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(Copyright in U.S. America. All Rights Reserved). AT THE CALL OF HONOUR BY I ARTHUR W. MARCHMONT, Author of Sir Gregory's Silence." The Man w:.Q was Dead." &c. CHAPTER XXVI. I FREED FliOM BONDAGE. I Dear Mr. Anstable,-I have called I onee this evening, and am writing this in case I fail to find you on my second visit. I am well aware that you were greatly surprised to hear that the lady you are to I marry, "Miss Helen Armstrong," and I were acquainted with one another before you introduced me to her that afternoon in Bond Street. As a matter of fact, we were very old friends indeed, and some years ago I asked her to become my wife. 1 was not much of a man at the time, and she refused me. She had every right to do that, of course, and also every right to follow up her refusal by marrying someone p]h.—a man who at the time professed to be my friend, John Whitaker. He deceived her grossly about his means, made her life utterly wretched, and after a short time deserted her and led her to suppose that he was dead. In order to obtain another ¡. situation as a governess she went back to her own name, and for some years I heard nothing of her. In the meantime I ran across Whitaker in Paris. Drink, dissipation, general black- guardism, aud illness had broken him dov. n completely, and he lingered on a few months until he died some three months ago. I made all the efforts I could to find his widow and let her know that she was really free. I was very hard up at the time, and could therefore do little, and ray efforts were useless until by the merest chance I met her with you that- afternoon. Her request that I should be introduced was followed, if you remember, by a fLÜe- ment of the circumstanecs of her ergage- ment to you, and I found myself in a very awkward position. A man is scarcely likely to keep all his illusions through such a life I had fived, but at the eight of her my old feelings were revived. I then came into mone* y, and as I believe she had cared for me in the old days the desire to make her my wife became even stronger than be- fore. "i'l have seen her two or three time; lately, and asked her to marry me. Then I learnt the peculiar conditions of Sir James Anstable's will, and saw, of course, that as Whitaker was alive for some time after Sir James's death she was not in s position to comply with the conditions. Her reply, when I pointed out this to her, .was that your marriage was one of mutual affection; that she had acted in ignorance of her real position that the marriage would take place just the same, and that she would tell you exactly what had occurred. I admit I had no right to in- terfere any further-I have none now-but I insisted upon your being told, and wrote to you myself. I have in this no dishonourable motive and no desire to appear to harass either you or Mrs. Whitaker. A single word from you that you know the facts I have dis- I closed will cause me never to seek to tiee I either you or her again. But I cannot abandon what is now the greatest desire of my life without this last attempt to realise it. I enclose you a Somerset House copy of Wliitaker's death certificate, as well as one of the marriage. The letter destroyed all Ralph's desire for sleep. The knowledge of his freedom was an unutterable relief, but his delight was not without a canker of bitterness. He was Irf', but the knowledge had come to him at the very moment when Rita was lest to him. If she was in the hands of Drasili and his agents ho might never see her again, while even if he succeeded in rescuing her it would only be to see her married to Stephen. He fell asleep in the early hours of the morning, and was roused by Dr. Cotterell. who came to say that Stephen had recovered consciousness and had asked for him. Ralph dressed quickly and went to Stephen, who was still faint and weak and feverish from his grim experiences at the hands of Marini and his associates. "The doctor has told me all you did for I me. Ralph. I want to thank v "That's all right, but how did you get into I the mess? "I don't know," he replied, shaking his head dolefully. You know you made me I promise to go home. Well, 1 didn't suppose it was as serious as all that. I thought you were rather trying to frighten me a bit be- 1 cause of—well, you know." "You mean because of Rita Bishop? And yet I told you everything about her." "Ye,i, I know. But I-I thought you had some other motive." Where did you go when you left the Temple?" "To a music-hall. I met one or two pais, and one or two others joined us, and we had some drinks, and I don't remember anything more until I woke up the next morning and found Blackmore sitting by the side of the bud. "Did they ill-treat you?" "Not then. But as I lay there I remem. b