THE WHITE GAUNTLET.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLIX, Issue 15131, 23 October 1912, Page 11

THE WHITE GAUNTLET.

BY PERCY JAMES BREBNER, Author of The Brown Mask," "A Royal Ward," ."A Gentleman of Virginia," " Princess Maritza," etc, eto.

PUBLISHED BT SPECIAL ARBA'NGEMEKT*

COPTBIGHT.

SYNOPSIS. Sir Anthony Seymour, of Lainswood, the young head of an old, but not over-affluent, Hampsmrv familv, was riding early in the morning after a late night's gambling with Sir Charles Hwtson. His mind was .troubled by the thought that the game had not /been honestly played, but that &ij Charles had cheated him, his. losses having been considerable. Suddenly he observed four men preparing to ambush .an .approaching carnage, and by -a ruse he c waa able to drive them; on. The carriage contained an elderly lady, who loftilv thanked Sir Anthony for his intervention, but declined bin offer of hospitality. She re : ferred to push on, not, however, until she naa given him an address in London where he wouitt be able to hear news of her. After her departure Sir Anthony picked up a miniature of - a vary beautiful young girl. , Sir Anthony relates the incident to Sir Charles Hewitson, and tne latter's expression suggests that ho knew something about tho matter, and ' regarded Seymour as a meddler. Seymour refuses to continue .o gamble with Hewitson. , Seymour proceeds to London, and calls at the address given him uy the lady. . He finds there one Thomas Fergusson, who takes him to an audience with the great Ducheas of Sfailborouffh. Seymour restores the miniature to the Duchess, and is invited to ncr evening reception. The Duchess has- summed him. up as possibly useful to her, and judges that it would not be difficult to hold him as a friend. s, . :

CHAPTER IV.—(Continued.) ;> So. Seymour found himself very graciously received that evening, and .if -j.the Duchess scrutinised his figure and his dress a little sharply, she seeing'' l satis-; fled with his appearance and nodded her approval at him. , ' ", "" "I shall help you to make friends presently," she took occasion to whisper; " and for the reward you claimed I will take an early opportunity to satisfy that too." A few persons, ever watchful of the Duchess and those to- whom she showed favour, looked at Seymour with some interest, and were ready to note with whom he entered into conversation. The society of St. James's was a veritable network of intrigue; to be unobservant in the smallest particular was, perchance, to miss a great opportunity for self-advancement. Everybody watched everyone else, and there was hardly a man or woman there who did not assume a studied pose, knowing that every action was observed. Seymour was one of the few : exceptions; he had nothing to hide, and at present had no secret to find out. Fergusson's suggestion concerning the Duchess had made little impression on him beyond convincing hlju that Fergusson was a poor creature who might be useful but was not to be trusted. \ Although Seymour 'was far removed! from the general conception .of a country gentleman, whose cjodhopping manners; made him the laughing-stock <of the ' town,, he' was nevertheless a comparative stranger to London. He knew the town, had visited it several times .while his -father was alive, and had been brought in contact with men of the world at Lainswood; but the money required for gambling had left little over for ..anything, else, and town, was the worst - place in the. world in wh v j to be poor.-Of, the beauties who played i havoc with men's hearts he knew nothing, and ; knew the men who were making his-: tory -only, by the scanty reports ; which slowly found their way into Hampshire. So to-night he was in a crowd of strangers, bis very loneliness attracting some attention. No,.„doubt the Duchess would make good-her promise presently, but for the ( time ..being the constant .arrival of new guests, occupied her. : Seymour; was a spec-r tator merely, and it .was only t by. the conversation of-those about him that he was able to. identify some "of. the important persons .-*'■■ present. -. .. That ■■;... was;. my ~- Lord Godolphin v in the \ doorway , yonder, 5 who. had, retained his power.;b^.discarding Tory-; ism's easily as : he gave away an ' oldcoat. That was Sorners, President of the Council, beside; him a mild and sagacious man who; had possibly deeper principles than he Was allowed to exhibit. The lady who was the centre of .that group in the corner was Lady ' Sophia Eadcliffe, only chi.ld % of the Earl of Hambledon, and" ah ardent Jacobite, ife-was said ; the man who followed her, much like a lap-dog, was Mr.Wharton, whose only claim to distinction was' that, in her own good time, .. Lady Sophia intended to marry him. The lady opposite t was, Mrs. . Masham, ; and - Seymour; noted how many people glanced from her to the Duchess. Their relationship' gave: them little in common so far as appearance wont, and it was no secret that they •had learnt to hate each other most cordially. Some who for long past had paid court to the Duchess were beginning to be assiduous' in their attentions,to' her cousin, who ' might presently prove the more powerful friend. Of these was, the man she was talking to at the moment, Robert Harley, on whose character opinions differed;; some calling him' a time-server, others predicting great things for him. He was ; possibly cunning enough to hide his true character from his best friends. That was Mr. St. John just behind them — another difficult man to place, but whose eloquence was bound to carry him to distinction. That was Sir Charles He'witsbn with him, who lived no, one knew . how, except that -he was strangely; fortunate at cards and 'dice.,. ' ..-[ ! "Also most -skilful with the small ! sword," remarked a man close to Seymour. "Another fortunate accomplishment," ; was the answer, "or Sir Charles. might find Ins methods called in question. For my part, I have ceased to play with him/ They had moved away before Seymour had time to fit their conversation to the doubts which had recently arisen in his own mind. The remarks were probably malicious,! as many others which he had overheard seemed to be. Sir Charles had not looked his way. He appeared to have many friends, and passed from group to group as a man sure of his welcome, which was strange if his character were so well known.

