The Queen of The Isle OR SIBYL CAMPBELL'S LOVE

Waihi Daily Telegraph, Volume IV, Issue 1113, 7 October 1904, Page 4

The Queen of The Isle OR SIBYL CAMPBELL'S LOVE

BY MAY AGNES FLEMING

Aulhoi of "The Heirm of Glen Gower," "The Unseen Bridegroom," clc

CHAPTER XXXIV. HXPUN4TIONS "Willard! Willard! Willard!" With his own name breathed in his cava by tho voico ho never expected to hear again; with tha siunll fair face of Christie bonding over him Willnrd Drununond lay scarcely during to breathe, gazing with wondoringeyesonlhcangal iaco.lio had uover expected to behold on earth more. " Willard I Willnrd! Only say yo.i know mo I only speak ts me onco beforo 1 die I' was tho wild cry that sighed in his ear. Ho pressod his hand lo his head like one in a dream. • 11 Am I mad?" he said; "oram I dead, and sea Christio again in tho world of spirits ?" ~ ~ „, "Willnrd! Willard! wo both live. Oh Willard, thank God yon wen spared the guilt of ray death. Oh, Willard! lam not dead; do not look at mi so wildly." . "Can this bo only the delirium of a dream ?" ho said, passing his hand over his brow. No, it was not a item. No phantom of tho imagination over could have clasped him with Bitch yearning, clinging arms; ever could have hold his head on such a warn, throbbing breast. Ho awoke to the reality, at last, Springing up in the bol where ho lay, ho gazed upon her as if doubting tho evidenco of his senses. "Oh, Willard I Oh my husband I I am not dead; I was only wounded I 1 live to say I forgive you all that is past!" " Great Heaven! am I sano or mad?' ho said in a low voice. Sho approached and caught his hands in hers and said: " Willard look at me! feel my hands! my face! aud bcliovo lam your Christie still!" * .. ■' Then she may be saved yet!' was Ins wild cry, as ho sprang from tho bed with the ono thought of Sybil over in his mind. "Who, Willnrd?" "Sybil! my wronged Sybil!" At the name tho dreary past came back

and Christies head dropped heavily on the bed. \ Ho was scarcely in his right somes yet but, stunned, bevil Icred, giddy with many emotiojs he sank into a chair and strove tocollect his thoughts. "I know not yel whether I am sleeping or waking," ho said, " Christie—where are you? Come here; let mo see you again that I may know whether all this is is not a vision of disordered brain, that will fade away a? many a similar ono has done,"

She arose, and stood befoie him. Ho took her hand, so small watm and transparent that it looked like on infant's, and pushing bask tho full golden hair of the lino white brow, gazed long and earnestly into tho depths of tho largo blue eyes so unspeakably odd, so deeply reproachful now, "Yes, this is Christie! alivo still, and yet so long mourned for as dead I' he said slowly. " This'is strango; this is wonderful I Christie, how comei this to pass ? How is it that alter so many months given up for doad, I find you alivo still in this forest cot ?" "Oh.Willard! Willavil 1 can you ask after that dreadful night ?" she said, in a tone of unutterable sorrow and reproach. " Christie, as Heaven hears mo, I know not what you mean! Do you nllnde to that tempestuous night on which you woro supposed to bo murdered ?" "Oh, you know I do! Oh, Willard! Willurd I that you should sp;ak of it like this!' 1 she said in that low tono of saddest reproach. " Christie, there is some misunderstanding horo, l)o yon mean to say that I was with you that nitjht?" he said vehement-

iyShe did not reply, but her eyes answer ed iho question. '•Christie! I nevorsct fool on tho islandfrom the day wo parted there aftor your telling mo of your/interview with Sybil!' said Willard, impeVuously. "And tho note?' sho said faintly " Do yon moan the nolo appointing our meeting on tho hooch, that night of mystery ?" he asked, "Ob, yes! yes!" •' Christie 1 I sent that note, but I novor went,nevor, That very hour J received news that my father was dying, which obliged me to start instantly for home, without even an opportunity of apprising you. Christie, that night I spont many rnilos away from tho island. 1, "Christie! Christie! do you not boliovo me?"

