A DREAM OF LOVE.

Auckland Star, Volume XXXIV, Issue 59, 10 March 1903, Page 6

A DREAM OF LOVE.

(By BERTHA M. CLAY.)

CHAPTER LIT

THE RINGING OF THE BELLS.

Vincent did not employ many words in the story he had to tell the young earl and his two friends.

"I don't want to whitewash myself," he said. "I was false and ungrateful to a good master, for the sake of money; I wanted money. I was ready to sell my soul for money, but Heaven knows that was my greatest crime. I never dreamed that my new master was capable of murder until I met with the Italian—a man named Cavalli—who has gone to him this day for justice. He married Cavalli's sister years ago, then employed a doctor to kill 'her—to put her out of the way." "And is Miss Tremayne still safe?-' demanded the earl, feverishly. "She was safe last night." "And why did she go to the scoundrel's house at all?"

"He got her father there, then pretended that he was dying, and Miss Tremayne fell into the trap. His idea' is to for.c her into marriage, and he has arranged for the ceremony to take place to-day. Listen, my lord; it cannot take place. Cavalli will kill him, most, assuredly. Cavalli has been tracking him for years. "Then when the duke thought that I knew too mush, and was of no further use to him, he followed me last night; he shot me in the back, took away what money he had given mc, beat me with his fists, and I am dying." "There is hope yet," said Dr. Allbright. "If you say so. sir, I have hope," replied Vincent. "One question," interrupted the doctor. "H.w do you come to know me? Why did you telegraph to me?" "I knew you as Miss Tremayne's friend. I wanted you to come and help her. Tt was T who found out the retreat of the earl, mv young master; it was I •who discovered that Mrs. Temple was Miss Tremavne. and T got into your house by pretending that I had a sister who wished to consult you." "I remember the circumstance." the doctor said. "My friend, you have not the colour of a dead man. From the nature of your wound, the bullet appears to have entered the pleural cavity, and caused a number of internal hemorrhage j Keep perfectly still until I am able to see you again." __ Vincent looked hopeful, and a wistful light,came into his eyes. "You will forgive me, my lord—my young master?" be asked. "1 played with you when you were a baby, and I have "often resolved since I began the "business of professional spy, to tell you all." 'Vincent, there is one thing that speaks in your favour; you have not spoken one evil word of my mother, the countess. I know everything from her own lips. Not only do I forgive you freely, but if you recover you shall never want a home. You are an old seiwant, and I will not forget you." The earl pressed his hand as he spoke, and the man seemed overcome by gratitude and shame. He turned his face away, and cried weakly. Sir George Granville summoned the policeman, who was vainly endeavouring to learn what was going on inside the joom. "We are going to Medford Hall,' he 6 afd, "'and you had better come with v... The man who shot Vincent is there, and you may be wanted. Go downstairs and order a fly. We don't want a curious crowd at our heels." The officer hesitated a moment. His superior officer bad told him not to desert his post. "If you delay, we shall dispense with T our services," said Sir George. "There •'is nothing here for you to do^the man has made his statement to us." The policeman saluted in scmi-mibtary fashion, and quickly departed. He fancied that Sir George's tones had a significant ring in them. An arrest was to be made, after all. *~,,, "Of course, we must have Medtorct arrested" the baronet decided, "and that forthwith. By this means all his scheme.. will fall to the ground. We will charge him with murder, or attempted murder. V'ith abduction and various other counts. w.hich will look very formidable when arrived in the vague redundancy of approved legal phraseology." ■ '-Toil will never arrest him, gentlemen." broke in the voice of Vincent. "He is dead; I am sure of it. The Italian < left here _ little after daybreak ; he left j here to kill the man who betrayed his sister. The news may come at any moment." In .fifteen minutes the policeman returned, and announced that a fourwheeled fly was at the. door, and the party Avasted no time in starling for the Half. 'Vincent's belief, and positive assertion of more tragic events, filled Lhsni with grave apprehensions. So anxious was the carl concerning Marian Tremavne that he could not longer Cast hiniself to .peak. His heart was full of mingled fury and dread. As they stepped into the closed carriage, another vehicle stopped at the door, and n voice demanded how the injured man farad. "T have left orders that no one is to \y admitted to his room." spoke up Dr. Allbright. "I am a physician, sir." -"Then he is better? I am the clergyman of this parish, and am glad that he is not in urgent need of my services, as T have a pressing engagement at Medford Hall."

