CHAPTER XXVIII.—continued.

Taranaki Herald, Volume LIV, Issue 13261, 5 September 1906, Page 6

CHAPTER XXVlll.—continued.

The mental utterance oi 'hier name refuaajUofci! jtom l ( to 'ti'is njoih'i'ngt's, vvorjtc. lie 'arose, . tossiusg tne paper asiae. Aad it. % wa"s Alma, /now, who lived his mind ;^.to him, Gordon Vans ton — Dan<ae, were alike indiU'erent. J^ess. than an hour later, he was seated in earnest conference with tne most skiiltul of private detectives. "Quitted tiantluce's .house in Piccadilly, only la«t evening F" reuiarked the detective, making notes. "The case" shouldn't be a dijuicult one. We ought to fund the lady witllin — let v me see — we'll say, ' sir, within a weeki" Wnoh "comforted, even elated by the assurance, Lester Eae took his leave to bear the welcome news to Lord Santluce. t - ( But detectives are b\ut men, and no more infallible than doctors. The week grew into weeks, which in turn stretched! into months ;£ut not a trace, not the faintest clue, had been discovered of s Alma. Had she been hidden once more in the wildest, m«anuntrodden range of mountains t-*-ast -*-as Lester Rae, now in the deepest despair, declared she might be ; that is, if — which was 1 his 'greatest fear V —she were not de a d, and buried somewhere out of sight— she could not have been ( moTje effectually concealed from them.

Nor could clue be found either to old Randy or Ned. Once, Lester Rae had thought be had caught sight of the former, in a four-whieeled oab, arad, procuring • a hansom, hud pursixed 5 but at' the spot the vehicles were many, . and", thoug*h he •'believed, be 'had never lost sight of the identical cab, w:hen he overtook the one, j after nearly half-an-hour's pursuit, he i found it occupied by a British mat- \ roll, with a crowd of children asnd bundles, who, in response to his eager scrutiny, tossed ■ her head, ejaculating : '"Well, I'm sure !■ The iir^portinence of them swells !" No, Alma; ,was not to he fom*d. Was she ever tp be ? - Neither was Bandy nor Ned, , the two who; could solye the mystery, and /sh^ul^, by compulsion. . c The dlteotive suggested that one ?o beautiful, travelling the London streets, with which she was so little a«rj|uainted,- might have fallen into, other perils. r But,- though the idea sent j a thrill o* horror through both the young men, neither, especially' the artist, would entertain it. Here was lier letter ; "I go to join my grandfather." She h'e<d met him previously. She knew where, he resided, and had not the detectives dascovered, almost to a ciertaiaity, that the lady who had been driven from Piccadilly to Whiteohapel on that night, meeting two men, was Alma ? Btrt— Whitedhapel ! and .the description he had -given .of the shabby, orimy men,! Could Alm a voluntarily have' gone bade to them, to live in sudh a place ? They answered "No." But whether no or yes, beyond that the two shabby, men had, called that night' at 'a low beer shop in Briggett's Rents, inq'uiriwg if a letter had been sent there for,E. Greg- j so», they could trace the woman or the men no farther. "If it -were she," cried Santl/uce, in an agony, "1 tremble when I Hhink what might have been her fate ?" "Don't, 'for the love ot Heaven!"' ejaculated Lester Rae, deathly white., every nerVe wrung and quivering 1 . "If I dared ponder over such a possibility, T should go mad.", Strange, these men were rivals for the love of the same wom a n, yet the knowledge had produced Menjdsihip— not enmity. The mutual troaible had been a link to bind them, toother. Each was equally anxious- for A'lm a 'ssafety. for her recovery, 'though oxn\ had lost her love, which the other knew he possessed. •'I am resolved," said the artist, "should we. not procure news soon,« my lord, to make the whole 'affair— her whole history^pu'bli'c. The . press will "sei?e such a case with avidity ; and who can ; . tell what tinexjpected information the pfublicity may bring us?" Rut of a keenly sensitive 'artd noble disposition, • Lord Santluce shrank from the idea, for Alma's sake. "Let it at least be "your last l'esource, Rae," he rejoined. , "Alma's history is a mystery.- There must have been reasons for it. By raising the veil to admit the public gaze, w>e may be doing her an utokimfder' act than even letting the veil- retaaain '?'' Only half convinced, the artist consented, adding : ■ "We will wait, my lord ; 'but it shall bfe a last resource. Heaven grant she may not , then- be past our help." At the end of two months the house in Piccadilly was, left to the caretaker. Lord and Lady Santluce. with Dorcas, going doWns.to Willowlees. In all this trouble her l'nidysh'ip had found much comfort and support hi her young ' companion's soraety. .. '- ' ■ '•IVIy 'de-ar,'" she said. witW a slgli, "I rib not know what I should have done without you. You are so sweet, arid brave, and sympathetic. lArtooTd'to'O. has felt it. -*I am certain. I notice your presence always leems to soothe

him, even when mine fails. Some people are born to be comforters, i believe. They change the very -atmosphere around them. I rely /utterly on you, dear child, to rouse ami cheer my poor boy jwhen we are at WiMowlees. Ah, me, what a dia'ercnl place it will be to us ail on our return. Sadly dull, I fear, for you, Dorcas ; but you will not much winu 1 know."

Much' mind ! Dull !' As if there were a spoi on earth that Dorcas would have accepted in exchangeDorcas, Who thanked Heaven for its kindness to her; 1 who was overwhelmed with gratitude .that she could be of some use to the man she loved ; who, but for the sorrow t o hiia, wou'ki have blessed Afana, as the cause of it all ! Now, when Lady Santluce kissed her, the bright tears sprang *o her eyes, and she cried her old refrain : "Ah, you are too good, too good. How can I ever do enough to . provt' how grateful I am ?,'•' Then she slipped away to her own room,' and her face, buried in the cushions of a chair, found relief in tears, murmuring : "I am too happy*— hap|>y iai rendering him service. Would I could win Alma back, loving him as I love ; thon, with his face bright again and smiling before my eyes, die." Halppiness can as little bo controlled as love, and, if it must be confessed, Dorcas took a happier heart back with her to WiUowdees than she had brought away. No one pame between her and Santluce now. She was his constant companion ;. he fell into iihe habit of cori&ulfingi her tipon many, thinjgis, even as he had Alma, and, though trouble and care yet held tiheir divided throne upon his 'brow, Dorky knew that she lightened th«ir hold. Indeed, more than once she hiajd brought a smile, a brightness/ to his features, which told her,- .for those, brief moments, at. least lAlma Was forgotten. After that the smiles became, though rare, yet more frequent, and Lord Santluce began to show , a returning interest in every-<lay affairs. '*! xnwe it all to" you, 'deaif-I owe it all to you," said Lady Santluce gratefully. - Meanwhile, Lester Eae, having to utter weariness roamed the London streets, had gone abroad. Some way he must kill time, or go mad, waiting for the discovery , off some clue, or the day when he should try; thit last resource. One. i morning hse wrote to Lord Santluce : "'A ye a r now has, nearly gone, without result. .We v - are rio farther than wten we started on -this melancholy search. The" hour is v surely near when my plan shoxjld be tried. Every night I "lie 'down I. say T-erhaips I shall obtain some clve 1 to-morrow/ Every morn I arise despairing." (To be continued.)