The Broken Thread

by William Le Queux

hands apart, each in one ofhis, exclaimed passionately, "Hilda, dear, sweet Hilda! You can helpme. I love you madly! Let me love you! Will you be my wife? Will yousteer me to a better, a more useful life?"

  She dropped her head and fell forward into his arms. He seized her andshowered kisses, she yielding. When at length they spoke again shesaid, "Raife, I loved you from the moment you told us the story of yourwound. I had not met such modesty and courage combined before. Raife,dear, I will strive to help you to a happy--yes, and, as you ask me, toa useful life."

  When Mr Muirhead returned, Hilda was at the piano, singing ElizabethBarrett Browning's tender song, "Love me sweet with all thou art."

  Raife did not wait for a chance meeting. On the following morning hewrote a note and sent it to Mr Muirhead:

  "Dear Mr Muirhead,--I have a matter of vital importance that I would like to discuss with you. Can I see you at once?--Yours very truly,--

  "Raife Remington."

  When the two men met and Raife had made a statement of his affairs andposition, and had asked for Hilda's hand, the old gentleman was visiblyaffected, and, taking Raife's hand, said "Remington, I like you verymuch. I love my daughter with all the love of a father for his onlydaughter. She is more precious to me than my own life. I only had oneother love. It was for her mother. She is dead. The man who breaksHilda's heart kills me and commits a double murder. Remington, I trustyou--take her."

  Raife's happiness was now complete, and, if his complex temperamentwould allow him, a great future was before him. In addition to titleand wealth, he had inherited marked ability, allied to a waywarddisposition. The future was fraught with possibilities for good orevil. In the battle of his life would the good or evil genius win?

  On the night following his betrothal to Hilda, he was strolling amongthe bazaars seeking to purchase something worthy of his beloved. As isthe custom among those picturesque, swarthy traders, who ensconcethemselves in dark corners awaiting custom as a spider awaits a fly,Raife was haggling over the price of a trinket, when he became consciousof the presence of a figure watching him. Hastily dropping the trinket,he wheeled round. He was just in time to see a familiar figure sliderather than dart around a corner a few yards away. He was determined atall hazards to capture this uncanny person and demand of him hisintentions. Raife chased him around the corner and searched every nookand cranny where he could possibly have hidden. He was too late, hisquarry had escaped.

  Raife muttered to himself: "Curse that infernal Apache fellow! Hedogged me at Nice. He was `killed' in a motor smash at Cuneo. He was`drowned' in the Thames at Hammersmith, and now the brute haunts me inthe Bazaar at Cairo. What does he want? Why does he shadow me?"

  As he sauntered back to renew his haggling for the trinket, thewhite-bearded and turbaned old Arab was saying to himself, "He must beIngleesi. All the Ingleesi are mad." It had served a useful financialpurpose for Raife, however; for, fearing he might dart off again, thistime not to return, he sold the trinket to Raife at his own price, whichwas just one-tenth of what the old man had asked. That is the way ofthe Oriental trader. On his way back to the hotel with his purchases,his father's dying words recurred to him, and he was more than everpuzzled by their mystic warning. These were the halcyon days of Raife'sshort life, and they had been disturbed by this hateful phantom Apache.Raife Remington might be wayward and impressionable, but he was braveand fearless, so he chased the incident from his mind, as he had chasedthe elusive phantom in the Bazaar.

  The sight of Hilda, and the warmth of her affectionate greeting,entirely dispelled this ill-omened cloud. He had quite recovered fromthe dagger wound now, and the weeks passed by with joyous rapidity. Heand Hilda had made excursions together of many varieties. Into thedesert, mounted on big white donkeys. To Memphis, the Pyramids ofSakkarah and the Serapeum, the tomb of Beni Hassan. By theluxuriously-appointed steamer, with its double decks and cool verandas,to Luxor, with its palatial modern hotels, contrasting strangely withthe ancient ruins, temples, and monuments of a long-forgottencivilisation. Here was ideal ground for love-making among thewhispering palm groves, with a turquoise sky above. Each scene sodifferent from the Western ideal, yet so picturesque. The long lines orfiles of pelicans fishing on the sandy shore, with the flights of pinkflamingoes hovering overhead. The line of native women gracefullyswaying to and from the water's edge with their pitchers balanced ontheir heads. These and a thousand strange sights and scenes, and, overall, the wondrous sky of the East, with its gorgeous sunrises andsunsets, and its weird depths of night. In such an Elysium did Hildaand Raife run the first course of their love, and it ran smoothly.Could such happiness last?

