A CORONET OF SHAME.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLI, Issue 12464, 7 January 1904, Page 3

A CORONET OF SHAME.

BY CHARLES GARVICE, Author of "Queen Kate," "In Cupid's Chains," " A Life's Mistake," " The Outcast of the Family," " On Love's Altar; or, A Fatal Fancy," Etc., Etc.

CHAPTER XXVll.—(Continued.) A strange thing Lad happened to Glave. Hitherto he had been under the impression, that lie had been fortunately constructed without a heart. He had met and been friendly with a number of beautiful women, but not one of them had produced any effect upon him. In fact, ho had always felt a strong contempt for the weaker sex, and had regarded them as tools, to be used and thrown aside, rungs in the social ladder, to be trodden upon in his ascent, and then kicked away. Then he had metJJes t and lo ! all of a sudden he had discovered that, after all, he possessed (hat inconvenient organ—the heart, which is the cause of so much trouble in this maddest and saddest of all worlds. He was astonished, and very much annoyed and disgusted. He told himself, as he walked round to his rooms in Chelsea after the party at which he had first seen her, that she was a girl, a mere slip of a girl, with dark hair and gray-blue eyes, and not worth hie consideration. Why, he knew a dozen women mute beautiful, more striking. Even Deb. was more superb. Then he saw her again—indeed, he sought her—and the effect, the influence, she possessed was increased. He fished for invitations to parties where he knew he should meet her, and gradually that passion, which masters the worst as well as the best of us, got its hold upon Mr. Glave and gripped him hard. He fought against it, but it was of no use. His heart beat quickly when he saw her, and beat still more violently when she turned her eyes upon him or spoke to him. He told himself that he had no chance. There was Bruce, to begin with ; and though Bruce was disposed of fur a time, and the engagement, broken off, there were Lord Levondale and Sir Robert, to say nothing of two or three more, who were dying to offer their hands to the little slip of a girl.'' But. Mr. Glave did not lack courage and audacity. He knew that the Wheel of Fortune turned in the most eccentric and extraordinary fashion, and that the gods often favour those who seem least deserving and least likely to succeed. He knew that Jess detested and distrusted him, but Mr. Glave cared very little for that. He wanted Jess, j not her love. | So he haunted, shadowed her, and was so j careful and cautious that Jess could find i nothing to complain of or afford her an ex- j cuse for dismissing or cutting him. And | every day his passion grew, until he found ! himself lying awake trying to find some way j of securing her, for he knew that his only j chance of getting her was by artifice and j cunning. I His presence that night was a burden and a wearinessworse, an irritation—to Jess; j but she could do and say nothing to get rid of him until quite unexpectedly, the footman announced " Mr. Frank Forde." He was startled at sight of her, and the blood rushed to his face as he held her hand. " I-—I didn't know you were in London !" he stammered. " I came up to-day, and i and—l knew this was one of Lady Marvelle's evenings, and came in. We are old friends —she has always been very kind to —" Jess helped him. " I am staying, living, with Lady Marvelle," she said, while my father is away. He is in Africa. She will be very glad to see vou —and so am I!" She spoke the truth. She was glad to see him. Experience had taught her the value ; of a simple, true-hearted man, and she had learned to value Frank Forde's offer of friendship. For the first time for some weeks, Mr. Glave found himself shunted, so to speak, for Jess kept Frank Forde by her side all the evening. He was the last to go, and as he bade her " good night" he looked at her steadilv and anxiously. " Of'course, I have heard the rumour," he said in a low voice. " I