THE BEAUTIFUL PROXY.

Otago Daily Times, Issue 15196, 15 July 1911, Page 2

THE BEAUTIFUL PROXY.

PUBLISHED B7 SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

}:-£ 15- l\r.z?A'i (jitamm, Attlkor hi "The (Jsr.'k Tfettpiaci/' "Jsirih and "The WonderAthenians" Bsggar's .Mami" v 'fie Swret T'/iitine/' tic., tic.

(Copyright.) SYNOPSIS OF I'HEYIOUS CHAPTEItS. Chapters I :» V.-Anne Edgcworlh. alia 1 ) " Veronica DAzcmr,"' vnuyininiy ailwMr.il U) wisiuuhv tl The I'ravelling ha» made her last ix;rlonc'iric-';, having tuflkiMit to livo upon. A lady calls Jo we her 111 great agitation. She te.'n.-s to think she is (loins wrong 10 .Miss iJvliicour'a help. Anne gives her lier i'-i 1 name, and :-tjl'-i lliat -she is tho (laughter of John Edgcworth, the ador. Tim little ladv tells her tliat John Edgeworth was her chimin. She is Lady Caroline Ca-ssilis.* A<*-*id«nta.liy she saw Miss Edge eorlli entering the theatre, and was struck by lior_ remarkable rcsctnblaiios to her niece- Sylvia. Afterwards she saw her play, and was more continued in lier iinpreiwoi) She tells her that she and Sylvia are in terrible trouble. She wants Anno to go with her at once. Anne refuses to do t/'iis. but promises for the morrow. Early in the morning sh{; roceivcs a letter from Lady Caroline arranging a roundabout,kind of a rendezvous. Anne follows instructions minutely. Lady Caroline's motor car takes lier up by the banks of a r-li'cani, and carries her to' a spacious residence. She is cscorted (o a little room and lockcd in. Lady '.'arolino tells her nieco tlwt slie has brought Anne Edgeworth, and takes her to her. Tho two girls arc almost identically alike. Formalities are dispensed with, and Anno is asked to tako Sylvia's identity for a oortarn timo. She promises to do it. Sylvia, who was very unhappy, is now much relieved. After dinner _ they discuss the project. Since Anne is to becomo Sylvia (who is Lady Delaval), then Sylvia may become Anno Edgoworth. Ono other only is allowed to be in tho plot, and that is Sylvia's maid, Sorly. Tho woman is brought in and l tpld what is going to transpire. Lady Caroline gives Sorly something to read that ehe may understand better.

Clmptors VI to IX.—Lady Caroline takes Anno aside, and tells her that the causo of tfanr terror is a man: that Mr Bmtbv had seer.etly married Sylvia, while yet a. minor, a. year or fo ago. Ikcause sho was unhappy Sylvia had implored her aunt's assistance. Tho little lady at onco went to her nicco's liolp, and look lior away. She paid-Mr Hrethy a largo sum of money, and he went, abroad for a year. They had just heard that ho intended to como and claim lier. Anno is alurmcd at tho difficulty of fiho situation for herself, but Lady Caroline tells her to treat him firmly, and refuse to have anything 1 to do with hini. Anne Edgeworth is _ dressed _in Sylvia's raiment, and Sylvia is made into a plain elderly-looking woman, Anno Edgeworth. Visitors arc announced--Sir Arthur Knowsley and Mr Knowsley,—and tho deceptions pass off very .well, Sir Arthur mentions that a tall handsome fellow, with queer e.vo.s, has been soon in the park, and l has been asking .questions concerning Lady Delaval and Lady Caroline. The real Sylvia, Lady Delaval, loses consciousness. Anne Edgoworth, as Sylvia, takes possession of Lady Delaval's bed chamber, while Sylvia, as Anhe, takes the dressing room. During the storm Anno and Lady Caroline sit together, and the latter tolls her more of Sylvia's story. Anno hears a noise at her window. A man crosses tho sill. When questioned ho says ho wants his wife. CHAPTER X. ; He drew a gold case from his pocket and took out a cigar. " I've no doubt that you'll think it in execrable taste,"' he said; "but I want to smoke. I mean to make myself entirely at home. Sit down again, my dear; I'm not a fidgetty man, but really your nervousness begins to affect me. Sit here—beside me on this settee." ' Anne shook her head. " I prefer to stand,'' she said. "We cannot have much to say to each othpr; let us make tho interview as short a 6 possible." " The deuce i How, frigid you are! I had expected thai by this time you'd have come fluttering to my arms. I don't believe that you'ro as wholesomely afraid of me as you were?" "I am not afraid of you," said Anne coldly. "I despise you mote than I can say; your presence in my room is an outrage;'' "My dear, dear Sylvia! And I your husband! Come, let us talk amicably; by this time there's no need for affectation in either."

