Lady Trebor's Secret, OR THE MYSTERY OF CECIL ROSSE.

Patea Mail, Volume III, Issue 292, 2 February 1878, Page 4

Lady Trebor's Secret, OR THE MYSTERY OF CECIL ROSSE.

fßv Mas. 11 auitiet Lewis.]

GIIAPTE R LYlll.— contd. l - Miser as she is,” be said to himself, as he walked along puffing at bis cigar, “ the old woman has a conscience, and a terribly inconvenient one I am likely to find it. If there’s to be war —and it looks like war now —and Cecil utterly r Fuses to marry me, I shall have to find other lodgings for her. But where ? That’s the question. I might buy up the old woman Sally. I don’t believe her conscience is made of such rigid material as that of her mistress, The old housekeeper may suggest some place in which I can cage my prize and persecute her into acceptance of me. By Jove, since my discovery of that picture of Sir Albert Trevor in Grotcbeu’s hands, since love and greed unite to urge me on, I’ll stop at nothing— nothing —but lii force Cecil to become my wife ! But my old kinswoman is an arrant coward withal, I must change Cecil s quarters tomorrow !”

\\ r rapped in a sense of false security, Craft on continued his walk to the palace. Then, plunging into a street at right tingles with the Cauongate, lie pursued his stroll, trusting to the deeper gloom of this narrower avenue, and uot pausing again to look behind him. Turning corner after corner, he hurried into the suburbs of the town, and reached, at last, the quiet, green lane, with high banks and hedges, which ran at the foot of Mrs Malson’s

garden. And after him pressed Lord Glenham in close pursuit. The earl did not penetrate far into the lane, pausing in the shadow of a hedge-bank just as Cralton paused before Airs Liaison’s garden-

gate. The villain gave a swift, keen glance up and down the lane, then seeing no one, inserted a key in the lock, opened the door, and passed into the garden. The earl came up rapidly, and arrived at the garden entrance iu time to hear the receding footsteps of Grafton as he neared the house.

The earl tried the door. It was fastened. Ho attempted to scale tiie wall, and being lithe and agile, succeeded in doing so, to tire great detriment of his garments. His hands were protected hy thick gloves, which were torn to shreds by the broken glass on the top of tbo wall, but he heeded no obstacle, and presently dropped safely to the ground within Airs Malson's garden. He paused a moment to take his bearings. Then ho followed the path that led to the house, and came within view of the side door at which Cecil had entered. All was dark and deserted upon this side of the dwelling. He passed around to the main entrance. A light streamed from between the folds of the heavy curtains of Airs 2ilalson’s morning room. Other lights gleamed faintly from the upper windows. Lord Glenham boldly mounted the steps of the main porch and sounded the knocker loudly. After a brief delay, during which he repeated hj is summons more peremptorily, steps wore heard upon the bare, floor of the hall within, and a voice demanded who wus there. The carl replied by a third cannonading with the knocker. There was some hesitation, a sound of parleying, the rattle of bolts, bar, and chains, and then the door was opened cautiously to the extent of a lew inches, and old Sally peered out, again demanding who was there. “ I am Lord Glenham,” replied our hero, quietly. “ I wish to see Aliss Rosso.”

The housekeeper, in indecision, turned to question her mistress, who had advanced into the hall. The earl put bis shoulder to the door and cooly entered the dwelling, “ I beg your pardon for my unceremonious entrance, madam,” he said, courteously, rom wing his hat, and fixing Ids gaze upon the aged mistress of the .house, “ but I must see Aliss Boss© .immediately !”

Before M rs Malsou could answer, ■tliore was a rustling sound above, a struggle between Cecil and Grafton, both of whom had opened their doors in alarm, and then Cecil, her red-brown hair streaming, her face wild, startled, ;bnt luminous in its splendid beauty, came •flying down the stairs. “ Grafton, cursing, followed her. Cecil approached within a few paces of the carl, and stood, pale as death, while he, not less pale, Held out his arras to her in a joy’too great for words. u Stand back, ray lord !” cried old -Gretchen, sternly. “ How dare yon come lie re? How dare you look at Miss Cecil like that—you who are a married man?’’ “ Married? I married?” “ Yes, to Lady Trevor,” said Gretaken. fiercely. Oh, Mr Grafton has told us all about it. We know your deceptions —” The * arl turned to Cecil, las fair face ,■ with passionate love and tender- ■* ,t f, not he said. itrpetuonsiy, “ t am not married! I never loved anyone but yon, Cecil. Come to me, my darling. Come!” Ha still held out his arms to her.

The girl hesitated, trembled, then, with a strange, glad cry, sped forward, and was clasped to his breast. There was a long silence, during which Grafton gnashed his teeth in an awful fury, while Mrs Malson and her servant had stared, with a dawning comprehenof the truth.

“ Get Miss Cecil’s bonnet and wraps!” said the earl, at last arousing himself, and turning to Gretchen. The woman obeyed. £ * And now, false friend,” said Lord Glenham, calmly, turning to Grafton a stern and sorrowful visage, “we part here for ever! After all your baseness and treachery, we can never meet again. I leave your punishment to your own conscience.”

