Part 31 (2/2)
”Ah, no!” I cried, imploringly. ”Don't utter those cruel words, Muriel. You cannot really mean them. You know how fondly I love you.”
We had arrived outside Highbury Station; and as I uttered these words she halted, and without response, held out her hand, saying in a cold tone--
”You must leave me now. I ask this favour of you.”
”I cannot leave you,” I panted in the wild desire which possessed me.
”You must be mine, Muriel. Do not let this man draw you beneath his influence by his smooth words and studied politeness, for recollect who he is. You are aware--therefore I need not tell you.”
”Who he is? What do you mean?”
”I mean that he is in no way fit to be your lover,” I responded, my lover's flame of pa.s.sion unallayed. ”When you meet him, test him and watch if he really loves you. Recollect that your beauty, Muriel, is striking; and that personal beauty is often woman's deadliest enemy. I have, as you know, always sought to protect you from men who have flattered you merely because you possessed a pretty face. I loved you then, darling--I love you now!”
A sigh escaped her, but without a word she turned and left me ere I could prevent her, and even as I stood I saw her walk straight across to the station entrance, where she joined the lean, shabby man who had been awaiting her to keep an appointment.
Her eyes, quickened by love, had detected him ere he had noticed her, for he gave no glance in my direction, but lifting his shabby silk hat he grasped her hand, then walked on by her side, while I stood lonely and desolate, watching him disappear in the darkness with the woman I so fondly loved.
I, faint soul, had given myself helplessly into the evil hands of Aline for no purpose. All was in vain. I had been brought near to hope's fruition, but Muriel had forsaken me. She had told me plainly that in her heart no spark of affection remained.
I stood crushed--hopeless--the past an inexplicable mystery, the future a grey, barren sea of despair.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
THE CHALICE.
Early in September my chambers were insufferably hot and dusty. In the road below the eternal turmoil was increased every hour, as the presses of the _Pall Mall Gazette_ turned out their various editions, which were loaded into the carts by an army of shouting men and boys. The club was deserted; most men I knew were out of town, and I felt utterly lonely and miserable.
A fortnight before I had received a letter from Jack Yelverton, saying that he had resigned the curacy of Duddington, and was about to return at once to St Peter's, Walworth, he having been appointed vicar of the parish. I replied congratulating him, and expressing a hope that he would call as soon as he returned to town. But I had seen nothing of him. Had the offer of a good living proved too tempting to him, I wondered; or had he resolved to abandon the curious theory he held regarding marriage? I was intensely anxious to ascertain the truth.
Since that afternoon when I had met Aline at Ludgate Circus and been induced to relinquish myself into her hands, I had seen nothing of her.
She had refused me her address, and had not called. Yet, strange to relate, I had experienced some delusions unaccountable, for once or twice there seemed conjured in my vision vague scenes of terror and hideousness which held me in a kind of indefinite fear which was utterly indescribable. To attribute these experiences to Aline's influence was, of course, impossible. Yet the strangest fact was that in such moments there invariably arose, side by side with the woman I loved, the countenance of the woman of mystery distorted by hate until its hideousness appalled me.
I attributed these experiences to the disordered state of my mind and the constant tension consequent upon Muriel's waywardness; nevertheless, so remarkable were the powers possessed by Aline that I admit wondering whether the distressing visions which arose before me so vividly as to become almost hallucinations were actually due to the influence she possessed over me.
I am no believer in the so-called mesmeric power, in hypnotism, or any of the quack influences by which charlatans seek to impose upon the public, therefore I philosophically attributed the visions to severe mental strain; for I had read somewhere that such hallucinations were very often precursory of madness.
Fully a month pa.s.sed, from the night when I had vainly implored Muriel to give me hope, until late one afternoon Simes ushered in Aline.
So changed was she that I rose and regarded her with speechless astonishment. Her face was thin and drawn, her cheeks hollow, her eyebrows twitching and nervous, while her clear, blue eyes themselves seemed to have lost all the brightness and cheerful light which had given such animation to her face. She was dressed in deep black, and wore no jewellery except a golden bracelet shaped as a snake, the sombreness of her costume heightening the deathlike refinement and pallor of her countenance.
As she stepped across to me quickly, and held out her gloved hand, I exclaimed concernedly--
”Why, what has occurred?”
”I have been ill,” she answered vaguely, and she sank into a chair and placed her hand to her heart, panting for the exertion of walking had been too great for her.
”I'm exceedingly sorry,” I replied. ”I've been expecting you for several weeks. Why did you not leave your address with me last time?”
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