THE LOVE CHASE.

Otago Witness, Issue 2504, 19 March 1902, Page 59

THE LOVE CHASE.

By IS THEE MILLER,

Author of "Should She Have SpokenV " The Quicksands of Life,'' etc , etc. [COFYEIGIir.]

CHAPTER XXIII — -SAVILLES UNEASINESS REVIVES. P« GEORGE DALBIAC wfc an agreeable host ; people did just as they liked, and the party was chosen by a m m ot the world. Saville ■« o-s appropriated, ib was true, and Ronald had only half a lung, but both, the brothers \\ ci c good company. The yacht put out for Cors.ca and Sardinia. "Thue js no ie^t so perfect," said Sir Gemge, "a> one gets at sea. No letters, n<jgelegiam<-. Our dearest friend might be dead or our last love married to another, <\nd we shouldn't know it!" .A slight twinge contracted Saville's face, and lit smiled w ith .some difficulty. 'We aie not s-u cut oft" fiom the world n- .ill that. I hope. Our letters will follow us fiom Villefumche." "fh°y will nirs us, of course," .said Sir Geoige* lazily. "I can rev upon it with a serene heart '" "You are not in love, obviously,' said a pittlv little blonde, with an arch ghmce at HdviHe. •"Pooi Mr Carew ! V7hat a shame "Oh, never mind me," said Savil'.e. "Lady Audain, ask Dalbiac if he has ever been in love.' Sir George, who was reclining in a deck chair, with his straw hat pulled over his eyes, s-hot a sharp glance at Saville under the brim. Did he mean anything? Did he know about Hilda? "Of course, I've been in love," said Sir George — "dozens of times. lam in love now — with Lady Audain !" •'Oh, you careful man," said her ladyship. ''You know that I am the most married woman of your acquaintance ! ' "I always like to be on the .safe side. I'm such a coward," he said plaintively. '•This," said Lady Audain, "i* a conupting conversation before the child— l meai before Mr Caren ! Saville. go away, and v.iite to your .sweetheart — like j good boy. * Kdville laughed gmly. "You cai 't diaw me with chaff." he said. '"I am engaged, and 1 like it, and I wouldn'«( change places with any man alive — cer-1 tainly not with that hard-hearted cynicf there" in his chair! He thinks he's happv^

