LADY MARGOT’S LEAP.

Dunstan Times, Issue 2098, 8 October 1901, Page 6

LADY MARGOT’S LEAP.

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[Bv Maggie Swan, author of ‘Life’s Blindlold Game.’ etc.] CHAPTER I. In her earlier years Miss Rachel Blyth had kept a dame’s school in St. Cove, but when well past fifty her health broke down, and her temper—never a sweet one at its bestsuffered sadly in consequence. Gradually, month by month, her pupils dropped away, and in the end she was forced to resign her profession. Old Dr Blyth had bought the Gable House on retiring from the army, and it was there after his death that his daughter set up school, as a means of eking out a slender livelihood. She was in her sixtieth year when her niece came to the Gable House to stay with her—the only child of a brother whose existence had never before been heard of in St. Cove, but the general belief was that his career had not been what it should, else Miss Rachel would have been less guarded in making mention of him. At this time Lilian Blyth was only a girl of sixteen, and many pitied her on hearing of her arrival at St. Cove, for to youth, with all its ardent desires for freedom and pleasure, companionship with Miss Rachel meant nothing short of a living death. She was a slender, graceful creature, with soft dark hair, which curled in pretty, natural ringlets on her white brow and about her shell-like ears; color she had none, but when she came at first there was a brilliant lustre in her deep blue eyes which seemed to lighten up her whole, face. It was not long, however, before- the depressing atmosphere of the i Gable House began to leave its mark bn her. What marvel was it when Miss Rachel kept her continually under her own vigilant eyes, and, if not occupied sweeping and cleaning, saw to it that she was never a moment idle? For hburs at a time she would be forced to sit and sew worsted work, in all the impossible colors which existed in the days of our grandmothers. Sometimes a little variety was offered in the way of making rough flannel or calico garments for missions—the latter being the manner in which Miss Rachel exercised the spirit of Christian charity. Lilian was not allowed to make any friends in the place, and was seldom seen out of doors, except when accompanying Miss Rachel in her daily walks.or at church on the Sabbath day. She was nineteen when the even tenor or St. Cove life was broken by the arrival of the Misses Jardine's would-be nephew. The story of Robert Jardine’s youthful indiscretion—the forging of a cheque in his father s name to -pay some debt of honor, —had long "since been forgotten by all save the oldest residents of the place. Among the latter was Miss Rachel; and she, curious to see the son of the man who had been one of the beaus of St. Cove in his young days, and whose hasty banishment to foreign parts by his father had caused such general regret,' lost no time in calling at Craigo er. On this occasion she did not allow her niece to accompany her, to Lilian’s secret disappointment, for a kindred feeling had wakened in her heart when she heard of the young mans accival at the home of his aunts. “If young Robert Jardine has inherited all ais father’s bad qualities, without his good ones, which is more than probable, I must take care, Lilian, that you don’t make his acquaintance,” Miss Rahcel said, as she pinned on .her white India shawl and arranged her bonnet strings preparatory to setting out. What transpired , during her visit to Craigo’er Lilian did not learn till afterwards, and then from the lips of the young man himself; but Miss Rachel came home in a furious temper, vowing never to set foot in Craigo’er again,-so long at least,as the ladies chose to entertain their nephew under their roof. “ The most detestable fellow it was ever my lot to meet,” she exclaimed tartly when Lilian ventured to question her, “ and I m more than thankful I had the good sense to keep you at home to-day. I won’t permit any sort of intimacy between you—remember that, Lilian.” . These words only whetted the girl s curiosity, and she