The Rhos Herald

-> r, [ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.] My Wife BY INA LEON CASSILIS, Author of Is She Guilty ?" Counsel for the Defence," "The World Against Her," &c. The train was just running out of Padding- ton Station when the door of the third-class compartment in which Nora Mornington sat alone was wrenched open, and a man sprang in. Instantly he turned to her and raised his hat, with an apology spoken in English, but with a slight i, eign accent. Then he sat down opposite, it not immediately opposite to her, and she ive him a quick survey. The train did not stop before Swindon, and a young woman likee to know what inanner of man it is with whom she is to travel some fifty miles or more. A gentleman —that was clear a tall man—perhaps five and thirty—slight in figure; in face hand- some, with fin-J cut features, very dark skin, and black hair and moustache; beard and whiskers non r.,(. He was well dressed, and in appearance generally somewhat foreign. His face, on the \vhol«, was reassuring; but a woman cannot stare at a man, so the survey was necessarily cursory. Nora looked down at her book again, and the dark eyes of the man opposite scanned IILT. She, too, was tall, and slenderly made a Lch-not more than two or three and twjULy pretty—no That was not the word the face was too expressive to be called pretty; the mouth at once sweet and firm, with curves that suggested a sense of humour. Her dress, too, came under obser- vation. It became her. or she became it- which was it? It did not suggest wealth; c'o but it wae, not poor or shabby. Bu.t she was travelling third class-she could not be rich.. Her hands were gloveless she wore no rings. He took off his hat, and leaned back, thiiik- ing, glancing from time to time at his com- panion, who, of course, took no notice of iiirn. The minutes sped, and so did the train. How could he open conversation. The young lady gave him no chance. He must plunge in medias res. He bent forward a little- M adeiiioiselle-pai-dori She looked up quickly, not alarmed, but watchful. He smiled-a smile that dispelled fear. "Do not be afraid," he said, "I am not malefactor-but I am in a desperate posi- tion. I think—you can help me-if you will." "In what way?" Nora asked, in extreme wonder. Was the man mad? she thought; but there was no sign of madness in the clear, dark eyes, the musical tones. Was he a criminal? He certainly did not look like one. "May I tell you?" )ge said, gently. "Yes." "Thank you. I am going to place—not my life, that, I hope, is not at stake, but my liberty, in your hands. I am English—at least on my father's side, but I have lived most of my, life abroad; the last year in Petersburg. My name is Lorraine—Vincent Lorraine. I have travelled a great deal; I have friends all over the world — among them men of mark in Poland. A little while ago a minister of police -—Lakaroff—was assassinated. Two of my friends were involved; I knew nothing of it, but I was supposed to share in the crime. That very night I had a message that my father down in Gloucestershire was dying. I fled from Russia, but I am pursued. Our English detectives are on my track; if they catch me I shall be dragged back to London, taken before the Extradition Court, There will be delay—and I may never see mv father alive." 'He paused. Nora was listening with inte- rest. The man might-be lying, but there was the impress of truth in words and manner. He went on: "They have a description of ma—not very perfect--I discovered that, and I am described as travelling alone. Besides, it is known in Petersburg that I am unmar ried. I only want tiuw-time to see my father; then I arnwilling to take my chance. This train stopr. at Swindon; the police will be warned. Will, perhaps, come to this car- riage. If they do-- He stopped again, biting his lip; his eyes drooped. Nora's cheek coloured; a vague dread possessed her. She almost held tier breath. Mademoiselle Lorraine said, not look- ing at her. "I will gladly give five hundred pounds for one word and for silence." "1 don't understand." Five hundred pounds! If he really meant that! Nora was poor—her sister, whom she kepi, an invalid. She could do wonders with such a sum but it was absurd. Lorraine spoke again. If they come—if they question—will you let me sav tliit,-tliat you are-iily wife?" "No, no 1" the girl cried, the colour ilam- ing to her brow. "Impossible! I couldn't do that!" "Forgive me!" LorrainS interposed. "It is too much to ask. I am a stranger to you. There is no time for credentials; besides, I understand. And how do you know I am tell- ing you a true story?" *'I don't doubt that," she said, deeply dis- tressed. "I don't doubt your good faith in any way. But if, after all, you were to be arrested? "You should not suffer; God forbid t I should say it was my -r-use—that you were a friend. Otherwise—whichever first leaves tli<S train we part; you give me an address which will find you. I remit to you; and we may never meet on this earth again. I do not ask your name—only where I shall send. If we should chance to meet-we are strangers." Nora turned her face to the window, and looked out at the flying landscape, seeing no- thing. The position appealed to her roman- tic teniperaiiietit-eveii to her sense of humour. There was something irresistibly comic in the idea; and the man impressed fcer with an absolute conviction of hi.1t loyalty. Then the bait—could she accept it? Yet in one way it made the transaction more possible—it reduced it to a purely business arrangement. Yet she could not but shrink from accepting payment under such circum- stances. For herself she would have declined, 6tit for Edie the money might work wonder* -afford her skilled treatment which had hitherto been unattainable give her change of air and scene; and all she had to do was to playa part for a few minutes. Even without the benefit to herself, she would have served her companion at little real cost to herself. They were not more than half an .b.