A REMORSELESS ACCUSER

New Zealand Times, Volume XXXVIII, Issue 8655, 13 February 1914, Page 10

A REMORSELESS ACCUSER

[Published by Special Arrangement.j [All Rights Reserved.]

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

CHAPTER X.

LOVE TRIUMPHANT. ‘HSlie’s beautiful and therefore to be ... Woo'd; , She is a woman, and therefore to do won." Although there were many reasons for Wilmot’s presence in London. ,ho had '•omained at Brighton in order to achieve a victory whicii. until the evening R his meeting with Doveroux, had promised to bo an easy one. . Sybil's candoui of speech and simplicity had charmed him, whilst her beauty had aroused a nassion whichwas irresistible in its nower over him. Never before had no loved a woman as he loved Sybil Montagu and now that ho was freo from th o entanglement that had followed his meeting with Mary I.estrange in Rome, and his presumed marriage with her there, he resolved to make Sybil Lady Tor til no had favoured him, ana until the moment of Devereux’s recognition or her upon the stage of the theatre b 0 • had never doubted hut that she would accept him. Now. however, tho hopes he had entertained with such satisfaction were endangered; there could be no ’ mistaking Devereux’s intentions, nor that Sybil would listen to them. There was a look in hep eyes, as she and Devereux drove nast him, which \vilmot understood onlv too well —the look ot trust and h’apnincss that ho had never seen there before—a smile which, even when lie and she had spoken to each other, never came, was on her lace at the moment when the man whom ho knew to bo his rival bent down speaking to ncr as they drove past him. And, thinking all this, conscious that the nrizo which had been almost in his gi'asn had been snatched away, Wilmot walked homeward, engrossed in thoughts that gathered to a fixed purpose in his black heart. ft was a week later, each day as u passed filled with a happiness from which Devereux had been a stranger hitherto. He was impatient at the hburs that separated him from the woman whom he loved with a strength and fervency that would never .change, ana his companionship with Sybil bad proved to him haw worthy she was to be loved. The sweet, clear voice and look of delight which greeted him each time they met betrayed more than words could have done the feelings of her pure heart, and that the love h© bore her was returned, although as yet it was unspoken. Seated before the fire one morning, Sybil’s thoughts were of Hevereux at th o moment when he entered the room, and there was a happy smile in her grey eyes, as, holding her\ little hands in his own. he gazed down into the face h 0 loved so well speaking tenderly. "I think I am glad that the.rain will prevent our drive this morning, he said, gravely. “I. have something to say to you—something to ask you, Sybil, and maybe that I wanted the courage to say it until now. I have dreaded that the Happiness which has been mine from the day you and I met might all vanish. And yet I think that I had no cause to fear it.” , . There was a deep earnestness in his voice, and Sybil’s face was averted from tho meaning glance upon his. Then ho spoke again. , >• "If you knew what my life has been, ho went on. “you would not wonder that I feared to lose the happiness which you have brought into it. It has been a lite of which I would put away all remembrance, to forget the misery and mistakes of it. It is in your power to giv© me new life. Darling, I’m here to ask for your love, your promise to be my wife, I love you more than words can express; you and you alone are all the world to me, your love, the most preoious gift that life can offer me,; and as he spoke.his arm clasped.her slender waist, drawing her to him in a gentle, fond embrace.' Her face was hiding its blushes against his broad chest, and all other thoughts were overwhelmed by the knowledge that he loved her. „ “Let me hare your answer, sweet one, bo said. “Tall me that you love me, and that from this moment your lire and mine are to' bo linked together in bonds never to bo severed.” -• “I love you,” she answered gently.. J. shall always love you, dear Cecil- , It wna the first time she had uttered his name to him, and he heard it with a thrill of emotion. . “For over,” he repeated, pressing her Close to him. “Through the years that He before, you will be always by my side, guiding and cheering me when care and anxiety come, as they do to all of ns. Your presence will be near one as. a guardian angel, and your .love filling with toy each moment of existence. All that I have is yours; all that will make your future happy I offer you. Yet these are but a poor return for all that you have given me.” . “Na- ” eh© answered, nestling against his throbbing heart. “For that seems so small a thing when I remember all your goodness to mo. Mine is only a woman s “What treasure can equal that, dearest heart?” he replied. ‘‘A true woman s love is beyond all price, and compared with it all else is valueless. Your love, dear Sybil, is better worth to mo than all earthly possessions, and I was poor indeed without it. To know that I have won your promise—that you are nunermakos me happier than I have power to tell ” and again his rapturous kisses met hers Then presently Sybil roused herself ’as from some delicious day dream, flushed and panting, ns she pushed back her dishevelled locks. “Darling," he Said, smiling fondly on her “von look the prettier with your curls loose. Let them be so, wearing the kisses t have placed amongst them,” and at this she glanced brightly into his impassioned face. Truly love is a magi, cian mightier than all that could bring such heavenly joy to a woman s eyes ae shone in hors. Tho time had flown quickly and unheeded. although it. seemed only a few moments since Devereux entered the room. . ' , "I see no reason for onr marriage to be delayed, dearest one," ho 'jtaia, ns she seated hevsolf beside him. Why should our happiness be hindered."'.' “I am ready to be your wife whenever you wish,’’ -she answered in her frank -Way. “I have no friends whom I need s consult ns to my marriage,” and at this he drew her nearer, to him, feeling her throbbing heart against his own. “I am afraid we must wait a week or two," he said. “But wo shall bo together. And when onr waiting is over, wo will leave this dull land, sweet Sybil, to spend a long honeymoon abroad.” A sudden vision of the happiness that lay before her made Sybil silent. There were thoughts within her, l heart which seemed to bring a peace and joy such as never in her dreams had come to her yet, and in perfect contentment she lay -/gainst her lover’s breast, listening as ho spoke of tho future ha and she were to share together. Never yet had a woman loved more fondly than she, nor resigned more gladly the keeping of her life and happiness to the man by whom her love- and trust had been won.

