MARCUS QUAYLE, M.D.
there is no more to bet said between ua, Lady Lindislea, you have entered my house for the last time. I wish to see'you no more." ■' "Marcus! Yon are killing me." " Believe me, no. Your sort do not die. They live to work fresh mischief. I trusted you once. You have betrayed my trust.", "Marcus, listen. I did it all for love. I love you Marcus. [ Have you nob known it? I love you, love, you, love you. And ,that puling, white-faced girl sought to thrust herself between us. Marcus, I could have torn her limb from limb." The severity in his face deepened to a strong repulsion. He stretched out a hand and sharply" pulled a bell. ,: " Bolton, show Lady Lindislea to her carriage." a He stood tall and uncompromising npon his hearth, brows bent, and an ominous light shining in his eyes. He put forth no hand as Beatrice rose and faced him for a moment, arid he seemed to look rather through than at her. " I hope yon will never find her, Marcus Quayle,' she said in a low quivering voice. And the faintest flicker of a smile seemed to quiver in his eyes and flick her contemptuously. i She passed out from his house into the darkness with proud step and a storm in her heart. Only when she reached the shelter of her room in the hotel did she realise that, though she bad given herself away to' Marcus, she had learned no single fact from him. What he had spoken might be' nothing save tho purest inference. He had baffled her by turning the war into tho enemy's quarters.-—And now—
"That is my name. I came here to ask speech of Miss Vanecourt. I believe that she lives here in the capacity of com* panion to the owner of tie house." )\ ".She does live here-Tin what capacity it is immaterial for us to discuss. I am her brother, and she has asked mo to see you and to ask you what your business ib." :. ■--. ■ .. " I should prefer to tell that to herself." . "Bha wonfd prefer that you should toll it to m£ Will you please to. be seated while we talk? " Hilary, perfectly imperturbable, took one armchair, leaning back and extending his long legs. His face wore an expression of bland suavity equal to anything of which Marmol'a countenance was capable. The man felt as a duellist might be confronted by an adversary who waa a greater adept at the use of his favourite weapon than he himself. Marmol perforce sat bim down in the other, his eyes glooming over yet vindictively alert. " I think that I can assist you to break pound, Mr. Marmol. We have all of us heard of the regrettable disappeaance of Miss Lorraine Dumareaq from your care.' Allow mo to express my commiseration of A jhi» highly unfortunate circumstance. I can imagine no greater distress^ —or even embarrassment—for a guardian than that his ward should depart from his house and surveillance under such peculiar and distressing circumstances." Adrian glared. He was suddenly made aware of the necessity of walking warily with this man. And before he had made up his mind to speak or-4n any way to show his hand, Hilary had taken up the word again. " I can, perhaps, in measure, answer my own question. It seems that you are here to inquire whether Miss Dumaresq has been seen at this house. I think that my sister's servants have informed you that she I has not." " Your sister's servants? Have I the honour of addressing the master of this house? You must remember you have the advantage of me." "I am not the master oi the house, but I am the brother of its mistress. Sly name is Hilary Vanecourt." Marmol knew that name. And ho knew that he was face to face with a rising barrister, ..whose acumen and astuteness and power of cross-examination were exciting comment in the legal world. This was one of the men who would " arrive." Instantly he felt that he wouid be well to walk warily. "I have been labouring under a mis* tnke," he said. " My acquaintance with Miss Vanecourt is of the slightest. She has shown a kind of interest in my ward and sister-in-law. and I understood that though she lived here at Darkmere, it was in some other capacity than that of Lady of the Manor, I apologise for my mistake." " No blame attaches to you, sir. Several other persons were under the same misapprehension. The fact, however, remains. This is my sister's house and Miss Dumaresq is her friend. She also is suffering no small