A SPLENDID SILENCE.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LI, Issue 15563, 21 March 1914, Page 3 (Supplement)

A SPLENDID SILENCE.

BY ALICE MAUD MEADOWS, Author of "A Million of Money," "The Dukedom of Tort sea," "The House at th« Corner," '• 1 Charge You Both. - ' " One Life Between " Etc. f COPYRIGHT.] CHArTER I "1 MONT her tin- mice to-night, Wilfred. ' , " >'.n t.-r some reixou or other they are all cm' " ' i lone ' " !•'■>•<: >■ min ,?«, k of them-" "Mian:- How do you account for Oh ' 1 suppose someone keeps a hotter partly than I do. but the curious thine, is Mis. Hppplethwaile's cat file, n Alarm.,;:, .uui the dog Snoozer. i.> tr.e chap who resides in the set <; i lumber* under these, have gone also and th ml; 1 , they .ire roaming about r.<«: the -mis- nothing will induce them ;<■ enter :i ■!.-.< k S:;in,e«. 0,.50 m fnend of Wilfred l!.f.cner. ioiiinalt&t and novelist, looked v '" g"''\c You don't, feci uneemforÜb!e about it." he. n^ked. '•I'r.romioruibJe? No'. Why should 1 '.' " Jark Staples hesitated a moment be'ore he answered. "Animals don't leave a iiVito en bloc, so to speak, without a reason, md a very good reason," he answered " Depend upon it something a> going to happen—something unpleaf«t." You aro superstitious." "I admit it So-called superstition is th« fruii of the experience of generations of human beings. In your place, with the warnings you have had—oh, yes, 1 look upon them .is warningsl should get. out of the house as quickly as pos*ible anil take everything of value with me. Now I must he off. So long!" He i aught up his hat and went quickly from the room. Wilfred Davener laughed quietly to himself. "Silly fool!" he said, half aloud; "and vet I don't know. After all, it is strange. There may be something in it; there are more things in heaven and earth than we dream of in our philosophy. Rats leave a sinking ship, sharks follow one on which a death is about to occur. Bah! I am getting as foolish as Jack I will think of th«s matter no more."

As Jack Staples went down the stairs a lady dressed in black ascended them. She was somewhat heavily veiled, so that it was impossible to see what she was like ; but her figure was young, her carriage graceful, and she ascended the wooden stairs as though she knew them well. When she reached the . landing on which Wilfred Davener's rooms were situated she knocked gently, and was admitted -with surprise, enthusiasm, and gladness. "Fausteen, Fausteen. you darling,' Davener said, clasping the sombre-clad figure in his arms, "who would have thought I should have the happiness of seeing you to-day ! I imagined you at Monte Carlo, glued to the tables, and throwing your small patrimony to the dogs. Oh, darling, how glad, how awfully glad. lam to see you. But what on earth is the meaning of this rigout? One moment, sweetheart," as she made a movement to withdraw herself from his embrace. " Let me lift this beast of a veil. I want your lips, my darling, not black' gauze."

He lifted her veil with a little happy laugh, his eyes shining with excitement and pleasure. Then his expression changed, very grave and concerned..

" My darling," he said, and kissed her very gently, " how pale you are 1 Is anything wrong?" She made - a petulant movement. " Nothing. Yes, everything!" she said. "Let me*sit down. I'm tired and upset. Lady Golister is dead." "Dead?" ;*

" Yes. dead, dead, dead ! That's easy enough to understand, isn't it, and I am on my beam ends again, chaff before the wind, a feather on the rough sea of life, an orphan girl without a penny in my pocket. I did not know where to turn, Wilfred, so I came to you." "Of course," he said- " But I do not quite understand. Without a penny in your pocket? " He had her placed on a couch and was piling cushions all round her. Then he knelt before her.

