PRIMROSE DELORAINE

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10309, 9 August 1911, Page 2

PRIMROSE DELORAINE

OUR SERIAL.

"«VS DAUGHTER. .IE PENDEXNIS. jr'Aa t: "Sir Reginald's ,\ • im," "The Forgotten Heir." "Rival Beauties,' 'etc.

C J". f-'-'V- R XXl.—Continued

j „ "-_•;—;•'so's soul rose up in pasior /.v....'. •• icd out within her with sassierc\c '. sistence that it was not true, iv.'.t ..rue. And yet there was "is peril u . it all, the terrible, horr.ble, de>.l'- danger; the dread pen--ty thai i' ;ht be exacted and paid, ...idess —-~ What ■.-•;-, it that Mrs Vivian had .aid? Tfc .'•' die could savo him? She —»ud save i 3 man she loved, and she

She thrsr her head back proudly, ■] rawing i\r- ier slender figure to its full, gr.aoeVs.l heiglit. "Tho ni;u T love is no murderer," he zzi'l c;r-:::.]y. "He has been wild, I know—wild and lawless—and many very desperate deeds have been laid at his door; but whatever he has been he lias never been a coward. He has never raised his hand against anyone except in fair fight, and. there is no stain of blood on his soul. He is no murderer —his soul is clean. But—oh oh! '.'-. She broke off again. Valerie Vivian smiled. "The law and you take very different views of things," she said. "Captain Jack is a murderer in tho eyes of the law, and ho will pay the penalty. I will see that ho pays it—unless you save him. It all rests with you. If you choose to give him up and put him out of your life forever, his life will be saved. I and others will see to that. He will be helped out of the country and saved from the terrible danger that hangs over him. Will you do that ? Do you love -him well enough to giyo him lip for his safety, or is the love you talk so much about only a sham." There was a moment's silence, whilo Primrose's eyes still looked into the other woman's, dark with a horror that was to deep for words. Then tho girl drew herself up again. "You say you have just come from Jack," she said. "No doxibt all that you have just said to me has been said to him. No doubt he has been offered this samo chance to save his lifo that you offer me. What was his answer ? Tell me truthfully. What was his answer?" Again there was a moment's silence. Mrs Vivian's clever, subtle mind flashed swiftly hither and thither fro mone point to another, calculating chances, weighting possibilities and probabailities, wondering if the truth or a lie would serve her best. And it seemed to her that she would gain nothing by a lie. but more, perhaps by the truth. So she told the truth. * "He refused to give you up," she said. "He's a fool, and he said that as long as you both lived no earthly power would induce him to give you |up of his own will. But then he does : not think anything of his life, PrimI rose. A man of that sort holds his life lightly, you know; he has carried it in his hands times without number. [ But you, you love him, and you can't think lightly of his life. It must be everything to you, and you can save it if you willr Come, what is your answer?" ' . . / The girl still looked her in the face with those clear, fearless eyes of hers, throwing back, her head again, the proud little head, with its crown of sun-kised hair, that Lord Eversdene loved. "My answer," phe said, very low, "my answer is the same as Iris. The same as the answer of the man I love. As long as w© both live I will never give Mm up of my own free will, im-' less he tells me to." And then, her face changed swiftly, and a passionate prayer, a wild, d - spairing appeal, flashed into the pur- j pie velvet depths of heiveyes. "Oh; you are cruel!" she cried passionately. "Merciless. I will not pray to you. It would be no use. You hate me for, some re asqn or another, and there's no mercy in your heart for me. But there is a Heaven above us, a Heaven watching over all, and there is mercy there. Mercy and pity and help for i those helpless and hopeless, and yet have done no wrong. •It ■is' to Heaven I' pray;- not to you. To Heaven I trust the safety pf my dear one, who is dearer far to me than I life itself. Heaven is just; Heaven is [ merciful. Heaven will hear my pray- I

%-cring form liko the keen, sharp thrust of a knife. "Faster!" -'■ he said, to tho man who held the r.teering wheel. "Faster -•faster! Don't waste a moment! Ah! you wouldn't if you knew all that depends on this. Fasterf faster!" She raised her hands and beat them together in a frenzy of passion and fear, her eyes wido and strained, full of a dumb, voiceless agony, a haunting dread. And the man at the wheel bent to his work, and sent the car flying faster —ever faster. On and on they rushed through the startled night. On and on.

CHAPTER XXII.

THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES

Out in the peaceful stillness of the silent country, under the light of the stars, a motor car sped swiftly, noiselesly through the chilly darkness of the spring night.. On and on it tore, flashing over the white, level roads, thi-ough sleeping l villages, down winding lanes, up hills, like a thing possessed. On and on, whirling, dashing,' hounding, seeming as though it were running a race with the powers of evil. In the car a girl's slender figure, tense, rigid motionless, oould.be seen dimly outlined against the padded cushions. A girl's face—white, set, passion pale in the starlight—was uplifted in wordless, agonised prayer to the blue velvet heavens above. On and on through the thrilling ail- j ence that seemed alive with deep, tra- j gic; things.. On and ever on, and the { girl caught her breath in a swift, sobbing sigh, as the cold night wind tore j past her like a mad thing, stinging a hot colour into her pale, wet cheeks as it went. ■ On and on, with a host of old, wild, sweet memories rending her heart strings, a passionate despair and bewilderment flooding her soul, an awful desperate pain stabbed her whole qui-

Nighttime at Eversdene Castle —a black and silver night. All the rooms of the castle save one were in darkness, for t-ho electric light had been, switched off for the night, and the members of the great household had retired to rest. Only in Lord Eversdene's own special den there still shone through the uncurtained windows into the night a warm, dull, crimson glow from the artistically shaded bronze lamps. It was a queer room, a study in contrasts, and eminently characteristic of its owner. All along one side of the dark-green papered walls there ran handsomely carved oak bookcases, chammed with Lord Eversdene's favourite books j books of sport and travel and wild, hair-breadth, adventures and dare-devil deeds mingling with all the breat works of the great poets, and books full of beautifully "tinted art pictures and engravings, and any number of modern novels, French and English. On the two remaining walls there hung three or four valuable paintings ; one of a meet of foxhounds, one of a famous racehorse, and another an oxquisito woodland fairy fancy, all i tender, dreamy elusiveness and deliJ cate colouring, and soft, beautiful J half-tones.. And surrounding them a I mixed assortment of fishing rods, • rifles, pistols, fencing foils, boxing gloves, pipe racks, and hunting crops. Swords and spears hung there, not mere playthings, but weapons that had seen the light of day under many strange skies,, ,and gone through many ghastly, lurid scenes of war. Weapons stained with grim, rusty patches that told their tale of battle onlv too plainThe polished floor had no carpet, but, like the wonderful old hall, was strewn with rare skins; a beautiful white bearskin rug lay on the hearth, and on it, stretching its splendid length, there slept a dog, a great Dane, basking in the ruddy firelight. Carved tables, litter© dwith sporting papera and magazines and cigarettes, were scattered over the room. Quaint j brackets with curios and bric-a-brac J were in the corners; a piano and a, I revolving music stand stood across one side of the room, and all went to make up a luxurious if somewhat inharmonious whole. A great easy chair was drawn close to the blazing logs, and in it Lord Eversdene was lounging lazily, a tall, broad-shouldered figure in his darkpurple and black smoking jacket with its silk facings, his gray eyes gazing dreamily into tho heart of the red embers. Memory showed him many pictures there, and he smiled half mockingly, half tenderly, as he watched them; and presently he began to talk to himself, after his usual habit. "Life's an odd game of chance, ' he remarked, and reached down a strong hand to lay it caressingly on the Dane's great head; "and the Fates play the mischief with «\ man's j life, don't they, old boy ? The Fates j I have been on my side until lately, or j j I might have found myself in queerer J places than I liave done already; but ! now it seems that they have had the j uncommon bad taste to take a dislike to me. I suppose they think that it is only fair to give me a slice of bad luck to .mix with the good',, but still— Well, well, Dame Fortune is a fickle jade at best, as we all know,, and if she chooses to turn her wheel round not in my favour I can't help that. What can' tbe cured must be endured. I used to write that in m ycopy books. It takes more than the strengh of a mere moral to fight against the Fates and Dame Fortune too; and yet——" He paused, and his eyes went absently to a clock as it chimed ten. His mouth set itself in iron lines. "And yet," he added, "we are going to fight them, aren't we, old boy? There are a good many things that are [ worth fightin gfor. just now, and life is sweet. When one comes to think of it, I read that in a book the other day —life is sweet." ' The strong brown hand that pulled the Dane's ear clenched round the soft skin with unconscious force, clenched so tightly that the great; Dane stirred in dignified reproach, and lookcH up with great, solemn eyes as if some of the passionate inward strife of emotions that ran rife in his. master's soul had comimtnicated itself to him. "Did I hurt you, old boy?" inquired Lord Eversdene remorsefully. "Upon my word, I'm awfullv sorry. There. Shake hands and forgive." He lifted one of the hound's great feet with a whimsical smile, and shook it gravely; and the Dane leaned his head against the man's knee with tho trustful love that Lord Eversdene inspire! in all animals. {To be Continued).