THREE MEN AND A MAID.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXI, Issue 9048, 6 February 1908, Page 2

THREE MEN AND A MAID.

CHAPTER Xll.—Continued. Marjcrie was glad to be seated. James Courthope might be a villain, but he was a polite one; she acknowledged a feeiiug almost of: gratitude for hU thoughtfiilness. He was evidently wishful to put her an her easa before he broached the subject of his letter, and, in very truth, she was a little shaken for the moment. "I implied no hostility by my wor <s, Mr Courthope," said she. "My sister'c plain statements and your own attitude towards her " "Warranted you in assuming that we were an engaged couple," he weni on seeing that she hesitated. "That is one good reason for our talk to-dav. 1 may have, acted foolishly when I was a penniless dependent on my cousin Robert's bounty. Hannah has a pretty face, and I admit that I found her attractive roguishness not displeasing. But circumstances alter cases, Marjorie. When I bring a lady to grace my board her name will not be Hannah. That is as fixed a thing as the rising of to-morrow's sun. And please do not think that I am a man of changeable mind, who seeks a rose in every garden and vows there is none to equal the flower of my latest fancy. Tnat is not at all a true estimate of my character. lam really blessed, or cursed, with an unbending temperament, rigid as steel, though perhaps able to yield apparently to outward convention. As the French say. I recoil in order to spring farther, and I beg of you to remember that I recoiled from Hannah long before recent events shook our little world of Hudston." "It seems to me that this explanation, unpleasant though it may be, should be given to Hannah," said Marjorie. dimly awakening to the fact that James Courthope was putting his case with exceeding plausibleness. "All in good time. Hannah is a , difficult person. You know what I mean. She is not a lady. She would scream and rave and declare her woes to the street, and gather a mob to ' watch her breaking my windows. These disagreeable symptoms of overthrown ambition can be avoided. Time is a great healer. You, who have suffered, are with me in that. The bitterness of last week is more bearable to-day than it was in the first hours of agony. But leave me to deal with Hannah. I pass from her, with one question. Do you believe me when I say that she will never, under any possible conditions, be the lady of the manor of Hudston?" Marjorie gasped a little. She knew what was coming, and summed all her strength to twist events towards the good hap of Philip. "Unquestionably your words are not those of a devoted lover," she answered, trying to be flippant. "Then that clears some of the thorns trom my path," said Courthope, half turning from her and facing the door, thus giving her the opportunity of searching his face with her eager eyes. The man would have rrade an actor of note. He had perfect self-command, physical and mental. Though he longed to clasp Marjorie to his heart and kiss away her protests, he forebore. Any such sensational love-making would be fatal to his success. He must hold himself in a tight hand. It was a great thing that Marjorie was there listening and half convinced. In the strenuous days to come she would not forget; all "the time the image of Philip Warren-would he fading; all the time the quiet, steadfast-worship offered her by James Courthope would be a growing force. Though he positively glowed with ardour his' cold, cynical intellect bade him be still. A diamond, hard and scintillating, might reason thus if it were capable of emotion. There was a prolonged silonce before he spoke" again. In that tomb-like tower the deepening gloom had a sense of power and mystery. It was kin to the ambiguous nature of their meeting. Even Courthope, wrapped in one consuming furnace of hope and fear, was alive to its influence. "Marjorie," he said at last, "lean endure my torture no longer. Yet, before you condemn me, I pray you wait and search your very soul. Marjorie, I love you! God, how I want you! Man has never loved woman more ardently than I love you. But you must not decide my fate to-das'. Though I felt that my brain would yield to the strain if I did not tell ynu of my longing, I only wish you to know it, to ponder it, to have some knowledge of the agony which is knawing at my vitals. Then, perhaps, some day, you may have pity on me an/, tell me—tell me—that I may hope." Again the dark silence smote them like a chord of solemn music. The pleading in the man's voice left its vibrato in the girl's ears. For an instant she was wotfu'.ly afraid of the ' intense passion she had aroused, but the love of Ihis wooer was as the mad revel of a satyr, and she almost felt Philip Warren's arms around her as she murmured with bent bead: "I am glad—you realize—that I I cannot answer you now, Mr Courthope. You must —wait." She was running a dreadful risk, she knew. She was playing with fire in holding out any sort of encouragement to this unscrupulous and daring man. She held herself prepared to rush to the door and escape to the moor, strong in the belief that he would not pursue her, but rather seek to dispel her fears. But in the very instant that Courthope turned to her, his pale, dark face aflame with triumph, they both heard a movement as of some one rising out of a cramped position. Before Marjorie could shriek or her companion choke back the oath that rose to his lips, a rapid, steady foot-

