IN CUPID'S CHAINS.

Auckland Star, Volume XXXIX, Issue 130, 1 June 1908, Page 8

IN CUPID'S CHAINS.

1 CHAPTER XLI. Thane leaned against a tree, his face ' pale and haggard, his hand thrust into his waistcoat and pressed against his heart. It beat slowly and sluggishly, with every now and then a, feverish throb, as some word or look of Lady Sybil's scornful rennnciation of him flashed through his mind. God! how he loved her —how he loved her still! And he had thought that she ' loved him as he had loved her. What a fool he had been to be so deceived! It was the heir to the Chesnoy earldom and lands she loved. Well, he must keep ' the place he had usurped; he must still hold all he bad stolen; hold it in spite of all —in spite of the real Lord Norman —in spite of —yes, Mary Marshall! As he thought of her, as he listened to her approaching footsteps, his face grew dark and malignant, and an evil light crept into his eyes. All else he might fight and overcome, hut what was he to do with her? Half mechanically his hand went to the revolver in his pocket, and he was still fingering it when she came up beside him. "Harry—it is you?" she said in a low, tremulous voice. "Yes, it's I, of ' course," he said. "You've come at last. You're lat?, aren't you?" he added; but ouite at random, for he had no idea of the time. "No," she said; "it is before the time. But I thought I would come and wait if you were not here. Oh, Harry, I wish you were as glad to see mc as I am to see you!" and she clasped her hands on his arm and looked up into his face with the look a woman's face wears when she is hungering for the kiss of the man she loves. "I'm glad to see you, of course," he iaid, touching her forehead with his lips. "Hay you settled everything? la everything arranged?" "Yes," she said, with a sigh. "It has been a hard struggle, a terrible business; but it is done. Harry, you are safe. At least, you will be if you leave England at onee —and you will, wont you? We will go to—to " She put her hand to her head. "There is some place where they can't—can't arrest you, isn't there? Some place in Mexico where we could live buried from world? Oh, Harry! if you will only trust yourself to mc, all will be well, even now, and. we shall be happy." "That's all right," he said, with a short, forced laugh. "Of course I'll trust mysell to you. Why, dash it! 1 can't do anything else, can I ? But how did you manage it? Whom did you see?" "I saw Miss Gordon. Ah, Harry, how cruelly you—we —have wronged her, as well as Lord Norman. My heart has ached for her ever sinco 1 knew what 1 know. But all her troubles are over now. She will be married to him, and be as happy as she deserves." Her eyes filled with t?ars. "She was very good and gentie and kind to mc, Harold. She treated mc like a sister, kissed mc " Her voice broke, choked by her emotion. He nodded. While he was listening to her he could hear Lady Sibyl's voice. "You beast! you thief L" rang in his care. "Never mind them," he said. "We have quite enough to do to think of ourselves, come further into the wood;, some one might see us." He led the way to the spot where the trees grew Yhicker. A half-stagnant pond lay shimmering in the cloudy moonlight. Mary looked around and shuddered, and put her hand timidly on his arm. "This is my plan, Harry," she said. "You must start to-night." "To-night?" he said in a dull, vacant way. his eyes fixed on the ground. "Yes; there is no time to lose. I —l have brought some money; I thought that perhaps you might not have enough. It is not much, but it is all I could save, and it will pay our passage across. He nodd?d as she pressed a shabby purse into his hand. "You seem to have thought of every"thing, old girl," he said, with a ghastly smile. She smiled with dog-like affection up into his face. "It is not hard for mc to think, when the thinking is for you, Harry, dear," slie said. "But j t ou will go, will you not, and at once? 1 think it will be better for you to start alone. I can join you at Liverpool to-morrow night. We will take the first vessel that starts. You need not fear pursuit, for I have their promis?." He started slightly. His brain was confused. How was it possible for him to be calm and self-possessed with Sybil's voice drumming through his brain? "Their promise?" he said. "Ah, yee! that confession —what do you cali it?— just let mi 3 look at it and see what you've said." She looked at him timidly, deprecating"The confession?" she faltered. Surely he understood that she had parted with it. She looked at his face and dared not tell him the truth, alas! "Presently, Harry," she said. "Let us talk of your flight. You must go now; wo might be seen. Besides, I shall not be able to breather freely until you have really started. You have the money. Say good-bye now and make your way to Liverpool. I will join you there. And— and—oh, Harry, let us pray to God that we may begin a better and happier life!" She laid her weary head on his breast and clung to him, the tears running down her face. He put his arm round her, but still kept his eyes fixed on the pond. Sybil's voice was still ringing in his ears. Lose heri No; not if he had to wade through blood! "All right," he said in a strange, vacant voice. "Better go now. I'll meet you at Liverpool. Oh, yes; we shall be happy enough. You're not a bad sort, and I think you really do care for mc." A smile beautified her wan face as she lifted it "to him, and she kissed him on the lips twice, then withdrew herself from his arms—which did not detain her, but released her readily enough—and went quickly from his side down the narrow patli through the withered bracken. He looked after her dully, vacantly for an instant; then as if he suddenly realized that she was ■ escaping him, he pulled out the revolver, aimed it, and fired. She stopped, threw up her arms, and with a faint scream fell on her face. He stood for a moment looking from the smoking revolver to the prone figure, in a dazed fashion; then he sprang forward, and. kneeling by her side, raised her head, shuddering as he touched her. It was not the first time he had looked 1 on death, and death inflicted by his own hand, and he caw a glance that the wound was a fatal one. She opened her eyes after a moment or two had passed, and fixed them on him with a mute agony of reproach.

