endeavoured to persuade him to remain until themorning, but he received a letter by the afternoon post making itimperative that he should return to London. But he says he will be backagain either on Monday or Tuesday."
"I do hope he will return," observed some one at the end of the table,and then the subject dropped. When the ladies had left the room SirHenry remarked--"Queer fellow, Ashwicke--a bit eccentric, I alwaysthink. His movements are most erratic--a regular rolling stone."
I embraced that opportunity to inquire regarding his antecedents, but myhost appeared to know very little beyond the fact that he was wealthy,good company, a keen sportsman, and moved in a very smart set in town.
"I've known him a couple of years or so; he's a member of my club," headded. "My wife declares that none of the parties are complete withouthim."
"Do you know his friend, Tattersett--Major Tattersett?"
"No," responded Sir Henry; "never met him." With the others I wentalong to the drawing-room and found Beryl alone in a cozy corner,obviously awaiting me. She twisted a lace scarf about her shoulders andwe strolled out upon the terrace, as was our habit each evening if fineand starlight. When we had gained the further end she suddenly halted,and turning to me said, in a low, husky voice that trembled withemotion--
"Doctor Colkirk, you have deceived me!"
"Deceived you, Miss Wynd?" I exclaimed, taken completely aback by herallegation. "How?"
"I know the truth--a truth that you cannot deny. I--I am your wife."
"I do not seek to deny it," I answered in deep, solemn earnestness,taking her small white hand in mine. "It is true, Beryl, that you aremy wife--true also that I love you."
"But it cannot be possible!" she gasped. "I knew that I was a wife, butnever dreamed that you were actually my husband."
"And how did you discover it?"
"I was down by the waterside this evening, before dinner, and overheardyour conversation with Mr Ashwicke."
"All of it?"
"Yes, all of it. I know that I am your wife;" and she sighed, while herlittle hand trembled within mine.
"I love you, Beryl," I said, simply and earnestly. "I have known allalong that you are my wife, yet I dared not tell you so, being unable tooffer sufficient proof of it and unable to convince you of my affection.Yet, in these few weeks that have passed, you have surely seen that Iam devoted to you--that I love you with a strange and deeper love thanever man has borne within his heart. A thousand times I have longed totell you this, but have always feared to do so. The truth is that youare my wife--my adored."
Her hand tightened upon mine, and unable to restrain her emotionsfurther, she burst into tears.
"Tell me, darling," I whispered into her car--"tell me that you will tryto love me now that you know the truth. Tell me that you forgive me forkeeping the secret until now, for, as I will show you, it was entirelyin our mutual interests. We have both been victims of a vile andwidespread conspiracy, therefore we must unite our efforts to combat thevengeance of our enemies. Tell me that you will try and love me--nay,that you do love me a little. Give me hope, darling, and let us acttogether as man and wife."
"But it is so sudden," she faltered. "I hardly know my own feelings."
"You know whether you love me, or whether you hate me," I said, placingmy hand around her slim waist and drawing her towards me.
"No," she responded in a low voice, "I do not hate you. How could I?"
"Then you love me--you really love me, after all!" I cried joyously.
For answer she burst again into a flood of tears, and I, with madpassion, covered her white brow with hot kisses while she clung to me--my love, my wife.
Ah! when I reflect upon the ecstasy of those moments--how I kissed hersweet lips, and she, in return, responded to my tender caresses, how sheclung to me as though shrinking in fear from the world about her, howher heart beat quickly in unison with my own, I feel that I cannotproperly convey here a sufficient sense of my wild delight. It isenough to say that in those tender moments I knew that I had won themost beautiful and graceful woman I had ever beheld--a woman who waspeerless above all--and that she was already my wife. The man who readsthis narrative, and whose own love has been reciprocated after longwaiting, as mine has been, can alone understand the blissful happinessthat came to me and the complete joy that filled my heart.
