The Unknown Bridegroom OR, THE MYSTERIOUS WEDDING RING.

King Country Chronicle, Volume V, Issue 321, 17 December 1910, Page 7

The Unknown Bridegroom OR, THE MYSTERIOUS WEDDING RING.

(All Itignts Reserved. £

Hy the Author of "Stella,"- -"Two Keys," Etc., Etc.

PART 11. The carriage finally stopped before a Ihree-storcy brick building in a quiet and ill-lighted street. ■Before cither men in front could alight, however, that figure behind sprang to the ground and darted behind the steps of an adjoining house: hut after Monica had been bornewithin, and the ambulance driven o!T, the figure in hiding stealthily emerged again, darted up to Ihe door "that had just closed upon (hesick girl, struck a match to see the number, and then hurried from the locality. Early on the morning following Monica's removal, Carl King and his daughter vacated their apartments, in older that they might be properly fumigated to prevent contagion. They took rooms at a fashionable hotel for a week", and immediately advertised for tx companion and chaperon for a young lady who was about to make a tour of the Continent-. Tv. o days later liw7. was overrun with applicants for the position, but she very speedily made up her mind to engage Mrs. Clairemont, whose fine personal appearance and pleasing manner at once recommended her to the girl's good graces. This matter arranged, they proceeded directly to Egypt and the Holy Land, and spent nearly a year in leisurely travel, with an eflicient courier, visiting almost every point that has any attraction for travellers. They arrived in Taris early in July having now been away from home about two years. After spending a month in this gay city Carl King one day announced to his daughter that he must return to Mexico—that he had "loafed long enough, and just ached to get Lack into the mine again." "Oh, let the mine alone, dad !" said Inez, with an-impatient shrug of her shoulders. "Let it alone ! Well, that's a good one !" he cried. "Why, my girl, I'm go'ng back to make the richest strike ever heard of. I got the tip from Hill before he was killed, I've only got to follow the mine in a westerly direction, and I'll be the richest man in America presently. Now you understand why I must go back."

"Hut I'm not going home yet, clad," said Inez, with a wilful toss of her head.

"Well, 1 know of nothing to hinder you staying if you want to," replied the man, after a thoughtful pause ; "only, of course, I*ll miss you after the good times we've been framing. 1 suppose T could run over to sec you now and then, and after L'vc had just two years- at that new vein I'll be satisfied to sell out ; then I'll come here for good, and we'll live like a couple of nabobs to the end of the chapter. My girl, I don't suppose you realise that you are the heiress to a round three million dollars, and will have as much more" "Dad," interposed the girl, catching her breath sharply, "you can't mean it ! " "It's true,, every word," he assert?d. "And it all belonged to Monica bc"ore" "Ves, bi'forc she—died." "Died !" gasped Inez, losing her arillianl colour. "We'l, yrs— to the world. It imounts to about the same thing — that is, as long as we pay handsomely for her keeping ; but the less said about that the better, even between ourselves, for we can't tell who may be listening." The next week found Carl King in London, --and it was he who had accosted Florence Richardson in Re-gent-street in Regent-street, claiming Her as "his girl," and was knocked senseless by the powerful list of Mr. Carrol, who claimed that he was ?ither insane or intoxicated. Two or three days after Monica's removal from the West-end lodgings, a stout, gipsyish-looking woman appeared at the area door of the house to which she had been taken, and rang the bell. Shi! carried upon her arm a basket which contained an unusually cheap array of cheap laces and small wares. A woman of about, thirty years, evidently a servant, answered her ring. "I don't want am thing to-day." she said, wearily, before the pedlar had time to speak, and half-closing the door as she spoke. pleaded the vendor of laces in a musical, appealing tone, "trade is s 0 dull to-day. Ruy just a thimble, lady, if nothing else, then I'll tell your fortune for nothing." "1 do not need a thimble," said the woman ; " mine is full of holes: but 1 have no money by me, and I'm too tired to go up to the attic to get it. An eager look leaped into the gipsy's e,\ es regarding her ; but they were quickly averted as the pedlar passed out a box of thimbles, and said in the same musical tone as l.cfoio :

J.'evcr mind the money now : take One. I will l;e back in a few days again, and you will pay me then. Tlicy'rc only a penny, anil you do look ready to drop—as if you hadn't slept." "I was up nearly all night with a sick girl, and I've had my regular work) to do just the same to-day." said the woman, with a sigh, as she fitted a thimble to her linger. .Ag.iiii' that eager look flashed into the lace vendor's eyes. "One of the servants ill '?" she carelessly inquired. "Law," no ; the servants don't have time to be sick in this house. It's a poor girl that was brought here two or three days ago, and she's awful bad" "Will she get well ?" questioned the gipsy. "The Lord only knows. ''l'll t a kie this one." said the woman, as

