sadface once again, I went out and whiled away the hours that seemednever-ending, until at last when twilight fell I took train to the placenamed.
Ten minutes before the hour she had indicated I found the seat in theTerrace Gardens, but there was no sign of the presence of any humanbeing. It was almost closing time, and the Terrace was utterlydeserted. All was silent save the rushing of a train, or the dullrumbling of vehicles passing along the top of the hill, and distantsounds became mingled with the vague murmurs of the trees. The chillwind sighed softly in the oaks, lugubriously extending their dark barearms along the walk like a row of spectres guarding the vast masses ofvapour spreading out behind them and across the valley, where the Thamesran silent and darkly in serpentine wanderings, and the lights werealready twinkling. Even as I sat the last ray of twilight faded, andnight, cloudy and moonless, closed in.
Suddenly a harsh strident bell gave six hurried strokes, followed byhalf a dozen others in different keys, the one sounding far distantacross the river, coming, I knew, from Isleworth's old time-stainedtower, with which boating men are so familiar.
It had seemed years full of sad and tender memories since we had parted,yet in ecstasy I told myself that in a few moments she would be again atmy side, and from her eyes I might, as before, drink of the cup of loveto the verge of intoxication.
A light footstep sounded on the gravel, and peering into the darkness Icould just distinguish the form of a man. As he advanced I saw he wastall, well-built, and muscular, nearly forty years of age, with a slightblack moustache and closely cropped hair that was turning prematurelygrey. He wore the conventional silk hat, an overcoat heavily trimmedwith astrakhan, and as he strode towards me he took a long draw at hiscigar.
"Good evening," he said courteously, halting before me as I rose, "Ibelieve I have the pleasure of addressing Mr Stuart Ridgeway, have I_not_?"
"That is my name," I answered rather brusquely, not without surprise,for I had expected Sybil to keep her appointment.
"I am the bearer of a message," he said in slow, deliberate tones. "Thelady who telegraphed to you this morning desires to express her extremeregret at her inability to meet you. Since the telegram was sent,events have occurred which preclude her attendance anywhere," and hepaused. Then he added with sadness: "Anywhere--except before herJudge."
"Her Judge!" I gasped. "What do you mean? Speak! Is she dead?"
"No," he answered solemnly, "she still lives, and although overshadowedby a secret terror, her only thought is of you, even in these verymoments when she is being carried swiftly by the overwhelming flood ofcircumstances towards her terrible doom."
"You speak in enigmas," I said quickly. "We are strangers, yet youapparently are aware of my acquaintance with Sybil. Will you not tellme the nature of her secret terror?"
"I cannot, for two reasons," he replied. "The first is, because I amnot aware of the whole of the circumstances; the second, because I havegiven her my promise to reveal nothing. Hence my lips are sealed. AllI can tell you is that a great danger threatens her--how great youcannot imagine--and she desires you to fulfill your promise and renderher your aid."
"Whatever lies in my power I will do willingly," I answered. "If shecannot come to me will you take me to her?"
"Upon two conditions only."
"What are they?"
"For your own sake as well as hers, it is imperative that she shouldstill preserve the strictest incognito. Therefore, in driving to herhouse, you must allow the blinds of the carriage to be drawn, and,however curious may appear anything you may witness in her presence, youmust give your word of honour as a gentleman--nay, you must take oath--not to seek to elucidate it. Mystery surrounds her, I admit, butremember that any attempt to penetrate it will assuredly place her ingraver peril, and thwart your own efforts on her behalf."
"Such conditions from a stranger are, to say the least, curious," Iobserved.
"Ah!" he exclaimed, smiling, "your reluctance to accept is but natural.Well, I can do no more, I have fulfilled my mission. The woman you lovehas staked her young life--and alas! lost. She has counted upon youraid in this hour of her extremity and despair, yet if you withhold it Imust return and tell her."
"But I love her," I said. "Surely I may know who she is, and why she ishaunted by this secret dread!"
