RUTH ENGLAND

Auckland Star, Volume XL, Issue 271, 13 November 1909, Page 19

RUTH ENGLAND

BY J. B. HARRIS-BURLAND-

Author of Dacobra," "The Black Motor-car," "Dr. Silex," "The Gold Worshippers," &c.

CHAPTER XV. «\f- dear young lady," said Mr. Beajie, stroking his silky yellow beard. and" sizing thoughtfully at his highlyra niUhed boots, "when you say that yon simply cannot stand the strain, you are, of cour-e. speaking tnetaphorieally. All this"" —and with one swift movement of his hand he included house, garden, park, and the surrounding country —•'all this is a reward for any-tii-i2 —anything." "I .f'j' you I can't stand it much longer." she said in a low voice. "I have been hero a month, and there have been three attempts to steal the box. There was one thi* morning—just before daylight. The thieves have torn the ■R-lioie room to pieces in their efforts to crack the safe. I suppose one of these days 1 shall be murdered. Do you Trish mc to wait here till that happens?" tUy dejT ■Miss England. , ' he said slowly, "you have dozens of servants, and can have an army of defenders if you like ro pay for them. You can be piarded like a queen by detectives. But please don't tujk of giving up thirty thousand pounds a year." She leant forward, with her chin resting on her hand*, and gazed across the lawn, which shelved, terrace after terrace, to a lake fringed with trees. They wfre sitting on ~. garden seat within fifty yards of the house, and the sun was low in the heavens. Beyond lawn and park and meadow lav the marshland, stretching to the distant sea. "You've got to stick to it, my dear young lady," Mr. Beadle continued. "l:~ on!v fop a year. You must look HT M, a it as a practical joke. You can Li ye friends here all day from noon tn midnight. You oan give garden parties You cm try and enjoy " "Thank you," she interrupted: "if to;] j ever spent a night in the house you'd know how enjoyable life is at LypLltt. There is some dark, terrible mystery about the place. There are noises in the corridors, strange voices in empty rooms, strange shapes moving in the shadows. There is nothing so tangible as a burglar or an I often wonder how Mr. C.irJew got his wealth, and whether some tPirible curse is attached to it." '"Oh. mv dear young lady!" Mr. Beagle eaid. raising his hands in pious horror. ""Mr. Cardew amassed his wealth in the East —in a most respectable fashion— by trading." •"Selling looking-glasses and beads foT gold and ivory?" she queried, with a smile. ""Not exactly, but—ex—somewhat on thosp lines." ""Then there is no blood on his money?" "Klood?"' ejaculated the lawyer. "01 course not. What has been putting ti.:- rubbish into your head?" "I heard a voice last night in my bfdroorn. and it said, 'The gold is red with blood.' It kept on saying it—for half ?.n hour." And as she spoke she held out heT white hands and looked at them with horror. She had passed many sleepless Tiisirts, and her nerves were strung to the breaking: point. In her imagination ehp saw a spot of blood on her fourth Snipr. close to the small silver ring which Ruth England had always worn. ""Oh. this is very foolish of you." cried