A REMORSELESS ACCUSER

New Zealand Times, Volume XXXVIII, Issue 8654, 12 February 1914, Page 8

A REMORSELESS ACCUSER

£ Published bt Special Arrangement.] [All Rights Reserved,]

By EDGAR PICKERING, Author of “Dick Boresford’s Wife,” “Was She Guilty?” etc., etc.

CHAPTER IX. DEVEREUX’S RIVAL, "Black hatred and revenge Go hand in hand To work destruction.’-'—Anon. The play proceeded, but Dcvcrcu.x heard nono of it, and ho was impatient for the moment when ho might obtain ah interview with Sybil. 'There was a fierce delight in his heart, as he thought of seeing and speaking to her again, to hear her voice and see once again the grave smile linger in her eyes; and every moment of delay seemed to be robbing him of a newly-discovered joy. .Meantime tVilmot sab with his thoughts busy in conjecturing the cause for his companion’s sudden exclamation. There was no more speaking of the woman whose image occupied the mind of both himself and Devereux; hut a quick, oharp pang of envenomed jealousy stabbed him again and again. Then the tedious play had come to an end, and with an excuse for not returning with Wilmot to his hotel Dcverenx made his way behind the scene, encountering Miss Montmorency, who smiled graciously as he addressed her. 'They had never seen each other before that moment; hut the moments were too precious to him to wait for a formal introduction. “I wish you would take my card up to Miss Montagu,” he said. ‘‘Certainly I will. You're another friend of hers, I suppose Devereux shook his head. “I can scarcely claim to be that,” he answered. “But I wish particularly to seo Miss Montagu. I presume you will he leaving Brighton soon ? Where do you go afterwards?” “We’re billed for Bournemouth,” replied Miss Montmorency. “Whether we shall get there is another' affair. This tour is not paying.” The conversation was interrupted hy the coining of the manager, who was effusively polite 1 to Devereux, ami Miss Montmorency, after giving him another friendly nod, went nimbly tip the narrow stairs leading to the dressing rooms. In a few moments Sybil came down them, and Devereux advanced towards her. “Why did you disappoint me at Beachcombe?” he asked abruptly, forgetful of any ordinary salutation. Sybil looked at him with a smile. “I broke no promise,” she answered. His gaze was centred on her beautiful face, and for a moment or two he held silence. “I wish you could understand how pleased lam to have found yon,” he saidi at length. .Sybil smiled again, glancing towards the stage entrance. ■ “Do you expect anyone?” he asked. “Noj” was the ‘reply, her heart throbbing with strange agitation as "she looked coyly down from hia earnest gaze. “ Will you permit me to walk with you to your lodgings?” he said, after a little pause. “They ate not far from here. lam accustomed to go from the theatre alone,” she replied, evasively. Then, with a momentary hesitation, she asked whether he had been at the performance.

“If I Lad. known that you were here, I should Lave come before now.” They had left the theatre as he said this, and Sybil was walking with a quick step. “ I cannot express my disappointment when I failed to find you in Beaehoombe,” he said. “ Will you believe that?” Sybil looked up at the handsome, resolute face, reading there the depth and meaning of the question. “Why did you hide yourself?” he continued. “ Must I answer?” she replied. “ Nay, I will not press the question. X am satisfied now that I have found you.” ■ Ho spoke in earnest tones, which could not be mistaken yin their sincerity, iand a glow came into Sybil’s heart, the conversation turning upon various subjects, until the mean little house was reached where she had found lodgings. “ Good-night,” she said as they stood at the door, and for a moment he retained the little hand extended to him. “Until to-morrow,” he said. “The hours will be long until I see you again. I will be here at eleven. May I come?”

Her answer was, given quickly. “Yes,” she replied, and then she had entered the house.

Tiie recollection of that night was never to fade from her memory, and her dreams wore of the man whose voice and face had fascinated her. There was no doubt of his truth when he Lad spoken, no questioning of the pleasure their meeting gave him. Love, with its thousand happy thoughts, had come; love which until now she had never known, and. on Devercux’a part there was the hope and gladness to which ho lied boon a stranger until his meeting with Sybil. As he wanted home, that night he pictured to himsolf the trusting glance which once or twice had met his, and the recollection of it was very sweet. There was an exultation in his freedom to woo and win this gentle girl, whose grace iand beauty were beyond all that he had over met before, and tbe plans he had formed of leaving England wero all cast aside, for a new existence lay before him. ' Sybil was ready when he arrived at her lodgings the next day, and together they, drove far out into the country, leaving behind them all remembrance of the town and its .dullness. What happiness it was to him to watch her radiant face and bright eyes, to hear her voice, and have her companionship. He knew her history before the drive was ended, and how distasteful the life was which she had chosen, now that she know its realities. “Yet I doubt whether your life has been lonelier than mine,” he told her. “I have wandered far, and never found satisfaction or a real friend. True, I have many acquaintances, hut not one who has the power to stir my heart or quicken my pulses. I was weary of tho world, its hollowness and deception.”

“You talk as thougli you had suffered some great sorrow,” sho answered. “I have suffered through my own folly; through my belief in men and women. But my lesson has taught me to regard what is good and pure as something beyond all price. It has taught me what true lovo maw be.” There was ji little silence after this, and Sybil was looking straight before hor, conscious that his eyes were gaz-

1 jurr on her. It was a bright, fresh morning, and the spirited horses which Dcvereux drove tandem carried them swiftlv through the village to which they'had come. Then the direction was back to Brighton, towards which they were approaching rapidly, when at .a. bend in the road a gentleman, who was sauntering along, turned at, the sound of the wheels. It was Esmond Wilmot, and as he raised his bat Svbil made him a grave how. “Do vou know that man? ’ asked Dcvereux. touching the leader, who resented the whip by breaking into a gallop. “I have seen him once or twice at the theatre.” said Sybil. “He is a friend of -Miss Montmorency. He is Sir Esmond Wilmot.” “Ho is a man I have not very much liking for.” replied Devereux; “a man not to be trusted. I would warn you against him.” “Why do you give me that piece of advice?” she asked. “Perhaps it was needless,” he laughed, but she was not satisfied with the answer.

“Sir Esmond and Miss Montmorency are great friends, you know. Ts it not she who should he warned? But I think you are judging too harshly.” “I tell you he is a man whom I thoroughly distrust., I am not often wrong in my estimate of people.” They had'left Wilmot far behind by this time, .who, as he gazed after the rapidly disappearing dogcart, uttered an angry oath. “I understand your reasons now, Devereux, for the way you spoke the other night,” he muttered. “But 1 will spoil your little game,” and an angry scowl crossed his face. Meantime they had been rapidly approaching the town, and upon their reaching the house where Sybil was lodging Devereux gave his groom orders to drive on to the stables. Lingering as if unwilling to part from her, ho and she stood at the door for a m'oment.

“I shall he at the theatre to-night,” he said, “You will remember my warning?” But Sybil’s face was turner! from Ins, so that ho lost the serious look that came into it at his words. (To ho continued.)