anxiety on her account." " Miss Vanecourt has had no letter from Lorraine? " " No. Of that I can assure you. We have read nothing whatever except what the popera say. Have "jou found no trace?" " Not one. And the moor has been searched from end to end. Every cottage has been visited. The people round knew her and the dog perfectly. All would have given her shelter; but shelter was never asked." " Very curious," spoke Hilary, joining his finger tips together, hia. elbows npon the arms of his chair. "What in the world could have made a fragile and delicate girl; as Miss Dumaresq is said to be, to take herself off in such a mysterious fashion, leaving no trace behind? " Marmol rose to his feet; be felt Hilary's cool, searching glance upon his face, and he had no desire to bandy words with him longer. " My, ward was not fragile and delicate after Tier sojourn upon the moor. Dr. Quayle can bear testimony to that. He prescribed fresh air and the simple life for her. I followed his counsel—and with the best results. Lorraine was equal to long tramps over the moor and wag often out from morning till evening—almoflfi longer hours than X approved. A wilful girl in the pink erf health will occasionally take the bit between her teeth." " Quito so, very true, hut generally the lack of the sinews of war drives her back to her friends after her little spurt ] of independence. Well, Mr. Marmol, I will giwe yon my word that if Lorraine should write to my sister, she will communicate with you. Meantime wo shall watch developments with the very greatest interest/* "I am not sure that I take your meaning,' sir? '*'--. °* No. Well I have heard the rumour that Dumaresq wasi— is. let me say—a great heiress, and that in the eventuality of her death aa a minor her sister, Mrs. Marmol, inherits all Naturally this fact must' be a very painful one for you. The world is a censorious place, and is prone to place it sown construction upon even those circumstances over which we have no controL. Must you be going? Sorry I can give yon.no information. Have theyr 3 dragged that little tarn up above your house? All the country folk are saying that the poor young lady might very likely have lost her footing and been drowned thwe-" Marmol'fi face was greenish-grey m colour. " There is no dragging that tarn possible. Its depth has never been plumbed." "That is bad. Yet sometimes water will give up after a time. Is 1 there not a story of some helpless lady who was drowned there? Or was it that ' Bhe Was done to death in fcome way first, 1 and her body thrown in afterwards. These gruesome moorland tales sometimes • grow by reputation. But truth can often be gruesome also." 1 Marmol had no desire to stay longer in ■ this house, Or beneath the quietly scrutin- ' ising eyes of Hilary Vanecourt. Lorraine ' was not here. So, at least, he believed- ' But this man of the law had probed | deeper into the facta of posi- ; tion than he was propared for. I He began to think that the girl was ' dead —out of his path—that soon he I would be able to put forward hia wife's • claim upon her estate. In that thought > was compensation, gladness, triumph. But the victory of circumstances was not • yet aasured. And it would be an ugly J thing for him if the world at large saw • the matter from the standpoint _of this 5 quiet-voiced man, who offered him cony dolences with a look that pierced the ? armour of his self esteem, and left him \ feeling weak and emasculated. f Hilary accompanied him to the door. On its steps Marmol turned back to «ay: c "I hear that Dr. Quayle is sometimes 5 in this locality. Is he likely to be here r again sliortly?" p <(X thihk it probable. Do you wish to J see' him?" 1 "I do- I think that it would be well • for him to give bis independent testi- • monv. if he were willing, as to the bene- " fit my ward had received from her sojourn upon the moor. It Would be a B monstrous thing if the suspicion at which j you, sir, have hinted, were to be circulated. It would cause my wife the ut>- • most distress, and be exceedingly painful ' to me!'