Her Ransom
By CHARGES GrARVXCE. A-&-T Of « LESLIE'S ,-Elai-_," *'*A WASTED- LOTS," " H_E -f-AET'3 DESIKE," etc.
• CHAPTER XXlV.—Continued. > "I suppose you are surprised and startled to see such a warm friendship between the great Miss Hope and a poor opera, singer, my lord?" and she looked up at his dark face with a mischievous raoek gravity. Lorrimore smiled. "I am rather surpE&ed," lie said. "1 know how proud you are; but I am very glad. How did you——" : "Oh, it's too lousr a story to tell," said Sylvia. "Suffice it tlmit, we detected an electric bond of sympathy between us, ajid that we caaua together by mutual attraction, and that—'here we are. And now, if you will promise not to be too elated, we will remark how glad we are to see you. a;nd express a hope that you have abandoned the role of Wandering Jew forever." Audrey's and Lorramarc's faces flushed, but Audrey's grew pale again. "You -are looking absurdly well." Sylvia ran on; "but you must tell us you adventures. Never mind Miss Hope; she need not listen \inlcss she likes." Lorrimore stole a glance at the downcast face. "There's not much to tell," he said, fcesitatingly, as 'he wondered what Sylvia would say if she knew how closely Audrey was connected with, his "adventures." I have just come back from Switzerland " The servant knocked at the dooi**-and entered. "Miss Mercy's love, madam, and it is time to dress." Sylvia nodded and smiled. "You see Mercy is still my guardian angel," she said. "She watches over tne almost every hour of the day. 1 aau sorry she is, not here to see you; but she is not well, and I have made her resit. I must mm. away and put my cloak on. You Avail come to the opera to-night. Lord Lorrimore?" He looked down at his suit of grey iwced. . "'Oh, you can go 'in the pit as you arc not dressed,"' said Sylvia, and she laughed. Audrey rose with her. "I—l will come with you and help, you dress, Sylvia," she said. LorrimioTe's face fell, and he put out ■ his hand impulsively. j "One moment, Miss Hope,"' he said, | urith repressed agitation. "Oh, prisy stop and keep him amused for a few minutes, or 'he will be off to j the other end of the -world, perhaps, before I can get down," said Sylvia, as she ran from ibe room. Audrey sank, back in her seat, and Lorrimore rose, and took a turn across the room; them he returned and sat down beside her again. "Audrey," ho'said, and his voice trembled, "though I came back to see you, und only you, this meeting is so sudden and unexpected that'l can scarcely believe'that if is really you sitting so near mc. . I aim afraid that I startled you, that—Audrey, you .are not sorry to see mc?" he broke off, for her face had grown paler and more constrained, sis if "she disliked being alone with him, as he thought. „. r,«t _. x am very glad to see you, Lord LoTrimore,^'" she said; ihut there was ho gladness in her voice, ne noticed, and his heart fell. • "T ahi' afraid"you will not be very glad when I tell "you that I have come 'back nnsuceestsful, and without any good news for-you," he said, regretfully, iind as humbly' as if it were all his fault that he had not brought the missing Neville-in his, pocket. "1 have not 'found '.your lost friend. I have not even fcjefen able to hear of him. They say the world is very small." He smiled. • "Anyway, it is large enough to bide Neville Lynne. I think there is scarcely a likely place that I have left unexplored; but he seems to have disappeared as completely as ,it the earth had opened and swallowed him." "It i's very strange," said Audrey in a low voice, .but almost coldly. Lorrimore was rather by iher apathy. The least a man who has been scouring the habitable globe ior nearly three years to please a lady has a right to expect is that the ladyshould display some interest in the result of his wearisome mission, but Audrey did not appear to feel anything of the kind. J/orrhnpre, if he had not been so passionately in love with her, might have felt hurt at the absence of even thanks; Ibut whatever Audrey said or did or thought seemed just right and perfect in his eyes, and he went on: "I dare say you wondered why 1 didn't write to you?" Audrey's lips quivered, but no sound came. "Heaven knows, I wanted to write to you often enough; but I thought that —that you would think I was bidding for your sympathy, and—so I kept *ilcnit. You see, I hoped to bring your friend back to you. But I haven't, and .—and, Audrey, I have, bo right; to go on; no right to tell you of what lies so near my heart." • .She did not forbid him to continue, and of course he went on, his voice itiembling with eagerness. "When I started, Audrey, you—no, you didn't say a word; but I thought. I hoped, that if I were successful, that —that you might perhaps feel I had done my. poor best to prove, my love for you. Not that it wanted any- proving, for I think, Audrey, that you have always known that. I have loved you, and that you might, I mean " He broke down, stammering' like a schoolboy, and leaning forward, took her hand and held it, though it struggled feebly in his grasp, 'Audrey, is there any hope, for mc? I don't want lo trade on this search business; it -was nothing, after all, except ■the being parted from you so long." At this piece of masculine simplicity the tears began to gather in Audrey's eyes. "I don't want to take advantage of it in any way. I'd go all through St ngiin to please you, even if you told imc that there was no hope for mc. I love you, dear, Audrey, more devotedly