Mr. Beagle, who was visibly distressed. **My dear Miss England, you not give -way like this." ■"Then there is .Tohan," she exclaimed. "It is inhuman, monstrous, to have to eat. with that creature sitting at the taMe. iShe has hpeome a perfect rri:rht.dipt? to mc. I go >he seems to follow. I believe she will kill mc of these days." "'She is quite harmless," said Mr. Beagle quickly, "and her keepers are always at hand to look after her" "The wretched animal seems to resent it a= a slur on her character. She etru' -, -; at one of the men the other day." ■" lif's probably been teasing her. " j shoTiM dismiss him at once.' , "" I've had them armed, too." Mrs. D"v lin continued. " Every man has a loaded revolver. I believe the brute is dangerous. The:e she is; they're bound to let her go where she iike=, and she's always following aie." Mr. turned his head, and saw the huge animal moving siowly along the grass ciostf to the house. Her crimson robe flamed in the sunlight, and her black iairy limbs looked like the hideous pictures of the devil drawn by some mediaeval arti>t. Her small eyes were fixed On Mrs. Devlin. Mr. Beagle rose to Ms feet. " Let us take a walk by the lake," he Kid, with exaggera ted courtesy; "it is beautiful there when the =un is setting, snd the trees throw long shadows on the water.' , Mrs. Dev-'in looked ax him in surprise. He was not wont to talk in tliis flowery language. Ther she laug-hod. She retnembered that he was an elderly gallant, aad that it was well to flatter" him. "Certainly, my (fear Mr. Beagle," she eaid, rising from the seat. "As yoti say. it is glorious by the lake, and besides " — 62e lowered her voic-e to a whisper— we shall g-pt away from that hideous brute over there." They descended the long tiers of stone E '-ps which led from terrace to terrace, HI they reached the lake. Johan followed them part of the way, and then turned back. - I«s, it i≤ very beautiful," said Mrs. Deviin. archly, as sue seated herself on lie twisted Trunk of a bei-eh-troe which tried to grow horizontally across the Water of the lake. Mr. Beagle was silent. Then he cleared his throat. "My dear Miss Engknd," he said, in a low voice—" my dear Euth, ii I may call you so " And he stretched out his slender, shapely hand towards her. _ She eou!d hardly refrain from lfuighIμ looked so like a stage lover. She Wondered if he would fall on one knee. iEa get his immaculate trousers stained *ith mud. . "My dear Mr. Beagle," she said, edgjEg away from him. " I'm afraid I kt you call mc Ruth." I love you," he blurted out desperEts -y- " 2ver since I first met you in ffi ~ office—unworthy setting for the of a "romance—my whole has—has throbbed, has pulsed for you—and you a'oiie. lam no longer in ■«• first bloom of youth, but I am solid, steadfast, res pec table, a man to be rejrV" , - If I were by your side I would ™*n all the terrors from Lypiatt. 1 Z ~ '."? that no oae banned you; I °w4 shield you from danger, lieht for y°a- '!> for you, if need be I—" •'■ as n]uc |i from mint of +j "*'"'..l* ' nr a lack of poetic imagina ~ :l :ell his hand closed on hers, and we l did not try to wrench her fingers «°a tis dry dasp.