* ( ; " Exceedingly 1" spoke Hilary, with A ® gentle smoothness. " We came here for the sake of the e girl, who waa then sorauwhat fragile and n delicate, and it was a great sacrifice for ° my wife to make, as she much prefers gay holiday resorts. But nothing was con- '*' sidered save that which was thought needful for Lorraine. Dr. Quayle's name carries weight with the world, and he | wait greatly pleased by her increased I health and vitality when he stayed with ' ua for a short time. I think that he would be ready to state this," e "I am sure that Dr. Quayle will state „ anything, which he knowis to be truejj Most probably he will be here in the 5 _ j course of ten days or a fortnight. We e I will hope that before then the mystery i, will have been happily cleared up. If d not, I am sure you may rely upon him n ; to speak accurately as to what he has it j seen himself. Would, you like for the a meeting to take place here?" j "If Dr. Quayle is here, I will do my- ,! self the honour to call upon him—with , Miss Vanecourt's permission." se " Then I will write later and make \. the appointment," said Hilary, is Adrian Marmol walked in a strange frame of mind. Hilary went directly to Dinah and said: « <
"He's gone for the moment, his nose off the trail and out of joint. But the sooner Marcus can get himself married to the ward, the better it will be." CHAPTER XLVI. "Adrian, I„believe that they have fooled you- I believe that they know all the time where she is t" "Beatrice, why?" Lady Lindislea was storming up and down the room. She looked like some §reat artist's personification of one of hakespearo's dark-browed, haughty, imperious heroines, filled with dire thoughts and misgivings. " Why—why—why? Oh, you men, you men 1 Women cannot always give the why and wherefore, but they are guided to conclusions by their instincts. Adrian, if Lorraine has not fled to Darkmere Manor, then she has fled to Marcus Quayle!" "Impossible, Beatrice. She had no money! She would have been seen. She would havo been traced. No, she ia ly- , ing at the bottom of that tarn—ana her dog beside her! Perhaps in some ten days' time we shall see something floating beneath the surface." "You horrible creature!" spoke Lady Lindislea, shuddering, "yon can stop on here till that ghastly thing happens. I am going straight to London. I am going to see Marcus Quayle V He looked at her steadily, his eyes full of sinister meanings. f* You think the girl has gone to him?" " She would if she could- She was mad for love of him! But she might just overreach herself! Marcus is chivalrous and gentle to women, though _ho can speak words which cut like a knife. But
Bl' 3Y 13. EVERETT-GREEN. jl-tw of " l'b» Master of Marshlands." e'ic.'
00PY31GHT. CHAPTER XLlV.—(Coctinmed.) - Conld he take hor away from us if lie ' fntrnd |||, a grim look 111,011 Marcys i , ! - Jjngylo'S iS-CO» • had better ccire and try!' 1 ff I - Marcus, let us har e Hilary hero. He fplliit: Paris. A wire would get him here m Z Utnnty-i&ur hours. Ho is a man of tho 1 ML? He might be useful- And I want I W- at Dajkmere. Ho haa got to kflotf a ]l about it now." i Good thought! Have him over. Til and send off the -wire for yon. BPffl &ka Bogey. He wants a run. 80, Dinah, there is to be the end of tho Mrs. g| y i e fiction. You have como into your WWteom." fe' ■""« All! I clo notinow—l do not know kingdom is a very big realm. Pit: Sometmes I fear that I shall never truly Renter upon iE." I-'F-Vshe spoke more to herself than to him, Bjpfefrr Jj 8 scarcely heard her last words. &Wmei when she was left alone, she stood HEMta out upon the sunny, autumnal 4orid V ndM ' n S things in hor hcart - Ser kingdom 1 Her woman's kingdom ! J s> - roiwt did that moan? Was ever kingdom 4 ST* a king? Sho could fill with interests. Sh* could achieve mdß tnd objects vory Dear and dear; she &: woold- have a full, a beautiful, perhaps a M -ather splendid life. But would there ai53 cmptv throne in her heart, Sfv.iJjine without its image, a secret chaiu- §§>•' her where lonliness ruled, yet which lil /ieemed to cry aloud for its inmate? could ask ibes* questions, but Ae could find no answer. And those were tesv and soinowhat anxious days for ner. M iJcaitw needed much of her Eme *no 1 care Lady Lucinda was with her at niu-imere so that Marcus could come and m. JKTSII. Also the little lame lady v i : "Wed dearly a romance, and a kindly task for any sufftiring creature, and liorrame ft ' iw to her in a sweat, pathetic fashion f SSh- endeared her to all those who m ßut°every° now