The Unknown Bridegroom OR, THE MYSTERIOUS WEDDING RING.

King Country Chronicle, Volume V, Issue 311, 12 November 1910, Page 7

The Unknown Bridegroom OR, THE MYSTERIOUS WEDDING RING.

(All Rights Reserved.)

By the Author of "Stella," "Twc Keys," Etc., Etc.

PART 4

Mis horse Avas timid, and every flash of lightning. with its accompanying artillery, caused liim to shyout of tiie road, thus nearly overturning the trap several times. J .eight on was extremely irritated because he was so far behind time, and lashed the ■.'rightened animal to his topmost speed. He was within a half-mile of his destination, when there came a blinding flash, followed by a terrilic crash, which caused the horse to spring into the air with a snort of fear, then plunge madly forward. Al that instant one of the traces snapped, the trap swayed out of its co ns,', and ran over a boulder on the side of the road, pitching the un 'oi 11 nate driver out into the dilch, where, stunned by the fall, he lay unconscious, while his reckless steed galloped on uncheacked, the injured trap clattering at his heels, and finally dashed into the spacious grounds of a residence, where he was found standing under a tree after the storm by the coachman of the place.

When I.eighton finally came to himself. the tempest was over, the clouds were rapidly dispersing, and the ■stars were shining brightly. With a groen of pain—for he was sadly bruised from his fall —he raised himself tn n silling posture, drew forth his watch, struck a match, and looked at the dial.

It was exactly a quarter to eleven. He had lain in the ditch nearly two hours, and he was drenched to the skin. lie swore angrily. "Too late !" he muttered. "For of course they would never wait for me until this hour."

.'lf ho had but known it, the returning party had passed him about, twenty minutes before, and it was very fortunate that lie had fallen off the road into the ditch to escape being run over by the carriage. He attempted to rise, but found himself so still and sore in every joint that he was obliged to settle back again : yet he was greatly comforted to know that he was able to move at all.

"Thank goodness.. no bones are broken," he breathed, with a sigh of relief. ''lt's% wonder, though, that my neck was not dislocated by that beastly fall. up and find my way to some place of refuge. 1 cannot stay here in this slouch a" night." With dilliculty he struggled to his feet and limped forward, hoping that he would soon come to some dwelling, where he could seek shelter for the night.

ISut presently Ihe welcome sound of wheels fell upon his eager ears, and a moment later a market waggon appeared in sight, and going in the direction from which he had come. lie hailed the driver, told him of his accident, and begged a ride back to town.

The man was kind-hearted, helped him uri to the seat beside him, making him as comfortable as possible, and an hour later left him in his own room. where, lame, sore a. sorry-looking' object indeed, and in a very unenviable frame of mind — he crept into his bed, from which he did not rise for a week or more. lie was in a. high fever the next mornina. and almost wild (rom anxiety and suspense when his friendly "best man" made his appearance to interview him regarding the delinquency of the previous night, and report the si range occurrence at the l.'osedale Chapel.

I.eighton's stale of mind may be imagined as he listened to the ac:01ml. of that mysterious marriage. "Who w a s he —who was that contemptible dastard?" he cried, almost beside himself with rage and ;ea! ousy.

