A MARKED WOMAN.

New Zealand Times, Volume LXXI, Issue 4289, 23 February 1901, Page 3 (Supplement)

A MARKED WOMAN.

i!;y J. L!ui:.fididle-BurU--n), ■ i i.is i ; i.ol, a h.-.e story, but it n al I .,■ i; ’ which was wh.it pretty xlo bi i- PaUcziiuix u>cd ahvajs to say v/hei fi r- !• f n. to narrate to IMyi'S of il” I; o!, Mr. at Villi;i>! .-fiery oi tn< (>i'i foil'll I.!" 11l Jl.i v io.oti' .• .'oil-ot i/.il-. If) I si ;--H of hi, and r-uw i:o tvn|*!i-»l in i, am l.ov '".ire (rouble vuv.ioi, ;-mi lur.v ■'••hi )■:!,. mvy fi-oiii . But it i-> no: Ronit, ,v itv vvhi'v: 1 am going to l‘-t you, lon, o.io o! i.tiy ov/u i:i u I play cii f lu; ;>t■ i 11 (■ 11 .1 ;i■. i■ t. A a l. l Ur-re is a :,oi. of lovo m it. ioo, of ,i :,ira;i;;o kind, as -on 1 1 ;i■ I. if vou tviil hut read. V» !. <tc:V.r-.>. new, I hi -i;jj. ■ . :i. liov in lliimi- o. i V, hen Robtooo Ai ■ if! -; o'l ! foiiuiir I 1: ■ En-n'ili (): ■ ', \, i.i :; j ii) i' ’; ;: ! I *<. - U;ri» j% m v ;■ ; ; t|r, |#i■ f■.it- ; u<l :> <>[ Uiksiy ill t il, o .vlo";-, V a. 1 . 1 11 . s 11 IV ‘ I an <■>;:!(•, 1)0ii; ' ,vi : 1 o • .!i f Mill la t';o service- t-1 v. ,v . 1,re,0.i my l.i’ hoi', ivho wail ' i'-,i:f ;■. ■ ■ <l< ■ * Ill'll!., il iloi.uo oi i oi:' 1 noi i i in Ivooi.uul. . io .it I ;;i! dan oi v.lii'-h iv.ri’e, widen Vi. . 1"o priii f i” h 10, my lather —lira•a■i 11 i o;.>. pis :■ .-.ill i —iutd gone to liio aco.i'ir ; m\ mm lor ii.ul retired to our <;o;. f ill, ui Sln'i oy, ami .1, CjiiU'l, liitii i,a Srvrra, was 1 1 vi>j;in London. i||'ni i limit e;y Horn, rf us had v' s‘i! doiio or eoi'iinitti i.l Mifiicbmt, treason. o ;t wa-ea'i-d, to get oi lie;- pro.-v-nbed er atr. ,■,!(•.!, ,ni ibai, op lo i:om . In/ ii my Mi .lo r ami my:-,id' wore in |;o.-.-.’ ".ion oi ■on. i;iii 1i- (01011011 mi'iuip ;i.’:|i t i does and aid mil m mO" too openly wild politic.. it iviu. jii a as ulmly a.> luit lo o. 1 :-!;ooid loi cum bfi't a ole all tlm rest ” 't,u; i ' : • / ) >ro i v- t. / iah i nun .'Mixtiby :o iao oil" lily,ln :;l lids peried, wuen il.. .a: in ,;- rooms ill Viai'.viei; Court, by Spre-ip; i fardr ss. "tliat you will never be a '.oriliy Jucchit e mi Ion;; us you are us j,;o. d-li'oldr.;; -iml proper a mam as, you :.i'o new. Clam!, omn ami, you think too me r.f love's dalliances and vvoiucil’s Ji*-. lo; aad putrbi s ever lo strike itbli’.v lor tho oood cause. Ami. liy the tv:■ v, '..'laud,'’ lie “arc you vvi o a, aeri.iin. event vvliieii v, e know' of ' I am,’' I replied. “'And, v.liat is more, J. am o.oincr lo make just, as good an a.iCnipu :,s any of ns to. restore Charles "ilshd 1 fs,!i said Rivrtram. ‘AValls liavo ears! Not :-o fast', mil, so last. Al-sniviiile, what are you •..oiug to do Hid d liio piv.il even iMppeii: : ' \ ■v!mi;m Jiila. I am yoiia; dmvn to stay i at . sTViiolida it Ii your iv-pi atml uncle.: -Ilia IVo ill!; 11111 . ll|i,iiv.’l.i;lli.l.l is eel tine hot /uol flow -y. i he play-liwircs are stuPtd 1 ■Mud limni an' Mime jn-i'idy girls, or r-;'ii) tie, at S.ixotKlai". Jiol lie! i 'mow ■you. I tow many are you going to make lovo to there h'’ j “i know not. Are you going also?’’ j ■'ii am. Yeti have hoard that we are to have some, news there t” and lie looked expressively at mo as, he spoke. i "[ have, and in spite oi my lightness and friviilily, the most important part of that news is to be nt lo me, just be(ca'j e I am so light and frivolous Unit no one will ever > aspect mu of being its recipient. Oil, lean led you,’' 1 went on, “it is no bail tiling to lane I he reputation of bciing unlit tor eentidenee, and yet, to bo the recipient of the most valn-j able of conlidunees. Not a bit is it.’’ !

