The Unknown Bridegroom

Pelorus Guardian and Miners' Advocate., Volume 20, Issue 38, 18 May 1909, Page 7

The Unknown Bridegroom

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OK, THE MYSTERIOUS WEDDING RING.

My the Author of "Stella,"- "Two Keys," Etc., Etc.

■ PART 11. "Uncle Robert. I want to leave Rome at once. 1 shall never know another moment of peace until I get awav Horn this dreadful place." Thus spoke Florence Richardson as she sat, pale and heavy-eyed, at the breakfast table in the private diningroom of the Sea vers at the Quirinal, on the' morning following her exciting experience at the masked ball. "Well, well, you shall do just as vou like, my dear," her guardian returned, indHlgently. "When would you like to start ?" "To-day, if possible ; the sooner the better," said Florence, with a shiver.

Mr. Seavcr flew about all day, making ready for their sudden departure, settled all bills, and made some hurried purchases of paintings, bric-a-brac, etc., that he had had his eye upon for some time, and finally booked places for the following afternoon in a trai " # oin S direct to Genoa, whence he intended to proceed to Paris.

On the morning of the day of their departure Mr. Heaver met Sir Walter Leighton on the Corsi, and informed him of the unexpected change in their plans. The two had become very friendly of late, and on one occasion, when the young man had opened his heart to the lawyer, and pleaded his love for his ward, the man had promised to use his influence with Florence to persuade her to become Lady Leighton.

The baronet looked dismayed upon learning that they were to leave Home so soon, and the cause of their sudden departure. After questioning him, to gain the details, he inquired : i "Where do you go from here ?" I "To Paris," Mr. Seaver replied. I "How lon3 will you remain there ?" I "A couple of months, I think. Of course, we shall run about a good deal, but Faris will be our headquarters. We shall have to get back to Fnglancl about June 1, as I must he homeward bound by the middle or last of July." Sir Walter then insisted that the party would visit at Worthing Towers, and remain his guests for some time. That afternoon the Seavers and thejr ward left for Paris.

Sir Walter met them at the station to see them off, and took a tender leave of Florence, murmuring some words in her ear at the last moment which told her that he still entertained the hope that he should yet win her as his wife. ******

Let us now go back to the day when Monica and Inez met in the shop on the Via Eabuino. We know how the former eluded her cousin, and was rolling rapidly towards the Pincian Hill in Mrs. Sidney's carriage, when her cousin reached the street in pursuit of her. She was so agitated when she sank upon the seat beside the maid that the woman regarded her with astonishment. "What is the matter, Miss ?" she inquired. : "Nothing serious, only I have had quite a fright," Monica responded, and no more was said about the matter. . But upon reaching home Monica confided in Mrs. Sidney, and expressed the fear that Inez and intLer, having learned of her presence in Rome, would leave no stone unturned to recapture her, and perhaps doom her to even a worse fate than confinement in a sanatorium. "Then we will go away at once, my dear," said her kind iriend ; "but I do wish you could hear from that young man to whom you wiote."

"August? Yes, it is very strange that I have received no reply to my letter," replied Monica, with a blush and a look of keen pain leaping into her eyes. Mrs. Sidney began that very day to arrange for their return to Naples, but she was taken very ill the following day, and in less than a week had closed her eyes for ever on all things earthly. She seemed to know from the first that she could not reoover, and calmly made all arrangements for herself, for Monica, and her maid. She desired to be quietly buried in the Protestant cemetery until her children could attend to the removal of her remains to England. Sho made her will, forgetting no one of her bequests, and settled a handsome sum upon Monica, that she might have means to help her win back her fortune.

She wished her, attended by the maid, to return immediately to England, and upon her arrival in London, go directly to her son and ask his assistance' in bringing her treacherous cousin to speedy justice. Monica, assisted by the private secretary to the English Consul, who had been very kind to her during this time of trouble, carried out the wishes of her friend regarding her burial, a nd then, upon the afternoon following this sad event, with a- heavy a 'wart as she had ever I noun. 'llllll*l her face towards England, little dreaming of the wonderful revelations that were •awaiting her on the way thither.