We stood lost in the ecstasies of each other's love, heedless of time,heedless of those who might discover us, heedless of everything. Theremembrance of that hour remains with me to-day like a pleasant dream, aforetaste of the bliss of paradise.
Many were the questions that I asked and answered, many our declarationsof affection and of fidelity. Our marriage had been made by falsecontract on that fateful day, months before, but that night, beneath theshining stars, we exchanged solemn vows before God as man and wife.
I endeavoured to obtain from her some facts regarding Ashwicke and hisaccomplice, Tattersett, but what she knew seemed very unsatisfactory. Irelated to her the whole of the curious circumstances of our marriage,just as I have recounted it in the opening chapters of my narrative,seeking neither to suppress nor exaggerate any of the singularincidents.
Then, at last, she made confession--a strange amazing confession whichheld me dumb.
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.
PUT TO THE TEST.
"I remember very little of the events of that day," my love said, withsome reluctance. "I know Ashwicke, he having been a guest here lastyear, and a frequent visitor at Gloucester Square. With Nora and SirHenry I returned to London in early May, after wintering in Florence,and one morning at the end of June I met Major Tattersett unexpectedlyin the Burlington. He told me that his sister and niece from Scotlandwere visiting him at his house in Queen's-gate Gardens, and invited meto call and make their acquaintance."
"Had you never been to his house previously?"
"Never. He, however, gave me an invitation to luncheon for thetwenty-fourth of July, which I accepted. On arrival I found the Major;his sister and his niece were out shopping, therefore I sat aloneawaiting them in the drawing-room, when of a sudden I experienced forthe first time that curious sensation of being frozen. I tried to move,but was unable. I cried out for help, but no one came. My limbs werestiff and rigid as though I were struck by paralysis, while the pain wasexcruciating. I fought against unconsciousness, but my last clearrecollection of those agonising moments was of an indistinct, sinisterface peering into mine. All then became strangely distorted. Thebalance of my brain became inverted and I lost my will-power, beingabsolutely helpless in the hands of those who directed my movements. Icould not hold back, for all my actions were mechanical, obeying thosearound me. I remember being dressed for the wedding, the journey to thechurch, my meeting with my future husband--whose face, however, I wasunable to afterwards recall--the service, and the return. Then came aperfect blank."
"And afterwards?"
"Night had fallen when I returned to my senses, and the strangesensation of intense cold generally left me. I looked around, and, tomy amazement, saw the pale moon high in the sky. My head was restingupon something hard, which I gradually made out to be a wooden seat.Then, when I sat up, I became aware of the bewildering truth--that I waslying upon one of the seats in Hyde Park."
"In Hyde Park? And you had been placed there while in a state ofunconsciousness?"
"Yes. Upon my finger I found a wedding-ring. Was it possible, Iwondered, that I was actually married to some unknown man?"
"You saw nothing of Ashwicke?"
"I saw no one except the maid-servant who showed me into thedrawing-room, and cannot in the least account for the strange sensationwhich held me helpless in the hands of my enemies. I saw the man Imarried at the church, but so mistily that I did not recognise you whenwe met again."
"But you knew the house in Queen's-gate Gardens. Did you not afterwardsreturn there, and seek an explanation of Tattersett?"
"On discovering my whereabouts I rose and walke
d across the park toGloucester Square. It was then nearly one o'clock in the morning, butNora was sitting up in anxiety as to what had become of me. I had,however, taken the ring from my finger, and to her told a fictitiousstory to account for my tardy return. Two days later I returned to thehouse to which Tattersett had invited me, but on inquiry found, to myamazement, that it was really occupied by a lady named Stentiford, whowas abroad, while the man left in charge knew nothing whatever either ofthe Major or of his sister and niece. I told him how I had visitedthere two days previously, but he laughed incredulously; and when Iasked for the maid-servant who had admitted me, he said that no maid hadbeen left there by Mrs Stentiford. In prosecution of my inquiries Isought to discover