"And so have we," spoke up the doctor, quickly. "Ancl our business may '.be identical." Tlie clergyman smiled pleasantly. "You are friends of his grace," he said, "and I see that he has invited you to his wedding. lam to officiate. I suppose you are going to the hall now?" "yes. T am really glad to have mot you. Oblige by allowing your coachman to lead the way."

••With pleasure." The vehicles rolled away, the occupants of one full of pleasurable importance, the occupants of the other stern and grim, the weight of a great oppression upon them. "Even ii the rascally duke's plans are favourable to himself thus far, we are ;.:-. least in time to foil him," Athol said, with some satisfaction. '•_ am puzzied bow the clergyman and his curate have fallen into the trap, i am sure that the vicar would countenance nothing of a doubtful nature." Sir George Granville eagerly scrutinised tae face of the lodg.-keeper as he ; .fiied the gates. The m_n did not hesitate to admit them, seeing that they accompanied the vicar, and there was no shadow upon his features; he evidently believed that all was well with my lord duke, and smiled in a knowing sort of way. "Good morning, Adams," the vicar said. "I hope that the trouble that has befallen the secretary has not upset his grace." "I hope not, sir, and I ain't sure that my lord knows about it yet. The butler did say there «was no need to worry him on his wedding day." "The ease is not so bad as was at first reported," the vicar replied. "The duke's London physician, who is behind, has just left the wounded man." The lodge-keeper touched his cap to the carriage and grinned. "It isn't a very bright morning for a wedding, and the wedding of our great duke, too," Adams went on, "but we've planned a little surprise, sir, me and the butler, and Williams, sir, and i may ns well tell you about it, as bis grace may blame you." "Blame mc?" "Yes. sir. You see, sir, Williams, the professional bell-ringer from Birmingham, is down here, visiting his sister, and he got talking about your peal of bells, sir, and didn't think they could \ be of any account in this little j parish. So'the butler lets up and says they arc. the prettiest in tbe country, and promised Williams he would get you to let him chime them, sir. Well, be showed them to Williams, and we planned a surprise, and his grace will have the grandest wedding peals in the v.'orld, for nobody can beat Williams!" At first the clergyman and his curate, who Avas with him. were annoyed and j angry, for my lord had expressly forbidden any bell ringing, and his displeasure would be great. It was two miles to the church, and they were only just, in time for the ceremony. To go |back and turn Williams out of the belfry would occupy an hour. There was no help for it, and, after all, there would Lot be much harm done.

"This may cost, you your place." he said, severely- "His _race particularly requested that there should be no demonstration until his return home next spring." The lodgekeeper looked a little crestfallen. He admitted that the servants were aware of the quiet nature of the wedding, but the peals that Williams would ring would more than compensate for the liberties they had taken. At that moment the wintry air was startled by a fantastical prelude, wafted from the church tower that stood noon the hill behind the village of Medford. "That's Williams!" exclaimed the lod«-e-keeper. "That's him, sir, but what's he ringing!"

The man is pbving a joke upon us," the vicar ejaculated, angrily. "-lore like he's drunk, sir. He told us 'that he could always ring better when he'd bad a drop."

The vicar stepped out of his carriage, in great perplexity, and was joined by Dr Allbrh-ht and Sir Georg. Granville, for the air was now flooded with a medley of sounds. Never had the bells of Medford Church rollicked in this ri_sonions fashion before.

"I will instant!" disoh. rgo the yor^r for givincr up tho keys without consultin? m<\" the clergyman fumed. "Gentlemen, wo bad better proceed to the bouse, and it is to h. honed that his gra^e cannot hoar tho road jingle. A man r".vM he sent on horseback to put a stop to it." But the sounds of jocundity suddenly changed to n. requiem, and the vicar and v.;, orrrto were shocked when Sir George declared I hat n ' lir r>-o wa-- more appropriate tha. a r-onfr- of mirth. "This Williams, whoever he may be. is o-in-od with n two .bofi" soul." he said. "You surprise ire. sir. The men must ho drunk, and has in his mind Hie outrage committed uno. the dike's peeref.trv. Let us rr. to the ho"so pf Oliee. TTis (Trace will he o-rr. nprr irnnationt." The cnrria.es moved slowly forward. ! 1r,,-,,-;,-,_ f}.r. Wp'oVoonor in a very unt hapnv frame o f mi. /I and tho fitful wind brought to their pnr* tho boaiiti.nl and n-,nr>rr. = = ;vo hymn. "'TT- C'^rn^ih fo .TnrlTe ).j.p T?.rt_ " chimed upon the hells with eoulful solemnity.

