Stolen Souls Part 24

As we sped south, I became more fully convinced that they meant mischief. Looking at my watch, I found that in twenty minutes we should be at Amiens, and determined to change into another carriage there.

Patiently I sat, gazing out of the window watching the grey streak of dawn break over the low, distant hills, when suddenly I felt a terrible crus.h.i.+ng blow on the top of my skull.

At the same moment I drew forth my revolver and pulled the trigger.

Then a darkness fell upon me, and I remember nothing more.

The sensation was horrible; the pain excruciating. It seemed as though a thousand red-hot needles were being thrust into my brain.

Slowly the terrible throbbing in my head abated, and I found myself seated in an armchair in a well-furnished, though unfamiliar, drawing-room. It was lit by tiny electric lamps, shaded with canary silk; and, as I gazed round in abject astonishment, I noticed a pretty fernery beyond, which looked like a mermaid's grotto in the depths of the sea, so dense was the ma.s.s of dimly-illuminated greenery.

My first thoughts were of my charge, and I felt for my pouch, in which I had carried a bundle of bank-notes.

It was not there! Placing my hand upon my chin, I was startled to find that I had a beard, while on the previous night I had been clean shaven!

And the box of bullion--where was that?

I started to my feet, and as I did so, my figure was reflected in a long mirror. I staggered back in dismay, for, although last night I was a sprightly and spruce young man of thirty, my hair was now turning grey, and my face so aged and wrinkled that I could scarcely recognise myself!

Where was I? What could it all mean?

I saw a bell, and rang it hastily.

My summons was quickly answered by a sharp-featured man, who was evidently not a servant.

"Tell me, who brought me here? Whose house is this?" I demanded.

He gazed at me, open-mouthed, in astonishment.

"I--er--You're not well, sir, I think. This is your own house."

"Mine?" I cried incredulously. "Nonsense. Who are you, pray?"

"I'm your secretary," he replied, adding, "I--I'll return in a moment;"

and then, in evident alarm, he disappeared.

I had no time to reflect upon the mystery of the situation before there entered a tall, beautiful woman, of what might be termed the Junoesque type, attired in a handsome dinner-gown.

"Why, my dear, whatever have you been saying to Norton? You've quite frightened him," she exclaimed, laughing. "How is it that you're not dressed? You remember we promised to dine with the Websters to-night."

"I--I confess I don't understand you, madam," I gasped, for my brain was in a whirl, and everything seemed in maddening confusion. The pain in my head was intense.

"What's the matter? What has happened?" she cried in alarm. "Don't you recognise me--Lena, your wife?"

"My wife?" I gasped, astounded. "No, I've never seen you before. It's some trick. Where is the box--the box that was with me in the train?"

Her look of distress deepened, as she said, "Calm yourself, my dear.

You are not well, and must have advice."

"I want none," I replied hotly. "I desire nothing beyond the box.

These are not my clothes," I said, glancing in puzzled confusion at the coat I wore. "Where are mine?"

"I don't comprehend your meaning," said the handsome woman who called herself my wife. "Your mind must be wandering, Harry."

"That's not my name. I am Charles Deane."

"No, no, dear," she cried. "You are under some strange delusion. What can have happened to you? You are Henry Medhurst, and I am Lena Medhurst, your wife."

"Where and when did you marry me, pray?"

"In Cape Town, five years ago."

"In Cape Town? And where are we now?"

"This is your house, situate, I think, to be exact, two and a half miles from Johannesburg. Is there anything else you desire to know?" she added, with a smile, half inclined to believe that I was joking.

The crowd of thoughts and feelings that burst upon my mind was indescribable. Was I still myself, or was it all a delusion?

No. It was a stern reality; a deep, inexplicable mystery.

"I married you five years ago, you say. Then what year of grace is this?"

"Come," replied my wife, "such fooling is out of place, dear. You know as well as I that it is 1893."

"What!" I cried, feeling myself grow rigid in amazement. "_Yesterday was ten years ago_!"

I was undoubtedly wide awake and sensible, but that I was really myself I began to doubt. I struggled to comprehend the situation, but failed.

How I came to be in South Africa, the possessor of such a mansion, the husband of such a wife, was a problem beyond solution. I felt light-headed, for the horrible suspense was goading me into a frenzy of madness.

"There must be some--some serious mistake," I said calmly. "I've never had the pleasure of setting eyes upon you before this evening, and am utterly at a loss to understand who or what I am."

She regarded me with a terrified expression; her face suddenly blanched, and she would have fallen, had I not caught her and placed her upon the settee.

Ringing the bell again, a maid-servant answered my summons.

"Your mistress has fainted. Call some one to her a.s.sistance," I said; and then I proceeded to explore the house. It was a splendid modern mansion, and by the bright moonlight I discerned that it was surrounded by a well-kept lawn and clumps of fine old trees.

I was utterly unable to realise that the journey to Paris had been made ten years before; nevertheless, my aged appearance, my beard, the fact of my marriage, and my apparent opulence, all combined to confirm her statement. In vain I tried to recollect the incidents of that memorable night; but, beyond the knowledge that I received a terrible blow, I could remember nothing.

Pacing in distraction the broad terrace that ran before the house, I suddenly heard footsteps behind me. Turning, I confronted the man who called himself my secretary.

"Griffiths, the manager of Pike's Reef, has just arrived from Pretoria, and wishes to see you on important business, sir."

"To see me? What for?"

"He desires instructions regarding the Reef. They've struck the lead at last, and the crus.h.i.+ngs show it to be one of the richest veins in the Randt. Shall I bring him to you?"

"No," I replied savagely; "I want to be alone. I haven't the slightest notion of what you're talking about."