IN WHITE RAIMENT

Auckland Star, Volume XXXI, Issue 310, 29 December 1900, Page 3 (Supplement)

IN WHITE RAIMENT

By WILLIAM LE QUEUX,

One evening-, while sitting in the hall with my hostess in the quiet hour that _. , precedes the dressing-bell, she of her The days passed merrily until the own accord began to chat about the end of September. There was never a curious phenomena at Gloucester auH moment, for Sir Henry's wife Sq" T a^ ei . ~ was one of those W host e SS e S who £%F %*"%£%?*£!*& always gauged accurately the tastes of discover the cause before we return her guests, and was constantly mak- to t°wn-" ing arrangements for their pleasure. be" to'^e^^'doorToc^edT TJI All the ladies—save one young "At present the affair is still unexwidow—and several of the men had plained." brought their cycles, and many were "Fortunately Beryl is quite as well the enjoyable spins we had in the as ever—thanks to you and to him." vicinity. The fashion of cycling now- "** was & happy thought of yours adays_ relieves a hostess of much re- to caJl me," I said. Hoefer wa's the sponsibility, for on fine days guests only man in London who could give can always amuse themselves provid- ncr life, and if ever the mystery is ing that the roads are good. I-obtained solved it is he who will solve it." a very decent machine ftiom Bath, and I noticed that she was unusually at Beryl's side accompained the others pate, whether on account of the heat, on excursions into Bath or Chippen- or from mental agitation I could riot ham, or on longer journeys to Malmes- determine. The day had been a blazbury, Stroud, and Trowbridge. In her ing one—so hot indeed that no one well cut cycling skirt, cotton blouse, had been out before tea. At that moand straw hat, her wealth of hair dres- ment everyone had gone forth except sed tightly by her maid, and her nar- ourselves, and as she sat in ai cane tow waist girdled by n belt of grey rocking-chair, swinging herself lazily chamois leather, she looked smart and to and fro, she looked little more than lithe awheel. As a rule, there is not a girl, her cream serge tennis dress much poetry m the cycling skirt,, for imparting to her quite a juvenile aplt is generally made in such a manner peaxance as hang baggy at the sides, be- "I hope you are not bored here, come disturbed by every puff of wind Doctor," she said presently, after we and to give tiie wearer the greatest had been talking some time, amount of unnecessary annoyance. "Bored?" I laughed. -"Why one has StSn Sh CU. lottes a™ "practical, if not a moment in * which to % c SJhS 5?™ erf with our This is the first h alf-hour of repose fhat LllLtt fSf mine dress' tad I've had since I arrived here." P StaS? ehT rwh°en a 7n°Ze Iffi lo°ked at T *!£**?' "* cannot be denied. Yet there is nothin* ™S, a curious snule f aid~ + . more graceful, nor more becomSg tS U p wX Be^v? "^ **""* S° taken a woman, than the English cycling ■„ G? !, T . , „ ekirt when cut by an artist in that h «? ry" , \-!°}°f' St&^f, form »i"»i' in cuai, qmc ijiy. "I really didn't know that!" Sometimes alone, but often accom- I fastened to protest, panied by our hostess, Sir Henry, or A\ n?> slf lav^ e<3. "To. excuse some of the guests, we explored all the yo? rsf f + 1S Mcl««». The truth is quite roads in the vicinity. My love con- P3,^ *? me > not to the others." stituted herself my guide, showing me ' ? he J ruth of Wflat?" I inquired, the Three Shire Stones, the spot where WI,S, affected the counties of Gloucester, Somerset The> truth that y°u loTe herand Wilts join, the old Abbey of La- I laughed aloud, scouting the idea, cock, the ancient moat and ruins at I did not intend to show my hand Kington Langley,. the Lord's Barn at for I was never certain of hex tactics. Progwell, the Roman tumuli at Blue "My dear Doctor," she said pleaVein, and other objects of interest in santly, "you may deny it if you like, the neighbourhood. but I have my eyes open, and I know She herself often suggested the rides, that in your heart you love her." for she Avas a cycling enthusiast, and "Then you know my feelings better always declared how T much