CHAPTER LIY.

Te Aroha News, Volume VI, Issue 295, 1 September 1888, Page 5

CHAPTER LIV.

THU VI.OTTEK PJKRI'LEXKD. As evening or two after the events of our last chapter, Lady Neville and the countess, gave a reception in honour of Sir Bayard's leturn from London. The spacious halls of the old Highland manor Avere bxilliantly illuminated, and thrown open to receive the elite, of the Scottish nobility. A very grand affair it turned out to be, for the countess had a number of old friends in that vicinity, and they all flocked in to pay their respects to her : and there were a number of gentlemen from London, friends of the earl, who had come to the Highlands for the shooting season. The old countess Avas never in her element unless when she had a ball on hand, or some bit of gayety involving fine dresses and music. "With her seventy years, and her wrinkles and grey hairs, she was still as spruce and sprightly as any damsel in her teens. She wore the very finest of black velvet habits thac night, with laces at her throat and cufls — yellow, cobweb affairs, that woie in themselves worth a snug fortune — and one great diamond solitaire in the front of her haughty turban, that glittered like the morning star. Captain Fo«sbrooke was In waiting at the foot of the wido black-oak stairway to escort the countess to the drawing-room. The handsome captain -was always on the alert to please and flatter the dowager, and, j like most women of her age, she was fond of flattery and attention. And it turned out that the captain got to be one of her prime favourites. She liked to have him j beside her when she drove out, and no one : could please her at a game of chess as he did : and he made her sketches of all the choice bits of landscape around her old manor, and made himself so chai*ming and ; agreeable, so entirely necessai'y to her content and happiness, that she would have resigned almost any of her pet indulgences sooner than have given up the captain. 'I'd give one-half my fortune,' she said to Lady Neville, as they were dressing for the reception, ' if Brompton was a man like Fossbrooke. It would be some comfort to \ one's wealth and title in his hands then. But of all the numskulls I ever met, Sir Bayard is the prince. I don't wonder a bib that Marguerite doesn't like him.' Lady Neville settled the folds of her mauve silk meditatively, her delicate brows j arched in well-bred surprise. If she had I daied to tpeau. severely to the countess, it was in hey heart to do so. *My dearer, countess, 1 she implored, * I trust you will not encourage Marguerite in her foolish fancies. The poor earl has trouble enough as it is ; I wouldn't have it come to his ears that Marguerite was thoughtless enough to drh'e with Captain Fossbiooke, on any account. The idea, an earl's daughter and a common soldier !' And Lady Neville put her jewelled per-fume-bottle to her delicate nostrils, as if the comparison sickened her. The old dowager rattled her jewelled stick in a fury. ' / drive with Fossbrooke, 5 she retorted, angrily, ' and you know I do ; so don't say too much.' 'My dearest friend, I really meant no harm,' cried Lady Neville, in alarm, and willing to make any confessions to conciliate the countess. ' I like Captain Fossbrooke myself ; but very young girls are so unwise, you know, and so^ apt to be fascinated by handsome, military men — and Pearl ' ' Pearl is pledged to marry Sir Bayard,' put in the countess, ' and she'll marry him. She's not the girl to break a promise.' 'I don't know,' replied Lady Neville. ' I shall feel relieved when bhe wedding is over. I wish it would take place tomorrow. ' • Let's have it then,' said the countess. • What's to hinder? Nothing bub Strathspey's silly notion that the marriage must take place at the old rat's nest, the Towers. The troiis-semCs all in readiness, and awaiting my order— suppose we order it here, and have the affair over V Lady Neville meditated. She was unspeakably harassed on account of the earl's movements, and her one hope of salvation lay in Pearl's marriage. If the alliance with the Countess of Mortlake should slip through their fingers, their prestige and position would be for ever lost ; and rather than lose caste in the London world, rather than be compelled to lower her haughty head in the eyes of her aristocratic friends, Lady Neville would have suffered martyrdom. She was growing uneasy in regard to Marguerite. Her growing interest in Captain Fossbrooke, and the dowager's increasing fancy for him, and the captain's cool insolence, together with Sir Bayard's unaccountable peculiarities, worried Lady Neville beyond expression. She never