"I'm afraid," she faltered. "Oh, Mr. Beagle, this is -cruel of you. Let go my hand at once!" !>he sprang to her feet, with hot cheeks and flashing eyes, the incarnation of maidenly indignation. " I humbly apologise," he said in a hard, practical voice, and she trembled. had no need now to simulate fear. She looked into his cold, grey eyes, and read her fate. " Let us talk sense," he continued. " I felt like talking nonsense just then. The tun streaming through the trees, the silent water, and your lovely face—a spell was cast over mc. I inada a fool of myself. lam not a young idiot, but a hard man of business. I am here to drive a hard bargain." " What do you mean?" she cried. "Why do you talk to mc like this?" " I mean that I know the truth," he answered, "and that you are in my hands." Her face hardened to a mask of stone. Now that he had shown his hand she no longer feared him. If it were to be war between them, she could iight as well as any dandy of a lawyer. She had fine weapons in her armoury—youth, beauty, great riches, and an entire absence of scruple. No woman can ask for more than this in her contest with one of the opposite sex. "I'm afraid 1 don't understand you, Mr. Beagle," she replied, with a smile. '"By-the-bye, what is your Christian name?" "Thomas," he answered, curtly. "Do they call you Tom or Tommy?" she queried, with a laugh. He frowned. "You think you are making a fool of mc," he said, sternly. "'Oh, no,"' she replied. "You called mc Ruth just now. I only want to know if I ajn to call you Tom or Tommy." "Then you mean " he cried, ly"Nothing," she said, with a tantalising smile, "'except that we must know each other's Christian names. Now let us sit down on the log swid talk sensibly, and shut our eyes to the sunset and all the glorious romance of life. Am I to understand that you have offered to make mc Mrs. Thomas Beagle?"' "Yes," he answered, in a sullen voice. "And that you think I am bound to accept this splendid offer because you, to use your own words, "know all'!" "You're right." "What do you know?" she queried, lightly. "And, above all, what do you mean ?" "You are not Ruth England," he said, in a low voice. "Really. I thought you had proved that I was." "Yes, you are quite secure in your inheritance, but you owe your security to mc. You must not forget that." "You worked veTy hard," she murmured. "I certainly owe you a debt of gratitude." "You owe mc more than that. And you sha.ll pay mc. You .are not Ruth England." "Indeed?" she queried. "And who am I? I look to. you for instructions. You must remember that I lost my memory. It you told mc that I was the Queen of England I should not he able to contradict you." "You never lost your memory," he said, quietly. "You are an impo*toT—a beautiful, splendid impostor. 1 love you for it." "I think it is getting rather chilly," she interrupted, turning to leave him. But he caught her by the arm. "We may as well understand ea<ch other," he said, quietly. "If you will marry mc I will be your friend and protector. If you refuse to marry mc, I shall feel it it my duty to make my suspicions public property." '"Suspicions!" she sneered. "Why, you old fool. I placed myself in your hands. If there has been any fraud, it is you who are responsible. My past, my whole life before the accident, is a blank. I merely came to you with some papers, and you established my identity. Now you confess that you have committed a gigantic fraud. Let go of my arm at once." "We must work together," he muttered. "I am the innocent victim of a fraud. You have not lost your memory; I know that much, at any rate. Once or you have given yourself away. When you came to mc I thought you were Ruth England. Now I know that you are not" "I placed myself in your hands," she said, with a sneer. "Please tell mc who I am, if I am not Ruth England." "I don't know vho you are, but I am certain you are noi. Ruth England. I have no doubt that if I make careful inquiries I shall discover your identity. Do you wish mc to place the matter in the hands of a detective?" She smiled sweetly. Phe had regained her self-c-ontrol. "Nc. Mr. Beagle—not yet. I will think over your offer, and let. you know in tiro months from today." Will that suit you?" "Yes. I will wait —for two months." They walked slowly up the terraces, and as they neared the house a footman came to meet them with a buff-coloured envelope on a salver. Mrs. Devlin opened the telegram and read as follows: — "Am alive and well. Have heard good news. God bless you, darling. Will be with you in five weeks' time. "CHARLE.S NOBLE." CHAPTER XVI. Mrs. Devlin stared at the telegram w;tj< a puzzled look on her face. It had been despatched from Aden, and the name of the sender was unknown to her. Her instinct told her that this was some matter in which she would have to be very careful. '"There is no answer." she said to the servant. Then she fol.'ad up the thin piece of paper, and stared out across the lake, as though she hoped to find some solution to the problem in the dark fringe of trees that lay on the other side. ''Bad news?"' said Mr. Beagl-e, in a low voice. She laughed. "No, indeed," she replied; "but I am in a fix. My loss of memory is likely to prove very awkward one of these days." "It is more than likely," Mr. Beagle said, drily. Then he suddenly snatched at the niecS of paper, and tore it from her hand. Her face grew crimson with rage, and her eyes flashed, but she kept control over hei tongue. "You are a rough wooer," she sneered. "I hope you won't be jealous of Charles Noble whoever he may be."

