FOR LOVE OR MONEY

Auckland Star, Volume XXX, Issue 209, 4 September 1899, Page 6

FOR LOVE OR MONEY

By ST. GEORGE RATHBORNI

Author of "Doctor .Jack," "A Fair Revolutionist," "A Sailor's Sweetheart," "A Chase for a Bride."

CHAPTER XXV. SPINNING THE WEB 6

Some weeks had passed

All along1 tin; Hue the marquis found himself in a position to report progress. Mazette had removed to cosy lodgings in a respectable neighbourhood, and encouraged by the appreciation of this unknown but wealthy patron, she had set to work most diligently upon the task given her. Possibly she may have had no suspicion of the truth concerning these family portraits, save'! that they seemed to bear no resemblance to one another, and were, taken as a whole, about as uncommonly homely a eollecMon of pictures ,as one would meet with.

The little miniature artist would not have been a woman if: she had not indulged in numerous day dreams concerningl Ihis generous patron, while she laboured most faithfully to give him her best, work. Judging from the general run of the photographs, he must belong to a family not at all famous for their good "looks, but Mazette was quite an independent little body so far as outward appearances went, and \c,ry apt to judge the worth of a man by his heart.

Nor would she have been strictly feminine had she missed the opportunities to find out, something about her patron from M. Duval at the various times she had occasion to call upon the old picture dealer to return and receive work, the money for which was always awaiting her. Monsieur had himself a vein of curiosity in his composition, and from time to time he made inquiries as to whom this Marquis of Montezunia might be.

lie had no trouble in learning

London rang with his fame as an entertainer, whose feasts had never been equalled; nor was he backward about subscribing-to these noble charities that draw man nearer to Heaven.

Withal he was a most methodical man of business, and had a systematic way of treating all applications for assistance through the routine of his secretaries, thus saving himself from being fairly hounded to death or to insanity, as some people declare Barnato to have been.

The more M. Duval heard the greater grew his wonder and admiration — ho loudly boasted of having such a famous man for a patron, and had even seriously considered the advisability of announcing such envious patronage upon his modest signhoard, so that he might throw envious rivals across the narrow little street into convulsions.

Of course he took great pleasure in retailing this extravagant gossip to Mazette, and, to be sure, it did not suffer any in the transfer, for M, Duval, as a Frenchman, had a noble imagination.

Thus the miniature painter, to whom life had of late appeared so black and gloomy that <oie 'had even dared to tempt Providence in the hope of leaving such misery behind, found a new world opening up before her.

With nourishing food, and hope liiling her heart, the future appeared rosy-hued, and she soon began to appear like the cheery Mazette of old, whose gentle sympathy had wrought wonders with many a downhearted student in the realm of Parisian art.

More work followed —M. Duval sounded her praises aloud, and there were those who already thought it the thing 1o follow in the footsteps of the latest lion, so that Mazctte's future, seemed assured.

Thus it came about that one day there was a knock at the door of her studio, for success had enabled her to have a workroom such as she had longed to possess, 10, these many years.

Upon opening t'ho door the, little miniature painter saw t tall, heavilybearded gentleman, wluse air was somewhat foreign.

She straightway began to tremble, under the conviction that this must be her illustrious patron to whom she ow^ed so much; for, be it kriown, M. Duval had been artfully prevailed upon to give as elaborate description of the noble marquis as lay in his power.

When 'her visitor spoka his voice was deep and reassuring; and there seemed to be some rare quality about it that almost startled Jitt'e Mazetie, arousing ill-defined and hazy memories of the past which she could not whip into any concrete form, try as she might.

The marquis, Who was watching her very closely, could not but notice the start she gave at sound of his voice, followed by an eager, wistful, yet disappointed look.

He, at least, was quite, at ease, and apparently meant that she should be also, for as they progressed in conversation he even grew merry at times in discussing the wonderful merits of these worthy people whose pictures he was having transferred to ivory so t!hat they might grace the collection, which he had made his hobby.

At times he seemed to forget himself and fell into his native language, to as suddenly apologise for such breach of politeness.

Mazette was charmed with the marquis, and soon found herself quite free from constraint, chatting with him as with an old acquaintance.

He discovered a very different looking little woman from the thin, haggard creature whom he had borne to the window of the garret room in order that the fresh air might drive the deadly fumes of smouldering charcoal from her lungs.

She was more like the Mazette of old —new success and happiness had begun to bring back the roses to her wan cheeks, her merry eyes sparkled, and, taken all in all, she was a very attractive, picture even when wearingthe paint bedaubed apron with which she protected herself while at work.

"You will doubtless imagine my relatives to be a most remarkably

homely aggregation," he remarked, as they looked over several new portraits he had brought personally; "but I assure you, they are possessed of qualities which the photographer could not portray. Now, take this old gentleman, the, duke: you would hardly believe him to be n benevolent and philanthropical fellow, but to my knowledge he has served a good purpose in the world, and I have reason to be grateful to him." Thus he went on, with more or less hidden sarcasm back of his words, which, of course, .Mazette, not being in the secret, could not catch.