knew an hour's rest. If by any mischance that foolish child should entangle herself to the captain, the disgrace would be eternal, All the pride of the whole Strathspey race seemed to centre in my Lady Neville. C I cannot tell,' she replied, after live minutes' reflection, ' whether it could be managed or not. I only know that I wish it could. There is no telling what may transpire in a few weeks. Angus is in such a lamentable state of mind, that he does not know one hour what he will do the next. He hinted afc not returning to the Towers at all the other day, but going irom here to London, and if Marguerite commences the London seapon unmarried, she'll never be Sir Bayard's wife.' ' That's true,' replied the countess, ' and all the man's own fault — what can make him such a dolt ? The Brompton baronets were always clever men — always, and he used to be sprightly once. I wonder if he can have lost his reason ?' 'Don't you think you are prejudiced against him, my dear countess?' asked Lady Neville ; 'he seems to me as clever and agreeable as most gentlemen.' 'He does, eh ? Well, I'»n glad you're suited, and I'm gladder still that Strathspey doesn't notice him. If he did the marriage would soon be set aside. Men know how to read each other, and there's some hidden page in Sir Bayard's life that holds a terrible secret. 1 can see that much, even through my goggles. But he's a Brompton, and that covers a multitude of transgressions — I don't care to see my own name brought down. I won't disinherit him, though I'm pretty sure he deserves it But I'll tell you what I will do,' she added, after a moment's reflection, tapping at her gold snuff-box. 'I'm an old woman, and the grave's not far ahead, and I like to have my conscience clean when I can. Do you know, Lady Neville, I can't sleep now o' nights for dreaming of Marguerite's white face? It haunts mo. This marriage will break the child's heart.' Lady Neville, stately in her mauve silk, listened in haughty silence, not a quiver of feeling or pity on her cold cruel lips. ' It haunts me, I say,' went on the queer old countess, ' and I like the child — and I'll tell you what I'll do, I'll give her onehalf my fortune, and Sir Bayard the other half, and it they don't choose to marry they can let it alone. What do you say to that ?' 'I have nothing to say,' replied Lady Neville, haughtily ; 'if your lady&hip sees fit to cancel the engagement, now that it has been made public, and the settlements arranged, and the wedding-day announced by the press, well and good.' The dowager brought her cane down with angry force. 4 Who wants to break the engagement ?' she stormed. ' I'm not the woman to eat my own promises. I'm sorry for the girl, that's all. It is a pity to marry a pretty creature like her against her will. I hoped she might learn to like Brompton, but she never will. However, you are her own flesh and blood, you and Strathspey, and if you say let the wedding go on, I'm content. But I won't bear the blame — I wash my hands clean of the whole affair. Tell the earl so, and ask him what's to be done.' ' I will speak to him about it,' said Lady Neville, rising, 'and we will abide by his decision.' 'So we will, so we will,' echoed the countess, seizing her cane and leaving the chamber. At the foot of the great stairway Captain Fossbrooke awaited her. A handsome, courtly gentleman, graceful and selfpossessed, with a smile and voice that were irresistible. He held a dainty cluster of mountain pinks of a very rare species in his hand. ' I remembered hearing your ladyship express a wish for some,' he said, as he offered them ; ' and I gathered these on the very summit of the cliffs, if you will honour me by accepting them ?' The old countess was excessively pleased and flattered. She accepted the blossoms, nodding and smiling, and set them in the creamy laces on her breast. ' Now,' she said, with a delighted chuckle, • I shall excite the envy of half the women present. Shall we go in ?' The captain had offered her his arm, and now he paused irresolutely, glancing towaid the fflittering drawing-rooms beyond. ' The guests are just beginning to come,' he ventured ; 'if your lady&hip would have the