When Love Rules The Heart.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 9577, 25 August 1909, Page 2

When Love Rules The Heart.

CHAPTER XXlll.—Continued.

Fortunately the detective was in, and disengaged. He listened attentively to the young man's story. He became interested; there was a touch of spire in the affair, after a]J! This son of a peer was not eo great a fool as he had believed him to be. Love and romance! He shrugged his shoulders. The sordid, evil side of life and blunted the man's finer feelings, if he had ever been possessed of any. "It is a remarkable story!" he said, briefly, "i Know Mr Etheringt;n. He is a wealthy man—his daughter will be a wealthy woman. Your positions are reversed. It is you who propose to abduct the lady." He laughei) quietly. "We are to find her for ynu, and half a dozen men must be at your service to watch Seton, Etherington, the Chattos? Information flashed to you? H'm! The lady is on your side, Ino not doubt. We ought to wjn; then you must deal with the father. The chances are th-it there will be nothing for us to do. If the lady has keen wits she will hide in London until she can communicate with you. She has your address, I presume?" "Oh, yes!" Armitage spoke hopefuily. "Thank you, sir! Within half-an-hour the smartest men in London shall be fully instructed to act. Shall I wire to your club?" "No; the Grand Hotel, Picadilly." "And then, in the event of success?"

"I shall be prepared with a special license—l shall marry Zilla at once!"

The last few words were uttered in a low tone; there was a rapturous look on Armitage's eager, handsome face. He was hopsful. Zilla could not possibly be far away! He went to his hotel. His footstep was light, his brow was clear. He refreshed himself with a bath, and changed his clothes: then he dined in his own room, and waited.

Charlie Chatto called in the evening,. Miss Seton had not returned, and two men were watching his house. He knew a detective in any guise. "Hold your cab in readiness and keep your horse fresh!" Armitage saiJ confidently "I know that I can trutt jou, Chatto." The cabman was pleased. : * "And 1 shall be at the wedding, j sir?" "You shall be one witnesses, Chatto." His eyes sparkled, his face lighted up. He saw Zilla's love-lit, eyes, he heard her sweet rhythmical tones, he felt htr tender, clinging clasp. "Ah. Chatto, you cannot understand what my feelings are' I feel as if my happiness were too great for me to bear. You will serve me well, and I There — 1 wish to be left alone, Chatto. I may hear good news at any iroment. Gotd night!" As Charlie Chatto left the room a waiter entered. He carried a letter. It had just been delivered by the postman Armitage recognised the hand-writing—the crest—even before he touched it. "From my father." he ([thought, frowning. The waiter withdrew, and Armitage opened the letter impatiently, apprehensively. There were several pages of careful writing—a most unusual thing of Lord Rainhill. His written communications were, as a rule, curt and abrupt. This is what Duncan read:

"My Dear Son: I am penning these lines to you in preference to risking a stormy meeting. 1 am writing because I am desperate, and with the prayerfal hope that you are not altogether blind to honor. Your treatment of me this morning was simply infamous, and, but for Miss Howard, i should wash my hands of you—once and for all! I want no man for my sen who is foolish enough to allow his head to be turned by the vulgar beauty of wandering street singer, the child of a convict. Gracious Heaven, I am beside myself when 1 contemplate it! But enough—l am making this last appeal on behalf of Helen Howard, the girl who loves you with a devotion that nothing can alter, the girl to whom you plighted your troth long before you even beheld this itinerant singer. So far Helen suspects notMng. I have lied to her, and Florence has done the same. Excuses have to be made, and we both believe that you will*ultimately become disillusioned. I swear this solemnly—if you persist in followiU2 this singing woman. Helen's death will be at your door. Hers is one of those intense natures which suffer in secret, and there is heart trouble in the family. We are leav- \ ing town at once for Rainhill Court. May I hope that you will follow soon, if only lor the sakt of appearances? Your conduct is causing intense misery to Florence. "Your unhappy father, "RAINHILL." For a long time Duncan sat with the letter spread out on his knses. The characters seemed to dance before him. A wave of remorse swept over his being. A vision of Helen Howard's face rose-before him —the sweet blue eyes, the sun-bright hair. "I'oor Helen!" he half sobbed. "How can I write to you after this? I dare not! And my father and Flo! I will wait a while; I dare not write

BY OWEN MASTEKS. Author of "Captain Einlyn's Daughter," "The Woman Wins," "The Heir of Avisford," "One Impassioned Hour," Eta, Etc.

CHAPTER XXIV

for a day or two." He sprang to his feet, his eyes flashing. "An itinerant singer! Then he does not Know the truth. Itinerant singer or not, I love my Zilla best of all!"

A RECONCILIATION.

Hours lengthened into days, and Duncan Armitnge's hopes suffered a great shock. Even the detective was piqued and bewildered. Zilla had vanished utterly. No trace of her could be found. "If we have failed," the deteetive_ said, "it is equally certain that Mr Etherington has failed also. His men have kept a constant watch upon your movements, as my men have upon his. At every step you are followed. A detective is even living at your hotel. I don't know what else we are to do, unless we try the newspaper. The disappearance is one of the most remarkable in all my experience." Armitage was distracted. "Do anythings—everything!" he answered. "Let inquiries be made at every hospital. She may be dying —dead! I cannot endure this suspense much longer. I tell you that you are all blundering ! It is not possible in these days for a lady to vanish as she seems to have done. Your system is at fault. You want men of brains in your ranks, instead of the clumsy louts who disgrace the profession." The detective listened unruffled. He had heard similar tiradesdozens of them.

"My men are different from the common policemen who rises from the ranks," as his reply. "Most of them were men of position, but ecu d not resist the temptation of misappropriating moneys that were entrusted to them. They have seen the inside of prisons, and know almost every jail bird living. The police authorities come to us, Mr Armitage. And ladies do disappear every day of our lives, in the great vortex of the metropolis, and the river swallows hundreds." "Hush—hush!" Armitage paced the floor in anguish. "Five whole days gone," he muttered—"five iong, weary days—and no clue!" He thought of the Ursuline Convent at Boulogne, and a man was despatched there that very day. It resulted in nothing. Advertisements were inserted in British and foreign newspapers. The result was always the same—failure. And still the days dragged slowly along, hopeless and weary. | TO BE CONTINUED.]