The Iola register. [volume] (Iola, Allen County, Kansas) 1875-1902, 1883-10-05

| to YOURSELF" Ainslie asked, as he opened
the door of one in which middle-aged man
much wrapped up, was already ensconsed.
/ had no maid with me, the dear little cot
tage at Ludford hardly suficing for one
visitor.
20 dear, mol" said, making myself com
Portable. 81 will let you know how Sir
Martin is" And before I could say more
we were moving away from the platform.
My thoughts, as I tried to catch last
they were speedily interrupted by my com.
panion speaking.
spray excuse me-" he said, suddenly;
''may ask il you were speaking of Sir
Martin McMichael of Stuart Park?o
took good look at him before answer
ing; but though it was August, he was so
closely wrapped up that l could not see
much. By his brown complexion, should
have judged him to be a foreigner; his
mustache was quite white, but his face,
where l could see it, was unwrinkled-he
might be fifty. His eyes were keen enough,
and his voice undoubtedly that of gen.
tleman. Treasured by my survey, l an.
swered:
"Yes, he has been taken i'll suddenly. Do
| you know him"
81 did once" he answered with q rest
less movement. "Are you going to Stuart
Park"
bowed, and looked out Of my window,
|
estly. He said nothing more, and, after
creeping through innumerable small sta
| tions, we reached Stuart Town. l had an
nounced my coming by telegram; but there
| was no carriage to meet me, an omission
| for it was two miles to the Park-which
filed me with fear. My grandfather must
| be very ill. Declining the station-master's
| offer of assistance, l set out to walk the
| distance.
Before l reached the house, when its great
stacks of chimneys and old Tudor gables
were just appearing among the trees, met
James coming hastily to meet me. He
seemed nervous and perturbed, but his first
words explained this.
"Sir Martin is worse, Amber-very ill, l
fear. He was attacked while l was away
| yesterday. ! fastened to meet you, that
none of the servants might see you and tell
him that you were come, without prepare
| tion."
"That was good of you, James. I am glad
| that l came at once"
Eyes: did you come in by the lodge-gate
or the little bridle-path?"
"By the bridle-path. Are you going in
this wayp He had turned off into a path
| which led to a side door in the right wing.
"Yes; the'doctor says his nerves are pre-
ternaturally acute, and the slightest shock
or noise must be avoided
He told me other details as we passed,
without seeing any one, to my rooms on the
| first floor in the right wing. Save my
maids, all the other rooms in this wing
were guest chambers. It was lonely, but
preferred it; for from the windows beau
tiful view of the Stretton Hills could be en-
joyed, particularly in winter, when the
shrubbery outside was leafesS. My bed
room was inside the sitting-room. At the
door of the latter strange woman met us.
"W atkyns, you know, is away, said my
cousin. "She has not been sent for yet"
80 L 4. L. -.
forgotten it. passed into my bedroom to
take off my things without the slightest
suspicion. When came back into the sit
ting-room the MAZDA tall, stupid-looking
woman, much older than Watkyns-was
standing by the window. On the table was
a tray with luncheon. But had no appe-
tite and went at once to the door. Itwas
locked. ....r .E
"There is something the matter with the
door," said, after fumbling at it for mo-
ment.
The woman by the window did not turn
or make any reply. &C.,.
"Do you hear:' cried, irritated by her
silence, "There is something the matter.
Open the door, please"
She turned, and, sullen as was her face,
she looked i'll at ease with what she had to
say.
"You can not get out, Miss. It's as well
to understand il at once. The doors
lockeu on tne OuUSlOes ana untll ne VINO
hasf the key comes back here you must
stay"
"Are you mad?' cried, trying to crush
down my fears. solve me the key at once,
and don't talk nonsensew
81 haven't got it," she said, apathetic-
ally. SIT is no good being angry with me.
am as much prisoner as you are"
"Good Heavens" l cried; "do you know
that am mistress here! My grandfather
is ill, and l must go to him. Open this
door at once; or, il it is fastened, ring the
bell"
She made no answer, but nodded grimly
at the place where the bell-rope should have
been. 1t was gone, and even the wire was
broken. Then, when l perceived that it
was an arranged scheme, sudden feeling
of helplessness came over me. l remem-
bered that green baiZe door shut in the
little suite of rooms, and would effectually
prevent any alarm reaching the other parts
of the house. The windows were securely
fastened; but even if l broke one, and
the noise would hardly pierce the shrub
berries. And vet, while l felt myself grow
ing paler, it seemed so ridiculous that l, the
mistress, should be imprisoned in my own
rooms! What could be the motive? Except
the station-master, l had not seen any one
who would be likely to mention my arrival.
Was that why James asked me if had
passed the lodge.
Was my grandfather really ill? Yes, of
that, as the report came from Ainslie, there
could be no doubt. This must be my cous-
in's doing, out of revenge for my refusal of
his suit. Improbable, almost absurd, as it
seemed, that must be the case, though l
could not guess his ultimate intention. l
must have my wits about me. | ate my
lunch, the woman waiting upon me respect
fully enough. How YEARLY passed the
hours until it grew,dark. :fand then a step
sounded in the passage, a key was put in
the lock, and James entered and locked the
door behind him. He made a sign to the
woman, and she retired into the bedroom
and closed the door.
1--WE won't beat about the bush, Amber.
You have discovered by this time that you
are my prisoner. No one knows that you
are here, and until l say the word no one
will know. The household is in confusion,
owing to Sir Martins Illness"
'He is ill! Oh, James, how can you keep
me here"
81 will tell you in few words. Sir Mar
tin, who can not live three days, the doc
tors say, made his will yesterday. He be-
lieves, Amber, that you will marry me. l
have told him so. Will you let it be? and
l will take you to him this moment"
He drew nearer.
"And e do not-what them"
"rhen you will not see him. He has made
his will in that belief; and has left all to go
to me with the title, feeling sure that l
shall do what is right by You. II he dies,
or rather when he dies, you will be penni-
less. l am PLAYING both for love and for.
tune, Amber. If you will not marry me,
at least you Will take no fortune to your
husband"
He said much to- the same effect, but only
excited more and more my indignation and
anger. l refused to bind myself, refused
with scorn; and he left me, after telling
me how futile was all hope that should be
released unless l would promise to do as he
wished. He avowed that he had planned
to keep me at Ludfcrd in ignorance of Sir
Martins illness, satisfying the old man