t m! what you had told me, and when they I if-ft me alone I got up to dress myself and Tound my clothes were taken away. That frightened me, but I didn't know what to do. At last I determined to try and make a bolt of it just as I wae. But they were on the look-out, and Marini and Blackmore stopped me. They said they were glad I was well enough to leave the house, and brought mv clothes in and let me dress. Then they began to question me about my being Count Stefano Rossi, about you and Helen Arm- strong, and then where Miss Rita Bishop was, and-" "What time was that, Stephen?" inter- posed Ralph quickly. "I should think about ten o'clock." "You did not tell them anything about her? "Not at first. I pretended not to know anything, but they—they forced it out of me at last. They tortured me, Ralph, literally tortured me. and Marini said he would kill nie if I didn't tell him. And they lugged me down to another room with a coffin in it, and said it was for me. Then they strapped me down on a narrow table, and I had to tell them all I knew. Then they forced some- thing down my throat, and I don't know any more. '•That's hew they learnt where to find her, then!" exclaimed Italpli. "You saved your- self all right—though it was a near squeak— but you've put Miss Bishop into their hands." "You don't mean that she's in the power of those devilt,? "You gave them the address in Drayton Gardens, I suppose?" "I had to; they were killing me." "And they sent off straight awav and tricked her. You ought to have let' them burn your tongue out before you were such a coward as to betray hr." "'Iney were killing inc, I tell you, killing me," whined Stephen. Then he broke down and burst into tears, and Dr. Cotterell signed to Ralph not to say any more. lie drew the doctor aside. "Jivst one question. Did you find any marks on him of the ill-treatment lie mentions?" "I can't say I did." I thought ns much. They ptayed on his fears, the infernal coward!" exclaimed Ralph in contemptuous indignation. "If I'd known that last night they might have taken him to blazes before I'd have interfered. But it's too late now. How is Blackmore, doctor? Is there any chance of my being able to interview him soon? I'm on fire with impatience." I Dr. Cotterell shook his head. I'm afraid it's no use, but we can see." They went to Blackmore's bedside, and Ralph endeavoured to question him, but without result. The doctor said he was too ill to understand, while Ralph set it down to obstinacy. But, whatever the cause, the result was the same, and with & promise from Dr. Cotterell to let him know the in- stant Blackmore was able to be questioned Ralph had a short interview with Colonel Bishop, and then drove to his chambers. When he reached the Temple he found the police there and Denton in a state of great excitement. A most determined attempt had been made to break into the chambers during the early hours of the morn- ing. "I sat up, sir, after what you said," ex- plained Denton, "and left the door of your room open. I suppose I got drowsy, and must have dropped off, but it was only a cat's sleep, for a very slight noise woke me. It came from your room, and at first I couldn't make it out. Then I thought it was rats gnawing at the skirting board, but I found out it was the working 11 of a small fret saw, and that someone was cutting a hole in the shutter of the side window. It gave me the creeps a bit for a moment, but I had the revolver and told myself not to be a fool of a coward. So I let them go on. They worked very cautiously. A few thrusts of the saw, then a pause to listen; then a few more thrusts until the job was finished. Scarcely a bit of noise. I thought the bit they cut out would fall inside, but they had driven a screw in to hold it by. The sergeant has it, sir. You can see where it fits the hole." The policeman showed it to Ralph. "We found this on the roof below the window here," he said. "I see. Well, what next?" "Tnev knew their book all right," con- tinued Denton. "They must have had a careful squint at the fastening of the shutter, for they cut the hole just where they could put an arm through and undo it. I saw a hand come through and feel the fastening, but instead of undoing it directly the man who had made the hole drew his hand out, and I heard him go down the ladder. Some whispering followed, and then someone climbed up again. It wasn't the same hand that came through then, for the man felt all about for the fastening instead of going straight to it. But he found it at last, and undid it, and as he lifted the shutter out of its place to let it glide to the floor I had a good look at him. I recognised him at once. It was that dark Italian who came here one morning with a Mr. Simpson." "Marini!" exclaimed Ralph under his breath. "I