Heart of Gold.

Auckland Star, Volume LIX, Issue 232, 1 October 1928, Page 17

Heart of Gold.

ft By C. M. MATHESON | Author of "NUT IN THE HUSK," elc. etc.

,fL : /I'll:'':' iliiiiiiiiijilliM I CHAPTER XXII. were dragging the lakes. A strange hoarse cry broke from Jim and he ran faster. On the banks of the placid water was a gathering of men. On the far side also men moved, drawing t'he heavy chains through the lake. Jim broke through the crowd to the water's brink »n<l stood there, dizzy with fear «nrl hunger" a nd weariness, panting, almost out "of his mind. A strong hand fell on his shoulder. R.".Tim Lacy! You here!" He whirled found, face to face with Tom •Mallory. _ "You -liere!" shouted Tom again. •"You!" : >"Yrs. I'm here." Jim echoed. iow did you get here?" jf'Tve walked- " • '■•"Walked ?" '•"All the way from London. Mrs. Mallory told me " from London!" "*-"I started yesterday morning. I've been walking day and night. Mrs. Ma]lory\t<#(l me Doreen was lost. She told mc'tv*. ! vfom threw Jim from him. The crowd (jf men. sportsmen and beaters, watched the two. .-■T'You're the chap." Tom said deliberately, "that's answerable for this. Before God, you're answerable for my girl. You ieft her in all the trouble she had. '{iouble that she took on herself to save vou " vJim turned passionately to the crowd. can't say anything to me that I haven't said already about myself," he tins we red. "and if Doreen is in there,. in that water. I shall follow her. If she's iSt there there's nothing left " j ,-ihe man —" began Tom tfjfain. V r ->'\ 1 .'"f'Hold Mallory," put in another tfoice. "Plenty of time for hard words titer on. Wa.it till we've found her." ;H"What do' you expect to find, my hifdasked Tom. bitterly. "We've cjffme to such a job as this " ■xV'Onlv a matter of form," said Lord Scotley. 'Tin convinced she's alive. Keep up your' heart." 7ißrave words on the very brink of death! )Yitb dragging chains at his. ?«et. With the gaze of the crowd intent oil the water. Jim turned to the speaker. V'My lord, Pm with you," he said, not dead. You won't find her U£re. There was a-young girl last night Stalking to London " : -•n'Walking to London! A-ypung girl - | it at. the if«i." Jim' Sbrriedly"' told hrs story. Told, too, of Ijjs search, his inquiries. i"A car and plenty of searchers would jg&ve a better chance to find her than I IjJid singlehanded," he said. 2"Tom "Mallory was already hastening jftjwards the house. right, Lacy," said Lord Scott. "You'd better go with Mallory. come, too. Carry the rest you. It is a matter of'tform, but sets ggubt at .\esf". -Come with me,' Lacy." followed the young 'earl in Tone's He was faint with hunger, with tietv, with wearines*, but he hardly w his body had needs. He hastened xrg the incline to the house. :jv"Wait for me here." \7'YeVmy lord." "'Jim waited. He turned and looked ffwn at' r tle placid blue water, the little knot of people, the rippling of the lake that was in process of being dragged. Hunger and weariness and anxiety combined to depress his enthusiasm. Despondently he despondently he lifted his eyes and looked about him at the wide view of park and gardens. If one ignored the group at the lake and their sinister proceedings, the scene was extremely beautiful and peaceful. Jim thought to himself, "A good place to live. A good place. Doreen loved it ■" Lord Scotley came out again and joined him. A car rounded the corner. Tom Mallory at the wheel. The" young lord and Jim got in and were driven rapidly across the park. Jim, sitting by Tom;-was silent. The ear raced smoothly along the road over which he had toiled. Jim glanced down at his boots white with dust, at his dusty suit. He glanced at Mallory's face; it was hard and set. The man had formerly been a good friend to him, but his voice had expressed bitterness and anger amounting to hatred when he had spoken at the lake side. Jim thought, "Once we find Doreen he won't be so dead against me. If I could only be the one to find her, to give her back, he'd be himself again. Hatred is a bad thing—" Occasionally as they approached cross roads Tom would snap out "Which way?" and Jim would answer ftim. Lord Scotley leant over the back of the seat. "What inquiries did you make, Lacy?" "Xot many, my lord. I went up to the farm, but no one there knew anything. I searched the buildings in case she'd spent the night there. I asked an old woman if she knew anything about a young girl walking to London. No one seemed to know. The farmer's wife said if one person in the village knew anything they all would." "Very likely. Of course, the girl who called at the inn may not have been Doreen at all." "Xo, my lord." ( The car sped rhythmically over the smooth, dry roads. It raced through the villages tili&ord Scotley sternly checked MalTorv's recklessness. "You won't find the girl if you break your said. "It's not far now." Jim said, and a few moments later they came to the tiny hamlet; they rushed up the winding hill toward the inn. As thev rounded the ; Jast corner they were greeted by a rush of thick smoke and a small crowd of country people, children a;id hens broke before themLord Srotleje raised himself in the car. "Good lgrd-l" he exclaimed, "what's happened ?r " " The slatjerrdy girl Jim had talked to that mormng.-came runnier out of the inn sere filing "Fire! Fire!" Other people—air old woman, an elderly man, two vounft'fellows —came rushing after her. "Fire! ;Fire!" they screamed. .. "The inn's on fire," said.Jim. "It's the thatch." said Lord Scotleyj. "Don't the people mean to do anything •xcept scream and prance?"he added. The*, elderly man was bounding down the lTm'd■> towards the farm. While he Was gone the people gabbled and stared. The slittoke 'from the dry thatch poured Out. arid presently flames lighted it. The people "redoubled their screams. Lord Fcotley got out of the car. Jim also got out. The clderlv man came back with

