LOVE SHAKES THE DICE,

Lake County Press, Issue 2699, 13 September 1917, Page 2

LOVE SHAKES THE DICE,

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT

PY AMY MANIFOLD,

Author of “An Ambushed Foe,” “A Prince of Knaves,” ’-The Shadow of a Crime,” “The Hand of Justice,” Ac-, Ac. j (Copyright- ]

CHAPTER X V Jll —(Continued.) “Amused himself with me, then cast me off!” Bess Allender returned, tolling her lies glibly enough; “and that’s not all. My father kept a gambling club, and Castlemayne came there and played for high stakes. He rooked my poor father, driving him to ruin, and in the end—to suicide. I’m here just to show him up now. I heard from someone you’d caught his wandering fancy—his fickle heart. I got in here as maid just to open your eyes, and now I’ve done that I’ll leave the house again.” She turned to go, well satisfied with the effect of her smart piece of acting, as she marked the other girl’s shamed eyes and pallid face. Desperately Deborah caught at her hand. “You have told me the truth?” she queried hoarsely. “God knows I have!” came the lying answer, A moment later she was gone, and Deborah with a low cry of pain had sunk fainting on the couch. CHAPTER XIX.—THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE. Straight back to the farm went John Hurst, anxious to tell his story before hi.s courage cooled, knowing that he should feel absolutely a free man when his mother and Deborah’s aunt had been enlightened as to the state of affairs. In a stony silence—as it seemed to him in his nervous state of mind—the two women listened, making no comment whatever when he had finished. only regarding him in a bewildered fashion, their two faces very stern. “You understand, don’t you?” Hurst blurted out at last, their ominous silence making him desperate. “Deborah and I love each other only as brother and sister. Our engagement is at an end. She’s free, and,” with a sudden exulting laugh, “so am I!” Miss Hallam for once in her life dropped into a low chair, looking at him helplessly. His mother only smiled grimly, and yet not in an unkindly fashion. “Someone has taught thee this wisdom, my son,’ she said slowly, her eyes going to the great window to which John’s back was turned, “and that someone is coming along the lane at this very moment. Had’st thee not better meet her and tell her this news.” One quick look of amazement Hurst Hashed at the quiet speaker ere he ‘wheeled round to see Audrey Tressillian slowly nearing the gate. “Mother! and I thought you saw nothing;,” he cried with a happy laugh, dropping on his knees and catching at Mrs. Hurst’s thin hand. “Nay, lad, mother’s eyes see much,” came the tender response, while the thin hand smoothed back the thick hair from his broad brow. “I begin to think,” looking across at the amazed Miss Hallam, “that we old folks had no right to try and direct your lives ; for you. Audrey Tressilian has grown very dear to me, John; I find myself coveting her as a daughter. . Look! she is almost here!” pushing him gently away. “Go and speak to her in the garden, son. Then, if all be well, bring her to me that 1 may- welcome my new daughter.” “But—but, Deborah!” objected Miss Hallam, indignantly, recovering from . her amazement. “What will people say to this break. Everyone knows that you were to have been wed as soon as the child came of age. and now ” “Now no one will be surprised. broke in John, drily. “A plain farmer, they will say, is no fit match for Lady Lansingham, a peeress in her own right, the possessor of a great fortune. All the countryside would rejoice if the two most ancient houses in Devon were united, merged into one. as it were.” •1 Miss Hallam’s stern lips trembled