goodne&s to give me five minutes' audience — the greenhouse is unoccupied — and ' 'Five minutes' audience?' interrupted the countes?. ' For what, I should like to know ? What can you have to say to me ?' The captain smiled his irresistible, winning smile, and led the way to the greenhouse. The countess sat down under the shade of an aloe, pushed back her goggles and crossed her withered hands on the jewelled knob of her cane. ' Now,' she demanded, ' what is it ?' The young soldier faced her boldly, and without embarrassment. ' Lady Brompton,' ho &aid, 'I am going to tell you a secret. ' ' Out with it, then,' ejaculated the countess. ' And I am going to do more,' he added, with that cool, winning, graceful boldness that was his chief charm ; ' I am going to ask you to help me — to be my friend.' The dowager sat like a sphinx, leaning on her staff, not a sign of interest in her wrinkled face and twinkling grey eyes. 'The secret first,' she said. 'Let me hear what ibis,' • I have ventured to love Lady Marguerite Strathspey,' said the captain, his arms folded across his stalwart breast, his face all aglow with enthusiasm. 4 You have, eh V grunted the countes*. 'And,' continued the daring young soldier, ' she loves me in return.' ' And pray, Captain Fossbrooke,' cried the dowager, • what is it to me ? The Earl of Strathspey is the person who can help you, if he will.' 'I think the Countess of Mortlake is even more potent than the earl,' returned the captain. 'At any rate, I would sooner enlist her sympathy in my behnlf.' ' That you are not very likely to do,' replied uhe old woman, with a wicked smile. 'Do not discourage me at the outset, I implore,' continued the young man, facing her again with that winning smile in his brown eyes. ' I flattered myself that I was not only a friend, but a favourite with your ladyship, and I cannot believe you will refuse to help me.' The eountesa laughed outright. His graceful daring and conceit were amusing. The captain laughed too, but it was evident that he' was deeply in earnest. ' I love Lady Marguerite,' he went on, 4 and Sir Bayard Brompton does not love her, and she never will love him. Now, my dear countess, I appeal to you as a woman — a wife — is it well to force a lovely young thing like her into a marriage that is utterly distasteful to her '! She is gentle, obedient, angelic : she will do whatever her iriends command ; but, in Heaven's name, do not command her to marry a man she detests.' • * You are not very complimentary to the baronet,' intei'poscd the countess ; ' and he is my kinsman— did you know as much ?' , ',1 know that Sir Bayard Brompton is your kinsman,' replied the captain, with a

peculiar expression ; ' but it isn't my habit to deal in compliments, or in detraction. I have nothing to say of the baronet ; I only know that Marguerite is miserable, and that I love her.' ' And what do you want of me ?' cried the countess. 'Come to that point, will you?' ' I want you to help me. It I have not been misinformed, it was owing to your ladyship's influence that the existing engagement was contracted. Now, I want you to reconsider the matter, and persuade the baronet, and the earl, and all parties concerned, that it will be infinitely better to give Lady Marguerite to me ; in short, I want you to help me to win her. ' ' You ask me to disown my own kinsman, and help you to make the young Countess of Mortlake your wife ?' ' I made no reference to property or titles; the baronet is welcome to everything, save Lady Marguerite herself. I only ask for her.' The countess stared at him over her goggles for a minute. ' Well, young man,' she said, at last, 'I must say that your impudence surpasses anything and everything I have ever encountered. Who and what are you, pray ?' ' A gentleman and a soldier,' replied the captain quietly. ' And you aspire to the hand of an earl's daughter, and she pledged to marry a baronet ?' ' T love her !' There was a lofty grace and sublimity about the man, and everything he did and &aid, that won the old countess in spite of herself. 'Well,' she said, rising and getting her cane in place ; * I'm not a heartless woman. I confess that I'm sorry for you, and for Marguerite too, but I can't help you. Lord Strathspey and his sister would see Marguerite in "her grave before they'd many her to you.' ' I think the Countess of Mortlake might win them ovei',' suggested thecapbain. 