A frown of perplexity fretted his forehead; the girl's manner was so different from what -lie had anticipated.

" We will be rational," he said eauvely. "I shall stay here, and in the morning you shall present me to the household as your loving husband. Your kind, if somewhat mischief-making old, aunt, shall receive her conge. Delaval shall be filled with' gay parties—l promise wou a lively time."

"You aro making a strange mistake if you believe that I will ever live under the same roof with you," said Anne; "I detest scandal, 1 but if I am compelled, I shall give orders for you to be turned from the house. I care nothing now about the marriage being announced to tbe world. And if you offend further than you have done, I shall be compelled to take measures against giving you any more money.'' Mr Bretby was visibly astounded. He sprang up with a curse, and caught her wrist again. "You fool, to threaten me!" he snarled. " You should be content with my easy humour, and not compel me " " Take your hand away!" she 6aid. "I will not let you touch me. I shall call for help—Sorly will hear me."

"You're too much afraid of your scandal for that," he said. " However, since you're in such a d peevish humour, I'll try to be as restrained as possible. What's the matter with you, Sylvia; you're not at all the girl you were? I could almost believe that—that you weren't Sylvia after all?'' "Believe what you will," she said. " Only relievo me of your presence. You may go by the way you came—you may creep out like a disappointed thief." The hot blood flew to his face; for one moment Anne thought he was about to strike. "If you go now, and go without more idle parley, you shall be well treated in the matter of money," she said. " But once and for all understand that I will not live with you."

Mr Bretby made no reply. He turned his back on her, went again to the open window and looked out upon the night. The thunder had ceased, but the lightning played almost continuously amongst the great trees. " Nothing in the world will ever affect my decision,'' said Anne. "I am not talking at random—you must and shall believe what I say."

He came again to her side. "If that's your decision, I have nothing to say," he muttered. " I'm not going to start cursing or prophesying—you'll find me quite placable. I can bide my time, Sylvia. I usually do get what I want—l wanted you once and I got. you. I'm not sure, however, that I do want you now. You're so different, so very different. In those days when we were 60 happy you were the most tender and yielding of creatures; now I see some promise of the virago.''

"Why are you wasting words?" said Anne coldly. " Nothing that you can say will ever alter my decison. Go; it is "intolerable that you should stay in the same room!"

He laughed drily, then turned his baek and moved a step or two towards the window. "So you refuse definitely," he said. "And you dismiss me from your house." ■

" T have nothing more to say," 'Anne replied. " Save that I never wish to see you again.'' t He wheeled ronnd suddenly; she recoiled before tho evil triumph in his face. Before she could cry for help ho had covered her mouth and nose with a handkerchief that was saturated with some drug. She strove, to struggle; with each instant if seemed as though the strength left her limbs. At last her movements ceased, and sho fell heavily forward into his arms, to be laid with no little roughness on the settee.

" Poor fool!" he said under his breath. " Tn think of her opposing herself to

The scuffle, slight as it was, had awakened Lady Delaval. As lie stood, looking amusedly upon Anue'6 recumbent

fiiur?. t?.? d'/,r of the drwing room and ?he appfartd tlitre—a slender, fhnEiiiig figure in white. A hoarse svj::d bars: ir.sn her 1!jk; rhe rtrovc to rove for'ar-i. sheri her own £l:ength gave •tay. and the tumbled to the floor. Mr Hrelby v.r.- ui<airare of a ■a'itness until tUirtied bv the nuise of her fall.

