COMPLETE TALES

Auckland Star, Volume XXXVIII, Issue 196, 17 August 1907, Page 13

COMPLETE TALES

By Baroness Orczy.

6 R3. ill'

-BfSP® LORD EGLINTON'S WAGER.

suit, and found himself face to face with [ the Due de Neuilly, Marianne's brother, i and the guardian of her person and of her innocence. There was a moment of deathlike stillness in the room. The Viseomte had not replied to the Englishman's final challenge, and Lord Eglinton himself, dazed by this sudden tragic turn ot events, felt his proud temper, his boastful arrogance, slipping away from him like a noisome mantle of evil. His sangfroid had never forsaken him, even when he had proposed the insolent wager over a woman's honour, but now he saw his own conduct in all its cowardice, and in his turn would have given half his fortune to undo the past halfhour of his life. The Due de Neuilly had stepped forward and lightly thrown his glove in the Englishman's face. A deadly insult, and one that could only be wiped out by the blood freely shed in a woman's cause. There were but four men present in the room at the time; the two antagonists, facing one another, then the Viseomte d'Ethain and the Marquis deMirepoLs, passive spectators of the coming inevitable tragedy. The card-room where this brief drama was taking place was some little distance from the ball-room beyond, whence the sound of gay dance music came as a faint and tender echo. "Then draw, milor," said the Due de Neuilly, with equal calm; "for as the cowardly words left your lips I swore to God that you should not leave this room alive." "As you please!" "Marquis, I pray you guard the doors," continued the Due, quietly; "tKe quarrel is between myself and milor Eglinton alone. Gentlemen, I trust to your honour that my sister's name will not be mentioned in connection with this affair." "We swear it, of course," said fhe Marquis and Viseomte jointly. "We'll call it a quarrel over a game of cards, M. le Due." added Lord Eglinton. "I swear to you that I already regret my presumptuous folly, and am prepared to pay for it at the risk of my life." There were a few preliminary details to go through ere these two high-born gentlemen prepared to cut one another's tkroat. But the Marquis de Mirepoix was -well versed in all matters pertaining to the etiquette of affairs of honour. He also saw to the door, that no one should come to disturb the combatants; he, himself, acted as second to the Due de Neuilly. whilst the Viseomte d'Ethain performed the same friendly office towards Lord Eglinton. It is from the Viscomte himself that we have the particulars- of this extraordinary and momentous duel. Both gentlemen were noted swordsmen, both in the prime of life, active and determined. On the whole, perhaps, at first sight, the advantage lay with the Englishman. He was as calm and impassive as if he were practising with the foils in a salle d'armes, rather than measuring swords with a man who had sworn before God that he should not leave the room alive. The Due de Neuilly was too well-bred, too proud, to show the deadly hatred which he felt for the man who—he considered —had dared to insult Marianne. That a storm of passion was raging beneath his outward calm was, however, clear to both the spectators, for from the first the Due's sword-play was somewhat wild. He attacked the Englishman with vigour, nay the Viscomte asserts — with passionate fury, whilst Lord Eglinton at first confined himself to a defen-