For a few seconds he was silent. Then he tossed his cigar away with agesture of impatience.
"Time does not admit of argument. I have merely to apologise forbringing you down here to a fruitless appointment, and to wish yougood-evening," he said in a tone of mingled annoyance anddisappointment, as turning on his heel he walked away.
His words and manner aroused within me a sudden dislike, a curioushatred that I could not describe, yet ere he had gone a dozen paces Icried:
"Stop! I have reconsidered my decision. I must see her, for I promisedher assistance, and am ready to give it in whatever manner she desires."
"You know the conditions," he said, sauntering carelessly back to me,"Do you accept them absolutely?"
"Yes."
"Then swear."
He had drawn from his pocket a Testament, and held it towards me. Ihesitated.
"You may be tempted to break your word. You will never violate youroath," he added, in the same slow, deliberate tone in which he had firstaddressed me. Still I was not prepared for this strange proceeding, andnot until he urged me to hasten and declared that my oath wasimperative, did I move.
Taking the book, I slowly raised it until it touched my lips.
Next second I regretted my action. I had a vague, indefinable feelingthat I had subjected myself to him; that I had foolishly placed myselfunder his thrall.
Yet, as we walked together up the steep path and gained the Terrace, hechatted gayly upon various topics, and the strange presage of evil thatI had first experienced was soon succeeded by lively anticipations ofseeing once again the beautiful woman I adored.
In Hill Rise, close to that row of glaring new semi-aesthetic housesknown as Cardigan Gate, a neat brougham drawn by a magnificent pair ofbays was in waiting, and before we entered, the footman carefully drewdown the blinds, then saluted as he closed the door.
The interior of the carriage would have been dark had not a tinyglimmering lamp been placed there, and this showed that, in addition tothe blinds drawn down, heavy curtains had also been arranged, so that tosee outside was impossible. My strange companion was affable, evenamusing, but the drive occupied quite an hour and a half, although wetravelled at a pretty smart pace.
Presently my companion turned to me, saying: "There is still one smallthing more. Before we alight you must allow me to tie my handkerchiefacross your eyes."
"In order that I may not note the exterior of the house--eh?" Isuggested, laughing.
He nodded, and a strange cynical smile played upon his lips.
"Very well," I said. "It is useless, I suppose, to protest."
He did not answer, but folding a silk handkerchief he placed it over myeyes and tied it tightly at the back. Almost at the moment he hadcompleted this the conveyance stopped, the door was opened, and, led bymy mysterious companion, I alighted.
Taking his arm, we crossed the pavement and ascended a short flight ofsteps. There were three. I counted them. I could also hear the windin some trees, and found myself wondering whether we were in town orcountry.
A door opened, and we stepped into a hall, which, owing to the echo ofmy conductor's voice, I concluded was a spacious one, but ere I had timeto reflect, the man whose arm I held said:
"Just a moment. You must sign the visitors' book--it is the rule here.We'll excuse bad writing as you can't see," he added with a laugh.
At the same moment I felt a pen placed in my fingers by a man-servant,who guided my hand to the book. Then I hastily scrawled my name.
It was strange, I thought; but the events of the evening were all soextraordinary that there was nothing after all very unusual in signing avisitors' book.
Again he took my arm, leading me up a long flight of stairs, the carpetof which was so thick that our feet fell noiselessly. In the ascent Ifelt that the balustrade was cold and highly polished, like glass.Confused and mysterious whisperings sounded about me, and I feltconfident that I distinctly heard a woman's sob quite close to me, whileat the same moment a whiff of violets greeted my nostrils. Itsfragrance stirred my memory--it was Sybil's favourite perfume. Suddenlymy guide ushered me into a room and took the handkerchief from my eyes.The apartment was a small study, cozy and well furnished, with a brightfire burning in the grate, and lit only by a green-shaded reading-lamp.
"If you'll take off your overcoat and wait here a few moments I willbring her to you," he said; adding, "you can talk here