never went out her aunt without hoping to meet Robert Jardine, a hope which was gratified beyond her expectation on the second Sunday of his stay in St. Cove, when he accompanied Miss Harriet Jardine to the kirk. On this occasion Lilian occupied-her aunts pew alone, Miss Rachel being indisposed and unable to attend the service! The Misses Jardine sat in the pew immediately behind,i 'and as Lilian was early in her place she saw Miss Harriet enter, followed by her nephew, and her interest at once centred on the latter. It was a mutual interest, for the young man’s eyes fell on her also, and discerning in her a creature of a different type from the brown-faced fisher lassies who thronged the pews, he studied her face intently, such glimpses, at least, as he could catch of it when she turned her head during a service which, to one of his nature and upbringing, ■ was decidedly irksome. Till the close of the service Lilian had to satisfy herself with the brief, view’of him she had gained, as he followed his aunt down the aisle, but his was a personality which, though only seen in a casual way, could not be forgotten. His tall, slim figure, and handsome face tanned with foreign suns, his sharp observant features and keenly glancing dark eyes, all these points Lilian noted: and, aware that his eyes met hers with equal interest as he passed the end of the pew, her heart-beats quickened, and the listlessness faded from her face. “Aunt,” she heard him say in a loud whisper as soon as he was seated, I thought you.said the old termagant sat in the pew before us. Has a mysterious metamorphosis taken place, or who is that sweetly interesting young creature?” Lilian heard Miss Harriet silence him in a ' low flustered whisper, and could imagine the look of offended propriety on her withered old face, her own cheeks flushing at the com- • ment'so loudly made on herself. At the close of the sendee she again heard him say something to Miss Harriet, of which she was the subject, and when, she rose to leave the pew the occupants behind rose also, while Miss Harriet touched her nervously on the shoulder: ' • “Miss Lilian, this is our nephew Robert, he seeks to make your acqaintance,” she said faiiitly, with the air of one compelled to an ' ' r act of imprudence. Lilian’s pale cheeks flushed a lovely rose, and she lifted her dark eyelashes tremulously to meet the young man’s gaze. He bowed and offered his hand with a winning grace of which he was master; -then the trio left the church, walking together until they Peached the street in which the Gable House *tood. Even then the young man seemed loth to part, and would have had Miss Harriet ' go-up the street and round about instead of ‘ turning directly down to Craigo er. Lilian, itowever, interposed with much firmness, being filled with dread lest her aunt should see them from the window, and put an end, at the very outset, to further intimacy between them! . „ “However, we will meet again—very soon, he-said in a low voice, as Miss Harriet turned away. For a brief instant their hands met and their eyes—a moment not too brief for the mystery of love to wake up passionately in the hearts of each. CHAPTER 11. Clever and scheming as the would-be Robert Jardine was, it remained always a won<4«r to St. Cove how “he succeeded in cultiacquaintance with Lilian Blyth, while shrewish old aunt remained entirely- ignorant of the fact. Lilian herself was amazed at the frequency with which they managed to ate each other, but accepted everything withoot questioning. In Robert Jardine s society she entered upon a dream life, wherein, to her long starved senses, the very, gates ot paradise seemed to open. One morning, several weeks after their first meeting with each other, Robert Jardine having arranged Lilian’s escape from the Gable House,they wandered far along the top of the cliffs to an old mined tower facing the, sea. “ You have net yet heard, have you, the old story told about this tower?” asked Lilian as they made their approach, and Rooert Jardine replying in the negative, she at once went on. “It is Uie property of She

