Movies – Vampire who Killed

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about her the garment, almost torn from her body by the lust of her busharars hireling. Slim read in hi: hard, pitiless glance that she wag beaten at last in her gallant, desperate game, knew that no words she could say would save her, and yet said them, with trembling lips That strove for control, with fearful. ago. Milne earnestness. even with piteous. futile little efforts to appeal to TUN pity. his old affection. Hie pilyl .\s well might she have struggled to stop the lightning flashes with her small, naked hands.

“Leak, at yourself !” he sneered. inuli-cating her uncovered limbs, her torn, disheveled hair. “A likely story! You—” and he called her a vile name that streaked her face like a white whip-lash. She cowered from him, and from the vision of the future his words evoked, ut divorced woman. stained with public shame. driven out of her husband’s house to drift in dubious and always nvore du-bious circles in pins incial towns upon the Continent, the butt of whispers, the prey of adventuring men…

And suddenly she began to shriek in a Thrill. tearing, senseless way. She was a cornered animal thing, bereft of human. hod& save that her shrieks took the form of wor:. -God! Oh, God’ Dont let him! Dont let him! Oh! Oh! Please. God!”

He choked Ike cries with great. cruel hands. “Dont be a damn fool. There’s no one to hear you, no one that would Cate if he did—”

“And there,” said a new voice, in an odd. breathless fashion. -there’s where you’re mistaken, my friend! I heard, and 1—care, Take your hands off her or I’ll be delighted to kill you. you hound .”

Richard Loring advanced from the threshold, very white and quite Mint• lously a nun, with his great shoulders squared, his hands clenched into sledge-hammers. Sir Archibald made a mis-take. He pointed derisively at the shak-ing figure of the woman, crouched against the wall. He laughed. And Richard Luring sprang toward him, knocking the lamp mer as he sprang.

Clutching her torn gown about her. Lady Falkland Red from the pavilion into the storm, and thus a hack way to the house and her nwu rooms, where she fell in a swoon upon the Hoer. And afterward, with only the maid to watch over her, she fought a hundred desper-ate, delirious lit,thts all night long.

The finding of Sir Archibald Falkland’s bruised body in the disordered pavilion the following morning set all Constantinople buzzing. The mystery was not who could have wished to kill him, but which one of the many who had MR to wish to kill him had finally ao comp lished the deed. It was Lady Edith, distraught over the ruin of her plans, who accused her rival, the wife of the dead man.

“Ask Lady Falkland where she was!” she clamored. “Ask the servants who I saw them quarreling in the )X11/11100 Ask sk her maid how her mistress came in last night!”

The obvious absurdity of accusing the frail little woman who lay raving up-stair% in the flaming clutch of fever was slightly mitigated by the fact that the -otherwise greatly bruised and torn, it was plain that what had caused the baro-met’s death was the thrust of a knife which was found beside the body and which Lady Edith instantly identified as belonging to the wife. Within three hours lady Falkland had been publicly accused of the murder of her husband, and in spite of the fact that she Issas too ill to be lifted from her bed, the trial was begun in the library of the Falkland mansion.

It had hardly begun when a servant came, soft-footed, to the side of the Mar-Aal. a gout. kindly, conservative Eng-lishman, and whispered to Min that some one wished to speak to him outside. In the hall, Richard Loring, haggard with sleeplessness but dressed immaculately and very cairn, rose up to meet him.

“I have been told,” he spoke, slowlv, as the testing each word, “that Lady Falk -taint has been accused of the murder of her husband. Is that true?”

The Marshal nodded, regretful but tremendously official. “And she is very ill. too, poor lady. But one mustn’t kt pity interfere with the law. The trial is even now proceeding within, and the tes-timony of the servants seems conclusive-No doubt she had cause. I have heard stories, really beastly stoner, but what can one do? The law—hem—the law must be preserved.”

Then you shall try another prisoner,” Loring said, jaw set in a grim line, “for it was 1 who killed the degenerate beast who was torturing her. That is, I had the honor of contributing greatly toward the happy result, altho it was a Greater than I who turned his own knifeagaintt him in the struggk, I refer to the Lord, who always had great reverence for women.”

The Marshal chewed Ms straw-colored mustache in dire perplexity. “H-m! Most ‘straonlinary! Two murderers, and you say he WAS–h-m—torturing her.”

“He was taunting her with the threat that he was going to shame her publicly for the lustful attack made on her by a man in his pay.” Richard Loring did not raise his voice, but the low words seemed to Ml the hall with hideous clamor. The Marshal, a family man with two young daughters, writhed vis-ibly. “I happen to love the lady I have kwed her for seven years. But if I had been a perfect stranger, I could have dote nn less than I did, and still call myself a man.”

The Marshal walked the ha11 in deep dejection. “H-m ! But there must be an accused. It is obvious there must be an secured Aha!” He actually chuckled, this absurd;simple creature. “I have the There is a criminal, a desperate creature who broke jail last night and was found drowned in the Dardanelles this morning. Now hr would make an ideal accused for us—”

On the narrow ledge of the tower parapet Gloria, Lady Falkland stood and looked out dreamily into the pure Nue deeps of the sky, Her fragile night 4aperies floated about her: a strange, mysterious smile curved her white lips. The fever was gone, the horror of the night, and the years before the night was passed and at Ian freedom awaited, and forgetfulness and peace.

“I shall sleep well,” murmured Lady Falkland- The boy will go back tb En;land to my sister. He will smell the spnng in Sussex. lie will *et the haw-thorn IMOITI—white—like bridal wreaths —but I shall he sleeping, so soundly that I think I shall not even dream—” She took a step toward the edge of the palatal, But before she could take another, strong arms were about her, drawing her back to life. “Not yet, Gloria. my beloved!” cried Richard Loring -We will go luck to England together, and the white haw-thorn shall lie your bridal wreath– ” “Dick! You must nee keep me,’ she moaned. tho she clung to him with quite earthly terror, her overwrought mood gone. “They accuse me—and I have written a confession so that they could never accuse you. Dt3r, it was Ole only way. I couldn’t bear—any more—” ‘Chat is all over.” he told her gently; by and by I will explain. Rut no one accuses either of us, nor ever will. There is nothing for you to die for. There is everything for you to live for Gloria! Gloria. listen to me, my dearest. Let me tell you what there is to live for—”

And as he told her Death drew back, discomfited, and all about them the air was splendid with the shinings wings of Love…