She lifted her eyes, Thoro wus truth in hor face, and with the wild Hash of sudden joy she cried out: "Idol I'do! Oh, "Willarcl, tlmok God for this! Thank God that yon novor raised your hand against my lifo!" t-" Oh! Ido not wonder at your look of horror; but all thoso weary months 1 thought so. Oh, my husband, forgive me I But on that night, that awful night, I was met on the beach and stabbed bv a man,"

11 Heaven and earth! anS you thought it was 1 ?"

" Willard I Willaard! forgivo me I But, oh, what else could I think ? You appointed the meeting. I went, was met ihoro by R tall flan, stabbed by him, and left for dead on the shorn."

" And you could behove I could do such a deed?" he said, with Litter reproach. "Oh, how could I holp it? The thought was maddening; but how could I think otherwise ? Say, only nay you for give me, WilhiruT "I you, Cliristio. What a strange, fathomless mystery all this is! Who wns this man, Christie?"

" I have no idea! Oh, I thougnt I had not an enemy in the wido world."

"Is thero no clew by which you could recognise him again ?." Nono! you forgot tho storm, tho deep darkness of thai night."

'■True! buthcavensl what am I thinking of I'' he said, starting up wildly. '■ Why do I lingor an instant here, when it ie in my power to save Sybil from tho ignominious dcßth of thohnhor,"

" What!" " Christie, she was amstcd, tried, con,, demnod, and doomed to die, for your murder!"

"For mine! Father in heaven!" gasdod the almost fainting Christie ■'ltmay not be tcolato to save her yot You must come with mo, Cnristie. Haston!hasten! ISvory momont. is precious row." "Oh this is awful! Oh, Willard, whou doeß this awful sentenco huo place?" "The day after tomorrow. With all our Bpeod wo wdl be barely in tiruo." " Most horrible!" said Christie. '•' How camo she over to bo suspected of such a crime?"

"Oh thero was a maddening chain of circumstantial ovitlencc, I have no time to toll you now; ou our way I will toll you all. Merciful heaven, if we should bo too lato."

"I will go instantly! I will ho ready in a moment," said Christie, as sho hurridly threw on her wrappings. " Not in this storm, Christie," snid Uiiclu Beuben, anxiously. "Thee must nut venture out to-night," "Oh, I must! limiit! the life of a

fellow creature depends upon it," Bftid Christie.

Willard Drummond paused for a moment in dismay, 10 listen to the storm howling through the I roes, and glanco at tho frail, linlo lignro before him. But tho thought of Sybil in pnril stcolccl his heart against every other feeling. " She must be savod, let what wiil follow I" ho mentally exclaimed. "Theo will never be ablo to make thy way through the storm, Christie," said Reuben, anxiously "Listen to the wind and rain."

" Oh, I hoar it! J hear it! But though it rained tiro from heaven, I should have to go," " Christie, thoo will perish with fatiguo.' "Oh no; I'll not. I must live, I shall liye, to save Sybil Campbell, I fool it—an inward voice tolls me ao."

"Then thee is determined to go?" said Uncle Reuben, sorrowfully,

" I must, Good-byo dear Uncle Eeuben, goodbye." " Will thee over cotno back, little Christie?" said Undo Reuben, holding her littlo hands in his. "AsHoaven wills! I fear not But Uncle Reuben—if J'do not, you will come to sco ujo die."

" Oh, dearest Ch'istio!" His honest voico choked, and he Btoppcd. " Good-bye, Bertha. Kiss Christie onco more. 1 ' _, " Going away ?" said tho maniac, in vaguo surprise.

" Yes, dearest friend; and if I never .'come back, you must not forgot me." '* Chrißlic f Chrisiioliny mk, my injured, long-suffering wife, do not talk so! 1 cannot bear it!' said Willard Drummond passionately, for every word of that sorrowful parting hadboeulikoa dagger in his hoart.

Sho came over with tho old, trusting lovo of happier time l ;, aud, clasping her hands on his shoulder, sjfily murmured:

" Doarest Willard I it jb better so. I?m not afraid to dio now, alter what I have heard You will bo happy with tier—with Sybil; and I—l will pray for you boih, and love you both in heaven." " Oh, Christie!" he cried, clasping hoi io his urtns,^ 1 am I only to ronlisc 1 havo lost tho treasure, when it is too late!'

"Not too late, Willard; if it will help to make you a bettor man, it is not too lite, There ave many happy days for you, for Sybil, for me—yet to pouic." " Wretch! wretch I that I have been," he groaned. " Why was I doomed to bring bitter misery and doatb on all who evor loved me?" (To o« continual