Lillian's vow or, The mystery of Raleigh House
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PRICE 25 CENTS
Lillian’s Vow
BY MRS. E. BURKE COLLINS
THE SWEETHEART SERIES.
GEORGE
MUNRO’S
SONS,
PUBLISHERS,
17 to 27
VANDEWATER
STREET,
NEW YORK.
Copyright, 1898, by George Munro’s Sons.
By Subscription, $10.00 per Annum.
THE SWEETHEART SERIES.
This series contains the most popular books of the day. They are 12mos,
printed on good paper, in large, clear type, and bound in handsome
photogravure covers.
1 The Marquis Charles Garvice
2 Beautiful Ione’s Lover Laura Jean Libbey
3 The Midnight Marriage Mrs. Sumner Hayden
4 All For Love of a Fair Face Laura Jean Libbey
5 A Wasted Love Charles Garvice
6 Daisy Brooks Laura Jean Libbey
7 Leslie’s Loyalty Charles Garvice
8 Little Rosebud’s Lovers Laura Jean Libbey
9 Elaine Charles Garvice
10 A Struggle for a Heart Laura Jean Libbey
11 Claire Charles Garvice
12 Junie’s Love-Test Laura Jean Libbey
13 Her Heart’s Desire Charles Garvice
14 Leonie Locke Laura Jean Libbey
15 Her Ransom Charles Garvice
16 Madolin Rivers Laura Jean Libbey
17 A Coronet of Shame Charles Garvice
18 The Heiress of Cameron Hall Laura Jean Libbey
19 Woman Against Woman Mrs. M. A. Holmes
20 The Song of Miriam Marie Corelli
21 Lorrie; or, Hollow Gold Charles Garvice
22 His Perfect Trust Charlotte M. Braeme
23 Addie’s Husband By the Author of “Jessie”
24 The Heiress of Hilldrop Charlotte M. Braeme
25 For Another’s Sin Charlotte M. Braeme
26 Set in Diamonds Charlotte M. Braeme
27 The World Between Them Charlotte M. Braeme
28 A Passion Flower Charlotte M. Braeme
29 A True Magdalen Charlotte M. Braeme
30 A Woman’s Error Charlotte M. Braeme
31 Leonie, the Sweet Street Singer By the Author of
“For Mother’s Sake”
32 At War with Herself Charlotte M. Braeme
33 The Belle of Lynn Charlotte M. Braeme
34 The Shadow of a Sin Charlotte M. Braeme
35 Claribel’s Love Story Charlotte M. Braeme
36 A Woman’s War Charlotte M. Braeme
37 Lady Audley’s Secret Miss M. E. Braddon
38 Hilary’s Folly Charlotte M. Braeme
39 From Gloom to Sunlight Charlotte M. Braeme
40 A Haunted Life Charlotte M. Braeme
41 The Mystery of Colde Fell; or, Not Proven Charlotte M. Braeme
42 A Dark Marriage Morn Charlotte M. Braeme
43 The Duke’s Secret Charlotte M. Braeme
44 His Wife’s Judgment Charlotte M. Braeme
45 A Thorn in Her Heart Charlotte M. Braeme
46 A Nameless Sin Charlotte M. Braeme
47 A Mad Love Charlotte M. Braeme
48 Irene’s Vow Charlotte M. Braeme
49 Signa’s Sweetheart Charlotte M. Braeme
50 Not Like Other Girls Rosa N. Carey
For sale by all newsdealers and booksellers, or sent, postpaid, on
receipt of 25 cents each, or five copies for $1.00, by the publishers.
Address GEORGE MUNRO’S SONS,
17 to 27 VANDEWATER STREET, NEW YORK.
LILLIAN’S VOW;
OR,
THE MYSTERY OF RALEIGH HOUSE
BY
MRS. E. BURKE COLLINS.
COPYRIGHT, 1889, BY GEORGE MUNRO.
NEW YORK:
GEORGE MUNRO’S SONS, PUBLISHERS,
17 TO 27 VANDEWATER STREET.
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FERD. T. HOPKINS, Proprietor,
37 Great Jones St., New York.
For sale by all Druggists and Fancy Goods Dealers throughout the U. S.,
Canadas, and Europe.
Also found in N. Y. City at R. H. Macy’s, Wanamaker’s, and other Fancy
Goods Dealers. ☞ Beware of Base Imitations. $1,000 Reward for arrest
and proof of any one selling the same.
PRACTICAL PALMISTRY.
A TREATISE ON CHIROSOPHY,
BASED ON ACTUAL EXPERIENCES.
By HENRY FRITH.
WITH MANY ILLUSTRATIONS.
ALSO,
HOW TO HYPNOTIZE.
Including the Whole Art of Mesmerism.
By PROFESSOR BARTER.
This is the most comprehensive treatise on Palmistry and Hypnotism that
has ever been issued.
For sale by all newsdealers, or sent by mail, postage paid, on receipt
of 25 cents, by the publishers. Address
GEORGE MUNRO’S SONS, PUBLISHERS,
P. O. Box 1781. 17 to 27 Vandewater Street, New York.
LILLIAN’S VOW.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I. POOR LILLIAN!
CHAPTER II. MISS RALEIGH’S COMPANION.
CHAPTER III. HAUNTED.
CHAPTER IV. APRES!
CHAPTER V. JACK STRIKES A BLOW.
CHAPTER VI. IN THE ROUND ROOM.
