LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXIV, Issue 2433, 23 January 1882, Page 4

LITERATURE.

IN A TERRIBLE MIST. [From the " Argosy." (Continued.) In another moment he would, in the frenzy of despair and remorse, have thrown himself over the cliff, but I seized his arm and dragged him back by main force. As I did so, young Borlace came hurrying up, out cf breath. •What has happened?' ho panted; 'I heard a cry * 'There has boc-n a terrible accident,' I began, and in a few hurried words told him all. He stared at me with an expression of incredulous horror, and then turned his eyes on Noel Tremaine. ' An accident ?' ho repeated slowly ; ' was it an accident ?' T remain© started, and raised his head. Their eyes met, and for a moment they looked at each other as if under a spell. ' Good heavenß—you cannot believe that I intended " Noel began, but reading tho other's dark suspicion only too plainly in his face, he left the sentence unfinished, and turned abruptly away. 1 That is a shameful insinuation,' I cried warmly ; * you know that Tremaine loved her too well to ' ' I know that he threatened her life this afternoon,' interrupted Borlaoe ; let him deny it if he can.' Noel looked round. His face had frozen into a strange quietude. ' I do not deny it. It Is true.' ' And a moment ago I heard you say you had killed her.' 'But not intentionally 1' I exclaimed; ' it was an accident. Tremaine—speak ! defend yourself from this shocking accusation. Do not let it be supposed that you are—a murderer 1' Ha shuddered, and oovered his ey&s with his hand. ' I feel Ilka one,' he groaned ; ' but for mo this would never have happened. Her death lies at my door ' ' We do not yet xnow that she is dead,' I returned, hastily, ' while we are loYt srio

here she may be lying Insensible on the baa< h.'

The suggestion—lmprobable as I felt It to be—had tao effect of rousing him from his despairing apathy. The words had hardly left my lipa whon he turned from us, and hurried away, eoon disappearing in tho mist. •If she ha 3 survived such a fall it is little short of a miracle,' Walter Birlaee remarked, as we followed; 'and you forget, Mr Glynn, that tho tide in at the fl iod ; it will take us more than an hour to reach Penravon Books; by that time the wavoa will have carried her away.' I mado no answer ; I know only too well that he was right, and my heart sank as I thought of all the misery that was to come. The newest way to the beach was through the village, where Noel had arrived before üb. The ncwa spread like wild fire through the place (though none dared to carry It to Michael Oarlyou), and half the population turned out to accompany us. There was some delay while the boats were put out, and lanterns and torches provided, and it Eoemed hours to our impatience before we reached the spot. A light breeze sprung up, dispersing the mist, and the moon and stars looked forth as eeranely as if there were no death in the world, no sin or sorrow. The Dale, pure light gleamed on Penravon Rock*, from whioh the tide had retreated, leaving them wet and bare ; sparkled on the shallow pools between the boulders, showed every crevice and proj action of the rugged cliff — but It did not show us the figure we hoped, yet dreaded, to see. Noticing that there bad been a reoent fall of turf and soil from the edge of the cliff some of the men eet to work to remove the debris, while the others gathered round, hardly daring to think what piteous sight might be revealed. But they fonnd nothing. Hoping against hope, we continued the search for hours, sometimes mistaking a patch of moonlight for a fair dead face, or a floating tangle of sea-weed for " a drowned maiden's hair "—all In vain.

lit Winnifred Carlyon, dead or living, thete was no traos.

At length we prepared to return, but without Noel, who refused to leave the spot. 1 I shall find her yet—something tells mo that I shall,' he muttered, cssting a haggard glance round him ; * go—all the rest of you ; I would rather be alone.'

Walter Bnrlaca gave him a curious look from his pale gray eyes, and S3emed about to Bpeak, but checked himself, and followed the others in silence.

' Who'll break the news to old Carlyon ?' the men whispered among themselves, glancing furtively at me, I knew that the sorrowful task would be mine, though I would have given much to avoid it. I dared not think of the grief and desolation the tidings would bring Into the homo which the sweet girl's presence had brightened. Nothing travels so swiftly as ill-tidings, and nothing is more Infectious than suspicion. Before another day had dawned the tragedy was known far and wide, and as the news spread, a vagus shadow of doubt and distrust gathered round Noel's name. No aconsation had yet been uttered, but on every side I heard the echo of Walter Borlaoe'a doubting question— * Was it an accident ?' Tremalne himself seemed ununoonscious of the whispered suspicion ; unconscious of everything except his despair. All day long he was wandering on the heights, or by the margin of the ' cruel, crawling foam,' as if the wild hope that the waves would give back what they had taken. There had been a sudden change in the weather. A strong north westerly gale was rieiog, and as I sat In my study at the vicarage that evening I felt the sturdy old house vibrate beneath the gust, while the rain beat agiinst the panes as if it would drive them In. I was endeavortnp, not very successfully, to concentrate my micd on the sermon I had begnn, when there was a tap at the door, and old Dan Tragellas, the sexton, entered, looking soared and. startled. 'What Is it?' I enquired; 'you look as if you had seen a ghost.' • Somethiug like one, sir : coming up from the village just now I met ycui.g Tremaine, and it gave me quite a turn.' 1 Where wa3 he V

