A Fascinating Traitor Part 40

With a stately tread, the lonely girl descended the stair, when Major Harry Hardwicke tapped at her door, gently saying: "The carriage waits below. And--some one waits there to cheer you on your way onward to Life and Love! Remember, I follow on at once." Nadine Johnstone sprang lightly into the carriage. With a gentle art, the soldier turned away his head and quickly cried, "Drive on!" when the door closed. The orderly at a sign followed the closed vehicle. It was a sweet surprise.

Love's coup de main!

Nadine Johnstone never turned her head toward the dark martello tower, for a woman's arms were now clasped around her, and loving lips pressed her own. "Free at last, my own darling! Free!" cried Alixe Delavigne, as she strained her gentle captive to her bosom. "My own poor darling! Now, we shall never be parted! My darling! My Valerie's own image!"

"And, my mother?" faltered the lovely girl, the sunrise of hope flooding her cheek with affection's glow of dawn. "My sister--your mother--looks down from Heaven upon us, joined after many years!" sobbed Alixe. A softer pillow never had maiden's head than Alixe Delavigne's throbbing bosom.

"Did you not feel in your heart that love led me to your side, my darling? That I crossed the wide world to find you, and to fight my way to your heart?" murmured Alixe.

"Ah! Justine always said there was a marvelous resemblance!" faltered Nadine. "She must be sent for now! At once! Poor Justine!"

"She waits for you, even now, at Edgemere! I must save you, now, from hearing the story of strangers!" said Alixe, taking the girl's trembling hands. "Major Hardwicke telegraphed to her at Geneva, in your name, to come on here at once. For, while we have suns.h.i.+ne mantling around us, she, alone, must follow Alan Hawke's body to an unknown grave."

"Is he--that terrible man--indeed dead?" gasped Nadine.

"You pa.s.sed his body that night when they led you from the tower,"

gravely said Alixe. "He fell, fighting as a criminal, by the hand of Captain Murray, who struck only to save your liberty, and his own life.

The civil authorities will not unveil the dark past of a man who once wore the Queen's uniform in honor. General Wragge and the authorities have softened the blow to Justine Delande, whom he would have made his dupe. You must only know this, darling, from me--from me, alone! And so, to s.h.i.+eld poor, faithful Justine, we will all leave Jersey at once.

Strange irony of fate. The Viceroy has cabled that Ram Lal Singh has paid over twenty thousand pounds, to be held for Justine Delande, to whom Alan Hawke left all his dearly bought bribes; and also the money he left hidden at Granville--jewels and notes to the value of ten thousand pounds more. The wages of sin, even death, was all he gained, and, strangely, through him, Justine will be s.h.i.+elded from penury; for she bears a broken heart. All that she knows is of his sudden death.

"And now, darling, for I must tell you, the a.s.sa.s.sin of your father has saved his miserable life by a full confession made to General Willoughby. None but myself must ever tell you that your father's memory, your uncle's liberty were all involved in a tangled story of olden greed, intrigue, shame, and crime. Let the dead past rest unchallenged. The seal of the tomb will be unbroken. And it is your mother's tender love that will gild your bridal. Let me be your sister forever. None but you and I must know the history until others have a right to it."

"Has--has Harry told you of our coming marriage?" faltered Nadine, hiding her head in her kinswoman's breast. There were fleeting blushes as rosy as the Alpenglow now tinging her pale cheek. Nadine Johnstone saw her new-found sister now glowing in a woman's gentle triumph. She had a secret of her own!

It was Alixe's turn to beg a fond heart's throbbing sympathy when she whispered, "General Wragge advises and the Viceroy insists that we leave the island at once. Captain Anstruther must soon report to His Excellency the Viceroy at Calcutta, for his promotion to a Majority takes him back to his kinsman's suite. The Earl has been honored with the control of Her Majesty's Emba.s.sy at Paris. And so," the words came slowly in trembling whispers, "both Anson and Harry have applied for 'special licenses,' and there will be two marriages at Edgemere, instead of one. Anson gave you to me, through a strange romance, and he demands to be my loving jailer!

"In three days we can all leave for London. Justine Delande has finished her solemn duty even now, with General Wragge as sole escort. It was the only way to hoodwink useless public gossip."

"And will we be then so soon separated?" cried Nadine, clinging to her kinswoman, in a tremble of yearning love. "For you must go out with your husband to India. You must tell me of my mother, her life, her home, and I must see where she lies."