" That is more than I can tell yon, ;>!d man, for he was closely enveloped in his mackintosh, with the collar up to his ears. ISesides the place was so dimly lighted, it seemed like 1 touib. and L could get only a v ery imperi'ect. idea of his features. Helie ving' him to be you, of course I was not suspicious. I should never nave discovered my mistake if he had not resented something 1 said lil out Ihe girl, and shut me up with a clap on the shoulder that was like a blow from a sledge-hammer. Then for a moment you might have knocked me down with a straw. I had thought, from the bridegroom's list appearance upon the scene, that vou did not act like yourself ; but I j1• 1 f it down to the excitement of the n omeut, because you were late, and eager to get the matter well over." the voung man explained. "Didn't lie speak? Couldn't you detect the difference in voices ?" queried l.eig'hton, sullenly. "Yes. 1 spoke to him as he came inlo sight, and he answered me ; but the rain and wind and thunder made such a noise I couldn't have recognised my' own father's voice. Then 1 hurried him into the chapel and straight to the altar, for those girls were nearly frightened out of their senses, and just ready to back out and go home, and"—here the fellow shot a sly smile at his companion—"J had 110 notion of losing the snug little amount you had pledged me. See ?" "Yes. 1 see." bitterly retorted Leighlon : "but I must confess 1 think vou were very short-sighted to allow an utter stranger to play such an abominable trick upon you. "Well, it you hadn't been so airaid to have light enough 1.0 see by. 1 might have detected the fraud but the sexton said you had given orders to have only one light, because the marriage was to be private, a lie you did not. wish to excite the curiosity of the villagers, and, as 1 said before, the place was like s

((,111!i. Tin- lVllov was about youi heigh t. lud. Lhong' l , perhaps, now J tliin!-, of it, a trifle broader aeros? the shoulders, and had a proudet way oi' carrying himself." "Who in tli'.' thunder could he have

been'. 1 " impatiently exclaimed thf disappointed bridegroom. " When

did he come ii'oni V How (fid he know what was going on, and what could have been his object in personating uie ?" "It is all a mystery." replied his friend, "and. what may strike you as stranger still, lie doesn't even know to whom he. was married" "I'shaw ! The,-,, was no marriage !" interrupted I.eighton. angrilv. "Such a farce would never stand. Ted."

"Weil, perhaps not," was the musing- response.

"Of course it won't stand." reiterated the other : "the very idea is too absurd to be considered for a moment. All the same, it. is a devilish, plight to be in."

"That is a fact- : Mi.-s Richardson doubtless tinds it so." Ted drily replied.

"What makes you think that fellow did not know her name I.eighton inquired, after a moment of silence. " liecause he asked me who she was. Of course, I refused to enlighten him: consequently he is as much in the dark regarding her identity as we are of his."

"CJood for you, Ted ; but I'd give a good deal to ferret him out."

"Tie demanded the certificate of me possibly with the intention of learning whom he had married, lie would have had it, too, if L hadn't dodged him, for I tell you he had a :jrip like iron." observed the "best man," a s he recalled the clutch of that strong hand upon his shoulder, "lly the way," he added, drawing an envelope from a pocket and tossing it upon the bed. "here is that document now. It is all properly signed, and you may as well take :are of it ; it. may prove useful tc jou some time in the future." The young man drew the paper out and studied it intently for a few moment s.

"Was there ever such a devilish piece of luck ?" he .demanded, irritably. "Ma," he added, with a. .'iolenl. start, "do you imagine it possible that old Seaver could have jiscovered our secret and followed is to stop the marriage, and when [ failed to put in a n appearance personated me to prevent a scene berector and a scandal about Florence '?"

"No ; Heaver is n little shorter :han you, and is a thick-set man. lie never could have fooled us all ike that."

"Well. T only hope he is still in :he dark for Florence's sail; as well my own. for I may be able to •arry my point and marry her yet". Vou say she seemed fully recovered ivhen you left her last night ?" in[uired I.eighton. with some anxiety.

"1 wonder what she th'nksof me? If 1 were able to move I would take :hc next train for New York and see ier on the steamer. I suppose they will sail in about three hours." said :he disappointed lover, with a sigh, .is he glanced at the clock, which ,vas v.iust upon the point of striking nine.

".Look here. Ted." he continued, with sudden energy, "why can't you ;o for me? I'll scribble a note for you to hand to her, and you can explain what, I haven't time to write."

"All right; I'll go." was the obliging reply. "Only you will have lo hustle, for there isn't such a jreat deal of time before the train will lie due."

