LITERATURE.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 6788, 27 February 1890, Page 1

LITERATURE.

THE STEEL AMULET. {All the Year Bound.) Chaptee I. •"There was a sound of revelry by night" the usually quiet precincts of Bedford square. Carriages, and cabs drove up in quick succession and deposited their initiates upon the strip of carpet that led the ■way up the broad step 3 of No. 88. Striped awnings flattered overhead, and the solid old house vibrated to the footsteps of dancers and rangwith the tuneful strains of fiddles and clarionets. It was not exactly a fashionable gathering perhaps, although rank and fashion were duly represented, but there were literary lions in plenty; learned professors brought their wives and daughters; dark-skinned Orientals were there in flowing robes and adorned ■with glittering jawels. There was a yellow beauty from China and a brown Eanee from India, with a homely face in a gorgeous setting of gold aud precious stones; there were fair Americans, delicate and fragile as porcelain, and a black Princess from the Congo, with a massive gold ring through her nose, attracted some attention. But, of all the young women present, there wa3 none to compare— at all events in the opinion of Herbert Shepstone, the eldest son of the house — with pretty Louise Oornely, with her dark, wavy hair, classic profile, and deep violet eyes, that shone upon the observer with a soft, mysterious radiance when she raised her dark-fringed eyelids and turned toward him. Louise was a friend of the house, and, if she had a chaperon atall, it was Mrs Shepstone herself, who, in her capacity of hostess, was much too busy to look after her. Hence there was nobody to tell her that she was dancing too much with Mr Herbert. But then he was most to blame for insisting on filling up her programme, and, after all, she liked him best, and it ■was a real pleasure to dance with him. As for Colonel Shepstone, who might have given his son a hint upon the matter, he ■was quite out of hi 3 element ia a ballroom, and had retired to a quiet corner with two or three learned friends, where they wore discussing some interesting point connected ■with Buddhist inscriptions in India. Colonel Shepstone was noted as an Orientalist, and also a3 a rich virtuoso and collector. But the talk between the Colonel and his friends was not altogether of a rigidly scientific character. There was an element of personal gossip in it. " I see you have got Cornely's daughter here/said Professor Higgins, a man with a very .ugly but kindly and humorous face, "and a Bweet-looking thing she is," continued the Professor, "I hope she has heard nothing — " "About what?" asked the Colonel, sharply. " Oh, there is nothing definite ; but there are rumours that Cornely's expedition has come to grief, and there are fears as to his safety." "Oh, Comely is all right," said the Colonel, dogmatically. " A. man like that knows how to take care of himself." Prom Colonel Shepstone's manner it was evident that Mr Comely Jwas no great favourite of his. Comely, indeed, might be called a j>rofessional explorer. He hunted down buried cities and ancient burial places. Kg dug, he excavated, he brought home all kinds of objects, and sold them sometimes to pubiic museums, both home and foreign, sometimes to private collectors like Colonel Shep3tone. Some hard bargains he had driven with the latter had irritated the Colonel against him. And then Comely, who was a great linguist, had severely criticised some of the Colonel's translations. Still, Shepstone was too just a man to visit the misdoings of the father upon the daughter. ' Louise wa3 the bosom friend of his daughter Bessie, and he bad never objected to that friendship. But when, in the course of the evening, a good-natured female friend inquired "If it were really tho case, as everybody said, thab Herbert was engaged to Miss Cornely — his attentions were so marked," the Colonel, while dismissing the notion with a laugh, inwardly resolved that ho would give Master Herbert a good talking to on the morrow. But the evils of procrastination were once more exemplified. Before the evening was over Herbert had plainly told his love to Louise, and had made the delightful discovery that his affection was warmly reciprocated. Ail this had been settled during ths progress of a dance which the lovers had sat out together in a sheltered nook of the conservatory. The girl's chief misgiving was, "What will Bessie say to me ? " for certainly their friendship had not been designed for any such result. The two girls had drawn from the same cast at the museum ; it was Antinous, and certainly, now that Louise came to think of it, the head was just like Bertie's. They had studied the same books, practised the same music, and had agreed that one day they would share the same studio and devote themselves to art and to kindred subjects in the spirit of free and unfettered womanhood. But all this time Bertie wa3 an unknown quantity. He was with his regiment in the East, and it was only within the last four months, when the young man had been quartered at Aldershot, that Louise had come to know him ; and there was something so fresh and new about him that when he began to make love to her she found him quite irresistible. And Bessie was indeed angry and indignant when in the course of the evening Bertie whispered to her the secret. " Eubbish," she said. " Father will never permit it. And Louise is a regular little serpent. Why, only a little while ago, I know she thought of nothing but her father's handsome secretary, George Melitua, and I am sure she wears his portrait next her heart. I have noticed it ever since he left, and she will not show it to me or to anybody." Bertie told his sister she was a little traitress, which did not mend matters. But Beasie had landed the shaft of jealousy fairly and truly in his manly breast. For he had noticed this locket, or whatever it ■was, that Louise thus cherished, nestled snugly within her corsage, just out ot sight, •except when partially revealed in the exertion of the dance. In the next waltz that he danced with Louise, Herbeit artfully introduced the subject: " Dearest," he whispered, as they rested ■for a moment after a long Bpin, " you must wear my portrait now instead of that locket you treasure so carefully .'* Louise looked up with a shade of alarm in her violet ejes. "It is not a locket," she said ; "it i 3 an amulet — a charm." " May I look at it ?" asked Bertie, holding out his hand. "Indeed, no!" replied Louise. "It is my secret, and you must not ask anything about it." Bertie's face clouded a littl *. " But if I were your husband — and novs 1 am your promised spouse — you woulc tell me!" Louise looked distresEed as she replied " I can't make such wild suppo ations ?but when my father comes home, whicl will be soon I hope, then I can tell you aL about it." " Ah ! then George Mtlitus willbehome too,'' susrsested Herbert jealously. " Ha? Bessie been talking to you abou George?" asked Louise, with an injurei air. " He' is a kind of cousin, you know Bessie does not like him ; but he is a nic toy— a distant ioußin of ours, and so de