"Ah, my darling," said Alixe, "we will all go on to my home--your home, at Jitomir, my castle in Volhynia. Your own yet to be. There, Anson and I will leave you and Major Hardwicke for your honeymoon. There, my dearest child, where your own mother's sweet face still looks down from the walls. Where the Russian violets and Volhynian forget-me-nots bloom around her tomb, where you will see her name carved in the memorials of a princely line as 'Valerie, Princess Troubetskoi.' There, I will tell you the whole story."

An April rain of loving tears silenced the girl's voice, as she looked out of the carriage window, and saw Major Hardwicke riding after them.

"Tell me no more, now, Darling Alixe," murmured Nadine, "I must have peace--even in this moment of happiness!" Her thoughts went back to the day when Harry Hardwicke had ridden "Garibaldi" straight to the rescue, in her moment of deadly peril, and his saber had fended off the huge cobra. And so, they journeyed on silently-linked in love, dreaming tender dreams.

In the western skies, the sun was sinking over the purpled sea, as they drove down to Edgemere, and the glow of the dying day lingered upon the beautiful hills of Jersey. For the wild storm was quieted and the sea shone as a sapphire zone. Golden gleams lit up stern old Mount Orgueil and gray Fort Regent, and tenderly tinted the rugged outlines of the moss-grown Elizabeth Castle. All nature dreamed in the peaceful, even fall. On the sea, white sails were flitting afar, and the swift steamers pa.s.sed grandly on toward their distant havens. There was a group gathered in the splendid gardens of Edgemere as General Wragge gallantly advanced.

The silver-haired veteran graciously surrendered his command, as he aided his guests to alight. "This is to be 'Bride's Hall,' and not a 'place of arms'! You are now joint commanders, and so make the best use of your three days liberty! I give up my sword!"

That night, while Nadine Johnstone sat in a heart exchange of confidence with Justine Delande and the fair woman--no longer Berthe Louison--while Flossie Murray was playing hostess with Mrs. Wragge, General Wragge, Major Hardwicke, Captain Anstruther, and the now full-fledged Benedict, Eric Murray, gave some pithy parting counsels to Jack Blunt, "Gentleman Jack," of the London Swell Mob. "Only a mere fluke, and, our desire to save a family needless pain, protects you," said Hardwicke. "These five hundred pounds will enable you to reach America. I venture to advise you to avoid landing on English soil hereafter! You certainly owe something to your plucky, dead comrade, who generously lied, even in death, to save you from transportation!" With a sullen brow, Jack Blunt departed the next morning on the Granville steamer, and, only when in the safe hiding of Etienne Garcin's Cor d'Abondance did he dare to breathe freely. There were two sorely wounded lodgers already lying there, who cursed the unerring aim of the vivacious and eccentric Alaric Hobbs of Waukesha. They had told the landlord their tales over cognac and absinthe, and Jack Blunt vainly tried to comfort the sloe-eyed Angelique, who mourned for the unreturning visitor who had sprung over the easily-stormed battlements of her mobile heart. "Il etait bien beau, cet homme la! Il m'aimait beaucoup! Je le regretterai toujours! C'etait un vrai gaillard!"

Which heartfelt tribute from a nameless wanton served for epitaph to the man lying in an unmarked grave in the soldiers plot at Fort Regent. With gnas.h.i.+ng of teeth did Garcin and Jack Blunt discover that H. R. M.'s Consul had officially aided Justine Delande to remove the valuable deposits of the dead adventurer.

"The whole thing was a dead plant on us. Luck turned against him at last!" growled Blunt, as they counted up the cost of the bootless cruise of the Hirondelle. And only Justine Delande's bitter tears flowed in silence to lament the bold adventurer who had lost the game of life!

It was at Rosebank that the three brides were a.s.sembled for a sweet review after the quiet double marriage at Edgemere, which caused General Wragge's rugged face to wreathe in honest smiles of delight.

And there was no rice left in the General's military supplies, "when the bridal parties drove away in great state to the Stella."

A curious congratulatory visit from Professor Alaric Hobbs led to the extending of an invitation by Captain Anstruther for the lanky American scientist to visit him in India.

"We owe you a debt of grat.i.tude," laughed Anstruther, "for you helped Hardwicke to his wife. She helped me to mine, and I will see that the Indian Government gives you an official safe conduct to Thibet, where you can see the real line of the Dalai-lamas, and I'll furnish you a veritable 'Moonshee' free of charge. You shall be the very 'Moses' of Yankee investigators! You deserve it!"