healthier than myself," I responded, inwardly she had been since she took to the angry that I should have acted in such ■wheel. I, of course, was nothing loth a manner as to cause her to notice to be her cavalier, for it gave, me an my. fascination opportunity for long and interesting "One's actions often betray one's chats with her, nay, to bask in the heart. Yours have done," she replied, sunshine of her smiles when, as we « But j -would warn you that love with often did we sat and rested at some Beryl ig a da ™ erous g^me." rural spot where the quiet was only « Dailg . erous ? X don . t understand broken by the rippling of a brook or „ the rustle of the leaves overhead ,«j mean t t 1 j hen After my hard, laborious life mT. . . .-./ „ London, these bright hours, spent in «why toJossible?' £1 X £« %££?% ■ ™a». deed a welcome change But it was '^'l J + he. responded. Then looking not of that I. reflected. My every f*™l^* m™J *"*' she a^f; thought was of her. ' 'Could you, Doctor, keep a secret if I A score of times during the week told y°u one?" that had passed since my arrival at j "I think I couldL It would not' be Atworth I had been on the point of the first I've kept." declaring my love for her, and relat- "Well, it is for the sake of your ing to her all I knew. Yet I hesitated, own happiness that I tell you' this," By so doing I might arouse her indig- she said. "You will promise never to nation. I had spied upon her. I was breathe a word to her if I tell you." endeavouring to learn her secret. "I promise, of course." Thus from day to day I. lingered at She hesitated, with her dark eyes her side, played tennis, walked in the fixed upon mine. Then she said in park, danced after dinner and played a ] ow voice: billiards in the hour before we parted "Beryl is already married." for the night, with eyes only for her, « To wiom? » j as ked, so calmly that thoughts only for her, my life hers j think j surprised her. alone. Perhaps I neglected the other ~T o whom x cannot tell ymi » guests. I think I must have done. Yet << Wh not? gurel it is no secret ?" well aware how quickly gossip arises , Tes * - tig & gecre^ Ttat . g wh j among a house part^ I-was always dare no t tell you her husbands name." careful to remain sufficiently distant ttJ h act J ually the wife of young towards her to avoid any suspicion of r> ,- +wrw n-r,» J J flirtation. With woman's natural in- unfp Woa. , „ Etinct she sometimes exerted her co- „« * ? • i + -v- »t «v quetry over me when we were alone, "But she 1S engaged to him," I oband by that I felt assured that she was se™- . t,^ o+doo by no means averse to my compan- She 1S believed to be," my hostess ionship announced. "But such is not really Often'i gave young Chetwode a pass- the cas-e." ing thought. I hated the prig, anfl And her husband? Where is he? thanked the Fates that he was not It was strange that I should be askthere. Sometimes his name was men- ing such a question regarding my own tioned by one or other of the guests, whereabouts, and always in a manner that showed "In London, I think." how her engagement to him was ac- "Then is he quite content that his cepted by all her friends. Thus any wife should pose as the affianced bride mention of. him. caused me a sharp of young Chetwode? Such an arrangetwinge. ment is certainly rather strange." During those warm clear August "I know nothing of the whys and days spent with my love I became: wherefores," she replied. "I only somehow more confident in her Lady-1 know that she is already married, and ship's actions. Hers was a complex Ji warn you not to lose your heart to nature, but I could not fail to notice her." her extreme friendliness towards me, "Well, what you have told me is and more than once it struck me that cur jous, but I think " she contrived to bring Beryl and my- j rp^g remainder of the sentence died self together on every possible occa-, ■ n p on my Hp S , for at that moment sion. She told me off as Beryl's escort j3 ery x herself burst gaily into the hall, to dinner, to church, or elsewhere in. dllstv an A flushed after cycling, ex-

CHAPTER XXIV. PACE TO PACE.

