Lady Trebor's Secret, OR THE MYSTERY OF CECIL ROSSE.

Patea Mail, Volume III, Issue 231, 27 June 1877, Page 4

Lady Trebor's Secret, OR THE MYSTERY OF CECIL ROSSE.

fßv Mas. Harriet Lewis.]

CHAPTER XV. RESCUER AND RESCUED. Cecil’s impetuous approach—her wild shriek sharply cutting the night air, and even more loudly echoed by the terrified Gretchcn—was the signal for the flight of the wenld-be robbers. They paused for a single instant, as if uncertain whether to attack Cecil and her follower, and then, hearing a policeman’s rattle in Regent-street, and the sound of hurrying feet, they gave utterance to a ■wild curse, and took to their heels, vanishing in the direction whence they had come. Cecil flew to the side of their intended victim, all pity and horror. He was making an effort to lise. Bhe assisted him with all her slender strength, and ho arose unsteadily to his feet, leaning heavily upon her. Are you faint, sir ?” she asked. “ What shall I do ?” The gentleman put his hand to his throat, which suffered from the strangling grip of his assailants. For the moment ho could not speak. Before he could command his voice a policeman appeared upon the scene, demanding roughly the cause of the “ row.” “ I shall take you all into custody,” he exclaimed, preparing to flash the light of his bull’s-eye lantern upon the group, “ a kicking up such a scrimmage as this ’ere in the public ’ighway—” “ Stop! ” said the gentleman, haughtily, his voice so stern and authoritative as to owe the “ custodian of the law.” “If you had been on duty, where you ought to have been, this thing would not happened. I owe my life to this young lady—and not to you I” The light of the bull’s-eye flashed upon the little group. In the glare Cecil beheld the gentleman to whose assistance she had so timely come. He was tall and commanding, with heavy white eyebrows and white mustache, and with the air of an old French military officer. His frosty bine eyes were flashing like drawn swords; his face bristled with indignation at the attempt upon his life and purse, and the policeman quailed before him as if he, the officer, had been the assailant.

“ A pretty state of affairs,” growled the gentleman, “when a man cannot walk in Loudon streets after nightfall without fear of losing his life. Pretty guardians, these,” and he sneered at the policeman, “ of life and property.” “If you please, sir,” said the officer, u these ’ere robberies an’t at all frequent, Now and then they ’appens, and the garroters get penal servitude, and the cat besides, A personal assault is al’ays punished with the cat.” “ Small comfort to the garroted person. There’s my card, fellow, and now be off.”

The policeman took the card, and read aloud:

“ The Markiss of St. Leonards, Beg parding, ray hid, for my rudeness,” and he bowed, servilely. “ I wish I could find the fellow as attempted to rob your ludship. If you will describe ’em, my lud, I’ll have London scoured for them—”

“ I can’t describe them,” said Lord St. Leonards, impatiently. “ I was coming along this street—it’s dark, you see—and I heard two men following me. I slackened my pace to let them pass, and they sprung upon me like a pair of tigers. I struggled with them and made my escape. They overtook mo, clutched me by the throat, and threw me down. But for the heroism of this young lady, who came running towards me and calling for help, I shudder to think what might have resulted.” The policeman hastened to pick up Lord St. Leonard’s hat, which* he restored. The marquis held it in his hand while he fixed his regards upon Cecil, who stood, pale and trembling, beside him.

He started at sight of her splendid young beauty, her rare, exquisite loveliness, the glory of her starry eyes, her air of perfect high-breeding. He thought in his heart that he had never looked upon so radiant a vision, and the admiration he felt found expresssion in his prolonged and wrapt gaze. Presently, recollecting himself, the marquis motioned the poliaeman to move on. Then he himself walked towards the nearest gas-lamp in company with Cecil and old Gretchcn.

“ May I not know to whom I am indebted for such timely rescue ?” he asked, in a tone so respectful and deferential that even old Gretchen, who was inclined to be suspicious, was satisfied that he was the grand nobleman he looked, and quite incapable of injuring her darling. “My name,” replied Cecil, with a girlish dignity that well became her, “is Miss Rosse. I am very glad to have been of servjce to you, sin”

Lord St. Leonards heard the name without experiencing the - slightest suspicion of the identity of its owner. The name of Rosse is too common to excite attention or comment, and it never occurred to him that this young lady might spell her. name differently. The Cecil Rosse of Lord Glenham’s love he supposed to-be at Zorlitz in the house of the pastor. The suspicion that this radiant vision, this high-bred-

girl with the lovely face and pure, swe-t eyes might be the lady of Glenham’s love, was a wild flight of the imagination of which he was incapable. If only some instinct might have warned him of the truth! If only he could have guessed the identity of his young rescuer, how many days of bitterness and nights of anguish might have been averted I