have heard that— that the engagement with Lord Ravenhurst has been broken off." Jess looked down at her bouquet in silence. "Is it true?" he asked. She felt terribly mean, but she was forced to assent by an inclination of the head. " Then—then—Jess, I must ask you — there—an hope for me':" She shook her head and raised her eyes to his. , , .4, "No," she said, very gently, and witn a tremor in her voice. " Don't ask me that. Some day vou will know why it is impossible, I shall never marry—anyone—but him !" she finished. He drew a long breath and forced a smile. " All right," he said in his old way. " But Em still vour friend. Let me be that, Jess!" Her hand closed over his, and she saw him through a mist as she replied : "Yes: 1 hold you to your promise. I have one friend, at least, in the world." " Yes," he said. " Who is that man who hovers about you so, Jess?" he broke off to ! ask, as Mr. Glave came up with her fan ] which she had left on a divan. j "A Mr. Glave." she said, impatiently. j(" Thank you, Mr. Glave.") " Don't you like j him':" Frank Forde frowned. " I don't like the look of him. I'm sorry, as he is a friend of yours." i " Not much of a friend ;an acquaintance," I she said, casually. " But now you are in town we must see a great deal of you. _ Let me see, would you care to come to a dinner at Clansmere House on Monday':" " It' you are there," he replied. Jess* laughed and then sighed. "I am always there," she said. " The earl is Lady Maivelle's brother, you know ; and, besides, he and 1 are great friends. lie has been very kind to me, and 1 am very fond of him." "How strange! Lord Ravenhurst's father!" he commented. Jess blushed. " Yes. If you care to come. I will get the earl to send you tin invitation." "Wherever you are; thanks," he said, as lie wished her good night. A day before the dinner-party Lady Marvelle and Jess went to stay at Clansmere House. Now, just at this time, Africa was beginning to loom large in the public eye. We had been making rapid progress there, but our progress had been attended by the usual kind o f trouble. There is a deeply-rooted idea in the Englishman's mind that he is equal in a light to three Frenchmen or Germans, or any number of other foreigners. It is a lovely and a flattering idea, but it is a singular and terrible delusion, and it works its own retribution whenever we go to war. 11, lot instance, we have, to deal with .an outbreak or a rebellion on the part of some vassal or inimical tribe we invariably send about one quarter of the men necessary to win the light, and, nine times out of ten, we .are beaten. As England cannot niford to play the part of the. vanquished we follow up with a heavier force, and, of course, ultimately become the victors. It is a stupid and costly mistake, but we have made it from time immemorial, and, it j is to be supposed, will continue to make it until we have realised that other nations I can 1m; as brave as we tire, and that, given | the same weapons and favourable conditions, j our foes are as likely to pull off the event as - I we can be. I This charming illusion had been in operation in Africa. A native force had rebelled, and attacked one of our stations, and we had sent a couple of hundred gallant fellows, all of them quite certain of victory, j and the natives had pretty nearly annihiI la ted them. ' Our men had performed prodigies of valour, had accomplished forced marches, had suffered hunger, thirst, wet, cold, heat, had lacked proper ammunition and a decent commissariat, and had been badly beaten. ! All England, and not a little of Europe, : was talking of them and their heroic deeds, and a larger and more effective force was, as usual, being sent out to avenge them and achieve the objects in which they had been doomed to fail. On the night ot the dinner-party at Clansmere House the newspapers were full of the accounts of the defeat ot the first force, and i details of the second which was being sent , in its footsteps.