remember, Count Boeelli," he Raid aloud, and the police sergeant made a note of the name. As he was stretching forward to lower the shutter the pocket of his jacket dropped over the sill, and there was something very heavy in it, which bumped against the wood. I guessed it was a revolver, and it gave me too much of a turn to wait any longer. I'm not much of a shot, sir, so I played him a sort of trick. I let fly at him, called out your name, and jumped across to a different spot and let fly again, so that he should think there were two of us. He let the shutter drop at my first shot, and began to pull out his own pistol. He was much cooler than I was. But the second shot from a different place shook him up. He fired at random, and paused as if hesitating whether to climb in even then. I was properly scared then, sir, so I let him have a third shot, and stood ready to bolt out of the chambers. But it seems that I hit him that time, although I didn't know it. He rapped out an oath and slipped down the ladder. I ran to the window and yelled police and thieves, and a lot of windows went up to learn the cause of the racket; and presently the night porter came up with the police." "We found stains of blood on the roof below, Mr. Anstable, at the foot of a ladder, and traced them to the trap-door of the next building; and we also picked up this," and the sergeant produced a small box containing two phials of liquid. Anxious to get rid of the police, Ralph gave them a close description of Marini and Gotto, and promised to afford any further information which would throw light on the matter. But he deemed it better not to say anything about the reasons which lay behind the attempt, and sent them away with in- structions to find out all they could about the tenant of the adjoining chambers. Then, having learnt from Denton that Harefield had neither been nor telephoned, Ralph sat down to write the letters to Helen and Gascoyne. But he had scarcely started when he was interrupted. The police returned, bringing with them a shabbily dressed Italian, whose dark features were almost livid with rage. "We want to know if you recognise this man, Mr. Anstable," said the sergeant. "We found him loitering about outside the door- way of this building, and when we ques- tioned him he said he was looking for your, chambers. "It is a monstrous abominable outrage ——" began the man, when the sergeant silenced him. No, I don't know him. I never saw him before," said Ralph. "I thought as much. We'll take him on suspicion and make inquiries." "I have explained," cried the man furi- ously. "I am Major Torosto, and have most important private business with Mr. An- stable. He knows my name, I tell you. This is an outrage." "He may know your name all right, but he doesn't know you," said the sergeant. You'd better come without making trouble. "Wait a moment, sergeant. There may be a mistake. I am expecting a Major Torosto, bul-" He finished the sentence with a very doubtful glance at the stranger's coa- i tumc. "I can explain mv dress, Mr. Anstable, and enable you to identify me if you will come to our Embassy. I am a personal friend of our Ambassador." | "Yes, you look it," put in the sergeant duly. "There may be more in this than you quite understand, sergeant," said Ralph. "Leave us together, please, and wait a few moments." "You'd better let me search him first, air." "I think I can look after myself, thank you." said Ralph with a smile. The man was but little over five feet in height and very feeble-looking. "Leave us, please." The sergeant went away reluctantly, and Iblph turned to the Italian. "Thank you, Mr. Anstable," he said with an intense sigh of relief as he sank into a chair. "Of course I am Major Torosto." You were to bring me a letter of autho- rity." I "From His Highness. I know. It was stolen from me just before I reached Paris. I was robbed of everything—money, clothes, passport, everything but my ticket. The train had a slight breakdown in the night, and I foolishly got out to see what was the matter. I was seized in the dark, carried off and made a prisoner in a peasant's cot- tage, and only escaped in this garb last night. I reached London this morning, and ",as looking for you when, as a last outrage, your police seized me as a suspect. But the people at our Embassy will satisfy you that I am indeed Major Torosto. I beg you to take me there at once, for I am penniless and almost starving." "I am quite disposed to believe you," said Ralph after a pause. "But if I ask for corroboration I have strong reasons," and he told of his experiences at Curzon Street. "I suggest that you go with my servant and the sergeant to the Embassy. is was readily agreed to, and Ralph plained the matter to the others. j I A. Harefield is here, sir," said