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

Patea Mail, Volume III, Issue 258, 29 September 1877, Page 4

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

fßv Mas. Harriet Lewis.] CHAPTER XXXl.— contd. Old Gretchcm covered her face, with her apron and moaned and sobbed in her despair. Rut Cecil’s feailoss eyes, dusky as night itself, with a golden glimmer in their depths like a yellow star, remained calm and brave and unflinching. Something in that steadfast gaze made the rnllian Jarvis strangely uncomfortable. ♦Something in that pale, calm face, so tender, so sweet, so undismayed, affrighted him. “ You’d better be at your work, Jarvis,” said his wife, catching the infection of his embarrassment and endeavouring to conquer it. “ Now is your time. You’re not going to turn l:iinfchenrled, cli ? ’ Jarvis moved mechanically to the wide hearth and picked up one of the big brass andirons. As lie moved heavily, with tin’s weapon, towards M'ss Rosse, the Portuguese woman hastily interposed. She had been silent for some minutes, but intensely watchful. She was very superstitious, and she had watched the pi ogress’of the scone with gloomy eyes. Now, as Jarvis, with his devilish intent expressed in looks and altitude, moved towards Cecil, (bo Portuguese woman sprang forward and caught his arm, crying out; u tnop ! You shall not kill her tonight! I will not have her killed tonight!” • Ja ivis turned upon his confederate in amazement. “ What do yon mean V he demanded. “Are yon going back on your bargain?” . “ No. I’m with you, heart and soul, and you know it. The gal’s death is as necessary to me as to you. 11 she lives, 1. shall have to stay here in this awful solitude years perhaps, when I yearn for my own country and independence and the marriage on which I’vo sot my heart. I want her to die—” “ Then why do you interfere with mo when I’m about to put her out of the way ? ’ “ Recauso,” said Maria, slowly, “we’ve got to stay here weeks yet. T! e snow lies many feet deep in the mountain passes. We are storm-bound and cannot get away under a month. Yet I will not stop a night hero after they are dead. They’d Ira’nt us, sine as fate. They’d come back to us in the dark nights and frighten ns out of our senses !” “ Coward !” sneered Jarvis.

“ Call roe coward, if you will, but let ’em live until wo arc ready to quit this place,” cried Maria. “Wo can destroy their lives the night before we leave Black Hock. And in the inenntimo we can keep them prisoners in the tower-chambers. They will be quite safe —as safe as if they were already dead.”

The Portuguese woman had aroused the superstitious fears of Mrs Jarvis, who hastilv exclaimed :

“I agree with Maria, Jarvis. Let’s act on her advice. Miss Bosso and Grctcheu are already the same as dead. You can finish ’em off at any time.”

Jarvis was not slow to yield to these combined entreaties. L was one thing to destroy a life secretly, and another to commit a murder in cold blood, with a pair ot reproachful, steadfast, haunting eyes fixed upon him. “ Wo wait,” he said, dropping the andiron heavily to the stone floor. “ There a’n’t no hurry. They can’t escape. They’re as good as dead now, and wo can put the finishing touch whenever we please. There a’n’t a house as 1 knows within fifty miles, and no one ever comes io Black Rock. They’re as safe as if they -was in their graves.”

“ Let ns fake them up fo their rooms,” suggested Mrs Jarvis. “ I can’t aboar the look of them eyes. Light a candle, Maria,”

The Portuguese woman obeyed. Jarvis demanded the key and unlocked the door leading into the hall. Then soiz'ug Miss Posse by the arm in a fierce grip, he hurried her out into the narrow stone passage. Old Gretehcn followed. She would have follow-d her young mistress to death rather than survive her. Mrs Jarvis and Maria brought up the ioar, the latter bearing the light. The little procession wound through the long, dark, draughty halls. The gusts ol wind more than once nearly extinguished the light. 'Little piles of snow lay near the doorways, having whirled in under the doors, and lay on the stone stairs, having filtered in at the leaks and crevices in the old roof. A long wail or shriek of the storm, as it tore down the cavernous chimneys now and then, made Maria cross heiself instinctively, with unconscious recollection of religious forms in which she had been reared, and mutter a prayer to bo saved from wandering ghosts.

They mounted the second flight of stair, which .was rickety and seemed to rock in the storm, and arrived at the third-story rooms of the quaint old tower.

Jarvis kicked open tko door of tlio tapesti y-room with one of his loot, and thrust in his prisoner. Grel.oheu sprang a,Tier liei’, with a cry of mingled misery and relic!'. And the three savage-looking jailers halted upon tl.e threshold, surveying them with cruel exultation.

“ You can have these two rooms as before, Miss,” said Jarvis. “ Only we’ll keep the keys. Jest remember as you’re a prisoner ami conduct yourself accordingly. .If you a (.tempt to signal any boa t as may pass up or down the coast, but which is most unlikely at this ,season, with the March storms a rag’tig, that signal ’ll he the signal for your death ! Understand that! I an’t a patient man. I won’t stand no nonsense!”

lie withdrew the key to the outer side of the lock and abruptly closed the door and secured it. The operation was repeated upon the door of the second room and the three conspirators descended the stairs heavily, retreating to their own quarters in the lower part of the house, there to discuss the events of the evening and to plan their intended double nime.