j found a thimble to suit her. Tw 0 days later the gipsy returned, ' and the same woman answered her ring, and her face lighted involuntarily as she saw the pedlar. She got into conversation wilr the girl, who was glad to have some one with whom she could converse. Several months went by, and stil' the gipsy pedlar continued to frequent the street with her basket o' small wares, and she and the servant continued to be- upon the best o! terms ; bist one day, on making hei usual round, she saw the woman ivat very much upset over something. Or inquiring the cause she was tolc that No. 3 5 had escaped. If the servant had not been sc nervous herself she couid not have failed to notice the pallor that swepl over the gipsy's face in spite, of it.* swarthy hue. "When did this happen •.'" the gipsy inquired. "Only yesterday. Eor two weeks now I hey have let her go out in the yard at/ the back of the house te walk and get. air, as they all dc when they behave themselves, and yesterday she went, out as usual : but when the doctor went to tell hei to come in she was missing, and 1 tell you he is in a fra.me of mind .1 don't envy."'

Eor a week or two longer the pedlar made her accustomed visits, but the report regarding Xo. 15 was always the same, not a clue to her whereabouts having been discovered: then all at. once the gipsy disappeared, ami was never seen in the neighbourhood again.

CIT.W'TKU XV IT. a snnussivK iwtikxt. We will now- go back to the hour (hat Monica w a s removed to the private hospital—so called—kept by l>r. Flint in a remote though very respectable street in London. She w a s too ill at that time to realize anything that occurred, and did not know that she had been separated from her covs'.ns until about three weeks later, when she awokc. to consciousness in a strange room, and found a strange woman attending her. She was very weak, almost too weak to move hand or foot, but she faintly inquired where she was. "You were taken bad with the typhus, my dear, and had to bo brought here to the hospital," the attendant soothingly replied, She was too lethargic, to ask further questions, and soon sank into a deep sleep. I.ate one afternoon she became :l:ntly conscious that two persons were carrying on a confidential conversation about her. "'Well, it is evident that she is going to get well : but it has been the closest shave 1 have ever seen, for I've never had a worse case," Monica heard the voice of a nian observe. "That's the truth," responded the nurse, "but I fancy the man who gave her to you won't be over and above pleased when he knows she's ?oing to weather it—that is. if your theory is correct, that she is the leiress, and they are after her money What are. you going to do with her when she gets V.p V 'Tut her in No. I~> ; that's the best room we have, and she is to nave every comfort, you know. Of course, it is a very mild case of insanity, but it will need close watching, all the same, because the charges will be heavy—see ?" "Yes. like most of tho others where fortunes are concerned." was ihe sneering response. A terrible shock went quivering through Monica at these strange sentences, and it was well for her that she was still too weak to move. or she would doubtless have betrayed that she had overheard the conversation. As it was she never stirred, but lav breathing faintly, as if she were still in the" same stupor that had Held her during the last few days. and scon after giving the nurse some directions the doctor left the

room. Monica had a 1-ad turn a little later, the result, pro' ably, of ih" shock she had received : but the next :la.v she was better, and continued to improve" from that time on. But what she had heard gave her food for serious thought, throughout her convalescence-. Instead of becoming excited and restive over her condition, she calmly bided her time and awaited developments, preserving her natural sweetness a nd amiabiliiy. mid made as little trouble' as po.-sible for 1 oth her,doctor and at tendant . She cultivated sociability with her nurse, when she was able to talk, freely asking lier questions regarding how' she happened to be there and why: and how long she would have to stay. &c. and a ppearing to swallow 1 every lie that was told her and to be ■ quite content . oil the whole, with her condition and surroundings. There was a'kifge yard at the back of the house, and lat u nts were sometimes allowed to walk for ;, lew minuted ;l t ~ time in it and to visit th,. hand ome roiisersatory which was one <>!' the doctor's /ads. There came a day when Monica was permitted this privilege—one that she had long ; ,nd most earnest - lv desired. ;i nd she was so hapi>> c.nd gram'td to l>r. Flint, that he finally allowed her to go out nearly every day. and to remain longer than the other patients. From the first she made friends with the gardener, for she dearly loved flowers. and thus easily won the man to talk about his work to her. while sometimes she would ask to be allowed to help him in cutting and arranging (lowers that were to be sent out.

Olio Thursday—'•rubbish day," as Monie'a called it—she arose with the determination to make a desperate effort for freedom.