"jU.V respected unclf Vi ill gather soma strangd.y assorted quests /it Saxomlale,” ■ssi it I Bertram, meditatively. ‘‘He is a

klj read old feilo'.v, staunch Jucohito as ho is. They ivill never I'urli liitn napping ; aad !'il p.- i.af if : ><•-, vl.ei her CT. i *rh" emii' b ovi c (he water or not —• ami if ho does, i-i.v inielo will lend money and jissistance—he will, nevertheless, not get implicated.'' “Who are the.-,e strangely assorted guc.-.t.,, t nough?” I asked. “Sir James ■> ■ 1 1 ' ha- a, reputation for having the piv'tn-i-t women and the most distingue.end intm at Sivxoud-alo in the summer whom it is possible to collect together.” “.say, never fear,’ - laughed Bertram. “The pretty women will be there; so, to", tho clever men, the latter of whom need not bo stated since you and I are to bo amongst (hem. There is, to wit, your old sweetheart, though still n young licnidy, Cyiilhi Sneyd. Then there is Okirinda Serope, also I ho rally Hortensia Mr.tnrode, and—but you will see them ail soon enough.” “ Tot,” said I. ‘T do not yet see the strange usmii Iment. you sneak of. Those wlioni yon have mail ioncxl are all of our following. Wo all think :v : hc, and hvo in nope; of tho ono groat tiling that is to happen. This is iu: mixture.’’ "Sc ?” asked Bertram, with a careless air. “Mo:' Von do not think so? Wen, nei.be;' do f myself-—yet there are others. To wit, [ho Karl of Aloimtinort is coming.” "Mountmbrl 1 cried. ‘'That fellow! Thai, weathercock who has been of every side and party, who is politically everything by turns and nothing long. Why,’’ continued 1, holly, “lie lias beau a Jacobire and Hanoverian half a dozen. Mines already, and will be " “tie is .Hanoverian now—for the time baing—and lie will continue to be so if Charlie is scut back to France. If tho Prince stays iu England my lord will bo ono of his wannest adherents.’’ “Faugh! lint, all tho same, what is ho doing, or to do, ns a guest in your lu.clc’s house ?” “Among other things,” replied Bertram, as imperturbably as ever, “ho Ik going to bring his bran-now wife- Perhaps he wishes to show our Stuart beautie.; that ho can get a handsome woman, for a bride, although he is a weathercock'.’’ “Is she handsome?” “.My word she is! But mighty haughty, too. Thong!; that is natural, since, you know, she is not te tho manner born, Jly l.'tiiy is of the traders' class, therefore be very sure she is vastly more imperious then tne.io who arc used to rank and fa'-!, ion.”