because he is free, poor chap, ana Tie cfcesn't pven know "what happiness means !"' "Then you advise jneto marry, eh?"' "Certainly," Baid Saville, with the brisk tonfidence of a lover. "Find some good girl ■who'll love you for yourself alone, and make her happy!" "Perhaps I'll take your advice some day," (Said Dalbiac, slowly. "Lady Audain, -will you look out for me? I want somebody just like yourself!" i. "You impudent hypocrite," she said, ''I 'don't believe lam your style at all. Now •I come to think of it" — she laughed — "I lave heard you admire Miss Cheverley very much, and she's not at all like me!" Dalbiac's teeth clenched under his moustache. .His long body, disposed at such fease in the chair, stiffened to tension. This chattering fool of a. woman ! He could iave shaken her. Again he glanced at Sa•ville. ! "Yes, I certainly admire Miss Cheverley,'' ihe said ; "I think we all do. lam not uncommon in that respect. Beg pardon, Carew!" '• '"Don't mention it, my dear fellow," said JSaville good-temperedly. I "Look how the proud proprietor is beamIng!" said the malicious Ronald. ! Dalbiac heaved himself out of his chair tend lighted a cigar. "He knows nothing.'' he thought. "She &» a girl in ten thousand He smiled pr. the wrong fcide of his mouth. "I am glad to be sure of it. anyhow. That fool of <t woman has been nitre useful to me unconsciously than '» wise man could have been." A 1 oud he said : '"By the way. what has become of yon Keller? Has anybody seen him lately?' .The digression changed the smile on Saville's face into a frown. The connection between Hilda and yon Keller was such a. sore subject to lain that he could no* help wondering why his fiancee's name Bhoit'd suggest the German's to Sir George "I saw him a few days ago," he sa d. "He was on the point of leaving England." '"Broken-hearted? " queried Si Gtsige. "What do you mean?' '"Oh. nothing.'' Dalbiac l.iughfd. "You Bo ft get me to tel t-iles out of school ""Now 1 in^i't upon having Jit end of tha story," fc< >: .d Lady Audain. "What story?" '"Why should Herr yon Keller be bickenlicirced''" '"Write and ask him," suggested Siv George flippantly. Seville did not s-mile. A pj^ing vessel cicated a dlveiSion, and the subject was dropped. Aftei wards Saville said to Dalbi-ic a.-ide : "Did that reinaik of your'- about yon Krlle:' have anything to do with Miss Che Veriey ? " "Hullo, jealous!'" thought Da'biac. delighted. Fate could not ha\e phiyed into his hands more tenderly. "I :ini soviv that f mentioned the matter," he said. "It wa«. ft slip. I would rather not talk about it.' .Saville opened his eyes. Da'biac had )ni s taken the foundation of his interest. He lied not been jealous hitherto, only cuiious. iNow his heart throbbed a little. "Why not?" he asked. "It would be no-thing-to my fiancee's d'.«ciedit if yon Keller Idid care for her."' "Of course not." said Sir George. '' A beautiful woman is like an expcit fi'-hei-£iian -. she can't help angling ! ' Savfllc flushed. "That isn't a very pretty wav of putting It, Dalbiac. She isn't a flirt." Sir George laughed with a fine air of good-humoured badinage, and slapped Sa vile on the back. "No," he said. ''I dreamed that affecting little scene in the conservatory, when lie pressed her fallen glove to hi« heart and she allowed him to kiss her hand !" "How was it," asked .Saville, "that you icame'to be there?" "I happened to stroll in at an inopportune moment, and the young lady withered me magnificently. lam sure she hated me for the iest of the visit, though I ne\er «poil sport if I can help it. Live and let lire, you know !'' Savil'e was very angry — too angry to Bpeak. Dalbiac had no business to tell tun this. A spiteful woman might have taken advantage of the opportunity, but a man of the world should have had more cense. Was it true? Under ordinary circumstances he would have dismissed the incident as a bit of girlish coquetiy on Hilda's part and exaggeration on that of Dalbiac, Who \vb< naturally malicious Hut, knowing what be knew* he could not help bro<San t : over it. Tn public Hilda had never Booked at yon Keller, and he had never Hooked at her in the wav of love Why, Mien, should she have allowed him Ur kiss her hand in private? The little scene Dal biac had retailed was unpleasantly suggestive of hypociisy — and it was «-o c-«enlial t-i his peace of mind that nothing should disturb his theory of the theft— that the 'stolen uiby should be the one fact it was hecessary to explain away. "Of course, Dalbiac may not have seen jinvthing of the sort,"' he told himself. 'The man is a wasp. But why should he tell a deliberate lie in order to annoy me? the notion i*. scarcely feas-ible " He gnawed ni- moii-tav.he. "I wonder wLmi this happened — before or after the hvpnoti^m pffjn? Bosh ' why should I wonder about It at all? She couldn't hdp it if yon Keller was in love with her "' Nevertheless he continued to wonder ft'he seeds of mischief had been sown in a fcoil far more prolific than even Dalbiac had £n>agin°d. She h«>d told him nothing about it, even "afterwards ; it was that which made him uncomfortable, though the incident might 'have been more trivial than Dalbiac made out. -Why the secrecy? ■ It was evening — a moonlight night — and ias he leaned upon the taffrail a cool breeze tfapned his forehead and the phosphorus played on the oily surface of the sea. Yes, why the secrecy? Had she been ashamed to tell him that the had amused herself with yon Keller, after discovering •what sort of man he was? There must have been something, at any rate, which she lnijzht have mentioned, ,