a manner quite natural, and at the same time exerted herself to make me comfortable in every respect. Had she not herself once told me in a hysterical moment that she was longing for love? What, I wondered, could be her object in placing me always in Beryl's company? The motive puzzled me. • Little time, however, was afforded 4fe for rumination, save in the privacy of one's room at night. The round of % gaiety was unceasing, and, as one ** guest left, another arrived, so that we always had some fresh diversion and ? merriment. It was open house to all. We men were told that no formalities would be permitted. The tantalus was ever open, the glass ready, the soda in the- ice, and the cigars of various brands placed invitingly in the smok-ing-room. Hence everyone made himself thoroughly at home, and helped himself at any hour to whatever he. pleased. The phantasmagoria of life is very curious. Only a fortnight before I, was a penniless medico, feeling pulses and examining tongues in order to earn a shilling or two to keep the •wolf from the door, yet within eight days I had entered into the possession of a thousand pounds, and was moreover the guest of one of the smartest hostesses in England. I had been at Atworth- about a fort-i night, and had written twice to Hoe-j fer, but received no response. He was ! a sorry correspondent, I knew; for •when he wrote it was a painful effort With a quill. I ;- Bob Raymond had written me one; of those flippant notes quite charact .teristic of him, but to this I had not •**rerlied, for I could not rid myself of the belief that he had somehow played j^j_ toe false.

claiming — "We've had such an awfully jolly ride. But the others came along so slowly that Connie and I scorched home all the way from Monkton. .How stifling it is to-night!" And she drew the pins from her hat, and sinking into a chair began fanning herself, while at the same moment her companion, Connie Knowles, a rather smart girl who was one of the party, also entered. Hence our conversation was interrupted—a fact which for several reasons I much regretted. Yet from her words it seemed plain. that she did not know that I was actually her cousin's husband. She knew Beryl's secret that she was married, but to whom she was unaware. There is an old saying among the "contadinelli" of the Tuscan mountains, "Le donne dicono sempre il vero; ma non lo dicono tutto intero." Alas! that it is so true. That same evening when after dressing , I descended for dinner I ■ found Beryl in the study scribbling a note which, having finished, she gave to the servant. "Is he waiting?" she inquired. . "Yes, miss." "Then give it to him—with this," and she handed the girl a shilling. When, however, she noticed me standing in the doorway she seemed just a trifle confused. In this message I scented something suspicious; but affecting to take no notice, walked at her side'down the corridor into the hall to await the others. She wore pale heliotrope that night, a handsome gown which bore the cut of a first-class "coiirtourier," with a pretty

SfcrtHor of "Puiple ana Fine Linen," "Whoso Pindeth a Wife," "Of Eoyal Blood," "If Sbmera Entico Thee,** rrhe Bay of Temptation," Etc, Etc ! 4 (COPYBIGHT.)r

■ collar of seed-pearls. After dining1 !we danced together, and in doing so 11 glanced down at her white heaving chest, for her corsage was a trifle lower than others she had hitherto worn. I found that for which my eyes were searching, a tiny dark mark low down, and only just visible above the lace edging of the gown —the tat-too-mark which I had discovered on that fateful night—the mark of the three hearts entwined. What. I .wondered, did that indelible device denote. That it had some significance was certain. I had been waltzing with her for perhaps five minutes when suddenly I withdrew my hand from her waist, and halting, reeled and almost fell. "Why, doctor," she cried, "wihat's the matter? How pale you are." "Nothing," I gasped, endeavouring to assure her. "A little faintness, that is all. I'll go out into the night." And, unnoticed by the others, I staggered out upon the broad gTaveiled terrace which ram the whole length of the house. She had walked beiside me in alarm, and when we were alone suggested that she should obtain assistance. "No/ 7 I siaid, "I shall be better in a moment." "How do you feel?" she inquired, greatly concerned. "As thougtfi I had become suddenly frozen," I answered. "It is the same i sensation as when I entered that room at Gloucester Square." "Impossible!" she cried in alarm. "Yes," I said. "It is unaccountable, quite unaccountable." The circumstance was absolutely beyond credence. I stood there for a few mi mutes leaning upon her arm, '. which she offered me, and slowly the; curious sensation died away, until, a quarter of an hour afterwards, I found myself quite as vigorous as I had been before. Neither of us, however, danced again, but lighting a cigar I spetnt some time strolling with lier up and down the terrace, enjoying the oaJm, warm starlit night.