Of course. I do not mean literally without a penny " she said. " Have some sense, Wilfred. But I was so comfortable with Lady Golister. All I bad to do was to wink at all her little weaknesses, her gambling, betting, tippling, hold my tongue when friends and relations asked questions, keep all bores from her, and. unless she gave instructions to the contrary, see that she was not at home in the afternoon to more than one of her pet boys at a time. For these small sen-ices I lived like a fighting cock at the best hotels in the most interesting cities in the world. I travelled like a princess, had the reversion of «11 her beautiful clothes, some not worn. more than once, and three hundred a vcar And now she is dead, and 1 shall 'never have such a gay, giddy time again in my life. Oh, Wilfred, it's heartbreaking '." . , . . , She took her handkerchief and wiped her beautiful eyes (1 . Wilfred's face grew a little stem i am sorry Lady Gelister's dead, he said " I am afraid she was not fit to die. Bui, as vou know, I never approved ■>( vour being"' with her; she was not fit company for a young, beautiful, innocent girl, nor were her associates—frivolous women and fast men every one of them. But I do not understand your being, as vou call it. penniless. I always thought ■hi had told you that in the event «* her death you would find yourself well provided for.' , , , ' Fausteen O'Neil threw off her long black cloak, revealing a dress of «™*£ .loth, a colour that suited well her fair l(j\eliiiC6s. , ~, , •So she had." the girl returned; nut -but towards the lan we-we were not »uch good friends as we had been, Snfi crew jealous of me. It wasn t my fault _! swear it wasn't my fault; but one of her special pet boys began to pay me marked attention, and she was furious, although he was as impecunious as he was beautiful— beautiful. I tried to make him see "reason. I told him he was ruining mv prospects. spoiling my chances, and he. only laughed and said we cinild get married and live happy ever after, whether Lady Golister liked it or not, and he's not one atom better off than you are. But at last he did see reason, and promised to take himself off, only I must meet him in the gardens and say good-bye to him. So to get rid of him — only to get rid of him. dear—l promised. .•Hid I did meet him. and we wandered up among the olive groves, and she tracked u- and spied upon us, and then there was a scene—oh, such a scene! She railed me everything in the world that is bad, and he retaliated, and gave her a Roland for an Oliver. It was awful ' It was the worst thing he could have done. Then she went away suddenly, with all his terrible words ringing in her —stumbling, almost falling— white to the lips, broken-hearted, crushed in body and soul, an old woman to look at. And I was nearly dead with fear and the strain, and I rushed away from Lira hark to the hotel." "Well?" h» said, and his voice was hard. " At twelve o'clock she rang for me," ihe girl went on—" I slept in the next room to hers. She was quite calm, but her face was still set, and tie looked

her agefifty-six—one can scarcely believe it. She said she had sent for me to tell me she should make a new will in fact, she said, she had made it; she only wanted a lawyer to run his eye over it. * I could find one on the morrow, and two witnesses Ho sign it. 1 thought, 1 almost knew, 1 should be one of them, because that would prove to me at once that 1 did not benefit under it—that would be part of my punishment. Then she kissed mc—l thought what a Judas kiss it was—and asked me to make her a cup of coffee. I had all the appliances in my room.'.' She broke off for a minute. There was a rained, troubled look upon her beautiful white face.

"Well?" Wilfred said again. " I took her the coffee." she went on monotonously, "and she kissed me again and smiled at me. ' What's the good of quarrelling?' she said, quite kindly. 'Go to bed, l'austeen. and sleep well, if you can.' I went back to my room. Wilfred, and I drank a cup of coffee myself ; then I went to bed. But I could not sleep, and about one o'clock I heard voices in her room— voice and the voices of two others in the morning, Wilfred, in the morning, when the chambermaid took her her usual cup of tea, she was dead."

"Dead'" Wilfred repeated. He seemed able onlv to use monosyllables.

" Dead." Fausteen said again. " And, Wilfred, she had made and signed a new will. Iu fact, she had made two. One left mo £30,000 and —most of her jewellery ; the other left me a hundred pounds to buy suitable mourning and a pigeon blood ruby ring—it was one I had always admired, though I had always told her it made me shudder; it looked "so like a smear of blood upon her white hand. that is why she left it to me. I suppose. Oh. heavens! what shall I do? What shall I do?"

She flung herself forward, her arms round her lover's neck, her face pressed to his, uplifted, as he knelt before her, and she shook from head to foot.