■ 2vD the miniature? j ; 1 Ah, yes; it is Lord Eglinton, , yl you know, that same handsome, j / V merry, dashing, young Lord Eg- ! L linton who won all hearts at the s cJnri of Louis XV.. and created for him- j> «Jf a reputation for valour and—shall | ( ,f^j. ? _for impudence unequalled by c aBT of his contemporaries. < How well the artist has caught the ex- j . wesson of those laughing blue eyes, and of the proud, disdainful line around the positive Bps- ' }fo -wonder the young Englishman was Mpiilar at the Court of Versailles. He \ £as rich, too, and a magnificent swords- ' B an, and what was best of all—an aramt admirer of the frailer sex. It -was tbe age of frailty, too; virtue was not a la mode at that brilliant Court, and \ many a pair of ruby lips smiled at the gallant young Englishman, and tender jLgg we pt when he frowned. ' So wonder that he held smiles and fears lightly, nay, even in gentle, plea(sant contempt. The gardens of Versailles were full to overflowing with lovely, luscious fruit, and he had but to stretch forth one of his slender, aristocratic hands, and lo! the ripening peach and full-blown apple fell readily within his grasp. Not all, though. TheTe was Marianne. de "Neuilly. Prond, exquisite, fastidious Marianne! 6carce out of her teens, wet with all tre jeune noblesse of France at her feet. They knelt, and she passed disdainfully by, holding up her dainty white skirts away from contamination with this disBolnte Court She was under the guardianship of her Irother, the Due de Neuilly, himself as proud a3 Lncif er. • And he had plenty to be prond of, too. His ancient lineage, his position at Court, his influence and political attainments; and, above all, the beauty and lirfcue of his sister and ward. Marianne. Marianne was tall and divinely fair, and prouder even than her brother, M. h Due de Neuilly. Everyone at Versailles knew that, and si this Court where freedom of language was only equalled by freedom of acfion, a; barrier of respect and instinctive homage had been erected around the personality of Marianne de Neuilly. - The young Earl of Eglinton should have known it, too. Nay! FII not excuse him! but remember, he had been very much spoilt, and rot one pair of beautiful eyes had ever .frowned when Lord Eglinton had chosen to smile. But that night he felt piqued. He had danced the minuet with her, aid whispered soft nothings in her ears, which she had received with such dis2ainful aloofness that an unaccountable sense seized him. as of a conqueror Uffled by a weaker fqg. -jThen his friends arid hers, hega.it to raifrTiim: it had been very amusing to 'watch the irresistible young buck beingeo persistently snubbed, where he most desired to conquer. "Ma foi, milor Eglinton," said the young Marqnis de Mirepoix, "yon will find our French beauties more "faroucne than your English ones, eh?" "And 'tis many a time you will prick yoar fingers, as you aim at gathering the roses of France!" added the Viscount d"Ethain, with an affected smirk. . "By this you mean, M. le Viseomte? : ->~ —" queried the Englishman, haughtily. "That the fleur de Iys is not destined :lo adorn the Eglinton coat of arms, Bflor," responded the Viseomte. lightly. *% offence, I assure. Will you honour tie at a game of hazard ?" The young lord bit his lip. His tern was rising. Accustomed to succeed Md to rule, he was not ready to take uflure philosophically. 'And Marianne was very beautifulf Her very pride had captivated his fancy! He would have given much to farce her to stoop. "A game of hazard, mflor?" repeated tte young Viseomte, with a slightly ironical smile. v. "As you please," retorted Lord Eglinpon. 'The Viseompte shuffled the cards, anil the talk drifted into other channels, but lord Eglinton remained moody and silent, despite the fact that, as the praung -wore on. a pile of gold seemed lo grow in amazing profusion close beade him, whilst the young Viseomte's jale diminished with equally astonishing rapidity. ."Ah, milor!" said the Viseomte at Jttt, as he threw a further handful of lonis on the table, "I find myself wishing Mat your suit had prospered to-night." "My suit?" queried Lord Eglinton, haughtily. '""Aye, indeed! for does not the proverb say: TJnlucky in love, lucky at •aids?'" /"And you consider, monsieur, that being lucky at cards to-night, I must of necessity have been unlucky in love?" added the Englishman, with that icy calm which always portends a coming Storm. -■"Obviously, milor," retorted the other ogfctly, "had Mile, de Neuilly not gowned on you, I might still be richer *y the several hundred . louis which nave passed from mv pocket into fours." ■ "Then have no fear, Viseomte, my lick at cards is always of short duration."