CHAPTER XXII. "IF IT HE J. THEN WHO ARE YOU ?" The Seaveis left on Thursday rvftcriaoon, and it was with a ]on S breath of relief and a much lighter heart than she had known since the bal masque that Florence heard the last signal given and felt the train moving out of the station. Every mile traversed served to lift more and more the cloud that had settled upon her, and when, as they reached Civila Vecchia, their ran along the shore of the beautiful, Mediterranean, where the scenery is charming, her colour returned, her even sparkled with delight and their old brilliancy, aud her .merry.

laugh frequently rippled ot'er her, lips, her friends congratulated themselves that they had acceded to her request to leave Rome. They all retired early, for they were wearied after their hurried efforts to get away that day, and Florence slept soundly and sweetly the whole night through. She awoke long before the sun was up, and, lifting \ the curtain tor the ! window of her sleeping-berth, lay for \ a long time watching the lovely scenery along the shore of that deep, deep blue sea. * "We must be getting near to Ge-. noa," she said to herself, when nearly a n hour had passed thus. "I' believe I will get up and dress before auntie awakes, and then she can have the toilet-room to herself."

Suiting her action to her words, she gathered together her toilet articles, and, slipping quietly out of her berth, made her way to the dressing-room. She found it locked. Some one had secured it before her. Shi stepped back to a window, and while she waited stood w'atching the sea, which seemed like a sheet of azure velvet spread out before her, and tipped here and there with a silvery sheen where the sunlight glinted on it. She stood thus for, perhaps, ten minutes, feeling very peaceful and happy, and softly humming an Italian air which she had recently learned.

Then she heard the key turn in the lock behind her, the door of the toilet-room opened, and she swung round to be ready to pass in as soon as the present occupant should came out. But a look'of blank astonishment suddenly overspread her features, and for a moment she was struck dumb with wonder.

"Why !" she breathod, in a scarcely audible tone.

"Why !" was echoed, with no less amazement, by the lovely girl who confronted her. And it was not strange, either, for Florence Richardson and Monica Kintr, each the very counterpart of the " other in all save dress, stood face to face, while each girl for the moment seemed to be gazing at her own reflection in a mirror.

Florence was the first to recover herself. "I beg your pardon," she said, with a smile of charming frankness, "but, really, this singular encounter almost takes my breath away, and makes me doubt if I be I."

"It is certainly very wonderful that we, who are'utter strangers, should look so much alike," replied Monica, while she studied the countenance of her double with earnest scrutiny. "And I am sure you must be an American, like myself ?" said Florence, inquiringly. "Yes ; at least, my parents were both Americans. I was born in Mexico," responded Monica.

"Are you going back to America soon?" queried Florence, who was growing more and more interested in her companion.

"I—cannot tell at present," said Monica, hesitatingly ; "but I am now on my way to England." "Shall you go to Paris ?" "We shall pass through Paris." "Oh, then we shall perhaps be companions for some time yet," said Florence, brightly, and wondering who else comprised "we ;" "and if you are agreeable, we will by-and-by talk more about our singular resemblance to each other." "Yes, certainly ; I shall be glad to do so. It seems as if there must be some reason for it—some tie of blood, that can account for it," Monica thoughtfully observed, as she searched the sweet blue eyes looking so earnestly into hers and thinking that it would be lovely to discover a relativo, however distant, in this bright, genial girl. "Then I will see you later," Florence responded. "I must hurry to dross now, for someone else will want the room ;" and with another smile and friendly n©d she disappeared. Half an hour later, as soon as she had made her toilet, Florence sought her new acquaintance in the car, where she found her quietly conversing with a woman whom she saw at once was a maid. "Come over a nd sit with me," she said, after exchanging a few words with Monica, "and let us compare notes." They sat down side by side, and any one beholding them would have sworn they were twin sisters. "My name if Florence Richarson," our pretty heroine began, with the most engaging frankness, after she had made her guest comfortable. "My home is in New York City, with my guardian, Mr. Robert Seaver, who is really almost like a father to me, and we have been travelling abroad ever since last July." "And I am Monica King," Monica began, when Florence turned upon her with a great start, "King !" she interrupted, with almost breathless haste. "Why, mamma had a sister who elo—who married a man by the name of King." "Was your mother's maiden name Foster ?" queried Monica, a quick flush rising to her brow over the word that Florence had cut short. " Yes, Florence Foster ; I was named for her. Her sister's name was Helen."

