Bad Lord Lockington.

Waikato Times, Volume 89, Issue 13751, 26 April 1918, Page 7

Bad Lord Lockington.

BY & FLORENCE WARDEN, 'Author of "The House on the Marsh," &c.

(all rights reserved.)

CHAPTER XX. (Continued.) "By Jove!" she heard him say, in a low voice which expressed the utmost consternation. Edna took courage, and pressed the point: "Are you his cousin? Tell me, please," she pleaded humbly. He laughed, rather drily, and not as if really amused, she thought. "It's a most astonishing suggestion," he said at last; "and you can tell her so. Tell her that she would be very much surprised, if she saw me, at her own notion about me.'Jj "Well, are you Lord Lockington himself, then?" "Don't press me with questions which I can't answer. I admit that, in refusing to tell you all you want to know, I am doing so partly to satisfy somebody's whim — whether my own or some %ther man's I won't say. But that is not my sole reason for caution: I am in a position of difficulty, and I have td do the best I can to gratify a dear-friend, on the one hand, and to keep a secret of some importance on the other. It is, therefore, of no use at all to press me on these points of identity. I've done my utmost in promising that you shall see me within the month. As for the rest, you must either take it on trust, or refuse to do so. There's no other alternative. If you won't come with 1110 under the conditions I 've told you of—if you won't come blindfold, literally blindfold, as I've saidwell then, I can't blame you, and I will only say I'm very sorry 1 can't let you come in any other way."

There was another silence. "You're asking more than anyone could do," said Edna at last, almost whispering. "Perhaps I am. But let me ask you: supposing I were Lord Lockin gton—l don't say I am, or that I'm not—but supposing that I were—would you come with me blindfold then?"

"Yes," said Edna, stoutly. 'He seemed rather touched, she thought. At least, his voice was very soft as he went on, after a little pause:

"What! After all the dreadful things you've heard about him?" "I never heard anything dreadful," said Edna, stoutly; "I don't count vague things like gossip as dreadful. But supposing I had heard dreadful things, I shouldn't believe them, for all I've ever known of Lord Lockington has been so good—nothing but good," she ended, breathlessly. "Well, then, if you were sure Jh«y was Lord you would come with me. no matter who the man was who wanted to see yea!" "Yes; oh, yes." "But supposing I were not Lord Lookington, but that it was Lord Lockington who was ill and who wanted to see yen, would you ccmc then?"

"Oh, of course, of course I would. How can you ask me?" panted Edna. "Well, and have you any reasonable doubt that one or other of the suppositions I have laid before you is the truth?" persisted the unseen man, pressing his point home with an emphatic gesture of the one hand which she could see. She hesitated. "I'll come,'' she said, hoarsely. "I don't ask you, now that you have promised, to play fair right through to the end," said he, gently, "for I'm sure you will. Trust yourself in my hands, and you shall come to no harm. But first, in case you may find the experience rather painful, rather a pitiful one, I'll tell you something about the man who wants to see you "

"Lord L " began Edna, but checked herself, and said: "Yes, yes, I'm listening."

"The man, then, who wants to see you, the man who thinks he has some reason to be grateful to you, is not quite sane." A little cry of horror escaped involuntarily from the girl's lips. - "Do you mean that he's mad, really mad?" she asked, in a whisper. "No, I don't mean exactly that. I believe, that is, he would pass a medical examination and tests for his sanity easily enough. But for all that, his experience has been such as to render him abnormal, morbid, savage, in fact—l think I may say it —insane. Not through inability to®reason, but through the maddening result of being able to reason too clearly, of seeing the logical result of circumstar.ces too well."

It seemed to Edna that this description applied to Lord Locking-

ton period ly, but she Raid nothing, and remained quite still, careful not to lose a word uttered by the muffled voice. 9 "Cut off by misfortune from his fellow-men, abandoned bj those he cured for the mest, he seen. a savage, and did im. | something of a cynic—ii,* •.. "now what that means?"' 1 - "] think «V' said Edna, modestly. "It means having a low opinion of everybody, doesn't it?" "That's it exactly. And it's an unhealthy frame of mind, and may lead to actions winch the man himself would be ashamed of in a healthier, saner mood. Well, this man could not find consolation in cynicism, or in philosophy—couldn't find it all, in fact—so he indulged in vagaries which have ended by bringing him to grief. I have told you all this because I want you to be sorry, for him. I want you to feel for him as I do. And it is because 1 myself have indulged his whims, his eccentricities, for love of him, knowing the man, that I want you to help me by doing the same. Now my lecture's over. Come close to this cabinet, turn your back to me, and let me bind this handkerchief"—and he suddenly produced, and passed out for her inspection, a very large, soft, white silk handkerchief —"round your eyes." "All right," said Edna, rather unsteadily, as, with a heart that beat very fast indeed in spite of all her assumed stoicism, she came obediently up to the cabinet, and turned her back to it.