"By Jove."' he :-aid. "we shall have io gel out of this! Before daybreak 1 meant to be a hundred miles away!"

He opened a wardrobe, and after throwing «;veial garments upon the floor brought to light a sable motoring cloak. Without any hesitation he fastened this upon Anne, then lifted her in his arms, and carried her to the balcony. Then he took the sheets from the bed, tore them •savagely into strips, and with some difficulty lowered her to the ground, following himself by climbing down the ivy.

■Some short space was spent in untying the knot, then he took her in his arms again, and leaving the garden passed across the park to a strip of woodland that stretched alongside the highway. Now and then he chuckled with the thought of what confusion might already be filling Delaval Hall. CHAPTER XI. When Sylvia recovered consciousness, 6he found the room empty. Some minutes passed before she realised what had happened. She tried the door, found it locked, then stumbled across to the open window. Nothing was to be seen but the dancing forks ot lightning'. For a long while she stood there, gazing blankly. The shock of Anne's disappearance seemed to have deprived her ot the reasoning faculty; it was not until her maid Sorly entered the dressing room that she realised the necessity of some immediate action.

The good woman cried aloud when she found her mistress's bed unoccupied, then she came hastily to the doorway of the bedroom.

"Thank the Lord you're'safe!" she cried, pressing both handrf to a comfortable bosom. "Never have 1 had such a turn in my life! Oh dear, but it has been a night—never in all my time have I been so thankful to see the dawn break! 'Twill bo day in half an hour." Sylvia turned slowly. " Something has happened—something terrible," she hesitated. " I have had a shock "

" Nothing matters so long as your ladyship's cafe," said the maid. " But do you come away from the open window— for sure you'll get your death of cold. Madness, I call it, you standing there with nought but your nightgown on! I wonder at Miss Edegowrth's allowing you, that I do!"

" Miss Edgeworth is gone," moaned Lady Delaval. " I was wakened by a noise, and I got up and saw Mr Bretby in the room, then I remember nothing more!"

" The villain!" said Sorly, turning towards the bed, and seeing that it had not been slept in. "The rank, wicked villain—he's taken her away, thinking she was you. ;A fine kettle of fish, and no mistake!"

She found a dressing gown, and insisted upon her mistress donning, it then and there. " Lady Caroline'll have to be told at once!"

A minute later they passe.d along the gallery to that lady's door. Sorly tapped gently; it was immediately opened by Lady Caroline herself. She was halfdressed—it was apparent that she had not been, able to sleep. "What is the matter?" she said, hoarsely. " Something must have happened j you are both trembling." " She has gone—he has taken her away," stammered Sylvia. " I saw him, but I could do nothing!" "My God!" cried Lady Caroline, wringing her hands. "What must we do? It is too awful to think of!"

"The best I can think of is for the alarm bell to be rung," said Sorly, "and all the servants set a-searching. He can't have got far away with the poor young lady; belike they're in the park still.'' She withdrew. Very soon afterwards the house was filled with the clamour of a great gong. A crowd of men and women in various stages of undress gathered together in the hall. - Lady Caroline gently drew her niece into the bedroom.

" You must stay here, and let me tell them,".she said. ."Don't be afraid, my dear, I've no doubt that all will be well." Despite Sylvia's agitation, her aunt was obliged to leave her alone. After locking the door she went quickly down to the hall.

"Lady Delaval lias disappeared!" she 6aid. " Someone ■ has entered the house and taken hei- away. She must be Bomewhere in the'park. 'Every man must search for her at once!''

Exclamations of distress arose; the young countess being a favourite with 0110 arid all. The women retired to finish dressing; the men rushed out. Lady Caroline went back to her room and found Sylvia kneeling, praying. She stooped and drew her to her feet.

