The Unknown Bridegroom OR, THE MYSTERIOUS WEDDING RING.

King Country Chronicle, Volume V, Issue 333, 1 February 1911, Page 7

The Unknown Bridegroom OR, THE MYSTERIOUS WEDDING RING.

(All Jiiyhls liosL'J'ved.).

+ f!v the .Author of "Stella," "T«'c Keys." Ftc., Ftc.

PAIiT "Heavens !" she cried, in a startie(l loii''. and shrinking back as ii she had hoeii struck. "What is i! ?" questioned Monica, hroat hlessly. Hefore Florence could lvoovor her own breath to reply, a weak, plaintive voice sounded from the other side of the panel. "(Hi. please, can't ) 011 lift it up higher and lei nie out ?" "<>h." cried Florence, white to her li| s from that chilling touch upon her ih.'i'U and the sound of that pathetic voice, "there is somebody out there ! It is no ghost either, but a t\ al human being" ! " •What can it mean ?" questioned Monica. shivenn- in sympathy. "Why, I thought there was nothing but a solid wall hack of us. These rooms surely back up against the end of this end of the '.rowers !"

"Yes, J know there is nothing but a solid wall oulside, though there are a couple of chimneys that run up through it," Florence responded;

"but there certainly must be a. passago between two walls, leading somewhere. It. is very strange, but perhaps this creature—whoever or whatever it is—can tell us. I am going to 1 ry to tind out." Once more, having recovered somewhat from her shock, she bent to the floor and placed her lips to the aperture. "Who are yon." she inquired, "and how does it happen that you are out there in the dark?" "Oh, please, can't you get the door up?" pleaded the weak voice again. "It is dreadful here, and I've teen shut up so long." "J cannot get the door up any further just now, but I will soon have some one here who can,'' Florence returned in a reassuring tone, for she recognised the voice to be that of a child, and it appealed to her strangely. "Now, tell me, she added, "who are you, and how you nappen to be there ?" "J —I am .Jamie Carrol, and a :iad, wicked man brought me here, jnd hut me into a dreadful place lown below—under this great house," ;ame the astonishing reply, that sent mother shock quivering through ivory ill re of Florence Richardson's >ei ng. CIIAI'TF.W XXXI. KNTICFI> TO TIIF TOW'FKS. The name of ".Jamie Carrol" had .tart led Florence beyond measure, or her mind instantly reverted to \lr. Carrol's protege, of whom he lad given her a history during that :vening which he had spent with her il London previous (o her trip to the Continent lie had told her that he had given -he boy his own name until he could •est ore him to his parents and learn lis identity. But how could it be possible, she \sked herself, that the boy was there it Worthing Towers, and a prisoner -for shell he seemed to be—in a secret passage ? Surely it vo'ild not be the same Jamie, and vet it did not seem ikely that there should be—in a se•rot passage ? Sureiy it could not be the same Jamie, and .vet it. did not seem likoy that there should be two .Jamie Jarrols.

Hut her sympathies and her curosils wcii' iimv all aroused, and slio .vas dotermined to sift the mystery :o the bottom.