She heard the doors open, and felt a disconcerting rush of damp, cold air. But setting her tetfh hard, she stood her ground, folded her hands tightly together, and drew her very quickly as the handkerchief was adjusted round her head by a pair of hands which she felt to be as strong as they were tender. There was no nonsense about the tying; she could see nothing whatever when the handkerchief was knotted behind her head. Then, and not till then, a spasm of repentance, a feeling that she had promised too much, seized her and made her utter a little faint cry, while at the same time her hands went instinctively up to her face. •

In an instant a hand had seized both hers, and held them fast, while the voice she now began to know so well, and the tones of which ohc found irresistibly com-! polling, said: "No, no, you mustn't break faith. But I'll give you one more chance. If you've changed your mind; if you feel that your nerves will not be strong enough to stand the ordeal, and I don't say it's anything but a severe one—why, then I'll let you take off the bandage, or I'll take it off myself, and let you go i back to civilised parts again without another protest." Edna was panting hard, and almost sobbing. But she conquered hftrsell and said faintly; "No, no. If it's Lord Lockington who wants me to do this—whether you are Lord Lockington, or whether it is tor him I ha\e to go—l won't go back, I won't, I won't. Look here"—she was agitated, restless, eager, as she thrust forward her two trembling hands towards him, and went on—"tie my hands, tie them, tie them. Then I shan't be able to break my promise, even if 1 feel frightened." He laughed gently, and hesitated.' "I don't quite like to do that," he said. "I. think I'd rather trust you. Come now, be brave. Give me your hand and let me draw it through my arm, so. And don't mind if you find the walk cold and damp.'" "Oh!"

Already she had an inkling of the se~' r ' * iourney she had to make. '; /Terrible thoughts of vaults houses possessed her and almost paralysed her limbs as she found herself led gently forward, and knew by the creaking of the hinges that she was passing through a doorway.

Then she heard the doors shut j behind them, and knew that they i were in the dark. "Wait a moment," said her companion. "We must have a light." She heard the striking cf a match, and all the while she knew that they were in some place which was cold and damp, and cellar-like. She could see through the thick folds of her handkerchief that there was now a little light moving about, and her companion once more drew her hand reassuringly through his arm. "Now," said he, "we have to go down. Two more slops, and then we come to stairs. Now." A little sigh of trouble escaped the girl's lips, but she held herself bravely, ard kept her mouth, after that involuntary relief tc her feelings, tightly closed. But she felt that it was a shuddery journey all the same. The air seemed to become heavier and heavier, and the smell of damp earth'to become stronger; at last she stopped short when they had

roachc-.l llio Louom of the flahv-;, and taking Ihree or four footstep, forward, she said: "Are we i.i J vault V "No." She dared not ask.any n ;;••*. Ifact, he; voice already bet::,.: the fact that a very little m ■:• excitement wcr.kl bring t'.ie tear; -She clung to the arm that gvuk-. her, and drew her breath in short gasps. "Come, ccurage, you're r\. brave that von won't break down I know." "No-n-no," said she: and sllim;-l-ove tightly. They seemed to her to walk ;'., miles and miles, always in th. same mouldy smell, the sa;.; heavy air, always with the sai:u uncanny sensation of t>teppi» on something soft and clam.:;., that might be a human body, at each forward footstep.

"When shall we be there'/" sin asked, at last, with a Hub breul on the last word.

"Well, very soon we shall be ii. a different atmosphere, though not quite at the end oi the jour ncy. Come, about another tii'ty steps, perhaps less, will do it." On they went again, Edna counting her footsteps half aioud She had counted sixty-three, when her companion cried: "Halt!"

She stopped, trembling and cold, and heard the jingling oi keys. •

"Where are we going now'/" "Upstairs again—into the tipper regions once more. Now 1 want you to walk very quickly, as I den't want vou to be seen." "Yes, yes." Already the tone of her voice had changed, and her limbs trembled no longer. She had los! most of her nervous tremors, sure that she knew as well as he did where she was going. She mounted the :;ieps blithely, waited while she heard the key turn in th<> b-;~r of a heavy door, and the next moment a rush of cold, pure air upon her face told her that they were in the open air. She uttered an exclamation of pleasure. Her companion now became very rapid in his movements.

*"I don't mind confessing t< you," he said, as he turned the key again, took it out of the loci' and put it in his pocket, "that I'in now very anxious to get the resi of the journey over. I don't want to be seen in the character oi gaoler, and you look a most ro mantic object without a hat and' with your eyes bandaged. 1 went to get you under cover again as quickly as I can." "Yes, of course," said Edna gaily. For- she was convinced in her own mind that, as far as she was concerned, he« might have saved himself the trouble of binding her eyes, since she knew where she was going. She was now walking quickly, still with her hand in his arm, over rough grass and sloping ground. Then they stopped when they had gone for some yards in a downward direction. There was a brushing aside of some growth which smelt like ivy, and then another key wa<? ;»i«"rt<»«\ frito another lock, and she asked nervously: "Are we going underground again?" "Only for a very little way." Down they went again, the steps this time being much steeper, and the passage in which they found themselves at the bottom being less mouldy and earthy in smell. She knew, too, by the sound and the touch, that there were tiles or bricks or stones underfoot, instead of the sticky earth which she had trodden on during the longer and worse part of the journey. After what seemed a very short distance her companion said: "And now up again i once more."

A few more steep steps, another door to be unlocked at the top, and then she felt upon her face, not the cold air of out of doors, -nor the damp air of underground passages, but the warmer atmosphere that told her that she was again inside a building of some sort.

The smell was something like that of a stable, but faint, as if she were not in the stable itself, but in an adjoining building or room. And again she felt brick flooring under the soles of her thin house-shoes. "This way now." Another door was unlocked, i.nd then Edna knew that she was not only in a house once more, Lut in a warm, inhabited one. "And once more upstairs." Her companion had now lower cd his voice for the first time, r.s if anxious not to be overheard b;. other dwellers in the house. Ski walked along a carpeted (ioor, and, being led a few steps forward, heard the opening cf a door. An exclamation of impatience brok from bet ?n,..pr.nion, v. !:• said, harplv: "Go back!" (To be Continued.J. *• ■ "•--■ •