THE “ TIGER’S EYE.”

New Zealand Illustrated Sporting & Dramatic Review, Volume IX, Issue 461, 25 May 1899, Page 17

THE “ TIGER’S EYE.”

LBy

Marie Madison.

Chapter IV — concluded.

Three weeks of my month’s probation passed. There was a garden party at 1 ongwood and I had been invited to attend. Lt was en masque, but I donned only a single domino. In a short time I penetrated almost every disguise. My sister made a magnificent Diana. Adele Beaufort was a Dresden shepherdess, Lionel Ware a toreador, Lenore de Lorme a gorgeous Cleopatra. Mephisto alone puzzled me. There was something familiar in bis mien, yet I could not place him. Like a shadow he kept in the train of Cleopatra. Lionel Ware soon discovered Lenore and made himself known to her. I °aw them stroll away through the grounds, followed by their shadow — Mephisto. They entered a Summer house, and in the shadow near them Mephisto hid. I, still at a distance, watched them all. In a short time Lionel hurried away to the house, returning shortly with a shawl. In the meantime Mephisto entered the Summer house, and, urged by some strange presentiment, I drew near enough to hear what he might say I did not wish to play the eavesdropper, but it was an unequal fight for my friend’s honor and my life, and I felt I was justified. By the light of a Moorish lamp I saw Mephisto’s face, for his mask lay on the floor. It was Col. Romaine.

“ You are a fool, like all women,” he was saying, “ You count of the cost nothing, but you must do as I command you.” Lenore laughed. Oh! I had heard that laugh before and knew its meaning. The tigress was not to be tamed !

“I can deny every word you utter, and no one will believe you,” she said. “ You cannot. I have one card which I shall not play until the end, but it will win, and you will lose everything you barter in this game.” “It is needless to talk with me. I am determined.” “ Determined to ruin this man I” “ Love cannot ruin him.” “ You are incapable of love.” “ Well, then, my beauty must answer for all.” “ Your beauty is the beauty of Circe. You will lead him only to misery.” “ You do not know me.” “ I know you better than you know yourself. I have given you your last moment’s grace. When he returns you know what you must do.” “ And if I should refuse ?” “ I still hold the final card. But, first, I will tell him the story of Paul Romaine and the woman who swore at the altar to love and honor him. I will tell him you are my wife, the mother of my child, who, deserted by its unnatural parent, perished for want, of care, while you fled with yo.ur miserable lover.” “ That is not true. The child was killed accidentally. I took her with me because, bad as I was, my maternal love was the strongest pi»rt of my nature. Even to-day the thought of that little child moves me as nothing else in the world can move me. It comes to me in the night and darkness of my life, like a ray from Paradise, down which the truth of a spiritual hereafter comes and fills my soul with a vague hope for eternity. Oh, Paul, I was not bad. The first misstep was an error, but it has taken a mountain of sins to cover that error, and under that my soul lies buried.” “ Is it possible there is some good in you, after all ?” “ Love can bring back all the good in my nature. Go away. Let me be happy, and I swear to you I will be as good, as true, as noble as any woman on earth can be.” “ What you ask me is criminal. You are still my wife.” “ You, of all the world, know this.” “ How can you speak of redemption and crime in one breath ! He is returning. ■ Remember, I am near and ready to play the last card.” He glided like a shadow to a spot very near my place of concealment just as .Lionel Ware returned. Ware instantly noticed a change in Lenore. She looked as she did that morning after swooning, and strangely I began to pity her. “ You are cold —ill! ” said Ware, anxiously. “ No, only tired,” she replied. “ Tired ! Do you wish ” “I wish nothing.” “ How strangely you speak.” I saw her lean forward and, with her hand on his arm, whispered rapidly something which seemed to startle him. Neither Romaine nor I could hear her words, but her manner was full of entreaty, tears, and pleading. I heard a movement in the shrubbery near me. Mephisto’s arm was raised and something flew through the air. It fell at the feet of the lovers. I saw it quivering to and fro, and soon realised it was a poignard, its points buried in the floor, its message buried in Lenore’s heart. At first she was startled, then, bursting into a laugh, she plucked it from the floor and held it up. “ The signal,” she cr ed, wildly. “ From whom ?” “ My other lover ? ” “ Your other lover ? ”

“ One to whom I have sworn my soul. Why, boy, you are foolish. I have been amusing myself with you. You are my plaything—my pastime. let us have done with this nonsense and be friends.” Ah, had I not heard thise words before, spoken with the same abandon —the same cold smile. Yes, they were the sime death sentence of my love pro iounced by her three years ago, but n-w, I felt they spoke the requiem for her hapoimes as they had for mine. “ There are other women far more worthy of your love than I,” Lenore continued. “You re -emberthe story Jean Devereaux told you ? Ever? word was true. Am I worthy of jour love ? ”

Lionel never spoke. I had turned on her with burning words of rage. His silence was worse than my threats. Without a look he turned and left her. I hurried after him, determined that no desperate act should end his life. I wanted to speak to him —to console him—but something held be back

He hastened away from the scene of festivity, and reaching his own home, threw himself despairingly upon the steps leading to the verandah, where three short weeks before he had demanded my life for telling him the truth about this woman.

