BROKEN BONDS.

King Country Chronicle, Volume IV, Issue 298, 28 September 1910, Page 7

BROKEN BONDS.

(Copyright.)

A THRILLING ROMANCE OF LOVE AND INTRIGUE, < -* —— By MAURICE SCOTT, Author of "The Mark of the Broad Arrow," "Tracked by Fate," Etc., Etc. PART 11. "I have been under that impression. She is a faded, underbred little woman, extremely crestfallen ami disappointed that Iyer husband is resolute in rehabilitating his ancrstral home, while she would prefer lo rim riot in town. For a sew hundred pounds she would sell 20 sisters-in-law. Yet I am a little impatient. I have heard no tidings from Scotland for over a month. Surely it must occur to Mr. Alec Strathearron that he cannot keep his sister a prisoner for the remainder of her'life." "Do I understand you, you contemplate open defiance of the brother, Vane ?" "N-o."' returned Vane, a wkwardly; "it will have to be effected by stratagem, of course. But enough of my affairs. How has the world been using you, Paul They talked, smoking, for about half an hour, and then, following the sound of the bell, Brookn entered noiselessly and laid a letter at his master's elbow. Vane, with a curt "Excuse me," tore it open, and as his eyes fell on the lines he swore roundly. ".Listen to this, Paul," he said. " 'Dear Mr. Vane, —I don't know what you will say to me, though it isn't my fault. I've been down with the "flu," a, perfectly awful attack, unable to raise my head or even to think. And even if T had, there's not due of these nasty horrid Scotch servants in whom I dared confide with respect to writing you, I—their lawful mistress —am nothing to them, though they'd lay down their lives for mv husband and his sister Anna. But you know all that. so I'd better break my news a t once.' "The lady is what what might be termed ' long-winded,' " remarked Paul, as Vane paused for breath, and then contended reading; : " ' She's gone ! Where, I don't know any more than the dead : but she's gone ! The first time I came down to luncheon there was no sign of Mr. Arbuthnot. I asked it' we should wait for him. and Alec replied that he had gone away at least, three weeks ago, leaving a message of sympathy for me and thanks for my hospitality. I thought Alec w a s too polite for once, and waiting till he went out I explored the house, to find the west wing all open and workmen in the room in which Anna was laid up. Of course, Arbuthnot took advantage of my being; ill to get her away, you may depend : but these Scotch people being so clanish, however. I'm to find out where he's taken her. I don t know' " "Arbuthnot," interrupted Inglis ; "there was a chap of the name at the place I've just come from in the West. Tall, deucedl.v good-look-ing, eyes that seemed to pierce through you." " .Did you hear his Christian name ?" asked "V ane, almost inaudibly. "Yes. my hostess —whose nephew ho seemed to be —called him Jack, ami Hold on, Felix ; I am beginning to understand why T could not banish you from my thoughts. There was a visitor, a Miss Western, for whom apologies were made. No, I did not see her, but she was alluded to as 'Anna-' " There was an exclamation, followed by a resounding crash- Vane's triumphant hand dashed upon the table had shivered the cut-glass botties into atoms. CHAPTER XV. ANNA'S HOPE—AND ITS FULFILMENT, Even the short twenty-four hours of Paul Jnglis's stay at. OverclifTe produced its effect upon Anna, although once conscious of his presence. she remained a close prisoner within her room, leaving it only when -John Arbuthnot came to assure her he had driven Inglis to the junction a nd seen liiin away by tlio wesiern-lioujid train. "He had business in Plynouth, J understood," said John. Anna was paie again, her eyes heavily shadowed, and Arbuthnot now carried her off for a rable over the cliffs, hoping the sunshine and sea breezes combined would prove a n efficient tonic. "You must not shut yourself up again," he said ; "it's not good for you. I have been talking to Aunt Aylmer. and she will arrange. ditferenfly another time in the event of the arrival of a n unexpected and strange guest. It was a narrow escape, and yet" "I know—l know what you would say," she broke in, as John hesitated. "You are wondering how I can go on all my life hiding from people. The thought has been beating in on my brain all night with