THE HAUNTED HUSBAND

Daily Telegraph (Napier), Issue 5710, 18 December 1889, Page 4

THE HAUNTED HUSBAND

[BY MRS. HARRIET LEWIS]

CHAPTER V. [Continued)

Then Gilbert Monk stirred in his concealment, putting out his head and listening. There was an evil glow on his boyishlooking face, a sinister gleam in his black eyes. " The devil must be helping me, I think," he whispered. " I see my way clear. My whole coarse has been marked out by these women for me. One bold step—l have time, I think—and my fortune is made !"

Ho crept like a shadow from tho folds of the curtains, and crossed the floor upon his toes. He reached the table—he paused— listened.

He heard his sister's voice in the boudoir, in conversation with the youthful marchioness whom she was plotting to destroy. He heard no sound of Ragee's return. He lifted the rustling paper, breathing a half suppressed curse. Again he listened. He took up the •' vial number three," to which the torn silken cap still clung. He pulled out the tiny stopper, and rolled two capsules out upon his hand. Then he replaced the vial as he had found it, and again ho paused to listen. His heart was beating like a drum. The fortune he was scheming to win was at stakp at that moment. A great noise was in his ears. He could not hear Miss Monk speaking to Bernice, yet the air seemed all alive. He caught up the globule from " vial number two," which Sylvia had chosen, and replaced it with one he had taken from *'viul number three." Then with the two globules he had secured, ho fled guiltily back to his concealment.

And not too soon. The curtains wore yet waving under his touch when Miss Monk returned to her dressing room and resumed her seat, taking the box again in her hands.

And in another moment old Ragee also appeared, entering as swiftly and noiselessly as a shadow.

" I barely escaped detection," thought Monk, hie heart-beats growing calmer. " But who could have foreseen that I would experience such a glorious success ? My •way is clear !" and an exultant thrill went through hia soul.

The Hindoo woman sat down again on the hearth-rug and arranged her vials, without seeing that one had been opened in her absence. This done, she carefully restored tho box to its Hecret hiding-place in the cabinet, and secured the latter. Then she took up tho single capsule which Monk had exchanged for the one Sylvia had chosen, and dropped it into a tiny vial, ■which she had brought from her room for the purpose. "You can uncork this vial in your pocket, Missy," she said, delivering tho deadly agent, " and you will find chances to use it without being seen." "I shall use it before the day is over," said Mies Monk, in her soft hissing voice. •' In a fortnight or lees, Lady Cbetwynd will repose in the family tomb in Chetwynd church. And now I am tired. I will lie down for an hour before I begin to dress for dinner, Ragvo, and you must sit by me as usual while I eleep. I am afraid to be alone."

The two adjourned to the bed-chamber, leaving the door of communication ajar. Gilbert Monk remained a long time in bin concealment, not daring to attempt bis escape. He emptied his small silver match - safe, and dropped into it the two capsules lie had stolen, and put it in hie pocket. Hβ eat down on tho window ledge and looked down into the park. Tho fear of discovery was strong - upon him, and he listened intently to every sound. At last tho regular breathing , of Mies Monk announced that she slept. The silenCe of old Hagee seemed to indicate that eho was also noiidinsr. With sudden and desperate boldness Gilbert Monk the protection of the heavy an( j crept across the dressing roo'iyCnd into the boudoir. He had uot jj c hurried softly to the Aovtfr un i oc k e d it, and slipped into the hall. JT There was no to be seen. Lady Chetwvnde do^ rs were ghut Monk enough to turn the key of in the lock with the wire used, and then crept tvu room. not till then, did ho on a couch in a glow of these capsules for my own Their possession is power n call in ouse of nee<i. Sylvia that globule to Born ice towilt die only in seeming, her dead, even Chetphall know the sneret !my month in London 'the discovery I made my fortune, if I go on as begun. But I have work to borrow rnaney of Chetwynd after and go back to London to-night. I have a ht-avy task before me in the uext week Ah ! what would Sylvia gay if she could know the trick I have played her in exchanging the arlobules ': It i* plot nnd counterplot, only that mv plans will not interfere with hers. She shall win Chetwynd, if .she can—while I win fortune !" Mies Monk appeared in tho drawing room haif an hour before dinner, as eoul and self-possessed as if no thought of evil had ever entered her mind—as if ove;; then she wer>- not meditating the basest act of treachery, the deadliest crime known t<j humanity. She was dressed with unusual care in a robo which was a marvel of beauty. Its color was that of a pale tinted leruon, and contrasted well with her swarthy complexion, ber cheeks and lips of glowing carnation, the dun blackness of her hair, and the deep, dull gloom of her sleepy Indian eyes. An overskirt of black lace gave effect and expression to her attiro. She wore her favorite jewels of yellow topaz, and a necklace composed of a duzen graduated strings of them lay like a gleaming collar on her bare brown neck, and strings of them clasped her dusky, massive anna. ■ The dull November day had cloeed long since, and tho lights wore glowing softly in the nntod globes of the gasalier, flooding the room with a mellow rndience. The fires m the grates all burned brightly, with lambent flames, and their red lances of light fell upon the carpet, the furniture and the walls. Ihe curtains of satin and lace wero dropped, their folds sweeping the floor. r °

