The Lost Lady of Lone. Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte Southworth

upon the mystery.

      No one, except Cuddie McGill, the saddler's apprentice, could be found who had seen the suspicious man and woman lurking under the balcony.

      Certainly Lord Arondelle remembered the "dream" Miss Levison had told him of the two persons whom she mistook to be himself and Rose Cameron talking together under her window. But Miss Levison was so far incapable of giving evidence as to be lying at the point of death with brain fever. So it would have been worse than useless to have spoken of her dream, or supposed dream.

      The coroner's inquest sat several days without arriving at any definite conclusion.

      The most plausible theory of the murder seemed to be that a robbery had been planned between the valet and certain unknown confederates, who had all been tempted by the great treasures known to be in the castle that night in the form of costly bridal presents; that no murder was at first intended; that the confederates had been secretly admitted to the castle through the connivance of the valet; that the strong guard placed over the treasures in the lighted drawing-room had saved them from robbery; that the robbers, disappointed of their first expectations, next went, with the farther connivance of the valet, to the bedchamber of Sir Lemuel Levison, for the purpose of emptying his strong box; that being detected in their criminal designs by the wakeful banker, they had silenced him by one fatal blow on the head; that they had then accomplished the robbery of the strong box, and of the person of the deceased banker; and had been secretly let out of the castle by the valet.

      Finally, it was thought that the man and the woman discovered under the balcony by Cuddie McGill on the night of the murder, were confederates in the crime, and the woman was the midnight passenger to whom Donald McNeil sold the second-class railway ticket to London, and that the heavy black bag she carried contained the booty taken from the castle.

      On the evening of the third day of the unsatisfactory inquest a verdict was returned to this effect.

      That the deceased Sir Lemuel Levison, Knight, had come to his death by a blow from a heavy bronze statuette held in the hands of some person unknown to the jury. And that Peters, the valet of the deceased banker, was accessory to the murder.

      A coroner's warrant was immediately issued, and the valet was arrested, and confined in jail to await the action of the grand jury.

      An experienced detective officer was sent upon the track of the mysterious, vailed woman, with the heavy black bag, who on the night of the murder had taken the midnight train from Lone to London.

      Then at length the coroner's jury adjourned, and Castle Lone was cleared of the law officers and all others who had remained there in attendance upon the inquest.

      And the preparations for the funeral of the deceased banker were allowed to go on.

      In addition to the long train of servants there remained now in the castle but seven persons:

      The young lady of the house, who lay prostrate and unconscious upon the bed of extreme illness or death; Lady Belgrade, who in all this trouble had nearly lost her wits; the Marquis of Arondelle, who had been requested to take the direction of affairs; the old Duke of Hereward, who had been brought to the castle in a helpless condition; the family physician, who had turned over all his other patients to his assistant, and was now devoting himself to the care of the unhappy daughter of the house; and lastly the family solicitor, and his clerk, who were down for the obsequies.

      Beside these, the undertaker and his men came and went while completing their preparations for the funeral.

      There had been some talk of embalming the body, and delaying the burial, until the daughter of the deceased banker should view her father's face once more; but the impossibility of restoring the crushed skull to shape rendered it advisable that she should not be shocked by a sight of it. So the day of the funeral was set.

      But before that day came, another important event occurred at Lone Castle. It was not entirely unexpected. The old Duke of Hereward, since his arrival at the castle, had sunk very fast. He had been carefully guarded from the knowledge of the tragedy which had been enacted within its walls. He knew nothing of the murder of Sir Lemuel Levison, or even of the banker's presence in the castle. His failing mind had gone back to the past, and he fondly imagined himself, as of yore, the Lord of Lone and of all its vast revenues. The presence and attendance of all his old train of servants, who, as I said before, had been kindly retained in the service of the banker's family, helped the happy illusion in which the last days of the old duke were passed, until one afternoon, just as the sun was sinking out of sight behind Ben Lone, the old man went quietly to sleep in his arm-chair, and never woke again in this world.

      A few days after this, in the midst of a large concourse of friends, neighbors and mourners, the mortal remains of Archibald-Alexander-John Scott, Duke of Hereward and Marquis of Arondelle, in the peerage of England, and Lord of Lone and Baron Scott, in the peerage of Scotland, were laid side by side with those of Sir Lemuel Levison, Kt., in the family vault of Lone.

      The reading of the late banker's will was deferred until his daughter and sole heiress should be in a condition to attend it.

      And the family solicitor took it away with him to London to keep until it should be called for.

      The crisis of Salome's illness passed safely. She was out of the imminent danger of death, though she was still extremely weak.

      The family physician returned to his home and his practice in the village of Lone, and only visited his patient at the castle morning and evening.

      Now, therefore, besides the train of household servants, there remained at the castle but three inmates—Salome Levison, reduced by sorrow and illness to a state of infantile feebleness of mind and body; Lady Belgrade, nearly worn out with long watching, fatigue, and anxiety; and the young Marquis of Arondelle, whom we must henceforth designate as the Duke of Hereward, and whom even the stately dowager, who was "of the most straitest sect, a Pharisee" of conventional etiquette, nevertheless implored to remain a guest at the castle until after the recovery of the heiress, and the reading of the father's will.

      The young duke who wished nothing more than to be near his bride, readily consented to stay.

      But Salome's recovery was so slow, and her frame so feeble, that she seemed to have re-entered life through a new infancy of body and mind.

      Strangely, however, through all her illness she seemed not to have lost the memory of its cause—her father's shocking death. Thus she had no new grief or horror to experience.

      No one spoke to her of the terrible tragedy. She herself was the first to allude to it.

      The occasion was this:

      On the first day on which she was permitted to leave her bedchamber and sit for awhile in an easy resting chair, beside the open window of her boudoir, to enjoy the fresh air from the mountain and the lake, she sent for the young duke to come to her.

      He eagerly obeyed the summons, and hastened to her side.

      He had not been permitted to see her since her illness, and now he was almost overwhelmed with sorrow to see into what a mere shadow of her former self she had faded.

      As she reclined there in her soft white robes, with her long, dark hair flowing over her shoulders, so fair, so wan, so spiritual she looked, that it seemed as if the very breeze from the lake might have wafted her away.

      He dropped on one knee beside her, and embraced and kissed her hands, and then sat down next her.

      After the first gentle greetings were over, she amazed him by turning and asking:

      "Has the murderer been discovered yet?"

      "No, my beloved, but the detectives have a clue, that they feel sure will lead to the discovery and conviction of the wretch," answered the young duke, in a low voice.

      "Where have they laid the body of my dear father?" she next inquired in a low hushed tone.

      "In the family vault beside those of my own parents," gravely replied the young man.