drags. The: sweet dawn was creeping into Edinburgh over the crouching hills, and the western wind brought with it balmy scents of the golden gorse and sunny heather, -when Alexander and Captain Drummond went down to the canal to their horrifying task.. A dreary dawning it was, indeed, to them, and their best cheer was the * failure of every attempt to bring up the fair body of the lost lady. Still they toiled at their gloomy work till the men on the early barges shouted for the way, and the stout boat horse, trotting on the other side, trod down their ghastly implements—their ropes and hooks and stretcher—and with freer breathing they went back to slumbering Lady Bank. No rest for the two gentlemen, however, half-comforted by their ill success in the dragging of the canal; they both remembered how Ossian had proved to them the possibility of a still more startling discovery. They resolved, after two hours' rest, which was insisted on by the prudent Mis Ellathorne, to return to the city and pursue their search with this new clue in their hands. So the luckless bridegroom threw himself upon a couch in the house of his lost Glencora, and slumber, heavy and torpid, stole the hours of this, his wedding day, so long anticipated—so ardently desired. At nine o'clock a fresh horse from Alexander Buccleugh's stable was sent for, r- and the two gentlemen, J equipped and impatient, entered tbe sunny parlour to see the ladies. Poor things! Heavy-eyed and wan enough they looked after their night of tears and suspense. All the bright gleam was gone from Marian Gordon's glancing eyes; Madge wept and paled with every thought. Jessie Buccleugh leaned her flaxen head ag-ainst the window pane and looked at vacancy with her quiet, wistful eyes; and poor, stricken Florice had not appeared at all. Mrs Ellathorne, quiet, rigid, and alert, sat behind a small breakfast table, ready to seize upon the gentlemen when they should appear. > And when they did enter, it was the signal for a general but stifled outburst from the bride-maids. Poor Madge dashed down the pen with which she was endeavouring to write many little notes to the wedding guests, whose presence was not now desired, and the envelopes which Marian was addressing became suddenly blistered with a shower of hot tears.

Yet they heroically commanded their sorrow so much, and clustered round him with tender faces and murmured v ords of loving S3 rmpathy. 'Sit hem, Alexander,' said Jessie Bucctenyh, coming from the window

[with her prJe fae?. and leading him [ to a couch where the subdued light , should not reveal the proud heart's j anguish j The a tlie brought him food and sat ; beside him, talking in her indistinct ! tones, which made him stoop his head involuntarily to hear, and he ate mechanically as he did so. As for poor, j big-hearted Captain Drummond, he i ! gulped his nreakfast scalding hot, | I and glowered savagely into his cup, \ to prevent his swelling soul from i bursting, whenever be looked at the I quiet maidens in their sweet and | gentle ministry. I 'Where's Florice?' he blurted at last, as he fiercely tore on his gloves. i 'She's in—she in Glencora's dres-sing-room,' answered Mrs Ellathorne, with a tremulous voice. 'She moaning bitterly, poor child.' 'Buccleugh, there's the gig—get in, and I'll be after you,' said the captain, slouching his hat down over his brows. ' He went up the flight of stairs, and they heard him knock at the dressingroom. In two or three minutes he came down again and went straight out to the carriage. His face was purple as he got in beside Mr Buccleugh, and his voice quite indistinct as he lifted Ossian after him into the gisr, and held him between nis knees. 'We sha'ii't be back, Hester, before night,' said the captain, as they drove off; good-by.' They drove and they walked, they retraced and they twisted, they covered poor Ossian's head until he nearly bit, and they muddled poor Ossian's brains until Ossian did not know who he was, why he was, or where he was. Then they drove the three miles down to Portobello and set him on the sands and retired, after throwing him one of Glencora's gloves for company. Ossian looked about, ran hither and thither, shook himself and capered, then discovered, that he was alone, howled dismally, returned to the glove, fondled it, picked it up, and finally started oil' at a quick gallop along the road for Edinburgh. Hopefully the two watchers turned their horses' heads and sped after him. But, after dashing at a break-neck pace by the shortest possible cut, they discovered he was only leading them home. So they called him back, captured him—not much to his liking this time—and trotted off to Granton Pier.

'Perhaps some steamer lying there may have— Buccleugh, this is the morning that one of the New York steamships leave. If there was an elopement or anything of that kind—' The captain stopped with a jerk, for Alexander's hand fell like a vice upon his arm, and his face was blanched with a blaze of passion which flashed from his eyes and left his cheeks at white heat.

'Drummond, never whisper the like again,' he ejaculated sternly. 'My love was pure and true and constant. I could trust Glencora with my honour, and her life will go before it is betrayed. If we are going to Granton Pier to look for thei proofs of an elopement we go not there.' A gleam of actual pleasure illuminated the honest captain's eyes at the fiery outburst. He silently squeezed his friend's hand with an iron grip, and did not even ejaculate a word when Buccleugh impetuously wheeled round his horse and sped down the street again. , .. ...... .;•■■,-. . 'I'll tell ypu what,' said Alexander, in a few minutes, in his usual calm tones, T have just been thinkingvwould it not be possible that she went down to meet you on Long Pier on your arrival from Dysart, and perhaps missing you, as Malcolm said, have gone over in the next boat, hoping to see you there? Or, stay, may she not have gone for some reason to see her friend Lina Craig, who, you know, is dangerously ill?'

'Perhaps —perhaps,' said the Captain, dubiously. 'We can try Ossian.'

They trotted gingerly out to the very end of Long Pier and once more liberated the dog. And now, indeed, his movements invited speculation.

At first he erected himself: and looked around, then with a' sudden wild scurrying to and fro he picked up some trail —a very short one it seemed, for he ran ' round and round, never diverging into a wider circle, but always stepping close to the edge of the pier aud looking down into the surging water. And while poor Buccleugh and Drummond shudderingly approached he began to whimper and tremble, and at last he lifted his head and gazed out upon the sea, With a long, melancholy howl.

'Oh, what—what does this mean?' cried Alexander, with wild agitation. 'Oh, for a witness —one witness beside this dumb hound!'

'All this may be proving the truth of your suggestion about Dysart,' said Drummond, more calmly. 'Let us give some directions and ask some questions here and go over in the next boat.'

Which was done. The drags were brought, and the customary crowd gathered to enjoy a spectacle. All the questioning was fruitless, and Captain Drummond and Alexander Buccleugh escaped to the bonnie shores of Fife, leaving Edinburgh and its horrors behind them, and meeting—as doggie well knew, with his drooping head and dragging, reluctant steps— only utter disappointment in their visit to Lina Craig.

Why track them in all their plans, and their disappointments, through the long, wretched wedding day?

They returned from Dysart, and Kirkaldy, and met no livid corpse on the Long Pier as they feared, and drove to Leith and back again, and paid a visit to the Chief Director of Police, who manag-ed to comfort them a little by his prophecy of his myrmidons' ultimate success, and read the catalogue of all the passenger ships outward bound, and the railway lists, and the lists of English, French, Irish, Continental. American, Canadian and Nova Scotian ships, steamboats and transports. And then the sun was low. and their horses were exhaust ed and their own dauntless spirits almost conquered; so Mr Spires, the Chief of Police, told them to go home, and he would do the rest.