A FATAL DOSE.

Auckland Star, Volume XXXVII, Issue 261, 8 November 1906, Page 6

A FATAL DOSE.

By FRED M. WHITE, Author of "The Corner House," "Craven Fortune," eta. j

CHAPTER Vll.—Continued. "What do you think of that for a picture of domestic bliss':" Eleanor sneered. ''He has forgotten everything but ; her for the moment. 1 tell you it mad- , dens mc to see a man like that throw- , ing himself away upon a dolL Oh, I daresay he cares for her. I have- no doubt she -worships him. but she is do wife for an ambitious man like Philip Hardy. And to think that if she had kept out of the way a little time longer I should have taken her place. I would have made him. I would have pushed him to the very top. There is no position in the country that Philip Hardy could not have assumed with mc by his side." "There are other men quite as rich," Cleave said cynically. "Yes, but you see I want this particular man, and 1 am going to have him. I will not disguise from you that if he | were poor 1 should not have given a second thought. Oh, I am quite aware of what I am opening up for myself, but we need not discuss that. You are my ally, you have promised mc to do any- j thing 1 desire. At the first opportunity I to-night you are going to make your- \ self known to Lena Grey. What hap- • pens after that vrill depend upon circumstances, but the genera] programme j I have already outlined to you." It was some little time before Cleave i replied. He seemed moody and restless, j his eyes were still dwelling on the little j group OD the stairs with a look of some- ' thing like regret. j "It's a strange thing." he muttered, j 'Tntil a day or two ago I felt ready for ' anything, and now that 1 have come ; into the world again the conscience that j I so often sneered at seems to have I taken possession of mc. Upon my word, i Nell, 1 ant do it. She is a dear little ! girl, she always was. and now to step ; in like this and wreck the happiness oi | her life " ~ j "All this is madness,' - Eleanor whispered passionately. "You can go if you : like. Go and leave the whole thing to | mc. 1 daresay 1 shall be able to man- j age by myself, but you will leave mc without a. penny, leave mc with nothing besides the clothes you stand up in. On the other hand, you ran live on the fat of the land for tht present. In a few days you will have live hundred pounds 1C call i our ov.::. If you are going to rhooso. ail i a<k yr.u to do is lo choose j quicki;.. There i< iki time To waste." Cleave averted hi* eyt-s from the group on ilif rta.ii*. 11." stifled the voice of > eoii-cieru-'-. []c piofi-rsed himself to b< j c-ntirely at the disposal of hi- eoiupan- i ion. j ■■\\) u.-e kicking against the pru-k-." J ho said moodily. "Suw tell mc what you want mc lo d<> in the matter ol i that, woman Fiona Dear. Yen have nut ! Wi'ii too candid wit:* mc. ai.d it i- iui ' possible for mi , to go md uule-- 1 know something more of your piujcit. Who is Fiona. Dear: What is sh" doing here ':" "Oh. I had quite forgotten for the moment that you had been out of the world so long. Fiona Dear is the last craze in the way of a thought reader. 1 don'l know whether she is any the wor?<? or the bettor than the majority of her tribp. but anyway fehe is ridinir on the crest of the wave for the moment. and everybody has gone mad about her. And she is coming here to-night, and one of the small summer houses in tinpardon has been placed at her disposal. No one has ever scon this woman, it ; ~ onr of her fads to be masked, therefore she will arrive quietly, the train stopping for a moment at the Duke's private station the other side of the lake. Now you will meet this woman and engage her in conversation for a moment. It matters but little what you say so long as 3'ou detain her for just five minutes. If nothing happens in those five you can come back to the house and mingle with the other guests quite naturally. Now you will at once take the first opportunity of making youi identity known to Miss Grey." '•Very well," Cleave said sullenly. "It shall be just as you say. And now. a≤ the carriages begin t oarrive. we had better break up this conference. If there is anything else I can do for you " But Eleanor Marsh w-aved the speaker aside impatiently. She rose slowly to her feet and made her way into the house, a stately figure in black and yellow, with the diamonds in her dusky hair. It seemed almost impossible to believe that this magnificent creature was no more than a struggling adventuress, who had commenced life in a game-keeper's cottage, and had graduated from her position through the medium of a tobacconist's shop. Cleave watched her with grudging admiration as she mixed with the rest of the guests, nodding to one and brilliantly smiling on another, perfectly at home in this exclusive bouse. As he stood there thinking these thinge over, Cleave noticed that the little group on the stairs had vanished, and presently he saw Lena Grey standing by herself. By this time the great corridor was filled with a briliant array of guests. s'erv slowly, but with a certain grim determination. Cleave crossed the marble floor and stood by the girl's side. She did not see him at all, her nleased eyes were taking in the scene of beaut v and extravagance all around her. ■ Even then. Cleave hesitated. Then he ventured to lay his hand slightly on Lena's arm. She turned quickly. "I am afraid you have forgotten mc." he said. "I am afraid I have no right to be remembered, but if you will look at mc I think you will admit that we have met before." ''Jasper Cleave," Lena whispered faintly. "Jasper "