"Kut why docs Sir James have thorn at Saxomlale at a!!?’’

‘‘Because,” said Bertram, “he is a. sly o!d fox. although the best of line its. And—and—well, if j.lountmort is there, tie a ha can he cited as a. testimonv to the fact that the party ; lt Saxondalo could not have been got together with a i lew lot plotting (reason since, in that case, ho would have btvn tiie last man to bo asked as guest. Dost understand, my lad

'■con it drew to Ihe middle of Juno and Sir James Saxony’s guests worn ail a- vcmbled at Saxontlale, and, in solemn tru.n. they did justily Bertram’s statement that they were a strangely-assorted sc: of people. For, now, see of what a. s’.rango melange wo wore composed. ! rstly, thoro wore those beauteous maidens mentioned above, arrayed as though foe slaughter of men’s hearts, and wearing their laces and frills and love-locks, and c.istiug glances from (heir roguish eves as though they had not- to think of aught iu this world hut love and marriage. Mien we, (ho men of the party, were also coquetting, and love-making, an 1 e.i.-tim, sheeu-eytM, and playing at and indulging in archery contests as if Ino were nothing but a long summer’s dri am.

itore, 100, was the Ahhe 1.,- Kean from Baris-, who was soppose;l to be a traveller in Kugland who intended later to write a- book on; our religious institutions and customs, and who smiled and bowed and scraped ns though lie were the happiest mau in the world and without a

I cure. Also, our good eld host seemed j intent on nothing mure Uian providing I pleaviro for his gii.sds, in .-..•ciug ill,.it the | nor.iSs and The eoacm .. wore always in i readme-,-, for lie; on tings, and that tin ! t.okav was p.'fpe.iy (lulled and the re- | pasl.s of C:o ver.v l.e'-l. and ini'ies-.ome, as l.iougii existenee v. ere ; but a pi"!',a;it fete. i. o’ below inesur--1 i,i:n iio vv (1 ;l. ro eir’ n 10l i'or 'die | niow v.a -. .moul lo sunek v,iueh, ii it I mded .veuiu .-.end tiiem to tin,- tiioek. ihe I ,-liiij'-, tm. - -who we., no morei an Ahbo ili.iu I, 1, 11! , imwr-.e!, a n;o-,i. r.Kvotea rollowerol iim .leiio-om -.1 ij'iu.-o and a .Sootei,>nan u iio sooko i're.'K.-h lim,- im angel - if iiitg.-.-. e.ir.-jnrih ;;.„c league, which i i;J.;o n V.i ■> doubt I knew winn wo aid hapo-ii to ids neek u ibii.ee w.-nb wiojig, -.wine r/u- .J;d..i . Naxei.y uouid soineliirv.. ji. mo -l c.i.coiiunou glum over Ids last g.a.s.s id. n |, ;nc v.lien one in gan I" '.-.'eigli up Um ioi-i and U.e agam.-ds of I‘riaco Cmulie's oiiiiiiee., of dicnn-. !!ut auKdipy,! im ail there moved two pi .;>.io V. t'O si-einod to lliiuk oi limbing mil. tlm vv ay ;u which iho-.e long .vmune-r d.iy- might im pa.-i.suhmo >t- ph-asiirabiy ; oi nmv i.iai.y i,mis lla-y eca.d lot tli.o gout 1.0 lie; large I or gm, nearest tile-Jack upon iho bowling green, and whether my fj.dly .Uountiiiore could whip more inmi oiii. of I lie stream in a given Unit; limn I’ertnuu Saxeby Jiijiisell, who vain a wily angler. In mull, J. dc aver tliat amongst all assembled at ba'.omia.e- there was no .ingle i.oul, maseuhne or feminine, vvliieii it. so unruffled as were the souls of v.imiiuinort and ins lovely wife, to all Vied, pel hans .ley had reason to lie .U peace. Cor hic-urumoi t was deeply sivoin now to King George and Ins uvnasty, anil all of tliat side tl.ougni that t'hades btuait had not the thousandth part of a cliimwr of ever ropi.sse.-.siiig hiniselt of tin; throne of la.s aiieesters, it was not mrange that lio siiould be so eana and uudi.darbed. On the other hand we, ul,o, as you might say, were setting our lives upon a east, were by no mean:', at ease.

