shortly at St George's, Hanover Square."
Gilda read this announcement three times. The third time she threw thepaper on the floor and stamped upon it. Then, clutching her head withher hands, she sank on to a lounge and sobbed violently, exclaiming:
"What have I done to deserve this? Raife! Raife! You were the onlyone who could have saved me from this hideous nightmare, called life. Ihave lost you!" Her sobs choked further utterance, and she collapsed,huddled into a tangled mass of broken-hearted, crumpled womanhood.
Good, bad, or indifferent, Gilda Tempest had one affection which hadpenetrated her heart. Her love for Raife was sincere and with all thetemptestuous fury of a jealous woman she now hated Hilda Muirhead.
She hissed the words between her sobs, "Daughter of Reginald PomeroyMuirhead, President of the Fifth National Bank of Illinois! Why mustshe rob me of the only hope I had in life?" With a desperate effort sherose from the lounge and, straightening herself to her full height,staggered across the room to a full-length mirror, where she stoodrigidly glaring at her own presentment. The face that had been drawnbefore she had read the announcement in the _Morning Post_, was nowdistorted, and her beautiful hair was dishevelled. Tears streamed downher cheeks. Passion was written on the face that now showed lines,lines of rage and rebellion. "I will not obey any more! My life hasbeen a torture. I mutiny! I will win, or I will die!"
The door opened softly. Doctor Malsano stood there with folded arms,and in a still, soothing tone, he said, "Gilda, child. Come, tell mewhat is the meaning of this?"
Gilda turned on him with an expression fierce and defiant. For manyseconds neither spoke. Then, urbanely, the doctor murmured soothingly:"Come, Gilda! Let me help you in your trouble. What is the reason ofyour distress?"
The girl stood erect, throbbing with intense emotion. Again there was along silence. Then, bursting into sobs again, she pointed to thenewspaper and said, "Read that. See! See what you have done. You havemade me a robber, and now you have robbed me of the only desire I haveon earth. I will rob you now, for I will kill myself."
The doctor smiled and, crossing the room, picked up the paper. Then heapproached the girl and said suavely: "Show me, Gilda. What shall Iread?"
The girl seized the paper and pointed to the paragraph. He read it, andhis face momentarily lost its ingratiating expression, and he muttered,"Bah! that fool Lesigne." He recovered himself and led the girl to thelounge. Smoothing her hands and gazing earnestly into her eyes hetalked. "Gilda! this is unfortunate, and that fool Lesigne is to blame.He is not worth his money. I shall dispose of him if he is notcleverer. He has bungled more than once. I sent him to Cairo. Hisreport to me was incomplete. I did not know it was as bad as this.Gilda, I am your uncle, your guardian. We will alter this somehow.Child, go to sleep now. I will make my plans."
The mysterious power of this man had its influence. He left the room.Gilda, still sobbing but pacified, did the doctor's bidding and slept.
He went to his room and turned the key in the door. He flung himselfinto a chair and snatched a phial from a table at his side, drinking thefull contents. Every indication of benevolence had left his face, andnow it showed signs of torture. He cursed violently, murmuring: "Thatfool Lesigne! How shall I dispose of him? He bungled at Nice--atCuneo--at Hammersmith--now at Cairo. I must kill him somehow, for heknows too much." The drug now began to take effect and his featuresrelaxed. Just before sleep overtook him he muttered:
"She must avenge her father's death. The feud must be carried on. Iwill see to it to-morrow." The doctor slept peacefully in the deeprecess of the big arm-chair. The soft light of the solitary lampreflected from a distance on his face. There was a smile on his face.A close observer would have noticed that it was cruel--sardonic, andthat the breathing was stertorous.
When Raife, Mr Muirhead and Hilda arrived at Tunbridge Wells, theydecided that they should stroll through the town before driving toAldborough Park. It was morning-time. There was no hurry, and Hildahad never seen an old-world English town. They entered the motor-carwhich awaited them at the station and Raife ordered the chauffeur todrive to the "Blue Boar." On the way he said: "If you were English, Iwould not dare to do anything so unconventional as this, but I feel Iknow you will like it, and I want you to see one of our old-worldposting-houses. It is a fine type of an English inn."
