The Queen of The Isle OR SIBYL CAMPBELL'S LOVE

Waihi Daily Telegraph, Volume IV, Issue 1082, 1 September 1904, Page 4

The Queen of The Isle OR SIBYL CAMPBELL'S LOVE

BY MAY AGNES FLEMING Author of -TheHeinn of GlenGower," "The Unseen Mitffm," oto

confirmed him in his opinio"' ros ° lv " or 0 positively noglect Laura rather than j-;*o lior lnwlmnd further cause for jealousy. , , 'i You have left Lcm waiting oil the beacli," B\id Sybil, aomo half hour after Ilia ontrnncc. "Ishe to wait for you ?' "By Jove I I had forgottou. I must go Jown now anl toll him to rotum, said Captain Campbell, starting up. "No i ring the boil, and 1 will semi Jenny down to tell him," said Mrs. Brantwell. „ n "Neyer mind; I'll go, said Drum" mond' rising suddenly, as he thousht wnut mi excellent opportunity this would bo tn deliyoi' his note "I must bo oil', anyway, and I oan just take the beach in on my way.' " Very will," said tho yonug captain, resuming his seat. "Tell liini I wont need his services, and ho may return liome," Making his adieu, Drummond hastened out, and wont down to the beach, where Lem sat patiently sunninc himself on a log, and waiting for his musters return, " Lem," said Drummond, as ho reach cd him, "you aro to jrn back to the island without waiting for Captain Campboll.' " Yes, niassn," said Lem, " And. Lem, I went you to do men sorvee."

CHAPTER XVIII. TUB UN TO ID SECRET. Inwardly congratulating himself on his Buccossfui interview with Sybil, Wilhrd Driunmond sought his rooms to lay bis plans for tho future. Sybil must be his wifo, and that soonlove. and prido, and ambition, nil demanded it. It would be sn;h a triumph to carry off this bounty and heiresK—tliis brilliant star, who would so proudly and gloriously eclipsothe lessrr lights of New York and Washington. And yet, thoush his darker angol prompted this, ho involuntarily shrank from tho crime. What was lo bo done with Christie'? What would sho do, when sho heard of his mar-

riage? Poor, dicoived littlo Christie I , His heart 3Uioto liiic to think that ho had forgotten her already, _ | He diJ not lear her much ; it was not that which made hiiu hesitate, 'lliere ( was not a particlo of rovengo in her disposition. Meek, timid, and yielding, • ho knew if he commanded her to bo silent —saying his honour, his happiness, compelled him to act as he did-she would , fold her hands across her lowly bosom, and dte, if need' bo and "make no sign." So, he did not fear her, but ho feared himsolf. There was a flereo etrugglo going on in his brans 1 . Once there had been tho same before

11 Berry well—l's willing'." " I want you to carry a note from mo to Miss Christie." "Yes, sar," replied Lem. " You are to give it to no ono but liorself—neither to Mrs Tom nor Carl; and you must not lot anyone i lso seo you giving it, cither. Why, where tho deuce e m it be? I surely have not lost it?' All this timo he had hen searching in his pockets, but tho note ,vas nowhere to be found. Ho felt m his vest pockot, where bo had placed it, then in his coat pocket, thon back again to his lest. All in tain. Tho not? was gone. To be continued.)

Then it was between honour and passion, now it was between pity and ambition. How could ho 101 l his loying eliiht-brido that she wiuld never see him more—that he had deceived her. and was to marry another. Christio might suffer—dio if 3ho wnultl—but Sybil Campbell this regal, boailtiful heiress, this transcondently lovely queen of the isle—must be Ins wifo. Could eho bo that wl'ile Christie lived ? His bruin was in a whirl, as ho paced up anil down, still revolving tho question: 11 What next 1 Unable to answer it, ho threw himself on his bed, only to live over again tho past few woeks in feverish dreams, "Thero is no other course for it," ran