When the marquis offered his hand at leaving she was a little confused by the warmth of his clasp and the eagerness with which he promised to drop in again and see how the work pro-

gressed. Ah! Mazette had much to think of while her delicate brush laboured on.

Could she connect this sudden good fortune with the strange, event that had occurred in I'hc attic, when a friendly hand snatched her from the eager jaws of death? They came about the same time, and this mysterious friend could not have been a poor man, since with his note of: encouragement he had left Bank of England notes.

She had closely questioned her aunt, but, that happy old body could vouchsafe no positive information —true, she had an indistinct recollection of: seeing a man in the room, but her mind vviih too hazy to admit of any dets-

cripi ion

Mazette could only indulge in airy day dreams and occasionally laugh at herself in tine scorn because she gave way to such simplicity. VVJien the marquis left flic modest, little studio he was surprised at the glow of generous feeling thai came over him.

'•God bless the brave little womanit, does a man good to even bask in her presence. Here, at least, is no deception such as stalks abroad in society's circles—she had only good words for her fellow creatures. At least let me be grateful for Him privilege of being able to secure her future. This holy desire for her good may in a measure olVset the still fierce passion for revenge. At least it gives me joy, an experience 1 had never hoped to feel again."

Jlis other plans were, maturing

Evidently the marquis was in no hurry — neither i.s the satiated cut when she has cuug'ut a mouse that she

cannot devour

Trouble had come upon the house of Livermore — he could see a change in the captain, whose face began to lake on a more haggard look, for this lack of funds was a new experience to the famous traveller and explorer, and one that doubtless gave him more intense mental anxiety than certain occasions in his life when he seemed facing some dreadful catastrophe in the wilderness.

His losses a I ihc gaining tables were not all—indeed, it seemed as though circumstances had taken a fiendish delight in combining to smite this son of fortune at a time when he could not find a means of resistance.

The several companies controlling South African mines in which Livermore had investments, and which had been paying good dividends, were bought lip by some new combination, backed by unlimited capital, and there was a grave suspicion that the small shareholders were about to be frozen out in a way perfectly legitimate yet shockingly cruel.

And there were others, too

Keally, the doughty captain was passing through an experience that promised to make an old man of him if Jong continued. He seemed to have an undefined feeling that there was an unseen hand back of all this—that an enemy had done it, rather than chance, and such a sense of impending- disaster hung over him at all times that life became a burden, and but for his wife he would have considered the feasibility of again taking up his former work', though hardly fitted for it, now that years of idleness and good living had added so much avoirdupois to his frame.

Perhaps the marquis enjoyed watching the shadows flit across the captain's face as he surveyed him at the club or in private.

If any feeling of compunction struggled to raise its head he smothered it at the start by a visit to the garret room that had witnessed his grief when his heart was broken, and also the solemn vow he had taken to some day pay back with accumulated compound interest the heavy debt he owed humanity.

Thus he endeavoured to thoroughly convince himself that all these astonishing favours which fortune had so recklessly thrown in his way were but as a means to an end.'

He stifled conscience and hourly fought the same old battle, though each victory was won only at the expense of intense mental agony.

And each time he saw the worried countenance of Livermore he endeavoured to assure himself that such glorious results^were worth all these years of waiting, and that he was overwhelmingly glad he had not fired the shot when this man whom he hated was at his mercy.

Death —that wap oblivion, and vengeance could not step beyond the boundary of the grave—no; let him live, to curse the hour he ever saw the fair face that had brought this ruin upon him.

So matters went on, and with clocklike regularity the marquis was reaping his harvest, Twice he had called upon Fedora, and on each occasion exerted himself to fascinate as he had never before done in all his life.

That she did not know him was perhaps strange, yet consider the circumstances —her lover she believed numbered with the dead, and bis smooth face doubtless sometimes came in dreams to reproach her for jilting him—this man was' fullbearded, bronzed, and even, showing streaks of gray in his black locks — he was a Spanish-American, and talked at times with quite a decided foreign accent —besides, he was probably the richest"" man in London, a lion about whom society had gone wild. Oh, no; it was not so very singular after all that Fedora could not understand why this remarkably strange sensation came over her When alone with the marquis and listening to his deep, mellow voice, while his magnetic eyes held her spell-bound— eyes that somehow took her back to a part of her past which she could never exactly locate.

Affairs were in this state, and the marquis could see the possible tragic outcome of his systematic assault all along- the line, unless his nerve failed, ior something occurred to break

the stern resolution by which "he had bound himself.