As the sound of their hunbe.ing footsteps died away upon the stone stairs, Cecil Rosso eros.nl the floor lo one of the windows, pulled aside the (hick damask curtains end looked out again iuio the night, with its white, whaling gloom, its howling winds, and the roar of its angry, furious sea. Old Gretchcn looked aboutherdrearily, at the little sappci-(able, the low chair bol’oic the hearth, and the big hearty fire of 11 izing logs.

“ How everything is changed <’u ing ihe last hour !” the old peasant woman cxcLivnod, with a groan. “ Here’s the table and supper, just as wo left it—it is wc who are, changed ! Oh, Miss Cecil, ,1 could almost think we’d been dreaming ! Why should any one wish to kill yon, wlio.se whole life has been a blessing to others ? You were the light and glory of the Herr Pastors life: the villagers of Zorlitz almost worshipped you for your care and kindness to them in sorrow and sickness : you are good and lovely—why should any one harm you ? Ydlio could wish to kill you ?”

Cecil turned her face towards her old servant. • There were, bistre shadows under the lovely dusky eyes, a strange pallor upon the young checks and about the tender inouih, but the expression upon (be beautiful countenance was brave, undismayed, and deeply thoughtful.

Gretchcn,” said the girl, quietly, “ I believe that there has been some mistake made in rny identity—that I have been brought hero in mistake lor some oilier poor uufortunate—•or that this {lot against my life is a part of the mystery that lias enshrouded my origin and surrounded me from the night when I, a child of three years, a mere baby, was brought to Zorlili: parsonage.” Gretclion stared.

“ There lias boon no mistake, Miss Cecil,” she exclaimed, excitedly, after a brief thoughtfulness. “ Did you not hoar them say so—that they had been hired to destroy Miss Cecil Rosso, of Germany ?”

I think that there has been no mistake,” declared Cecil, calmy. 11 The pors'on who had mo immured in this solitary place, in this wild northern climate, remote from all mankind, had knowledge of me personally and of my tastes and capabilities. That person knew of my bargain with Lady Trevor, and bad prepared for mo this motheaten tapestry on which I have spent so many months of useless toil. It is clear, therefore, that ray enemy is one who is connected with the mystery of my lile.” “ But who can it be ?”

“ You could identify the man who brought mo to Zorlitz parsonage, Grctcheu ?” 1 could swear to him anywhere by the squint in his eyes, and the heavy mole on his left cheek, and by bis general features,” affirmed Gretehen.

‘‘ Have yon seen any person who resembled him since wo came to England ? Was Mr Pnlford like him ?”

“ Ho, Miss Cecil. I have never seen his cruel face since that night. Mr Pnlford is unlike him as any one man can he unlike another.

“ Lady Trevor cannot hate me,” said Cecil, wearily and sorrowfully. “ Lord Glonhsnn loves her. Even if she knew that he had been kind to mo and won my heart, she could not possib'y care, since she holds his troth. He must love her or he would not marry her. She camiofc bo my enemy. She is a lady, gently-bred, refined and high-principled, a la no Christian lady, I believe, else Lord Gleuham could not love her. lam sure that she is innocent of ary knowledge of this horrible plot against me.” “ I am sure of that too. She was very kind to us,” said simple old Gretchen. “ A bad, wicked woman could not "smile and talk so kindly and sweetly as she did. Depend upon it, Miss Cecil, Lady Trever is innocent of all wrong-doing in this matter.”

• “ Then whom shall I suspect ? Mr Pal lord ?”

Grotchen shook tier head. She preferred to think Miss Eosse’s enemy some unknown person rather than one who had seemed kind to her.

<£ Depend upon it, Miss Cecil,” she exclaimed, “your enemy is the man who brought you to Zorlitz. Ho watched

you go to Lady Trevor’s house, and watched your drive to the yacht. And after Mr Puiford had given his directions to the captain of the yacht, this unknown enemy of yours secretly conspired with the captain, and had you brought to this place. lam sure that this is the true explanation of the mystery.” “It may be so,” replied the youngmistress. “I do not know enough of Uic ways of wicked people to suggest a better explanation. Wo are in the hands of some erne) avid remorseless fore, of whom these people below are but the tools to carry out their master’s will. My enemy seeks your death as well as mine. Whore are we, Giclchcn, do you think? Where is this Rlack Hock?” Put Gretchcm could not velum an answer that appeared to border on probability. “ IVo arc many days’ sail from London,” said Cecil. “ The story that we had been driven from our course by bad weather was but a false pretence of the treacherous captain. The bleak, wild scenery, the driving storms, deep snoivs, and utier dreamless and coldness, show that we arc in the far north, but whether in Norway, or Iceland, or Scotland, 1 cannot tell. One thing only 1 know—” “ And that is—” “ That we must make some effort to escape ! To remain here imprisoned, counting the days and nights of the single month of life these people allow ns, will drive ns mad. I’d rather fall from yonder precipice out there in the darkness, or freeze to death in the mountain passes, than await here our coming doom !” “ And so would T. Lilt how can wo escape ? Wo shall be closely watched and guarded. Our enemies may drug us into quiet passiveuoss. And though they decided to lot us live a mouth longer, they may change (heir minds and kill ns to-morrow. They will aim to destroy ns when we-are ofl our guard. Oh, Miss Cecil,” cried the old woman, despairingly, “ there is no escape for us ! We are doomed !” ] TO BE CONTINUED. J