;«Oho?" "As is my ill-luck in love." : is that a hoast. milor?" ■ "It is more, Viscompte, it is a chal knee." "How so?"

sive line of action. The Due aeemed with the very point of his blade to challenge his antagonist to a more determined attack, once or twice he so uncovered himself that it was a, marvel that the Englishman's sword did not fierce his breast. The Viscomte, in his account of the duel, makes a great point of this fact, and he is right there, as it certainly makes what subsequently followed all the more unexplainable. Both the spectators were lost in admiration of Lord Eglmton's brilliant parries, and of his admirable sangfroid. But these very qualities seemed every moment to enrage the Due de Neuilly more and more, and his last attack was dealt with such indiscreet fury that literally the Englishman held his French antagonist's life absolutely at his mercy. And yet, at the very moment of such an easy and assured victory, something happened. . • . What was it? Neither the Viscomte nor the Marquis -were ever able to say; all they knew was that Lord EglintoH suddenly appeared to swerve, the Due de Neuilly uttered a short cry of triumph, then one of horror as the young Englishman seemed literally to throw himself upon his antagonist's sword, and then, without a groan, fell backwards to the floor, whilst a deep crimson stain rapidly spread itself over his elegant satin waist-coat. "My God! have I killed him?" murmured the Due, throwing aside hig weapon, and stepping forward quickly in order to receive the swooning figure of his gallant young antagonist in his arms. All his fury and unreasoning temper had vanished before the awesome majesty of the grey shadow which gradually spread over the Englishan's face. "A leech! quick!" he hegged hastily

and Mirepoix hurried out of the room, ready to obey his friend's behest. The other two -with clumsy, yet loving hands were doing their best to staunch the blood which was flowing freely from the youne man's wound. The Due, there is no doubt, was positively heartbroken, for the wound looked

-2T lU J" ou take mv wager? Certainly."

_po_ble or quits," continued Lord Egtoton, carelessly passing his hand over *** pile of gold beside him and scatter™f.^- 0 ""er the table, so that the louis roved hither and thither, some of them »nto .the floor. L-Jf^ 111 *" 6 or _uits b y aU mea n_/' recited the Viscomte. What is your "^ger.nulor?" my suit prospers to-night." -vyith Mademoiselle de Neuilly?" 1111 v "scomte, ironically. 'Wav! w "*., yon half m . v fortune that she'll BBSS ° n yoU t --nig"." or quits," said the Englishman, coldly, "that I win a kiss from Manama de Neuilly to-night." /vLi_r aa Q impufle-j. cowar d » „„,; ««f«<>nan accents from the further end X the room. turned suddenly to face -_nng ntterer of this mortstroas in--

deep and deadly, and it is a terrible thing to have the life of a fellow being— a young man, a friends-upon one's conscience. Moreover, the Due was of the old school of French gentlemen, very devout and pious. "Will God ever forgive mc this great sin?" he murmured, trying with anxious, burning eyes to read that same pardon in Eglinton's filmy eyes. "Will you forgive mc?" he added, under his breath, scarcely daring to hope, knowing full well that a man who is dying is none too ready to forgive his murderer. But ever since the young man had recovered from bis original swoon, he had obviously been making vigorous efforts to pull himself together. He had obviously something very important to say. At the Due's last -words he seemed tofinally conquer his weakness, and said rruietlyi _

"Nay! M. le Due, how can I have anything "to forgive? 'Tis I should seek pardon." 'Tardon? From whom?" asked the Due, kindly. "From her whom in my folly I dared to insult."

"Don't speak of that now, friend. Tis forgotten, I assure you." "Nay, I cannot forget my presumption," said Eglinton with energy. "I think ... I think I should die happier if ... if she knew . . . and would forgive. ..." "You would not refuse a dying man s request?" he added, with infinite pathos, seeing that the Due appeared to hesitate. It was impossible to withstand this appeal. The Due felt it; he gave a scarce perceptible sign to the Vicompte, who left the room. The wounded man repeated anxiously: "You will tell her?" '•Yes !" whispered the Due reassuringly; "d'Ethain has gone to fetch her." "Will she refuse to come?" "She is here to answer that question herself," said the Due. as the door was pushed open and Marianne—exquisite, proud, beautiful Marianne—stepped into the room. More lovely than ever, for her luminous eyes were rendered doubly brilliant by tears of sorrow and pity. D'Ethain bad briefly told her that a man who was grievously wounded wished to see her before he died. And Marianne was a true woman, pitiful and strong, and she came to soothe the last moments of the man who had asked for her.

