CHAPTER I.

Observer, Volume 9, Issue 543, 25 May 1889, Page 7

CHAPTER I.

A Tbaitor to His Love.

It was a tempestuous night- The sky was pitch black ; fierce gusts went tearing down the valley like storm spirits incarnate ; the rain poured down in torrents ; sharp lightning cut through now and again, and claps of artillerylike thunder reverberated above the drenched earth. On a little eminence sloping down to the river rose an unpretentious brick structure, long, low, and dark, only a denser shadow now in the midst of shadows— The home of the Dedhams. There were but two of them left to represent the family name now, a brother and a sister. Away back, some three or four generations ago, when this now old-fashioned house was built, a Dedham, long since numbered with the departed, had brought there to rule and reign a handsome, swarthy gipsy, a woman of strong untutored passions, all concentrated, as it were, in the one all-absorbing passion— love for her husband— a woman whose love and hate were alike to be dreaded. She led him a rather turbulent life, poor roan, though nothing bo serious as a tragedy of any sort crossed it; but from that gipsy bride had come the wilful, reckless nature which cropped out from time to time in her descendants. They had been a bad race, with but few exceptions, but they were a bold, brave race as well, and all their stronger characteristics were reproduced in at least one member of the house of this day. In the big dim parlour a single astral lamp was burning, and, walking the room up and down, now in the light, now in the shadow, was Syria Dedham, mistress of the place. A tall, lithe, graceful figure, with a dusky glowing face, and long, black, feathery curls falling to her waist. A handsome girl of twenty — one of those gorgeous beauties who, like the lilies of the field, neither toil nor spin — one whose life until this night had been care-free, whose every whim had been gratified. There were sombre depths in the dusky eyes now, a cloud upon the usually bright face, a feverish restlessness in her manner, as she swept the crimson folds of her dress back and forth across the carpet. She shivered as a sharper dash of rain beat against the window-pane, and threw herself into a deep arm-chair within the radius of the lamp-light. • What a night is this 1' she muttered. 'If this were Ireland or Scotland, the banshee would surely be abroad. lam not usually superstitious, but a presentiment of evil has been coming on me all this day. Of course it is only a fancy, and I must shake it off.' She started up and began her restless walk again. 4 There is no ill with which my wildest imaginings need threaten me. lam the happiest mortal on earth, Ido believe. 1 have not one hope in life which will not be fulfilled.' It seemed so then. Her past was unclouded, her future lay fair and bright before her. Woman's most perfect bliss had come to her — the consciousness of loving and being loved. She was the bride-elect of Austin Hurlbert, and prospective mistress of Eathford Dell, a fair and stately home bordering the Hudson. The engagement had existed for three months ; it was favourably received by the few confidential friends who were in the secret, and along with her lover's constant devotion, Miss Dedham asked nothing more. Surely as fair a future as any reasonable woman need desire. While she stood gazing out of the window, one of those vivid flashes of lurid light flickered across the rain-beat landscape, and disclosed a horseman struggling in the face of the wind, up the road which branched away from the river. Suddenly all the vague dissatisfaction she had felt was gone; she leaned forward, watching eagerly until the next flash should come. It showed the solitary figure pressing on nearer than before. There was no doubt now that Dedham House was his destination. It required no prophetic instinct to tell her who was coming at that hour and in that fierce storm. There was a sharp pull at the bell a few minutes later, the sound of an entrance and of •voices in the hall, and then a familiar step approached the parlour door. It opened, and Mr .Austin Hurlbert walked into the presence of his betrothed. A very elegant young gentleman, rain-splashed, hut otherwise faultless alike in dress and features, with a complexion of the purest olive, eyes and hair and drooping moustache of the deepest black. Little wonder that Syria Dedham— that .any woman— should lose her heart to such a man .as this. She was standing in the centre of the .room now, more than handsome— beautiful— with the rare rose-flush tinging her cheeks, the eager love-light shining in her eyes, She took a step forward and gave him her hand with un--affected pleasure. ' Austin 1 Welcome, more than welcome, for having taken me so completely by surprise.' •My dear Syria ! Then you did not expect .me?' • 1 How could I, in such a storm ? I wonder you ever dared brave it.' ' It was an act of bravery,' he laughed, dropping into a seat and looking at her as she sat •down opposite ; the laugh a slightly nervous one, the look anxious and searching. 4lt was a propitious fate that sent you, certainly. I was falling a prey to the blue demons for almost the first time in my life, I believe ; but your coming has exorcised the spell.' She looked supremely content, a happy smile making her whole face radiant. 'To change the subject, without adding another morsel for manly vanity -to feed upon, have you- sent your horse to the stable, or shall I order it done for you ?' j' ; . ' Thanksi neither. I return to the Dell within '.',. : i v ' ... :■ . . There is.nothing wrong