"Jamie Carrol." she repeated, ns 1 iOon as she could recover her breath, ■ u hero is \our home, and who is the jail man "who has shut you up?" "1 haven't any home, only with my mcle Can ol," replied the boy, "and ; ie lives in London at No. 550, We!- ! i nit on •( errace. We funic down to ; Worthing for a holiday. One day ni: met a man. who didn't seem to i ;>e a very good friend to I nele Car- : col ; lull he told me where I could some starlish. 1 went early the i n:\\t. morning to the place to gel ; i hem. but the tide was in. and I had iio wait. "While r was waiting- the i ■iaini' man came down to the rocks, ; where I was. and asked me if 1 i wouldn't like to see his nice horses while I was waiting for the tide to i iv,, out. I like horses, and so 1 went, with him. lie. took me ill through a window* to a beautitul ; room where there were stacks and -stacks of hooks" ! "Hut didn't sou meet anybody °n I t he w a.v ?" interposed Florence, won- ! deringly. ' "'No ; it was so o»i'ly noboily scciui :.'d to be up." saiit the boy. "After i he —the man—had let me look about | ;l little at the pictures, and the j marble nun and women, lie opened a | door behind a curtain, and sairt we j could go out to the stables through i ;i side passage. We went down a j few steps, when he opened another ' door into a l'lace that seemed like a ! eellar. only it was lighted a little from tie' top. I had just stepped ! down into it, when he said he must I lake the key with liini, and went I ' a<.'l> to the door. lie went, out, ! hut. it, and locked it, and left nie j there alone, and then 1 knew* he meant, to keep me there for some reason, perhaps to spite Uncle Carcol, whom I'm sure he hates, for ! when I've asked him to let me go j back to him he alsvass smiles hor- ; ril.ly and—swears." " Win. Jamie. what a dreadful ! s tors' ! ' Florence übsersed. "Anil i you say jmi svent otil of a room j that, had a lot of books in it to this ; dreadful cellar?" j "Yes ; and the dour slid up like this oil", onls it went away up. It ' lu, d a red curtain os er i t. " "llosv loiij: have sou been hero, ms' poor 1 ii »s .'' " \lmost t.hi ee week.-." "Ami has'i: sou had enough to "Yes. he brings me something in a, j basket esery day. and he always | cymes ini o the cellar by the door

at the foot of those stairs" —- "Oil. then, there is a flight oi. .stairs out there ?" interposed Florence. deeply interested. "Yes. a long llight of sl.one steps, only 1 didn't know it, until to-day. H was so dark that the lirst day uivn he brought, mc here I didn't see them ; but this morning he was in a hurry, and forgot to lock the cellar door, and alter he had gone into tlv book-room I stole out and began to climb ihe stairs. It., is so dark 1 can't see much of anything ; but I pounded on the wall all the way along', hoping I could make somebody hear. 1 have been up and down two or three times to-day, and a little while ago I thought I heard somebody in here, and so I thumped and thumped, and called until I was almost tired out."

"Poor child," said Florence, in a pitying tone. "Well," she added, turning to Monica, "this is the strangest story I ever heard of outside o. a novel ! What can it mean "I am sure J have no idea : it seems incredible to me," Monica returned. "It would be to me also, oniv 1 happ< n to know something about .Jamie Carrol, and also that this gentleman whom lie calls uncle, resides at No. 30. Wellington-ter-race," replied her cousin. "Can. that be possible? But what object could any one in this house have in making the child a prisoner ?" inquired Monica, with a look of perplexity. "I am sure 1 cannot, tell : it seems the greatest mystery in the world to me." said Florence. Then turning back to the boy. she continued : "I know* all about, you. .Jamie, and I am acquainted with your 'uncle Carrol.' " "Oh. are you cried the youthful goice. eagerly. "And you will help me to go back to him ?" "Yes. indeed, I will," heartily replied Florence. "But tell nie, .Jamie, who was this bad man who locked you into the cellar—what is his name ?" "I don't know, ma'am,: only lie said Worthing Towers belongs to him" "Heavens, Monica, it must have been Sir Walter !" exclaimed Florence. in a startled tone. "I n ,vou think thai can lie possible?" asked Monica, with a doubtful sha' ; e of her head. "Why should he desire to imprison a boy like this?" 1650.

