The Mysterious Stranger

Waikato Times, Volume 125, Issue 20887, 19 August 1939, Page 23 (Supplement)

The Mysterious Stranger

SERIAL STORY

By H. S. SARBERT

SYNOPSIS At the county ball Eileen Stanhope meets Paul Stanrlish —a good-looking, mysterious stranger whom no one knows much about. He tells Eileen that he is the owner or Beievue, aa old castle on the wildest part or the coast ol France. CHAPTER XII. Dahlia’s Passion For Horses This feeling, which lay passive for some time, was at last roused into active power hy an event which nearly cost Dahlia her life. Passionately fond of horse exercise, she used, every day, wet or fine, to go for long rides, accompanied by old Rogers, the groom, who had been in Mr Stanhope’s service for more than twenty years. Sometimes Lord Moorlield would join her in her wild gallops across the moors, and together they would enjoy many a pleasant hour's companionship, in the summer, however, an event occurred which, for a moment, disturbed their harmony. Dahlia had set her heart on riding a young horse which Mr Stanhope had bought but a short Lime before bis death, and which was only just broken in. Rogers was much averse Lo her doing so, declaring tha', for the present, such an experiment would be hazardous in the exlif.nip. The matter was under discussion one day when Lord Moorlield was lunching at the Ilail, and Jeanette suggested that he would, perhaps, first try the horse, and give them his opinion. ■'l certainly don't sec the necessity,” said Dahlia, and there was a pout upon her rosy lips. "I am an excellent horsewoman, and 1 am not in the least afraid. 1 am tired of old Sally, who is really too steady and too stupid. She actually stumbled with me yesterday.” ”Then why not ride the Colonel, your uncleV favourite horse?” said Moorlield. ‘T have seen Rogers at exercise with the Captain, and 1 don’t like the look of him one bit. There’s temper, or something worse, in that ey-e of his. You must not attempt to ride him, Miss Asche—at least, until 1 have tried him.’ Dahlia looked up d&fiantly. “I have ordered him to be saddled for me this afternoon,” she said, shortly. “Please to remember, Lord Moortfeld, that it is my affair. I am mistress here.” Moorlield started, flushed, and bit his lip. “I beg your pardon,” he said. “My dear Dahlia,” Jeanette ventured to remonstrate, “surely you must know that Lord Moorlield only spoke out of regard for your safety.” Her ill-humour had all vanished, and she held out her hand to Jeanette with a smile; her eyes softened, ana turning to Lord Moorlield she said, with a pretty air of penitence: “Please forgive me. I had no right to speak to you in such a manner; it was most rude, most uncalledfor. But 1 have set my heart on riding the Captain to-day, even if I never mount him again. Will you come with me? and then you will satisfy yourself that it is all rig-ht.” How lovely she looked! The red of her small mouth, the velvety bro-wn of her shy eyes, the soft, dark luxuriness of her hair, all melting into one harmony of tint like a fair Italian picture. “You are but a spoiled chiM,” said Moorfleld, smiling. “Of course I’ll come with you, for I can’t help feeling anxious about the venture. She ran away laughing, and presently returned in her well-fltting habit, a costume particularly becoming to her; and, as Jeanette watched Lord Moorfleld swing her dexteriously into the saddle, she thought that she had

never seen a quieter-looking animal than the beautiful bright-bay Captain, with his black points, or a Jiand-somer-looking couple than Dahlia and her cavalier. Dahlia was evidently bent on making ample amends for her previous ungraciousness. Perhaps she had never been so attractive, and Moorfield yielded, half-unwittingly, to a delicious spell of fascination. -Everything went smoothly. The Captain was behaving himself with the dignity due to his name, so that there was nothing to distract the attention of either of the pair from each other —nothing to break the flow of their low, pleasant talk as they walked their horses through the shady lanes. The Old Gravel Pit “And now,” said Dahlia, as they emerged upon the moorland—“now for a good gallop!” and she drew her whip smartly across the Captain s , beautiful neck. At that moment a cab-bit darted across Iheir path; there was a savage snatch at the bit, and llie Captain was off at a mad gallop. Dahlia felt startled. The first sudden plunge, which nearly pulled her arms from their sockets, half frightened her; but she soon settled down, and took a steady pull at the reins, but found she was quite powerless to check the fiery animal. There was a moment's mild excitement as she llew along, the wind whistling past her, which made her forget everything. The Captain had outstripped the other horse. Still he urged on his wild career, and surely every moment the pace seemed faster. At the far end of the moor were some old, disused gravel-pits, of sufficient depth, however, to prove horribly dangerous. They were only surrounded by a very slight railing, and, at the headlong pace at which they were going, the Captain, in his blind fury, would probably rise at the rail, and then She shuddered at the thought. Surely, surely she would be able to check him before then! She closed her eyes involuntarily as the thought of the hideous death before her caused the blood to curdle in her veins, and she now wished with all her heart that she had listened to Moorfleld’s warning and followed his advice. If only he could catch her up now, and save her! But the mad brute under her tore on faster and faster, till, indeed, she could scarcely breathe. It was just as she caught sight of a large clump of trees which stood in front of the gravel-pits, and she felt all was indeed over with her, that she heard —nay, felt—that Moorfield was gaining on her.