"Hand me that writing-pad, then." said Leighton. pointing to one upon the table : and a moment later his ien was Hying over a sheet o'" paper :is he brieflv accounted for his nonappearance at Rosedale the previous light. lie entreated Florence !o preserve :heir secret, be brave and loyal to Tim. and lie would follow belli, road by the next steamer, when he .\ould see to i ( 'hat nothing should uterriipt a second attempt to make ier his wife.

Hastily folding and addressing his etier. he parsed it to his friend, ind charged him to d-liver it into 10 hands but Flon nce's. The Vo'.'iur man listened from the louse, while the di: appointed lover tank wearily bad. upon the pillows, or- the interview It ad s a diy taxed his strength.

Ho was just upon the point of fating into a dose, ulvn his door openid again, and his accomplice reap>eared.

"Well, what iv>w ?" he excitedly lemanded, and starting to a sitting jostiire with a gi'oan c> ! pain. "They are not going to sail tolay," said his friend. "I met. Sea,'er just at the top of the street "You don't mean it ! ('an anyliing have happened ?" breathlessly piest ioned Leight on.

"Yes : I stopped him. and expressed my surprise to find hini in town, .'.hen he informed me that their trip uul been indefinitely postponed owng to the sudden illness of Miss .{ichardscn."

"All ! That a flail" of last, night ,vas too lmich for her ! I'id lie ;peak of tier as being very ill ""Mi- says she has taken n sudden ml severe cold, lias a high fever, Hid is delirious"

•'Delirious !"' interposed J-eight on, n alann. "/.ounds ! 'led. 1 hope she won't <lU' ; that wouldn't suit ny game if she should."

An involuntary snoer curled his .'ompanion's lips at this supremely -elfish speech, which contained not ine woid of regret for the suffering if the lovely girl for whose condi.ion he alone was responsible. ■•However," Leigh ton continued, 'she is young, has a naturally <trong Constitution, and this enforced postponement of her trip may estilt, ir, my I'avpur. Your news las done me more good thanmedi.:inc. Ted, though I have some pain"ul bruises that make me squirm. I wish I was sur<' tjiat horse has not .Mine to grief, Would you mind ■stepping round to t'o.NeS stable, eil him the scrape I got into last ■litiht. and get him to send some one in quest oi the horse and trap ■ Of course. I II make it a" right with ■tim. whatever has happened. "Certainly, old man. Anything I

can do for \ou. I'll be glad to do. returned his friend, good-naturedly, and at once staned out on his nt'ssion.

Fortunately, I he horse and trap I-,ad al ready been returned to I he owner, the man's name having been stamped upon the carriage rug. and no serious damage had been done aside from a few scratches to thi: trap. I'pon hearing this. ] .eight on declared that his star was again it the asc'iidant . Kvery day after that, he managei to get a report from Florence

through her maid, Anna, and ;u soon as he was able to get out. In called in person and interviewed Mr Seaver regarding her condition. 'I he following Iwo weeks prove, ;i;i anxious sea-on for him. for tlx ;>o'ing girl was very ill. and lie live< in consta.it! ('ear that she would die. and h'-r fortune. up n n which he ha< set his lieai'l. slip through his lingers. As t lie weary days wore on, however, atid he was unable to gain any clue to the mysterious stranger whe had personated him at the altar, a new idea took form in his fertile brain, and he began to concoct a \ illainous scheme.

lie had in his possession the marriage certificate which seemed to prove him Ihe husband of the beautiful heiress. IX was properly signed by the clergyman who had performed the ceremony. and who would doubtless attest to the fact. Xi one save his friend Ted. and possibly Anna, suspected the truth. an< they would swear to anything it well paid. t Y'llsequcnt ly if Floreli't; should die lie le'ieved he could-safe-ly produce the document, claim Ihe fori line, and no oive could prevent his getting it.

r.ut this vile plot was not destined to be carried out. for at the end ol

three weel-m Florence Was pronounced out of danger, and from that, linn, began In mend rapidly.