v.rta.l'ir.ri v iJ-i- j BETWEEN TWO FIRES. It was impossible that Cleave should til to notice the fleeting suggestion of ?rror in the eyes of his companion. She | :ood there pale and trembling, like a | odld who is detected in some fault. She ! as waiting apparently for him to ; peak, for him to say something to reak the tension of the moment. And j et there was nothing in the aspect f the man to suggest the blackmailer. t was c- sy enough for Cleave to guess rhat was passing in the girl's mina. he had gone back to the time when, s a mere child, a romantic girl, there ad been love passages between them, 'ure and innocent enough on her side, nd possibly in those days on his. But Lena had seen much of the world I ince then, her ears had not been altoether deaf to the disgraceful stories I thich had been told at the time of 'leave's downfall. .She recollected ! uite vividly now ihe horror with which hese recitals had inspired her. and the hankfulness she felt at her narrow escape from a life of absolute misery. Vhat would Philip Hardy say if he :new of those episodes, for Lena had lever told him. Indeed, she had long ince forgotten all about it. It came >ack to her now vividly enough that ertain letters of hers might be still mongst Cleaves possessions. There vas absolutely nothing wrong with those etters. they were merely the outpourngs of v simple loving nature, though loubtless they were romantic enough in lavour as one would have expected from i comparatively solitary child at the .ge of sixteen. And Philip Hardy was so immaculate, o far above "human weaknesses of this :ind. He would have expected his wife 0 come to him. pure and unsullied, and vith the flavour of no other man's cisses on her lips, wholly honourable .s they might be. But it was useless to stand there, panting and frightened like a timid deer. It behoved Lena to recover her selfpossession to show this man that she was not afraid of him, and that she was able to guard her own interests. But perhaps she was exaggerating, perhaps Jasper Cleave had turned his back on the old evil life and had by degrees reestablished himself in the eyes of the world. "1 did not expect to see you here like this" -lie -aid. forcing a smile to her lip-. "1 understood that you had left England altogether, that, in fact, you —" she paused in -.;:::e confusion. (. leave laughed a little bitter!;.. He was feeling quite at homo now. <-;':;:e ready to cany out hi- programme t,. th" letter. "1 cat] quite understand what you mean." he -.aid. "You thought 1 had left my country foi my errantry's good, and yet. kisoivi.ig ine a- ymi did i*i the old day-, you will l> - disposed to admi' tint i w a.- n.-re sinn J against than sinnim.'. 1 get tnt-i bad hand*, amongst men whotocf ativai ; ge ;,f my pencrosi!/ and stripped : T i" of all i had. Then -wren 1 diseo-vered the extent of my folly. 1 became the pigeon which has turned a hawk. But any name has a right for a chance if he nroves himself worthy of it. The fact that I am here to-night shows you that I have taken my chance." Lena made no reply for a moment : she was casting around in her mind for a way to get rid of this man. she wanted to be alone and think. .A little way <ff stood her lover in conversation with oil" of the leaders of his party, but Lena could sec that he was paying but scant attention to the great man's utterance-. There was a puzzled frown on his face, as if he were struggling to remember th" name of Lena's acquaintance. Then there wa« a sudden lurid flash in his eyes and a sudden hardening of his lips. liena did not need anyone to tell her that Philip knew. He made one stride forward, then recovered his self-posses-sion. His back wa = turned to the others. Lena flashed an uneasy glance at Cleaves face. She could see at once that the little comedy had not passed over his head. "1 have heard about that.'' he said. 'I have been in England long enough to know that Philip Hardy has so far honoured you as to offer his hand and what he calls his heart to you. He is going to be a great man. 1 understand, but he must not be too impulsive. And. after all. what business is it of his to question my presence in this house:" "1 did not "know such was his intention." Lena said coldly. "You will excuse mc. 1 am sure; please do not let mc detain you any longer. There is much I have to do." A suden anger flamed up in Cleaves heart, he had no intention of being dismissed in this cold contemptuous way. "Softly, softly." he said between his teeth. "What a wonderful filing to note ihe change in a woman in the course of three short years. When 1 left England there wa.s no more timid and affectionate creature than yourself. Now you are so hard and cold to mc. Why should you be?"' "Why should you question my feelings at all?"' Lena retorted. "They cannot concern you in any way." "Oh. yes. they can." Cleave sneered. "Do not tell mc you have forgotten those pleasant old days when we were together in the heart of the country. Dc you recollect the night-——" Lena's face flushed crimson. She felt as if some cold hands had been laic about her heart. A subtle instinct tolc her lhat this man was here after nc good; she flashed round upon him with a challenge in her eyes. "What is it?" she demanded. "Why do you come here like this and force yourself upon mc? Let mc grant a 1 once that all you say is true, that we were at one time more than friends 1 was young then and innocent of the world—l loved you. But I was merely a child then, and 1 knew no better. The love that 1 felt for you in those days ] know now to be no more than a passing fancy. I know now that I had given tnj heart to a scoundrel, who would sureh have broken it had not Providence beer kind to mc. If you are the man yot say you are, if you have done your best to redeem your disgraceful past, yot would have shrunk from mc. you would have avoided my presence. But you are here to-night for some purpose that iinimical to my happiness. If you think you can damage mc in any way yot are mistaken. There is nothing yot can do." "You are flattering,"' Cleave said bit terly. "Upon my word you tempt mc to take up your challenge. You art marrying a man who is as different tc myself as light from darkness, but Philij Hardy is not the man to forgive or for get. Suppose I go to him and tell hin all I know?"

