THE STUDENT'S SECRET.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXX, Issue 8453, 1 June 1907, Page 2

THE STUDENT'S SECRET.

CHAPTER Vlll.—Continued. "Mr Charteris," replied the companion," it is highly probable that no one knows anything about Miss Jastrum but yourself. I refrain tonight from saying what I think of yon, or of the whole affair." "I assure you," said Max, with a shiver, "that; I did not write the note, and that I am absolutely ignor--1 ant of where: Rosalie has gone." "Fo.tunatdy," said Misa Dyke, stiffly, "when such a mysterious disappearance as this occurs, the law is not satisfied with the mere assertions of those who are probably accountable. It is time, Mr Charteris, to say good-night." Max bowed in silence and went like a sleepwalker, out of the room, down the stairs and into the street. CHAPTER IX. THE FATAL SHOT. Max Charteris had one consolation in his dilemma. It was possible, at least, that Rosalie had had communication with her father. Indeed, nothing was more likely, considering Jastrum'a relations with Serpolette. The young man firmly believed that the forged note was Rosalie's own device for the purpose of misleading Miss Dyke, and, after sleeping upon the mystery, he had scarcely a doubt that Rosalie would be found at the late residence of Julian Grey. It seemed now more likely than ever that she might be as eager as himself to annul the secret bond they had bo hastily assumed. He would not allow himself to dwell upon the suspicious situation in which he should be placed if Rosalie had, in fact, disappeared, and he could not but feel how opportune his father's departure for the West had proved. Mr Charteris had commissioned him to look after Sybil Grey during his absence; and this commission gave him a pretext for ascertaining at once if Rosalie were with her father.

At as early an hour as etiquette permitted, he presented himself and enquired for Miss Grey. The servant said Miss Grey was unable to receive anybody. Mux left his card and the message that he should call the next morning, and hoped ;she would then grant him an interview. On repeating his call, however he met with no better success. He ventured to ask: ".Are Mr Jastrum and his family quite well?" "Quite well," was the scarcely civil reply, and the door-was closed. JJ "I don't like the looks of things at all," wa3 the young man's reflection. "I fear some mischief is brewing." It is curious how an unpleasant experience often develops the latent manhood or womanhood. Max Charteris who had never known a graver care than the training of his silky moustache and luxuriant locks, nor a more serious decision than as to how he should dispose of an idle evening, woke suddenly to a sense of duty. He realized the fearful blunder he had made, and the responsibilities he had assumed; and he knew that he must look them in the face cost what it would. He determined to at once' gain access to, Sybil Grey's presence and thus ascertain whether anything was known of Rosalie in her father's house. That she was there he hardly permitted himself to doubt. He even attributed Sybil's refusal to receive him to Rosalie's possible explanation of his relation to her. He rang ine bell on the la st occasion fully prepared to effect an entrance. Without making any inquiry, therefore, of the servant at the doorway, he promptly, as the door opened, stepped into the hall. "If Miss Grey is still unable to see me, I will speak with her maid," he said with an air of authority. The waiter had evidently no orders for the emergency. He withdrew and left young Charteris standing in the hall. In an instant a door was opened behind him. It was the door of the reception room, where poor Pierre had been searched. "Good God! Are you crazy to come here?" It was the voice of Serpolette. Charteris turned upon the woman in some surprise. "Since you are here, I will give you a piece of advice," she went on, rapidly. "Produce Rosalie from wherever you have hidden her." "Isn't Rosalie here?" asked Charteris, turning pale. "The time for shamming has gone by," said Serpolette. "You are suspected, and you may be arrested at any hour. If sue is alive, produce her." "As Heaven is my witness, I know nothing about her." J|"Oh, find her—find her. You can And her if you choose. Mr Jastrum would kill me if I wasn't mure useful to him alive than dead. You had better get out of his house," and Serpolette gently pushed Max Char teris toward the door, and he left the house in a state of bewilderment. "Idiot,"site added,, turning upon the servant who had been in search of her. "Is this the way you keep out people who are not wanted?" "Serpolette," said a sweet, pitiful voice at the head of the stairs, "who was 'that speaking? I—l fancied it was the voice of Max Charteris." "You fancy a great many things, mademoiselle. You have no reason to expect Mr Charteris. He should not make his call of condolence under a month, us I tell you every day," said Serpolette, joining-her mistress. "But i think it is very strange that neither Mr Charteris nor his son