his thoughts on tho way, " but to sop her. Sybil's jealousy is not (lend, but sleoping; and, if I visit tho isle, it tuny break out in new fury, I must write a note to Christie, and send it to tho island —Lom ot Carl—and appoint a meeting after night, Yos, that is what must bo dono, Poor Christie! Poor Christio! Villion that I am, to wrong you so, But the hand of destiny is upon me, driving mo on, How is all this to end ? Ho found Sybil alono in tho drawing room, when ho onierod, Mr 3 Courtney and Mrs. Brantwell were conversing in tne sitting, while Mr, Courtney sat silently in iho depth of an elbow-chair, and scowled at them over the top of a book. Sybil's welcomo was most cordial, and they were soon engaged in an animated conversation, he said: " I have left some things I need on the island, which I supposo 1 must soon go after." "If you mention it to Guy, ho will send Lom over with them," said Sybil. "Jealous still—l know it," was his inward comment. " I presume you do not visit the Lodge yourself ?" he asked, after a pause, " No: tho island has few attractions for me now. I really would not caro much' if I nover saw it again," she replied, briefly. And tbero tho subject dropped. That evening, when Willurd roturnod to his hotel, ho sat down and indited tho following noto to Christie: "Dearest: .Forsomoroasons which I will explain whon wo meet I cannot visit you during the day. Meot mo tc night on the bench below the cottag6 any timo boiore midnight." Folding it up, ho put it in his pockot, knowing that eitlior Lem or Carl would in all probability visit N— during the day, and he could seize the first opportunity of handing it to either unobserved. and thus determined by his dovoted attontion to lull her slightest doubt to rest he set out early the following morning for the parsonage. This wa3 Thursday—tho day on which Mrs, Corn tney had promised to visit the isle.

Th l ) day dawnod clear and beautiful, and and as the family gathorcd at the Brantwell mansionjlbreakfast table, littlo did thoy drenrn of the appalling tragedy with which it wua destined to close

Sybil and hcrlovor sat in thair favourite seat in tho recess formed by a deep bay window, talking in' low lover like tones Good Mrs, Brantwoll had encased her largo proportions in a rooking chair, trying to find somo ono to talk to—a somowhat difficult task, for Mr Courtney, sitting in sullon flilenco, answored coldly and briefly, whilo his eye? continually followed his wifo, who was flutterin« in and out in a restless, breezy tort of way, looking every few minutes out of tho window, and starting violently whoncvor tlio door opened. Her husband saw it, and said to himself:

" She is lookitq for her lover, and is watching impatiently ;"jr his coming This is tho morning ho promised to tako her to tho isle."

And his eyes assumed suoh a wild glaro that Mra Brantwell looking up suddonly from her work, uttored a stilled scream, as she exe'aimod:

Gracious tue I Mr, Courtney, aro you ill ? You look like a ghost—worse than any ghost, I declare I 1 knew your wound was not properly healed. You had bettor retire and lie down."

" Thank you madam, I am perfectly woll, ho answered in a hollow tono which teli"d bis words.

Laura, absorbed by her own thoughts, had not heard this brief conversation, Yes she was watching for Captain Campbell, with a norvotisnoßs sho could not control. She wanted to eeo Inui for a moment and toll him she could not go with him, and beg hiio not to men'ion the subject in the presence of tbo others. Thoroforo. wnen at last eho espied him coming, she flow dow the stairs, and mot him in the hall.

"Really, Mrs Ccurtnoy," ho said, smiling at her ha?te, "I hope I havo not kept you waiting? 1 '

" No, no," sho answered. l: I wanted to toll you, Captain Campbell, that I cannot

go.' " Then porhaps you will como to-mor< row?" ho Btiid.

" Neither to-morrow, nor ever. J cannot explain now, but I wanted to tell you before you uiet the other." Sho did not venture to look up, but ho saw the burning (lush that swept over her face, and guosscd tho sccrot of hor husband's glooin. "My dear Mrs Courtnoy,'' ho said, gently, "there is no explanation needed. I intended setting out for Westport to-mor-row; but now 1 will start this afternoon, You will most probably bo «ono boforo I I return; and so, besides tho formal adiou I ihiill bid you upstairs, lot mo nay farewell now. Should we never mot again, I hope you will sometimes think of mo aa a friend." Hepressodber hand and passed upstairs, while Laura ran to hide her burning cheeka in tbo solitudo of hor own room. , Ihs dark, fierce glance of hatrod wmoh Mr, Courtney bestowed upon tbo oaptain

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