CHAPTER XXXVI.

Taranaki Herald, Volume XLV, Issue 10657, 4 July 1896, Page 4

CHAPTER XXXVI.

Lord Fiolden was in no way daunted ty the darkness of the night. II the moon or the stars had been shining, the woman, lot her te whom she might, wou'd never have ventured through the park. The darkness had favoured her ; it would also favour him in finding her. Ho thought that the best thing to do first was to go down to the lodge ard see if any person had been noticed there. The people at tho lodge had seen no one ;,thev were quite certain that no strange woman had passed through the gates — jn fact, no person coald pass through them without their knowledge ; nor did they believe that it was likely any person could get into the park by the other entrances. Lord Fielden's suspicions increased. The woman bad evidently gained access tv the park in some secret manner ; therefore her purpose could not have beon legitimate or honest. It was idle to suppose that robbery had been the motive ; consequently Harry was more convinced than ever that tbe stranger was seme person who had read the advertisements about Lola de Ferras, and wanted to discover the reason for it. As the woman had not passed through the gates, it seemed probable that she might still be in tho park. If he could but find her! He knew the grounds well himself, but ho could not deside at what point to begin a search. He vowed to himself that he would linger all night in the park rather tha» she should escape He stood quite still, listening. Every now and then a night-bird _ called from the treee ; the owls hooted in the woods, a rabbit leaped in the grass ; there was a rustling of wings, and a sweet soft sigh from the night-wind— but that was all he heard. More than an hour passed, and he was no nearer the object of his search. He folt inclined at last to go indoors. One€ more he stood so still that he could almost hoar his heart beating. Surely there was a sonnd at last — that of slow, creeping stealthy fuotstep3 on the other siile. of the beechos. He could hear the rustling over the grass, the cracking oi underwood. Yes, ho was right! The footsteps came noarer. He stopped foi a moment to think \iow he could beat capture tho trespasser. If ho crossed the grove, she would hear him, and again hide^in the darkness— thiß time perhaps in such a way that he couid notfind'her, He must not startle her. His best plan probably would be to walk again to the end o? the grove, and thoro wait for her, Ho began noisolussly to retrace his stops, only pausing now and then tc listen it tlie other stealthy footstsps faltered. . Ho reached the end of the grovo and stood waiting. He .was bravo and fea;lcss al a lion, but there was a queei pollution at his heart as the stranger drew nearer and nearer. 'Jlie footsteps grow more distinct now tlut tho grove was past, and presently they sounded quite closo to, him. Hn put out Ms hands, and they grasped a woman's garments^ The woman stopped with a faint low cry. '■ Who are you? " he exclaimed ; hut thero was uo answer. It was too dark to see. He only know that ho cinched n tall figure that seemed frozen with fear. There wa9 silenco for a minute, and then the woman struggled violently N to free hersplf, all without a word. "You shall not go," cried Lord Fielden. " until you have told mo who you are! You neod not struggle ; you are a strong woman, but I am a Mrong man. Such efforts to escape are useless. Tell me who you are aui what is jo?r business hero, aud then I will let you go. " 8 lie struggled with such violence to free horsolt horn his grasp that tho black cloak she woro was torni her bonnet fell off and with it something white and soft. She knew it was the wig which tad so effectually disguised her, and with the knowledge came an access ol despair ; it made her so strong that this time she almost tore herself from hei captor s grasp. '' No, " he said, " I will not hurt you. I could bind youJfast this moment if I iked ; bat I will not. If it pleases you. though, we will stand hero until morning—until daylight da\vns— so that I may *w, if yoii w^ not te " mc > WfIOTOU are.;:

