“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 his _fiancée_, 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.