hammers seemingly made of steel. It is that, more than the mere isolation, that has caused me to loo}'! so haggard this morning. And —just think of it ! I might live fifty, even sixty years. Is there no way out, ?" "Unless with Vane's consent, and even then I. am afraid there are not sufficient grounds on which you can appeal for a dissolution of your marriage, Anna dear." "No grounds ? When he deceived me, broke faith, and boasted of it. onlv an hour or tw 0 after —after" — "I know ; but he might deny having done so, and th''re was no witness. Or he might declare you to have misunderstood his statements, and, you see, lawyers dealing with bard, dry facts rather than with sentiment, the circumstance that he had refrained from foreclosure —thus allowing your brother to regain session of his estates —would tell heavily in Vane's favour. I am assured that is the legal outlook, hence my using all my influence with Alec to kieep him from rushing like a bull at a K a te into the law courts on your behalf." "Ybu think Mr. Vane would be victorious ?" "I fear so," he answered', as if ten luctantly. , JV

"I will never live with him. ' declared Anna —" never ! 1 will kill him or he shall kill mo first." "Things won't come to thai : ' and Arbuthnot spoke lightly. e\<n while' some unknown dread gripi e:l his heart with fingers of iron. " 1 here is one chance, Anna. dear, that \ ane failing to learn your whereabouts, might grow weary of his anomalous position—a husband without win and himself institute a suit, praying nullity of the marriage on account of your desertion." "Would he succeed, do you ihitik? she exclaimed, her eyes flashing. "1 have reason to believe h would, if you positively refused to live with him" "Nothing shall ever make me do th a t." uttered Anna, with fierce determination, her beautiful grey eye* deepening almost, to black under tin intensity of her emotion-. " Ilv judge may send me to prison, (log me, torture me, condemn me to gaol i for the remainder of my liie. but "Come, come," broke in Jack'. "British judges —even ma'l er-oi-iact English judges, devoid of Seltie imagination—would never dream of anything so barbarous. Don't oven think of such horrors. Anna • Ihe remedy rests ultima! e! v with Van.-, and if you can only keep out oi his way, I am hopeful that his selfishness will lead him to seel i it. Hut you must not. live shut out >rom the light of day at. Abbot svale a second time. You are as dep- mk nt on light:, air. and freedom as a bird, and birds often die in captivity, you know." His cheery optimism, his occasional air of mastery. did mu( li lot Anna, and b\- the time they re' urn.-d after their ramble, to OveicUlie. Janie's reflections took quite a diiferent turn to those she had indulged in on the previous day. There surely couldn't be "another.' considering that Anna s e.\ i-s —that, morning sad and. shadow i-ii ueit now bright and sparkling, her lormer pale, sad face flushed and wreathed with smiles. Had Cousin Jack managed to break down her rejection—ii she had rejected him —and had she accepted him on the condition thy engagement was kept a protound secret, ? Nothing interested Janie so much as a love ahatr. I hat there was n mystery surrounding Anna she felt, quite sure, but both her mother and Cousin .lack hud b«cn equally impervious to a ny hints convey ing her obvious desire to know all about it, while Anna herself— though the dearest thing —was awfully "close." Janie failed to understand such an attitude. Had she a lover —and. of course, she meant to have one day — she would have taken the keenest delight in telling Anna about him —in the strictest confidence, oi course. But even after Cousin Jack went away Anita uttered no word in response to Janie's broadest hints, though she seemed happier, and tinlight still shone from her eyes. 1 nknown to -Janie, it was the light ot hope, kindled by John in h>s explanation that Vane, by reason of her refusal to live with him, might of his own accord procure an annulment oi her hateful marriage. That he would do so sooner or later she now' felt assured. lie had never loved her ; the man who of deliberate intent could so break ','aith had no conception of the meaning "i that sacred fire, Cod's greatest gut. ennobling and purifying the heart of man, a.nd raising if to higher th ngs. A true, lover could never ior one moment have even contemplated :-o base deception, nor been content to bargain for an unwilling bride, an I having obtained her, churlishly iviuse to pay the price. John was right:. Failing in his ambition to possess Abbot s\ale. why seek to retain nominal possesion of .lie girl who had not he-sitatod to declare that site preferred, and would seek release in. death rather than ?ndure the touch of his hand. Yes, she felt sure John was right. She would be patient, and then no doubt, in time : t lie man who was lr'r husband only in name would set her free. Thus Comforted, .