PRIMROSE DELORAINE

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10306, 5 August 1911, Page 2

PRIMROSE DELORAINE

OUR SERIAL.

THE MISER'S DAUGHTER.

By MAISIE PENDENNIS, Autkor of "Sir Reginald's Whim," "The Forgotten Heir," "Rival Beauties,' 'etc.

CHAPTER XX.—Continued

Suddenly her tiny hand closed moro firmly round the ivory handle of the dagger. She made a slight movement in front of the table, hiding her hand from Poker Bill's view, and with a swift, stealthy, almost imperceptible movement, drew the glittering wicked thing from the table, and concealed it in the folds of her dress. Then for a moment she paused, hesitating on the dark, ghastly threshold of crime. And as she paused Poker Bill laughed derisively. "Wish I was dead, do you?" he snarled savagely. "Well, I dare say you do, for more reasons than one. But then, you see, I'm not dead. Wish you had something to kill me with, do you? Well, vou see you haven't,.and so " He broke off. Then, striding forward, ho put his hand on her shoulder again, and gripped it in a brutal clasp; 'his hard, coarse fingers sinking cruelly into her dainty flesh. Ho held her so, shaking her two and fro much as a terrier shakes a rat, and laughed once more that maddening, taunting laugh. "You're a nice specimen, you are," ho growled; "the sort of woman to make a man what he ought to be ; but I'll teach you to mend your manners now I've come home, my girl. You don't play tricks with me. I'vo spoiled part of your little game already with that grave, solemn-faced noodle who was here just now, and I'll spoil every inch of it before I'm done. You see if I don't. It will be fine sport for me, fine sport; and —ah!" His word sended abruptly in a sudden, savage, startled oath. . At the sound of his mocking, evilish laughter, at the touch of his heavy hands, at the threatening menace of his coarse, fiendish words, the perfect frenzy of loathing and disgust that seethed within the woman's maddened soul reached its climax of raging height. Goaded to utter recklessness by all three, she swung round on him like a tigress, her eyes all aglitter with a frantic, furious light. "Coward," she breathed, "Oh, coward! coward!" Like a flash one small hand raised itself, and, as it did so, Poker Bill caught the glimpse of something in the sunlight. Something that made him back away from her instinctively with the quick, craven fear of the coward she had called him. A second later she sprang at him with the lithe, subtle swiftness of a wild animal, and the dagger gleamed downward. But even as it descended Poker Bill went out and caught hers, holding them in a vicelike grip,'arresting the sharp blade's murderous progress to- | wards his evil heart. In a trice he had wrenched the dagger with ruthless force from the weak fingers of the desperate woman that held it, and flung it from them to the other end of the room. . ,^Then,. never for aii instant releasing his grip, he pushed her down into a big, low cH*air, v and stood' over her like a grjmjtower' of strength,'; I .='. "Soy'fhe ground out between his set | teeth. "You would, would you? You fool, you weak, idiotic fool! Td think I you could kill me! Why, I oould ! crush you between my finger and thumb. Now, when you have quite realised that you are ' completely in ; my power, perhaps you will sit still like a sane, rational being, and listen i to what I have to say to you." | He frowned down at her diabolically j

from beneath his shaggy brows, a;id the woman gave a long, shuddering sigh. x Slowly the red mist of crime had faded from before her eyes, anct she saw herself as she might have oeen in another moment, if he had not caught the dagger from her hand; and she shivered and shrank, appalled at the sight. Sanity had como back to her, and she covered her face—her white, .horrified face, with trmebling hands, and crouched in the chair, in stony, frozen terror. Poker Bill watched her with >ai i.r;ioxis eyes. ~ "■■'■ ' vf--'';,;-"You owe me one good turn at the very least," he said, presently,; saved you from what we call out in. the Bush swinging for me. Don't you forget that. And one good turn deserves' andthfer, so I'veV always held." Now, listen to me, you fool, and don't sit snivelling there. I haven't got to you yet in my own plans. When I have, you shall have a benefit, I promise you; but, until then, I just want you to help' me'with a-nice, little plot I've been planning for the benefit of a much more important person than you." He paused for a moment, and chuckled to himself with malicious'glee, and his wife dropped her shaking hands slowly from beforo her ashen face, and cast a quick glance up into his suiVn eyes. Something in his tone caught her attention, making her forget for a moment how near she liad been to the threshold of crime.;. She made a swift movement to rise from her chair, but Poker Bill pushed her roughly hack again. "Sit quiet, you fool," he snarled, ;and listen to me. There's a girl, I'm ,in love with who has a pot of money. I knew her at a place called Red Tree Camp, out in the Bush, and I kidnapped her one night and a confounded bushranger called Captain Jack rescued her from me. He scored that time, but it will be my turn next. I shall be upsides with him before die, you may bet your last dollar on that!