BY CHARLES GARVICE. (Author of "The Marquis," "Lorrie, or Hollow Gold."i

The confession—where is it?" he de- , manded,. hoarsely. "Give it to mc." ■She shook her head feebly. He set his i teeth and' hissed through them. "I want if "I will have it! Where is it?" As he spoke he searched her pocket. ! There was no paper there, and his eyes fastened on the bosom of her dress. She. shook her head again, and painfully opened her lips. "It- : —it has gone!" she faltered, her voice .thick under the pressure of Death's fingers. "I —gave it to—to them today!" "'Curse you!" he hissed, starting back, and staring from right to left, as if he already heard the voices and footsteps of his pursuers. "Curse you for a fool! You gave it to them?" '•Yes!" she panted. "Oh, Harry! It was 'all false, then? You—you did not love mc?" "Love you?" he laughed hoarsely— love you! I hated you—hated you! It was for love of another woman—" "God forgive you, Harry!" she moaned. "God forgive you, as I forgive you— and save you! lou have killed mc too late,.Harry—too late!" Hβ started to his feet, and stood staring down at her. Her eyes closed, and a faint shudder convulsed her, but, as if with a final effort, she looked up at him again, and pointed to her bosom. "There is—is something here, Harry. Take—take it and fly! Quick —quick!" Her voice rose to a wail at the word but died away at its repetition. He unfastened her dress and took out the paper Madge and Mr. Levi had signed. "It—it may save you yet!" she panted. "Take it, and —and go! Good-bye, Harry. Remember, I —l forgive you!" Clutching the paper, he knelt beside her, his face ashen white, his eyes almost starting from his head. With a hand that shook like the windswayed boughs of the leafless trees above him, he felt her heart. It had ceased to beat! She was dead, at rest, ana God grant, happy at last! "I—l must hide it!" he muttered, tnieldy, as if he were speaking to someone else, to the Spirit of Murder hovering near, perhaps—"l must hide it!" Hi's eyes, as he stared thi9 way and that," fell on the pool, and, with a shudder that convulsed his shaking frame, he raised the body in his arras, and carrying it to the brink, pushed and slid it amid the reeds and lilies in the stagnant water. Then he knelt and bathed his face and hands, and with averted eyes, went quickly, but shrinkingly, through the wood. Out in the open, beneath the hurrying clouds and in the free air, he paused a moment to think. AH was over. He had lost, by his cruel nad treacherous deed, even the chance of safety she had bought for him. He must,- after all, relinquish Sybil, to gain whom he had committed murder. He must fly, and at once. He tore open the shabby purse and poured the contents into his shaking hand. There was more than enough, he judged, to pay his outward passage to America. He dropped it into his pocket with an oath. Up at the Chase—the great house where he had reigned as lord and master, but which he had now lost forever—there were money and jewels. Would there be time to get them ? He pondered, his head clasped in his hands. Yes, he would chance it. He walked rapidly, like a man in a dream, to the Chase, and unlocking the door from the garden, entered his den It was dark, and he lighted a match and a candle and looked round. The sight of the safe reminded him of the lock of hair, the Handkerchief, the diary. It would be well to destroy them. But, with the key in his hand, he paused. There was no time for