A few more visits, lie believed, would complete the fascination of Fedora—harassed by accumulating- debts and mode boorish by his troubles, it might- be readily assumed that the captain would be anything' but an amiable companion these days, and the couple, never having had a genuine love for each other, would drift further apart.

This would be his opportunity—the glitter of his unlimited wealth, together with the strange hold 'he had upon Fedora, by reason of her oldtime love, 1 hough she herself might not know the real cause —these two combined should tempt her to leave the falling fortunes of the captain and seek happiness with the man who controlled her will.

It was a fiendish revenge, and many times the marquis cursed himself for entertaining it; yet the memory of his dreadful sufferings drove him back again with renewed zeal to pick up the threads of fate where he had dropped them and go on with feverish eagerness.

Others with far less cause had done such a thing — he had heard of dozens of eases.

Thus an honest 'heart convicted from within endeavours to shield itself behind others' sins.

It was only when he thought of Mazette that he winced and grew confused—not for worlds would h« ever have her know w*bat wicker! thoughts struggled with his better nature, and usually gained the mastery.

To Mazette he was all nobilitywhen in her presence he allowed this prisoner in his heart to find freedom, and lofty sentiments took the place of grovelling vengeance—yet, no sooner was 'lie away from the little sanctified studio than chaos again reigned within, to be always ended with the riot call, and victory for the worse and. baser elements of his nature.

London still talked of the modern Midas, for there was hardly a day he did not spring some surprise upon either society or banking circles. Men were awed by his enormous resources, and puzzled to account for his indifference to the myriad of brilliant schemes offered for his august con-

iderai ion

Wherever he went he was the cynosure of all eyes, and considerably to his annoyance his appearance upon the Strand jn his victoria was enough to create a sensation that would have done credit to His .Royal Highness the Prince. Still, this is the penalty greatness has to pay whether in the social, financial, scientific or military line.

Some men like it, others shrink from such gaping crowds, but the marquis appeared to be utterly indifferent either way, neither seeking nor shunning the plaudits of the curious mullitude eager to gaze upon a real live Croesus, whose hand turned all it touched to gold.

The marquis, still pursuing the one object of his presence in London at this unfashionable season of the year, dropped in at the establishment of Captain Livermore, resolved to play his cards to advantage since a crisis was near.

His quick eye noted signs of confusion, and he knew disaster had at last fallen upon the captain, who must seek a cheaper home— -yes, evidently 8 move was contemplated —his sturdy blows were beginning to tell, and fee should feel a glow of satisfaction in the region of his heart.

Perhaps he did— at least, he tried hard to imagine it was so, and possibly deceived himself.

At any rate the occasion would be propitious for his master stroke —surely he should be able to win her consent—what had she to consider but a ruined home, and a husband whom she had wedded while loving another.

He offered unlimited wealth, beyond the dream of the hiunan mind, love, and all the attractions the world can bestow. :

Yes, she would yield—'he knew how weak her nature was — had she not shown it when throwing him over for fortune's smiles? —she had no anchor such as the safeguard of a husband's love would throw around her—'he felt as assured of this as he had of anything in his whole life.

Still, there are some very unpleasant siirprises in this world.

He experienced one when the woman on whose loyalty he had been ready to stake his life betrayed him. Now,. When he was depending on the same weakness to ■ carry his point, perhaps she might develop unsuspected strength.

When the marquis entered the house it was with the confident air of one who has abundant faith to believe ill the positive success awaiting him— not over-confidence such as loses battles, but the quiet assurance that springs from a thorough knowledge of the powers he controls.

It chanced, however, that there was one thing he had not counted on, a matter that might seem of small consequence, and yet which must burst upon him with appalling force.

He had seated himself in the draw-ing-room and was noting- with a grim smile the many positive evidences of coming removal to be seen around— waiting for Fedora to appear, and expecting to see her with a troubled look upon her face which he would endeavour to disperse by the magic of his fascinating power, and wondering when the hour of his final triumph would come, as, coldly heedless of her prayers and entreaties, he might remove the mask to reveal himself as the wretched victim of her past duplicity that sweet hour to which he had looked forward all these miserable, suffering years.

And as he sat and waited sounds of a commotion were heard, such as caused the marquis to start, turn deathly pale and tremble as he had never done when bodily danger menaced him —then through the open door came dashing two little tots, one a golden-haired angel of three, the other a sturdy, black-eyed English lad of four—across the floor they scampered, straight to where the American nabob sat gripping the sides of his chair, and with the assurance some children possess, forthwith climbed directly upon his knees and took possession.

At that moment the fort was nearer I being carried by assault than since the | day its steel buttressed walls had been first barricaded against the forces of sentiment and the holier passions that come from above; for up to this hour this stern man, bent upon righting his wrongs of the past, had never once j suspected that Fedora was a mother, j and tlhe knowledge came upon him like a thunderbolt from a clear sky. (To be continued.)