And Lord Ravenhurst's name figured largely in these accounts. He was in command of one of the companies which had been nearly annihilated, and had led his men and fought with a coolness and a courage which was beyond praise. The earl had read the papers, but he sat at the head of the table and entertained his guests as calmly and delightfully as if the Lord Ravenhurst whose name was on every lip that night were no connection of his. Jess had not seen that day's journals, and though she knew that the English force was in awkward straits, was ignorant of the worst; and as the earl smiled and laughed and talked so serenely she did not feel particularly unea,sy. The gentlemen sat over their wine rather longer than usual that evening, and some of them discussed, in an undertone too low to reach their host's ears, the all-absorbing topic. They were talking of it still as they entered the drawing-room, and one young man —no other than Lord Desmond—as he stood with his teacup in his hand, grew eloquent and excited. He did not notice that Jess was seated near him, and within hearing; and if he had done so it would not have stopped him, for he did not know of her interest in Bruce "I tell you it was the finest thing that ever was done," he said. " There were a hundred to one against them, and the Matabeles had the best of the position. Our men were on theii way to rescue a party of settlers, or some people at one of the small mines up countryit's difficult to tell which from the blessed papers—some say one, and the others say the other." " Don't mind the papers, Ossie," rejoined Lord Levondale. " Give us your idea as you formed it." Ossie nodded. " Our men had been marching for two days ; short provisions, no tents, no medicine —that's of course. Good Lord! why doesn't someone hang some of the people who are responsible for this state oi things?—and they found the enemy waiting for them in a picked position, and, as I say, a hundred j to one, and armed with good weapons made in—never mind where. "Our men give battle, and are licked, of course. Three parts of them left on the field to be cut about and mutilated in the charming way habitual with those fellows, and the fourth part fighting against overwhelming odds. Just think of it! And think what pluck and stamina a man must have to fight his way through the howling mob—mad with victory, mind you." "And that's what Ravenhurst did?" remarked Lord Levondale. Jess had been sitting like a statue, her teacup in her hand, her eyes fixed on the fire. Lord Desmond's voice coming to her as in a dream. Were they indeed talking of Bruce? " That's what Ravenhurst did," said Ossie, with a sudden thickness in his voice. "No one but an Englishman—beg pardon, Sir Ro- | bert, a Britisher—could have done it, Mind | you, he couldso the papers say—have i drawn back in plenty of time and got into j a position which would have been impreg- ; liable ; at any rate, where he could have j remained until he was reinforced. But : Bruce knew that there were defenceless wo- ! men and children waiting for him, and so he ! cuts his way through and goes on as — j as if nothing had happend." j His voice faltered, and a low murmur of ' sympathy and admiration followed his words. | At that moment Mr. Glave joined the group. "Rather foolhardy, wasn't it?" he said, in bis soft voice, and with his lips twisted slightly. J They all turned to look at him, and Ossie | opened his mouth to retort, but shut it | again tightly. "And what chance is there for Ravenhurst?" asked one of the group in a low voice, and glancing round him. He did not notice Jess sitting there in such death-like stillness. Ossie gulped at his tea, "God knows!" he said, huskilv. "The last telegram says that he is hemmed in and surrounded by thousands. Poor old ; Bruce ! There never was a better, braver—" | A low cry, something between a sob and a moan, rose, and then they swung round to see Jess standing and holding on by a chair her face white to the lips, her eyes distended with horror. "God forgive mo! I didn't see that a lady was here! It's Miss Newton, a friend of Lord Clansmere. Stand back! Water!" said Ossie-, atlnghtedly. But Jess stretched out her hand to him. "Tell me—tell me more!" she panted. No; I shall not faint. Get me—get me the paper. Quick, please ! " and she put her hand to her brow as if to force back the dull weight which crushed upon her brain Ossie rushed into the hall and tore the paper from his overcoat pocket. She took it with shaking- hand's ee!" oint ifc ° Ut t0 lue ' ' eilse - - I camiofc He pointed out the telegram and the brief editonal comment; and, after awhile, she Wis able to read them. ' ,o"7ff ere JV 10 . i,O i )e! " she said in a voice •so different to her usual one that the men round her felt shocked, and looked at each other aghast. "There— there is always hope, Miss Newton! stammered Ossie." She looked at him eagerly, vacant]v, and let the paper fall from her hands, and swayed to and fro. Mr. Glave came up to her with a glass of water, and she was about to take it when she saw who had offered it, and with a faint shudder shrank back. At this moment I'rank horde, who had been watching the group from the other end of the room, came up ami drew her hand within his arm "Come to Lady Marvelle, .Miss Newton," he said; and with a half-conscious dance of gratitude she allowed him to lead her away. At that very hour Bruce lav. wrapped in a cloak, upon the sands in' Africa, with Death hovering over him and all that was left of his gallant, troop—lay, half sleeping, but wholly thinking of the girl who was his wife m name only, and who would in all human probability never be anything more, (To be continued daily.)