CHAPTER XL "FATEFUL NEWS." "Where joy most revels, grief dost most lament.” —Hamlet. The day following his meeting with Devereux and Sybil as they drove past him on their way back to Brighton Wilmot returned to London, and it was from Miss Montmorency that he hoard of Sybil’s engagement, and at reading the intelligence a half-suppressed exclamation of rage broke from his lips. Then a t-ncer crossed hi.s face whilst he tore rlio letter slowly to fragments. . (.Inly to her Irier.d. Miss Montmorency, had tybil confided th» secret of her ap-

preaching marriage to Lord Devereux, and that the ceremony would take place in a short time. The preparations for the wedding were to be very simple: sho and her husband would start for Paris immediately after leaving tho church, and only a few friends would be present at the service. Meantime the days were flying quickly, each one bringing nearer the certainty of happiness to the lovers, and each day their love grew stronger. Sybil had left the touring company at Devereux’s expressed wish, and changed her humble lodging for one more befitting her position as his future wife, and to Ibis Miss Montmorency was a constant visitor. There was a kindly good nature in her companion which Sybil could not resist, and although Miss Montmorency had experienced a pang of something very like envy at her friend’s engagement,’ the feeling had worn off, and in many ways by which her assistance was helpful she bad shown herself clever and resourceful. “If ever a human being had reason for considering herself happy you have, my dear,” said Miss Montmorency, as she and Sybil sat chatting merrily one afternoon.

"I am happy,” replied Sybil. \ery. very happy. Lord Devereux is so kind and good to me that I could not help but lovo him dearly. And yet it is not for that alone that Ido so. Can you understand what 1 mean. Belle?” Miss Montmorency nodded, not having an exact answer ready. “It seems hardly possible to think that you will bo Lady Devereux next Thursday,” she said at length. “It is Monday now. Only two days more of your old liberty, my dear.” Sybil laughed gently. "I resign my liberty willingly,” sho replied. “For think what I receive in exchange;” and the conversation drifted on pleasantly, until it was interrupted by tho entrance of Devereux into the room, whereupon Miss Montmorency rose, leaving the lovers together. Never before had Sybil presented a more charming picture than when, with the light of Hove in her eyes, she sat listening whilst Devereux described the plan he had arranged for their bridal journey. There was a thrill of happy anticipation in his voice as he spoke of the future; the certainty' of the calm bliss in store for him and the gentle loving girl, whom h 0 would call by the dear name of wife ere three days had gone by, and all memory of his past .life vanished as ho gazed upon Sybil’s face. “There have been many things- to do,” he told her. “I went to town this morning, and that I trust will be the last time for many a day. By Thursday you and I will be far away from England, dearest, and you will bo mine—mine for ever to love and cherish with all the devotion of my heart and soul. Tell me again that you love me, Sybil; your voice is sweeter, to me than the divinest music."

But one -day now before tho eventful morning of Sybil’s marriage, and as he paced the room in his hotel, Devereux was engrossed in deep thought. He had promised to see her that afternoon, and his journey to Loudon yesterday had been to purchase a gift worthy of his bride. It was a tiara of diamonds, beautiful and costly, yet even the radiance of th© gems would pal© before the rapture of her eyes, and as he paused a moment, realising the happiness which lay before him and the woman who was so soon to be his own —his gentle, heautif(il wife —his meditations were interrupted by the appearance of a footman, who entered the room, bringing a - letter, which Devereux took.

The address was scrawled in a handwriting unfamiliar to him, and opening the envelope hastily. Devereux scanned the contents, his brow darkening with a look of horrified surprise. Then he reread slowly, and an exclamation of angry dismay broke from his lips. “Heavens!” he cried. "This is some fearful mistake, do I I can't believe what I see written here."

There was no signature to th© letter, nor address; but. the words had an import which drove -the blood from his face, leaving it pale as death. “Your wife is living.” went the letter, cruel in its deadly curtness. “Your marriage with Sybil Montagu would be a crime blacker than murder, now that you have been undeceived.” And with an oath Devereux crushed tho fatal message convulsively in his hand.

(To be continued.)