“ I am very grateful to you, Miss Ilosse,” he said, warmly. “ I do not doubt but that 1 owe my file to you, for those desperate radians had determined to silence me. Will you permit me to escort you to your home ?” “ 1 thank you, my lord but I am well attended,” replied Cecil, courteously. “ And there, comes our omnibus. I must wish you good-evening, with the hope that no serious consequences will follow the attack of your assailants.” Lord St. Leonards felt a strange, keen, vivid interest in Cecil, and experienced a singular reluctance to lose sight of her. Somehow, the gaze of those red-brown eyes thrilled his soul with a pleasure that was half pain. “ The hour is late,” ho said, “ too late for a young girl like you to be out even with a woman-servant. I beg you to allow me to attend you to your home, Miss Rosso, lam old enough to be your grandfather,” and he smiled. “ You will not refuse me—”

Cecil had signalled the omnibus

“ I fear 1 must, my lord,” she replied, in her clear, sweet tones. “ I do not require further attendance. Again —good night 1 ” She bowed, and, closely followed by Gretehen, climbed into the vehicle, which rolled away, vanishing into the gloom. The old marquis watched it out of sight, and stood for a long time afterward staring in the direction in which it had disappeared. There was a strange wistfulacss in the expression of his stern and haughty face, a singular warmth in his usually frostyblue eyes, a peculiar sadness and longing expressed in his closely-shut mouth.

“ The most beautiful girl I ever saw in my life I ” he thought. “ Her eyes looked straight into my soul. My heart warmed and thrilled under her glances as it has not warmed for many years. By heaven, if she wore but poor, and an orphan, I'd give all I have to dispose of to adopt her legally as my daughter ! But 1 suppose that she is the petted darling of some noble house. That air ot exquisite highbreeding, and that patrician beauty, indicates gentle blood. And she had a servant with her. It is odd they had no carriage, that they travelled by omnibus. 1 wish I had thought sooner to hail a cab and follow them. I wish 1 had asked her address. What a dolt I have been. I shall never see her again—never I How covild I have let her go without one clew to her home and circumstances ?”

He shook himself impatiently, and moved on into Piccadilly, proceeding toward his own house in Park Lane, with a deep sense of annoyance and discontent at Ids own oversight in allowing Cecil to thus pass beyond his knowledge. The girl returned with her old servant to Queen’s Crescent, Bayswater, in silence. She made no allusion to the evening’s adventure until they were again in her little sitting-room. There was a low fire in the grate, and Gretehen augmented it by piling on more fuel. Cecil removed her wraps and sat down before the hearth with her feet on the fender, while the old servant placed the little tea-ketile on the hob.

“ We’ll have a cup of tea, liebchen,” she said, producing a loaf of bread from a tiny corner cupboard, “ and a slice of toast. You’ve been quite overcome with to-night’s adventure. I can see it, even if you don’t say anything.”

“ Gi'etchen,” said Cecil, softly, her eyes glowing, her maimer absent and dreamy, “ did you ever sec a nobler, grander face than that of this English lord, the Marquis of St. Leonards ? ” “Never—never,” responded Gretchen, cutting a slice from the loaf and thrusting a fork into it. “ He is a great man, this marquis ! ” “ Yes,” said Cecil, sighing, “ but his face, his eyes, they haunt me, Gretchen. I almost wish I had allowed him to come home with me. Something in his gaze and his tones went to my heart. I suppose, if he knew the truth that I am a foundling, and have no right to the name of Rosse, he would despise me. These English nobles are so proud !” “ It is best that the marquis should know no more about you than he knows now,” said Gretchen, toasting her bread and burning her face at the same time. “ No one ought to blame you for the faults of your parents, Miss Cecil, but they do and they always will. The only thing for you to do is to hide your history—” “ Or avoid acquaintances,” interrupted Cecil, proudly. “ I shall do that in any case, Gretchen. I am not the equal of these people, and I cannot feel myself to be inferior to any one, however well-born that one may be.” , “You’re terribly proud, liebchen. But it is well you did not allow the marquis to come home with you. You rendered him a service: he thanked you. There the thing should naturally end. Why should he come home with you ? He cannot be your friend. You do not need a patron.” “ You are right, Gretchen,” said Cecil, mere cheerfully. “ The bread

is toasted and the tea is made. How cosy it is here. After all, we have a groat deal to be thankful for.”

The bid servant wheeled a small table beside her young mistress, and the little supper was served and eaten with a relish. Afterward, while Gretchcn sipped her own tea, Cecil produced her drawing materials and set to work upon a new design, to be copied in raised embroidery upon a lady’s opera cloak. This design was to be far more elaborate than the work just finished, and was to be paid for at the most liberal rates. fTO BE CONTINUED.]