of the day Dinah half —period to hear that Adrian ilarmol was :yH: Xi 2 speech of her- Surely, when search became wstematio, he would learn the proximity of Darkmere, and his suspicions M woul3 be aroused. And Marcus had to leave He would reluin as quickly a& * possiblK But he had duties to certain iiF patients to perform, and he would have to and fro. If Marmol should arrive during his abWell, Hilary at least would be ' {jeje. There was something reassuring in that thought. HUary would be equal to ' • the situation, she thcugnt. And upon the /t 'Sav of his arrival she drove herself to Biro, and met the searching, half- * ' (raisnoal glance of the blue eyes beneath a smile which seemed to s|' cry "Peccavi." . ' . * Hilary, yon saw Marcus m town I •' •. ':fs£f Yes, just for seme twenty minute® *i»." „ r:"And he told yon. I&'ir Yea, by your wish, he !»id. Shall I |M;l'«ngiatolatiß your highness?" ijy. " Hilary, it is rather nice: to be rich, for ioime things* Bat the old life was # very happy. Did yon understand why 1 did not tell you at once?" "I think so. Yon were right about Ken. He need not know, fill he baa 'found his feet. 1 think I know now why Marshall and Sioddard have been sending me briefs.*' , , „ ij "They wouldn't have repeated tfi© experiment if you nadn't been a suossaa. Hilary, yco, aad Roger, wflu have a country home now as weJl as a lown one. And I shall come often and manage* you P all, and interfere. Don't think you have got rid of me" "I want to we joo reigning at Darkmenu Marcus nays it is an eoffying speo lacle- I)inah, J half sxnalfc a rat aH tho • .thought you did. And, oh! Hilary, ; I'm glad to have yon here. For 1 feel as &mgh I was going to want yon badly, Jffl when the carriage drew up at the ' fell door, and ahe heard the words which her, she gripped his hand and. • '-f'&rshr and fast. ; "fl you please, Ma'am, Mr. Marmol i« waiting to speak to you on imfortant business. *" , . amm & CHAPTER XLV. & Adrian lisxmol waited for the mistress i ; 'of [Darkmere in a small room into which She ahown fc after stating that ,he •&'£ Bad Business with Mfes Vanecourt, and iroald awiiit her return. II- 4'Cc '■ Die man's face was a Kttle drawn and ||{W '"a litde haggard In his strange, c«»-iike I , «y». curious gleaEiS played as he stood | jjp I; gating forth out of the window. He > locked libs a person labouring under the j /]•>, ■ retain of some ecci'temont or anxiety. I And !fiis m truth he was. For ever wr- I \ jnajtaS hy the ceasei'sse iteration of the j question: u Where was Lorraine? TfTEere was the dog he iiad meant to shoot so wqq as a man oould be summoned who 'v ®ild be Ousted not to bungle the busi«e»r Diis man ought iio have been at Spettlaoos Grange upon the day of the storm, Mii had failed to come. Nevertheless Bngey "E»d "been ou&wittod and securely S'lv chained up (as they sapposed) where his vtaw oould not reach the house. The rest ef the plan i ( aouJd'" be carried out, \,7 and the dog dealt with afterwarda. But «« dog had in turn oetwitt-sd them. In lli way tliis had play<d Adrian's hands. It had enabled hin to ascribe a reaion»Me motive for the girl's disappearance. Bat the fact filled him. nevertbeles», with »& acnte anxiety of, uncertainty. ..Of course, if Lorraine had fallen into V: waters of the tarn, and the dog had plunged after her to lnw rescue, and -vainly wight to save her, they ought both have • perished together. Bogey's tenacity of rsy Parpose was equal to nis strength and nuelity. If he cculd not drag Lorraine ' t'. of the water ii was quite conceivable * P h° would be dragged under with her, v n P n 9. wen ' E the death agony, to lose upon her clothing. Bat there was no evidence as to this. ■ t '- ■jae .sbaly sides of the lake held no trace £* slip or struggle. They never would. £ v , Diero waa constant sliding down of slag nd jMibble and shale. The storm might : caused much to slip and slide. The alonn had scattered and torn and whirled about the moor, rendering the tracking of W-: b footsteps impossible. -Bat- if not sleeping beneath the dark w^ero eonld Lorraine, and her dog ;• , j®? Marmol had suddenly come to know : Manor was not very far away./ and the knowledge had come upon | aim with something of a shock. He had "ot known erf the footpath over the ridsre. 