j Ah for me, - I had oilier things, which | were far removed from politic.-,, to disjtiirb my mind—tiling:; that 1 do assure i yon can make the heart beat ((lute as i last as any impending change of throne j or Government, and cause equaLy uuj ea-y and ;a.,Mess nights. , For I \V;c. in love, as always, and badly,,l no, with Cyrilla Sneytl, who was f tin; ha.ughticst of all tho young beauties ;at Saxondale, while, fn* some reason, it,';, riila seemed by e.j means disposed to i give mo the opportunity of telling her so, Onco 1 had asked her to meet me | in tho Lime Walk at dusk after supper, : when we generally strolled about ni couples, since ’twas too hot to bo indoors, and sin; had refused point-blank; 1 and on another occasion 1 had asked her to come and see the nicturcs in the long gallery, but ’twas always tho same. .She would not do .so, being an extremely cauI lions and dignified damsel. I Whereat I used to got as mad as though a hornet had stung me, which only served to make my Lady Mount- ! inert laugh—she was a winsome, gip'ot thing, e.nd too good, we all thought, for her lord—and shake her pretty golden curl.-—which wore I ho prettiest of any at Sasnmlnlc excepting Cyrilla’s, they baing as golden as hers. For tier ladyship generally happened by some, circumstance or other to be always in the way when I .was pleading with the girl for a quiet i moment: while., if I made my ref|iicstto j Cyrilla iu the loaf-arched grove, it was 1 a certainty that my lady happened to ! bo close by; or. again, if T whispered tho same thing in the girl’s car when wo were in tho summer-house by the fish-pond. Madame la C'omtcsse was sure to be just behind the bower and coming toward that-pond with her hands full of crumbs for tho caw*.

“It- is ho avail, my lord,” she used to s-ay, after Cyrilla- had made her escape, while her beauteous face would be suffused with blushes. “Cyrilla Is not for you. I vow she loves someone else.” *'Sho does not—asking your ladyship’s pardon. She loves me —I know it, only she is a little coy. Yet I shall win her.” ‘‘Would yon wager?” asked her ladyship. “A small wager, say?”

“Wager about what?” “That, she will meet you in—-well! in tho picture gallery.” “.Ves 1 would. How much will you wager ycursolt? It must bo in reason, though, since I am not ns rich as Lord Aioimtmorir —while I could not help adding—“sines Ills marriage,” for, as all tho world know, my lady was mighty rich.

“01;, anything. What shall we 1 say. Come now, mono)’, or what? In reason, of course.”

“Suppose,” I said, “you wager that brace of .spaniels his lordship brought you out of France; against a score of silverfringed gloves from Tackett’s, by tho Exchange, in tho Stiand. They arc the best, tho ladies say.”

“Doubtless you know,” she laughed. ‘T will be bound you havo had to buy a-many. Yet.” she added] T lovo my spaniels.”

“And I love Cyrilla” I replied. “And I havo set my heart on getting her for an hour to myself.”

“Well, so bo it. Tho spaniels against a .score of silver-fringed gloves from Tacketts.” .Then, as slio turned her head away, I could havo sworn I heard her whisper, “After all, ’Ms worth it, and ho will lose.” “Is it a wager?” I asked.