Denton as he was leaving. I "Thank Heaven!" exclaimed Ralph, eager for news of Rita. "Send him in at once, and look sharp back, Denton; I may want you." I CHAPTER XXVL THE OWNER OF CAR NO. 33.518. .We.ll, Harefield, what's vour news?" asked Ralph eagerly, as the private detective entered. "Very little, I'm afraid, Mr. Anstable." "Have you traced that motor number?" "Not with much result, I'm sorry to say. The owner is a Mr. George Jackson, of the Albany. I looked him up at once, but his chambers are shut up, and the porter told me he was on the Continent." "Can't you find him by wire?" I "I thought of that, of course, but no one knows precisely where he is. They heard labt from Cairo; but that was nearly a month, ago, and he said his letters were to be sent there to Shepherd's Hotel to wait for him. Ee was going up the Nile." Where did he keep 11:3 car?" "In a private garage in a mews near St. James's Square. I went there, but it's shut up, and I could find out nothing about it. I've been on the job since eight o'clock this morning, and all I can hear is that the garage is empty. I expect he sold the ear before he left town, and the new owner hasn't had the register altered." Ralph's face fell at the bad news. It had been at best little more than a forlorn hope, but it had offered a slight chance of tracing Rita, and the failure was a crushing disap- pointment. Until Blackmore rcoovend suffi- ciently to be forced to speak nothing could be done. The inability to do anything at such a crisis galled him intolerably. Inaction at a time when even hours might be of vital im- portance was maddening. Harefield was only a little less alarmed than Ralph. He suggested that a watch should be set upon the Ciirzon Street house. It was just possible that some one of Drasili's people might re- turn there, in which case thev could be shadowed. W But when Ralph told him of Marini's at- tempt upon the chambers the detective jumped up excitedly. "Don't you see what that means, Mr. Anstal),e" Depend upon it, he came in the hope of finding some letter or something which would tell him how to get at Miss Bishop. I expect they sent to Dray- ton Gardens after she'd gone." "It's much more probable that he came to square accounts with me," said Ralph. "I doubt it, sir, I doubt it. They're not out for any mere revenge, and he'd know it was too late to silence you." "I wish to Heaven I could think you're right, but he knew early enough in the day to have carried out the plan against Miss Bishop. Besides, who else could do it? "I don't know that yet, of course, an- swered Harefield, and they were deep in the discussion of the matter and of the steps to be taken when Major Torosto returned, bringing a letter from the Embassy which clearly established his identity. Ralph told him about Rita's disappearance, and as a first step Harefield was sent off to see Colonel Bishop and obtain a photograph of Rita in order that it might be circulated eniong the police at all the Channel ports, j with the necessary instructions. ) "It is most disastrous. Mr. Anstable. that this should have been allowed to occur," ex- claimed Torosto in a tone which implied no liu'e censure of Ralph. "A very little pre- caution should have made such a thing im- possible." "Vou think I am to blame, then?" said Ralph, with a sharp note of irritation. "lli Highness trusted to you, sir. You knew the vital importance of this alliance, and I think you could certainly have pre- vented this disaster." "If you knew all the anxiety which this affair lias cost me you would scarcely use that tone. Major Torosto." "You do not appeer to me to have been very anxious for the Countess Darla's safety. "I would have run any risk to save her, Major Torosto, and I would cheerfully hftXatd my life at this moment for her. n:>1r.h said thi£ with such intense earnestness that the Italian started and looked at him very fearchingly. Vou appear to speak at the bidding of very (strong personal feelings, he replied drily. "Yes. I feel every whit as strongly as my words suggest." Torosto L paused. "Perhaps I had better ask what that means, Mr. Anstable. We sjxro.k within these four walls, of course. You have probably seen a good deal of the Coun- She is, I believe, a young lady of great charm of character and of great beauty. I invite your confidence." "I have no hesitation in declaring that- I admire her immensely." so id Ralph, feeling his face flush slightly under the keen scrutiny. Toronto coughed, pursed his lips, and raised hi eyebrows. "This is most unex- pected," he said. speaking with great de- liberation. "I must ask you if you have told me everything you know concerning her tlis- appearance. Your words are dangerously Doar to an insult, Major Torosto," said Ralph, represa- iii# his anger with