I.eighton now became more attentive than ever, sending her daily offerings of fruit and flowers and many other tokens of his abiding affection, also writing her tendei ?l'fusions, begging- her to respond to him as soon as she should be strong nough to guide a pen. The long-wished-for missive cann to him at last, but instead of be:n ; - the fond and submissive response he had hoped and expected, it caused him the deepest chagrin and disap nointment. •

CHAPTER V. A SPIRITED ]NTEHVJF.W. l'lie letter which Florence HichardSon wrote to her lover had been penned alter much careful thought and considerat ion. and read as follows: "Hear Walter. —This is the first day I have felt able to write, and I make it my first- duty to answer your many notes to me, and to thank you for your numerous attentions and Kind remembrances during my illness. Von have begged me. to allow you to come to me as soon as 1 am suflicicnUy convalescent to receive you. Before granting your request I am going to tell,, you frankly that during my illness my feelings have undergone a radical change, and I know now that I never loved vou well enough to become jour wife. Forgive me if I pain you, but truth and candour are certainly best under the circumstances. J tremble when 1 look back and realise what a narrow escape we both have had. Hut u>r your, accident and detention on that memorable night, we should have been irrevocably bound to each other, and doomed to pav the penalty of the greatest mistake of our lives. Yes, Walter, I am sure ii would have been a fatal mistake, am I hope you Will look upon the mat tor in the same light that I do. J :un never be you wife, Walter, and 1 wonder how 1 could have been so long blind to the true state of my feelings, and, more than all, how I could ever have consented to a ,'landestine marriage. It seems to me now such a weak and foolish thing for any girl to do. If a man truly loves a man well enough to become his wife, and is assured (hat lie is worthy of that love, she should be strong enough to stand boldly tin. in the face of all opposition. and assert her position. She should never burden herself with -ucli n secret, or consent to live a lie. I am greatly perplexed and troubled over that wretched farce in the church of God, over the identity of that mysterious stranger. and whether that ceremony could by any possibility be regarded as legal. ] devoutly hope not, for my whole soul revolts against the thought of being irrevocably pledged to a man whom I have never seen, and who seems to have disappeared as mysteriously as he canie. I trust, Walter, that we may be good friends always. ;11 id that you will agree with me that it is better we should live lpart. I am sure that papa, were lit.' living'—even though he appeared to sci earnestly desire that I should many the son of his best triend — would, knowing my present feelings, uphold me in this step. fam notstrong enough to see you yet. so 1 nefer to write rather than verbally disclose my changed sentiments. In u couple of weeks from 10-dAy. if you cai'c to come to me in a friendly way, T shall be glad to see you : but please do not renew this subject, for my decision is irrevocable. — Sincerely your friend. "Florence K. Richardson."

Walter l.eighton's face was almost convulsed with wrath after readiing this letter. Its tone was very different from thi* usually I ighthearted, rare-free Florence whom lie luid hitherto known. There was a calm .seriousness, a dignified decision, apparent, in its every line, which plainly told him that, the girl was indeed changed—that she had suddenly developed fr o iiL the thoughtless maiden into a gravely-reasoning; woman. But he raved and swore, and vowed that she should not. escape him like 1 his—that lie would never allow' the fortune for which he had so long .schemed to slip through his fingers without, making' a desperate effort. to secure it, and he had u bold plan in mind. At. the end of the stipulated two weeks he made his appearance at the Se;t\ers's. and asked to see !• lorence. lie was courteously although sot new ha i coldly received. It was their usual attitude towards hint. howe\ei\ ~mil lie paid no special heed to ii . ! I proved to liiin that they had not a suspicion of the incident whith had resulted in the illness hi their ward, for, had t hey lea I'll; d of it they surely would have refus-'d him admission to their house. Alter chafing a few moments with them, lie was conducted to the private sitting-room of Florence. lie found her cha rmi ngly a rra\ ec in Ihe daintiest of dresses, and in spite of her unusual pallor and thinness he thought he had never seep her look more beautiful.