"Well. 1 think 1 could believe almost anything of him after what he said to me to-night," responded Florence, thoughtfully. "If he is bo lost to all principle as to plan to force me into a marriage with him in such n dastardly way, he would ilo worse to further his own ends, only I can see no object for such an outrage as this. .Jamie," she added, turning again to him, "can you describe this man to me '?" "Yes; he is pretty tall and very swell looking. his hair and eyes are black, and he has a. moustache. He L'an be very nice, too ; only since I've been lure the look in his eyes and his smile has made me shiver. I'm afraid of him," said the boy, in :i tremulous tone. ll,e has certainly described Sir Waller !" exclaimed Monica. Florence nodded, and a look of defiance and determination gleamed in iier eves. ".Jamie," she said, kindly, as fche put her lips again to the aperture, "I am going to ask you to try to be patient for a little. I cannot get this door open any further, and i dare not, ask any of the servants to help 1110. for if the man who brought \on here is your enemy—as -eetus likely—something worse might Happen to you if he should suspect that your presence here had been discovered. " "Oh. but I do so w a nt to get out," moaned Jamie plaintively: it's so co'd and dark here. If I -.■ on Id only get to I'tide Carrol I should he safe, and I am sure he doe.'n't Know what lias become of me." A sob completed the pathetic senfences, and Florence's heart ached, for the boy . "It will only be a little while that you will have to wait, dear," she said, gently. "I have a friend here at the Towers. t () whom Tam going 10 tell \ our story, and perhaps he will take care of you until we can ta'p you to your unjle Carrol ; but \ 011 must be patient until unfriend comes." "1 will." said -lamie. in a more hope.'ul tin. 1 ; "but may 1 stay here close to you until lie comes ?" -Yes : if you are sure the ' bad m;in' will not go to the cellar and find > (JU are gone." "Oh. he never comes but once n day. ar.d that is very early in the morning." explained the boy.

■■l'.tit it must be very uiic-oinfoi-l--able out there un those stone steps. Havni't \ou a bed down in the cellar?" inquired Flortnce. '"Yes. a pretty good on.', too ; but I'd rather stay here, if you please. It is nice to see a light and hear kind voice," said Jamie, yearningly. "Foor little fellow!" said the .svmpathet.ic girl, her eyes dimmed with tears. "I wish Uncle llobert would come in : 1 believe he would soon find a way to release him. Mark!" she interposed, with a start. "Monica, did you not hear some one knocking a t- my do o r She sprang to her feet as she spoke, and had just dropped the curtains over the panel, when there came ;1 tap upon-Monica's door. "Come." said Monica, as Florence sank into a chair at some distance from the panel, and Anna, their maid entered. Th.' girl turned a quick, suspicious look from one cousin lo the other, and then obsersed : "Sir Walter has sent lee to inquire if yon ladies will be kind enough to rejoin the guests in the drawing-i'oom. • | a m ]l( ,t going (low ii again loniuht." said Florence, coldly. "You can present my excuses to \ our master" —v. ith a slight stress upon Lhe word that caused Anna to start anil regard her curiously—"and say l|, ; ,i ) ;|• i i indisposed. And Anna." idle continued, as she arose y.n<l stem)v confronted her. "i wish to add that t will dispense with your ser* vices for the little while longer that I shall remain here."-

" \ cry wtil. Miss Florence," aiici the girl. bridling, but Hushing a guilty scarlet. "It. "ill. of course, hsive (o he as you say, only I'm sure ! don't understand such an order. when I've tried faithfully to do my duty " "Yes, there is no doubt that you have been faithful to your master's interests," Florence retorted, significant ly. "I have to-night learned why you are here at the Towers—\on are a spy and a tool for Sir Walter Leighton. You understand, Anna, you a' - e not to enter my room nor my presence again while 1 am lime," she concluded, in a tone and with n look there was no mistaking. With a toss of her head that implied a great deal, but with a look of unmistakable guilt on her face, the girl flounced angrily from the room, banging the door alter hi r. "Why, Florence, what is lhe uti'iining of such severity towards Anna?" exclaimed Monica, turning to her cousin in astonishment. Whereupon Florence related all that had occurred during her recent interview with Sir Walter, and also the story of her attempted elopement with him the year previous. It was the first time the secret had ever passed her lips, and her cousin listened spellbound throughout the narrative. "What a romance !" she exclaimed when Florence concluded. "And it certainly is evident that the girl is here as a spy and to perjure herself in her master's cause. Really, dear, I am afraid that Sir Walter has you at a great disadvantage, and now I understand what you meant a little while ago when you said something about his forcing you into a marriage with him. It really seems as if the burden of proof is all on his side, since he has that certificate and can summon so many witnesses." "Hut. I know f am not his wife,"' Florence persisted, with blazing eyes. "But if he should appeal to the law-, T believe he would win his ease, for you certainly cannot prove that you are not his wife, unless that stranger can be found and made to testify that he stood beside you during that ceremony. Fven then he would he only one against many, for it is doubtful if you would be able to identify him," Monica argued.