Grafton made no answer. A wild idea of attacking his kinsman and knocking him senseless occurred to him, but the earl was stronger than he. He put his hand towards his bosom in quest of a revolver, but old Sally, who bad been watching him, seized upon him with the grasp of a grenadier and held him as in a vice.

“ There’ll be no murder done here,” she muttered. “ Go, my lord. There’s the key of the front gate on a nail near the door. Go !”

The earl needed no second bidding. Taking Cecil upon his arms, and followed by Gretchen, he hurried down the front garden and into the street!

CHAPTER LIX. DISPOSED OF. It was evening. Lady Trevor was alone in her drawing-room. She was expecting Mr Pulford, and had denied herself to all visitors but him. The, apartment was brilliantly lighted, and she wore a magnificent toilet in honor of his coming. Diamonds, set in quivering sprays, glittered in her black hair, and diamonds, in rivers of light, encircled her throat, her arms, her fingers. 'Air Pulford liked display, and she had adorned herself as a bride for her lover. But her face was not like that of a bride. Her hard black eyes glittered with a strange and sinister light. Her handsome features wore a hard and desperate expression. She was restless and uneasy, starting; nervously a/t every sound, and now and then her hand unconsciously moved to her breast, clutching at the two death-laden phials hidden beneath the folds of lace and velvet. Unable to sit down quietly, she paced the entire length of the room again and again, and approached one of the windows, parting the curtains and staring intently into the street. “ He ought to be here,” she muttered, restlessly. “He telegraphed that he would arrive in London this morning. What if he has failed, alter all ? But failure is impossible ! He has succeeded—and his success is his deathwarrant !” She resumed her uneasy march to and fvo, setting her full, red lips together in a grim and rigid line. Suddenly, as she walked, with bent head, at the far end of the apartment, she beard the sound of an arrival, the closing of the outer door of the dwelling, and the tread of feet in the hall. She started and advanced, swiftly down the room, arriving midway its splendid length as the door opened and Mr Pulford entered her presence. He paused an instant, as if dazzled by her appearance, and then burned forward to greet her. She submitted to his enibr;ico ? but did not return it. “ When did you return from Scotland ?” she asked, as he released her, and she retreated a few paces from him. “ This morning,” he answered. “I was dead tired, completely used up, and have lain in bed ail day. How magnificent you look, Edith ! Like a very queen ! Is all this splendor for rny eyes, or have you company ?” and he glanced around him hastily. “ I dressed for your eyes, Horace,” said the widow, with hypocritical kindness. “ 1 will see no visitor this evening but you !” Pulford looked at her sharply. This new amiability on her part took him by surprise. She had rebelled against a marriage with him; she had treated him with scorn and contempt; ho had heard her unwomanly avowal of love for Lord Glenl.am, and her declaration of hatred for himself; he had read her aversion to him in her eyes: and, having endured so much, had resigned himself to her present hatred, promising himself revenge upon her when he should become her lord and master. Her new kindness made him suspicious.

“ You are not yourself to-night,” he observed, cynically. “ It is not like you to deck yourself in war-paint and feathers simply for my eyes. tVhat does it meam, my dear Edith? What treachery are you up to !” The widow winced slightly. Could he read her soul ? She pretended to pout, to hide her quick apprehensiveness, and said, as if aggrieved : " Treachery? How can yon accuse me of treachery? I don’t protend to love you; I don’t pretend that a marriage with you is to my liking, but since you went away 1 have resigned myself to the inevitable. X am too proud to let people think me an unwilling bride. If I must marry yon. I will appear willing and happy. And, besides,” she added, with seeming frankness, “ I am not so unwilling as I was. Lord Glenliam scorned my love, and I want him to see that I

am not wearing the willow for him. And more than all, I have suffered so much anxiety in regard to that girl, that I am glad to marry you out of sheer gratitude for ridding me of her.” This explanation seemed plausible. Pulford’s suspicions were disarmed. “ I am glad to see you sensible at last,” he remarked. “ I love you, Edith, and nothing on earth would ever tempt or compel me to let go my hold of you; so, you see, you do well to resign yourself to the inevitable.” They had seated themselves, side by side, upon a sofa. And now Lady Trevor asked the question that bad occupied her waking moments for days, and that bad trembled on her lips from the moment of Pulford’s fate, unknown to himself, depended. “ Tell me,” she whispered, “ what was your success? Is the girl alive or dead?” “ Dead !” answered Pulford, with sinister exultation. “ Dead, my dear Edith !” “ Dead !” The woman trembled with her great and evil joy ; her dark face flamed, and one trembling hand flow to her breast and clutched at the death-laden phials hidden there. “ You did not suppose that I would fail to accomplish the object of my journey, I hope, Edith ? 1 never fail in anything I undertake,” said Pulford, complacently. “ The girl is not only dead, but her body is obliterated —not a bone so big as that diamond pendant on your necklace remains of her.” Lady Trevor stared incredulous. fTO CE CONTINUED.J