• By ROBERT ERASER.

[Published By Special Arrangement.] [All Eights Reserved.]

step advanced towards them and Philip Warren, looking from one to the other with the accusing eye of an incensed judge, said: "Miss Neyland may not bo able to answer you to-day» James Couthorpe, but I can. Your cousin Kobert fought me for her, and won, and I swear by high heaven that if he does not marry her you shall not, you selfadmitted liar." Courthope, for all his splendid nerve, was stricken dumb by this apparition, but Marjorie tottered towards Philip, her arms outstretched and every pulse delirious with joy at the mere sight of him. "Philip, oh, Philip!" she murmured, breathless, and almost fainting. He shrank from her as though she were a leper. There was no mistaking his attitude. He seemed to think that her touch would contaminate him. He would not even meet her appealing eyes, or trust himself to hear the words which came from her trembling lips. "I can have nothing to say to this lady," he went on, in a slow measured speech which was so unlike his wonted impulsive utterance. "\ fought for her, and lost her, and God j knows that my heart was broken by that losing. I pledged my faith not , to see or speak to her for five years, and I have kept my vow in the spirit if not in the letter. And now, James Courthope, I find you trying, not without some success, to steal her from your cousin. What kind of mean beast can you be? Is there no truth on earth V Has honour gone from man and fidelity from woman? But you have two honest men to bar your wolf's path. Not Robert Courthope only, but I " Then James found his voice, and he cried in loud fury, for he nothing above ground or beneath : "Robert Courthope! What has he to do with vows and pledges? Why do you prate of the dead?" '"'The dead! Why did he die, and, when?" "You dare to ask me that; you, his murderer?" "You lie, James. Let this lady go from here, and I shall prove it on you." "No doubt one more crime will not deter you. But,' whether you know it or not —and you are fool enough to be actually unaware of your own deed—you stabbed Robert Courthope to the heart when you fought him in Lancault Churchyard, and the police are now scou'nhg tfie*c6untry for you." James was recovering his wits. Of the three he was rapidly becoming the most ordered in mind, and he calculated, with lightning rapidity, that this extraordinary and altogether un- ; looked-for appearance of Philip might I he twisted to his own great advan- | tage. Yet his heart did quail a little I when he heard Marjorie's low wail of I anguish: I "Oh, Philip, why do you use such cruel words to me! Philip, dear, let me explain. Take me away, ah, take me away, and let me tell you all!" But Warren would have none of her proffered embraces. She dropped to her knees and wept pitifully; nevertheless, he studiously avoided her, and replied to Courthope in the same metallic voice. "It may be as you say, that Robert is dead. If he is, I am guiltless of his death. When we parted, he was a strong man armed, I defenceless and beaten. I begin to understand now things which have pUzzled me of late, but the police need not search any more, as I shall go to the village and yield myself to the law. I have no fear. lam innocent of any crime. Can you say that, James 'Courthope? And do not dream that because Roblert is dead, and I discarded—forgotten—so soon, you are free to marry the woman for whom two such men were willing to give their heart's blood. That infamy shall never never be. I, Philip Warren, outcast and disgraced though I be, pledge myself to that new vow, and I have never yet gone back on my word." "Though you killed hope and shall be hanged for it, I agree with.'you in that," came Hannah's shrill voice from the door. (To be,continued.)