"That Was my mother's name Then we are"—-

"Cousins! First cousins!" interposed Florence, eagerly, as she put forth a cordial hand and grasped Monica's. Now, isn't that just the most delightful discovery in the world ?" she went on, a bright little laugh breaking from her. Why, I have beem wanting somebody to love all my life—somebody who really belongs to me, you know. How strange it seems'! And yet something told me the moment I saw you that there was the tie of blood between us. It is wonderful that we should have encountered each other in this way—in a train, in a foreign country ! You must tell me all about yourself—that is," she added, smiling and bending forward to look into the eyes of tier companion, "if you will own me as a relative and trust me."

Monica's trembling fingers closed almost convulsively over the hand that clasped hers, and quick tears sprang, into her eyes.

"Oh, 1 am so glad, and you are so kind," she faltered, with quiverings, lips. "I was feeling so forlorn and alone in the world this raornine. . Of course, I will owmyou, and

after such' a lovely greeting ' rrom you, how could I help trusting you ? I know," she went on without giving Florence an opportunity to reply, "that my mother ran away r from her home to marry my father. Her friends did not approve of him because he was poor, and went into the mines to try to make his fortune, and his position in society was 'not equal to hers. But he adored her, and he was a gentleman, if he was not rich. Mamma's father and mother forgave her—that is, they told her they would not, and so, when papa moved from place to place, hoping to better his condition, she did not let them know her address, and never heard from them. Papa said that she never. expressed a regret for having married him contrary to their wishes, although she did sometimes grieve for her sister, whom she had loved most tenderly."

"Yes, and I once heard my mother say that the separation from her sister Helen, the uncertainty regarding her fate, was the one thing in life to which she had never become reconciled," Florence observed as Monica paused.

Papa and mamma had a hard time during the' first five years of their life," the .young girl resumed, "and it seemed'as if fortune would never favour them. They wandered from place to place in the Far West, but finally went down into Mexico, where papa very soon made a lucky find. Then he grew rich very fast ; but mamma only lived about five years after that." "And had you no brothers or sisters ?" inquired Florence. " No. I was the only child ; but"

Monica was suddenly interrupted at this point, for Florence sprang to her feet as Mr. and Mrs. Seaver, having just completed their toilet, now appeared upon the scene. "Oh, uncle and auntie," she cried, as they reached her section, " the most wonderful thing imaginable has happened. I—l have found my cousin ! Monica," she continued, dropping easily into cousinly familiarity, "this is my guardian, Mr. Seaver, and this is his wife. Uncle and auntie, let me introduce Miss Monica King." The lady and gentleman both looked the astonishment they experienced at the announcement of their ward, as well as at the remarkable resemblance of the two girls.

They greeted the stranger with cordial kindness, however ; but there was no time for further explanations just then, as they were at that moment entering the station at Genoa, where they were to breakfast and spend a couple of hours before taking another train for Nice. "You must come with us, Monica," Florence observed, as Mr. Seaver began to gather up their traps ; " but who is it I saw in the car with you." "She was maid to a lady who has been very kind to me, but who died this week at Rome. She is returning with me to her friends in London," Monica explained. "Well, then, we will all make one party," said Mr. Seaver, kindly ; and when the train stopped they all went together to the nearest hotel for breakfast. This having been despatched, Mr. Seaver secured a private room for their accommodation, when Monica and Florence resumed the history Of their past. Mr. Seaver became very indignant as he listened to Monica's account of the persecution and wrong she had endured from Carl King and his daughter. "They are robbers—almost murderers," he said, sternly ; and they should be made to suffer to the extent of the law for. their crimes and treachery. What a heartless being this man must be—very different metal from your father, I should judge ?" "Indeed he is," said the girl, with starting tears, as she recalled how invariably kind and tender her father's manner towards her had always been. "He was a cousin to papa, but was always envious of him, even when they were boys. He became even more so as they grew older, for papa loved his books, and was bound to have an education, and would not go among the rough associates with whom his cousin mingled. But after he followed papa t 0 Mexico and begged a place in his jnine, this- envious feeling seemed to have been entirely annihilated, for h e worked very zealously for papa's interests, and was finally made foreman* at the mine. Then papa brought Inez home, and she grew up and was educated with me, and everything moved along very harmoniously until papa died, and Carl prevailed upon me to choose him as my guardian." "And this man has the unlimited control of all your fortune ?" said Mr. Seaver, inquiringly.

