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Page 34
There is a gleam of malice in his eyes, but Florence, whose gaze is
turned disdainfully away from him, fails to see it. She changes color
indeed beneath his words, but makes him no reply, and, when they reach
the dining-room, in a very marked manner she takes a seat far removed
from his.
There is a sinister expression in his eyes and round his mouth as he
notes this studied avoidance.
CHAPTER VIII.
It is now "golden September," and a few days later. For the last
fortnight Florence has been making strenuous efforts to leave the
castle, but Dora would not hear of their departure, and Florence,
feeling it will be selfish of her to cut short Dora's happy hours with
her supposed lover, sighs, and gives in, and sacrifices her own wishes
on the altar of friendship.
It is five o'clock, and all the men, gun in hand, have been out since
early dawn. Now they are coming straggling home, in ones or twos.
Amongst the first to return are Sir Adrian and his cousin Arthur
Dynecourt, who, having met accidentally about a mile from home, have
trudged the remainder of the way together.
On the previous night at dinner, Miss Delmaine had spoken of a small
gold bangle, a favorite of hers, she was greatly in the habit of
wearing. She said she had lost it--when or where she could not tell;
and she expressed herself as being very grieved for its loss, and had
laughingly declared she would give any reward claimed by any one who
should restore it to her. Two or three men had, on the instant, pledged
themselves to devote their lives to the search; but Adrian had said
nothing. Nevertheless, the bangle and the reward remained in his mind
all that night and all to-day. Now he can not refrain from speaking
about it to the man he considers his rival.
"Odd thing about Miss Delmaine's bangle," he remarks carelessly.
"Very odd. I dare say her maid has put it somewhere and forgotten it."
"Hardly. One would not put a bracelet anywhere but in a jewel-case, or
in a special drawer. She must have dropped it somewhere."
"I dare say; those Indian bangles are very liable to be rubbed off the
wrist."
"But where? I have had the place searched high and low, and still no
tidings of it can be found."
"There may have been since we left home this morning."
Just at this moment they come within full view of the old tower, and
its strange rounded ivy-grown walls, and the little narrow holes in the
sides they show at its highest point that indicate the position of the
haunted chamber.
What is there at this moment in a mere glimpse of this old tower to make
Arthur Dynecourt grow pale and to start so strangely? His eyes grow
brighter, his lips tighten and grow hard.
"Do you remember," he says, turning to his cousin with all the air of
one to whom a sudden inspiration has come, "that day on which we visited
the haunted chamber? Miss Delmaine accompanied us, did she not?"
"Yes"--looking at him expectantly.
"Could she have dropped it there?" asks Arthur lightly. "By Jove, it
would be odd if she had--eh? Uncanny sort of place to drop one's
trinkets."
"It is strange I didn't think of it before," responds Adrian, evidently
struck by the suggestion. "Why, it must have been just about that time
when she lost it. The more I think of it the more convinced I feel that
it must be there."
"Nonsense, my dear fellow; don't jump at conclusions so hastily! It is
highly improbable. I should say that she dropped it anywhere else in the
world."
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