  Hilda's life until she met Raife had been happy, a life of sunshineuntouched by shadow, save the loss of her mother. She had given herheart to this handsome young Englishman. She had no knowledge ofEnglishmen, except that gained by brief and flitting visits to London.The wise and practical side of her character prompted her to reflectoften in the seclusion of her chamber. Were English husbands likeAmerican husbands? Would an ideal lover make an ideal husband? Raifehad told her that he had loved another woman. Would that woman enterinto his life again and destroy their happiness? Yes, there wasmisgiving in her mind at times. When Raife appeared and paid hergallant court, all doubts were dispelled, and she abandoned herself tohis caresses.

  In his spare moments Raife haunted the bazaars hunting for "that Apachefellow." He was determined, if possible, to probe the mystery to itsdepths, no matter how foul the consequences. Once, on a trip up theNile, among a group of lascars, he had fancied he saw a man who was notof them, and his mind at the time being slightly distrait, he conceivedthe idea it might be his enemy. He made straightway for the group, butby the time he got there the fellow was gone.

  It had become a frequent practice for Raife to dine with Mr Muirheadlately, and at the dinner-table he announced one night: "Oh, say!Remington, I've had news from the bank and I'm afraid I must cut shortmy vacation. I mustn't grumble; I think I've done rather well. ButI've worked hard for it."

  "No doubt," replied Raife reflectively, and with a deprecatory smile."You've worked hard for your holiday. My life's been all holiday and mywork's to come. You are going to help me, aren't you, Hilda?"

  Hilda laughed and retorted: "Surely, Raife, I'll help, but you mustpromise to obey."

  Mr Muirhead joined in. "Ha! ha! I thought that was your part of themarriage contract, Hilda? Never mind, as long as you both obey perhapsit will be better all round. That brings me to what I was going to say.For the second time I have to apologise for being unfamiliar withEnglish etiquette. I don't know quite what is the method of procedurein the matter of English marriages, especially when the bridegroom is anexalted person."

  Raife said laughingly, "Pardon me, Mr Muirhead, but you mean I'm an`exulting' person. I've captured the prize of the world, and I mean topreserve it. If you will accompany me to England, I will take you toAldborough Park, and introduce you to my mother."

  Hilda intervened: "That's just what I'm dreading. She'll hate me, and Ifeel, I know it. Then I shan't cry, I shall just stamp, and, for thefirst time in my life I'll shake my fist and say `I told you so.'"

  This assumed outburst produced the merriment that was intended. Raifeproceeded. "You'll like my mother, Hilda, and she'll like you. IfHilda consents," he added, looking first at one and then the other,"we'll be married from our town house in Mayfair. We will have a `real'proper marriage, ceremony, and it shall take place at St George's,Hanover Square."

  "Well! We'll leave all that until we get to Aldborough Park," intimatedthe prospective father-in-law. "I'm very anxious to meet your mother,and I trust we shall be friends. I believe you, my dear Raife, when youdescribe your mother's amiable disposition and charms, but I expect,with that modesty of yours, you have under-estimated the grandeur ofthat Tudor mansion which is also yours. Ah well, then! It's agreed westart for England as soon as we can."

  CHAP
TER NINETEEN.

  GILDA RECEIVES A STAGGERING BLOW.

  Gilda Tempest sat in her room in her uncle's well-appointed flat inBloomsbury. Her face showed traces of great mental strain. There wereno lines in her face, but a drawn expression, which her enemies wouldhave called haggard. She held a copy of the _Morning Post_, and wasreading it leisurely until her attention was attracted by a paragraph asfollows:

  "The engagement has been announced of Sir Raife Remington, Bart., of Aldborough Park, Tunbridge Wells, to Miss Hilda Muirhead, daughter of Reginald Pomeroy Muirhead, Esq., President of the Fifth National Bank of Illinois, U.S.A. We understand that the marriage will take place