SERIAL STORY

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LII, Issue 319, 19 February 1910, Page 6

SERIAL STORY

A ROYAL WARD. By PKPX'Y BREBXEII. I (Published by Special Arrangement.) | CHAPTER IX. (continued). | Victor Dubuisson told her of his j iournev to London, of what had hapi iiened *to him at the Brazen Serpent nis interview with the American, and I his subsequent introduction to Walter I Evcrtseu. 1 '-Since then Mr. Evertsen has been ! very courteous to me. He has taken I me "to the clubs, he has T.rougbt me in ' contact with many notable men, I have j been to Carlton House with him and i bowed to the Prince, and he has brought me here to-night, and i have been able to tell you this story. He has been a very good friend." "And what end has he in view, do you suppose?" - ' '-Why should his kindness not he disinterested V" asked Dubuisson. "We wet into the habit of summing j up the characters' of those we meet, and i Mr. Evertsen does not impress me as a I man who would take much trouble unless he expected the gain to be proportionate." -I think you wrong Mm," said Dubuisson. "He hides much good under a frivolous exterior. I am convinced of that. I think a woman might trust him." Dubuisson was sincere, lor the better side of Evertseivs character had im- ! pressed him on more than one occasion. A little smile flickered in Lady Betty's eyes. "You trust him, then?" "Yes," but there was a little hesitancy in the answer. "Ah, with limitations. What is good enough for a woman is not quite so satisfactory to you. I think 1 understand. You are rather a transparent person, Mr. Dubuisson." "With ' many disadvantages, there might be some advantage in that," he answered, turning suddenly towards her. "•- >*»-■ ■■■^\\tl*< i .*®-iy "It was Sir Rupert Ashton who described you as coming from the country, you say?" Lady Betty went on quickly, as though she found some danger in the turn of the conversation, and would turn it in another direction. "Yes; and I did not contradict him, because it seemed that Walter Evertsen might be useful to me. Why should 1 tell him that I was the man he had hunted the countryside for?" I suppose each man lias hib own standard of honor," said Lady Betty reflectively. "You seem to accuse me." "Have not my actions given me a heavy a'take in your honor!" "So heavy that had I! intended dishonesty I should have turned honorable," said Dubuisson. "I came to London to seek one man, I find myself entangled in a web of deceit. The purpose olf it I do not understand. I am» fighting deceit with deceit, that is all." ) "Have you found the man you seek?" "Not yet." "And when you do?" i "I shall ask him to absolve me from j I an oath made by my father, but which ' binds me also. That accomplished, I J shall go back to France to play my part > in ' her life. Surely that I venture on this quest at all proves that I hold my j honor dearly!" I "I know too little to judge," said i Betty. "But supposing this man refuses to absolve you. from your oath, | would you become revengeful?' The question loreioly recalled to Dubuissori's mind Kinley Baxter's' sugges- ! j tion lliat • revenge might be the real I meaning of th.« broken, silver cross; he i remembered also what "Hyde Had said, '•of Lady .Betty. i "Trouble is an enemy that one should S never go out to seek," he said slowly, j "I hope you will have success," Betty I returned, rising from her chair. "You see, I am trusting you, as T promised." ) "I should lifCe to te;i you all my story, ; but not now. It would detain you too ', long. I think you ought to know it, because new possibilities have come into it since I came to London. Besides, it has been suggested to me that you might help me." "By whom?" "By one calling himself Captain Hyde. I know no more of him." | "And I know nothing of. him sit all," I Bety answered. | "Will you give me the opportunity I of telling you the whole story?" perI sisted Dubuis'son. | "Truly I think I ought to know it, since I have staked so much upon it. To-morrow at three I shall be at home 1 at my house in Pall Mall." "Thank you; i will come. My quest means much to me, but, if I fail, there will still be the consolation that I have met Lady Betty Walmisley and found her so gracious." "Indeed, sir, you are improving. I spoke too hastily when I Said you were behind the fashion." "They are not mere wo-ds," said Dubuisson; and for a moment they looked into each other's eyes. Twice before they had found eloquence therein. "I am not sure, but I think—yes, I think I am glad," said Betty. Perliaps the color that had risen to her cheeks was ft'till glowing as she reentered the great reception-room with Dubuisson. Evertsen saw them enter, saw something in her beauty that was new to him, and glanced at the man '. beside her to see if he offered any solu- ;

tion of the wonderful change in the woman. Evertsen had been seeking her for some time, lie knew, who could know better, that her favors were not easily given; yet surely this 'iello.v Dubuisson had monopolised her, and her radiance would seem to prove that she was interested in him. Dubuisson, with a low bow, moved away from her, but it was in vain that Evertsen attempted to take his place. Lady Betty became the centre of admirers, men and for she charmed them both, and, without any intention of doing so, she practically ignored Everts'en. It was natu..-»l, perhaps, that his anger should be turned against the man. and he went in search of Dubuisson, whom lie found just leaving the house, and they went out into Piccadilly together. About the house there was a throng oif coaches, servants, and lacqueys, and the two men did not speak until they" were clear of this crowd.

"Tou found Lady Betty Walmisley to your taste, Mr. Dubuisson?" "Yes," was the rather surprised answer. "The manner of the question was rather offensive.

"Of course, you are hardly yet familiar with the proper behaviour of a gentleman, hut let me assure you that your conduct to-night has offended me." "I am sorry. Will you explain in what particular?" "I hardly think that quite uecess'ary; yet, indirectly, I may answer it by telling you that Lady Betty Wfthnisley is not 'for every man who desires her company."

