“AN EVIL ANGEL”

Waikato Times, Volume 122, Issue 20511, 30 May 1938, Page 17

“AN EVIL ANGEL”

CHAPTER XXI— , Continued) "You have only to command—every wish you utter 1 will do my best to carry out- Lane shall not meddle if 1 can help it. I mistrust her as you do. 1 believe that she is mixed up with the Comtesse, and that they are both plotting evil.*” And to think how we all believed in Comtesse Feodore,” said Browne, who under A’Court’s ministrations had become somewhat calmer. “I should have known better A'Court—l know that no good true woman would have Emma Lane for a confidential maid— Yet Nina l” There was a pause. A’Court was longing to ask for further details, only a sense of delicacy kept him silent, and after a time Browne went rambling on. “Nina was pure and true and young when her father died. He was a shipwright at Bridlingtoh—a man of no origin, and little education —improvident and poor to boot —a near relation of Mrs Cooper, hence Nina’s intimate connection with the Coopers. He died when she was scarcely sixteen, and Emma Lane was her only prop. My yacht was berthed at Bridlington, and my father was alive, else—”

Again there was a pause, and from the intense suffering he was enduring, beads of perspiration were on his pallid brow*. A’Court bathed his head with some Eau de Cologpe Lane had left on the table, while he murmured—- “ Why enter into these harrowing details—ls it necessary?” “Y’es—yes, for her sake you must know the truth. They went with me on my yacht to the lonian Islands. There we were married, or Nina was persuaded that we were. For my own part I doubted the legality, and cared nothing, so long as Nina believed she was my wife, which she did for a while, till poison came from Lane’s lips. She and I had a serious quarrel, details of which it is too long to tell, and she took her revenge by telling Nina that I had betrayed her into a mere semblance of marriage. From that hour her proud spirit rebelled, and she hated me as once I had believed she loved me. Later on while cruising about I took fever In i Corsica, and she left me, believing me to be dead, though I was not yet cold, and In a trance-like stupor, I heard what was passing, th?ugh I could not speak. Heard Lane persuading her to return to England, not that she wanted much persuading as, if I had lived, she would have left me, was her repeated assertion. Over and over again she said so in cold loveless tones. With only natives about me they both departed, even taking the yacht to Marseilles. Since I was dead what did it matter, deceitful betrayer that I had been. Having landed them the boatswain, however, who was an old retainer in my family, induced the Captain to return, telling him that from some words Lane had dropped he believed I was still alive. “By the time they reached me, I had recovered to a certain degree, though I was still weak from the violence of the fever—cruising about, as I did for some time, I recovered strength, and during my cruising I went to the Island, on which the marriage had taken place, where I obtained from the Consul an attestation that the legal requirements had been duly consummated. There had been no fraud, as I had almost feared. I had no intention to use this in any way, except as a weapon wherewith to stab the woman who, with such heartless cruelty, had left me. If In the course of time she wedded another man, then would be my hour for vengeance, and so, with the proof of my marriage to Nina Fonblanque safe in my possession, I drifted along the sands of Time, without making any enquiries as to her whereabouts. That she too would one day drift into my power, I was fatalist enough to believe. And so it befel.

“When my father died I was In England fop some months, but during that time 1 never saw or heard of Nina or Emma Lane, though I made several efforts at discovering themThen beguiled by a friend into accompanying him on a Canadian shooting expedition, I was so fascinated by the sport, that I passed several years among the snowy Western wilds, where I became the boon companion of Philip Morley. “When you and I renewed acquaintance in London, eight years had passed since Nina left me. When after the lapse of time in Marie Cooper’s drawing room, she recognised the man she had so cruelly doubted, and left for dead in a strange land, no wonder she fell fainting to the floor.” “And you did not speak out? You did not claim her?” “No. I wished her to be free, while I watched the working of Fate. She and Emma Lane had, it appeared, drifted apart. They met again by chance at Ostende. I interviewed Lane, and bade her at her peril to intimidate Nina, or let out the story of our meeting and parting in the past.” “And now?" asked A’Court.

“Now,” answered Browne speaking feebly, for weakness was increasing. “Now I will tell her 9he is truly my wife—will soon be my widow —and quite free to become Countess of Vesey, without a blemish on her fair name.”

A’Court gasped, not because he was astounded at the connection of Nina’s name with that of Jacob. Lord Vesey but because Hamilton Browne should ac-cept It with such apparent sang froid. Little did he know how much it j cost the miserable man on that wretched bed to be so magnanimous! Emma Lane’s appearance, as the daylight deepened, put an end to further confidence. but not till A’Court had ascertained, that it was in order to see Lane, and obtain information in connection with Comtesse Feodore, that he had telegraphed to her to meet him at this out of the way hostelry. Whether the desired information had been obtained. A’Court did not. learn, since Lane did not again absent herself. hut once more took into her hands the duties of nurse—duties which she performed with much skill ; and solicitude, though probably the ! wish to wait for Nina’s coming, and • to watch A’Court, had more to do with | her persistent presence, than any rei gard she had for the dying man, or any \ wish to retrieve the past. ! A’Court. however, was now sufflI ciently on the track of events to forego Lane's assistance. Tie would, as soon as Nina came and he was free to leave the Hotel Courvoisier, And out for himself all that he was desirous ,to know about the antecedents of | Comtesse Feodore.