voted to papa. But you don't know all our family," she continued, aB if anxious to change the subject. " There is Aunt Irene; she is so kind and good, but suffers so much; and there is Constantia, George's sister, you know, who helps me to take care of aunt. lam glad you did not see Conatantia fir3t ; she is like me, people say, the same size and figure." "I can imagine she is charming," said Herbert, with an adoring smile. "Ah! but she is more so." . Just then a clock on a bracket hard by gave a warning note, and Louise glanced hastily at her watch. "It is midnight, Bertie, and I must be gone. Will you see if anybody has come for me ? " "Don't your spells work after midnight, you little witch/ said Bertie, laughing. "No, indeed, you shall not go yet." But Colonel Shepstone himself appeared upon the scene. " Miss Comely, your people have come for yon. lam sorry we are to lose you so soon $ but I know how anxious you are." And the Colonel, taking Louisfi under his wing, conducted her to the hall, where her faithful attendants, Luigi and Nurse Blake, were waiting to convey her home. Bertie could only wave a silent farewell, for the Colonel angrily ordered him eff to look after his other guests, and the Colonel's word was law in his own household. It was only a stone's throw from Bedford square to the Russell Mansions, where the Cornelys occupied a 9at on the first floor. Everything was handsomely appointed about the place. Cornely's profession might be a risky one ; but apparently it was lucrative enough, for the whole household bore the appearance of comfort, if not of opulence. Turkey carpets deadened the footsteps. Indian rugs and richly carved objects in blackwood and 6andalwood were scattered about. A musky, Oriental perfume hung about everything. As Louise entered the portals of her own home, a young woman — it was Constantia — glided to meet her. "All is well, dear," she said, kissing her. " Your aunt is enjoying a peaceful sleep, and now I will help you to undress and put you to bed." " Indeed, you will not," said Nurse Blake, who had closely followed her young mistress. " Nobody touches my young lady's things while I am here to do it." "Really, you must humour old nurse," whispered Louise, " and get some vest yourself; you want it more than I do." Constantia sent an evil look toward Nurse Blake and swept gracefully away. " Oh, ye serpent, ye viper," muttered nurse, as she followed her young lady into her room. But Blake was by no means active as a tire woman, find Louise soon sent her off to bed and, seating herself by the fire, for tho evening was chilly, fell into a pleasant reverie upon the new and indefinite but brightly tinted future that imagination opened to her. Then suddenly she was disturbed by what felt like the touch of a cold finger on her neck. It was her amulet, which she must have pressed unconsciously. And then she remembered what her father had told her, half in jest, it seemed, that this talisman would warn her of coming danger if she paid hoed to its indications. It was strange, too, how much importance her father attached to that precious amulet. She was to wear it night and day ; on no accpunt to remove it from her neck. The silken cord by which it hung covered a chain of steel, thin, but very strong. The amulet itself was of steel, damascened with gold, with an inscription in Arabic letters on the front of it. This little casket might not be opened. Her father had shown her the secret of it, but he had forbidden her to open it unless in dire distress or in the event of certain knowledge of his death. As a check upon a natural feminine curiosity he told her that if once opened, no human power could close it again, and that she would incur by her thoughtlessness the anger of the guardians of the talisman, whoever they might be. Louise did not take all this very seriously. So far the amulet had not exerted its powers in any way, unless it were in getting her into a small scrape with her lover, afc the thought of which she smiled softly to herself. She was not ill-pleaEed that he eliould be a little jealous. The house was now perfectly still, and even the distant roar of London streets had ceased, while the church clocks all round — unheard and unthought of in the bustle of daily life — could bow be heard, one taking the note from another as they tolled out the mystic 1 , hour of three. How quickly the time had flown ! Then in the stillnes3 of the night sbe heard the handle of the door gently tried. The door was not locked, and it was opened softly. The hangings of the bed were between Louise and the door, and she could not see who entered. But someone had entered, had parted the bed curtains, and, finding the couch untenanted, was coming with quick, stealthy tread across the room. Louise caught a glimpse in the pier glass of a strained, white face and of a hand that bore aloft some glittering instrument. And then the spell that bound her to her chair was overcome by the force of her terror. She sprang to her feet and confronted Conetantia. There was no mistaking the momentary gleam of anger and disappointment in Constantia's ejes ; but it was only momentary. " You wicked girl," she cried, gaily. " I knew you were asleep in your chair. Come, get to bed, or you will look like a ghost tomorrow, or, rather, to-day." " But you look like one now," said Louise, shuddering. " Constantia, I thought you had come to murder me. " What, with these nail scissors ?" said Constantia, showing for a moment a pair of bright steel pliers." A formidable weapon, ia it not? But, dearest, what a curious thing that is about your neck. May I examine it ?" stretching out her strong, white arms toward the amulet, which, juet at that moment, seemed to Louise to give a throb in answer to ,the throbbing within her own bosom. But just then Aunt Irene'j bell rang. Nur3e Blake and Luigi were stirring ab once at the sound. Constautia glided off in the same direction. Followed by Louise, who, throwing a wrap about her shoulders, hastened to see what was the matter. (To be continued.)