0. $ir j come by a much more devious way. Ana ho had made cautious, cunninir inlUtfiej as ha came. .He coald hear nothing of any fugitive | P nT, n° r here. Bv this time, had the thing apnened, it would bu widely known. That e'jnrd_ofFcfod would have loosened lips ana unsealed tongues, setting them wagf ln S eagerly. At the lodge and at the Qouso itself he had made inquiries precise ?V- ® nd definite, and Dinah's servants, who i;V t ere ' n nr n'-s silently on behalf of little f ?•' rfj rainc >. w hose btoiy was partially known I j f v.'".considerably embroidered, had lied to I yr. t m ? they adored. Marcus E ; . bugely admired. "Lorraine they res«!i 33 victim of some detestable I " i JT;Urdnrous plot. Not cms of them I Ivl?' '■ " avo betrayed her for love or I ? nc ' e . v n °t hesitnte to deny I 1." _ that any news had been reC: fca ~r e of the lost. lady, or that any ces of her had been seen at Darkmere. I k \did not know: and therefore ■fjt% '{f jf n the same from all.. But ever 'V u,„ 1 . not Darkmere, Dinah «s her friend, and might know some- . r whereabouts. .And so he " j what patience he could com '< 'l. j the arrival of the lady he had : an d suddenly round upor openmir of tho door, to see that il tal? " 0 j ®'n.ih yrhu had entei'ed, but a 19 -ibli,. t exceedingly pood-looking man : BU* ahl' re er r-on,e faint and indefin ■glfL re «emblanc« which bespoke kinship, SBri'.' ii cowed with the courteous grac< ® !n»i, i n ?. lo him, and which his call |kB;- polished into a weapon which wai » : d'-•'■' *vr' considerable service to him. J Mi '- Marmol, I believe? "
"What matter, what matter? Nothing matters in the world beside. I have lost Marcus—lost him for ever. Pray heaven that the girl is" dead—that she may never get him." • • . • -• <* ' * * »■. Dinah slept in a bed that had been moved "into Lorraine's room* The patient waa gaining ground dai'y, and there was no need that any oi.o should sit up at night with her. But it wps not well for her to be left alone. Soiitudo might easily bring back crowding boats of phantom terrors. So Dinah shared the room with her, and rose more than once in the night to give nourishment and see that all was - welL Sometimes Lorraine Would talk a little—of Marcus and his wonderful" goodness t 0 bor„ That she was to marry him when she could leave her bed seemed to Lorraine the crowning wonder of all the wonders which had hap-pened-since that awful night upon which Marcus had bidden her not to look back. She had told him everything she could remember; her terror, her flight, the plunge into the water, the> sense of swim.
he is not the kind who leto himself be imposed nipon. There are; limits to his J patience. Ho draws the line at the importunate woman who .., . . ." ' She stopped short, biting her lip. How well she knew that clean) in those watchful eyes when some boundary imposed by his will seemed about to be overpassed. If Lorraine trangressed—-if the giri in her terror and distress actually flung herself upon his mercy for protection, he would help her doubtless, but it might not count to her for good f And perhaps this would be her*chance! He might welcome her help! In any embarrassment he might readily turn to her! She would go- She would see him. She would question him. She would read him", she hoped, as he had too often read h*er. And who knew? , .Adrian did not restrain her. Perhaps, in spite of all this man's reasoning Beatrice was right. Lorraine fled to Marcus Quayle! The thing was within the bounds of possibility, lihough it seemed extremely improbahje. If so, it was of the first importance that she should be found and recaptured. --For if once hidden away by Quayle till she was of age, or married to him, if he would take her, then all hope of ultimate benefit to himself vanished away. But Beatrice would advise and summon him. A jealous woman (as he Had found out before this) is like a bear bereaved of her whelps. Thev would outwit and circumvent the girfand her lover yet! Byali means let her husten up,to town. Why bad they not thought of. tn * s sooner? Beatrice waved "away the impassive Bolton, who opened th* door to her. She knew where Marcus was in his evening hours. She walked into bis presence with something of dramatic effect: "Marcus, where is Lorraine Dumaresq? He rose to his feet, confronting her with unsmiling eyes. At once she was aware of some subtle, change m his attitude towards'her, and the woman spmt within her quailed as the bodily tissues quad before the cut of the lash. "By what right do you come to me with tha? question, Lady landislea?" - , « Marcus, do you know?" "Answer my question first, if you please." "Highf—right! Marcus, what do you mean? Have we not all of us the right to try everything?