SERIAL STORY

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LII, Issue 331, 5 March 1910, Page 6

SERIAL STORY

A ROYAL WARD.

By PERCY BREBNER. (Published by Special Arrangement.) ~ CHAPTER XII. (continued). Whether, in an inner room, he plunged his head into cold water, Baxter did not explain when Tie came forth, but he was thoroughly awake and ready to hear the story—ready, it would seem, to disbelieve the greater part of it", by his sarcastic questioning; but he began to listen in silence as Dubuisson recounted the adventure. Mary told her part of the story, too. "Bravo!" said Baxter, shaking her by the hand. "What's the name of the fool who lets such a woman as you go so easily?" "That is her secret, and she will not betray the man," said Dubuisson. "I have given my promise not to question her. and that promise must bind you, "Are we not to know where this prison is?" "I will not answer the question," Mary said firmly. "Well, you've earned the right to refuse," said Baxter, "but I think you're making a mistake. Such a husband as yours doesn't seem worth troubling about. I should have thought you'd be glad to hear there was an end o'f him." "I loved him once," she answered; and Baxter looked at her and was silent. _ The American sent out for breakfast, since his scanty larder was not capable of providing for so much sudden company, and again at mid-day food was brought in, since they thought it wiser not to go out together. Their enemies might be keenly on the watch. And Dubuisson discussed his plan, the woman consenting to what he devised for he r comfort and safety. "It's a good plan," said Baxter. "Here's pen and ink, write your letter; and there's my room, Mistress Mary. It's wonderful what a woman's fingers can do to smarten herself, even when they have little to do it with," "And little to work upon," she answered, with a smile. She was very pretty when she smiled. "Your husband's a fool, whatever else he may he besides," Baxter answered, as she went into his room and closed the door. Then he whispered to Du- | huisson, "I have heen wondering where I 7 lmv> caught a glimpse of that face before, for I have seen her somewhere.'' "Think, Baxter; much may depend upon it." "I've been thinking ever since she camp in at the door. She's pretty, very pretty. Put her in frills and furbelows, ! rnd the dandies will all he screwing their heads off in the Mall to turn and look at her. I wonder whether ner busKind knows vet that you've run away with her. You stick to her. You're in Hick. I'll go and call you a coach." "But, Baxter —Baxter, you fool " The American was half-wav down the rickety stairs, and did not ans.ver. Thus it was .that Victor Dubuis'on ■opme to Ladv Bettv's house in Pali Mall, and waited until she was -lis:mgageu - ' | CHAPTER XIII. ! DUBUISSON PAYS A DEBT AND | WONDERS. ! Lsidy Betty was standing oy ihe hearth, her ioot upon the low brass fencer, when Dubuisson entered, and she did not turn until the servant had closed thp door again. Victor's note was in her hand, her eves were bent upon it when she deigned to notice his I presence. I "Frankly, sir, 1 had intended not to | be at home when von called." she said, without looking at him. She did not appear to have mastered the contents j of the letter vet. "ft was, a trivial ! matter, of course, but I forgot to give j the necessary instructions to my ser--1 vants. and, so your note is brought to ' me without question. You speak of a . woman in distress, and I am not averse to helping such a one if it be in my : i power, and if she lip worthy. Please I consider that I see vou on her account.,! not on your own. Will you he seated," , If he were astonished at her recrntion of him, Dubuisson admirably eon- , cealed the fact. It was not given to men to understand women, he had concluded, when, not long since, this' very woman was in his thoughts. The afternoon light was growing dim, only the firelight played in the room, casting . fantastic shadows of the furniture upon -the walla. Betty sat where the light felj frM upon her—as beautiful a picture as a man.could contemplate—and she was not able to call into her face the hardness she managed to give to her words. Victor seated himself in the shadow, and wondered whether it was , only thp flickering firelight which male it appear that she smiled for an instant. "Let me first thank you for receiving me at all. I •" "About the woman, sir," she said quickly, with an impatient little wave of the letter towards him. j "To make you understand, I must. ! unfortunately, speak of myself, hut it | shall be as little as possible; indeed, it' need be very little. Strange circum- \ stances brought this woman and myself .together, and I find she has a scoundrel of a husband, one of a gang of murderers and thieves,"~a man who has illused her shamefully. She has left him." . "In your company?" said Lady Bettv. | "Yes; in rav company. She will tell you more of her sufferings if you will i question her. She is without a home, she has no friends to whom she can go. j and I thought of you. I have no other !