‘•lt is,” she replied. Then her ladyship continued, in a mocking tone. “Why do you not try to-night ? It is the masked ball, and it Cyrilia would come to you at all, sho could do so then.'’ Now, this was true. There was to be a masked hall that night, to which all llio gentry of liio country wore invited, and. in solemn truth, it v.-as to boa “masked’' affair in more ways than one. For it was to bo used as a sort of disguise of what was a-doing. and words of import were, to be spoken as to what was likely to happen in the North ore long, and as to how my Lord This and Sir Somebody That wore to find themselves, by accident. in Scotland at a. given momentum! so on. Though, all the same, doubtless there would bo some ioveunaking and coquetting amongst the younger members of the company. ‘‘LTI do it," I said. “I will try tonight-. Though I am not bound to this night alone. If I fail, I may try again to win the spaniels?", “Yen may try until his lordship and I depart from Saxondaio. Am! I depend on your honour to tell mo the truth as to whether you succeed or not.” “You may depend.” I said.

Wo upon this we parted. I being more than ever determined now that I would j induce Cyrilla. to meet me alone in tlio I picture gallery to hear my prayer. Yet iit was hard to do so, and I cudgelled my brain-; as to what reason I could givo that would induce her to come—what re" v on beyond my love for her? Yet, when the masked bait was at its height, I wao waiting in the picture gallery for tho girl. For—oh, happy man!—l hud sent her a fervent letter imploring her to meet mo and hear what I I hod to say, and for answer I had ro- ! ceired a tiny scrap of scented paper on which was written the one word "Yes.” She-had consented, therefore she loved jmc! She was coming! And we should alone; no one else could come, and

i that for a very gor-d and sufficient toason. The picture gallery had been under repair lor some time, the wails had been repainted, the pictures were down. Therefore, die place was at present in disuse, and, instead of being a blazo cr light, as otherwise it would have, heedon r.’icli a night as this, it was dark and demr'ed. All dark- and black it was.

except for a ray of light from the moon that now and again crept in uitough the great, windows when tlm scurrying clouds beneath her face left it clear and free for ,v moment.

Im-gino ray delight v.u.cn at .such an ins’sVt I saw down at ’lie funner end of tin; room a shadow darker than the room itself; a figure standing there hooded and masked, the long dark deal-: envelopin':; ad beneath, so that the pink and orange; dress which I knew my svveelheavt wore, was oaito covered up and obscured. She was tnere! She had cmno! I. could tel! her all. Vet she was mighty coy and timid. I found, when 1 approached her. Siie :> mild not advance lurther into the room, no,- would- (reseated, while her whispers v.vre so low that. I could scarcely ciis- • ingul.-h the tones of her voice, and as for ’ a embrace, a kiss—my word! it was col to be thought of.

‘ [ would not have come on any pretence whatever,” I heard her whisper, her voice being C|uito mlulled by the cloak she held' to her face, “hut thatM know you go so soon to t!,;; North. |bi, Claud, when do yvi no to ioin hunt’ ■ Go to join whom f ’ 1 asked, astonished. Vo.- tliat Cyrilia Snoycl should not know flic exact day and week when “Mr Scott’ —as we called him —was expected, seemed to me beyond belief. “Aou know as well as I,” she said. "Tell me,” she whispered again. ‘•Toil,, me, when does ho comer’

1 was standing by her as she asked Ihe qii. stion, and, perhaps, so that 1 might the more easily bend over her. I had re.-ked my left hand against- the wail, tin; palm outstretched against it. And now, a:-; she spoke—asking mo so strange a ijiiestion, for strange it was when proceeding from the mouth of the daughter of so staunch an old Jacobite as Sir Henry Sneyd, who knew all—l bent down closer to her to observe if it were possible, her features. While as I did so, I—half lover-like, and. perhaps, even in such circumstances, in u 100 familiar way —placed ray hand on her shoulder as 1 said, quietly—•

‘'Cyrilia, wo meet here to talk of love. Come, why do you not show me your pretty taco? You know it is the fairest sight on earth to me. Come, I say, letmo see it ; uuraa.sk and let that cloak fall. Come,” aud as I spoko I endeavoured to remove her vizard with one hand and to loosen the folds of the cloak with the other.