Kilvers, yonder is the old castle far vp on the hill—and the story is about a daughter of the Earl’s who was called J aay Margot. A French gentleman fell in love wibbt.hor and wanted to marry her, but for some private reason the Earl hated him with a fierce hatred, and forbade his daughter having aught to do with him. ‘Leddy Margot,’ as she is always spoken of now among St. Cove folks, was of a different mind, however, and when the Frenchman sought her, consented to run away with him. She was to be waiting for him at midnight in the tower here, and he was to land a little boat in that bay below, and row her out to his yacht. True to her promise, she went to the tower, but their scheme had been discovered, and though a boat did land it was not her lover’s, but her father’s, and driven frantic by his passionate outburst of wrath she jumped over the cliffs, and was seen no more. That is why the point here is called ‘ Lady Margot’s Leap ’ to this day, and St. Cove folks aver that her ghost walks round the tower at midnight—a figure robed in a long grey cloak and hood.” While she told the story they had reached the tower, and now stood leaning against its walls, thenfaces turned seaward. Robert Jardine was very near to Lilian, so near that his breath touched her cheek, and suddenly becoming conscious that his eyes dwelt on hers eagerly, she raised her own, and met his gaze with the confidence of assured love.

“It would be rather interesting to see ‘Leddy Margot,’ don’t you think so, Lilian?” he said, his face relaxing into a half-smile. “ Only I suppose there is small likelihood of her appearing to us in the broad day. Some night, perhaps, we will manage to cheat Miss Rachel, as we have cheated her this morning, and take a ■ midnight stroll along the cliffs.. You would not be afraid to come here alone with me?”

“No,” she answered shyly. “I would go with you anywhere without fear.” “My darling, you can trust me then so much,” he returned passionately-. “Would to heaven I had it in ray power at this very moment to take you away for ever from your present miserable life, but till my position with my aunts is more secure than it is now—l am bound hand and foot.” “ But my life is not now miserable,” added Lilian with shining eyes, “ and will never again be so long as you remain here in St. Cove, where I can sec you almost every day-. “And if so little yields you such happiness, Lilian, what will it be for us both when we are free to claim each othei till death parts us?” he continued passionately. “The desire to hasten matters overrules me almost at times, and I have to keep a tight grip of myself. Penniless as I at present am, I would not have dared to ask you to share my life had I not known that my aunts’ patrimony, once secured, would make me independent for all ( iime. Strange to say, they are still haunted with the idea that I am not their nephew, but given a few more months to establish their faith in me all will be well. You at least, my darling, know me to be any-thing but an impostor. Poor Lilian! Her trust in the man who had won her love ‘was so implicit that not a doubt shadowed it. The upward glance ot her lovely eyes proved this wholly, and if no qualm touched his conscience at that moment he was even more utterly base than he was afterwards proved to be. It was the afternoon of this day that the true Robert Jardine came home to claim Ins own. me news of it reached the Gable House through the medium of Lisbeth Wishart, who came in an evening at a time to scrub out Miss Rachel’s kitchen—the rest of the housework Lilian managed herself. During the scrubbing process Miss Rachel always kepi a watchful eye on Lisbeth, and shortly after the latter’s arrival on this evening she came to her niece, her face visibly glowing with satisfaction. ~, - “ I’ve just heard the most welcome bit ot news that has come my way for years, she exclaimed. “That detestable fellow over at Graigo’er is no nephew of the Misses Jaidine after all, but a wicked impostor. Robert Jardine’s true son has come home today, and shown up all the deception so he has been forced, to flee the place. His real name, it seems, is George Stapleton, and he was working on a gold claim out in California with Robert Jardine when Robert took fever. . Thinking he might not recover, Robert entrusted all the letters and papers proving his identity to this fellow* for the purpose of sending them home to his aunts and the deceiver saw his opportunity at once. Instead of waiting to nurse Robert back to health he forsook him that. very night, and made his way over to this country. Well, I’m downright thankful his villainy has- been proved in the end. What is it, airlP Why do you stare at me as if you had taken leave of your senses?” But Lilians only answer was to fall in a swoon at her aunt’s feet. CHAPTER HI. It was as Miss Rachel had told. George Stapleton—the would-be Robert Jardine had fled, the place, and whether deterred by shame or fear of further discovery without seeking even a brief interview with the girl whose love he had won. Miss Rachel s suspicions were aroused by the manner in which her niece had received the news ot Ins treachery, but with the wisdom of the serpent she kept her own counsel in the matter. At the first Lilian’s faith in her lover received a terrible shock, and she recoiled almost from the thought of ever seeing him again, but too soon such feelings" passed, and a passionate yearning for the love which had been like nectar to her thirsty soul dominated every other thought and feeling. y\ hat did it matter, she asked herself wildly, though he was base and treacherous to others if only he was true to her? And it be sought her she would stand by him against the world, careless of all shame, and fearless of the future. One week passed, another and yet another, and still she clung to the hope that despite his long silence he had not tor-o-otten her—a hope which strangely enough was finally satisfied. One morning a letter came to her from George Stapleton containing after many expressions of undying love, these lines: “ And having done my utmost to prove how great is my love for you, can you trust me, as you said you could on that fatal day of our parting, and give up all for mv sake? In six days I leave for Manchester, where I have secured a temporary post, and what I wish to propose is this; that next Tuesday evening after dark you wait for me in the old tower on the chits. I shall come for you from Westerhayen in a carriage which will wait out on the road beyond, and convey us to Anstruther. There we shall be compelled to slay for the night, but next morning we can catch a train tor Edinburgh, and continue our journey _to Manchester. I shall endeavor to be at the tower between half-past nine and ten, when it is quite dark. Earlier we might be seen, which is, of course, what vve wish to avoid. My darling! I wait in keen suspense for your answer—my weal or woe for the future now depends entirely on you. Lilian’s answer need scarcely- be told, She wrote that same night to George Stapleton, and posted the letter by- stealth, for an uncanny feeling possessed her ihafc her aunt was watching her movements suspiciously, though she spoke never a word. The next five days came and went all too slowly for her whose whole being throbbed with feverish anxiety lost any new tum of events should change the prospect before her. But the appointed night came at last. Sickness and languor had so oltei overcome her during the past few weens that it was not difficult to feign''both on tins occasion, and retire to her own room shortly after nine. Miss Rachel, who was a .poor sleeper, never went early to bed, but Lilian knew she could easily escape by the kitchen door, which was far removed from the room in which her aunt sat. It was now the end of August, and, there being no moon, it was quite da dr when Lilian stole out into the street, dressed for the journey-, and carrying with her a small black hag. The St. Cove folks !;.°pt early hours, so that she did not encounter a sr.igie soul, but as she sped across the braes each breath of wind that fanned her ch-iiR, or dash of Ihc waves on Ihe shore beneath, filled her with vague and ever-increasing terror.