CHAPTER VII. ROSAMOND SPEAKS HER MIND.
CHAPTER VIII. HER LORD AND MASTER.
CHAPTER IX. DECEIVED.
CHAPTER X. ACCEPTED.
CHAPTER XI. IN THE CONSERVATORY.
CHAPTER XII. FROM THE OTHER WORLD.
CHAPTER XIII. A GUILTY CONSCIENCE.
CHAPTER XIV. MISJUDGED.
CHAPTER XV. THE DIE IS CAST.
CHAPTER XVI. A TRYING ORDEAL.
CHAPTER XVII. A SNAKE IN THE GRASS.
CHAPTER XVIII. “BEWARE!”
CHAPTER XIX. BESSIE SEES THE GAME.
CHAPTER XX. GREEK MEETS GREEK.
CHAPTER XXI. IN AMBUSH.
CHAPTER XXII. HER FLIGHT.
CHAPTER XXIII. VAN ALSTYNE’S REVENGE.
CHAPTER XXIV. GONE TO HER DOOM.
CHAPTER XXV. FORGED FETTERS.
CHAPTER XXVI. FACE TO FACE.
CHAPTER XXVII. UNMASKED.
CHAPTER XXVIII. GEOFFREY GREY ATONES.
CHAPTER XXIX. DISCOVERED.
CHAPTER XXX. THE END.
CHAPTER I.
POOR LILLIAN!
“Help! Help!”
A hoarse groan, a stifled cry, then silence settled down. A clear,
crisp wintery night, with the great city lying asleep beneath an
opal-tinted sky, the rush and roar of the day’s turmoil temporarily
suspended. It was late, and few people were abroad, especially upon
this retired street, where a flickering, flaring electric light threw a
yellow glare over the scene.
A man--old and white-haired, frail and feeble--was struggling in the
grasp of strong hands, while a dark face, over which a broad-brimmed
felt hat was slouched, so that his eyes and the upper part of his face
were hidden from sight, bent over him, glaring down into the white,
frightened countenance of his victim.
That this was no common case of garroting or highway robbery was
apparent at a glance.
“Where is it?” hissed the assailant. “Give it to me at once, Gilbert
Leigh, or, as sure as I live, I will kill you! Give me the book--the
memorandum-book in your possession, with all its contents undisturbed!
You _must_ do it! You shall, Gilbert Leigh! You hold my liberty, my
very life, in your hands. You must be mad to think that I would let you
go until I have gained possession of the book! Give it to me, I say,
or--”
The strong fingers of his right hand tightened their hold upon the
old man’s throat, while the other hand went into the inner pocket of
the thick, warm overcoat that the old man wore. Something was quickly
transferred from the pocket to that of the assailant--something
which proved to be a long, leathern book fastened with a band of
stout elastic. The dusky eyes under the slouched hat sparkled with
gratification, and low under his breath he panted swiftly:
“I have it! The book is mine! And so will perish every clew to my
guilt! I would die before the truth should be known! Why, this old
man held proofs which would have ruined me and ousted me from my high
position! I would--”
“Stop!”
The word, gasped feebly, fell from the pale lips of the half-dead old
man.
“Listen to me,” he went on, brokenly, as the hold of the other
gradually relaxed from about his throat. “I have a word to say.
In--in--my investigations among the books and papers of your
office--investigations which I was commanded to make by my superiors--I
have discovered that you are not only a forger and embezzler--a living
disgrace to the time-honored name that you bear--but that you are--”
He bent his gray head and whispered a few words in the ears of the
other man. With a savage howl, like a wild beast suddenly let loose
upon its prey, he flashed about and grasped the old man once more by
the throat. There was murder now in the dark eyes gleaming under the
broad-brimmed felt hat.
“_Die!_” he panted, hoarsely, “you miserable old spy! Say your prayers
now, for I am going to kill you!”
“By Jove! we’ll see about that!” cried a clear, ringing voice, as firm
footsteps drew rapidly near, and a tall figure came to an abrupt halt.
Crash! went a blow--a back-handed, powerful blow--which landed directly
in the chest of the would-be assassin. There was a dull thud as a dark
form dropped to the pavement, then the electric light went out in that
sudden and exasperating way which electric lights are prone to do upon
the smallest provocation, and when it flared up once more, the limp,
lifeless form upon the pavement and the tall figure of the new-comer
bending over it were the only objects in sight. The new-comer, the
man who had struck the blow, was tall and handsome, with pale, olive
complexion, soft, dark eyes and waves of dark hair. A face good to
look at anywhere. He stooped and peered into the old man’s upturned
countenance, a delicate patrician face, with clear-cut features, and a
broad forehead with a fringe of soft white hair.
“I’m afraid he’s dead, poor fellow!” said the young man, ruefully.
“Well, of course it will be another item for the ‘Daily Thunderer,’ and
I wouldn’t be a hard-working journalist, with my fortune all to make,
if I did not welcome an item.”
He was speaking lightly, as one accustomed to such scenes, but there
was an under-current of feeling in his voice which revealed the kindly
heart beating in his breast.
He drew from his pocket a policeman’s whistle and blew a shrill blast.
Silence for a moment, during which time the young man proceeded to tear
open the old man’s shirt-collar, and lift the white head to give him a
little air.
There was no sign of life. The chest did not move, the white hands lay
limp and lifeless at his side.
Tramp, tramp, down the street, swift and straight, came the echo of