Mies Monk aent a sweeping g!»nce around her as she approached the fire. ftThe grand long room seemed untenanted, Ufft her keen gaze espied in the deep recces of a distant window seat tho gleam of wine-hued and silken drapery, which whe knew belonged to Bernice. She turned from her course and approached the window seat with a swift undulating grace, and drawing aside the ourtiius, looked down upon the little figure that crouched on the wide window ledge Bernice looked up at her with a halftortured half-defiant expression upon her face full of infinite ivoe and gathering despair, ihere was a stormy look in the wide brilliant oycs, and the broad low brow, under masses of blue black hair, was contrusted as in deep mental pain. "Not moping, Bernice ?" suid Miss Monk. •with a caressing gaiety. »There is a world of sadness in your eyes and face. Are you fretting for the good foster-parents of St. Kilda, for the grim eland rocks, the rude nshera and fowlers, the wild life, the freedom from cares and ceremonies ? You look as if you were longing to go back to your old home."

"Oh, i wish I had never left it?" cried Beniice, with a passionate outbreuk of her despair. '• It was my home, and I hud a right there. But hero I feel like a usurper, and I cannot conquer the ieeliug. Do I not know how peoplu regard me ? They smile upon mo, they pay court to me because I am Marchioness of Uhetvvynd, but what do they really think of we? Why. I heard lioy'a aunt, who was hero last week, upbraid him for his mesalliance, and tell him that I was the first of humble blood who ever married a Chetwynd. Hβ was haughty in his answer, it is true, but he likes his aunt, and her words aro likely to rankle. And his cousin asked him who I realiy am' and he could not tell her. Think what it muet be for a proud English nobleman not to bo able to tell from what sort of people hie wifo sprung ! And the other day, as I entered the conservatory, I heard Captain Allen ask Mies Graham of Eaetbourne if Lord Chetwytd had not ' been mad when he married hia pet pretty beggar-maid V The truth is, Sylvia, the county peoplu and all Koy's relatives consider that 1 Lave committed an unpardonable presumption in marrying a marquis." "iiermco," s.iid Miss Monk, in a low voice, " you think you havo all to bear. Let me undeceive you. There other sad heart." under this roof than yours. Eoy himself has troubles to which yours are the merest trifles. No, I do not mean that Koy has sorrows : if he hua, it is not for mo to speak of them. What should ho have to trouble him ? But my life, Berniee, is dark and drearer. A year ago 1 was the happiest of women. I was betrothed to one I loved, and he loved me with tho first love of his life, that grand, overmastering pussion which never, never dies. It's a sad story, Berniee. I.only teli it you that you may «*e how small your griefs are beside mine. -He loved me—he loves me yet! Such love as his cannot die.' But I was proud and ■wilful, and we quarrelled. He was goaded

to recklessness —he went away—he— But I have said enough. In his pride and anger and mad recklessness he placed a barrier between him and me that neither he nor I oan p&ss. But I know he loves me yet. He never will be my husband in this life', Bernice, and in the Beyond there is no marriage. By one rash act, bitterly regretted by him and me, he has divided us to all eternity. ' Have I not much to bear, Bernice ? Can your childish griefs comr pare with mine ? My story is new to you ; you have never suspected it, I know. I should never have told it to yoii but to teach you that one may live on iv patience when one's heart is broken."

Bernice pressed her small face against the cold window pane, but her slight figuro was motionless. Miss Monk knew, however, that false and artfully-told story had done its work.

"Do you suppose he loves you still ?" asked Bernice, presently, in a hoarse, strained voice.

"Yes," said Miss Monk, hesitatingly. " I do not mind confessing to you, Bernice, since you do not know my lover, nor can ever know him, that he loves me still with more than the old iovo. He—has told me so of late—this very day—" She paused and covered hur face with her hand.

Bernice, still looking from the window, uttered a choking sob. Her life had been so hermit-like at St. Kilda that she had known nothing of baseness, treachery or the worst forms of wickedness. She would as soon have suspected Miss Monk of murder as of lying, and thus she received her false assertions as solemn truth. She believed that Lord Chetwynd must have spoken words of regret aud remorte that day to Miss Monk.

(to be continued)