"Yes, of everything. Indeed, I might just as well be annihilated for all the good I reap from my money. I am practically annihilated, as far as they are concerned," Monica replied. "But was there no one to whom you could appeal at the time of your father's death to manage your affairs ?" questioned the gentleman. "If papa's lawyer, Mr. Appleby, had been at home, I think everything would have been different," replied Monica ; "but he was abroad at that time, and still may be. But Cousin Carl was so kind and thoughtful, apparently, while I was so confused and crushed by papa's death, I did not once dream of treachery. My first awakening to the fact was when, as I was beginning to recover from that fever in Dr. Flint's sanatorium, I overheard a conversation between him and the nurse which opened my eyes to the.truth."

"And you say your cousins are now in Koine ?" "I know that Inez is there, for I mot her one day not long ago in a shop. Her father T have not seen. I was so frightened alter meeting Inez I rarely left the house." "Uncle Robert," said Florence, turning to him, "do you remember that brilliant-looking girl who represented the Goddess of Night at, the

masquerade ball ?" "Yes. She wore a t,ain about six yards long, which was carried by a couple of pages, a"d I never saw .so many diamonds on any one in my life," Mr. Beaver answered. "Well, that was Miss Inez King," Florence observed. "Good heavens !" cried the man, bringing his hand down upon his knee with a resounding slap. "I beliave I see through tbe whole thing

now ! wno Denevea you to be your cousin, Monica, and she planned th a t assault upon you that night." "Uncle, I believe you are right !" exclaimed Florence, with a shudder at the remembrance of that horrible experience ; "and that train of hers was what was used to smother me. I recall now the feeling, of velvet, and I noticed it, too, afterwards, on the arm of the young man who rescued me. Oh, do you suppose her pao-es were those two awful men?" "I should not be at all surprised," replied Mr. Seaver, with sternlycompressed lips. "Then, of course, Miss Inez King planned the whole scheme, and lam glad we came away from Rome when we did," said Florence, with a sigh of infinite relief. "And if I had known what I know now, I would rather have remained and fought the battle out with that scheming woman and her rascally father," her guardian vehemently returned. Then, observing Monica's puzzled face, he smilingly added : "Our other ward thinks we are talking enigmas. Tell her the story, dear, while I go to have a smoke." The "other ward" looked up at him with a quick flush and smile of gratitude at being thus gathered so kindly u n dcr the protection of the whole-hearted man, who nodded cordially in return as he passed out of the room.

CHAPTER XXIII. A LOVER'S COWARDLY THREAT

Later in the day Florence had a long and confidential talk with her guardian, telling him her plans regaraing her cousin, and the man seconded them most heartily, promising also to do his utmost to help the wronged girl recover her fortune and bring her persecutors to justice.

On their arrival in Paris Mr. Scaver took rooms in the Avenue de l'Opera, and after starting Mrs. Sidney's maid safely on' on her way to England, Florence and Monica gave themselves up to the enjoyment of the sights and gaieties around them. Meantime Sir Walter Leighton was paying diligent attention to Miss Inez King, to make up for past remissness in this respect. The lady of his love being beyond his reach for the time being, he reasoned that there could be no harm in his enjoying himself with the briliant heiress, while it would be far pleasanter to have a congenial companion during the carnival than --to be wandering about by himself. A couple of days after the departure of the Seavers, as he was passing down the porso, Sir Walter suddenly came upon his old friend Ted Merrill.