He had been under the impression that a perfect confidence existed betwier them, and found to bis chagrin that ehe - was capable of a petty concealment after all. It was not pleasant to discover that she could deceive him so easily — that she had any wish to do so. Such an incident argued a trivial nature which might stoop lower still. " Oh, lam mad Vhe thought. " Because a girl is a coquette, need she be a thief?" He knew even as he argued with himself that it was not the act itself which disturbed him 60 much as the deceit of it Though the thing itself, if true, were bad enough. Only a women insincere and cunning could have carried on an unsuspected flirtation with another man tinder his eyes. The gleaming surging water dazzled him. This morning he had been sure of heT ; this evening — it was but the idle tale of a stranger which had set doubt, conjecture, and uncertainty loose in his mind once more. There had been poison in Dalbiac's smiling words, which was rankling and rankling. He 6tartled slightly to find Sir George beside him. The other man's voice sounded a little mocking. "Well, faithful lover, are you concocting sonnets to your mistress's eyebrows, and wi«hing you were home again? Saville stood up, with a forced smile. " I was admiiing the night," he said. "What are you all doing?" "-Lady Audain has been telling my fortune with cards in the saloon. She says that the less anybody ha-- to do with me the better, and that' I shall die a violent doth at 51. I have noticed that amateur fortune-tellers are so much more unpleasant than piofessionals — on the principle of nothing for nothing. I suppos°. Youi brothei ib being victimised now . Will you come be'ow and patronise the seer?" •■ Not me," (-aid Saville, " I have no faith, I fear." " Haven t you?" said Dalbiac. in a lowtone. "I think you have a creat deal." A silence fell between the two men. Saville. whe had been holdmg his bieath, expelled it soitly A cloud Idee a film of gauze veiled the moon. Mi-- Cheviot** fhrill Amencan voice disturbed them. "" What arc you doing there in the dark, • you couple of owls? You can t be flirting with each other! Mr Caiew, Lady Audain siy- you are to come down at once and have \om foitune to!d. We've all been done, .md we are feeling l o bad.' "Really. Mr- Cheviot " "Don't be selfish," s-aid the lady. ''Gome along " She dragged him below. Dalbiac followed more leisurely. "" He doe-nt like it."' he mused. " Every shot tells. I thought he had more backbone. Uc is so law and easily touched up that one could almost imagine he knew -cinetiiing himself! Certainly they had a low. Ah, Hilda. Hilda, I am afraid you are a naughty girl !' Whe.i he reached the saloon, Lady Audain was laying out the cards, Vhh Saville on , her right hand at the table. " Let me see," she said. " I want another packet, don't I? That's it. Now then. . ." ■" 1 had a fortune left to me," said Blayne of the Artillery, sticking his glass in his eye " Don't give him a fortune. Lady Audain. He doesn't deserve it. I don't believe he's got a debt in the world ! Mrs Cheviot, will you swop your 'long voyage' for my 'trip in a balloon?'" " I 'guess I'm not taking any stock in balloon* just now."' said the lady. "I'll take a motoi. if you like." " Don't lv silly", children ; and leave oft chattering," said Lady Audain. "Of courZ-e, it's quite fair. H'm ! ... I see a storm y fnluie for you."

-Hootay!" shrieked Blayne. "Give him bean- ! " " I am afraid."' said the fair seer, puckering hei brow under her golden fringe, "that a s.riuus misfoitune is about to befall you. What's this? The knave of hearts,? Hearts, dear me! The misfortnne will have something to do with a love affair. Beware of a blond man with blue eyes." "Oh. Miss Cheverley!" exclaimed the irrepressible Blayne, in mock consternation. " Name, Lady. Audain, name ! Then Carew can go and bieak his head at once, and save time " " After thi« misfortune, continued her ladyship, " the luck seems to change. I see a successful career, either in politics or the law. and money. Yes, before you aie 40, you will succeed to a fortune. You will mari\ lather late in life — not for love, — and yon will have two children

" In 20 years, if we are both alive at that dale, I shall tell you whether you are right or wi-0112. Lady Audain. " stud Saville. -Meanwhile I'll convey your warning to my fiancee!"

There wa< a laugh. "Well, 1 must s-ay that you have a good tompii," '•aid Mrs Cheviot, sweetly. "I shoii'd have flung the caids at her if T had been a young man in love. I don't know your fiancee. Come and tell me all about her Captain Blayne, you aie sitting on my shawl."

Mrs Cheviot took Saville on deck, and Lady Audain followed them, accompanied by Dalbiac.

"""Have I clone well?" she whispered.

" Excellently. Thanks. "Now will you tell me what your motive is? "' "Ah." he Minled. la-ing a finger. "eunoMty is the bane of youi >cx, dear lady !" She pouted. "You said you'd tell me aftcrwaid«. It isn't f.ui '

"•Well," btL;an Sir George in a slow, solemn tone, ' jou mibt know that it is my ambition always to pay my debt- "' " What a strange man '"' said her ladyship. " And 'what has that to do w ith fortune-telling iind Mis-s C'heverley?" "Carew picktd me up rather fchaiply thi« morning over a Latin quotation. He shall have a bad night in exchange, thinking over what could, would, or should come to pass if there were anything at all in the absurd nonsense of fortune-telling by cards ! Of course, hes not suDerstitious — none of us arel"