'On Penravon C iff, just about where the accident happened; he was walking fast, talking to himself; I spoke to him, but he didn't hear me ; didn't even see me, though ho passed close to me; he was etaring straight before him like a sleep-walker, and his fice was as white as this'—laying his finger on my writiog-paper ; 'I doubt his mind's giving way, sir, and he'll do himself a mischief if he's not prevented.' I threw down my pen and ro3e, 'ln which direction was he going ?' ' straight towards the Keep.' I drew aside tho curtain and looked out. Dusk was deepening into night—a wild, stormy night of hurrying olouda and driving rain. Enough light remained to show me the massive form of the tower, standing sentinel above the angry sea. ' Surely he doesn't mean to spend the night In that dismal plaoe ?' old Dan muttered at my elbow j 'he must not be allowed to do eo.'

'Fetch me a lantern and help me on with my overcoat; I shall go after him at once.' Five minutes later I sallied forth into the rain and darkness. The moment I emerged from the house the wind swooped down upon me with a rush that nearly took me off my feet, half blinding ma as it drove the sharp sleet into my eyes. I struggled on, however, fighting my way along, with bent head, and at length, out of breath and dripping with rain, I reached the tower. In the days when It was used for contraband purposes the lower part of the building had been rougbly restored, the breaches in the wall stopped np, tho windows barred across, and a massive door added, which now hung awry on its rusty binges. The place had an uncanny sort of reputation in the neighborhood, and nothing would have induced the superstitious fishermen to enter it after dark. I pusho:l open the door and looked In, holding the lantern above my head. Its light showed me the figure of Noel Tremalne, standing motionless in the middle of the floor, as if he had stopped short in the act of orossing it His face was turned towards the door, but he did not appear to see me. He stood In a listening attitude, his lips apart, his eyes fixed and dilated, every line of his faoe expressing strained and anxious attention. What was it he heard ? No sound reached my own ea , s but tho roar of the wind and the murmur of the sea. A vague, half-superstitious fear crept over me as I watched him, but I shook it off and entered, closing the door loudly to attract his attention. But though the sound echoed through the place, it did not break the strange spell that held him. It was not until I touched his arm that he seemed conscious of my presence. Then he started violently, and looked at mo with a wild, haggard stare, but expressed no surprise at my sudden appearance, and for moment seemed hardly to recognise me. At length he drew a deep breath, as if waking from a dream, and laid his hand on my wrist. 'Do you hear it ?' he asked, in a breathless whisper. ' I hoar nothing but the wind and the sea.' ' Not that—the sound la within the tower. Hark I' I listened intently a moment, then shook my head—- ' It was the cry of a seagull.' ' I tell you it is hero, close to us, seeming to como from the ground beneath our feet,' he persisted excitedly. ' Whpt is the sound ?' His answer fairly took my breath away, ' Winnie's voice.' I looked at him compassionately. ' You are dreaming, Noel I Grief and excitement have unnerved you. Come out of this gloomy place; come home with me, and * He shook his head impatiently. ' No, I dare not leave this spot. Something—an attraction I can't explain—drew me to It in spite of myself, and just now, before you came, I thought I heard There again!' he broke off, seizing my shoulder; ' good heavens! la it possible you don't hear it too ?' Was I infeoted by bis delusion, or did I indeed hear a faint muffled ory, seeming, as he had said, to come from the ground beneath our feet ? He had watched my face, and his own lighted up with a wild triumph. ' Do yon believe me now, or are we both dreaming ?' he cried ; then, relinquishing my arm, he threw himself on the floor, beating the stones as if ho would have torn them up with his bare hands. ' Winnie—Winnie! Speak to me—whera are you ?' It waa no delusion this time—no trick of

excited fancy. A voioe—not the ' wail of a soul in pain,' but the voice of a living woman, answered—- _' lam here in the vanlt! Help ; come to me !' Noel sprang to hia feet, with a cry that rang through the place. ' Ah, I understand ! 1 *olt that I was not to think of it before ! Mr Glynn—the subterranean passage ' I started, and looked back at him with a face aa excited as hia own. ' But—but how could she ' I began. 'I don't know. It io all mystery at present,' he interrupted ; 'but one thing is certain. By some strango chanco she must have discovered tho opening in the cliff," and made her way to the vault. The entrance is Bomewhere in the floor. Give me the lantern—quick !' I handed it to him, and we anxiously examined the pavement, whioh was of square stone Blabs, worn and uneven with age. In one of them, which appeared newer than the rest, was embedded a rusty iron ring. My companion pointed to it without a word, and ret down the light. The stone had become firmly fixed in its position, and it required the utmost exertion of our united strength to raiee it. When, at length, we sneceeded in removing It, a breath of damp, cold air, charged with an earthy odour, came rushing up from the vault beneath. Noel bent over the opening, gazing down anxioußly as he swung the lantern to and fro. Its rays fell on what looked like a heap of light drapery, huddled together at the further end of the vault. • She is there I' he breathed ; ' but—but she does hot speak or stir. Snppose—suppose we are too late ?' {To be continued.')