*The two men greeted each other with an appearance of great cordiality, and yet each was conscious of a feeling of unusual constraint.

Sir Walter had been secretly nursing a grudge against Wis former friend ever since learning that he had presumed to aspire to the hand of Florence, while Merrill himself could not fail to experience a feeling of guilt for having trespassed upon the rights of Leighton. "Well, well, Merrill, who would have thought that you and I would meet here in Rome ? What have you been doing with yourself during the last eight months ?" Sir Walter inquired, with some semblance of cordiality, as he turned about to walk with the young man. "Oh, I have been travelling over a good part of Europe with a most delightful party, and, by the way, Walter, the Seavers an d their pretty ward were among the number," Merrill returned, thinking he might as well be frank about his movements. "Urn ! So I have understood," said Sir Walter, drily. Merrill, started, and changed colour at the tone as much as at the words. "Ah," he returned, recovering himself after a moment, "perhaps you have seen them recently ?" "Yes," said his companion', with irritating brevity. "Are they still in Rome?" "No ; they left for Paris the day before yesterday. They're on their way home." "Jove, I'm sorry to hear that ! I fully expected to meet them here," Merrill observed, in a disappointed tone.

Sir Walter coloured angrily. "Did you, indeed '?" he questioned, sneeringly. " Don't you think it rather shabby of you. Ted, to have been poaching upon my preserves all these months ?"

"Your preserves ?" queried his companion, with a sceptical lifting of.his eyebrows.

"Yes ; the girl is the same as my wife, and you know it, in spite of the, fact that that marriage fell through last summer, and I say it is downright mean of you to have skipped over here on the same steamer and tried to crowd me out ;" and the young baronet spoke with considerable heat.

"Well, I see that you have had the whole story, Walter, and I may as well own up that 1 have fallen desperately in love with the girl," Merrill confessed. "Indeed !"

"Yes, it's the truth. I can't help it if you are cut up over it, and 'all is fair in love and war ;' fo if Florence Richardson will have me I mean to marry her," said Merrill, with a note of defiance in his tones. "And her fortune, you should have added," retorted his companion, a gleam of fury blazing in his eyes. "Well. J am willing to admit that the fortune would be no objection," said Merrill, with a disagreeable laugh, "especially as 1 have been sailing pretty close to the weather since my respected uncle gave me the cold shoulder. This trip will cost me my last dollar unless I can win a rich wife," he concluded, recklessly. "Ted, vou are petting upon dangerous ground," said Leighton, who was now white with passion ; " and let me tell you you will never win Florence Richardson." "You appear to be very confident about the matter." "I am ; for she will be my wife in reality before the summer is gone," retorted Leighton between his tightly-shut teeth. Merrill flushed hotly, paled. "Nonsense ! I do not believe it ! She shall not !" ho cried, after a moment of silence. Then he continued, more deliberately : "Walter, you and' I have been good friends in the past, and had your marriage with Miss Richardson been carried out as you had planned, our relations might l have, remained unchanged ; but 1 am

m dead earnest about this matter. Ai'ter having been in her society all these months I have learned to love her as a man loves but once in his life, and—l am determined to win her if I can."

"Then it is to be war between us ?" demanded the young baronet, with lowering brow and fiercely blazing eyes. "Well, perhaps, unless we can be friendly rivals" • "Never!" fiercely interposed Leighton. "You traitor ! And I warn you to beware if you dare to interfere with my prior rights in this manner."

, "Very well ; then war it will have to be," retorted Merrill, as he wheeled suddenly about and left his companion to go his own way and nurse his wrath to his heart's content.