there? Nothing has. happened to Mr Eathford? Nothing unpleasant has occurred between him and you?' 4 My uncle is well, and nothing unpleasant has occurred. There is nothing wrong at the Dell, I assure you, Syria. I did not mean to startle you with the simple announcement of my return.' 1 But in this tempest, Austin !' 4 The worst of it is over. I started in defiance of all weather-signs, and was caught in the downpour ; bat I predict that I shall be able to return by starlight before ten o'clock. Meantime ' 4 Meantime we will not disturb the pleasant hour with futile regrets. For even slight favours let us be thankful. The merest sight of you is so much more than I expected that I am content.' He moved his head impatiently, He was restless under the happy, trusting look with which she was regarding him. He had not met it straight and full for a single second ; he did not meet it now as he laughed constrainedly. Presently she noticed his uneasiness, and said : 4 Something is wrong, Austin. What is it ?' The girl arose, pale and trembling with a great undefined fear ; but even then no prescience of the truth came to her. She stood gazing at him in blank perplexity and amaze, and he looked full into her eyes at last—looked with a mocking light in his own, a mocking smile upon his lips, and yet under all a sort of nervous dread not unmingled with compassion. 4 Ah, Syria, it isn't the first time I have acted the villain,' he said, ' and I suppose it is only fate that I should prove myself so to you. I never meant to do it — I'll swear to that ; and you cannot despise me more than I despise myself for proving so weak, so mean. I don't know how to tell you, now I have come.' She reeled backward, with a quick startled cry, throwing up an arm as if to ward oft a blow. 4 You weak 1 You mean ! I doa't understand you, Austin. Ah, let all the world think as it will, to me you are and always must be my king among men 1' • Always must be ! You don't know how undeserving I am — what a traitor to your trust.' It was no easy task, this to which he had set himself, of telling the girl whose love he had won that it was a worthless prize in his possession now. 'A traitor 1' she repeated whisperingly, but passionately. If any one else should tell me that 1 What do you mean, Austin ? Not what you say ; oh never what you say !' A dogged expression settled over his face, a defiant blaze leaped into his gleaming black eyes. Opposition always strengthened his will, and he thought he knew what kind of opposition would meet him here. • You have something to tell me,' she went on, in the same low, tense way ; ' but before you utter one word, let me say that I believe in you to the uttermost. If I should lose my faith in you, Austin, I should lose my faith in all mankind. I know you have cared little for women's hearts heretofore, but you told me that was because your own was untouched. I would sooner believe the angels in heaven false, than you. All other sin, all other evil, I could forgive ; but to the day of my death I never should forgive breach of faith with vie. Now, tell me that I mistook your words ; that I am foolish to have thought you could be anything but true to me.' He did not answer one word. His silence, and the sullen, defiant look he wore, sent a chill to her very heart. 4 You never could find anyone to love you half so well as I, Austin. Your wish should always be my law, my greatest happiness to do your will. Are you angry that I should even appear to doubt you ! Oh, if you could know how I pray to be delivered from even the shadow of jealousy, you would not wonder that I seek to forestall it. Intense passion and fierce jealousy have been the bane of ray people from the time the bad gipsy blood was instilled in our veins ; I think — I think if I were ever tempted, I would be as relentless as any of those who had gone before. Now, speak ; whatever you may have to say, I am ready to hear.' Had her very life hung on his words, the brief pause which ensued could not have been more breathless. Something more than mere sullen defiance held him silent now ; for the first time in his life, perhaps, he stood really abashed and truly remorseful in the presence of the girl he had wronged. He was selfish to the core, but in his heart of hearts he cared for Syria Dedham as much as he would ever care for any one except himself. The strained eagerness went out of her face, a hard anger came in its place as a moment passed and he did not speak. ' Far be it from me to exact fidelity from any man if his heart does not offer it,' with dark eyes flashing and hands clenching as she spoke. 4 You were ready enough in offering fond words and promises, not long ago, Mr Hurlbert ; am I to understand that they are all to go for nothing with me, as they have gone with others before me ? Is it only another instance of the facility with which you can be off with the old love and on with the new ? In one word, answer me.' That imperative tone, that impelling look, were not to be gainsaid. ' I don't deserve your forgiveness, Syria ; I don't expect it,' he broke out, desperately ; ' but I have asked another girl's love, and gained her promise. Hate me if you will, despise me if you must, I swear that 1 never meant to be anything but true to you.' She was pale before, and trembling with excitement ; now a gray ghastliness stole over her face to her very lips, and a sudden icy quiet chained her from head to foot. . ' And that other ?' she quietly asked. ' Who is she?' For an instant he regarded her doubtfully, and then a name crossed his lips, reluctantly— ' Irene Angell/ She shrank a little, and put up her hands as if to ward off a blow. 1 Irene Angell ! Well, when I met with treachey from my lover, I need expect nothing better from my dearest friend.' 'Itis no iault of hers, Syria. She never knew, she never even suspected this. Our engagement was not made public ; if it had been, I should not be asking release now. Give it of not, as you choose ; you have the right to hold me to my promise if you see fit. I shall abide by your decision.' She detected the understrairi of anxiety in his

