THE GRIP OF GOLD.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXX, Issue 3570, 9 July 1912, Page 3

THE GRIP OF GOLD.

By ROBERT HALIFAX. (Author of “The Drums of Fate,” “The House of Horror,” “A Woman in Their Web,” “Law Society,” ect„ etc.)

(Copyright—All Rights Reserved.)

' CHAPTER XII. \ SO SORRY!

Up over the sea. and the woods a clear, glorious moon had just swung, like- a- questioning eye. It threw quivering patches of silver lacv-work across the lawn- . It steeped in 'soft light Sheba’s figure, motionless, there on ihe gravel sweep.

She was waiting; waiting for something to which she con]cl give no name. She had- lost touch with actuality that night. She seemed to he»moving in a mist. She knew simply that Mrs Saxon had touched her arm, whispered something anxiously, and pointed to the open hall door- All the world around seemed to be waiting and listening with her. Her had passed. She could look calmly all about her—anywhere but up at ha windows or that northern corridor. She aright never sea Felooto and the Manor House again just as they looked to-night. •" There was the sun dial, that he Had ed or noticed stood out now with coinpalling. significance. Love ? Nono; not that! Net the lave that a man asks of a woman !

There was the sundial, that ha had pronounced more wonderful and trustworthy than any clock in creation. There was the boxwood border that he- had designed—a square rampart of dark green studded every here and there with some grotesque protuberance. And away behind, at the end of the lawn, lay the entrance to his privet maze —that work of monumental patience and ingenuity which had cost two whole years to construct and four more to mature- Anyone was at liberty now to try the paths, he had said; hut he did not guarantee a safe exit; and no words from his lips could have been more effective in causing the household to give it a wide boith. To Sheba its mystery had never appealed. She had intuitively divined his real thoughts—arid that was enough. She was moving mechanically down the drive. Someone had lit the red lamp over the lodge gates, and it showed her the new almost inevitable knot of watchers bunched there to speculate in whispers and await the latest item of news. The dying man’s rugged personality- had thrown a halo of fascination about him which no ordinary popularity could have won him. Quito possibly, too. the recollection suddenly thrilled through Sheba, nows of the latest development had already flown on wings.

It had! Just as she turned, a low basket-chaise had rolled rapidly round the bend. The pony reared; the crowd melted reluctantly back. Sheba realised, and shrank; but it was a moment too late—as the owner of that bell-like, deliberate voice meant it to bo.

“Blanche, Ionic!” it ran cut throng!) the stillness. “The.’coincidence of it —-'when her name was upon our lips ! Miss St. John—Sheba! Darling, what is it? —your face is like marble in this moonlight- We cannot rest —all these reports flying about!” “Is that so?” Sheba raid, steadily. That was all. She stood calm, almost cold in'her queenlineso. Until just lately the Barringtons of the Hall had driven by in freezing, silence. The master of the Manor House himself had returned it with his inscrutable stare; hence they had perforce to revenge themselves in covert sneers and hints levelled at lus wal'dAnd a woman’s tongue may cut more deeply than any knife. They were strikingly alike, these two l sisters—both tall, imperious, with red-brown eyes, and coiled masses of chestnut hair. But it was Carlotta who bad the ready tongue and silver voice, and Blanche who tittered icily at her sister’s barbed sallies. It was Carlotta who leaned out with the concentrated, pitying breath.

“Believe me dear, you have our utter sympathy this night. Nothing so cruelly 'unexpected could ever have happened yet! We have just heard ; cur groom was at the railway station, and saw him drive up here im the flly at a breakneck gallop. It made me shudder. I detest foreigners of every sort—one nearly persuaded me to marry him once- It reads more like the last page of a. novel; the shock must have been ghastly. What can you do? What do they think will happen?” A pause. She.turned to Blanche with the audible whisper—• “she doesn’t see my meaning!”

“I do not.” Sheba’s pale lips did not tremble. She did not seem to have heard all. “Of whom arc you speaking?”

“Sheba, dear ! It is known all over the place by now. Wo can t help realising—on your account. -Whatever can ho be like? Some say ho was fatefully dark «mT -sardonic, some are saying exactly tjre reverse. i < u could not stay 'in the house. Or course you will hardly—l mean, as a seif-resepoteing woman with a reputation to guard, above all things, you will not darq. to remain there a minute longer than is absolutely necessary. Of course! / And Sheba caught her jmcatli sharply. They watched intently. She would give a moan— the unnatural

calm would fall away from her. They say a faint smile dawn instead. They mentally set her down as an actress of-genius unsuspected until to-night — too clever to betray her woman’s thoughts. Carlotta could have cut at her with' the whip as she stood there so still, and hid the fact with a caressing little laugh.

% “So glad; you didn’t do anything tragic or precipitate, dear. We fully expected to hear that you drove away from the -place as he entered it. So many women of spirit and pride in your place would feel that fate had dealt them a shameful blow. Just think- One hour ago, one might say, you had every reasonable expectation of being a rich woman for life. Now,, with all due ( respect for poor Mr. Loder’s eccentrr ities, you can scarcely anticipate mere than a bequest of a hundred or so—can you, dear?”

Still no answer. The full, pansysoft eyes' looked past them, seeming to see something in the blue-black haze -that no one else could see. Carlotta picked out another venomed arrow from her store.

“I was half in hopes wo might be in time to catch a glimpse of him—on your account. I can generally read a man at a glame. Is lie really a nephew ? You know what the world is ! Is—he—is he up. there with Mr jyjdcr now? Does Dr. Lancing know? To think of bis. springing to life in the. very last hour! Your awkward position this flight, too ! In your place I should feel like refusing to see him. Shall you do- that? Whatever will you answer when he says, ‘Well, Miss St. John, I’m awfully cut up, but the house must be sold’— or something like that? Because ho is sure to turn out a melodramatic spendthrift of a man. The Loder blood is in him !" A site new. Then Sheba stirred. ■’£s that all you came to say?’’ she asked in a quiet little voice. “If so, I’ll wish you good-night.” Tho red-brown eves flamed. For a moment it looked as if the- curling whip must swish down. But there were more days —more developments —better opportunities—to dawn yet. Carlotta Barrington recollected it Her pony’s back took tho cut. Rich and bell-like her laugh trilled out, as tho low chaise rolled away. ‘‘Good-night, darling! Cfocd-nighl —and perhaps good-bye, eh ? So sorry !”

(.To be continued daily.)