"Faustwi," Wilfred said, softly, "you must keep calm. You must not excite yourself so. She signed the will, then, that left you one hundred pounds and the ring ?"

"Yes. Oh, it was spiteful— revengeful — make the two wills, and sign last the one that left me a pauper. And she called herself a Christian good Catholic. What a hypocrite!" He lifted her a little and laid her back among the cushions. "Hush!" he said, gently. " Remember the poor creature is d->ad. Bit I do not 'understand what you mean by saying she left you the ring out of revenge, because yon had said it looked like a stain of blood on her white hand. Do you mean"—a look of horror came into his face—" that her death was not natural, and that by the gift of the ring she meant that In robbing her of her lover you had killed her, and had the stain of blood upon you?"

She gazed at him, her eyes dilating with fear, but she looked relieved. " Yes," she said. ' Oh! was it not cruel, horribly revengeful, of her? I was so innocent of any attempt to attract him. I had done my very best to show his attentions were distasteful, and nownow"with a burst of tears" she has ruined me, and made my life a burden and a horror to me for ever.

He rose from his knees and sat beside her. " Yea, it was cruel." he said, slowly. " I think women are generally cruel to one another. But, dearest, she has not ruined you. or made your life a burden for ever. Do not exaggerate. Now let's talk quietly. She signed the will" -which left yon one hundred pounds and the ring?'' --M---"Yes"impatiently"that is *what I have been telling you all the time." "So I partly understood, and at the same time she had executed, but did not sign, the one which left you a fortune." > Fausteen grew perceptibly paler. Her small, exquisitely-gloved hands clasped each other almost cruelly. She caught her breath for a moment.

" She signed both she almost gasped. " Both?"

She pushed him from her. " Yes, both, both, both!" she said almost in a scream. " She signed one and rang her bell for two of the. hotel servants to witness it at ten. That was before she called me, before I got back to the hotel, before I took her the coffee. She signed the second, the one th°t left mc a pauper, at one o'clock, .in hour after midnight.. She was determined, dhbolk-ally determined, the blow should fall as heavily rs it possibly could. Oh. she was'a devil devil!"

"Fausteen," ho said, "you must keep calm. Try and tell me everything quietly. You sav her death was not natural. What was the cause of it?"

Fatisteen lifted her head, and a defiant expression came into her eyes. There will be an inquest." she said, in a bard, unnatural voice. That wijl determine, I suppose, the caise of her death. I know she was in the habit of injecting morphia. I suppose she used 'he needle a little too freely, or— else she was upset and committed suicide."

" She may have had a weak heart?" Fausteen laughed.- "The manager of the hotel was nearly mad," she said. "He was running all over the place wringing his hands. He said a suspicious death in an hotel was enough to ruin it for the season, and all the most rabid gamblers in the Principality were rushing off to the Casino to put their money on the number of her room, 23. on the middle dozen on ' Impair,' and the middle column. Some of them tried to bribe Jeanne, her maid, to let them touch the body, because to touch a suicide's body is so lucky to the gambler. Perhaps because a suicide's body ' in the opinion of most belongs to the devil, and cards and roulette-tables, and all that belong to that sort of thing, are the devil's playthings. And all the time she" She stopped abruptly. " Anyway," she said, " it is very horrible, and I am out of it. but if I live to be a hundred I shall never forgive Bobby Savage." He had hardly beard her last words. He had been thinking deeply. " How was it," he asked, "that you came away?" I She stared at him for a moment, her lips parted, her eyes frightened again. " Whv should I stay?" she said, harshly. "Why," he repeated, "you will be wanted at the inquest, of course. You know more of the cause which led up to her death probably than anyone. I am surprised you were not warned that you must not go away." " Must not? Who could have stepped me?" He looked what he surprised. "Why, Fausteen," he said, "of course you would have stayed if you had thought twice. Now you must go back, and as quickly as possible. We will go by the express tonight." " We?" " Certainly. I will take vou back. I will stop with you until the inquest is over ; then we will come back; and since you are, as you put it, 'on your beam ends,' we will get married at once." She ignored the last part of his sentence. Her month had set obstinately, but

