The Weekly Journal. — 1904-09-30 (Hartlepool, Cleveland, England)

THE FATAL RING.  DV LUCY HARDY.  Loanisg against a doorway in the approved eserventional attitude of a nou-dancer, I stood surveying a ballroom one *inter's evening some years ago. The gay scene now before, tile was in striking contrast to those among winch Rl] life, for the last year or so, had been pissed; for I had bat recently returned froq, an "exploration expedition" into the reces.ces of Africa, an expedition to which I had beca attached in a medical capacity. It was a great change to return to the comforts and luxuries of civilisation after my exile. and. as I gazed on the brilliant scene before net, I thought what a different world it from the tropical jungles in which my tittle bad been passed of late. For long mouths 1, like the rest of my party, had travelled with my life in my baud on guard against attack from savage beast or yet more savage men. Here all spoke of ease and security. .Eveu the Mflilag _countenances around me were cast in a totally different mould from—here I suddenly started, for at my side, standing back in the shadow of the passage, I caught sight of a man with an expression on his face which, had I beheld it on the countenance of one of um inegro carriers, would have caused me to lay instant hand on my revolver. Men who live among perils become singularly watchful of such danger signals, and here, in eivilimed England. upon the countenan, e of a gentleman in Muffled' evening matinee, I recognised an expression which I had beheld often before in my experiences among the savage tribes---a look of that deadly concentrated list* which is meditating some swift art of Z:ieace. Such an expression had swept over t:turc., of one of our native porters befon li. had brutaliy murdered one of the Europe-1111/ in revenge for some fancied injury. Hitt cre do not shoot poisoned arrows in civi drawing-roonis; and as I glanced again ea my neighbour he had reassumed that placid. asaii-bored expression which is characteristic of the guest who does not dance at a ball. Only for a moment had the man suffered the conventional mu.k to slip aside, and the natural savage instinvt to show itself. I now surveyed my neighbour with sonie interest. He was astrikingly handsoin:• nolo of some thirty years old, dark-haired, dark eyed, and with something foreign in his whole appearance. I learned afterwards that his mother had heen an Italian. He himself singularly resembled one of those " portraits of a gentleman" by an old Spanish or Italian master, whose dark, handsome, but somewhat sinister faces, look down lan us in many a picture gallery; faces to t,, • ired and feared rather than trusted.  One could imagine a jealous Venetian noble larking behind a pillar to waylay some hated rival, with just such an expression as I had noted flitting over my neighbour's face; and, aa I followed the dirertiot in which the man had scowled, I perceived that it was the old story, " Cherchez la femme." Moving gratefully together amid the mazes of the dance were a lovely girl and a fine-looking young titan. it needed little penetrati.,n to gUCEoI tilt teliltiOnn in whi-li they stood to each other, their Iming, nippy glances revealing their secret plainly. A betrothed pair, and the rejected suitor at my side—the fact.i WU. Obvious enough. "You've not been introduced to Clara yet, fume you?" said a voicc beside me, and I turned to behold my host. James Villiers and I had been fellow-collegians at Oxford, but had hutdom met since we left Christchurch. Ile had settled down on his estate after his father's death. and ressided altogether they?, wit% his petty young sister, who was many year. els Junior, while I had been workSng Lishohr at my profession abroad and at home, seeiknt now brought me into Villiees neighlmirhonJ. I was visiting friends near Wrethan. James's abcde, .and in; old college chain hts4 basteued to" look me up," and insist upon Lt,th I. and the family with whom I was staying, ;Mending the ball which he was giving in honostr of his sister's tat nty-firat n'rtkdaj I bad somewhat got " out of touch" with civilised festivities, but Villiers would take no &alai, and I attended the hal' as recw sled "I suppose that beautiful girl in white is yrnr sister. She seems to be eht INV% the eggekt," I said. 'Undue at the young lads