THE ROOM OF SECRETS.

Taranaki Herald, Volume LXI, Issue 144132, 30 June 1913, Page 5

THE ROOM OF SECRETS.

BY WILLIAM LE QUEX,

CHAPTER ll.—(Continued.) A few moments later, and the door reopened to admit a tall, fair-haiied young girl in a pretty dinner gown ot pale nine, cut discreetly low as became one of her age; for she die not look more than eighteen; Her remarkable sweetness and beauty, held me entranced. I sat gazing at her tor a second, then sprang to my feet to bow as we were introduced. Hers was a face, pale, oval and refined, more beautiful than I had ever before gazed upon. Prosaic bachelor that I was, I had met and flirted with many pretty girls and handsome women, but none had ever before attracted, me so instantly as did.the now stood upon the hearthrug* radiant and smiling. , , , ~ Tall, slim and graceful, from the white osprey in her soft fair hair to the tip of her tiny blue .'hoe, her figure was perfect; her countenance with those great eyes of deep intense blue was the incarnation of feminine sweetness. Her chin was slightly protruding her mouth small and well-shaped; while her cheeks still possessed the fresh bloom of youth. ' Her soft bare arms were white and well-rounded, upon one wrist she wore a platinum'bangle set with diamonds, similar to that worn by the child, while across her fair hair was a band of dark violet velvet. “Jessie has just been telling me of her adventure, Mr. Colefax,” she said, as she sank into a chair near (by, and stretched forth a neat silk-stockinged ankle from beneath the hem of her gown. “I’m sure it was exceedingly kind of you to bring her home. She’s gone to'bed quite exhausted.’’ “The first adventure in her young life,” . Koop . remarked with a smile. He cast his quick eyes in the girl’s direction, and 1 became convinced that in his glance was a hidden meaning. My surprise was increased a second later when, quite plainly, I became aware of an alteration in the expression upon her face. She had seen his meaning look, and of a sudden had apparently become filled by pn intense nervous anxiety. Why, I 'could not imagine. Onco again the old man clapped his hands, and the faithful Ibrahim reappeared. ' “Some coffee for Miss Joan,” he ordered. “No, father—no! I -won't cried the girl, springing up from her chair as though in sudden alarm. • “You will have some coffee,” declared in quite a hard, determined voic6- “It will do you good before you go to bed.” “It won’t. It will only keep me awake,” she protested, her face now drawn and pale as death. “I have ordered it for you, Joan,” was Koop’s quiet response,. a response which" was at the same time a command. I had noticed his dark, intense, unusual eyes. They were now fixed upon her with a distinctly evil expression—a steady gazb beneath which the girl visibly quivered" and sank slowdy back into her chair. “I—l really don’t want any, father. I—l’m ranch better without it. Coffee docs not agree with me—you know that.” ' ' “Except sometimes,” 1 ho remarked, with a strangely grim, smile. ■ “Our friend here has just had some.” “You—Mr. Colefax!” she gasped, starting, her face white as paper. “Have you had some?” “Certainly, why?” I asked in wonder, for the old man cast her a quick look of defiance. “We’ve both had some,” her father interrupted. “Ibrahim makes it excellently. What is your fjpinion?” he asked, turning to me. “I have never tasted better,”. I responded. But the girl, holding her breath in what appeared to bo a sudden terror, sat staring at mo blankly, as ono in a dream. Her attitude was certainly most mysterious. That expression in her blue yes puzzled me. “I—l hate that silent man Ibrahim,” she declared suddenly, as though giving expression to her feelings, which she had long striven to suppress. “Why, my dear?” asked her father. “Is he not a most trustworthy servant ?” “To you—perilous,” she replied, hoarsely, her arched brows contracting. At that moment the man, moving silently, entered bearing tbo one tiny clip of cnitcc upon the salver. He halted before her. touching his brow with his fingers, his brown face impassive as he stood there like a statue. She drew back from him with a gesture almost of loathing, hesitating to take from the tray the tiny cup in its golden holder. Her father's eyes were fixed upon her with, a fierce, intense, compelling expression. “Is it freshly made?” inquired Ko«p of the Arab. “Vccs. my master,” was the reply. “I—l really don’t want it,” declared the girl wearily, for she was now lying back in the big arm-chair in an attitude A utter inertness. Nevertheless,

sho stretched forth her white hand hesitatingly and took the onp. Her hand trembled as her eyes met my gaze. Her beauty had already vanished, and in its place was a look of abject terror. iShe held the cup poised in her hand, while the stern, eager eyes of both master and servant were fixed upon her. Why were they thus compelling her to take the coffee against her will? Some evil was certainly intended. I was mystified. Joan’s attitude was one of most fearsome dread. She looked at mo with appealing eyes—wdth a glance which told rao that she earcstly desired to reveal to me some terrible and unexpected truth. “Drink it, and let Ibrahim go, Koop commanded impatiently, for the Arab was standing erect and impassive awaiting the empty cup. “I will not!” cried the girl in defiance. “I refuse!” Her father rose, his grey face suddenly scarlet in anger. “You dare disobey me, girl!” he cried, standing^before her. “Remember what happened on the last occasion you refused.” “Ah!” shrieked the girl, suddenly falling upon her knees before her father and his Arab servant.- “Be merciful! Spare me 1 Oh ! I—l can’t I —l can’t!”' , “You shall!” he snapped, determinedly.

“But, Mr. Koop,” I interrupted, unable to bear the scene any longer, “is this quite fair to your daughter? Why should you compel her to drink that coffee?” “Because I intend to break her obstinacy, sir,” he snarled, turning upon me. “When sho defies mo she is well aware of the consequences.” ‘’For what reason are you so desirous that she should drink?” I demanded angrily, starting to my feet. “I will not remain and see a young lady treated in this outrageous manner. It is inhuman !”

“My affairs are my own, sir,” ho retorted, “and I shall thank you for not interfering.”] Upon his face I saw a look of hitter hatred as again ho turned to her, and, laying his hand roughly upon her bare shoulder, commanded, in a slow, low voice; . “Drink, Joan, or I will speak. 1 will tell this man the truth.” “Ah! no!” she shrieked in terror, her whole frame trembling. “If you do I—l’ll ” . ■ “Enough I” he cried. “Drink—and let Ibrahim go.” “She shall not!” I exclaimed. “Some evil is intended. Miss Joan, tell me the truth.” ■ - “Yes,”-laughed Koop, with a sneer, “Tell this 'gentleman the truth. He would, no doubt, find it most interesting.” 1 He was standing before her, his shoulders slightly bent, arms outstretched, and his thin, claw-like hands half-closed in eagerness, the halfcrouching attitude of a wild beast ready to spring upon his prey. “Cannot you tell me the truth?” I asked of her in a tone of sympathy. “No—by heaven! no!” shrieked the ■girl. “You do not know; you can never dream what he asks me to reveal to yon.” “Drink now—at once,” her father urged, “or I myself will’speak. Now—not art insfant longer will 1 delay. Drink!” “No!” I, urged. “Give tlio stuff—whatever it is—to me.” And I made' a movement to take it from-her hand. At that., moment, however, with her terror-stricken eyes still fixed upon mine, she uttered' a loud, weird, hysterical laugh, and next second she had placed the tiny cup to her lips and; swallowed the contents at a single gulp, her father grinning in triumphant satisfaction. Then Ibrahim, impassive, receiving the empty cup, bowed low-, and without moving a muscle of his brown, scarred face, moved swiftly and silently'from the room. , ■What, I wondered, could be the terrible secret which, by obeying her father, Joan had once more preserved? (To be continued.)