"He will not believe you.'' Lena said proudly. '"No, he may not believe my spoken word," Cleave said significantly. "Being n born politician and a statesman, he would ask for evidence. He would want to see the written document. Now, just cast your mind back for a few years, and don't reply in a hurry. If he asked for the documents, don't you , think I should be in a position to give them to him?" "Lena started. Her face lost a little ■ of its natural colour. "The letters,"' she whispered. "I had forgotten all about them. Surely you would not be so cruel, you would not so iar forget " "The past," Cleave sneered. "Sounds like a scene from some melodrama. Had not you better smile at mc as if we were discussing some pleasant problem: j There is a fat old woman opposite who ■ is regarding us in a highly suspicious manner. Ah. that is better. And now let mc ask you another question. Why should you take it for granted that I am going to use those letters to do you any harm? Why do you regard mc as if I were some offensive animal trying to push myself upon you? If you only knew everything " Cleave paused abruptly for a moment, then the strange thin smile that Lena had disliked so much came to his face again. "'Let us make a compact," he said. "I can help you and you can help mc. If 1 choose to go to Hardy and lay those letters before him, your happiness is gone for ever." 'Lena w-as silent. She could not find it in her heart to deny the truth of this. She was passionately attached to Philip. ; she knew that he cared equally for her, i but his was not the love that forgave. I Xot the pure and disinterested affection ; that can overlook anything and every--1 thing. Very timidly Lena waited for I her companion to speak. { "I have those letters,'' he said. "They I are not in my pocket at the present moment, but they can be within an hour. It is for you to say whether I shall get ! them or not and return them to you." Lena's heart gave a great leap, it j ! seemed to rise up in ncr throat and suffocate her. It was difficult for her to eoli lect her scattered thoughts amongst all . the chatter and laughter that was going l ion around her. The strains of a vis- i i tant band seemed to muddle and confuse her senses. Philip Hardy was still close by. still in deep conversation with the | great political personage. He had his back resolutely turned to Lena, some- | ' thing in his attitude seemed to suggest that he was both annoyed and suspicious. And yet the whole thing could be smoothed away in the space of n few moments. Still Lena hesitated: it was ncr bounden duty to defy Cleave, to turn I from him scornfully and bid him do his | worst. It was plainly her duty also to tell her whole story to Philip Hardy and nst; him to protect her against the insiduous advances oi this adventurer. "Very well." she said at length. "I know 1 am doing wrong. I can see quite clearly my duty before mc. Still. if you will be so good as to give mc those letters ! shall be obliged to you." "Good" for evil." Cleave laughed. "You -hall have your letters, but not here. Then- ate too many suspicious people about us. It is about ten now. and -upper i- at twelve. MeM mc at half-past eleven in the little alcove leading To the rose garden and 1 will place those papers in your possession." Once more Lena hesitated. :»h<- v.\S- ' trembling from head to f>>ot with ;<u emotion that she was powerless to resist. , she seemed to detect some scheme here, any vet what could this man gain? •• Very well." she said breathlessly. | '■ It shall be as you say. 1 will meet you | ■at the plax-e appointed at half-past j ' eleven." tTo be continued daily.)