But she was slippery as an cel, and wriggled- about so that, as I could not hold her without hurting her, I had perforce to lot her go, when like a lightning’s flash, she had gained the door in a moment and was out of tho room. Yet iu tho instant that she turned and fled the moon burst out in all her glory, and in the light which streamed through the window I saw that upon thejshoukler of her velvet cloak there was imprinted the mark of a man’s hand—tho palm and fingers being plain and distinct—the mark of my hand, which had become whitened by contact with tho freshly-cleaned wall (it- not having yet received its final coating), and so had, next, made its impress on tho velvet. And she did 1 not know it. That was very certain 1

A litt-lo later peal after peal was ringing from the great hell in the tower, for now it wan midnight and supper-time. Wherefore, all the men were assembled in tho old banquetting-hall, to which were' now orrnie most splendid visions. For, at twelve o’clock, tho ladies were to appear', unmasked and uncloaked; there was to- be no more disguise that night. So that we, the cavaliers, standwig on either side of the great saloon doors, wore looking forward eagerly to that most rapturous sight. Then tho door opened, and, preceded by tho v a-rlets and headed by the old steward, they entered the room.

.Because raj’ Ladv Mountmort was of hivchest rank, Sir James advanced and led her to the chair placed on his right baud : my lord gave his hand to Lady Hortensia Bulstrodc, who wa-s daughter to a. (lake, and I selected Cyrilla for my partner, she and I sitting facing, her ladyship.

“Well." her ladyship said, looking across tho table at me, while there was a wicked sparkle in her eyes, “and have you won your wager, my lord ?" While, turning to those around whowere listening—and especially was Cyrilia listening, she doubtless wondering what had become of me for an bom- of that evening—her ladyship continued—- “ My. Lord' Severn made me a bofc lie would meet a certain lady in the picture gallery this night. Did you do so?" sho ashed again of me. “You know.” sho said, still with her merry laugh, “I take your word. Yet—yet—l think I should have some proof.” “You can haro proof, and welcome,” I replied, very much at case in spite of Cyrilla’s glances of surprise. “The lady wore a- long dark cloak, and on that cloak there is now the mark of my hand, which was, whitened by the wall against which I placed it. In the excitement of a love passage it, in its turn, whitened that cloak. You know who 1 tho lady was ; ask her to show yon the cloak to-night, and you will see that I have won my wager.” So, you see, I turned tho tables on Lady Mountmort. who thought, to extract the secret from mo of when the Pr— I mean Mr .Scott- —was coming to * the North (doubtless she did it at the instigation of her turncoat husband!, and 1 covered her with shame and confusion as with a garment. For never shall I forget tho look of consternation on her face as I told her how I had marked her —yet not with sc ranch shame and conin non as she merited, in common with nil spies, since, with the execution of Cyrilia—to whom I had perforce to tell Hie story later—not. one person in all Saxondaio ever learnt- from mo who the lady was whose clonk got marked on the shoulder in such a strange wav. though more than one, including Cyrilia, was suspected; while, if yon wiio read this narrative arc yourself' of the fair sox, you will probably understand quite weil how, in some strange, mysterious way, that cloak was missing from the retiring-room after supper, and you will also comprehend that none was ever found bearing on it the traces of a man’s hand in either whitening or any other chalky substance.

As for the spaniels, they are mopt excellent- dogs, and accompany me whenever I go gunning. They came into my possession on the day the Slountmorts left Saxondale.—“Glasgow Weekly Her- 1 aid.’’