Listening to these scraps of conversation was amusing, but Seymour had begun to tire of being alone, and had moved to join Sir Charles, the only man he knew in -the company, when a stir near the Duchess y and the sudden turning of many heads'caused him to pause. There had entered a young girl, so beautiful, bo graceful, so exquisitely gowned that in a moment every other woman present seemed insignificant beside her. As she rose- from making her curtsey to the Duchess she turned and looked at the scene before her with the most glorious blue eyes that had ever held in their depths the secrets of a maiden's heart. Her skin was as daintily tinted as fine porcelain, a smile played about her slightly parted lips which .we're shaped more perfectly than any iJely ever had the good fortune to. paint, and the colour in her cheeks was Nature's handiwork alone. Her pose, graceful and unstudied, had a suspicion of pride and command in it;character' and purpose were in the firmly moulded chin and strength in the little hands. There was a personal note in her dress, indefinable yet insistent, an- effect which others might copy but fail to achieve, and her whole attitude had just that sufficiency of self-consciousness which served to lend an added charm t<? every grace and gives to a beautiful woman a :power which is irresistible, whether it be used for good or for evil. "The Duchess's protegee," v Seymour heard someone say. " She is more beautiful than ever, said another. " Cold as an iceberg, was the answer. "May be. Can one expect &ery good gift in a single person? As she stands at this moment, she is perfect, and I warrant no Court has ever boasted a more beautiful woman than Diane de Mornoy." Seymour heard the name, and repeated it to'himself in a kind of. ecstasy. He had had little to do with women ; it had happened bo to his regret, and had brought li sense of loss at times. Ho was levelheaded enough to realise that his inexperience might lead him to consider some woman peerless who, as • a fact, was not so perfect as others. In this case the men ; who had spoken had confirmed his own ! impression, and, if further proof Were' wanting, it was 'found in the fact that so many had turned to look at her. Nor i was- thin all. She was the original of the j

miniature he had picl&d iup on the Winchester Road. It was a poor arid unworthy picture^; but how could painter ever hope to do justice to.such a model? Diane de Mornay. She was nob English, then. Many persona were soon pressing towards her. She was holding a little court of her own, and was a very gracious queen of it. Her worshippers—surely they must all be that—spoke with her for a few moments, and then perforce _ made way for others; but one man remained near her tall, dark, singularly handsome, lithe of limb, arid with a face full of keen intelligence. He seemed to have a right to remain'beside her which no one disputed, and Seymour was jealous and envious. Yet, by her Grace's favour, he might presently be bending over that little hand, might hear her voice speaking to him, might be with her for a few precious moments, and forget the world held any besides. The very contemplation fired his blood. He would at once learn more about her. He had seen Sir Charles Hewitson turn to look at her when she entered/ had noted the admiration in his face, and that he was among tho first to move in her direction. He would be able to answer his questions. Ho would find him at once.

