Continuted from page 3996, Part 33

By J. A. Brendon

The heavy coach rolled rapidly away, leaving Master Axford, the new-pledged bridegroom, standing in the doorway of the church, helpless and bewildered.

He knew not what to think, or how to act. But at this one cannot wonder. Romance - Romance with a big R - very, very rarely penetrated the small world in which he lived. He was merely a grocer's assistant, quite dull, very respectable, eminently worthy. And, really, the situation in which he found himself might have surprised a man very much more experienced in such matters. For in that coach sat the bride - a demure, innocent little Quaker girl - to whom he had not yet been wedded for five minutes, and with her the heir to the British throne !

The Machinations Of Elizabeth Chudleigh

Only Elizabeth Chudleigh could have arranged such a scene. Were it to be attributed to anybody else, one would be justified in regarding the whole story as a delightful fable imagined by some fanciful romancer. But then Elizabeth Chudleigh was responsible, and for her no idea was too fantastic. No woman, moreover, ever possessed so extraordinary a talent for carrying such notions into effect.

In the present case, she had deliberately undertaken to frustrate her own intentions. The idea appealed irresistibly to her sense of the ridiculous. And the manner in which she fulfilled her dual contract marks it as one of the finest achievements recorded in the history of intrigue, certainly the most artistic.

George, Prince of Wales, had commissioned her to help him woo and win the lady of his heart, one Hannah Lightfoot, who assisted in the shop of her uncle, a certain Mr. Wheeler, linendraper. And Elizabeth promised to undertake the task.

But before long those responsible for George's welfare heard of the intrigue, and forthwith commissioned the same Elizabeth Chudleigh somehow to dispose of this young woman, this very undesirable young woman, who was captivating the Prince's young affection. Again she promised assistance. And her idea of finding a suitable husband for Hannah Lightfoot met with immediate approbation. To this quest, moreover, the girl's guardians also lent their warm support ; in fact, they could not thank Elizabeth sufficiently for helping them to save their ward from danger.

And so, on December I I, 1753, poor, unhappy, disillusioned Hannah found herself standing before the altar at Keith's chapel in Mayfair, promising to ' love, honour, and obey " a mean little grocer's assistant whom she, the chosen loved-one of a Prince, disliked intensely. She was much too simple, much too obedient to resist. But, still, she was a woman. And that love's young dream should end thus, through no fault of hers, seemed very cruel. She cared not for place or power. Love was all she wanted, the love of her gay, young cavalier. Poor child ! no wonder her heart was filled with sorrow.

But George, of course, was sublimely ignorant of these happenings. Indeed, he knew nothing until suddenly one morning - the morning of December 11 - he received urgent word from Elizabeth Chud-leigh, bidding him hasten to Keith's Chapel with all speed, prepared for any emergency.

Forthwith he summoned his coach - by some strange chance he found it ready, waiting! - jumped in, and set out for May-fair. Not a moment had been wasted, and he arrived before Keith's Chapel just as the bride and bridegroom were emerging. At a glance he realised the situation. To delay, obviously would be fatal. With scant courtesy, therefore, he pushed Master Axford on one side, his body quivering with emotion, his eyes aflame with love and anger, seized Hannah in his arms, and bundled her into the coach, shouting to the postilions to drive - drive anywhere. But they had already received their orders, and the coach rumbled off along the rough, cobbled road.

And just then Elizabeth Chudleigh slipped away, silently and unnoticed, through the crowd. She felt quite delighted with the success of her manoeuvres.

Master Axford Waxes Indignant

But the bridegroom, although only a grocer's assistant, was a man of spirit. It is true he cared but little for Hannah ; he had married her mainly for her dower, and that he had received already. None the less, he could not stand tamely by and allow her to be kidnapped on her wedding-day before his very eyes. No man can tolerate being fooled.

And so he called bravely for a horse. Someone lent him one. He mounted in haste, and perhaps none too gracefully, gathered the reins in his hands, and set out in hot pursuit. But a long start had been secured by the Prince's coach, which now appeared no more than a speck in the far distance. Still, the untramelled horseman gained ground rapidly, and soon was within hailing distance. At yonder turnpike surely he could not fail to overtake the fugitives. He dared even to rein in his horse a little, and summoning all the courage and dignity at his command, schooled himself for the great moment.

But then - " Royal Family ! Royal Family !" - he could hear the voice of the postilion clearly. Instantly the gate swung open, and the coach passed through without being checked, even for a minute, in its course, and before the horseman could follow, the gate had closed again with a clang of triumph.

"■ Zounds ! "

Utterly exasperated, and, indeed, not without reason, Master Axford waxed angry, and fumbled in his pockets for a coin. But haste made him clumsy, and his indignation, instead of hurrying the turnpike man, only provoked him to ribald merriment. Thus several precious minutes were wasted before the outraged husband found himself again upon the road; and by then the coach had already disappeared from sight. But still he hastened forward, and now with a renewed determination, until at last he arrived at cross roads. And here his troubles began in very earnest. Which way had the fugitives taken ? He could only guess. He tried each road in turn, but still without success. He had lost them, and from then until the day of his death he neither saw nor heard again from Hannah Lightfoot. She vanished utterly.