Rogues In Arcady.

Thames Star, Volume LIX, Issue 16798, 28 May 1926, Page 3

Rogues In Arcady.

OUR SERIAL STORY

Jbsy Sill WILLIAM MAGNAY, Bart. (Author of ‘The Red Chancellor, “The Master Spirit,” “A Prince of Lovers,” etc.)

CHAPTER XXIV. . “Sibyl, my darling,” lie said, gently bending down to her face and only just resisting the temptation to let his lips touch it, “tell me that you are not hurt, you are not in pain.” That she was rapidly returning to complete consciousness he could see, with relief. “My head pains me,” she answered rather wearily. “But J shall be all right directly. How stupid of me to come off like that. Chanticleer must have got his hoof down a rabbit-hole.” “Yes; it was a bad stumble. Thank heaven you fell clear and are not much hurt. No bones broken.” “No.” She made an effort to smile. “I think if you helped me I could get up.” He put his arm round her and lifted her to her feet. She walked, leaning on him, a step or two. “No, no bones broken,” she said, with a laugh. “But my head aches horribly.” A man came near on his way across the heath. Richard beckoned to him. “Can you ride?” he asked him. The man answered thqt he could. “Then ] jump on this horse,” Richard said, as he caught the bridle, “and go as quickly as you can to the Hall. Say Miss Brayshaw has had a fall. She is not hurt, only shaken, and can’t well ride home. Tell them to send a> conveyance here for her at once.” The man mounted and rode off; then Richard, securing Sibyl’s horse, went back to her. “I am so sorry to have spoilt your ride,” she said. “You have not spoilt it,” he assured her. “I must have been riding carelessly; j not looking where I was going. It was so absurd to come off so easily.” “Unlucky, not absurd. Is your head better?” “A little. It still aches. I must have gone down with a bang. Was I unconscious for long?” “Only a few minutes; long enough, though, to make me horribly frightened,” he said. “I am sure you were,” she responded feelingly. “I am so sorry.” He smiled. “You need not be for me,” he protested, with something like exultation in his voice. “You will think me an unlucky riding companion.” “No, no! How can I think so? Where should I have been the other day but for you?” “You might not have been in that lane at all. But I must not let you talk. It will make your head worse.” She put out her hand impulsively. “You must let me say I am very grate, ful to you,” she said, with a bewitching smile. “I dare say I owe you more to you than I am. aware of.” “Indeed, no,” he protested. “J did nothing except pick you up. And for that I have been out of all proportion rewarded.” Something in his tone made her look at him quickly. “How?” she asked. “What do‘you mean?” “By something I heard you say.” She 'blushed furiously. “People say foolish things when they are only half conscious.” “They do, sometimes,’ he replied.

“Still, J. have an idea this was not foolishness, but the truth. Shall I tei] you what you said?” “No,” she answered, regaining command of herself. “At least not now.” She leaned back, pressing her hand to her head, and so they stayed in silence scarcely broken till the carriage arrived. Early in the afternoon Marion, having finished her shopping in Gilchester and having had luncheon at a pastrycook’s, strolled down the High Street towards the railway station. Before the principal hotel a motor-car was standing. As she passed, its owner came out and, recognising her, raised his cap. It was Major Flordon, whom she remembered well as haying taken her in to dinner, one evening during his stay at Gresford Hall. “Oh, Miss Cardon, if you are bound for Long Gresford, can we give you a lift?” he asked, with the tendency of men of his stamp to be civil to a handsome girl. “Mrs Flordon is with me; we are on our way to Draxford to stay with the Fieldings, and stopped here for luncheon.” (To be continued.)