a sudden flush tinged her sallow chooks. “You are thinking of ” she bo gan very slowly, and Hurst, with a gay laugh, ended her half-finished sentence. “Of Sir Anthony Castlemayne,” lie said. “Impossible!” she objected, trying hard to speak in her usual severe way; “a gambler, a spendthrift, a rogue— >) “Nay, not that last,” cried Hurst, emphatically. “And I have a sure feeling that he will not touch the cards again.” “Horr do you know?’ austerely. “Did he not refuse to give his promise to bis dying cousin on that score?” “I admit that,” Hurst said, very gravely. “But Sir Amyas told him he would watch over him after death and guard him from temptation. He loved the boy, therefore will not easily be tempted; he loves Deborah, too, with all the strength of his noble heart; if only for her sake be will never gamble again.” Miss Hallam looked anxiously at the emphatic speaker—-bis words impressed her strangely. “I wish I could believe that,” she said slowly. “I find myself liking and respecting the young man, but—” She spoke to space. Hurst, seeing Audrey very close at hand, had slipped away to meet her. Battling with the misery possessing her, struggling to harden her heart against the man of whom she had just heard such an ugly story, the poor little baroness, utterly exhausted l , fell asleep at last, bitter tears still on her war. cheeks, her sweet lips trembling pitifully now and then; a sobbing sigh escaping them occasionally. The room grew dusk, only the light of the leaping flames illuminating it and flashing redly on the small pathetic face of the sleeper. Presently the door opening softly admitted Anthony Castlemayne, who, stealing cautiously across to the hearth, dropped on his knees beside the groat couch and gazed with yearning eyes at the fair sleeper. In one strong hand he held an opened letter, one brought to him only a few minutes before, a farm lad delivering it with the short announcement, “from Mr. Hurst!” Its contents were of the briefest description. “Deborah and I have put matters straight at last. We arc both free. I have offered my love to Audrey, and am the happiest of men.. I wish you good luck my friend. Do not delay. Speak to the little maid at once.” “I will,” the young- man had muttered, and making inquiries, he had come to the library, knowing lie would find Deborah there. For a minute he gazed at his little love, then, with a low quick cry, bent nearer to her as the firelight flashing on her sweet face discovered to him the traces of recent tears on her wan cheeks, and at the same time ho caught tiie sound of a faint sobbing sigh. “My God!” he muttered, “she is not happy. Did she. after all, love John Hurst, and is she grieving for him?” Ho broke off with a great start. The girl’s sunken eyes wore wide open, and she was looking up at him in a piteous, frightened way. “Deborah.” he said softly, coining nearer. “Did 1 startle you, little girl? 1 did not mean to alarm you. I have been waiting here for you to awaken. I have had a glorious letter from Hurst, and f came at once to you.” With a happy laugh he essayed to take her hands, hut, shrinking away, she pushed him from her and struggled to her feet, standing there a pathetic, desolate figure, very small and fraillooking in her heavy black gown. “Don’t speak to me. pleace,” she said in icy tones. “I cannot listen to you, Sir Anthony.” “By heaven, yon shall, child!” the man flashed out, towering above her,

I his grey Joyes gleaming langerously, his hands tightly clenched. “I came jto offer you my heart—my love—to ask (you to lie my wife. Hurst has told, | me you are free, and knowing this 1 ; reckoned I was not in honour bound to keep silence any longer. Deborah,” j passionately. ‘‘l love you bettor than life—-love you and want you for my own.” • The little baroness stared at him in a dull and frozen manner, her eyes full of a terrible contempt. i ( ‘‘l cannot many you, Sir Anthony,” sht' said in cold, even tones. ‘T on- ' sider your offer au insult to mo, and ’ marvel that you dare to ask me to lie your wife.” j In sudden haughty anger the man’s head was thrown hack; his eyes flashed stormily. i ‘‘What do you mean by saying 1 insult you?” he demanded with deadly calm. ' “You know,” she responded 1 rigidly. “I have no need to toll you.” i “You fear that I will fall back into the old ways—take to cards and racing again?” ho Queried. 1 ( Ts that your .reason ?” | “I cannot marry a cardplayer—a gambler,” Deborah returned in a cold, mechanical way. I Ho had caught at her hands a moj ment before, but he flung them from ! him now with savage force, and stalked 'to the door. 1 “Is that final?” he jerked out then, breathing heavily as he spoke. | “Yes, quite,” the girl said stiffly.