her eyes wire filled with terror. " I will not go back!" she said. "I will not! I have had enough. I cinnot; I will not bear any more. It is cruel of you to want rae to bear anything so ir.human. What do you think I am mads of? Stone? I won't go! I won't He drew her gloves from her hands and held h'-r slim fingers very tenderly in his. " I am not without feeling," he said; " but more than ever now, Fausteen, I say you must return to Monte Carlo—that we rrust go at one; Now, for the moment, we will drop the subject.' You are tired out; yoi must have some refreshment. Let me take off your hat now, sweetheart. Lie buck comfortably among the cushions while I run downstairs and send Mrs. Hepplethwaite for victuals and drink. I wen t be a minj'e."

He crossed the room, opened the door, arid sped down the stairs, taking three at a time in his eagerness to get back to the lady of his heart. Fausteen listened until the hurried bumpi of his footsteps had died away ; then she rose from the sofa, crossed to the fireplace, and looked at herself in the mirror of the overmantel. " If I go 'rack," she said, aloud, " I may Be accused of murder, and, heaven knows, I never —" She broke off and shivered. A cold perspiration broke out on her forehead. Het* face was absolutely colourless : her dark eyes seemed to blaze with a id den fire; her lips had a faint purple tinge; her breath came hurriedly from between them. She was beautiful to look at.. At the same time the terror of her expression made

her look for the time being double her j age. ! " I am foolish to be so frightened,"' she said, half aloud. "Everyone knew she .was addicted to the drug habit, and it's nothing out of the common for two women— two beautiful women—to quarrel over a man, though, heaven knows, 1 did not want him or his calf love. I always despised boys; hated them as lovers. I was a fool to run away. Wilfred is right. I must get back. I must go back at once." She returned to the sofa and settled herself among the cushions as before. She heard steps on the stairs Wilfred was coming back. A little smile crossed her face. "He has sent out for port wine and sandwiches," she said to herself. "Wilfred's one idea of refreshment for a woman —" She paused suddenly. The footsteps had stopped at the door, and somebody was knocking. For a minute she held her breath—she did not want to be found in Wilfred's chambers. The footsteps had been the footsteps of a man, and men had a way of misconstruing such situations. She picked up her skills, walked noiselessly across the room, entered Wilfred's sleeping apartment, and gently pushed the door to. The knocking at the door was repeated. Then the handle was turned, and someone entered.

"Not here," a deep voice said. "Jack Mid he was at home—perhaps he is in his bedroom. I say, Wilfred', are you dead? " He began to cross the room. The situation for Fausteeu was getting worse and worse. Why had she run from one room to the other It would not have mattered a bit if she had stayed where she was. Why did she do such stupid things? Thi» was the second time she had not faced a crisis. Should she dive under the bed? She almost laughed hysterically. He, whoever he was, would not look for Wilfred there. But at that moment she really heard Wrllred running up the stairs— eager, of course, to rejoin her. She might have known those other slow footsteps were not" his. The intruder paused —she could hear that. He turned, and then Wilfred hurried into the room.

"Excuse me, deal —" he began, and then paused. "Oh, you. Jones!" he said. "Have you been here long? " " Half a minute." was the reply. " Jack told me you were in. I say, have you seen the evening papers * "No," Wilfred's voice returned. "Anything particular in them? If go, hurry up and tell me. I'm awfully sorry, but I can't ask you to stop—l'm in a hurry." "Going out?" the other asked. " Yes, as soon as I've changed." " All right, 111 come anl tell you my sews while you dress. I—" His eyes fell on Fausteen's black hat, veil, and cloak; at the same time his sharp ears fancied they detected a slight sound from the other room. Wilfred had glanced round for the minute, and did not notice his friend's hesitation.