We discussed my mysterious seizure a good dealj but could arrive at no conclusion." After some hesitation I broached the subject which was very near my heaa*t.

"I have heard nothing of late of Chetwode," I said. "Where is he?" "I don't know," she responded. "His regiment has left Hounislow for York, you k>n>ow." "And he is in York?" "I suppose so." "Suppose? And yet you are, to be his wife," I exclaimed. "Who told you that?" she asked quickly, halting and looking straight at me.

"Everyone discusses it," I answered. "They say he is to be your husfoand very shortly. What would he say, I wonder, if he knew that you and I frivol so much together?" "What right has he to say anything regarding- my actions. I am free. "Then he is not your lover?" I inquired, in deep earnestness. "Tell me the truth." "Of course not. We lave danced together, cycled together, and walked together, just as you and I have done, but as for love—why the. thing is absurd." "You do no#love him?" I asked. "Certainly not," she laughed. Then she added, "I never love. That's why I am not like other women." "Every woman denies the tender passion," I said, smiling. "Well, I only tell you the truth," she responded with a slight sigh. "If every woman must love at one time in her life there must, of course, be some exceptions. I am one of them." ' "Ah, you do yourself am injustice," I declared. "Every woman has a heart." She was silent. Then in a hard, strained voice she answered: •'True, but mine is like stone." "Why? What has hardened it?" "Ah, no," she cried quickly. "You are always trying to learn my secret, but I can never tell yon —never! Let j us go in." And without another word j she passed in throug-h the French win-1 dows to the billiard-room, where the usual game of pool was in pi-ogx-ess, and the merry chatter g-eneral. Like that of her cousin, her nature was a complex one. The more I strove to understand her the more • utterly hopeless the analysis became.; I loved her. Nay, in all the world there was but one woman for my eyes. Superb in beauty amd in grace, she was incomparable—perfect. That nisrht when the household was at rest I still sat smoking in my room, puzzled over the curious recurrence of the sensation which seized all who entered that lethal chamber in L,onaon. The turret clock over the stables had chimed half-past one, yet I. felt in no mood to turn in. The writing of that hasty nx>te by Beryl was an incident which I had forgotten, but which now came back to me. What if I could discover its nature? She had written it upon the blotting pad in Sir Henry's study, and the thought occurred to me that I might perhaps discover the impression there. , ; With that object I placed a box of matches in my pocket, switched off my light, and crept into the darkness noiselessly along- the corridor. Thecarpeting was thick, and being with: out slippers I stole along without a sound past the door of Beryl's room and down the great oak staircase into the hall. . j I had crossed the latter and had my : hand upon the green baize door which kept out the draught of the corridors, a.nd was about to open it. when of a sudden my quick ear caught a sound. In an instant I halted, straining my ears to listen. In the stillness of night, and especially in the darkness, every sound becomes exaggerated and distorted. I stood there, scarce daring to breathe. . Through the great high windows ot the hall, filled*-with diamond panes like'the-windows of an ancient church, the faint starlight struggled so that the opposite side of the place was quite light. I glanced around at the .shining armour standing weird in the half light, with viziers down and pikes in hand a row of ssteel-clad warriors of the days gone by when Atworth was a stronghold. They looked a ghostly lot, and quite unnerved me. | But as I listened the auspicious sound again greeted my quick ear, and I heard in the door on the opposite ■ side of the hall, straight before me, a :