Reaching the tower at length, she looked about eagerly, hoping lo find her lover already bn ..ttuuspot but there was no sign

of living thing anywhere in sight, and as she paced restlessly to and fro, peering about her in the darkness, a new dread took hold of her—the thought of Lady Margot’s ghost. How strange that the memory of Lady Margot should not have occurred to her before, when-thus far their fates were so similar. Ah, surely, no such terrible end awaited her as had befallen the Lady Margot! Why did her lover not come? It must be past the appointed hour, and she felt that she could not bear the dread loneliness of the place a. moment longer. What silent figure was that moving towards her now, robed in a long trailing cloak —not her lover, but a woman, the ghost of the lady Margot! With a shrill cry of terror she stepped backwards, not knowing how near she already stood to the edge of the cliffs. Another step, and yet another, despite the warning cry of the advancing figure, and the next moment the sea beneath had opened its, dark bosom to receive her. At the same moment George Stapleton reached the spot, hurried thither by the first shnil cry of terror, and in the darkness Miss Rachel and he came face to face. “You have killed my niece!” she gasped out, while they looked into each other’s fear-stricken eyes. “I have killed her? Woman! Waat c.o you mean?” he returned hoarsely. . “ At your dastardly bidding-she came here,’ continued Miss Rachel, and I, knowing your evil heart, followed her hither, to save her from you, but so great was her terror — alone in this God-forsaken spot to which you have called her—that driven to madness she has leapt over these rocks! You, and no other, are responsible for her awful end! “Woman, you lie—it is you who have driven her to death!” cried George Stapleton, passionately, “and before you quit this earth you shall pay the price of her life, and ray soul’s weal.” Miss Rachel put out her hands as it in wild protest, and George Stapleton, turning then with sudden haste, left her alone with her conscience. * *

George Stapleton was never again heard of in St. Cove, but the tragic part he had played in the life of poor Lilian Blyth was told again and again with bated breath, even after long years had rolled away. Through Miss Rachel the details of the story came out, for, having watcaed the movements of her niece with a vigilance scarcely' comprehensible, she had suspected her intended flight with George Stapleton and followed her to the tower, intending to frustrate her plans at the last moment. How she had succeeded is already told, and her part in Lilian’s sudden cud so preyed upon her mind that reason became unhinged. For a few years she lingered on in the Gable House, a crazy, God-forsaken old woman, in whose life George Stapleton s prophetic words found ample fulfilment.