Mr. Beagle had read the cablegram, and his face darkened. "Charles Noble was Miss England's lover," he said, slowly. "He was supposed to have been killed in Somaliland. It seems,, however, that he is still alive, and is coining here to marry_ a great heiress."

"My lover?" she queried, in a low roice.

"Miss England' 3 lover," he corrected. "They were going to be married; they had "known each other for years. You ■will have to be very careful." "Careful?" she exclaimed. "What do you mean?" "He will probably discover that you are not Miss Ruth England." She shrugged her shoulders. "I shall refer him to vow," she said, with a smila "Of course, he may be an impostor," Mr. Beagle continued. "That would be very funny—to see a man impersonating Charles Noble to make love to a lady impersonating Ruth England, and each thinking the other is genuine. It would be a farce of the highest order." Mrs. Devlin looked at him, and he shrank from the fierce glare in her eyes. "Undoubtedly," he said to himself, "this woman would be a dangerous enemy." "I always thought you were a clever man," she said, after a pause. "Do you think that you are likely to gain my affection by this ridiculous conduct?" He flushed. He was certainly making it rather obvious that he ■wanted to marry her solely for her money, and that he did not cure whether she liked him or not. "I—l am sorry," he stammered; "but you stung mc to madness. I—l really want to help you, and that is why I want you to be frank with mc." "You are trying to force mc to marry you," she coldly; "and I think you will find that a mistake. I'm afraid I am obstinate. Those who are kind to mc can influence mc; but I never give way to an enemy, not even when I am under his feet. If a man thrust a sword through ■my heart, I think I should find the strength to die with my teeth fixed in bis hand.'" Mr. Beagle shuddered, less at the words than at the cold, incisive tone in which they were uttered, and at the look on the woman's face. "Please forgive mc." he murmured. "I was jealous. I hardly knew what I was saying. This man—Mr. Devlin—he is always coming here—l have been so afraid that perhaps you were in his power —and if I—could do anything to help you '' "I need no help, thank you," she replied. "I can look after myself. It is true that Mr. Devlin has been annoying mc with his intentions; but I don't think you need fear him as a rival." "Yet it seems odd that you should allow him to enter the house," eaid Mr. Beagle, suspiciously, "after what happened when you were a companion to his wife —by the bye, what has become of his wife?" "She left him. I believe. She was jealous, and they never got on well together." "What was she like?" asked Mr. Beable, quietly. "I've never been able to come across anyone who ever saw her." "That's quite possible," she replied. "I believe she hardly ever left the house, and they had not been in England many months." "I heard that she was dead," Mr. Beagle continued, thoughtfully; "and if so, this ugly brute may want to marry you. Ir. is curious you should allow him in the hou~e at all." "Oh. no—l don't dislike him. He is certainly hideous, but he has a very charming voice." ■Mr. Beagle frowned, and looked~at"ilis watch. "I must leave you," he said abruptly, "or I shall lose my train, lv two months, then, you will give mc your answer?" "Yes, in two months—to the day." He took out a gold-mounted pocketbook, and made a note of the date. '"And you'll forgive mc?" he said, without raising his eyes from the book. '"I must have been mad just now. Of course you are Miss England; and in any case, as you said, if you're not it's my fault for thrusting "you into this position." He raised his eyes, and looked at her. "You'll forgive mc, won't you?" he added, in a pleading voico. She smiled, and held out her hand. "Of course, Mr. Beagle," she said, gently. ''You are one of my best friends—■ almost my only friend. I don't intend to let you quarrel with mc." He held her hand for a few seconds, and looked into her eyes. "If you are ever in need of help or advice," he murmured, "don't hesitate to send for mc, Mies England. I shall always be at your service." He raised his hat and walked away from her. "Silly old buffer!" she said to herself, as she watched his small, dapper form disappear down the drive. "Yet he is dangerous, and I shall have to humour him." She seated herself on the edge of a stone balustrade, and looked down the terraces towards the lake, which shone like a mirror of dull red steel in the faint glow of the western sky. And her thought.; were not of Mr. Beagle, but of the unknown man who had suddenly come into her life, of Charles Noble, who had been believed to be dead, and who was now returning to claim Ruth England as his wife. The situation presented hideous difficulties and dangers, but it was not altogether unpleasing. She wondered what this man would be like—this young soldier who had risen from the dead. Of course, she would have to keep him at arm's length, if he wished to make love to her. Yet his admiration would he sweet, for this "beautiful woman, married to Mr Devlin at the age of eighteen, had been cut off froru the world of admirers for many years. There had been one —- not long after her marriage—but her husband ha<l made short work of him. And then, as she sat there in the gathering darkness, she thought of Ruth England; and she shuddered. She often thought of the woman whose place she had taken, of the young girl, ruthlessly destroyed on the threshold of a. life that held out such glorious hopes. Lypiatt itself was full of str-ange and mysterious terrors, and. "was a, cruel prison for anyone with a guilty conscience. In a bright modern villa, lit by electric light, and sumptuously furnished, it might have been possible t6 forget that scene in the garden of Cedar House. But here, amid the gloom of great rafters, and grey stone walls, and dark panelling, it was impossible to forget. For the past fortnight every night had been a night of terror. Fear '.urked in the lofty rooms and the labyrinthine passages. It stood by her bed all through the hours of darkness —a grisly skeleton that seemed to clutch her by the throat and prevent her from breathing. She would wake up in the night and scream with terror, though the bedroom blazed i with light. She would hear voices whis- I pering, and, springing out of bed, she would fancy that she saw Ruth England looking at her with eyes of terror. Then she would realise that it was only her own reflection in a looking-glass. And often on these occasions she would go to the window and draw aside theWind, and open the window for air, and look out across the garden. And if there was any moon, she would see things moving, far away, close to a belt of trees. And. if it was dark, there would be lights, and occasionally, screaaus. And ail

