CHAPTER XLIII

Te Aroha News, Volume IV, Issue 191, 12 February 1887, Page 6

CHAPTER XLIII

*' A HORRIBLE VOLCANO OV JEALOUS R«:r " Lord Leigh could hardly have told why ho had summoned Adam to go with him on that terrible night journey. He scarcely could have told why he went at all. Why not let the men drag the Pool for Wilcox-a half-witted tenant—and iind what they would find — and await whatever fate would bring? But in spite of hia deeplyfallen nature there were remnants of good blood and a certain lion-liko spirit In Norman Leigh. He would not be taken in a trap, nor cowering in hiding ; if he must be met by some horrible accusation he would go half-v. ray to the meeting himself, and stand bolaly up to face whatever should como. If there were Tfuinous revelations, he would meet them ; if deadly suspicions pointed at him, he would defend himself. Indeed, after the first shock, there was almost a sense of relief in having this haunting secret brought to the light of day. Still he could not go alone, to what he might meet at the Towers—one heart was he knew true and faithful, one face vrould still turn faithfully to him —that of old Adam Moreland. So, in a longing for companionship and fealty, Lord Leigh took with him that humble friend. It was grey morning when they arrived at the Towers, and roused the slumbering household. ~ "There was no need to have you come, my lord," said the steward. "It wa3 only a matter of dragging the Pool, and I thought you should know, lou are particular as to such things. Wilcox disappeared, and his mother will have it he's drowned in the Pool." *' I will go and superintend it,'' said Lord Leigh, coldly. " I have always from a boy had a strange fancy for knowing what; is in the bottom of the Pool." The dew was still drenching the tender young leaves and the great pale, fragrant blo^m of the primroses, when tuo party from the Towers went to see the draggiug of the Black Pool. There waa one little level space of turf near the water, beeide the Earl's Folly, and the coroner's man eaia ; " We'll lay the body here, when we set it." There Norman Loigh planted hiai-elf, where the body would be laid at his teet. But whose body and what a sight would it bo for him ? Back and forth, over the Pool, rowed the boats, dragging this way and that, until the fun was high. " There's naught here, sir, 1' shouted the men. " There must be some deep, unsoundable holo that the drags do not reach," said Lord Ls'gh to the coroner's man. " I don't see why we should think a body is there at all," said the man. "It id only Widow Wilcox's whim, eir". "No body in there?' said Lord Leigh, Blowly. "None?" "Quite sure there's none, my lord." " Did you think there was a body in there, maßter?" cried old Adam, pressing forward. "I think? No, certainly not,"said LeJgb, and fell forward seoselo^s. They carried him into the Earl =i Folly and laid him on the couch. Then as Adam loosened his lord's clothing he found a revolver, all barrels loaded ready to hies hand. The old man looked at it a little, then hurkd it through the window far out into the Pool. It was l?ter in the day when Leigh a-ked for " what had been in his breast." "It is under the water, mastet Whac did you carry it for? To do the last wickedest thing a man may ?" | "No doubt it is what it will come to Uut never mind that now, Adam. I feel bettor. Let us get to London. It all ' nonsenpe to como up here." A load was off Leigh's heart. The Pool "had no tales to tell, no dead man, uo dangerous papers. The man h^.d ctisap peared as strangely as he came. If Helen Hops would also disappear, Lord Leigh would be at peace. But the very day he returned to London, Violet, calling at the house of her Aunt Ainelie, met the younger girls going out with a new governess —a treasure, Mrs Ainelie said. That goveruess wa3 —Helen Hopa ! & 1 # T. * T* -k Lady Burton gave her ball —they called it the E.oee Ball, long after, from the wonderful profusion of those queecly lioweT? wich which the entire housa v.ia graced. At the centra of the reception-room, to ieceive the guests, Edna Haviland =>tood beeide Lady Burton. The girl wag silenr, majactic, snowy, under the chandeii^r, ana at the very first glimpse struck oue breatLileB3 by her beauty. "She ia as one of the ancient godde^es -come down to men !" whispered the Maiquis of Alworth to Violet, near whom he stood. "She ia the Louvre Venus in soft, reHponsive flesh and blood ; the pure Dia:::, stayed in some moonlight etill'iets. Oh, bountiful—oh, beautiful calm '"' '* You are poetic," laughed Violet. Someway, the praises of tha tiifl'-quis filled her with delight. "She is fit theme for poetry." repHed the marquis. "Others fsel it, lam hore. Look at Keith; do not hid eye. j speak a poem as they rest on her ?" Vioiet knew *he ought to rejoice if that ■were so ; but alas and alas ! she could not. Poor child ! But it was not at the balls that Edna Haviland shone most serenely ; it waa ht Lady Burton's musical eoiree. Music was a passion both with Lady Burton and her eon. The guests they invited at that fortunate occasion just filled the receptionrooms. The white silk portiers, with their original borders, were loooed back, all the inside doors being removed, and drawingroom", music room, and conservatory were thrown into one. The rooms were trimmed in similax, passionflowers, and white mioterie. An air of delicate refinement, of loftiest culture, pervaded the whole gather ing. But the intense delight of the hour came when, after choice professional talent bad been in requisition, Edna Haviland took her place beside the piano to siog. Signor Batti, the pianist, bad played once With her, and he touched the keys softly and reverently, as if he dreaded to interfere with the least tone of that noble contralto voice. Edna stood right royally by the ia--Bfcrumenfc ; she sang as a bird sing?, without effort, or thought of effect, or of self, rapt in her music into realms of sublime delight, where she carried those who heard her. Violet listened entranced. Oh, what did not euch a matchless creature deserve ? -Surely, she waa worthy of the love of Kenneth. And how happy she would make him ! How he listened, entranced, to her Apng ! Yes, yes; she must tear this foolish, selfish shrinking from her heart, and wUh j ti^eee. two to be crowned with God's beet Weeing-mutual love.