The other man looked at him curiously. “You’ve nothing to make you downhearted, old chap,” ho said cheerfully. , “I don’t call an ancient baronetcy and] an ample rent-roll bad luck. I know 1 . | what’s the matter, though—vegetating don’t suit your peculiar temperament, j (lad, you’re looking far more of a wreck than ever you did when you were enjoying yourself here in town!’’J Sir Anthony frowned impatiently. j You’re talking off the book, man,” ■. ho said wearily. “I left the country > some time ago and have been doing town ever since.” “Humph—the old amusements? — | cards and horses, oh-” “No.” shortly. “1 thought 1 should 1)0 glad to go hack to the old life, bui I found I had lost all liking for it. I think I shall get away abroad some where.” Deverenx looked up quickly, an eager light in liis keen eyes. “Come with me. then,” he said promptly, linking his arm in Castlomayne’s. “You played me false a little while ago, but I felt sure if 1 ’ waited you’d join mo in the end. I have made all my arrangements and sail for Africa in a week’s time. You’ll j come, eh?” “I rather fancy this expedition of i yours. Lot’s dine somewhere together and talk it over.” i “With all my heart,” Deverenx cried delightedly. “We’re close to my club; they’ll do ns well there, and we can have a quiet talk. Come along, old ! follow.” _ 1 As they turned towards the club a man passing swiftly jostled Anthony | somewhat roughly, then was swallowed up in the surging crowd. “Clumsy cad!” Devereux cried angrily, for he had caught the stranger’s awkward movement. “He might be walking with his eyes shut.” “Bah, ’tis not worth bothering 1 about,” said Castlemayne coolly. T ! caught a glimpse of the fellow as he : scudded away in such a cavalier fashion, and could almost have sworn it was a connection of mine, Horace Lansingham, hut I don’t suppose it was. 1 ’ don’t think Lansingham is in town. He was at Lanfythin when T came up. Deverenx nodded carelessly, and entering the club led the way to a table J in a quiet corner, being at once attended to by a quiet, dapper little ’ waiter who seemed to know the young gentlemen exceeding well. “I’m only just up from Devon,” Devereux remarked easily, as they ' awaited the coming of the dinner. 1 ran down for a night or two to say good-bye to my cousins, the Dares of j Westercomhe. They gave a dinner in honour of my coming, and I met all the folks from miles around at a social j gathering afterwards. Fearful heavy k affair; bored me to death.” [. Sir Anthony glanced hastily across | at his companion, a hungry look in ] his grey eyes. “My aunt, Lady Castlemayne, would . not he there,” he said slowly. “She 3 is not visiting.” “No; Carol Dare told me so. Neither was the young Lady Lasinghani of the ,i party; but the map you have just nienj tioned put in an appearance. I was s not introduced to him, hut my cousin c Kathleen, who volufitceml to give me