By MRS W. H. PALMER.

has called. Papa thought so much of Mr Charteris. And he knows that I am all alone in the world." "If you were mistress here, mademoiselle, you would have callers enough. Circumstances alter cases." "Oh, Serpolette, what am I to do? The days go by, and no light comes. I do not set which way to turn." "Mademoiselle, you have but one course —you must marry Mr Jastrum " "Never—never! 1 would sooner die." "Many a pretty girl has to barter her beauty for gold, mademoiselle. It is no worse for you than for many others " "Do not speak of such a thing. I forbid you to mention it. I tell you I would sooner die than even think of such an ignoble sacrifice." Sybil Grey learned all the tortures of hope deferred during the week that followed her father's funeral. The notes she wrote were unanswered. They were never sent. And, though she watched and waited no one came, with a word of sympathy or offered any aid. Was the world so cruel? Were friends so unkind as this? Circumstances forced her to believe that they were. Jastrum, after his first outburst, had adopted a cunning policy. By forcing Sybil to conclude that everyone had forsaken her, by giving her time to fully realise her utter helplessness, he thought he should mould her to his will.

, During this interim he had learned of Rosalie's disappearance; but, absorbed in his own affaire, he was less concerned about his daughter than might have been supposed. "She's concerned in some devilry," he said. "She's always up to something. When she gets ready, she'll turn up all right." As Sybil's youthful vigour returned, she resigned herself to her forlorn situation, and began to speculate how she should help herself, since nobody appeared willingjto aid her.

One morning she made up her mind that, if no visitor called during the day, she would inform Mr Jastrum of her determintion not to trespass upon his hospitality longer than the following morning.

A more miserable situation than Sybil's at this time can hardly be imagined. There was nothing she knew how to do. There was not a soul to whom she could turn. But, all the same, she felt the necessity for action —for escape. She bade Serpolette pack her clothes. During the day she carried into the little ante-room which opened from the library a few trifling mementoes which she prized enough to ask for, humiliating as it would be to do so. This little room had a sort of charm to her. Perhaps because there hung within it a full-length portrait of her mother.

It was after dinner, and she waited there for Luke Jastrum. She was going, to inform him of her intended departure from his house. She little knew that she had been . for a week, and was still, a prisoner within it.

While she waited for Jastrum to appear, she endeavoured to be brave, though she had too much good sense not to realise what awaited her as a friendless outcast/ In this anteroom, as has been mentioned, stood a small iron safe. It had been stripped of its valuables and the door was ajar.

o Glancing by chance within, Sybil saw a little silver-mounted revolver. 4

She had often handled it. Her father had amused himself by teaching the spirited child the use of firearms. She picked it up now, and a thought flashed over her. "Life is so hard, so terrible," thought the unhappy girl, "that I don't know why I should shrink from putting an end to mine. Yes," she concluded, wth a bitter smile, "I will ask for the little revolver along with my other mementoes." She laid the weapon back in the safe, however. "Yet it is weak to die," was her afterthought. "No, I'll not die. Heaven grant me fortitudeto endure my afflictions." With this' thought, she awaited her interview with Luke Jastrum. When Jastrum received the young girl's message, he regarded it as encouraging. He actually attempted, With perfume and pomades, to prepare his odious person for the intervhw. He came in, rubbing his hands. "At your service, Miss Sybil. You're beginning to find outwho your friends are, my dear?" Sybil remained standing. She bent her brilliant eyes haughtily upon the man whose foppish toilet and selfsatisfied smirk made him more detestable than ever. (To be Continued.)