It was a mad gallop, a fearful race for life, and Moorfield won. As he galloped up, the Captain swerved to the near side, throwing up his head; and Moorfield, with a glad cry of thankfulness caught the bridle, and brought him to a standstill, and he stood with heaving flanks and wildlystaring eyeballs.

Dahlia swayed helplessly in her saddle, and Moorfield flung himself off his own horse just in time to catch her in his arms. She soon recovered consciousness, and smiled vaguely, holding out her hand to him. “Thank heaven!” he exclaimed, fervently. “Tell me, my—dear Miss Asche, that you are not hurt!”

“No, no; it is nothing but exhausher. “How foolish—how very fooi--1 ish—a have been! I have, indeed, been 1 well punished for my obstinacy. What can I say to you?” “Tell me,” he said, as his eyes feasted on the pale beauty of her face, and bis heart beat quickly with emotion—“tell me that you will give me the right to forbid you ever riding that horse again; that you will try to 1 j love me, dear, and that you will be my wife!” ) It was indeed a strange moment for ! sucli an avowal. She glanced up at him with a surprised and frightened glance. His eyes told her how earnest he was, and, in spite of her attempt at self-command, her own were suffused with tears, while a faint blush stole over her cheeks, and faded slowly away, as she said, with infinite sweetness, “1 think 1 have always cared for you!” “My darling!’ ’ Jeanette was up in her room, dressing for dinner, when the two young people returned. She heard a low lap at her door, and Dahlia entered quickly. She passed her arms round Jeanette, her eyes and cheeks glistening with recent tears, but her face beaming with joy. “I am the very happiest girl in the world 1” sho said. “Oh, Mrs Pentland, it scarcely seems possible that, after having loved Eileen, Lord Moorheld could care for me—it seems too good to be true!” “My dear child,” said Jeanette, as she kissed her. There was no reason on earth why the course of this true love should not run smooth. 'Old Lady Moorfield was one of those sensible women who argue that in marriage people should be at liberty to please themselves; and so long as her beloved son was happy, she asked for nothing more, and was prepared to be pleased with ■ any daughter-in-law he choose to give I her. So, with a fond motherly kiss, i she handed over to the blushing and : happy girl the famous Moorfield diamonds, which had been in the family for many hundred years. So ail went merrily, and in the . autumn there was a pretty wedding in the same church in which Eileen j had been married; and it would have I been difficult to find a happier or a ; prettier bride than the young Lady j Moorfl'eld as she came out of the i church porch leaning on her husj band's arm. | The winter at Llanley Hall was not, I perhaps, quite so severe as it was at | Bellevue; still, it was dreary enough, j Jeanette used often to feel very lonely, 1 after the many years of regular comj panionship, and her heart ached for a ; sight of her sweet Eileen. She could : not feel quite happy about her, for, j although her letters were full of de- ! light about her baby, still there seemed j lu be an air of constraint with re--1 ganl to all that concerned her husban d. Lord Moorfield and Dahlia talked of spending the winter in Paris. and were very anxious that Jeanelte should pay them a visit while they were in the gay capital. But Jeanette's plans were suddenly arranged for her by a , telegram which she received late one ! night from Eileen. It ran as follows: “Hotel Supreme, | Paris. Lome at once.’’ | ; (To be continued)