For a few brief moments Eglinton feasted his soul on the exquisite vision before him, whilst Marianne stood with

tear-dimmed eyes looking down at the prostrate figure of the gallant young Englishman, who but a while ago had been so full of gaiety, of daring, and of the joy of living. "Will you tell her all, M. le Due?" murmered Lord Eglinton at last. The Due deNeuilly tried to protest, but it seemed si dying man's wish, and reluctantly he complied. Briefly he told his sister of the Englishman's boast, the wager, the challenge, and finally the combat.

She had frowned when she beard the beginning of the story, and at one moment it seemed as if even now she would turn away from him in proud contempt, but he looked so helpless and broken,

lying there pale and silent, with dimmed eves turned in rapt adoration towards her, that a great and overwhelming pity filled her heart and she stayed. The leech in the meanwhile had entered. He examined and dressed the wound, but he shook his wise old head sadly and ominously. The young man, in spite of his pluck and endurance, had half swooned away under the leech's treatment.

"Will he die?" whispered Marianne in a voice half-choked with sobs, as. instinctively and still overwhelmed by that great and wonderful pity she dropped on her knees beside the wounded man, and with tender, soothing fingers gently stroked his pallid brow. "I'll die in peace, if you will forgive mc, Marianne!" murmured Eglinton feebly. "Yes! yes! I'll forgive you!" she replied through her tears. "Oh! leech!" she added with heartbroken accents, "must he die?" But before the leech could answer, the wounded man had turned an appealing look to her.

"If you have forgiven mc, Marianne—" he whispered, "will you—will you kiss mc?"

His dying request! How could she refuse? She bent her head and kissed him. There was dead silence in the room, whilst an angel fluttered across it; in the far distance could still be faintly heard the lively tune of the minuet.

"D'Ethain, I have won my wager," said Lord Eglinton, with proud triumph. "Now leech!" he added quietly, "I am ready to hear whether I am to dte."

Marianne would have risen, indignant, to her feet, but he held her fast, with that feeble, yet irresistible grasp of one sick unto death. "Monsieur " she began. '•'Nay!" he murmured, "have I sinned so very deeply then? I could not win a kiss from your proud lips save—save by paying—with my life for it. The Due will tell you—l had him at my sword's point—but I knew that you were as good as you were beautiful—you would not refuse —a dying man's request—a man who was dying to "win a kiss from you. So I won my wager the only way I could—with my life." She could not speak now, for her tears were choking- her, but she turned with a desperate appeal to the leech. "Nay, mademoiselle," said that worthy man, "all lives are in God's keeping. I was about to say just now that the English milor is young —and robust— and given an incentive for recovery, I'll guarantee that Nature ■will pull him through." '"He'll recover, you think?" The cry came from the heart, gladly, joyously, with all the pride gone out of her sweet face, and only the love-light in her eyes. "I'll recover," said the wounded man with quaint determination, "if you will nurse mc back to life." "But you might have died," she said piteously, "and for a kiss." "Aye. for a kiss from you, sweetheart —and would deem my life but poor repayment for the rapture of that kiss." She folded him in her protecting arms, and nature, too, kindly wonud her gentie mantle round him, wrapping him at last in sweet, restoring unconsciousness. He had at last an incentive for recovery. Marianne nursed him back to health and life.

And that is how it is the Eglinton'a have a FTeneh ancestress, Marianne de Neuilly, who was Countess of Eglinton when George 111. was King of England.