We called her Primrose, of Red Tree Camp, and wo called her father the Miser of Red Tree Camp. When eh died he left a pot of money, and tho girl came over to England after that interfering blackguard had got her away from mo. She came, as you know, to her guardian, Sir Gerard Lesbie, and he, I'm told, has handed her over to you. I found her this morning at Lesbie Manor, and tried to kidnap her again, and then I'm hanged if another interfering fool didn J t get her away from me again. He's a dangerous fool, too, this one. He calls himself Smithers, and just now he is posing as Primrose's chauffeur; but—well I'll tell you Avho he really is later on." He paused for a moment, and frowned darkly. "Well, I've found out all about everything now," ho added, "except one thing, and I would give my life to find out that. It's this, you " He broke off. Mrs Vivian had sprung swiftly from the chair into which he had thrust her, and caught his arm in both her tiny hands, and her. forget-me-not blue eyes were glittering with excitement as they looked up into his. ; "What was the man like?" she cried; "this Captain Jack, the bushranger? I believe I can tell you where ho is. Quick! Quick! What was he like?" "Oh, nothing special," he answered, "a tall, well-set-up chap, with a brown face, clean shaven, and gray eyes, and dark hair, going gray, and a sort of general air of dare-devil recklessness. That's all I can remember, but I am not a woman or a newspaper reporter." And Mrs Vivian fell back, the breath coming in a hiss through her parted lips. "Ah!" she said, 'I am right iihen. Why, Captain Jack, the man you call Captain Jack, is Lord Eversdeno of Eversdene Castle, and Primrose is going to many him next month."

I And still once more there was silence, silence so intense that it seemed to speak. i Then Poker Bill turned 6n her with J a diabolical frown. | "That's the truth, I suppose," he growled threateningly. "If you've played with me I'll kill you. But you daren't play with me. Lord Eversdene- Great Jehosapha};! Lord Eversdene, of Eversdene Castle, in England ; and, in Australia, Captain Jack, | the bushranger, with a price on his head. What a difference!" j "A price on his head!" Valerie Vivj inn echoed. "A price on his head!" He pushed Tier back into the chair again. "Listen!" he marled. "I've got lots more to say to -you yet. We've got to do the trick, you and me, with a bit of extra help thrown in. We've got to get Primrose a,way from Captain Jack, and we've got to send Captain Jack to the fate he deserves, and incidentally to look after ourselves, and mind that confounded Smithers do us in the eye. That's a nice little programme, isn't it? Now listen." He leaned forward, and began to talk, and Valerie Vivian "sat and listened. And as she listened the demon of jealousy and revenge tore again at her soul, waxing stronger and stronger. In her heart there was not one thought of Gerard Lesbie, the man i who had loved her so faithfully and j well, arid whom she had deceived so j cruelly; no pity. No thought or pity for the innocent girl whose life threads had become so strangely tangled with her own. No consideration for Lord Eversdene, the man she had once loved as such women as she love, and now hated as such women as she hate. Nothing but a mad, evil triumph. A wild, pitiless longing for revenge at all costs.

S It was a day later. The pale radiance of the spring sunshine lay in a glory of faint gold over the beautiful old-world gardens surrounding Eversdene Castle, and touched with its magic light all the sweet spring flowers that reared their dainty heads in the quaint, triangular beds. It shone, too, on Primrose, Deloraine, and turned the brightness of her hair 'to, a' golden fire as she stood in the heart of the gardens by the side of the man she loyed; a white, sweet figure with the yellow daffodils all about her. Happy Primrose! Life seemed sweeter, more joyous to her than ever before, for she had spent such a lovely day; a day of enchantment, ful of rose-colocred magic hours. Only tliat morning Lord Eversdene • had motored her and Sir Gerard'down to the Castle from London, in one of his numerous motor cars, to see the alterations that were bing made in the rooms that were to be specially i her own; all the things that her love's I tender, unfailing forethought had planned to make more beautiful and perfect still for his sweet bride-to-be the home that was already beautiful' and perfect. ; Together they two had wandered through the stately spacious rooms, Irimrose holding her breath m a sort of awe. It was the first time she had been all over the Castle, arid the splendour, and beauty of it all sank deep into her, sensitive soul. (To be Continued).