"What a fool I was to tell him they had gone to Paris !" Leighton sullenly muttered, as he glared fiercely alter his rival. ''-But just as poon as the carnival is over I will follow them. Curse the fellow ! I never dreamed he would play me such a shabby trick." He was not so overcome by the interview, however, as to permit it to tcrfcrc in the least with his amusement. He proceeded directly to make a call upon. Inez King, with whom he spent the afternoon, driving out to the Cauipagna, and afterwards dinir.g with her at a fashionable cafe. Merrill, on the contrary, and literally, "in dead earnest," as he had said, went straight to his hotel, packed his trunk, and took the next express en route, for Paris. He travelled night and day, and arrived at his destination some three days previous to the arrival of the Scaver p-rty, much to his disappointment. lie kept a sharp look out for them, until they had been in the city several days, and then he lost no time in calling upon them. Florence was not very well pleased by his appearance, for she could not forget their last interview, and dreaded a renewal of his attentions and importunities. She secretly despised him for the threat he had made, hoping thereby to coerce her consent to his proposal. Still, she was a lady, and felt that she must be courteous to him. She introduced him to Monica, telling him how strangely they had met on their » way from Rome, and by always insisting upon her presence when he called, she hoped to discourage a renewal of his suit. "But the young man had staked his all upon winning her, and he could not be long eluded in this way ; and one afternoon, when they were all out sight-seeing- together, he manacred to get himself and Florence separated from the others of the party, and then took instant advantage of his opportunity. " Miss Florence, that all-important question which I asked you the last time I saw you is still unanswered," ho began, as they turned into a narrow, shaded path, for they were in the garden of the Tuilleries. "I went to Rome hoping to meet you there, but. not finding you, came directly to Paris, to learn whether I am to be happy or wretched during the remainder of my life. Florence—darling ! I love you with all my heart and soul. Will you be my wife?" Florence turned a glance of undisguised astonishment upon him. "Mr. Merrill," she began, with a chilling dignity that assured him ho had nothing to hope for. "I confess 1 am amazed that, you should renew this subject after my attitude towards you upon previous and similar occasions. But let me say now, once and for all, that I shall never marry you." The young man flushed hotly beneath her icy calmness of mahner and (he inflexibility of her tones. "1 cannot take that as a fmal answer," he said. "Oh, let me try to win you ?" "It must be final," she replied, without heeding his appeal, and so decidedly that he knew' his fate was scaled. "And if you persist in forcing" the subject, upon me, I shall feel obliged to request you to discontinue your calls. I would not willingly wound you, Mr. Merrill," shd added, more gently, "but this question must never be raised again." His face was almost ghastly in its pallor, but it was not caused by wounded love.

tie was bitterly incensed over the fact that a fine fortune was lost to him. when he had spent his all in the attempt to win it, and now his chagrin sent all the meanness of his nature, which for so long he had tried to conceal, to the surface. "And that is really your ultimatum. Miss Richardson ?" he whispered hoarsely.

"Most assuredly, Mr. Merrill," she haughtily, returned. "Then—mark my words," he hissed, bending his lips close tq her ear—"l will make you rw this day and this hour as ion,? as you live ! 1 know your secret, even though you think you have guarded it so secretly that no one suspects it. You love that haughty beggar Carrol, but he shall never win you. And for your scorn of me, I swear that yon shall drag out your life in a bondage so bitter that you will pray to die !" Florence drew herself up to her full height, and lifted her Dlazing eyes to his lowering face. "Sir," she began, with lofty scorn, "I fail to understand you, but I can dispense with your company at once, and from this moment our acquaintance ceases."

They saw no more of Merrill while they were in Paris. He disappeared as suddenly as he had come, and Florence was heartily glad to be rid of his presence. Thus time passed very pleasantly and rapidly to our four friends until four weeks slipped by. when they were rejoined by Sir Walter Leighton.

He had intended to leave Rome immediately after the carnival, but Miss King had made so many plans ahead which included him, he found it next to impossible to tear himself away ; while, too, in spite of his boasted affections for Florence, ho found the gay heiress a companion after his own heart, for she led him a lively dance, and he thoroughly enjoyed himself with her, when lie was' not hampered by the presence of those before whom he felt obliged to behave himself circumspectly. 1646. (To be Continued).

Thoro ie no better interest than interest in another,