The next minute be had slammed the library door and was calling loudly to Troton to see that bis horse was brought round. | “What’s the matter with him?’ Charlotte Brown whispered cautiously to old Dennis, who lingered at the back of the hall watching his master with very sorrowful eyes. “I don’t know,” the butler said dietressedly. “Something’s upset him terrible; he’s in one of. bis reckless moods, and the Lord only knows what tricks he’ll be up to.” “Good heavens, bow long are they going to be with that horse?” suddenly shouted Castlemayne. Dennis, stop your infernal chattering, and go and hurry them up. The air of this house positively stifles me.” With a stride he reached the great hall door and flung it wide to find (himself face to face with Miss Mallam, • who gazed in amazement at his passion j distorted face. 1 A groom had just brought his horse to the steps. He descended and flung himself on to the' animal’s back. ! As bo gathered up the veins, he glanced back at Miss Hallam. i “You’ll find her most puritanical , ladyship the Baroness Lansingham, in tho library,” be said coldly. “Perhaps you bad better go to her. And I shall Ibo obliged if you will toll my aunt j when she returns from Plymouth that i I have been suddenly called away and (have not the faintest idea when I shall be back.” “But—but.” faltered nut Miss Hallam. finding her tongue at last. “Where are you going. Sir Anthony ?” I He laughed in his old dare-devil I way. “I am going,” he said with slow emphasis, “to London and the devil! Good-bye.” Then whipping up hi.s horse, he raced off down the long, dark avenue, Miss Hallam staring after him in a scandalized way. while Dennis sighed heavily and Charlotte Brown, standing in the shadow laughed softly to herself. j A moment Inter Miss Hallam was in the library to find a very white-faced Deborah, standing in the middle of the j floor, and expression of wild agony in her beautiful eyes. “Oh, Aunt, has he gone?” she waded out, and as Miss Hallam nodded in a would-he grim but extremely disconsolate way, she staggered forward, swayed helplessly about, and finally fell senseless into the strong and tender arms stretched out to catch her. Three people met at the small gate opening to the moor that same night : Horace Lasingham, Charlotte Brown, and Bess Allender. j “I’ve soon tired of service,” laughed the latter, as tho man handed her a 1 roll of bank notes. “But I’ve done my work well, oh?” ( “You have, indeed,” the housekeeper said approvingly. “You’d best • lie off now, or you’ll lose your train. ( For some time after her departure, ' the evil pair she left behind talked in low and eager tones. “It’s splendid!” Lansingham exclaimed as at last they parted. He won’t live long if he takes to his old ways. Tiook after rny cousin Charlotte, and give her her coffee again as she, likes it, strong and good.” Tho woman answered with a smiling nod. “There’ll soon bo no obstacle left, she said meaningly, and flitted away softly like some loathsome spirit of evil. CHAPTER XX.—AN UNEXPECTED DEVELOPMENT. “Hall, Castlemayne! Yon in town Again! 1 imagined you vegetating in the wilds of Devon. I call it jolly good luck to run up against you just at the very minute when 1 was heartily wishing you were with me.” Antlionv Castlemayne smiled grimly. He bad been strolling in an aimless fashion along Regent Street when lie found himself clutched by the arm ami turned to face a tall, spare sunburnt ( man, immaculately dressed and very spruce in every way, Irom the email of bis well brushed hat to the tips of ids patent leather boots. “Not much luck in meeting me, Devereux.” lie responded with a hard laugh. “Luck and Anthony Castlemayne seldom go band in hand.

the countryside gossip, told mo ho was quite a shining light in the community, and was supposed to ho very much favoured hy his kinswoman, the little baroness. Is that true, Castlemayne?” Anthony’s face darkened. “It may he,” he said coldly. “She has taken up her residence, I believe, at Lasingham, her aunt chaperoning her, and this man, as her land steward and agent, will, of course, see a good deal of her. People would call it a suitable match, for ho is next heir to the title and estate; indeed for many years—in fact until the old lord’s death—he was looked upon as the actual heir, no one but her grandfather being aware of the young baroness’s existence.” “By jove! quite a romance! I could wish the young lady a better husband.” Devereux went on thoughtfully. “I’ve heard a few queer stories about this Horace Lansingham.” “I daresay,” Castlemayne responded curtly. “I never liked him •, besides one cannot forget the character of the Lansingham men, false to the core. I, too,” an intensely sad ring in his deep voice, “could wish Lady Lar.singham a better husband.” No comment did the other man make on this remark. One quick, keen glance he flashed at the handsome melancholy face opposite, then busied himself with the dinner which the little waiter had just placed before them. All through the meal the talk turned on the coming trip. Only when they were enjoying their after-dinner cigar Devereux somewhat abruptly returned to the subject of the young baroness. “Did you know that Lady Lansingham had been ill. Castlemayne?” he queried suddenly. Sir Anthony paled under his bronze, and ere he answered carefully knocked the ash from his cigar. “1 knew she was not strong—that the Devon air did not scorn to brace her up”—ho said slowly. “But I—l thought she was becoming acclima--1 ised.” “Evidently not. Kathleen told mo she had just recently had some alarming attacks of faintness, and is looking shockingly ill. I believe the doctor is quite bothered about her.” Sir Anthony moved restlessly in his chair, and finally rose and walked away to an open window. “This room is confoundedly hot!”| he said, tossing his cigar end away. “Let’s get out into the fresh air Devereux. 1 feel positively stifled!” (To bo Continued.)