When they pulled into the stable-yard and had dismounted, Hilda wascharmed with the quaintness of everything. Mr Twisegood had heardtheir arrival, and greeted them with all the pomp and ceremony at hiscommand. With the inevitable "Lud a mussy!" which was a prelude to mostof his speech, he said, "Why, Sir Raife, we've missed you this many along day; I'm sure, sir, as 'ow we welcomes you 'ome, sir."
Hilda, after the manner of American girls, walked "right in," and MrTwisegood had soon invited her to look over the house. Raife took MrMuirhead into the parlour, saying: "Now, sir, you have mixed somedelightful cocktails for me in Cairo; will you allow me to introduce toyou an old English coaching drink in an old English coaching andposting-house? Mary!"
In response to his call a rosy-cheeked, buxom maid appeared.
"Bring two glasses of sloe gin and put them in two of those old`rummers.' Bring me the bottle and I will pour them out," were Raife'sinstructions.
There was no time to contrast the merits of sloe gin with cocktails, forHilda's voice was heard from the top of the staircase. "Father, oh, docome! Here's the sweetest old room I ever saw. It's all white, andsmells of lavender."
They climbed the staircase and entered the room. Whilst they wereadmiring the whiteness and the quaintness of it, Raife's mind wascharged with the memory of the last occasion when he had been there, andof other curious occasions. He remembered his meeting there with GildaTempest, dressed as a hospital nurse; his mother outside the door andGilda escaping by the secret staircase to the loose box in the stablebelow. Altogether he was sorry he had brought them to the "Blue Boar."He crossed the room and looked through the latticed window into thestable-yard. Another car had arrived, and the chauffeur was juststarting under the archway. The sight of that chauffeur was strangelyreminiscent. His coat was open and betrayed a loose, flowing blacknecktie. Was it possible--could it be that infernal Apache fellow?What was he doing there? Was there no rest from this vigilant spectrewho traced him everywhere?
Raife was maddened with the combination of incidents which had spoilthis return to Aldborough Park with his fiancee. Making an excuse toleave the room, he ran downstairs, and, hastily swallowing a full glassof the abandoned sloe gin, he went into the yard and asked thechauffeur: "Did you see the number of that car that was here just now?"
"No, sir," came from the man.
He found the solitary ostler and asked him whether he knew the car oranything about it. The man had been feeding the horse in the loose boxand had not seen the car.
Raife was a good-tempered man, but he was morose for a while. After thedisconcerting incident of the stable-yard, and the somewhat mixedrecollections caused by the visit to the white room, Raife decided thatit was best to drive straight to Aldborough Park, and postpone thestroll through the town. As they drove, the apparition of Gilda Tempestin the garb of a hospital nurse, yielding to his caresses in the whiteroom, haunted his mind. He had waived aside the Apache spectre. Hecould fight him, but he could not fight this apparition.
Hilda Muirhead sat opposite to him. Presently she said: "You looktroubled, Raife. Has anything real serious happened?"
Raife forced a smile, and answered cheerily: "No, my dear! I've got abit of a headache. One isn't used to trains after the quietude of thedesert."
Then anent nothing, which was not her wont, Hilda added. "Oh, say!Raife. After you had left the queer white room I discovered a littledoor behind a curtain. It wasn't a cupboard. I'm sure it ledsomewhere. It looked so cunning and mysterious. Do tell me where itleads to."
This was the door of the narrow staircase leading to the loose box inthe sta
ble, through which Gilda Tempest had escaped when Lady Remingtonwas about to enter the room. Raife winced at the question. The sweetyoung face of his fiancee opposite contrasted strangely with the face ofGilda, whom he had taught himself to hate. He replied: "Yes. There isa staircase there. I'll show it to you some day, perhaps." The lastword qualified the promise, for he had no intention of showing it toher.
The handsome and silent-running Rolls-Royce car sped merrily over thesmooth roads up and down the Kentish hills--the roads of "the garden ofEngland," and it was spring time. The sun of an English spring day isnot as the sun of the Egyptian desert, but it is sufficient to revealthe tender buds and dainty blossom of the hedgerow. As they spedthrough the narrow