—ten thousand times better than ever, if that were possible. Yon see, I have spent the last three years thinking of you. In frost or heat, in city or wilderness, your dear presence has seemed to 'be with mc. Sometimes I have dreamed —and when did I not dream of you?— that you were actually near mc; that I could feel your hand in mine, and hear your voice—actually hear your voice. Then, when I woke up and found it was only a dream—• — Well, then I felt bad, and wanted to conic posting home." A tear ran down Audrey's cheek, and fell upon "her'tightly-clasped hand, but she did not speak, though she knew that she ought to stop him. But there is no music under heaven—not the thrill of the nightingale, the clear note of;the thrush, the curlew's song on some, moonlit river—so sweet to a woman's ear as tho voice, of the man she loves pleading for 'that love; and Audrey n .ould not bid it cease. ''Sometimes." he went on, "I have tortured myself fancying that you bar 1 forgotten mc, or that some other anr 1 better man had won your love, and tha! T should come back and find you were his wife. My heart leaped when 1 heard Sylvia call you by the name 1 have whispered to myself in the silent night, and I knew that you were still Audrey Hope." A tremor seized Audrey and she tried to stop him, but she could not speak. "It was Sylvia who told mc that 1 ought to come back to the woman 1 loved, and tell her that I loved her, and that I ought to ask her to—to try and love mc in return. Did I do right, Audrey? Is there any hope for mc, or ought I to have, stayed away and ceased to trouble you';" Her hands untwined, and he "eiaod the opportunity to take the one nearest to him. It was burning hot. ''Tell mc, Audrey," he said in a lowvoice. "'Whatever the verdict is, I will try and bear it. If—if what I want cannot be, I will go away and trouble you no riiore. Audrey, will you be my wife?" She turned her face from hint that he might not see the awful longing in it. the longing to throw her atJTij round his neck, hide herself in ]m strong arms, and give him love for love. Perhaps, with a lover's intuition, he read her heart, for he put out his ariss toward her; but with a low cry that was half sob, half moan, she shrank from him and ''No., no!"-* broke from her trembling lips. Lorrimorc's arms fell to his side, c.vA Wm face paled. "It is 'no'!" he said, almost inaudibjy. "That is your answer, Audrey?" His head drooped, and be put his hand up to stroke his moustache to hide the tremour of his lips. "Well, I —l must bear it. I— l am sorry that I have troubled you, Audrey. I might, have known why you shrank from mc when 1 came in just now— —" "No, no," she said. He shook his head sadly. "Yes, you did. I saw it,*but Well, I went on hoping. It is hard for a man to give up the hope that he has been nursing for years, the hope that ; lias been keeping him alive when everything seemed against him." ■■ He was silent for a moment, gnawing his moustache, then lie glanced at her and saw the tears rolling down her face —the face which lie had loved to picture as bright and happy—and his heart smote him. He called himself a brute to worry this radiant, beautiful creature who was born to wear a smile, and go through the world as sorrowless as some tropical bird. 'Don't cry, Audrey." he said, gcntlv. "It does not matter. I shall get over it! Better fellows than I am have had to hear this kind of thing, and I am not going to make you miserable by hanging about you with *a handkerchief to my eyes. I will accept my dismissal at last. 1 — I think I'll take myself off now. Tell Sylvia—l've got to hear how you and she became such friends.' by the way—tell lier I'll come and hear her sing some other night, and—and goodbye, Audrey. I hope you'll be happy whoever yoit marry." He stopped abruptly, for something m Audrey's face told him, swiftly as a lightning flash, that there was some one already. He stood looking down at her, his eyes fixed upon her as if he feared to put the question that yet must be put. "There is some one, isn't there, Audrey?" he said in a low voice. She did not answer,' at least in words, but her head sank lower, and her face grew hot as if with shame. "Who is it?" he asked, in a voice he tricd> to keep steady. '. " ■ - Audrey tried to lift her eves to his, but it was as if a heavy weight hung on her lids. " • "I — I am engaged to — to Jordan Lynne,' came in a whisper at last. Lorrimore started, and a terrible change came over his face. His Spanish blood, what little.there was of it, would have glowed if she had mentioned any other name, and his heart would have winced; but the name of Jordan Lynne set his blood on fire. That man to be her husband! Jordan the