An hour or so a-'ter she had had her breakfast, and while she was loving listlessly with some embroidery, I)i\ Flint walled in upon her for a little visit. She led him on to talk about dowers, and then she suggested that he should take her to see the greenhouse. The doctor assented hesitatingly. teaching the conservatory, they were joined by the gardener. «'''o hegan to inquire about the potting ol some plants. "May I go to look ati the roses. Mr. Tucli.T, while you are talking?" inquired Monica. "Yes. Kim along, miss, and see the Marechal Niels. There, are some beauties out to-day," the man returned ; and Monica turned away. "Are the back doors locked, Tucker ?" queried I»i\ Flint, in a low

tone. The man turned and glanced behind him. "Yes. There's the key en (he peg where it hangs," the gardener answered. Monica was just passing into the rose-house as I'r. Flint sj oke, anc her keen ears caught what he said. She did not hear Tucker's response. but saw him turn, to assure himsel that the key was in its place, anc her qtiick wit told her his object, and what, she had never known before—that the key to the back door o each house was kept upon a. con venient peg at the entrance. She walked slowly on between th< rows of llowers. until she saw the doctor and his companion enter another division of the conservatory when, stooping low. she darted badto search for that precious key. She espied it almost immediateh upon reaching the' door. With a gasp of joy she seized it from its peg. and then sped witt nimble feet towards the outlet at the back. .Monica opened the door at the enc of the rose garden. 1 hen >he (lew back and restored the ke.\ to its place. She had bareiy got inside the rose garden again when she heard the doctor aiid Tucker return to the :>uter room, and she was very thank:"ul that she had acted a s she had. Hoth men., came into the house where she \v a s. and looked about foi a while, hut did not pay much attention to her. as she. appeared ,„ b (; absorbed in picking oil dead leaves here and there, as the gardener har taught and allowed her to do whenever she came t here.

At length l>i\ Flint, observed (hat it was time to ao in. Monica's heart sank within her at his command : btit without allown; , sign of h.-i- emotion to become visible, she looked 111> at. him with gentle ippeal and said : "Phase let me siav a little longer, 111.' roses a'e so. lo\e!v." •■Well, if Tucker doesn't mind." he replied, giving U;e mail a wink. "No. sir. I d.o not mind. She i- c i-ompatiy for me. and 1-11 bring- hot in before lnneh-i ime." said the man "All right ." the doctor returned, and th.n hastened to his room where' he was expecting a patient. The gardvner stood lalking witfc Monica for a moment or two. broke off a few flowers for her. then, remarking that lie was going- to fill some pots to take some euttiivrs, but would be back presently, left her by herself again. The moment he was out of sight the girl literally llew to the real door again, and ;1 low cry of joy escaped her as she saw the under gardener just in the act of wheeling a 'larrowfu! of rubbish through t lie :loor in the wall. lie did not close it after him. and Monica could just, discern hint shovelling the debris into barrels that were standing there, after which lie •eturned to the enclosure, shut the :loor, turned the ponderous key in :he lock, but did not r-move it. and ■ hen he went his way for another oad. Monica waited until he disappeared round the corner of the greenhouse, hen with a quick glance behind her o assure herself that she was no' teing observed, lifted the latch < he conservatory door and passe, i jut. carefully closing if after her. A short run brought Ivm- to Ihe ioor in the wall. With trembling but st rongl.\ -nerv>d hands she turned the key. pushed ler way out. shut the door after ier. and in another moment was in he street— fi\ e * She was thankful that the log ,v a s still dense, although it seemed .o he lifting a little, for she knew t would lie very dilbcult to trace 1 ier in it. With ihe speed of a fawn she crossed the street, and. glancing Kick. breathed a sigh of relief to ind that she could scarcely distinruish the door through which she iad just escaped. (ill. if was glorious lo he iherty once more ! It seemed as if .1 leaden weight had been suddenly ifted from her heart and brain, and die could have shouted aloud for :ov had she dared. She kept steadily on. and soon turned another corner, and then the iext although she had not the slightest idea where she was.

It was beginning to rain again. ;ind she crossed to the opposite side :if the street, thinking' she would be more sheltered, as the storm seemed lo I,low from that direction. Presently she passed a carriage, although she .did not see it until -he was almost up with it. It was -landing before a. house, and the driver was . ngaged in fixing' the iridic of one of his horses, and just glanced up at her as she passed. She walked on a few paces : then it occurred to her to turn back and a sk the man to direct, her to the nearest street where she could get a •|ms that would take' her to the phicc where she had been staying with the Kings. She had determine,! to go straight there, and if i hey were there confront them, denounce them, and demand her rights.

She had almost, reached the carriage, when she heard a door violently thrown open on the opposite side of the street. The next moment she heard r man's voice call out excitedly : "Hi. there ! Is that a cab "." Priver, come here, a moment, will you?" "t «»!-*- At the sound of that voice Monica's heart sprang into her throat, for by it she instantly recognised Pr. Flint. In her ignorance of loea.Hty. and blinded by the fog. she had inadvertently travelled in a circle, and come out upon the very street in which Ins residence fronted, and now something in Ins tone told her that her flight, had been discovered, and lie was looking for her there, while doubtless the gardeners were searching the grounds and street for her. What should she do ? She had leaped forward at the first word the man uttered, and was now close under the shadow of the carriage'. I!i;t for it a nd the friendly fog—which, however, was growing lest dense every moment—she must have been discovered before this. She dared not stir now lest she attract the attention of both the driver and the doctor, and so she stood still and breathlessly listened. (To be Continued).-