'Truly, I should quarrel with any man who suggested such a thing/' Dubuisson answered.

"And, further, I thought I had made it clear to you during the course of our acquaintance what were my intentions with regard to the lady." "Certainly; and I should imagine you are only one of a large number with similar intentions'. Upon my word, Mr. Evertsen, I fail to find any ground of quarrel between us. You made me known to Lady Betty, and on that account, I imagine, she was pleased to show me some attention. Indeed, I have to thank you."

"You will forgive my direct speaking, but it is, perhaps, necessary," Evertsen returned. "Lady Betty's [future is practically arranged for; you have my authority for saying s'o to any one of that large number you seem to know about. Of course, I accept you apology." "Apology! For what? I have offered none." * "

"Then perhaps I had better warn you that Lady Betty's honor is in my keeping, and that I brook no interference," and without another word he turned into St. James's Street, the corner of which they had just reached.

Evertsen had quickened his pace and got some little distance before Dubuisson had recovered from his astonishment. The idea that he had apologised for a fault that he had not committed, apologised as though he were afraid of his compnaion's uncalled-for bluster, sent angry blood rushing through his veins. He had made a step to follow him, when a heavy family coach stopped close to him, and two men, crossing the roadway just behind it, stumbled against him. He drew back from them, not desiring to take part in some drunken quarrel, and stepped nearer to the coach. "Ah, Dubuisson!" said a voice from within it, and he turned,, expecting to greet some acquaintance, perhaps someone who was returning from the Duchess of Peters'ham's. The next instant a cloak was thrown about his head, strong arms clasped him round ttte body, and he was lifted off his feek Then the door closed sharply, he was pressed down upon his knees, and realised that he was in the coach and being driven rapidly away. CHAPTER X. i THE PRISONER. For a few moments Dubulsvon struggled to rise from the floor of the coach, but at least three men were pressing down upon him, while the cloaks, round his head impeded his efforts, and was held so tightly that any cry for help would have been futile j so he gave up the unequal fight* and resolved to await events. No one spoke; beyond the voice which had called him from the coach, not a word had been uttered, nor did Dubuisson ask any questions. Forced down on his hands and knees amongst the loose straw which covered the floor and firmly held there, lie felt convinced that no questions he asked would be answered. The conviction made him speculate. Perhaps the men were silent because they knew that their victim would recognise who they were if they spoke, lit was "not usual for men engaged in suoh work to abstain from some bullying bluster, or, at least, from oaths. Dubuis'son tried to recall the tone of the voice which had hailed him from the coach, half believed that it ■was familiar to him, yet wholly unable to connect it with any man he knew; and, naturally, his speculations did not stop here. .Had his quarrel with Evertsen occurred earlier in the evening, had there been time for him to arrange tin's piece of treachery, Dubuisson might have suspected him. By his outburst to-night Evertsen had clearly shown that he was' quick to take offence, finding it, indeed, where none was, and would be unlikely to let anything stand in the way of his desires. Where a woman was concerned, his friendship would probably prove a one-sided affair. As it was, such a solution to Hie mystery was out of the question. That he had been seized directly Everts'en had left him could only be a coincidence, yetf, whoever Ihis captors were, they i

must surely have known of his presence at Petersham House, and waited patiently for him. The search in his lodgings had failed; no doubt this was another attempt to gain possession of that which they had failed to lind there. They would make a determined etl'ort this time, and, as far as he could, Dubuisson relaxed his muscles, bent on making a desperate light iov h when the moment came. The heavy family coach rumbled on, but not so rapidly now. It would seem that all need for haste had gone; that the prisoner could be disposed of at leisure. The drive was, perhaps, being purposely extended, so that Dubuisson might' be the more confused as to the direction taken. An extra twist suddenly tightened the cloak around his head, so that he coughed and was almost sulfonated. A sharp blow between the shoulders seemed to numb him and mulct every muscle in his body limp and tiaccid; no i strength was left In him. He was only conscious that the carriage had stopped, and that he was tjeing carried almost 1 like a dead weight. He had no power of '. resistance, and could not inter a sound. The men's footsteps were on stones at first, slipping a little on the rounaed ' cobbles with the weight of their burden, 1 then on wood, sounding hollow, and 1 more numerous. A crowd seemed to be I about Irim, and the way was narrow ' and with a sharp turn or two in it, for 1 the bearers swayed from side to side as 1 though constantly coming in contact I with a wall. Still not a word was ■ spoken, not even a whispered direction or command. He was being carried head ' foremost, and Dubuisson suddenly felt ' his head pitch downwards, heard the feet shuffle uncertainly as they descended steps, then a door was closed quietly, I and he found himself upon his feet, .pressed back against a wall. Dubuisson had not lost consciousness [for a moment, only his strength had ' gone from him, and now this was gradu- ' ally returning. The effects of the blow were temporary and were pas'sing. If he were granted only a few minutes' respite, he might yet make a good fight |of it. held each of his wrists, and a heavy hand was upon his chest, pressing him to the wall. The cloak ,was still about his head, but not so ! tightly twisted. "Whatever they wanted | with him, it was evident they had no • desire that he should die of suffocation. 'No one spoke, no one moved, even; the only sound was the rapid breathing of ! the men beside him. Whether they were i in light or in darkness. Dubuisson could not tell, for the cloak was thick. "His strength was coming back fast, it was almost normal again, yet he made no movement to release hiras'elf: he strove to appear as limp and helpless as when they set him upon his feet. He waited, ready to take them by surprise at a I moment when they were least prepared for resistance. (To be continued in next Wednesday's issue.)