"Now you talk horse sense," said the alert Yankee. "I'm going out to 'square things' with old Andrew Fraser's son. Don't ever kick a man when he's down! The old boy has had a very 'rough deal.' That 'fake' about Thibet nearly broke him up. And I've a commission from the Buggin's Literary Syndicate, of Chicago, to 'write up India.' I shall take a hack at Egypt on my way home, and perhaps ride over to Persia, then get into Merv and Tashkend, and come back by Astrakhan into 'darkest' Russia, and return home. I shall also write some spicy letters to the Chicago Howler and the New York Whorl. I tell you, Cap," said Alaric Hobbes, slapping Anstruther familiarly on the back, "you three military men have certainly fitted yourselves out with tiptop wives! I am going to make a pretty good money haul myself on this trip. I'll look you up later in Calcutta. Would like to see the Viceroy. He was a 'brick' when he was Governor-General of Canada. So I'll get young Douglas Fraser fixed up all in good trim, and when I get home and have published my books, settle down and marry a little woman I've had my eye on for some time. I will go in for a family life, you bet!"

"Look out that you don't lose her," laughed Hardwicke.

"I will not get left, you bet!" cried Hobbes. "Now, I'm going to vamoose the ranch. I think that I may have killed one or two of that gang, and I don't fancy the 'monotonous regularity' and 'salubrious hygiene' of your English prisons."

And so, "his feet were beautiful on the mountains," as he went out on his queer life pathway.

After the week of quiet at Rosebank, Captain Eric Murray was hugely delighted to receive his orders to take charge of all Anstruther's confidential work, in England, until the Viceroy should be pleased to otherwise direct. "I think that a garrison life here, with Miss Mildred as commander, will just suit you and Madame Flossie?" laughed the kindly conspiring aide-de-camp, anxious to be away on his road to Jitomir, "personally conducted" by the brilliant Alixe.

The Horse Guards were "pleased to intimate" that Major Harry Hardwicke, Royal Engineers, should be allowed "such length of leave" as he chose to apply for, and a secret compliment upon his "gift to the Crown" of the recovered property was supplemented by a request to name any future station "agreeable at present" to the young Benedict. And the solicitors had now deftly arranged the complete machinery of the care of the great estate, until the orphan claimed her own.

While Jules Victor and Marie prepared Madame Anstruther for her state visit of triumph to Volhynia, Hardwicke and Anstruther soon closed up all their reports to Calcutta. With due cordiality, the unsuspicious Douglas Fraser had wired his congratulations to his gentle cousin; and General Willoughby, and His Excellency, the Viceroy, were also heard from, in the same way. It was the gallant General Abercromby who spread the news of Anstruther's marriage in the club. "Ah!" he enthusiastically cried, "A monstrous fine woman--came near marrying her myself!" which was a gigantic "whopper!"

Justine Delande accompanied the happy quartet to Paris, and there, being joined by her sister, the faithful Swiss sisters remained as guests of Madame Berthe Louison, awaiting the return of the wanderers from Jitomir. The Murrays gayly escorted the quartet of lovers to Paris, and, the laughing face of the gallant "Moonshee" was the very last the four lovers saw, as the Berlin train left the "Gare St. Lazare."

Mr. Frank Halton, in his capacity of "journalist in general," had neatly stifled all comment upon the strange events in Jersey, with the aid of the stern General Wragge and the startled civil authorities. "I think that I had better present you with all the property costumes of Prince Djiddin and the 'Moonshee,'" laughed Halton. "We accept on the sole condition that you will make us a visit at Jitomir, and experience a Russian welcome," cried the Anstruthers in chorus. "The Russian bear has a gentle hug, when his fur is stroked the right way!"

Justine and Euphrosyne Delande drove back happy-hearted to No. 9 Rue Berlioz, for the beautiful brides had claimed them both as future colonists of Volhynia, when the mill of Minerva ceased to grind to their turning.

"We have agreed to own Jitomir in common, as we have both 'joined the army,'" laughed the kinswomen. "There is a permanent home for you both, already awaiting you, and a welcome which time will not wear out. For Jitomir shall be, now and in the future, a temple of Life and Love, the headquarters of a happy clan."

And, so, linked in love, the kinswomen voyaged to the far domain where a mother had sobbed away her life, hungering for a sight of her child's face. The men, grave with the secrets of the troubled past, wondered over the strange meeting at Geneva which had undone all of Hugh Fraser's secretly plotted wiles. "We must never cast a shadow upon Douglas Fraser," they mused. "Let the dead past bury its dead, and all sin, shame, and sorrow be forgotten. For this once, the innocent do not suffer for the guilty."

There was only left behind them a broken old man, wandering disconsolately around the halls of the Banker's Folly and vainly turning the leaves of his unfinished "History of Thibet."

Janet Fairbarn, tenderly nursing the now childish old pedant, vainly soothed him, and fanned his flickering lamp of life in the silent wastes of the Banker's Folly. But the half-crazed scholar refused to be comforted and called in his mental despair ever for "the Moonshee."

THE END