THE Bad Lord Lockington

King Country Chronicle, Volume XII, Issue 1152, 21 December 1918, Page 2

THE Bad Lord Lockington

" v BY FLORENCE WARDEN, Author of "The House on the Marsh," &c (ALL RIGHTS RESERVE!. CHAPTER X. -(Continued.) Then lie saluted her as before, and went away, climbing over the wall at the spot where he had got over before. In spite of the good-natured and kindly warning which she had just received, Edna found it impossible to resist the temptation of making one more search in the neighbourhood of the spot where she had seen the man lying.

Carefully she searched, by the now fast-fading twilight, the ground in all directions round the place where the grass had been flattened down by the pressure of a man's form. She fancied at last she could discern the direction in which he had gone, when he left the spot; and, following the marks, real or imaginary, of muddy boots on the grass, not too easy to make out even in a better light, she came suddenly, without expecting it, close up to the wooden door of the little stone building which excited her curiosity on her first visit to this part of the park. It seemed to her that the footsteps, the impression of the muddy boots, finished just there, before the iron-bound door.

Rather struck by the suggestive fact that the man had disappeared so quickly, and that the locked door might offer a possible solution to the mystery of his hidingplace, Edna, much perturbed by the result of her curiosity, uttered a little "Oh!" and ran away in the direction of the» house. The run across the grass under the trees, which had been interesting and pleasant when she came out of the house, was by no means agreeable on her return thither. Indeed, Edna began to see shadowy forms behind each tree and each bush, to hear fancied footsteps, behind her as she ran under the shadow of the oaks and beeches; and it was with a thankful feeling that she found herself inside the flower-garden at the back of the house, and closed behind her the. little gate in the wire fence, as if that frail barrier were strong enough to keep out bogeys.

She wondered whether any remark would be made to her, when she got indoors, about her walk in the park. But nobody seemed" to know anything about it, and Mrs. Holland, whom she met presently, as she went downstairs at the sound of the gong, smiled at her and asked her merely whether she had found the time hang very heavy on her hands without any playing or singing to do. "I have, rather," said Edna with a smile. "But I went for a walk in the park, and it was nice there till it began to grow cold." She wanted to see whether the housekeeper would ask her any questions, or give her any warning similar to that given her by her labouring friend. But the only question the housekeeper put was one as to the time when she weuld be ready to see the dressmaker who was coming on the following day to make up the dress Lord Lockington had given her; and that matter settled, Mrs. Holland smilingly let her go down to dinner. Edna felt ashamed of the- neglectfulness she had shown in failing to ask after her employer's health again. But she had been so much perturbed by her adventure that this little requirement of courtesy had been forgotten. She now, therefore, turned to Revesby before she sat down, and asked him how Lord Lockington was that evening. "He's not been well enough to leave his room to-day, ma'am," said the butler; "but the doctor thinks he'll be able to get up tomorrow ; and he desired me to say that he will work you very hard at the organ and the piano, ma'am after having had to do without any music for a whole day." Edna smiled, and said she would be quite ready for as much music as Lord Lockington wanted. And then the state function of dinner began. But she was getting used to ceremony by this time, and was no longer so much ashamed of her appetite as she had been at first.

Nothing unusual disturbed the even course of the dinner, or of the quiet evening which she always spent iu the White Saloon, until Edna had looked at the illustrated papers and magazines, which, according to Eevesby's promise, had been provided for her, and until she had seated herself at the piano, played one of her pieces, and sung one or two ballads. * Then something—she scarcely knew herself whether it was only a fancy that someone .was in the room with her, nr whether it was

a fai»t sound she heard—made "her look round. Even then she was not absolutely sure that she saw or heard anything. But she had an idea that she saw a figure disappear through the doorway which led into an adjoining room.

Starting to her feet, she ran across the floor in the direction of this door, which was usually kept locked, as she knew. If she had been quite sure that she had seen a figure go through into the next room, it is probable that she would not have had courage enough to do as she now did. But being under the impression that she was the victim rather of fancy than of fact, she resolved on the instant to ascertain whether this was really the case. Long before she had reached the door she knew that it was shut, but even then, with this proof before her eyes, she was not quite sure whether someone had not gone through. So she still ran on, and, seizing the handle, turned it. expecting that it would resist her touch and < so prove conclusively—or almost conclusively—that she was the victim of a delusion. But it did not resist. On the contrary, the door flew open at her touch so quickly that she was almost thrown forward, face downwards, on to the floor of the dark room beyond. [ Eecovering herself with a little cry, Edna, now fully persuaded that what she had seen was really a living, breathing creature and no mere fancy, stood still just within the threshold of the dark and cold Blue Saloon, and, shading her eyes with her hand, peered - into the gloom. And as she stood thus quite still, listening and straining her eyes, she heard, unmistakably this time, the sound of an opening door. CHAPTER XI. Edna did not go back. Although she was suddenly impressed by the consciousness that she was doing a rash thing, that she was being too bold, and that hot' temerity might be punished in some very unpleasant way, perhaps by her getting a message from Lord Lockington to the effect that her further sei-vices would be dispensed with, she had gone too far to draw back, and she made up her mind that she would find out, once for all, one at least of the mysteries of the place. Already she had been rendered uneasy and sad by the steps which she heard about the house when all the household were in bed; that very day she had had a very ugly fright in the discovery of the'body of the man in the park, and its uncanny and mysterious disappearance. Now that she was confronted by yet a.third strange manifestation, she was resolved that this at least should yield up its mystery, and that she would find out who it was that had come and gone from the "White Saloon while she was singing.