"No. I could not identify him," returned Florence, with a weary sigh ; "but, of one thing I am certain. and that is that 110 power 011 earth can ever corn-pel me to admit that, lam Walter Leighton's wile, or force me to live for even One hour in this house as such. Oh, if Uncle Kobert would only come!" she concluded impatiently. She arose as she spoke, and, passing out into the corridor, leaned over the balustrade and peered anxiously into the hall below. Mr. Weaver entered while she stood there, and, glancing' up,, caught her eye. She beckoned to him. and lie im mediately came upstairs to her. '•What is it. Florence?" he inquired, as he noticed her anxious look. "Come into Monica's room," she said, linking her arm within his. "T have a story to tell you that will make your hair rise on end. "Tut. tut ! Another story !" he observed, in laughing surprise. "Well, this seems a night for revelations She drexv him within the room and shut and locked the door : then facing him, she laid both her hands in his, clinging to him appeulingly. "Uncle Kobert." she began. tremulously, "yuu will ho greatly shocked at. the secret 1 am about to tell yuu ; but the time has come when I can no longer conceal it from you."' "Mess my soul ! Why, you really startle me, Florence. Sit down, child ; sit down. You look ready to drop. 'J here ! Now unburden yourself, and you needn't be afraid of the old man, either." he returned, in a hall-jesting, halt-troubled tone as he drew forward a chair for her. and then sat down beside her. The girl still-clung to one of his hands, as if thus 10 gain strength for the task before her, and then began her story, and told him all about that one mistake of her life.

iSJio kept nothing - baeli. She told |io\v u year pi eviou.s Walter l.eighton had seemed to gam an. influence over her that she could not resist ; how she finally yielded to his persuasions for a secret marriage, and had gone to Kosedale Chapel, fully expecting to become his wife. She described the storm, the long delay of the bridegroom, and how, when at length he was supposed to have arrived, the ceremony was hurriedly performed, and then when she turned to ask him to taku her from the place she found that a stranger was standing beside her, and she fainted. Siie /'elated how, when Walter had come to her after her illness, he lisid tried to laugh her out of that idea, insisting that it was no stranger but himself who had stood beside her, and showed her the certificate to corroborate his statement, saying that the fever must have begun .to affect her Drain even then to Have made her jmaginc anything so absurd. She spoke of Sir Walter's recent efforts to win her consent to a public marriage, while they were 011 their way from Paris lo London, claiming that in this way they could keep their secret ; how he had renewed his suit to-night, and. when she had positively declared that she would never acknowledge any tie between them. never become his wife, he had threatened to publicly proclaim their secret, and even ''e-* sort to the law to gain his point, if necessary. Mr. Seaver listened to all fhis in utter silence, his face becoming very grave and stern as the narrative progressed ; but he began to grow restive and his eyes to blaze when she referred to the interview of thai- evening and -Leightoii's cowardly 1 hreats. "So !" ]-,e exploded, when this finally ceased. •• 1. was right In my first estimate of the '.nan, after all !< lie was a craven —a villain from the word go. and, hang it all, we ve been his guests for more than two weeks ! I wish 1 had known all this before we came lo the Towers, Florence ; you need never have been subjected to such insults, and it must have been humiliating lo you to come here at all." (To be Continued.)