One word of mine could have restored his confidence in her love for him, at last. I had but to tell him of the conversation I had overheard between her and Col. Romaine. But could Ido this? Could I lead him into so shadowy a happiness ? Then another motive stayed me. In Adele Beaufort’s eyes I had read a love far more sincere than Lenore’s; a love disregarded, if not unknown —pure —sweet —the first love of an innocent girl, and I was determined to foster an answering passion in his heart, if I could. I knew I must act with caution, but frankness. I went forward and placed my hand on his shoulder.

“ What are you doing here ? ” he cried,bitterly. “ I did not like the look on your face, so I followed you. I fancied you had been playing a part similar to my own in Lenore de Lorme’s game of hearts, and I was determined to be near you if you became as mad as I.” “ It was your hand that threw the dagger.” “ No, I swear it. No ! ” “Do you know who it was ?” “ Yes.” “ Then tell me; I have a right to know.” “ Only another victim of Lenore de Lorme’s.” “ Here, in this place ?” “ Even here.”

All night I sat and talked with him. I was careful not to speak of Adele Beaufort then. I felt such a matter required delicate treatment, so waited till the wound began to heal. It was exceeding bad taste for Lenore to remain at Leroymond after what had happened, but with the grace of a diplomat she laughed it off, and remained on good terms with everybody. I never quite knew how I accomplished it, but I finally awakened in him an interest for Adele Beaufort. With such devotion shining from her frank, truthful eyes, this was not so difficult. With interest came liking, and I soon began to believe the little flower of love was taking root there.

I well knew Lionel had never really loved Lenore. It was a madness such as only she could inspire, and, after all, true love is the best remedy for such insanity. Had I found such a love when I first left her I would not have borne the scars of my self-inflicted heart wounds all my life. CHAPTER V. Summer passed—Autumn came. Autumn in Louisiana is beautiful. We did not dream of quitting the hillside for town, so enticing did nature’s gallery of beauty become. Leroymond was never gayer. People came and went as do the characters in a drama, and Madame Beaufort’s resources seemed inexhaustible. Near Leroymond was an old ruin known ao Klepthold. It had been the homestead of Leroymond during the war. Shell and fire had left it only an interesting relic of history, and Virginia creepers and honeysuckle had covered all unsightly angles with beauty. This was a favorite spot for our afternoon picnics. On a moss-covered stone floor our table-cloth was spread, and we dined and wined happily. It was at one of these merry gatherings that I saw Lenore slip a bit of paper into Lionel Ware’s hand. Half an hour afterwards be came to me, saying—- “ Devereaux, do you know I am a weak fool ? I know that woman is dangerous, yet 1 am almost ready to place myself in ner web again. Read this.”

He placed the missive in my hand. It read—- “ Return here after the others are gone. I must speak with you alone. I have something to tell you which may bring you great happiness. At least, in justice to me, grant this request. It is the last I shall ever ask of you.” “ And you will see her ?” I questioned. “ Yes. To tell her that I am learning to love another. That lam going to ask Adele Beaufort to be my wife.” “ Have you the courage ?” “ Yes.”

A soft, moist wind began to blow from the South —the forerunner of a storm —and our gathering broke up earlier than usual. I was determined to shield Ware from any untoward trick that sorceress might play, so I remained behind, concealed in a large fireplace which still stood intact, its chimney rearing like an obelisk skyward. I had not forgotten her words when she told me of her love for him, and I felt she meant mischief.

The storm came up swiftly. All was silent but the flow of the little stream in the gulch beneath the ruin—that sounded to my ears like the rippling of a river. Then the leaves began to rustle ominously. Soon I saw a dark figure climbing up the road to my hiding place. It was Lenore, her figure outlined like a sillhouete against the ragged clouds. Perdition itself seemed reflected in her face

She paced the enclosure like an enraged tigress. The approaching storm, which was awful enough to strike terror to my heart, seemed to her as a pissing cloud. Lionel came at last. I was glad to see him calm and cold.

“You have come,” the exclaimed, advancing towards him.

“You were fcolish. to brave this storm,” he said, avoiding her touch. “ That is nothing to the storm which rages here in my heart,” she cried. “ How soon your

love grew cold ; how soon another awoke new dreams —new passions. Adele Beaufort! Are you going to marry her ?” “ By what right do you question me ?” “ By the right of your love for me 1” “ I never loved you !” “ Then all your vows were lies.” “ You were the first to break them.” “ All your love play-acting!” “ Have you never played the same part ?” “ Were you deceiving me ?” “ I believe I was ” “ 1 believe you lie !” “ Madame !”