anything but the securing of the money and what jewels he could find. Listening for a moment or two at the outer door of the room, and hearing all quiet, he went through the hall and upstairs. Only a few days ago he had drawn several hundreds from the bank, and the notes were in his bureau. He got them and thrust them in his pocket-book, then looked out his diamond studs and pins—he had been lavish in the matter of his own ornaments—and put them with the notes. Then he remembered that in the leather-covered safe in the earl's room reposed some of the family jewels—enough of them to represent several thousand pounds. The carl still kept the key of the casket, though he had surrendered all else to the supposed Lord Norman. It would not be difficult to get it from him. It must be got, anyway; by force if necessary. • With noiseless, stealthy step he left the room, and, treading on tiptoe along the corridor, entered the earl's apartment. The old man was seated in a huge chair ■beside the fire, sitting bolt upright, though his eyes were closed. Thane glanced at him, and seeing that he was asleep, went straight for the cabinet which stood in a corner of the room. The safe was locked, and though he had expected it, he shook the handle impatiently. As he did so, he heard the weird, guttuTal sound which had taken the place of speech with the old stricken man, and he turned with a start to find the earl's dark, peircing eyes fixed on him. He went up to him, and laying his hand roughly on his shoulder, pointed to the casket. "The key!" he said abruptly, fiercely. The earl, with his eyes still fixed on him, shook his head. "Don't you understand, you old fool?" cried Thane, huskily. "I want the key. You've got it, I know. Out with it, and sharp! I've got no time to lose." The earl raised his trembling hand as if to push him off, but Thane struck it aside, and, forcing him back into the chair, searched the pockets of his dress-ing-gown. He found the key almost immediately, and held it up with a harsh laugh. "You old fool! It's well for you I've got it without further trouble, or " Murder gleamed in his eyes as he sprung to the casket and unlocked it. The jewels were, some of them, in- , closed in velvet eases; others were lying loose, and there was a bag containing, no doubt, the loose money the earl possessed at the time of his seizure. Thane emptied the cases into his pocket, and added the money to that which ho had got from poor Mary Marshall. Then, with wanton malice, he raised his hand to fling the empty bag at the earl's face. As he did so he heard voices on the stairs. His heart leaped—that awful leap of the heart which the blood-stained criminal alone knows—-and he shrunk back ] ' until he was leaning against the safe. The i | earl also heard the sound, for he turne;! his head toward the door, though Jiis ( eyes still rested fiercely on Thane's white, | haggard face.

Thane, listening intently, glanced toward the window—it was forty feet from the ground—then despairingly gazed round the room. The voices, the confused noise of many feet, drew nearer. Suddenly, the earl raised his ihand and pointed to a large wardrobe. Thane stared at him in amazement for a moment—could it be possible that the old man was desirous of helping him to escape? —then he darted across the room and slipped into the wardrobe. He had scarcely concealed himself before the door of the room opened and a number of persons entered. (To be continued daily.)