LADY MARGOT'S LEAP.

Lake County Press, Issue 982, 3 October 1901, Page 2

LADY MARGOT'S LEAP.

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[By Maggie Swan, author of ‘ Life s Blindfold Game.' etc.] CHAPTER 1. In her earlier years Miss Rachei Blyth had kept a dame's school in Si. Cove, but when well past fifty her health broke down, and her temper—never a sweet one at its best—suffered 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 whan her nicec 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 cf 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 shcll-likc cars; 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. Ii was not long, however, before the depressing atmosphere of the Gable House began to leave its mark on 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 hours at a time she would bo 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 exorcised 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 Ra- * .-hr! in her daily walks or at church on the Sabbath day. She was nineteen when ihc even tenor of Sr. Cove life was broken by the arrival cf 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 sec the son of the man who had been one of the beans of St. Cove in his young days, and whoso hasty banishment, to foreign parts ty 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 iu her heart, when she heard of the young man s arrival at the home of his aunts.

“ If young Robert Jardine has inherited all his 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 ii 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 10-day. 1 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 with 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 Jardinc to the kirk. On this occasion Lilian occupied her aunt’s pew alone, Miss Rachel being indisposed and unable lo attend the service. The Misses

jardine sat in the pew immediately behind, 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 tisher 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 those 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 land whisper as soon as he was seated, " I thought you sail! the old termagant sat in the pew before ns. Has ;l mysterious metamorphosis taken place, or who is that sweetly interesting young creature P’’ 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 comment. so loudly made on herself. At the close of the service 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. "Mi-s Lilian, this is our nephew Robert he seeks to make your acqaintance, -site said faintly, with the air of one compelled to an 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 laached the street, in which the. Gable House stood. Even then the young man seemed t'oth to part, and would have had Mi-s Harriet lu up the street- and round about instead ot turning directly down to G rat go er. Lilian, ttowever, interposed with much fit mio-s being filled with dread If-! her aunt s-honid ■' ' them from the window, and put an cud, at, rite verv •vm -m. to further intimae- lriw"n them. " However, we will meet again very soon. ;,p said in a low vole. . as Miss Harriet. turned awav. For a brief instant their hands met and "their eyes-a moment not- too brut tor the mystery of iovc 10 wake up passionately in the beans m each. ( ffALTER II (die,a and scheming as the would-be Hoiieri, Jardine was, it remained always a won<:«r ’i, ril. Gove how lie succeeded in enlti-•-•urtiiig acquaintance with Lilian lily I li. while h*r shrewish old aunt remained entirely ignorant of the fact, Lilian herself was amazed at the frequency with which they managed to see each other, but accepted everything wilhout questioning. In Robert .lardine. s society she entered upon a dream life, wherein, lu her long starved senses, tin 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 ruined lower facing the sea. " You have not yet heard, have you, the old story told about this tower?" asked Lilian as they made their approach, and R.ioert Jardine replying in the negative, slip at once went on. “It is ;lie. property ot I be

Kilvcrs, yonder is the old castle <ar re on the bill—and the story is about, a rang! toot the Earl’s who was called f -mv Alar ot. A French gentleman fell in love >viiu her 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 tboir 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, their faces turned seaward. Robert Jardinc 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 ot assured love. "It. would be rattier 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, wc will manage to cheat Miss Rachel, as we have cheated her this morning, and take a midnight, si roll along the cliffs. You would not. he afraid to conic here alone with me?” " No," she answered shyly. " 1 would go with you anywhere without fear." “My darling, yon can trust, me then so much,’’ he returned passionately. “Would to heaven I had it in my power at this very moment- to take you away for over from your present miserable life, but (ill my position with ,my aunts is more secure than it is now —I 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 hero in St. Cove, where I can see you almost every day. ” And if so little yields you such happiness, Lilian, what will it. be for ns both when wc arc free to claim each other till i death parts ns?” he continued passionately, j “The. desire to hasten matters overrules me ! glmost 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 time. 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 anything but. an impostor. j Poor Lilian! Her trust in. the man who had won her love was so implicit that not a doubt shadowed it. The upward glance of 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 tlie afternoon of this day that the true Robert Jardinc came home to claim his own. The news ot it reached the Gable House through tiie medium of Lisbcth 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 kept 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- of news that has come my way for years, ' she exclaimed. “ That detestable fellow over at Craigo’er is no nephew of the Misses .Tardine after all, but a wicked impostor. Robert .Jardine's true son has come home today, and shown up all the deception—so be 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, girl? Why do you stare at mo as if you had taken leave of your senses?” But Lilian s only answer was to fall iu a swoon at her aunt’s feet.

CHAPTER 111. It was as Miss Rachel had told. George Stapleton—the would-be Robert dardino — 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 his 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 sou! dominated every other thought and feeling. What did it matter, she asked herself wildly, though he was base and treacherous to others if only he was true to her? And i! he sought her she would stand by him against thc'wnrld, careless of all shame, and tearless 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- torgotten 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 foi* you, can yon trust, me, as you said you could on that, fatal day of onr parting, and give up all for niv sake P In six days I leave for Manchester. where 1 have secured a temporary post, and what J wish to propose is this; that next Tuesday evening after dark you wait for me in the old tower on the elitls. I shall come for you from Westerhaven in a carriage which will wail, out on road beyond, and convey us to Anstruther. There we shall be compelled to stay for the night, hut next morning we can catch a train tor Edinburgh, and continue onr 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 we wish to avoid. My darling! 1 wait in keen

suspense for vonr answer- m\ weal or woe for tin- 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 In, stealth, fur an uncanny feeling possessed net that liei aunt was watching her movements suspiciously, though she spoke never a word. The next five days eium and vvenl all too slowly for her who e whole being throbbed with feverish anxiety lest any new turn ot events should change the prospect In lore her. tint the appointed night came ~l last. .Sickness and languor had so fd'e . . v. r- . oin< her during the past, lew w . ks I hut a was not, difficult to feign both on (his occasion, and retire to her own loom shortly aft. r 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 ihe roeni in which her aunt sal. It was now the end ot August, and, there being no moon, it was quite d;.d. wh.n Lilian stole out into the street, dress, .. lor the journey, and carrying with her a small black bag. The St. Cove folks i. pi . ;■ i ly hours, so that she did not encounter a siug.e soul, but. as she sped across the braes each breath of wind that, fanned her • hj - ■ I'. or dash of the waves on the shore beneath, filled her with vague and ever-increasing terror. Reaching the tower at. length, she looked about- eagerly, hoping to find her lover already on the spo; but there was no sign

of living thing anywhere' in sight, and as she paced restlessly to and fro, pc 'rmg ah.nit 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 r 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 ef the lady Margot ! With a shrill cry of terror Me stepped backwards, not knowing how near she already stood to the edge of the chits. 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 shrill 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 r.vm other’s fear-stricken eyes. "1 have killed herH Woman! W.uit do vou mean?" he returned hoarsely.

" At your dastardly bidding she came here," continued Miss Rachel, “and 1, 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, arc responsible for her awful end!" "Woman, vou Ho—it is you who have driven her to death!" cried George Stapleton, passionately, "and before you quit ibis earth you shall pay the price of her life, and my soul’s weal." Miss Rachel put out her hands as if 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, oven after long years had rolled away. Through Miss Rachel the details of the story came out, for, having .vaicaed 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 to hi, and her part in Lilian’s sudden end 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.