Lady Audain's musical laugh floated over the deck. " You cynic," she said. '" It's too bad. I've a mind to tell the poor boy it wasn't genuine." "Do you imagine that lie would thank you?" asked Sir George. "He would hat? you for daring to imagine that he needed an antidote ! Besides " — his rather fine eyes made the most of the light over their heads, and into his voice there crept a caressing note — " lam sure you wouldn't betray me !" Her lip* parted over her white te:th. He offered her Ins arm. and they went for a otroll on deck together. Her husband was a long way off. and she admired Sir George, bscaus? she was soft and silly, and he was hard and clever enough to drive a dozen such a« she was in a team. A poor woman must amuse heiself in this dull world. CHAPTER XXIV.— THE POISON WORKS. j It befell precisely a* Dalbiac had prophesied. Saville, who was not in the least superstitious, lay awake till 3, listening to the odd creaks and groans which a vessel team-s with at night, and thinking about L»dy AudanVs " nonsense." "A blond man with blue eye.-.' That might be yon Kellei. or a mere coincidence If the latter, there was nothing remarkable about it, because in for-tune-telling " he " must always be either fair or daik ; if the former, Dalbiac had probably '" put up "' the entertainment in order to amuse himself at his guest'o expense, and told Lady Audain what to 'say. " Ye<. that it, it."' he thought. "He saw that I was annoyed about yon Kellt-i . and doesn't know with how mucl ied«on. and he is having me out, the beast !" He was such a stoic, however. If only Hilda h,id told him that yon Keller had been making love to her ! There would hive been nothing in that incident of the conservatory then. The secrecy — the «ecrec\ — -how he bated it! Once more, it '•cein.-'d, hei conduct was mysterious ; once more there was something behind a curtain which puzzled him to make out It might be. of course, that Dalbiac's story was an invention altogether. He was a gentleman of Satanic humour. - "Only in that case,"' pursued Saville, "why should he pick upon yon Keller? It can't be chance that he should select yon Keller, of all the men at Closter*. as the hero ef the story." No, he must have seen ■something. It's true."' He turned and twisted on his narrow couch. It was hot in the cabin ; the light breeze had fallen and the air seemed too lazy to enter through the open porthole. The man felt feven-h. He could not throwoff the morbid ideas w Inch beset him ; his brain was working without volition, almost as though he were delinous-. He wa» sorry that .he had yielded to Ronald's persua<" ns to leave home, and wished himself back in London with all his heart. The sight of Hilda would cure these wdd suspicions. The glance of her clear eyes, the touch of her hand, would restore jiim to his normal sanity and comprehension. Perhaps he had got a touch of fever in his blood. It had been so charming in the few delightful days of their reunion. So many times slie had told him how happy it made her to think that they understood each other perfectly at last, and that there was, nothing to come between them.

It would' not be possible, surely . for a girl to be cunning enough to talk as she did msincerelv?

" I don"t believe it — T won't believe it," he told himself. '" Dalbiac is. choosing to amuse himself at my expense. We never hit it off very well. I don't know why he asked me to come."

In the morning Dalbiac looked at him with a quizzical expression. "Well, how did you sleep?" he asked. "Very will," replied Saville, winch was a lie. " 1 was afraid Lady Audain's di.smal prophecies would keep you awake. ' Beware of a blond man with blue eyes!'"

" I am not superstitious, thanks,"' said Saville, gruffly. . "Of course not,' said Lady Audrini, in a soothing tone. " What can the cards know about anything? I don't believe in it myself." She caught Dalbiac's eye. and shook with laughter. A couple of days later they touched at a port, and Saville received a letter from Hilda. She wrote most affectionately, and was looking forwJid to his return. It was ■so dull without him. He kissed the letter " Dalbiac it. a mischief-maker," he said. " She is a good girl, and she was hypnotised when &he stole the ruby. No other explanation is possible. I don't believe that ■•he ever allowed yon Keller to mike love to her."'

At luncheon, when everybody was talking about the mail, Dalbiac turned to Saville with a peculiar air "Well," he said, "any sign« yet of the blond man with the blue eyes?" "She doesn't mention him in her letter, but then she would scarcely warn me of his arrival, would she?"' answered Carew equably. "As he exists in your imagination —or Lady Audain's. which is it? — you may be better informed."

Sir George laughed. "I hear," he said, "that Mi«. Chcverley was at the Sr. James's the other night, and that the has been in the Row soveial time:with Vhian Tallantiie. 'While the cat's away,' }uu know • But Tallantire is dart."