-he entered into Janie's simple pleasures, and enjoyed the days as they came, each day hoping to hear from Alec that Vane had taken legal proceedings against her. since from his action only could she obtain the irecdom she so ardently desired. Alec was not a good correspondent, nor ever had been, but he strained a point now in order to put courage into poor Anna in her --nfoi'o d banishment. taking care, to post his letters in person unknown ; nd unseen by his wife. Then came a hurried > raw!. "Eliso was laid til 1 with hr'nec a.' and hj" had workmen in the i.mise. She Was pretty bad. but I he! e was n 0 cause for anxiety, the doctor assured him ; but Anna must not mind if Alec wrote less frequent iy . No cause «ov anxiety ! I'id Ali-c mean with regard to the secret ot his sister's hiding-place, or—or Slv had to fight- hard to drive av.a; the evil whisperings within h-r ">'■ •ring upon her how much better ii would be for both Alec and lie- s "o, if Elise were lo die. 'I hen Anna might go back to h"i' belov <! Air bofsvale and live happily with her brother as if no such persons as Elise and Felix Vane had e\er entered their lives. But she battled with the lemptalion to wish harm to the woman whose avarice and ambition h->d brought such sorrow into her young life, and whose action in oniormg Miwest wing in disguise leit a haunting fear lest Elise conlemuiatcd treachery. It was not easy, but Anna schooled her rebellious spirit into offering prayer for her sister-in-law's recovery, and tried hard to feel thankful when a telegram came. "Wise much better." Soon Alec, finding it much easier to wire than to write, .jdoptethis mode of communication. and whenever near a telegraph oilice sent a message to "Western. sometimes laconic, sometimes lengthy . but always affectionate, if lacking in actual news. And one day the message contained in the orange-coloured envelope delivered to Anna at the luiicheontab'e sent the blood rushing lo her cheeks, and then awav again. Mrs. Ay I titer tactfully appeared not to notice, but Janie secret ly w.• i c !'c ■i if the telegram came irom "an other." or could it b*> possible nom Cousin Jack ? After luncheon Anna sought her hostess, and placed the message in her hands. "Western,OvcrclilTo, near Salt"iton. Devon.—Am leaving; for London hy

express. \ ane lias begun an action for restitution, and your presence as well as mine is necessary to fight it. Take the four-ii\e p.m. from Exeter to Waterloo. It mv own train is punctual 1 will meet you. If you don't find me at station, take a cab to 3. Princess-street, St. James's, where 1 have secured apartments. Tell the landlady you arc Miss Strathearron. She expects us. —Alec." Mrs. Aylmer looked seriously at the, girl, who so strongly appealed to her sympathies. To her the ordeal of appearing in a public, court- of law, even with clean hands, presented itself as might the most, terrible of ordeals. Put Anna's cheeks were blazing, and her eyes bright, as if with anticipated pleasure. "You—l suppose you must go. hesitated Mrs. Aylmer; "but—but, my ilear child, you are surely not ! glad ?'' "T am ! I am !" cried Anna, in a fever of excitement. "That is what. John what Mr. Ar. Arbuthnot said. It rested with Mr. A ane to take proceedings, and then, if 1 reiuse to live with him, the court wiil grant a decree annulling the marriage. It is my only hope —my only hope, -be continued, clasping her hands convulsively- "1 have prayed, oh, so hard. that, he would do so ever since I learned the possibility, ami now: you see my prayers have been answered.'' Mrs. Aylmer could not but. admire. :-ven while she shuddered at the prospect of such a calamity befalling, or 3ven coining to the knowledge of her own sheltered Janie. "You —you are not afraid to travel alone, my clear'.'" she asked, wondering if she ought not to stand by this motherless girl in so dread an emergency. "Perhaps 1 ought, to to" "You ought, to remain here with Janie. dear Mrs. Aylmer." broke in Anna, stooping to kiss the. elder woman's check. "The journey is nothing. I would travel alone hall the world over in order to free myself from my hated bonds. And then you forget at the other end I shall have mv brother —dear, dear Alec." She took a loving leave of Jnnio. with the assurance they should meet again and soon. Her defiant mood broke a little as she kissed Mrs. Aylmer "Good-bye." and trying to thank her for her unremitting kindness and generous hospitality to a stranger, broke down and cried trcely in Airs. Aylmer's arms. But once in the train her wrongs returned to ler in double force. She recalled the journey from Scotland on her wed-ding-day, remembered the thinlyveiled in-sult.s, the mocking ieers at lier helplessness indulged in by Vane when he believed her to be. entirely at his mercy, and again hatred and detestation of the man surged up into her heart and deepened her -esolvc never lo swerve from her determination. It was dark, close, and sultry when at last the train ran into Waterloo, rind among the crowds on the platform Anna strained her tired eves hither a .nd tliil her. vainly endeavouring to see Alec s lowering form, though without success. At last the crowds thinned, and it became evident .Alee, was not there (o meet her. Aid she had hall-pre-pared herseli for the temporary disappointment. and now. remembering his instructions, called a. cab. giving :he driver the address contained by Alec's tele-gram. Site wondered why. as the cab crossed Westminster Bridge and the Embankment lights reflected their own brightness in the murky water (lowing beneath, she should :'eel so nervous. almost agitated Her heart was palpitating and her nand> trembling'. 'as though she feared some unknown danger. Was it not. Ihe mere anticipation of seeing the man sin- so loathed —lor if she had to go '"to the courts she supposed she must see him —or perhaps it was merely the effect on tier nerves of the noise a nd bustle ot London, alter the seclusion of Abbots vale and the peace of OverThen turning oIT the Haymarket into ■ ! ormyn-st reet, her cab. after sundrv devolutions, stopped before a quiet house, and before she could alight a neatly-dressed woman opened 'the front door and begged Anna to walk upstairs. "Mr. St rat lira iron sent nie to pay the cab, miss." she said, respectfully. 'He haven't been here more than a quarter of an hour or so. but was afraid to star;, out. for Waterloo for fear he'd miss you. First floor, miss. The door's open.'' Cleefully poor Anna ran up the t hickly-carpcted si a ireuse, think Ing. as she passed through a handsomely - furnished vestibule, that Alec had Ily-en very- extravagant in his choice of apartments. Then as she went into a room where the figure of a man couid dimly be seen in the -(-mi-darkness that, prevailed. the joyful cry, "Alec ! dear Alec !' died on her lips, and every drop of blood i[< her veins seemed turned to ice. Cor now the room was suddenly iloodod with brilliant, light, and facing her, with a triumphant smile on his sneering lips, stood, not Alec, but Felix Vane ! CHAPTER XVI. " Till; STORY MAY COST YOU DEARLY !" Cor an instant she felt incapable of movement ; then a deadly fanitness stole over her, the man's mocking lace became blurred, indistinct. There were noises in her oars. and the room seemed whirling round and round. Every thing—chairs, tables, the big carved sideboard, with its load of plate and porcelain, even the Singe oval, ebony-framed mirror over the mantelpiece whirling also, threatening- to overwhelm her in an avalanche of ruin and disaster she was powerless to prevent. Surely she was dreaming, and would awaken presently to find herself the victim of some hideous fantasy. . . Only a few- seconds passed, during which the turmoil in the girl's mind represented an a"'--- Then as she realised herself to be drifting away.int.o unconsciousness everything came to her as in a flash, and she fought with all her strength to overcome the physical weakness by which she wa.s beset. If ever she needed self-control, selfpossession. it was now —now ! (To be Continued.)