And what felt and thought Norman Leigh, as ho sat beaide this dainty little countess in pink crepe, with her pearly shoulders, her changeful cheeke, her rings of silken brown hair, and her wreaths t»f rosy crepe myrtle? Lifctledid he dream of her hidden pain, her depths of woe, her goodly heights of self-abegnation. Bnfc he knew in himself the horrible volcano or rage and jealous agony, of rebuffed love, of deadly hate for every man on whom Edna's heavenly oyes looked with allowance. While he in cruel destiny waited helpless, who would carry off his prize, which he had once— rejected ? He curbed himself a thousand times. " Your friend Miss flaviland ia making a great thing of her first season," he paid, savagely, to Violet next day at breakfast. " All the men are mad over her. Al worth seems to have serious intentions, and I believe Lady Burton ia beno on her for Lord Keith." "I think she would like the match, and doe 3 further it." " And you think she will take one of the two ?" demanded Leigh. " Yes, no doubt," said Violet : then she crucified her own rebel spirit, and added : ' And as she lives at Lady Burton's 1 think Lord Keith must be quite sure to win her " It was a death-knell to Leigh. It seemed to drive him mad. S'iokt had not only her own hidden pain to i>enr now, but the vagaries, the savage woids, the scowling looks of her husband. There was no one to whom she could speak. How did she sometimes lock herself alone in her boudoir, and fling herself on her face on her couch, and cry : " Oh, why must I live for misery ? What have I done to be scorned, and hated, and taunted ? He tears my heart from me— he racds it into fragments and tramples the n under his feet ; and yet I cannot die !" If she had had a mother's bosom whereon to weep he woes ; if she had children to cheer her by their innocent caresses, and create for her a future, that she might find her own vanished happiness in making them happy, and a new sunshine beaming on her in their love, she might have been stronger to bear up against her porrows. But in silence, alone, her agony uususpected, no one knowing the cruel looks and words, the icy coldness, all rho fatal bitterness of her heart, Violet, Countess of Leigh, moved on to meet the crieia of her fate.