Jt was as ranch as he could do to hold the strange woman,' but he kept her hand 9 tightly grasped in his. fJow long a time passed in that terrible struggle he could not toll. He found presently that she was panting for breath, and that her strength was failing her, and that in a short lime she must be still from sheer exhaustion. So it Lappened. After a few more efforts to free herself, she gave up struggling, and atood panting and trembling. Then came a long-drawn sigh, a low piteous cry. " For Heaven's sake, let ms go — let me gol " she murmured. •' Tell me who you are and what you want, " he said, " and you shall go the next moment. " "lam no one whom you know. I have been looking for work. I am a poor woman, and I have been to all the big houses to try to get some sewing. 1 came here to-d >y ; but there was nothing for me tp do. I was tired and hungry, and I fell asleep among the 'ferns in the park. lam only trying to find my out of the park I have done no harm. Let mo go, for Heaven's sake! " The woman's story might be true. He elaxed his hold, "Tell me," he said — "was it you who looked in at the dining room window at the Manor and terrified a young lady? " Bhe was silent. He repeated the qurrtion. " Yes, " she said, "it was. I did not moan to frighten any one. I was cold and hungry. The bright lights attracted mo. and 1 looked in. I meant no harm — I did no harm. Let me go! " That one word " attracted " proved fatal She had spoken in a low, murmuring, hoarse voice, a' most impossible to distinguish ; but in that word he had recognized the never-to-be-mistaked roll of the French "r" which the people of no other nation can imitate. He grasped her mare closely. "You aro a French woman!" he cried. " You have perhaps come from that wicked woman herself! " BUe struggled afresh with the strength of a man, uttering low, piteous cries ; but in his strong arms she was helpless as a child. , » l< You cannot escape, " he said. " Your struggles are more vain than those of a bird in the forler's net Just then a few rays of light broke through the clouds ; they parted in majestic grandeur, rolling away in heavy masses of black and whit© vapor, leaving the moon sailing peacfully in the sky. " Thank Heaven! "he cried. " Now I can see you! " '• Let me go, " she wailed, piteously — "let me go! " Resolutely she turned and bent her head, lest the moonlight should fall upon her face. " I will kill myself if you try to look at me! " she cried. • "You cannot. Have you not the sense, woman, to know when you aro cenquered? " She made a wild dash at him. It was her last hope. It was as though an ocean 'wave had flung itself against a rock — useless, vain, indeed injurious to herself. The last shred of disguise fell from her, and she stood revealed in the moonlight — which she cursed in her heart— a tall, stately woman, with a mass of bkek hair and dark wild eyes, contrasting vividly with her white face ; the false hair had been trampled under foot in the struggle. The moon now shone out more fully and clearly, so clearly that Lord Fielden could see every line of the stranger's face and figure. In a moment it flashed across him who she was, This was no poor common woman looking for work. She was rather like a queen of tragedy. " I know you, " he said." You are the woman for whom I hare been searching morning, noon and night, for whom I have sought all over Europe — you are LoladeFerras!" A low cry came from her lips, and, Lord Fielden releasing his hold, she fell upon the ground, shuddering, trembling. " You are Lola do Ferras, " he repeated, "tho woman who alone knows the secret of Sir Karl Allanmore's fate. You must come with me. " Her strength was gone. The mention of her name seemed to have paralyzed her. He raised har, and she made no resistance. He trampled tho false hair under his feet. " You will not want this again, " he said. "You will have no mor<s need for disguise. Gome with me. " As he took her hands for tho second time, his oyes fell upon her weddingring, and it startled him. Was she married, and to whom? 11 Whither are you iaking mo? " she a3ked. ', I will not go to the Manor House. Where are we going? " '' To the keeper's cottage, " he replied. li I shall detain you there until you solve the mystery of Sir Karl's absence for us. " " Then I shall die there! ' gho replied, with a triumphant laugh. " Theie are many clever inventions in this world ; but I havo not yet heard of one wlifoh can make a woman speak when she chooses to be silent. " "Nor have I, " he agreed gravely. "J shall leave it to your sense of honour to speak. lam quite aware that I cannot compel you. " " You can lock me up, shut me in prison — you can do auytbing and everything you will ; but 1 am queen of the position, and I shall remain so. " They reached the keeper's cottage at last ; and she stood in silence while tho door vra3 unfastened. Lord Fielden kept a keen watch upon her, knowing well that sli9 would make her escape if it were possible ; and than he was resolved she should not do. TO I>B CONTINUED.