one of the farm hands and a ladder, He planted the ladder and began to mount. A woman—the elder one who had come out of the inn—shrieked: "Don't you go up there. Don't you go up there, Ebenezer, you great fool." The slatternly girl cried "Dad! Dad!" "What on earth is he going to do?" Lord Scotlev asked. "Why don't they get water?" * j ' He's going to tear out the thatch, my lord," said Jim. "What with? His bare hands? He'll only release the flames." The intrepid innkeeper had reached the roof and was tearing at the straw. He dragged out a handful of it and cast it from him. The crowd gabbled and shrieked and ran back. Sparks flew, flames spurted. Lord Scotley said: "It's well alight by this time. Can we do anything ?" He went nearer and said to the labourer "Water? A hose? Have you a hose anywhere?" "Xo, sir. Pond's dry too." The innkeeper half fell, half ran down the . ladder, driven from his vantage by the burning. The .house was now well alight, flames shot out of the upper window; there was a crackling noise. Tom Mallory left his seat in the car and approached his master. "We shall never get any sense out of these people while this is going on, my lord," he said. At that Jim said: "I'll ask that girl, anyway—" They'll never save the inn now," said Lord' Scotley. .'"l've never seen a more helpless set of people in my life," he added.

"There's no water. They don't know what to do, my }ord," said Jim. "No water. That's what's keeping them back." _" -, A ; Jim moved away. - Some of the men in the cluster of people began ,to make abortive and fruitless effort's to bring out the furniture. They dragged out. chairs, a small table, kitchen utensils, the chattels of the poor little place, tlien the girl, the innkeeper's daughter, caught sight of Jim and cried out: •; "You here, again! I said you'd bring us bad luck. I said so. . Father, that's the man who was here this morning—" Her father took no notice of her. He toiled in and out of his house to save as much as possible of his belongings. His daughter said: "Two wastrels we had here. That man and.a girl. It's bad luck—" Jim seized his opportunity to ask: "Where's the girl now?" Her reply startled him. "In there, maybe. In there for all 1! care." ~ He sprang at her, seized her arm. "What's that? She's in there? A girl in there?" ' "Maybe. Leave go of my arm, you great black-faced brute!- Leave go. D'ye hear?" • "You say there's a girl' in there." "Maybe, I said. She waß there—came back again, she did, this afternoon. 1 let her go upstairs. For all I know she'* there yet." She stared open-mouthed after Jim, w-ho dashed from her, through the crowd, into the house. The innkeeper, coming out with a chest precariously poised on his back, was "knocked endways," as he expressed it, by a demon, Jim ran past him down the narrow passage, seeking the stairs. In the kitchen two men wer* saving various articles. Jim stormed at them: "Wher,e are the stairs?-* Where are the stairs, you fools?" "Through that door But you can't go up there—" "There's a girl up there," he shouted. "A girl—" He was already through the door that shut off the narrow staircase. .The top of the house was burning fiercely. The narrow passage, was full of smoke. Jim coughed and ehoked. - A door was before him, he tore it .open.. The room was literally ablaze, a-furnace. He tried tin next and found it rOOfleSs, the Hamep leaping up to the sky. He shouted at. he choked, "Doreen! Doreen!" The next room, where the flames had not got so devastating a hold, showed him a slender form on the ttoot near the bed.' He sprang towards it, lifted it in his arms with a low, pas sionate cry, and turned to fight his way through /the hell' of that narrow passage 'and stair, v "" ■" ...

At first it seemed that it could not be done. He could not protect her from burning. Her dress was alight even now. With frantic hands he beat the flames from her body. He carried vis burden to the window and looked out at the frightened, straining faces of the crowd below. The thatch had hung low over the tiny casement. The window was wrapped in flames. He drew back. He tore a blanket from the bed. soaked it as best he could in the water from the jug on the washstand. sank to his knees, and carrying, dragging the unconscious girl, shielding her by his own body, he made his way under the smoke and flames along the passage to the stairs. Deadlier than the trap of a. passage, the stairs almost conquered his unconquerable, intrepid spirit. He crawled down, feet first, holding the girl against his breast, pressing the sodden smoked blanket over her face. He could not see anything of her for the blanket that swathed her and hid her from him. He could not swear that she was alive or dead. Tie could hardlv swear that she was Doreen. His swift glance at her, as he lifted her from her place by the bea, had shown him a wan, unconscious, smoke-marked face, and he had gathered the girl into his arms, hiding her from the inferno. Now he came to the door at the foot of the stairs. A stout oaken door, shutting off the flames and~ smoke from the passage below. Pie touched the panels with his foot, drummed on the door. Under his pressure it opened and he slid down into the passage. Flame and smoke accompanied him, drawn by the draught. Dizzily he rose to his feet and stasrcrered out through the passage to the crowd. He heard someone shout: "Good Heavens! There's Lacy!" Lorrl Seotley's voice. Ho heard Tom literally bellowing: "Jim! Jim!"' He thrust his burden into Mallory's arms. "Doreen." he snid. "Look to her." and **o collapsed on the very doorstep of the doomed house.