difficulty. "I am only inviting you to give me the true reason for her Excellency's disappearance, Mr. Anstable." This was said with all the deliberate emphasis of an accusation. "I will do that, sir. It was arranged that Phe should go down with me to my father's I house at Darlingham yesterday afternoon, and I should have taken her down there had I I not been at that time shut up in Baron Drasili's house in Curzon Street. This will chow vou. therefore, that her disappearance is in reality due, more than anything else. to your own negligence in allowing yourself to be robbed of the Prince's letter of authority, which enabled Drasili to personate you. The hlamo for all this lies with you, not with me. sir, and unless you wish to force a quarrel upon me you will be so good as not again to cast any doubt on my word." "I meant no offence, I assure you." "Then put a more careful guard upon your tongue, sir." "I offer you my apology, Mr. Anstable. I am now old enough to know the world and old enough to have seen much of the ways of my own young countrymen and women under the influence of strong passions. Frankly, I am not sure I should have blamed either of you had your answer been different. But I accept your assurance absolutely." As he was speaking Denton entered to say that Helen was waiting to see Ralph, and he sent out word that he could not see her, but would write. "I will not detain you longer now, Mr. An- stable," said Torosto, rising. "I shall stay at the Carlton Hotel, and I hope you will keep me informed of everything you learn. I also shall take vigorous measures after con- sulting with my friends at our Legation. I shall see Count Stefano, of course. And now, 1 trust, after my assurance, that I shall have your hearty co-operation." "Must certainly. I shall not leave a stone unturned to find Miss Bishop—the Countess Darla, I mean. I am accustomed to think and speak of her as Miss Bishop." "Don't be offended if I suggest it would be better perhaps to think of her as the Countess Darla. the affianced wife of Count Stefano Rossi," replied Torosto, shaking hands. As he was leaving the room Helen came in. She was very angry, her face pais, her lips presaad tightly together, her eyes shining brightly. and her air confident and deter- mined. "You Med to avoid me, Ralph. You need i not have sent me an insulting message eoeh as that by a servant," "I do not wish to see you," he said coldly. "Perhaps not; but you will nevertheless be glad I eame." "No you are quite wrong. I do not intend- ever to see you again. I bad a communica- tion last night from Mr. Gascoyne, and J in- tended to write to you this morning, but have been prevented." "Oh, the fair Rita's matters, I suppose/* the sneered. "Yes., Miss Bishop's matters. Mr. Gas- coyne sent me these two enclosures, and yott will appreciate their importance," and Ralph held the two certificates towards her. "You probably attach more importance to them than I do," she replied with a shrug, as she waved them away. "I knew he would tell you, of course, and I knew that you would make use of them if you could." "I do attach the greatest importance to them. They mean that your hold over me is broken." "Indeed. It is not an elegant phrase, nor is it a true one. But you can make what U88 you please of them." "You admit the trutli of them that you are the Helen Armstrong mentioned in thki marriage certificate?" "Oli, yes; I can't deny it. Robert Gas- coyne can prove that. I will give you any ai->jstance you choose to ask for to prove: your case." "1 am not asking your assistance. Your hwbaud v as alive at the time of Sir James's d-Kth, and you were not therefore in a posi- tion to comply with the conditions of his will." "I know that. You can make a beggar -of m-.1 if you choo-sc. You arc thinking of your threat to do that with me. I do not wish nor intend to do anything of the sort. I hope, indeed, that you will marry Gascoyne." "You need' not be a brute," she cried furiously. "If that is how you recent the words, I r, tinct them. It is certainly Ur. Gascoyne'# wish and in- motive for this diselorure." "Do you know the story of my marriage? Ko more than that Mr. Gascoyne has told me it was very unhappy." "It was torture. I was that drudge of drudges, a nursery governess on a salary of fiftee-i pounds a year. John Whitaker tempted me with lies about his wealth, and I married him. The very day after the mar- s,.i-t-o-k me because I refused to play the part for which he had married me, to u" my wits to make fools of the men ho sought to cheat out of their money. For two years I endured a life of ceaseless struggle, hardship, abuse and cruelty. I had made ll1 y bed, and was no coward to shirk "ie con- sequences. Then he came into some money and left me to starve, giving me good reasons to