•words, and a scornful smile touched her stony face. •As if I could have any choice after what has been said here between us. You are free from every claim of mme — free as the wind that blows. Whatever may have been your motive, Austin, let me tell you this : Irene Angell will never fill your heart as I have filled it ; you will never be happy with her as you would be with me ; you will never love her as you have loved me. I will find my consolation in knowing that. There is your ring ; take it and go.' She lifted her hand, and a flashing brilliant whioh had burned upon it fell at his feet. She rose then and without another sign swept down the length of the room, out of the lamplight into the shadow, and stood by the window from which she had looked forth half an hour before. Only half an hour, and all the world seemed changed ; all her life had changed in that brief space of time. The rain had ceased, the wind had fallen, the clouds had rolled away, and the calm stars were shining. Within the room total silence fell. Hurlbert had started up, advanced a step and stood there breathless, eager, hesitating, while a long minute wore away. During that minute one look or one word from her would have brought him to her feet again, but it passed, and neither word nor look was given. Then he recollected himself, and turning noiselessly, quitted the room. She heard the clanging of the outer door, and the thud of the horse's hoofs on the gravelled drive, as he rode rapidly away. Then the parlour door was flung back by an impetuous hand, a quick light Btep crossed the carpet, a hand was laid upon her shoulder. She turned unresistingly under it, and a frank, fair, boyish face looked into hers. Her brother Brian stood before her. 'What iB up now, Syria? Have you been quarreling with Hurlbert ? I started to come in here ten minutes ago, but got a glimpse of the situation, and beat a retreat. Now, considering that my gentleman has taken such hasty leave and I find you standing like a marble statue of Grief, there is no room for doubt left. Thank your stars it is before marriage. He will be back and willing to eat humble-pie at shorter notice than when the honeymoon is over, take my word for it.' She lifted her solemn, sombre eyes and gave him a look he would never forget. 'It is something more than a quarrel, Brian. It is something which will reach to even you, poor boy, since you had a care for her. Austin has left me for Irene Angell, but as surely as I stand here and say it, she will never be mistress of Bathford Dell. 1