" You m.ustn't' give way, my dear child," she said soothingly. "Remember that we have a secret to keep. I am not afraid of any harm befalling Anne Edgeworth—she is brave and high-spirited

Sylvia covered her face. "We have behaved wickedly to her!" she said. "lb was unpardonable to place her in such a position!'' Nonsense, you are talking wildly. Of course, if we had foreseen what has happened, we should have been altogether to blame. As it is, well, it is very unfortunate, but I haven't the least doubt that she'll be all right-. I shouldn't be at all surprised if she is tound and brought back very soon." " You're not afraid that he'll harm her, Aunt Caroline! Oh, you don't know him as I do. 1 '

"Why, my dear, when you were with liirn; ho never actually abused you. All that you had against him was an unconquerable disgust." " Hut I knew—knew from the first that he was a fiend incarnate. If anything evil befalls her—if lie kills her—it will be I who am her murderer."

" You are hysterical, my dear Sylvia. For Heaven's sake don't speak so' excitedly. Think what a sensation would be made if anyone heard you !'' mean to carry on this folly no longed," said the excited girl. " I shall tell everybody what wo'have done."

Lady Caroline shook her head. "If we have wronged her," she said, " think how infinitely greater would be the wrong if people knew that the girl he had abducted was not. his wife. For the sake of her reputation we must both be silent. The deception—God knows it was intended innocently—must be continued, at any rate until we have news. Here comes Sorly; she will .help vou to dress."

" Ay, that'll be best, my lady," 6aid the maid. "By the time she's fit to go downstairs we shall be likely to hear some news or other."

3ut tho hours passed without any clue being found, and before midday it was decided that since every portion of the park had been Carefully explored, the lady must have been conveyed beyond its confines. The news spread rapidly to the village. CHAPTER XII. When Anne recovered her senses in some measure she found herself lying on a grassy bank that sloped down to a narrow glade. Near by gleamed the head lights of a great motor car; she heard the starting of the engine. She rose tremblingly, and strove to reel into the shadows; but tho next moment Bretby had caught her by the arm.

" No, my dear Sylvia," he said, with a short laugh, "the plot is too pretty for you to mar. We start in another minute —you have still time to bid farewell t-o Delaval."

" Let me go!'' she cried wildly. " You have made a hideous mistake!"

"!A mistake, my girl? You must surely know that I have a right to do what I will with my own. Are you going to deny that you're my wife?"

" I tell you again that you are mistaken," she said. " I warn you that it will be best for you to let me return—at once."

"Why, Sylvia, you miyht be said to have acquired some will-power whilst we've been apart. It is rather piquant— a little of it. But, frankly, I'd rather have you as you were. I don't mean to do you any harm, my darling; I only mean to brine you to a rational frame of

mind. As my wife you have duties that must nut be shirked.''

"I shall not go!" she said. "You cannot force me to go." His paie eyes glinted slrangely in the light of the iamps. " I thought I'd convince you that you had no fay in the matter," he said. " For goodness sake, don't use such a high voice—it would be hateful to find that my wife was a shrew. You needn't imagine that anyone will hear you; that's quite out of the question."

A sturdy young man wearing a soiled canvas coat came from the further side of the car, and speaking in French, assured his master that the car >vas ready. Anne moved forward, passionately appealing to him. Bretby watched her with a smile of amusement. The chauffeur understood nothing. Once more Anne strove to escape; once more Bretby seized her arm.

"My dear!—my dear!" lie expostulated. " Can't you see that it's impossible. Don't oblige me to ask for L'Angellier's assistance; I hate the thought of unnecessary violence.''

The chauffeur opened the door of the car. Bretby put his arm around her waist, and before she had time to struggle she found herself bundled inside. The door dosed with a click; the two men took their places in front, and the car passed slowly down the road. She sought for tho handle, determined' to throw herself out, but found that it had been removed, and that for the present escape was impossible.

"The roads will be perfectly clear, and there are no police traps until we reach the Great North Road," said Bretby to his companion. " There's no reason why we shouldn't do the 100 miles in two hours."

The chauffeur nodded. " Day breaks in an hour or so," he replied, still in hie own language. " I shall be glad when we Come to the flatter country." Now rand then Bretby turned and looked through the glass barrier at Anne's crouching figure. At first her face wa6 ghastly pale, and her eyes were large with horror. But after the first half-hour some self-command returned; she unfastened the'' clasps of her fur coat, and loosely rearranged her disordeied hair. As dawn neared tho lightning ceased to play, and before they had left tho precincts of the hill-country the rain began to fall in torrents.