"I- think I am speaking to Sir Anthony Seymour?" • Others besides Seymour turned to look at the speaker. The voice had a tone like a caress in it, once heard unlikely to be forgotten, and the rnan was so handsome, so easy and graceful in his attitude, that one was inclined to overlook the immense force of character which lay behind his outward attractions. As a courtier he was irresistible ; as a man, his enemies were legion. Seymour knew him at once for the greatest soldier England had. ever, produced—the hero of Blenheim and Ramillies, the famous-Duke of Marlborough. • '<!have'to thank.you, Sir Anthony, for coming so promptly to the rescue of the Duchess lately." "I have already been most handsomely thanked, your Grace." 7 , V"By her," not by me," the Duke answered, with ; a smile. "Such an act to her bids me ' reckon you amongst my friends—more,; indeed, , makes me your debtor: 1 The Duchess has told me"—and then he paused, arid with a gesture _ suggested they should pass into an adjoining room which was less crowded. The Duchess has told me that you are ambitious, and, truly, life in the country, however pleasant, is not for. such men as you. •There is sterner work tor a gentleman than watching crops ripen and keeping a pack of beagles." , , „_, "My poverty forbids the beagles, Seymour answered, " and there is small source of profit in my estate." ' " A man, if he have the will, may easily alter his condition," Marlborough returned. " He has but to set up for himself some high goal, and then strive every hour of his life to win to it. He may fail, but it will be a glorious failure, which I hold to be far better than an easy success. ' f " I have been waiting my opportunity, Seymour said. "It seemed to me I had found it when her Grace spoke to me about coming to town." ." It' was a promise to help, Sir Anthony, and for her sake, and my own, I would take my part in that promise. Do not mark me as a man of one-idea when I eay there is one calling above all others—that of a soldier.'.' - , '" I wish for nothing better, but— \ " Never consider the obstacles," said the Duke; "they are only put in a man's way to be overcome. That would be a poor career which had no obstacle in it to triumph over, a career not worth the following. -You may make a man a soldier,; i but'you will not succeed in making him: a great soldier, I grant; such is only born, f Tfhirik. On the Danube and in Flanders I have had proof 'of ; -this.- '' You showed resource that "morning, on the Winchester Road—a small, matter, but it tells me something of your character." ■": ".I shall hope never to give you cause to think less of me than you do now." j '" "I have full .confidence)" answered the ; Duke. '"We must make a, soldier, Sir Anthony. Good ; moil- are wanted in Flanders, and I have need: of friends who may. be trusted to the death. Such are not easily found. > You know that I embark almost immediately for the Continent?" >.'',' I have Heard so, your Grace: '•'. . ' ■ "I thought the .war at an end, but it is hard to break the pride of Louis of, France. I am full of business consequent upon my departure, but I shall find time to take steps to bind you to. my service, which is the country's, service, ■ and should certainly lead you to better fortunes, or a death facEngland's enemies— end which, I trust, may be my own." "I have no words to thank your Grace. "I'eet no great store on words. I have: found some of my worst enemies the most ready * with honeyed words. One thing more,. Sir Anthony ; my service means also the service of the Duchess: We are one in thought and ambition. I swear to you I suffer agony each time duty calls me from: hor, and watch the receding cliffs in a sort of mad hope that one more glimpse of her may be vouchsafed me. lam already treating you as a friend by saying'so much and showing■ .you my weakness. Gome to me to-morrow .-it noon. It. may be that you will' have little leisure to enjoy the pleasures of the town, for events are moving rapidly in Flanders. I should have been amongst my soldiers before this had I not so many enemies to contend with at

home. . , It was not possible for the Duke of Marlborough to pass unnoticed, and the definite manner in which he had led aside this stranger was observed and eagerly commented upon. As Seymour left, the Duke 'many glanced at him, some a little "enviously, others rather maliciously. "That is Sir Anthony Seymour,' said Mrs. Masham in a low tone to~Harley. " You will.do well to. note hun. He may be dangerous." . • "\ "He seems somewhat fnendlees at present," returned Harley. / 5 "The Duchess has been cracious to him, and, by the "smile upon his face, I dare swear the. Duke has flattered him. I hey will use liim. The fact that he is unknown may add to his value. He must be watched." , , , " Sir Charles Hewiteon has already snoken of him." . *" Do you know that it was this Sir Anthonv Seymour who rescued the Duchess on the Winchester Road?" said Mrs. Masham. , „ " That news also I had from Sir Charies. " He robbed us of an opportunity we are not likely to get again, and Sir Charles must have been a fool to choose such men for the work. He seems full of news, but does not act much. Do you trust him? "Faith, madam, no. Have you ever known mo witless enough to trust any man, or woman cither, except yourself. Hewitson's career is like that of ft man walking a tight-rone, and. though his agility equals that of Jacob HaLL I hold one end of the -rope, and can let him down when I please. His interests lie entirely with us." " For my part, I have small faith in him," Mrs. Masham answered. " Hush, my dear madam, not so loud," whispered Harley. " Sir Uiarles has more acquaintances than any man I know, hence his usefulness. I think we may safely leave it to him to clip any wings this young Seymour may chance to possess." (To be continued daily.)