Los Angeles herald., 1907-01-06
B|Eed
MNHike

81 know her, and ! don't know her." the girl
cried. ''She came into the diningroom here be-
fore dinner quite by accident. I thought she
was some adventures at first, But her face was
too good and pure for that I asked her who
she was, and she said she was the Slave Of the
Bond. Is this a coincidence, or is there some
thing deeper beyond? I don't know what to
think"
Something deeper beyond, should imagine
Mark said. "Be sure that in some way or an.
other this grey lady is interested in your well
fare. But am absolutely sure that she did not
know me-"
"And so you came on at once, Marl,?" Beat
rice asked.
GAS soon as possible, dear. heard about the
dinner whilst I was in the theatre My train
was very late, and 1 could not possibly carry out
the program that had arranged. My next diff
hculty was to get speech with you. Happily
half sovereign and an intelligent waiter solved
that problem. When Richford followed you J
had to borrow that tray and the rest of it and
disburse another half sovereign. Then | saw
that my old friend Bennington had come to my
rescue Did you tell him, Beatrce?"
He saw the message on the wine card and
recognized your handwriting. But l shall not
be able to stay much longer, Mark. Those peo-
pie may come into the drawingroom at any mo-
ment. This must be our last meeting"
Mark would have said MORE only there was
the futter of a dress in the drawing-room be-
guests were coming into the drawingroom.
With a quick notion Mark snatched the girl
to his heart and kissed her passionately.
"Good night, darling" he whispered. "Keep
up your courage. Who knows what may happen
between now and twelve o'clock tomorrow"
Another kiss, and the lover gone Beatrice
lay back in her chair striving to collect her
thoughts. Everything seemed to have happened
so suddenly and unexpectedly. There were peo-
pie about her now who asking smoothly
sympathetic questions in the hollow insincerity of
the world
"I'm no BETTER" Beatrice said. eff my aunt
is ready I should like to go home"
Beatrice had gone at length with Lady Rash
borough, the rest of the guests had finished their
bridge, and the party was breaking up. Mark
Ventmore sitting, smoking cigarettes in His
bedroom, waiting for the chance to see Sir
Charles. 1t getting very late now, and all
the guests had long since been in their rooms.
With his door open Mark could see into the cor
ridor
Then he gave little whistle of astonishment
as the door of Sir Charles's sitting-room opened
and the grey lady, the Slave of the Bond of 81.
lence, came out. She came at length to the end
of the corridor and disappeared quietly and de-
liberately down the stairs. With a feeling of
curiosity, Mark crossed over and tried the ham
die of Sir Charles door. To his surprise it was
locked.
For little time Mark pondered over the prob
! lem As he did so, his head fell back and he
slept 1t was the sound sleep Of the clean mind
in the healthy body, so that when the sleeper
came to himself again it was broad daylight; the
hotel was full of life and hustle With sense of
having done fearful thing Mark looked at his
watch 1t was ten minutes past eleven.
"This comes of having rest the night be-
fore.' he muttered. "And to think that the
fate of my little girl should be hanging in the
balance If Sir Charles has gone!"
But Sir Charles had not gone, one of the
walters was in a position to assure Mark. He
had not retired to bed until past three, and at
that time was in state of hilarity that prom
ised pretty fair headache in the morning.
"Well, there is time yet" Mark thought, grim
". "And Sir Charles must be moving by this
time, as the wedding is to take place at twelve. ="
But the minutes crept on, and it was pretty
near to that hour when Sir Charles man came
down the corridor with anxious expression
on his face He had been hammering at the
bedroom door without effect
A sudden idea thrilled Mark, an idea that he
was ashamed of almost before it had come into
his mind He stood by idly, listening. He heard
clock somewhere strike the hour of midday.
He stepped up to the little knot of walters.
''Why don't you do something?" he demanded
''What is the use of standing stupidity about
here? Call the manager whoever is in at
tendance Break down the door"
With all his force Mark thrust himself against
the stout oak The hinges yielded at last