THE NOVELIST

Observer, Volume 1, Issue 9, 13 November 1880, Page 71

THE NOVELIST

By Adolphb Belot.

HUNTED DOWN. A WOYEL.

CHAPTER I.—THE MURDER. AT seven o'clock on the morning of the 20th October, 18—, the coach, winch at that date still furnished the means of communication between Liverpool aud London, deposited at its halting place in a court of the baracen a Head, two females eminently calculated to attract attention. Both young and remarkably handsome, their carriage and personal appearance generally betrayed at a glance an origin undoubtedly foreign; one of them moreover, was of a type full of startling coutrasts. Her brow was of a purity almost angelic, her eyes were large, blue, and exquisitely sweet, but on her full and pouting lips passion stood confessed, whilst her clearly denned eye-brows, nearly meeting in the centre, revealed an indomitable will Her complexion approached that of a brunette, enriched with the rosy tints of youth, and masses of blue-black hair surrounded a face whose perfect oval might have been envied by the virgins of Perugino. It was evident that the warm rays of an Italian sun had left thenimpress on both her countenance and her mind. uleanor was, indeed, a Genoese, her companion, a tall and hand ome brunette of shapely figure, an nglishwoman. The former hesitated to leave the conveyance, and seemed to await a friendly arm, but suddenly overcoming her hesitation, she made her way to the room where the arrival of the passengers was awaited by their friend--. She evidently did not find the person whom she expected to see there, for after a rapid survey of the room she hurried into the street. There, also, her scrutiny was futile, and with an air of thorough dissappointment, she rejoined her companion, who by this time had descended from the coach, and was occupied in paying the fares. "He is not there ! What can be the meaning of it?" cried she on approchiug her. "But 1 hear a carriage ; it must be he." _ With petulant haste, in itself charming, she rushed towards a carriage then entering the court, but returned almost at once. " -o " she said in a tone of vexation, "it is a gentleman, but oh ! so ugly. It is not my husband." . "Are you quite sure that he has received your letter?" asked Mary. , "Why not? I put it in the post myself at Liverpool before we left." - "Then Mr. Hardcastle must have overslept himself. Did he not say in one of his last letters that he had been obliged to discharge his servant, and was living alone." '"-Yes, but do you think he could sleep while he was expecting me ? You don't know how he loves me," added she, with a bewitching smile which exposed to view her pearly teeth. All this was said with rapid haste, for Fleanor, with true southern vivacity, seized hap-hazard on any word wliich the other did not furnish quickly enough. " What are we to do now ? said Eleanor at last.

"Call a cab, and make our way to your husband's apartments.' "And suppose he crosses us?' " We shall see him, or at all events they will tell him here that we have gone, and he will come after us " " Come, then," said Eleanor, looking round the court again in vain. The vehicle which had brought the ugly individual was on the point of leaving, and Mary hailed it. " What is the matter with you ? " she cried, as Eleanor sighed deeply on taking her seat. ' ' I am — I had pictured to myself so much joy in one more entering with him under that roof Avhere t have experienced such happiness since my marriage." " But, my dear mistress, you are going to rejoin him there. ' " I do not know, I am afraid." "What an idea! Do you think he is ill? He never is. Besides, have you not had news of him within the last two days ?" "it is of no use, I am uneasy," Eleanor could not help saying, " this cab is so slow ; we shall never get there. What need has the driver to choose Portland Street to reach St. John's Wood ? it is far too long." "He takes us for strangers," replied Mary, " and he is artful enough to present London to us under its most seductive aspect." Our two travellers, felt, perforce, all these impressions. Gazing from the windows of their cab they saw will all their eyes, and appreciated with all their heart.

Eleanor forgot her ill-humour, and not a trace of uneasiness remaiued on her lovely countenance. But a short space separated her from him she so longed to see once more, hut a few minutes could elapse hefore she would take him by surprise at home. She even rejoiced that he had not met her. "He never received my letter, and he does not expect me," said she. " How happy he will he ! " The blush of joy overspread her cheeks, her eyes sparkled, and she smiled on the passers-by, who stopped in admiration of her beauty. Suddenly, the cab quitted the main-street, and, entering St. John's Wood, stopped at the door of No. 6 i rcadia Road. Eleanor's first movement was to look up at the windows of the house. "It is not open," she cried, "the lazy fellow, he is asleep." And, without paying any attention to her companion, but leaving her to settle with the driver and arrange about the luggage and all the miscellaneous articles with which the cab was laden, she burst open the door, leaped out, rushed past Avithout a word, ran up a flight of stairs, and pulled the bell with an eager hand. Some seconds elapsed, and the bell remained unanswered. She gave a second peal, and listened. Not a sound came from the room. " I was right," she said to herself, "he has. gone to meet me, and we have passed each other oa the road,"

" Will you dear Mary go and see if he is at the coach office ?" " Yes," replied Mary, and a cab passing, she got into it. She had chanced on a remarkable one, for the horses broke at once into a gallop. fleanor resigned herself to wait, but she could not rest. She walked feverishly to and fro in the street, casting unceasing glances on the still darkened windows. As she looked intently at them she thought she could perceive that the blinds were down, so that complete darkness must reign in the room. Her husbao d, then, was not yet up. Very soon Mary returned. " Well ? " cried Eleanor to her.

Mary replied l>y shaking her head. F.leanor then sent for a locksmith who tried the door, which to his great astonishment was not locked, and the door opened at the first attempt. Eleanor sprang into the room. She crossed the outer room, the dining-room, the drawingroom ; everything was in its wonted state. She entered the bedroom, the door of which was wide open. All at once Mary heard a scream— a terrible scream. She ran toward the sound. In the middle of the room lay ileanor insensible. Close to the bed, half on the floor and half resting against the mattress, was stretched a corpse, covered with blood — the body of a man assassinated — and on an open memorandumbook, such as is used by men on the Exchange, were these Avords, written in blood — "i-leanor, avenge me— the assassin's name — " Death had laid his icy grasp on the hand of the victim at the moment when he was about to write the name of his murderer. On the law now developed the task of completing the unfinished sentence. [To be continued.']