CHAPTER IX.
“I SHALL WAIT, IF NEED BE, FOREVER.”
The mysterious, unaccountable disappearance of Sir Harold Annesley was the talk of all England.
In some way, the quarrel between himself and Lady Elaine Seabright had got into the papers. First, it was published in a society journal; then it went the whole round of the press.
This is the way in which the public received the news:
Romance Outdone.—It now transpires that the quixotic young baronet, who has provided society with a new nine days’ wonder, has violently quarreled with hisfiancée, the Lady Elaine Seabright. My lady discovered at a very early stage of their love-making that Sir Harold was periodically attacked with insane jealousy. The theory of Stimson, the valet, that his master has met with foul play is absurd, simply because he got rid of Mr. Stimson by a sly trick. No, Sir Harold merely left England under an assumed name, and is no doubt quietly enjoying the sensation he has created. At any rate, he is teaching his capricious ladylove a lesson which she may not readily forget.
Romance Outdone.—It now transpires that the quixotic young baronet, who has provided society with a new nine days’ wonder, has violently quarreled with hisfiancée, the Lady Elaine Seabright. My lady discovered at a very early stage of their love-making that Sir Harold was periodically attacked with insane jealousy. The theory of Stimson, the valet, that his master has met with foul play is absurd, simply because he got rid of Mr. Stimson by a sly trick. No, Sir Harold merely left England under an assumed name, and is no doubt quietly enjoying the sensation he has created. At any rate, he is teaching his capricious ladylove a lesson which she may not readily forget.
Colonel Greyson read this with bristling mustache and a face purple with anger.
He showed it to Margaret Nugent, little dreaming that the cruel story had emanated from her. Then he rode over to Seabright Hall, and found that a marked copy of the paper had been sent to Lady Elaine.
This was his first visit since he had appealed to her on behalf of her lover. He had started on his journey with fierce resentment in his heart, but at sight of Elaine’s white face his anger turned to tender pity.
The earl was disgusted with the whole affair. He pretended that he could not understand it.
“Egad, sir,” he said, “if Sir Harold has gone away deliberately, leaving my daughter to be made a laughing stock of, I say that he is worse than a scoundrel; he is a coward! For my part, I never wish to see or hear of him again. She can have her pick among a score of better men, and is a fool to give him another thought. I’ll call him out, by Jove!”
“I have not come here to defend him,” replied Colonel Greyson; “but Sir Harold Annesley is neither a scoundrel nor a coward. There is some mystery about the affair that is quite beyond me. He made all arrangements for his valet to meet him in London. He left Crayford by the six o’clock train on the evening preceding, and has never been seen or heard of since.”
“Disguised himself!” sneered the earl. “He is so used to newspaper sensation that he must have it at any cost.”
The colonel glared at him angrily, but went on:
“I don’t believe one word of it. I know the boy too well. I have had a clever detective at work for a week, and we have not advanced one step. He made several appointments in London, not one of which he kept. He was perfectly sane when he went away, and quietly wished his cousin, Miss Nugent, good-by. He went away under the impression that Lady Elaine did not really care for him; but I will swear that he never contemplated this miserable scandal. His final wishes were that he should bear whatever blame was attached to the——”
The earl interrupted him with a harsh laugh.
“It is of no use, my dear Greyson,” he said; “your defense only makes his actions appear the more contemptible. For some reason, he wished to break the engagement between himself and Lady Elaine, and adopted this course for the sake of the theatrical effect. He will turn up again from Timbuctoo or some other outlandish place, by and by, for the sole purpose of creating another sensation;but he may get far more than he expects. For my part, I wash my hands of the affair, and shall insist upon Lady Elaine accepting Viscount Rivington.”
The earl spoke decidedly, and Colonel Greyson had little to say. What argument could he offer? None, until the mystery surrounding Sir Harold’s movements was cleared up.
He did not tell the earl that his visit was to Lady Elaine, and when she did not appear at the dinner-table he became anxious.
“I hope,” he observed, “that your daughter is not ill, my lord?”
“She is pretending to be,” was the rejoinder. “Of course, this farce must be kept up for a time. I hope you will not stuff any nonsense into her head, colonel.”
“I hope not,” was the reply.
“I am glad to hear that she is ill,” he thought, “though I would not be surprised to find the child of such a father perfectly heartless.”
He began to give up all hope of seeing Lady Elaine as the evening advanced and she did not appear. The earl was not particularly cordial, and he had no pretense for prolonging his stay.
Luckily, he encountered my lady’s maid in one of the passages, just when he was fuming savagely, and bade her tell her mistress that he desired a few words with her.
“That is,” he added, a little considerately, “if she is well enough to see me. I will wait in the west drawing-room.”
Lady Elaine came much sooner than he had expected, a world of anxiety and suffering in her face.
He stepped forward swiftly and took one of her hands between his, thinking, “Poor child! How I have misjudged her!”
“I did not know that you were here, Colonel Greyson,”Lady Elaine said, faintly. She sat down and looked at him pleadingly.
“You have no news for me?”
“None,” he replied, sadly. “I came here to-day to see if you—if you cared at all.”
“If I cared!” she echoed. “Do you not see that my heart is breaking; that this horrible suspense will kill me? The papers are full of cruel things, and if I have sent my darling to his death, I have no further wish to live.”
“The papers?” he questioned, and then his eyes blazed with anger when she took from her pocket a marked copy of the society journal which had tried to make scandal out of her misery.
“Whose hand is in this?” he muttered. “By Heaven, if I only knew! Toss the thing into the fire!” he added, aloud. “It is not worthy of a moment’s thought, Elaine. Child, be of good cheer. I am leaving no stone unturned. There is foul play somewhere. You promised me that you would send to him. Why did you delay?”
“I did not,” was the piteous rejoinder. “Has not Margaret told you? He scoffed at my love; he tore my letter to fragments and threw it away. Afterward he wrote cruel things to me. But he will come back again, if he lives. I know that he will, and I shall wait, if need be, forever.”
She looked at him in a way that he never forgot.
“I have misjudged you, Lady Elaine,” he said. “I did not think you were capable of such love as this.”
He looked at her pityingly, then his brow became dark.
“Why did Margaret Nugent not tell me of the letter?” he thought. “This puts the matter in a new light. This inclines me to believe that the earl’s theory is the correct one, and yet how could that boy be guilty of such meanness? He must have been mad.”
He promised Lady Elaine some news at an early date, but nothing came of his investigations.
A small fortune was spent upon detectives and advertisements in papers all over the world, but not an atom of information was to be obtained anywhere. A hundred messages were flashed across the Atlantic, and many harmless, innocent men were made objects of suspicion, but it all ended in—nothing.
The sum total was this: Sir Harold Annesley had been seen to enter a train at Crayford Station, and there he disappeared completely.