' "Bay of wrath, oh. day of l^on-nine. Pnp fulfilled the nr-n .bet's warning. TToaven and earth in ashes burning. "Oh, rrTint fear man's hoso* _ ro>->r Ir ._ When from lien.on th" Tnrk_ • descend otto. o n whoso sentence all depont.oth. •'Wondrous sound lhe trumpet _ in.oth Tlirou.h earth's h> emilehres it ringeth. All before lhe throne it bringeth. "_io n th is struck, and nature quaking. AT] creation is awaking, To its Judge an answer making. •'Wln-n the .Twl.s.o His seat . ttaineth, And each hidden deed arr algncth. Nothing unavenged remaineth.

"Ah, that day of tears and mourning, From the dust of earth returning, Man for Judgment must prepare him, Spare, oh, God, iv mercy, spare him."

A shudder ran through Athol's very soul. What was the meaning of these awful sounds? Did they presage good or evil? Were the bells under the control of some avenging spirit? Sir George Granville aud Dr Allbright were strongly affected, too, but the stolid face of the policeman never relaxed one iota. To him the bells were ringing—that was all. He merely remarked that "They weren't so lively as they was sometimes!" And now succeeded that thrilling ode to death, which is in itself deathless: "Vital spark of heavenly flame, Quit, oh, quit this mortal frame; Trembling, hoping, linL-'rtns. flying. Oh, the pain, the bliss of dying, Cease, fond Nature, cense thy strife, And let me languish Into life. "ITnrk, they whisper. Angels say: 'Sifter spirit, come away.' What is this absorbs mc quite, Steals mv senses, shuts my sight, Drowns my spirits-draws my brc_.li? Tell mo. my soul, can this be __at_. "The world recedes; it disappears; Heaven opens on my eyes; my ears With sounds seraphic rins;. Lend, lend your wings. I mount; I fly. 0 grave, where is thy victory? O'death—O death, where is thy sting?" Following this was a brief silence; then came the solemn nnd awe-inspiring sound of the passing bell, its monoton-j ous dirge striking _. chill into every heart. As the two vehicles neared the house, half-a-dozen servants came forward,; among whom was a butler, and the vicar; at once addressed him angrily. "Has his grace remarked upon the! bell-ringing?" h. demanded. "The r-.iani you have arranged Avi&- to ring thorn is evidently intoxicated, and some one had, better be sent to stop him." j "I think it must be by the duke's; orders, sir," the butler replied. "1 thought that you had given Williams the order to ring the passing bell." "What nonsense are you talking? Tsj not this the duke's wedding day? l.er.i are several guests, and the bride :.uu_tj be waiting"

"That may be, sir; but Mr Tremayne died this morning, and I'haven't seen my master since eight o'clock. He is engaged in the library, in the west wing, with a foreign-looking gentleman. I believe that he wants no alterations in the wedding arrangements, as everybody has strict orders not to mention the death of the old gentleman in Miss Tremayne's hearing."

"The lady is well?" the Earl of Lytte demanded, tremulously, for be was now standing at the side of the clergyman. "Yes, sir; I believe so, sir."

"Thank Heaven! thank Heaven!" cried the young man, much to the astonishment of the vicar and the butler. "Come, Granville; come, doctor. There is no need for further waste of time. Officer, you stand in the hall, ready to obey us, if your services are needed.*' The clergyman and his curato Here simply dumfounded, and looked appcalingly at our friends, while the butler put on an air of dignity. "Gentlemen, I cannot admit you until I know your business, and I don't think that we've got any use for a policeman here." "I haven't a card," Athol replied, "'hut go direct to his grace and inform him that Lord Lytte and some friends dcaire to him immediately." The butler was satisfied, and the party followed hint into a reception-room. "Gentlemen," Athol continued to tho vicar and his curate, "there will Do no wedding to-day. Miss Tremayne has been decoyed here against her will by a scoundrel, and that scoundrel is the Duke of Aledford. If you choose you can stay to see the villain unmasked — the villain who attempted last night to murder his own servant. lie is even now engaged with tlie brother of some poor girl that he has ruined-" Just then there was a loud yell of her-; ror from one of the servants, and tiie! passing bell said: "Toll, toll, toll!" (To be continued daily.)