key slowly turn. E-ven in that dead silence it made but little noise. It "had evidentty been well oiled. Then cautiously the door gradually opened amd I saw that I was not alone. The dark figmre of a woman advanced, treading- so silently that she seemed, to" walk on air. She came straight towards the spot where I stood watching in the .darkness, and I saw that sha was dressed in black. As she reached the centre of the hall the pale light fell upon her face, and although wioertain.it was sufficient to reveal to me the truth. I was face to face with the woman who had been described by Beryl—the ; mysterious La Gioia! | CHAPTER XXV. j THE WOMAN IN BLACK. I The encounter was unexpected and j startling. I stood glaring at the dark : figure, unable for the moment to I move. | That dark face, with its keen, black eyes fascinated me. There was a look ;of evil there. What business could bring her there, stealthily like a ,thief? | ! She had halted in the centre of the | hall, and seemed to be examining ! some object, upon the Indian table {whereon tea was always served in the j afternoon. The light was just suffi- ; cient to reveal that she held some- ! thing small and white in her hand, but what it was I was unable to distinguish. The partial aboulia, as we doctors term the lack of ability to perform intentional acts, which had seized me on discovering the intruder, quickly gave place to an endeavour to conceal myself; and this I accomplished by crouching down behind a large square pedestal whereon stood a great palm. As I watched I saw her make a tour of the place, examining every object as though in search of something. Then, with deliberation, she passed through the door by which I had entered and crept noiselessly up stairs. She was ascending to the room of the woman who feared her. I stole along after her. It was an adventurous piece of spying, for the slightest creaking of the stairs would betray my presence, and oaken stairs creak horribly. At last I gained the top, and, as I stood, watched her steal noiselessly along the corridor past Beryl's chamber, to my own room. She tried the door cautiousty, opened it and entered. As though in disappointment that I was not there, she quickty

came forth, stood in hesitation listening in the corridor, and then creeping back stopped before Beryl's room. Evidently she was well acquainted with the geography of the house, and knew who occupied the various chambers. In the corridor it was much lighter than in the hall, and as she came to a standstill before Beryl's door I was quite close to her, crouching on the dark stairs, my head only on a level with the floor of the corridor. It was then I made a discovery which was j somewhat puzzling. While her right hand was free, one the left she wore a black glove. She bent at the door, peered into

the keyhole, and, having listened in order to satisfy herself that Beryl was asleep, slowly turned the handle to try if it were locked. Would she enter ? I stood watching her actions with bated breath. That she was there with evil intent was absolutely certain. The lock yielded, and, pushing open the door very slowly, she stole in on tip-toe, closing it after, her. What should I do? My love was in deadly peril. Of that I felt certain. She had defied the major, and the revenge of that all-powerful but unknown person La Gioia was upon her. She was alone, asleep, and at her mercy! To dash in and seize her would be to alarm the house, and perhaps compromise my loved one. Yet what could Ido to pave her? I had seen by the evil glint in her eyes that she was there with fell intent, and by the cautious, silent manner in which she moved, without hesitation or fear, that she was no amateur at such nocturnal visits. Indeed, she moved like a dark shadow, gliding without the slightest noise until one might almost have believed her to be some supernatural visitant. It was my duty, however, to protect my love, no matter at what cost. I had come there for that purpose, i having a distinct foreboding that ! some deadly peril surrounded her, j therefore now was my time to act to ' meet that woman face to face, and to demand an explanation. Upon this suggestion I acted without further delay, for, creeping as I noiselessly as she had done, I reached ' the door and slowty turned the handle lin order to burst in unexpectedly up|on her. i The handle turned, but the door would not open. She had locked it behind her. I bent to the keyhole. All was dark within. There was no sound. The noise I had made hy trying the door had no doubt alarmed her, and she was standing within, preparing to make a sudden dash for liberty. I drew myself up at the door prepared. Those moments were full of excitement. I held my breath, straining my ears to listen. There was no sound. The silence was like that of Irhe grave. My love was within that room, and her enemy was at her side. Should I. arouse the household ? Again I hesitated, fearing lest 1 should compromise her. Of a sudden, however, I recollected that in many houses the doors of the bedrooms frequently bear similar locks, and finding that the key had been removed by the intruder, possibly for the purpose of watching' my movements from the inside, it occurred to me that, I might try the key of my own room. Yet if I left my post she might escape. She was evidently watching her opportunity. Fully ten minutes passed, each second ticked out loudly by the long grandfather's clock at the further end of the corridor, until I could stand the tension no 'longer, and receding slowly backwards, with my 4 eyes still upon the door ready for La Gioia's dash for liberty, I reached my own room and secured the key. Then slipping back again I placed the key swiftly in the lock, heedless of the noise I made, and turned it. It yielded and a second later I stood within the room. An involuntary cry of amazement escaped me and I drew back. ! I dashed towards the bed, but it had not been slept in. The room, with its great mirror draped with silk, and silver toilet set catching the pale light, was empty! I The window stood open, and springing towards it I saw to my dismay a rope ladder reaching to the ground.