'Possibly,' said the dowager, 'if she chose to disinherit her own kinsman, and endow you with all her possessions. That she won't do.' I ' That Ido not ask, but Ido ask, entreat you, for Lady Marguerite's sake, do not force her into this marriage.' j ' Don't ask me anything more — take me to the drawing-room, will you ?' Captain Fossbrooke obeyed, giving her his arm in silence and conducting her from the dim silence of the greenhouse into the I brilliant glare of the crowded drawingroom. As they departed from the dusky gloom 1 beyond the aloe-tree, the figure of a man rose up, and glided through the greenhouse with a noiseless step. Under the swaying arch of illuminated evergreens, above the great gateway, he paused ; and the twinkling tapers revealed the face of Sir Bayard himself. An awful face it was to look upon, deathly white, and distorted with passion ; the light, the restless eyes glowing- with a kind of phosphorescent fire ' It is ke,' he muttered, in a hoarse, unnatural voice, 'it must be ! Curse him ! I thought he was done for. Did that knave, Leonard, play me false, I wonder ? But I won't be foiled— T won't lose everything at the last moment ! I'll do the work myself this time, and do it light.' He crept on, with a sinuous, serpent-like motion, through the gates, and out under the stately oaks that shaded the park. And, as if fate willed it, just a step or two beyond he met his valet. He was strolling leisurely along, with a cigar between his teeth, and a smouldering fire in his Moorish eyes. Without parley or explanation, the baronet seized him by the collar. ' You played me false, you villain !' he cried, in a hoarse whisper ; ' you lied to me !' Leonard wrenched himself free, and faced his master with a scowl. ' Lied about what?' he demanded. 'About Sir Bayard Brompton,' replied the baronet, his lips growing white as he uttered the name ; ' you said you did the job right, safe, 1 with a significant gesture. ' Who says I didn't?' demanded Leonard. ' 1 did do it, and I want my reward, that's moi'e !' ' You didn't complete your work,' continued the baronet, ' he's here ; alirt— and he'll supplant me yet.' The valet staggered back, and grew white with terror. ' Sir Bayard here ?' he ejaculated. ' I tell you he's nob here ! He was dead, deat>, DEAD— he's not here !' ' Then someone is who bears a strong resemblance to him,' replied his master, 'and he must be got out of the way, and that quickly, or the game's up. I shall marry in two months, and come into possession, if all goes well—and you'll have your ten thousand pounds by Christmas— but this man, whoever he is, is bent on defeating me. He must disappear ~ how shall we manage it. Leonard gnawed at his black mustache in silence. ' I shan't run the risk of hanging for nothing,' he giumbled at last. 'I want some show for my pay.' ' You shall have it,' replied the baronet, ' the day, the hour, it comes into my hands. What more can I do ?' ' Pay mesome now. You can do it— you've got money. ' The baronet could nob deny the fact. He had money. Twice since his engagement with Lady Marguerite, had the generous old countess repleni=hed his purse : and he was not an extravagant man. He loved his gold for its own sake, nob fur what it brought him. lt hurt him sorely to part with it, but his present necessity was dire. 1 How much do you want ?' he asked. 1 ' Three hundred pounds, at once.' ' You shall have it to-moirow morning. Now, what's to be done?' ' I'll see,' nodded the valet ; ' first of all 1 ! must get my eyes on this man. How can ' I?' The baron meditated. 'Come with me,' he said; 'j 7 ou can stand on the ten ace yonder and look through the window into the drawingrooms. When I make a signal you will see him.' The valet followed him and took his position on the terrace, while Sir Bayard made his way into the glittering drawingroom. At the moment of his entrance the music began with a crash ; and afe the very head of the set stood Captain Fossbrooke with Lady Marguerite on his arm, Lady Marguerite, radiant in pale, shimmering silk, frosted with finest lace, her golden hair wieathed with rosebuds, her sweet, girlish face all aglow with happiness. The baronet made his way down the long room till he was opposite the terrace window ; then he made his sign, and Captain Fossbrooke whirled away, with his lovely partner, to the mazy numbers of a Strauss waltz, all unconscious of the deadly eyes that watched him.