husband of his beautiful Audrey! The woman whom so many good men and true loved perhaps almost as well as he loved her! The thought nearly drove aim mad. He knew—felt—that the man was a villain, ju&t as Neville and several others felt it. And this smooth, subtle Sir Jordan was to wed his Audrey. He could not speak; his handsome face grew black, his eyes glowered upon her as she shrank in all the splendour of her evening dress, and his tall form seemed to dilate and tower over her like thnt of some indignant and outraged god's. "Jordan Lynne!" he said. "Jordan Lynne! It is not possible." He waited as if he expected her to tell him that he had misunderstood her: then he drew a long breath, and looked round for his hat, caught it, up, and all unconsciously crushing it. in his. hands, said: . ; "I take that back. I can't:wish you happiness, it would be useless. Jordan Lynne! You are going to marry him!" and dashed from the room. Sylvia was just coming.'in, and he ran agaiust her and sent her slight form spinning against the wall; then he seized her by the arm, and instead of apologising, cried in a low but tenable voice: "Good-bye, Sylvia: I'm going.',' "Going! Where?" gasped Sylvia, thinking he had taken leave of his senses, arid not. knowing whether'to laugh or be frightened at his darkly furious face. "Where!" he said, hoarsely. "To the devil! Good-bye. For God's sake, save |her, if you can," and wringing',Sylvia's
hand : he dashed down the stairs. Sylvia stood staring after him for a moment, then she went into the room and found .Audrey lying upon the conch' with her face buried in the cushion. "Oh, what has happened!" she exclaimed. "What have.you said or done to him? I never saw him like that before !" "Fve only bro —bro—ken his heart," I wailed Audrey. "Only!' said Sylvia. "How have you done that?" "Oh, can't you guess? It was for mc that—that Lord Lorrimore has been wandering all over the earth." "I thought it was for a man called Neville Lynne," said Sylvia, without any intention of being witty. She was a little confused and bewildered. "So it was," said Audrey; "but it was I who sent him." "Oh!" exclaimed Sylvia, flushing, as she recalled all the hard things she had said of the unknown lady whom lirra Lorrimore loved, little thinking that she was Audrey. ~ "Oh, dear, then it was you? I—l'm sorry I said what I did the other day, Audrey." "You need not be: I deserved it all, and more," said Audrey, with a sob. 'It was cruel and heartless', but I did it ill in a moment, almost without meaning ' it, and before I could stop him or take it back he had gone. Men are so—quick and—and sudden, especially this one." "Yes," said Sylvia, in a low voice; "and it is well for us women sometimes that hey are." And she thought of the way 1 n which Lord Lorrimore had saved her,' ,rom Lavarisk. "But why are you so un-j lappy, dear? Is,it because he has noil t'ound Neville Lynne?" 1 Audrey shook her head without raising ■t from the cushion. ? "No, it is not that. I don't care whaib has become of him now—-I don't mean chat " j "I think I know what you mean. But still I don't see why you should cry. Lord Lorrimore has come back " 1 Audrey raised her head with a kind if despair. "It would have" been better if he had never come back," she said; "I—l am engaged to Sir Jordan Lynne " i Sylvia started. J "Oh, poor Lord Lorrimore!" she murmured, the tears gathering in her cyefc. "Lynne? Is he " " , "Neville's half brother," said Audrey. "How strange! But. Audrey, dear," and she bent over hor, and smoothed bcr hair, "you must not be so wretched. You can't help loving one man instead of the other. It is not your fault " Audrey shuddered at the word "love.'' "Yes, it is," she said. "It is ail my fault. I have been eru&l .and heartless, as j you said, and now I.am punished." The servant came in to announce that the brougham was at. the'door: "I must go, dear," said Sylvia. "You won't come, will you?" "Yes, Twill," replied Audrey, drying her eyes. "I can cry at the back of the box just as well as anywhere else. Don't speak to. mc as we go. Oh, 1 wonder if there was ever anyone so wretched aB I am to-night." "Yes, 1 think so," said' Sylvia, inaudibiy, as she thought of the moment when, she saw Jack fall,, and that other, when they brought her his coat and told her that he was dead. ' , As they drove on in silence she remembered the passionate words Lord Lorri more bad spoken as he rushed away just now.. He had asked her to' "save" Audrey if she could: but what was she to save her fran; ? Surely not from Sir Jordan j Lynne, whom Audrey must be going to' -marry, of her own free will and choice? A vague uneasiness fell upon her mind, 'and r she would' hive liked, to question Audrey, but she could not bring herself to inflict additional pain on the unhappy girl. .-.'.-' (To be Continued Daily.)
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Auckland Star, Volume XXXV, Issue 251, 20 October 1904, Page 6
Word Count
2,831Her Ransom Auckland Star, Volume XXXV, Issue 251, 20 October 1904, Page 6
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