—to follow every clue? Lorraine came to you once before when she was in fear and danger, or -thought i herself so." "And why was she in danger once again. > Again the lash seemed to fall upon quivering flesh, and* Beatrice fell trembling I: into a seat, whilst Marcus seemed to tower • over her. '.-'" Why did that fragile and delicate girl •' fly forth into the darkness of a tempestuous t night from the shelter of a place that i should have been as a home to her? What • develry was there at work in the bouse that • night? Why was her dog taken forcibly I from her? Why was Bhe driven frantic by fears? You were there, Lady Lindislea— i you, another woman. What did you do for her that night? What was your share j in that grim tragedy ? [ Beatrice had her hands over her eyes. P " I came to comfort her about-Bogey, ) and she would.not let me N in. I off ered to \ Bleep with hep* to have her in my room. v She refused everything. She would not , open her door. I never oaw her again!" "And what was your part subsequent in . the small hours of that grim night? What ■ band had you in that ghastly tragedy? I " Marcus, Marcus—have mercy! What is it you know —you think?" Still he stood stern and towering above her. His face was stern and set and • granite-mask inflexible, immobile. " What I think, and think with reason, 8 is that Lorraine was to be done to death I that night,'and that you knew it—you, I Beatrice Lady Lindislea, you a woman, a and with nothing to gain. You were in 8 the vile plot. And you come here to 0 question me?" " Marcus, Marcus, have..mercy!" '' " Had you any mercy when you knew II and saw her terror and misery and loneliness? Had youi any pity for her? e " Marcus, you are awful. You are uncanny. Whut do you know? e "I know that you are a cruel, heartless o woman, faithless and corrupt. That is all . 1 1 wish to say to you. And having said it, f f ' ' ' ' '
ming with. Bogey beside her directing '-,- their course, Hhe scramble out, the head* long rush down the moonlit path to- ' •wards safety and Dinah. She remembered bow she clung to Bogey, how he helped her along, how he raised her up ■when she fell, how he sat beside her when she could net rise for a few minutes, . and sought, to comfort and encourage , her by his eager devotion ,* and , his matchless strength. But at some t point strength andl memory had, failed. » When she came to herself it 'was to find Marcus' 6troW arms about her, to; hear. his steady voice calling her his " little • love." After that she had been wrapped • in a mist of happy dreams, which Only gave way to sudden qualms of fear wsien she was waking from sleelp not remember how Marcus had bidden i her forget. ■ , 7 : ' 1 • \ , (To be continued on Saturday nwctO
Sincere inauguration of the Soldiers 5 Settlement Act, the work of the Lands Department, in opening: op the wide expanses of New Zealand Crown Lands,, has been raoßt inadequate, and far short of requirement* The apathy, inertia, and red tape of the department, is serious barrier to the progress of the Demmion, the future of which depends entirely upon the rapid opening up of its huge H*^i f 'w*ooa*i*a-.land. Instead of large areas being rapidly made available for ' settlement* the public merely receives a plethora of excuses for inaction. ' ■ '■■■■>■ - ,-, rI, ii '■ I. i - 1 ' ' ' ' ' i i i .I »m i
BrttiannJa (in holiday mood): "What are the wild waves saying?" i Mr. Punch: "Well, if you ask me, ma'am, they're saying that « you want to go on ruling 'em, you've got to rule the air too." —i'uncn.
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New Zealand Herald, Volume LIX, Issue 18173, 19 August 1922, Page 3 (Supplement)
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4,667MARCUS QUAYLE, M.D. New Zealand Herald, Volume LIX, Issue 18173, 19 August 1922, Page 3 (Supplement)
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