&u.r from Swindon now. Nora turned ro>t»nsd, "I will do it," she said quietly, "How can I thank your Mademoiselle-?" His voice broke 'he turned aside for a moment; but, quickly recovering himself,. turned to her again. "And the address," he ■ssud. "You need not writ3 it-in case I am arrested. I shall remember." Miss. Nora Mornington, :t2, Place, Kensington." Thank you. I shall not forget." He did» | bo4 ask her if she had given her name but he glanced at her hand—her leit hand. She saw; and, colouring, caught up her glove. "No," said Lorraine, "this is better—if vou do not mind." He drew from his little finder a gold ring, and held it out to her, and she took it and slipped it on to her wedcLng finger, A swift thrill went through Vincent I Lorraine; but he leaned back ogam in silence. The train began to slow down. Is or si's heart beat fast; she glanced at her companion. He looked perfectly cool and un- concerned; he was evidently a man of strong will and strong nerve; there was no danger of his betraying himself by any appearance of flurry or excitement. He looked at the girl and saw that she, too, whatever she felt, seemed cool and unconcerned. lie smiled. ,.ood he said, half aloud; and she smiled too. The position seemed more endurable after that mutual recognition of its comedy. J "One moment," he said, quickly, "your de- j stiiiation?" "South Wableigh." I "Mine is the station this side." He was dis- tinctly relieved to find that, if all went well at Swindon, he would have the company of his "wife" for another ninety milee. As the train crept into the station, Lor- I raine moved up opposite to Nora, and looked unconcernedly out of the window. He saw, and she saw, a policeman, evidently on the watch, but his eye glanced carelessly past the functionary. Nora held her breath; yet her j face betrayed nothing. The train stopped; another moment and the policeman was at the carriage window. j "Bee pardon, sir, your name." Nora's amazed look at her "husband," and then at the constable, was a fine pieee of act- ing. Lorraine also looked astonished, but &wored :My name is Giulio Marotti." The policeman looked puzzled, and turned to Nora. "And the lady?" he said. "Ma cM? she is my wife." His accent was extremely foreign. The policeman's glance went down to her left hand, which lay on her knee. "MarrottyT" he repeated. "What country, Mir?, I "Roma ItaIi-, in Nora interposed, coming to the rescue of her "husband." "But what is the matter?" sho said, with a touch of in- dignation in her tone. "Why are we ques- tioned?" "I'm sorry, ma'am. I have an extradition warrant for the arrest of a gentleman named Lorraine, charge of murder in Russia,, and this gentleman answered to the description." "Lorraine? An Englishman?" "Yes, ma'am; but lived abroad, I believe. Thank you, sir, I am sorry to have inconveni- enced you and the lady; some mistake, evi- dently." "You do your duty!" said Lorraine, bow- ing with Italian urbanity. The constable saluted and stepped back, the late-comers hurried into the train, the guard waved his flag and shouted, "Right, forward and the train moved on. Lorraine drew a long deep breath of relief as the last carriages cleared the platform. Then he bent forward, his fine features quivering with emotion. "Mademoiselle," he said, with intense earnestness, "I can never thank you enough for your goodness. You went beyond your promise." A bargain is a bargain!" she answered, colouring; but her ;ips gave; her sense of humour mastered her: she laughed out- right. Lorraine laughed too. "You acted so well 1" lie said, at length, "and it was a near shave. I don't think a London detective would have been so easily satisfied. You see, they are watching on all the lines." After this they got on famously together. The only embarrassing moment was when Nora returned the "wedding" ring, which Lorraine received with a bow, and began to talk about something else. I:> He was a delightful companion; he seemed to Itave been all over the world, and the time sped only too fast, until his station—• East Abberleigh-was r; aelied. Lorraine, for his part, made a secret resolve that this good-bye should not be final. But he kept to the terms of the contract. "My station," he iaid, and rose. "Good- bye, Mademoiselle—and ouce more, thanks- I am eternally your debtor." He had not offered his hand, but Nora held cut hers, and for a moment it lay in his. "Good-bye," she said, "I hope you will find your fr>flier better." "You are very good. A rii,-ederla!" He stepped on the platform, raised his hat as the train went off, and Nora saw him no more. She did