Supposing it should prove to be Lord Lockington, as she had reason to expect, then she would be bold, would ask him why she was left to play and sing always to an employer who was not only invisible, but, except on one occasion, and to a very limited extent, inaudible also.

If this incident had occurred at another time, it is doubtful whether Edna would have had the courage to decide to give chase to the phantom intruder. But she was excited and strung up to an unusually high pitch by the strange adventure in the park that evening. She almost felt, indeed, that after such an occurrence it was impossible that anything should startle her. So, when she heard the opening of a door, she took another step forward into the dark depths of the Blue Saloon, and waited and listened again, still straining her eyes to see what was going to happen. And as she watched she saw a little line of light, extending vertically from the floor to a height of about seven feet, appearing in front of her and gradually ingEdna remained quite still, sure that this was the door at the end of the Blue Saloon being gradually opened by someone who was actually in the room with her. Wider and wider grew the line of light, always dim, but just distinct enough for her to know that there was yet a third drawingroom beyond the Blue Saloon, and that, while it was by no means light, there was in it some window or aperture which rendered it less dark than the apartment in which she was standing. At last the door stood wide enough open for the passage of a human being; and then Edna, watching with eager eyes, which had by this time grown accustomed to the gloom, saw a human figure, that of a man wrapped in a long cloak, slip quickly through the opening from the Blue Saloon into the apartment beyond. . " Ah 1" cried Edna. *' There's someone there! Who is it?" There was no answer. The figure had disappeared, and presumably slipped through the aper-

ture into the third room. Gb**ez> daring, Edna, resolvell at all risks to satisfy her curiosity, which was getting painfully intense undeT this series of mysteries, made a dash forward, reached the still half-open door, pulled it wide, and went through into a great void, with darkness into which a slit of light through the top of a window on her right hand sent a glimmer which seemed rather to intensify the gloom. There was a musty smell here, such as she had not noticed in the Blue Saloon. It seemed as if this, the third apartment, was so remote from use and from light and warmth as to have grown mouldy and damp from neglect and abandonment.

By the help of the dim ray of murky light through the top of the window, which was heavily shuttered and bai'red, she peered around her, made out great stacks of furniture, piled in the centre as in the Blue Saloon, shadowy mirrors hung with long veils of holland, looking like spectres on each side; more veiled pictures on the walls; more waste of cold white marble mantelpiece, ghostly in the empty room, on her left hand. Having made out so much, Edna puzzled as to the exact direction in which the mysterious figure had disappeared, and suddenly overcome by a sense of the chilliness and dreariness of the place, was about to beat a retreat, when, turning to do so, she felt herself seized from behind, and pinioned with her arms to her sides.

She did, indeed, utter a little cry, but it was rather one of surprise than of alarm. She had expected to meet a human figure; she had begun vaguely to fear that she should instead meet with something more uncanny, and less human. And the touch of the warm, human hand, while sufficiently startling, rather reassured t3iau alarmed her. For there was nothing ferocioxis, savage, or rough about the pressure. She was caught, and the action of her unseen assailant seemed to tell her so. But she was not hurt, she was not held aggressively. She remained, therefore, without any attempt at a struggle in the grasp of her captor for a couple of seconds, and then she asked in a voice which was almost steadv : "Who are you?" The first answer was a laugh, in a man's voice, not mocking or alarming, but rather a playful expression of pleasure in the adventure. "Who are you?" she repeated more calmly than before. And, to her great relief, a most human masculine voice, full and pleasant to the ear, if perhaps rather gruff, answered her: "Who do you suppose I am?" Edna summoned all her eoni'age. She knew what answer she was going to give, but she was by no means sure how it would be received. Supposing it should anger him, what would he do? Nothing very dreadful surely, when he had a voice so human, a touch so gentle. Anyhow, it had to be risked. "I suppose," she said, quietly, "that you are Lord Lockington?" Her response was received with no outburst of anger, with no apparent emotion at all. There was a pause, and then her captor said, without attempting to release her: "And I've frightened you very much, I suppose ?" To that her answer came very promptly and clearly:'' Not at all. I w r as rather frightened by your never seeing me, never speaking to me. I'm very glad indeed that you've brol en your silence at last." "You are very lonely here, with no one to speak to?" "Well, it would be much pleasanter to know when I've pleased you by my playing or singing." "No amount of speaking could express the pleasure I've had in your music. If that is the only reason why you are displeased by my silence, you may now. take it for granted, once for all, that I am delighted by it. Now, are you satisfied?"

"Not quite." " / "Not satisfied yet? Why, what more, do you want?" "Will you see me sometimes and speak to me? Only from the gallery. If you would just show yourself for a few moments, and nod to me, or smile at me, and so show me that I am playing to a human being, I can't tell you, Lord Lockington, how much pleasanter it would be. Of course, I have no right to ask; but if you would I should be so very, very glad." "Anything else?" She rather thought she detected a note of mockery in his tone. But as she felt sure she had asked nothing preposterous, and claimed, no more than any employee's right, she stood her ground, and said, quietly: "That's all, Lord Lockingten. Except that I shall be glad if you'll now let me go." "And don't you think you deserve any punishment for your curiosity? Don't you know that curiosity is a vice, and that you had no business to follow me into this room when you might have seen I wanted to escape you?"* (To be C-viK