believe that he was dead. I did believe it, and went back to my governess- ing. I took my own name: not because I wanted to liiie the fact of my marriage, but because I could not have earned a crust with- out the character I had gained as Helen Armstrong. Then Sir James died, and you can ask yourself bow such a temptation as that will offered was likely to appeal to me. I concealed the fact of my marriage; not because I thought the fact would bar my ebim-I believed my husband was dead. I that on my honour. Whv I concealed it afterwards you can guess: but I swear solemnly that until Robert Gascoyne told me I had not a thought that my husband had not died four years before. Ralph's anger passed as he listened to her story. His pity was moved, and there was genuine sympathy in his voice as he replied: "I am deeply sorry for you, and, so far as I am concerned, I will forgive what you have done but-" "I do not want your forgiveness, Ralph. 1 want you. I should have told you of my m-trriag e months ago, but I feared it would part us. I love you. I am not ashamed to own it. I long for you. I have been your pledged wife for all these montbs-" "This can only distress us both, Helen. You know that 1 asked you to release ".6 fjom the engagement "Not until this other woman—this Rita Bishop, or Countess Darla, whichever she is —came between us. You cannot marry her. She is promised to Stephen." Ralph rose. "Let us put an end to this. No. no; please hear me out. I must acquaint :M r, Leaf with the facts which have come to my knowledge, and what has to be dono legnllv must of course be done but all shall be done as qui-etly and secretly as possible, and I will tell him my wishes in the matter." Helen rose then, her eyes glittering dan- g«iotiely. You mean that you refuse to keep your word, Ralph, and that you will not make me your wife? "That was only possible before becauso vou were able to compel me through my care for ot hevrs. It is impossible now." She stood looking intently into his face. "You will repent the decision till the day of vour death. I am hesitating whether I shall you why." '"$. She paused, and Denton came in with & note written in pencil. "Mr. Harefield asked me to give you this at. once, sir." Ralph glanced at it and repressed a start of i-ten.~e astonishment. The car No. 33,516 is now standing at your door.—J. H. He affected to think for a moment while struggling to control the. excitement caused by ihe news. "Is Mr. Harefield's car at tÀ6 door. Denton?" he asked. The niaii looked puzzled. "I—I don't- know, sir," he stammered. -6Well. go and ask him." Denton went out and returned tJauMt directly. "No, sir. Miss Armstrong's is the only car waiting at the door," be said. It was in Helen's car, therefore, that itits had been taken away. (To be Continued.)
BOOKS AND MAGAZINES.
BOOKS AND MAGAZINES. I HISTORIAN'S MISTAKE. There is an amusing article on "Some Literary Blunders in the "Oxford and Cam- bridge Review." In the course of it, the author. Dr. S my the Palmer, >ays:— Lord Macaulay, we know, was a very clever man indeed, but he made his share of mis- takes. One of these is apparently due to his not understanding the cider Eugidl. It is well known that lIe drew a very disparaging picture of the statu? of the clergy during the Stuart period— tint, they were, in fact, little better than a kind of upper servant, in th-e- house of their patron, or retainer. lie says, the clergy were regarded a-, on the whole, plebeian class. And indeed, for one who made ihc figure of a gentlemnn. they wore mere menial servants." No doubt they were de- srriWd as menials, but not in the sciu-e he thought. The word has now got mixed up with the word "mean," so that .t c something servile, hw, or degrading. But- that idea was not properly in the word at all. "Menial originally meant, belonging to the- rn einee, or meynce—i.e.\ a household, the eon- tents of a mansion. Anyone residing in the house of his ho/d. t)a however high his office, would he c.'l'ed a "menial." or domestic —e.g., a lady of the bulehamler to the Queen (though a duches-) or a lord-in-waiting, would 1* correctly described as a "menial" of the Court. Now, almost every nohleman and squiro formerly had a domestic chaplain in his house, and such a one would ox-offieio a "menial." So far, indeed, from I-eiiig a dishonourable epithet, the po-rt Oldham, in 1G80, applies it -to the glorifud rp'rits in the Hiawnly heme— "There all Thy famil, of menial Saints Now, on Thv throne, for ever wait." -011 'I'bv iltroti?,, f or ev4er w-.i i t. I But Lord Macaulay, not being able to free himself from modern associations, and imagin- ing that a clergyman, to be menial, must be OR a par with the servants of a gre. house, had i his judgment warped, ind was led into absurd ) exaggeration*