On and on and on, through villages and small towns, until they reached Sherwood Forest. The car halted for a few minutes in front of a quaint and desertedlookipg red-tiled inn, and L'Angellier went indoors', to return presently with somo petrol. Some minutes later Bretby opened the, door of the car and put insde a packet of sandwiches and a half-bottle of light

" 1 regret that I can offer you no more suitable food," he said with mock courtesy—(Anne moved her hand as though she would thrust his offering aside)— " but please yourself, my dear."

The car started again; in a brief while they were passing through the heart s of tiie woodland. Anne was sick and wretched, but she forced herself to partake of some of the food and wine. Suddenly, near the summit of a slight hill, she heard a sharp report like a rifle shot, and the car, after skidding from side to side of the road, came to a full stop against a grassy bank. Bretby \ind the chauffeur left their seats—a tyre had burst, and they began to replace it quickly.

Anne's heart gave a wild leap; the spring of the near-side door had given way with the stoppage, and it already hung partly open. The two men were on the off-side; although she could see neither, she heard Bretby's muttered imprecation. Her hand pressed the door open, and after one hurried glance, she leaped into the underwood.

The door fell to with a clang; both men sprang to their feet just in time to catch sight of her flying figure; Without a word they started in pursuit. After a few yards 'Anne came upon a track that had been made by the charcoal-burners, and in the vain hope that this must lead to 6ome house, she ran forward, at every moment hearing her pursuers' approach grow nearer. At last 6he came to a sharp turning,' where the- track was crossed by and without pausing for consideration. slio chose to pass along this. Bretby's instinct-was at fault; he went straight forward, and very soon the noise of pursuit was inaudible. In about 100 yards Anne came upon a grassy space that surrounded a monstrous oak with jetblack trunk and foliage green as emerald. An old man was moving round it, carefully examining the iron supports that kept the branches attached to their parent stem. '

" I'd not ha' come out on such a foul day but for fear the ' Mayor's Oak' had been strickon with lightning," ho 6aid, as she approached. "Lord, bless me, miss, I thought 'twas somebody from the village. My eyes is that bad nowadays I can scarce see more nor a few yards. Be you one of them as goes about, in,motor car 6?"

Anne, scarcely knowing what 6he" did, caught his hand—a hand almost as gnarled as the oak itself. "For God's sake, help me to hide somewhere!" she said, hoarsely. " They will be here— they are sure to come soon!''

He looked around wonderingly, then pointed to the tree. "Go you there, miss,"' lie said. '"Tis hollow, and I warrant nobody'll look in it. There's room and to spare."

Anne ran to the trunk, and finding a narrow opening as tall as herself, passed into tho strange interior. The man followed to the portal. " Whate'er is wrong with you, miss?'' he asked. "You look fair scared to death—that you do."

" Get me help of some kind !" she said excitedly. "If there's a village near, bring as many people as you can."

" Edwinstowf-'s a mile away. 1 ' lie said dubiously, " and my limbs aren't what they used for to be. Still, I'll do my best—l can't abear to see the female sex in trouble." ' CHAPTER XIII. The old custodian, filled with self-im-portance, hurried across tho drenched grass and took a path that led to the village. Where this joins tho high road, ho heard tho noise of a motor horn, and recognised one of the principal folk of the neighbourhood, a tall and handsome young man, with a plcasaptly fresh complexion. The car was small, but high-powered, a somewhat shabby racer, that had travelled well over Europe.

"Why, Jenkins!" he cried. "You'd far better keep indoors on such a day as this. It's enough to cripple you with rheumatism."