" No, I remember," he said, carelessly, a smile on his lips, a twinkle in his eye. " I've an appointment in a quarter of an hour at—Westminster. I'd clean forgot it. I must get off. I only ran in to tell you that Lady Golister is dead. You knew —did you not ? " " Yes," Wilfred answered, impatiently ; "and I knew she was dead, poor soul!" "You knew!"—in surprise. But it's only in the last edition ! " Wilfred lied like a gamester. "1 know," he answered. " I got the information at the fountain head, in Fleet Street, long before it was in the paper." "Did you? Oh, well, then, that accounts for it. Of course, you know that Lady Golister did not die a'natural death, and that Miss Fausteen O'Xeilrather a pal of yours, wasn't she?— friend and companion, has done a bolt. They seem to hint at a quarrel between them. But then women are always quarrelling. Still, to bolt looks rather strange, does it not? I wonder where she has gone ? " "And I wonder, Wilfred said. "If you don't hurry up, old chap, you'll miss your- appointment.

CHAPTER H. Wilfred listened until the sounds of his friend's footsteps had died away; then he called', softly, " Fausteen ! Fausteen!" She came to him at once, pale, with frightened eyes. " Did he see my hat and cloak?" she asked, hurriedly,' Wilfred turned and looked towards the couch. "Oh! by jove!" he said, "I never gave them a thought; but I don't suppose he did. He is not observant, and he never said anything." " Never said anything! " she repeated, scornfully. " Just &a though he would ! I wonder whether he guessed the hat belonged to me? '' "Of course not, dearest, even if he saw them—which I do not believe. You see, sweetheart, though he said you were rather a friend of mine"

" Pal! " interrupting. Pal, then. No one, I am sure, has ever guessed how much we are to one another. But, my dearest, you heard what he said, and you must understand how important, how vital, it is that you should return to Monte Carlo at once."

She nodded her head thoughtfully. " Yes," she answered, " I suppose I must go back. I was a fool to run* away. I have nothing to be frightened at." ■' Nothing whatever, of course, only you perhaps know more of Lady Golister's habits than anyone else: Let me see, the express leaves Holborn Viaduct at nine o'clock. That will give us plenty of time for refreshment and a nice cosy chat here."

She beat down a strong desire for a good dinner. Her horror and fear at Lady Golister's sudden and probably unnatural death bad taken away all wish for food for a lime, but it had returned now.

"It will be so nice to have a cosy chat," she said. "It seems an age, Wilfred, since I last saw" you." He bad his right arm round her and pulled her suddenly, almost roughly, nearer, much nearer, to him. He could feel the beat of her heart.

"It is an age," he said. "I began to think, Fausteen," that you were never coming back to me. And yet, sweetest, you are a homing bird, and this "crushing her still closer—"and this is home, isn't it ? "

He had his other arm round her now. She was folded quite in his embrace. His heavy moustache brushed her ciicek "This?" she repeated, looking first straight into his eyes, then with a quizzical smile round the room.

" This," he said again ; " leaning on my heart, dearest, with my arms round you. That would make any place home to you, would it not, Fausteen ? "

She looked irreso'ute. Her eyes did not meet bis now. " You must not be foolish," she said. " You must not take things for granted because I have come to you in my extremity, my darkest hour. You must remember that we are both church mice living on the crumbs that fall from the rich man's table." (Fausteen's metaphor was a little mixed.) " We must remember that the best of life which is love, dearest—love fully and frankly confessed before the whole world, is not for us. We can love one another fully, devotedly, faithfully, from the very bottom of our hearts in secret with ardent devotion. We can have many such beautiful moments as this, moments more wonderful and beautiful because I am in trouble now, and have not words to say half what I mean. But we must realise that for us love's cup can never' be drained to its sweetest drop." He put her a little from him and looked deeply into her very beautiful but rather insincere eyes. "Why not, darling?" he asked. "Look here. Fausteen, it is quite time you and 1 got married. It is right that we should get married, that we should not go on philandering in this irregular way for ever. You say we are church mice, but it is not, quite so bad as that. I have, five hundred a year of my own which I should settle on you. of course, and our dear children, please heaven, after us, darling. And already I make five or six hundred a year by my pen. If I once write a really successful novel I may make as many thousands. We really could live quite comfortably in a quiet way. Why, I don't spend more than two or three hundred a year on myself. Fausteen, when we return from Monte Carlo, will you marry me at once? "

She shook her head. "Dearest, no." she answered. " For your sake, no, not for mine. I would not mind poverty, but I would not drag you with it. I love you far too much." (To be continued on Wednesday next.)