not suspect that the form of his last farewell was purposely chosen. Not adieu-good-bye, but—till we meet ° < • • again. Three days later Nora received a regis- tered letter addressed in an unknown mascu- line hand. Enclosed were bank notes for JB500. She understood and appreciated the fact which had sent notes instead of a cheque. Only a week afterwards Vincent Lorraine's ten minutes' "wife" read of his examination before the extradition court. He was described as a man of wealth, having estates in shire. Extradition was refused, as the charge was not proved—was, in fact, disproved, and IiQrraine was at liberty. » They came face to face on the parade at Bognor—Nora pushing the light invalid car- riage in which Edie reclined, Lorraine half paused—Nora stopped, and involuntarily held out her hand. "I am 39 pleased to meet you!" he said, smiling- He had been trying, for the last sevefi months, to do it! Nora introduced him to her sister, and he turned and walked by This "wife's" side ..long the parade. Edie Was much better -in answer to his inquiries; the doctors gave hopes of vast improvement, if not entire they had been at Bog- nor abopt a wepje, wd vonld remain some, weeks longer; the air seemed to suit Edie, and the tjaiefc. Then ho told he* his father was dead—"I wias in tijne," he said. "He died two days Inter. UI am so glad you were in time," Nora said, earnestly. "I saw all about the extra- dition in the papers." "And yon are satisfied I had no hand in the murder?" "Mr: Lorraine!" "You might have had doubts, I was some- times afraid." When the trip parted Lorraine asked if b-G. might call. N We shall be very pleased," said Nora; and she gave the address; And what name shall I ask for?" "Miss Mornington. Ah! I forgot." She flushed a little and laughed. "You did not know whether it was my real name or not, or fpygot it," "The fiifst," he said, "not the last." < "What a fascinating man!" said Edie, when Lojrrkino was gone, Nora agreed. She was distinctly pleased to have met iiim again, and the first, feeling of embarrassment speedily wore off. "I certainly feel grateful to him," she said, "on your account, Edie. I wonder what brought him to such a quiet place as Bognor." "He may have friends here." But that apparently was not the case. When Lorraine callcd, which he did the next day, he mentioned, incidentally, that lie .was alone. He was staying at an hotel on the sea front. After tea they all went out together. Lorraine pushed the chair; they stayed out in the moonlight until quite late,, and Lorraine sat by Nora and drank in draughts of won- drous sweetness; and so did she, only he knew it, and she, as yet, did not. What days of "golden prime" they were that followed! Vincent Lorraine was always with the two girls. He evidently did not find Bognor "dull." Edie smiled to herself, but said nothing. One lovely evening-he had scarcely seen them that day-he called in. Would they care to come out? "Not I," Edie answered, smiling. "I have been out all day. I am tired. But Nora can 0" g "Will she?" he asked, turning to her. She had no excuse that would not be transparent. So she put on her Tam-o'-Shanter and went. "Not the parade," said Lorraine. "There are so many people," and Nora let him lead the way; her conscience made her fear to object. They strolled on, past the pier, be- yond the end of the parade, to where there is only a broken pathway and perfect soli- tude. They talked as they went in desultory fashion; but presently, after a pause, Lor- raine stopped. "Shall we sit here for a little while?" h. said, indicating a grassy bank by the path. j If you like." They sat down side by side. Nera, with slightly averted head, stared out to sea Lor- raine's eyes were fixed on her face, and she knew it; but she dared not meet the look. Presently he said softly, and the very tone was a caress, "What are you thinking of?" "I don't know—that I was thinking of any- thing. I was; if that is thinking which is hav- ing one's whole being possessed by one thought—one presence." Her gloveless left hand lay on her knee he put his own on it, and now his voice trembled. "I was think- ing of-my wife." She had started under his touch; but otherwise did not move; and she now sat motionless, drawing her breath in slow throbs, the rich colour flooding cheek and brow. He went on, bending down a little. his clasp of the unresisting hand tightening; "When you gave me back that ring—pre- cious ring !-I have often kissed it!—I vow^-d that I would one day—if I could—persuade you to let me put it on again. And all these months I have been trying to find you. It wss chance—no, good Fortune, that flavoured me at last. My wife of ten minutes-" His arm was round her now, drawing her close to his breast. "Will you be my wife indeed- for lifa?" Was there any need for an answer in words, when she lifted her eyes to his and let him road her heart in them? Wxien she yielded her lips to his kisses, and clung about his neck? She was more than content now with tha solitude, and scarcely knew whether the lights of the town were shining or not. When Vincent Lorraine and Nora wars married, her wedding ring was that which she had worn that day as "Giulio Marotti's wife." She would have none other, though only one person besides hersslf and the bridegroom knew why.