"It is, and that's gospel truth, my lord," said the old man, "but I couldn't rest with fear of harm, coming to the tree. But, 'tis surely as well as I did step out, for there's someone in vast trouble there. As beautiful a young lady as T ever saw, and hiding herself in the Oak !" The young man switched off the power and alighted. " A beautiful young lady!'' he repeated. " What can she be doing there?" " Nay, that's more than I can tell your lordship. She's none o' those tourists, that I do know. But it to me as slie's in mortal fear o' some evil happening to her. I'm off to Edwinstone to get help." "And I'll go to see what I can do, 1 ' said the other. "It's a queer, story. You're quite sure that you're not dreaming?" " Ive ne'er had dreams o' one so good to look at," said the old man. "By your leave, I'll go on to the village."The stranger ran quickly along the path, and soon reached the tree. Looking through the opening he saw Anne crouching in the furthest corner, her face turned to the darkness. •

"What is wrong?" lie said. "Don't bo afraid; I have come to help you.' 1

She drew herself upright, and approached with trembling gait. " Take me away from here," he said agitatedly. " Anywhere, so that T may be with tlioso who are not enemies."

She stepped out into the rain; he fell back with an ejaculation of surprise. " Why, you are Lady Delaval!" he exclaimed. " You have surely not forgotten me!"

"Y r ou are mistaken,'' she said. t' I have never seen you before. I am in great- trouble; any moment they will be here."

Ho realised that this was no time for explanations. " My car is at some little distance." he said. " Lot uo co to it—l

am driving alone—l can take you at once to l'arnsworth. My mother \e. there; she will be most happy to receive you. YoU can tell us later if vou choose."

A great sigh came from her pale lips. "Let us he quick; if thev find us. they will take me away from you. Oh, you don't know Mr Bretby; nothing can stand in his way."

Without another word he .took her arm in his, and accompanied her in the direction of his car. ISeforc they h.J gone 100 yards, however, they were met by Bretby and the Frenchman, who greeted them with derisive laughter. "So my Sylvia has found another gallant-,'' said Bretby. " I take it as a compliment that she has sufficient charm. And now, sir, I'll relieve you of your charge."

" l'ardon me," said the young man; " but this lady has chosen to place herself under my protection. Be kind enough to move o.ut of the path." " My good fellow," said Bretby insolently; "you are taking too much upon yourself. This lady is my wife." " No matter,'' said the other, " I mean to take her to some shelter. Unless I am greatly, deceived she is Lady Delaval."

" 1 tan set your mind at rest," said Bretby. " She is Lady Delaval. and I am Guy Bretby, her husband. You are young and inexperienced, or you would understand the folly of those who interfere in conjugal disputes." • "In any case, Lady Delaval has placed herself in my care, Mr Bretby, and I shall see her to a place of safety." " You are a most excellent knighterrant," sai ( d Bretby; " but you fail to understand that you might be compelled to yield to superior force. Not that I should like to use extreme measures, but, still, in love and war all things are fair. Be so good as to go away. I myself will conduct' my wife to our car, we need trouble you no more." '

He made a slight gesture which L'Angellier understood aright, for the Frenchman stepped aside, then, turning suddenly, struck this •squire of dames a neat and scientific blow beneath the. chin. He reeled slightly, then pitched head foremost to the grass. Bretby caught Anne's shoulder and dragged her savagely away.

" You stay beside him, L'Angellier, until he begins to come round," he said. "By that time I shall have tjiken madame back to the car."

The chauffeur stood stolidly watching the prostrate -figure. In less than a minute, however, he heard the approach of footsteps, and saw Bevcral labourers, accompanied by a white-haired veteran, hastening along the path. Then he took to his heels, and reached the car just after Bretby had forced lAnne to enter. .

" We must not waste a moment," said Bretby. " The whole placo will be up in arms. The fellow you knocked down is Lord Frederick Worsencroft, the Duke of Doncaster's second son. I did not remember at the time, but I once met him at a shooting box in Scotland. We had better clear off the main road as soon as possible, and use the by-ways until' we're north of York."

" The car started again. For the next few minutes Bretby was busily engaged in examining various maps. It was not until midday that another stoppage was made, near a small and squalid wayside inn, where the men refreshed i themselves in turn. Bretby opened the door, and passed inward a cup of tea and a thick slice of bread and butter.