" I don't expect my fiancee to herself up like a nun becau.-e I happpu to go abroad." said Saville. " She is quite light to amuse herself."

He had kept his temper wonderfully; but Dalbiac's in.-inuations were becoming insufferdble. and must be checked. He spoke lo Ronald about it later on.

" You know Dalbiac better than I do, anil you could easily like him more. Why the dickens is he always hitting at Hilda? Theie is a nasty tone about his lemarks. One would think that he bore one of us a grudge of some kind. I don't want to have a row with him on. his owr- yacllt^ kut if lie dws.ii" i fcbut Wi.lt YriH..SBBiBt 4

" Ronald sneered. ' '' You challenge criticism, you and your self-satisfaction. He knows what humbugs women aie." '" Hilda isn't a humbug," said Saville, hotly.

" Oh, as long as you are satisfied," &aid Ronald with a disagreeable smile.

CHAPTER XXV.— 'SHE LOVES ME! SHE IS TRUE." " More champagne, Carew ?" sa:d Dalbiac, passing the magnum. Saville helped himself and sent the bottle

.Sir George was celebrating his birthday. He said he was 31, amid a howl of disbelief. "Of course you only look five-and-twenty, said Blayne, " but I was at Eton with you, sonnie, and you were five years older than me, then, and I was 31 last June. ' "This candour," murmured Lady Audain. "is appalling. I hope it won't spread. I never went to school with anybody, thank goodness. I had a governess at home. Isn t somebody going to propose his health, and wish him long life and luck? How slow you men are! I shaH-have to stand up mylelf." In the midst of the popping of coiks Blayne rose and held forth. He had boisterous spirits which passed for wit. and there were a good many "dead men" in the background, so everybody was in the mood to laugh. Even Saville, who had «at down to dinner rather quiet and absent-minded, woke up under the genial influence of th? champagne. He had drunk more than he knew, as a matter of fact. He had not noticed how main- times the head steward had silently filled up his glass. All he was conscious of was that the depression of renewed uneasiness about Hilda A\hieh had bes-'et him during the last few days was being succeeded by a pleasant glow ofjeomfort and well-being, and that gldomy thouglu* were being sponged from the tablet of his memoiy with every successive draught "Fill up, Carew," said Dalbiac. "How abstemious you arci" "Do you want to make me drunk?" said Saville, laughing and covering Ins glass with his lia'nd. '"No, I won't" have any moie, thanks:." "Nonsense." said Dalbiac. "You haven't had any yet." He peisisted, and it would have beer ungracious to refuse. 'The rest of the r artv had become a little uproarious, in fact. The women belonged to -a "rapid"' set. Saville did not mean to touch the wine, but when somebody proposed a toast, he forgot, and diank it off, and immediately a quiet han'l was stretched out behind him to fill the empty glass once more.

' .Stop that !" cried Saville,

"Why '£' , asked Dalbiac,% who ., seemed itv,particularly'good spirits to-night. "Drown. dull care, man. A fool's paradise is better than none !"' Saville's expression changed "What do you mean by that?" he asked. The ladies rose at thi,s moment, and Dalbiac laughed without answering. Afterwards Saville returned to the charge. He had chaiiged his seat for the one next to his host.

"I wish you would tell me what you mean by remaiks such as the one you have just made,"' he said in an undertone "Why are you always dropping disparaging hints about, Miss Chever'ey, and doing your best to make me thoroughly uncomfoi table about the girl I am going to marry?" It was. not the best place or the be<-t opportunity for a private conversation on such a delicate matter, but he was always hot and quick, and the champagne in h.s head robbed him of even bis usual discretion.

Dalbiac took hi.s cigar from hi* mouth and knocked off the a<-h reflectively. Ho looked straight <it the \oiing man.

"I have no objection whatevei to exji\iining myself," he replied, "but you might not like by explanation, and I don't want to cause an unfriendly termination to a friendly excursion. I would rather you found out the truth for yourself."

"And I would rather you told me to what you allude." said Saville. "You ha\e s-nid too much and not enough. You can't .stop

"Can't !" repeated Sir George tauntingly.

"If you do," flashed Saville. "I shall be obliged to conclude that a great deal is being made of nothing!"

"Steady, there, steady," said Blayne, getting up. Unconsciously their voices had risen, and the other men had left off talking. The atmosphere was hot, and heavy with the perfume of southern flowers- which adorned the saloon, and Seville's face was a hale flushed. (To be continued.)