ijhe time the voice would go on ingDarkness always brought these terrors with it, and they did not depart till the sun dispelled the grey mists of dawn. Even now, as ehe sat upon ■the stone •bai'ustrade, she began to feel the fingers of fear upon her arm. She dined very late —a/t a quarter to nine— so as to shorten the long, lonely evenings, and dinner would nt>t be ready for half an hour. She opened the cablegram, and tried to read it in the dim light; but she could not distinguish the words. Then she rested her elbow on a broken pillar, and gazed at the dull glow in the sky. The trees on the near side were silhouetted against the water, but those on the other bank were a dark blur, like an irregular wall. Beyond the park white streams of vapour hung over the marshland, and 'beyond that, again, a solid carpet of mist concealed the sea. Then something seemed to move along the edge of the lake, and at first it wiis indistinct, as it crept among the trees. But when it emerged on to an open space of grass it was clearly defined against the smooth sh<?et of -water. "Johan," Mrs. Devlin eaid to herself, "and without her keepers!" She rose to her feet, and hurried towards the house. The gigantic ape was never allo-wed to move a yard without ■her attendants. That had been one oJ Mr. Co.rdew's rules, and Mrs. Devlin ■was only too glad to enforce it with the utmost rigour. She entered the hall a gTeat sombre room, with a dark ceiling of Spanish mahogany and panels of oak. "Hill," sho said to a footman, "Johan is down by the edg« of the lake—.by herself. Find Martin or one of the men at once a.nd send them after 'her." The foot/man departed, but scarcely had the sound of his footsteps died away when one of the doore leading into the hall opened, and Jolui.n herself appeared, followed by Martin and a man called Jacques. Mrs. Devlin's face went white as death, and she beckoned to one of the .men. "Johan was dowa by the lake a minute ago," she said, in a low voice, "by herself. If this happens again, you'll be sacked." "Mise Johan ain't bin outside the houso this kust hour, ma'am," the man replied, "as Jak-o'll bear witness." Mrs. Devlin shivered, and iooked at the great aniimal, which was regarding her steadily with its small, dark ey«s. "I was mistaken," ehe said, slowly. "I l>cg your pardon." Then she turned on her heel, and went quickly into the garden again. The lake was still plainly visible from the terrace, and the creature, whatever it was, was still (moving to and fro among the trees. "I am going mad," *he nmttered to herseJf, as she hurried upstairs to dress for dinner. "I cannot boar it much longer. I am losing control of my senses." (To be continued next Wednesday.)