“ Not choice words, truly, but wait. Before you speak, let me tell you that I was testing your love that night when I laughed at you. Lionel, I love you. No other women will ever love yon so !” “ It has been a long test.” “ There was something else. You thought I knew nothing of it. You were to fight Jean Devereaux in my defence. He had planned to kill you. The bullets with which his revolver was loaded were poisoned, and the slightest wound would have meant your death. Now do you understand ?” Lionel was white to the lips. “ Fully,” he replied, savagely. “ I understand you now as I never did. before. You would even stoop to lie to revenge yourself on him ” “Before Heaven I swear I speak the truth,” declared the woman, solemnly. A sharp flash of lightning and a terrific crash of thunder almost drowned her words, but she never flinched. With such blasphemy on her lips she defied God Himself. Lionel was half convinced. Lenore saw the point she had gained and hastened to take advantage of it. “ Come, Lionel, come away with me,” she urged. The world is wide, and I will love you as no woman ever loved a man before. See —see the proof of my love. lamon my knees to you —I, who do not even kneel to the Deity, kneel to you. I belong to you. My soul’s salvation is yours. Come away with me now —forever.” I thought he would succumb, but suddenly a look of scorn passed over his face, and he turned and left her kneeling there upon the wet ground. For a moment her humiliation was pitiful, then sudden rage shook her as she arose slowly to her feet.

“ I will kill him,” she muttered. “ I will kill them both.”

“ And spend the rest of your life where you deserve to be—in prison,” said a voice very near where I was hiding, as Col. Romaine stepped forth from behind the wall, where he had been concealed.

The storm broke with dreadful fury and drowned whatever words they spoke. Suddenly, from the folds of her dress, Lenore drew forth the poignard he had so skilfully thrown at her feet the night of the masque. She sprang towards him. Rooted to the spot with horror, I saw him stagger backwards and fall over the precipice into the stream, which the storm had swollen to a flood. I leaped forward, just as Lenore fell senseless, and sprang into the stream to save him. CHAPTER VI. I took Romaine to Captain Browne. He was not injured, eave by the wetting, which caused a cold from which he did not readily recover. His experience seemed to arouse the lion in his nature, and I knew something would come of it not very pleasant for Lenore. The next morning after the storm we went to Leroymond. What that night had been to Lenore I did not know —I never knew. As soon as I had placed Romaine under the care of Captain Browne I had returned to seek her, but she was gone. As we entered the drawing-room of Madame Beaufort’s home I saw Lenore leaning over Adele Beaufort, who had fallen asleep on the sofa. She still held in her hand a book she had been reading, but over her face lay a handkerchief, and Lenore seemed listening to her d> ep, calm breathing, which grew slower and more irregular as we watched them.

Romaine entered the room. Lenore saw him in the mirror, and with a shriek of terror turned to make her escape I was surprised that Adele did not awaken, and, with a foreboding of evil, lifted the handkerchief from her face.

In the meantime Romaine, seizing Lenore’s wrist, held her securely while he rang the bell for a servant, whom he sent to summon Madame Beaufort and her guests. “ I have come for that final play,” he said savagely, “and it shall bs before them all.” “Paul, what does this mean?” exclaimed Madame Beaufort, entering the room, followed by the others. “It means that this wretch must be unmasked,” said Romaine. “ Helen you know the history of my wife, who fled from me to live a life of shame with another, leaving her infant to the care of strangers. Since then her career has been of deceit, scheming and depravity. Ask Devereaux for a chapter of it! And this woman, who moved among you as an honored guest, is she—the wretch who has ruined so many lives. And yesterday she sought to murder me. I call Jean Devereaux to witness.”

“ And is this your last card ?” laughed Lenore, defiantly. “No; the last card is your child. Little Adelaide is not dead —but lives —is here, under this roof 1” “ Where —who ?” “Madame Beaufort’s adopted daughter — Adele !” “ Then I have hilled her !” I could not have wisrcd such a terrible revenge up.>n my meanest foe. Then, at that moment, I saw that woman’s heart break —if ever a heart broke on this earth.

“ What do you mean ?” gapped Romaine. “That handkerchief— poison —see!” but with a wild laugh she threw herself down at Adele’s side., crying, “ JjTo, no, she is not dead —she lives, she lives.”

Yes ; thanks to my unconsciouslyremoving the handkerchief from before her nostrils, Adele still lived.

By evening she had fully recovered, but no one told her what had happened. No one had seen Lenore since, in the confusion of trying to restore Adele, she had quietly left us.

Evening came, and she was still absent. “ She must have gone away,” said Madame Beaufort. “ Poor woman, her heart is broken. I will see if she is in her room. Now, of all times, she needs human sympathy, and it may save her.”

Ah, no more need for human sympathy. Again the “tiger’s eye” might have told of the Death Angel’s visit and his mysterious going. But it lay silent on Lenore’s cold breast, even as it had on the beautiful Egyptian’s two thousand years aso.