An Exciting Mystery Story.

(By JOHN MIDDLEMASS.)

So tlie hours of the weary day 'dragged their lengthening chain'— the dying man more than once collapsed, and again revived, till at last, as the shades of evening were creeping up around the dismal dwelling, it seemed as if all hope had departed, and that the flickering spark of life would no longer emit even the feeblest light. Browne's eyes were ever on the door—for a long time now he had neither moved nor spoken, only by the Intensity of his gaze did they know how thoroughly conscious he was. At last there was a flutter and a fluster in the passage. A’Court sprang up and opened the closed door, another second, and Nina had entered“Nina—Nina, my wife.” She was in his widespread arms, clasped to the heart that, with that last almost superhuman effort, ceased to beat. CHAPTER XXII. Spoak Out Jacob, Lord Vesev’s intense surprise when he heard that Nina had been sent for to attend Hamilton Brown's death-bed, and that she had at once departed, so overpowered him, that for a time even his efforts in the cause of his friend Morley were paralysed.

His strictures on the perfidy and instability of women were severe. And his mind full of anger and revolt, he took a mental oath to remain a bachelor, even if the Vesey title became extinct, since Nina, whom he had believed to be absolutely peerless and true, had proved so deceitful and false-hearted.

. Yet, had not this usually practical, logical man allowed reason to run riot, he would have remembered that Nina had only suffered his attentions. She had never given him the least encouragement in manner or speech, to entitle him to think that she reciprocated his love; but disappointment embittered him, and, making him ‘see through a glass darkly,’ he was disinclined to believe in any loving woman. Even Marie Cooper’s love for Philip Morley was blurred in his eyes—rendered insincere and selfish, although she wept piteous tears, and Implored him to bring her Philip back to her, telling him she had no one to lean on now but him, since even Nina had deserted her. “But why had Nina deserted her post?” he asked, but he asked in vain, Marie could not tell him. She was as perplexed as he was about these unexpected relations between Nina and Hamilton Browne. Only Mrs Cooper threw some little light, on the matter since she knew that in the past Nina had had an unhappy love affair. This much had been confided to her when Nina, being in search of a situation, she had applied to her for a reference, and, being a distant cousin, she had, with the permission of the late kind-hearted John Cooper, taken her herself as companion to Marie. The name of the man, who had played a treacherous part in Nina’s life, she had never been told, nor was she apparently aware that Emma Lane had ever been confidential housekeeper to Mr Fonblanque, and had later so perniciously influenced the girl’s life, that she was afraid of mentioning her, even to her best friend, as Mrs Cooper unquestionably was.

What little Mrs Cooper would tell about Nina scarcely afforded much satisfaction to the man, who had believed himself to be thoroughly in love with her. Hardness so stultified all kindness in his heart, and he believed that he hated Nina and all womankind, and he had no pity or regret for the terrible accident, that had befallen Browne, repeating to himself over and over again in angry tones, that,

“Browne had only received his just punishment. A traitor alike in love and friendship, he could not expect a happier end.” In fact, twenty-four hours after Nina’s departure, no one would have recognised the erst, benevolent, kindly Jacob in the sneering, cold, relentless man, to whom even poor little suffering Marie vainly appealed for help and comfort. Nevertheless the world does not stand still, however ill some of Its denizens may behave, or while others pause in their daily work to lament and objurgate. In spite of Jacob’s passiveness, events were trending to a climax. The telephone bell was ringing briskly in the Belgrave Street library. It was Marie herself who answered the" summons, as she had now no cohort of assistants. Madame Francine’s voice. “Is Ml lor in Belgrave Street? He is not at his house —If chez vous, send him at once.” Mi lor was walking in a solitary alley in the Park, chewing the cud of severe disappointment. Marie forthwith started in a hansom for Dover Street. Practical maternal instincts developing under the pressure of necessity, she determined to work the cords of this miserable business herself. Strange, if with womanly tact, she could not bring it to a successful issue. When she reached the door of Madame Francine’s establishment, to her no small surprise French came forward to assist her. “What are you doing here?” she asked. “I thought I might be of some assistance, Miss Marie. It is well you should have a strong arm to depend on, if anything unpleasant should occur.” “You are a faithful servant, French, but can I not rely on Madame Francine?” “Yes—yes, Miss but she is only a woman, and police officials are rather rough, besides —” “Besides? —Go on.” But French had no opportunity for vouchsafing further information, or , he might have told her, that it was I through liis instrumentality, that a j startling development was about to I take place in the all engrossing ‘case.’ I One of the ‘demoiselles’ came down j the stairs to usher Miss Cooper into j Madame Francine’s private bureau, where she was sitting by the writing lable, talking to a man who was standing beside her. (To be continued)