"A thousand apologies for the coarseness of tHe fare,'' he said, "but needs must when the devjl drives. You had best partake of this; it is unlikely that we shall stop again for refrshment until I have the honour of entertaining you in our—your own home." Anne was too tired to make objection; when lie had resumed his placo, she drank thirstily. The tea was strong and bitter as though overdrawn. Very soon after she had emptied the cup her eyelids closed, and she sank heavily against the cushions. "My lady won't trouble us again for a few hours," said Bretby. " Puk on speed; we shall soon reach' the Great North Road." CHAPTEE XIV. The young man whom the chauffeur had used 'so badly soon recovered his senses, and rose to a half-sitting posture, gazing blankly on the frightened faces of the villagers." Old Jenkins'brought out a queer leather flask, and made him drink soma fiery brandy. "Oh, dear o' me!'' said tho veteran, in a troubled voice,. "Whate'er has come to ns all! First a beautififl young lady in such trouble as I ne'er did see, and now your lordship's taken bad! Is it a fainting bout you've had?" ' "(Nonsense!" said the angry gentleman. " One of those rascals took me unawares —I never had such a' tap in niy life! Where the deuce have they gone?" " That's more nor I or aily of us can 6ay," replied Jenkins. "When we caught eight of you, there was nobody else about. If they've gone, why then, let 'em' go. The slow-murdering thieves " But Lord Frederick 'did not listen to more. "Follow me," he said to the others. "They must have gone in a car. There's some michief afoot; the lady is being carried away against her will." Although his head ached sickeningly, he kept.well in advance of the others, and Coming at last to the road, found the place where Bretby had stopped to replace (he tyre. " They're none," he said to himself, " and I don't know what to do. It doesn't seem a case for the police, and yet Well, I can do'no harm by sending a telegram to her friends. One of Lady Delaval's houses is in Staffordshire—Delaval Hall, I believe it's called.'' He went down the road to where his own car waited, then passed quickly to the post office, where he wrote and despatched tho message. "Have lately seen Lady Delaval with aMr Bretby. Is anything wrong?" He addressed this to the house-steward, and signed it Frederick Worsencroft. Then he went to the " Goat and Compasses," a comfortable village inn, to await the reply. It came within the hour " For God's sake stoa them, Caroline Cassilis," was all it said.

" By Jove, it's setting me ft fine task," said the adventurous young man, " still, whether Bretby's her husband or not, I'm not going to have her abused if I can help it. By Jove, she did look beautiful; a fellow would have a heart of stone who didn't feel, sorry for her. It seems a' wild goose chase to follow 'em, and yet— and yet, well, I've got to <lo it."

Shortly afterwards he started on a vain attempt to discover in what direction Bretby's car had gone. The rain had obliterated the wheel-tracks, and after an hone or two spent in useless inquiries at various villages on the main road, he determined to visit Delaval Hall, and makp inquiries concerning the man's probable destination. It was in mid-afternoon when lie atrived there, to be received by Lady Caroline, who was already dressed for a journey. She was greatly agitated, and met him with something of reproach. " I had hoped-had prayed tliat you would be able to help us,'' she 6aid. ".It is a bitter disappointment." "I am desirous of doing whatever T can," he replied gravely. " But I saw no sense in running about the country without the least clue. Where lias this Bret by taken Ladv IMavnl ?" " It must be to a house in the north of Yorkshire," said she. "I am going there at once. The whole affair is ghastly in the extremo. I wish-more fervently than I have ever wished for anything in my life—that we had not made this stupid blunder. I can never forgive myself. And Sylvia, too, is in a terrible state— the poor child is almost distracted." " I should be glad if you would tell me the story," said Lord Frederick. "If T am to help properly, 1 must know all'. This man Bretbv said tlio Lady Delaval was his wife, if he spoke the truth, I am afraid that we can do nothing." Lady Caroline, after assuring herself that nobody overheard, brought her chair nearer 'his, and took his hand. "It is the strangest tale you ever heard," she said. " Bretby did* marry Lady Delaval —but l)is companion is not his wife." (To be continued.) — Tljc camel is tho only animal that cannot swim. It ifl an extraordinary fact that the moment it loses its footing in a stream, it. turns on its side, and makes no effort to savo itself from drowninfi. .