acquaintances to whom I can take her.' She will tell you our> adventures, and i how she came to be in my company." ' "You may speak of yourself to' that' extent; I shall be the better able to question the woman," said Betty. She tried to look hard and unconcerned, but ,she was aching to hear the story. She felt that this man's eyes were upon her, I although she never glanced in his direction. J" : '^«i I would refuse to tell you, hut that my silence might do the woman an in- { justice. She cannot know exactly how i I came to be where she found me," Du- j huisson answered firmly. Perhaps he. understood this woman better than he j supposed. He told his adventure in a | blunt manner, as though he were little . concerned in it. He did not say that he and Evertsen had quarrelled on the night of the Duchess of Petersham's reception, but merely that they had walked together to the corner of St. James' Street, and that immediately afterwards he was seized, forced into a coach, and driven away. He said little of his subsequent struggle with the man who had" attempted to rob him, and, in speaking of the escape, made most of Mary's bravery. "Another woman has, in fact, saved my life," he concluded, "and I am attempting to pay something of my debt to her by bringing Tier to you." "Were you much hurt?" Betty asked, glancing in his direction, but seeing j little more than the outline of his figure ,in the darkness which surrounded him. "It is healing," Dubuisson answered i carelessly; "but the blow was sufficient to hold me unconscious for many hours,! .and I was a helpless prisoner. " This is the reason I could not keep the appointment with which you so graciously favored me. May I send the woman to you ?" He rose, but was still in shadow. Betty rose, too, and summoned a servant. ..I ■•:! ' " "I will see the woman," she said, "and if I find her as worthy as you say she is, I will help her." Then she turned to ' the servant who entered. "Candles, and then show up the young woman who came with this gentleman." « "Thank you," said Dubuisson. 'T have found her a friend and a place of safety, so I beg to take my leave." "Stay, sir; you may as well know for certain that I find her worthy." The candles were lighted, and "Dubuisson was no longer in shadow. Betty saw him distinctly 'for the first time, saw where the savage blow had fallen upon his head, saw that his clothes were torn, and his face drawn and whi.te, "Indeed, you were sorely hurt," she said, with a hasty step towards him. "You made so light of it, I did not understand how serious an adventure yours has been." "I look a piteous object, but I dh.-ed not go to my lodgings until I had placed the woman in safety. You must forgive my coming in this fashion." "You must not go alone to vour lodging, now.".she said. "It would be foolish, criminal. Your enemies are likely to be watching." "I have a friend," Dubuisson answered. "Such enemies a» these are usually cowards " ."Who are these enemies?" asked . Betty. "I do not know." "But the woman does?" "And will not tell," said Dubuisson. "We shall see," said Betty. A wou.derfui change had come over her. and i there was a radiant smile upon her face. It was there when she turned at the sound of the opening door, and Mary, after dropping a curtsey, stood with h»r j eyes fixed upon her. This beautiful. woman, seen in the intimacy of her I home, was ,a revelation to her. Mary had seen great ladies driving in their carriages, had once or twice watched them walking in the' Mall from a distance, but never beforo had she come in close contact 'with one of them before. It was unexpected, too, for she had not supposed the man she had helped to escape was of sufficient importance r.o have sucli a irieno. as this. Lady Betty was keenly interested, too. This woman in her snubby gown was a heroine, a brave woman, who had risked much for this Mr. Dubuisson She was pretty, besides. Betty noted this fact particularly.

"Thisjs Lady Betty Walmisley," said Dubuisson. "I think she will help you." Mary dropped another curtsey. "Come, tell me of the adventure," said Betfy. «Mr. Dubuisson has told me only part." "Until this morning, when I heard his friend call him fry name, I did not know who I was helping,, my lady." "It might have been a less worthy man," said Betty. "Indeed, yes, my lady." "And one who had no such friend as I am to .whom he could bring you. Tell me the whole story; about yourself too." ' Betty sat with her eyes fixed upon the woman; and Dubuisson, seated a little behind them, watched Lady Betty and wondered. Why had she changed so suddenly?" ° "So you dared not stay behind ?" said ?-etty. "Your husband would hava illtreated you?" "He would have killed me." "How came you t« marry such a man J" "Does a woman ever really know a man until she has married him, inv lady?" /'Perhaps not." "I thought I loved him," said Mary, the tears in her e.yes, "and I was happy for—for a few days." "So short a happiness is hardly worth any tears," Betty said, "and no woman would think of regretting a husband like yours. What is your name?" "Mary Rowarth; at least, that was my name before 1 marriea. I came from Norfolk. I will hav e no other name now.'J "But what is your husband's name?" Mary glanced at Dubuisson.

"I know. Mr. Dubuisson has told me that you will not speak of him, but is that right?" asked Betty. "This gentle, man must go m peril while such men as your husband go unpunished." (To be continued in next Wednesday's issue.)