Both La Oioia and my well-beloved had disappeared. I looked out, but all was dark across : the park. The night wind rustled in the trees and a dog- was howling dismally in the kennels. Cpuld she have beeu a.waiting- her there and have left in her company? The discovery utterly dismayed me. | I ran to my room, obtained a cap and boots, and returning passed through the open window, descending by tie ladder to the terrace. Around the house I dashed like a madman, and i down the drive towards the lodge gates, halting suddenly no-w and then with my ear to the wind, eager to j distinguish, any sound of movement. 11 was utterly without clue to guide me las to the direction the fugitives had j taken. Four and five roads and paths [led from the house in various directions, to Atworth village, to Corsham, and to Lacock, while one by-way through the wood led out upon the old high road to Bath. The latter went straight into a dark copse at the rear of the house and would afford ample concealment for anyone wishing to get away unobserved. All the other roads cut across the park, and anyone travelling along them would be visible for some distance. Therefore I started down the by-way in question, entering the wood and traversing1 it as noiselessly as I could, and emerging at last into the broad, white high road which I know so well, having cycled and driven over it dozens of times. I calculated that the fugitives had about ten to twelve minutes' start, and if they had really taken that road I must be close upon them. The road ascended steadily all the way from the Wormwood Farm to Ktngsdown, yet I slackened not my pace until I gained the crest of the hill. The moon had come forth from behind a bank of clouds, and it was SO' lig-ht that any object upon that white open road could be seen for a long distance. Having ■gained the hill top at the junction of the road to Wraxall I stood and strained my. eyes down both highways, but to my disappointment saw no one. Either I had passed them while they ! had hidden themselves in the wood, or, I had mistaken the direction which j they had taken. (To be Continued.)

that a programme is necessary. In spite of his prudent resolutions Godefroid did not have courage to lose sight of the roof under which the idol o1: his life would soon, open hex charming eyes to tie light. He wandered about, near the house, hiding1 \inder the trees, and bahind clumps of bushes, like a lover obliged to -use mysterious caution. He spent three hours hoping to see her approack and to catch a look that would permit him to believe that she was looking for him. But Jenny did not appear. TOO breakfast hour was drawing near. He lOvS'fc patience, and entered the house, thinking that doubtless she I was tiring her beautiful hands with j the various arrangements of a long i neglected house. But one glance showj ed him that he was mistaken. Jenny I was seated in the little parlour reading over a long letter that she had justwritten. She arose when she saw him, and came toward him with shining eyes and animated countenance, holding in her hands tire freshly written pages. "Now, then," said she, "I have done: my best to replace you. Read my let- j ter, and add a few lines at the bottom j lof the sheet. When does the mail i leave? It would be too bad if this friend, who is so far away, should go more than a week without news from tts. He would think that we had forgotten him." Then Godefroid remembered that the night before, in some way, the conversation had turned upon Patrice. "About this time he must have reached his forests," the young woman had said. "You ought to write to him." He had promised to do so, , confessing at the same j time his horror for all letter writing, so much so, that Jenny offered to take his place. After breakfast was over Godefroid eagerly read the lines she had confided to him. The most jealous being could not have found the least, complaint with this familar chit-chat that had no hidden meanings. The young woman told of their arrival, avoiding all that could approach unpleasant details. She spoke of the emotions that she experienced at seeing her