THE WRONG SIDE OF THE SHIELD.

Pukekohe & Waiuku Times, Volume 5, Issue 150, 25 February 1916, Page 1 (Supplement)

THE WRONG SIDE OF THE SHIELD.

By RALPH CORBIXO,

Author of "The Man in Possession," "The Confession," "The Weak Spot in Her Armo,ur," etc., etc. (From the "Glasgow Weekly Herald.")

COMPLETE SHORT STORY.

In the smoke-room:ithe talk b.egan to play about the name oi. Muriel Spar, and Gregson's attention, which had been wandering, becana.o suddenly focussed. A fighting look came into h's eyes. He had an insane desire to call out to these.motherhmen that since Muriel was herself, her glorious setf, it was absurd to drag mere circumstances in as though it'mattered. Gregson suddenly encountered Stevenson's eyes, and he had a quick sense of certainty that Stevenson shared his impulse to call out that.it was absurd to speak of the-tricks circumstance had played Muriel; since she remained her most fascinating solfcJ - He saw Ste\ enson's lip curl at each word of half-con-temptuous pity. One of the--anen Jeant against the mantelpiece and spoke of Muriel between puffs his cigar.

"There wasn't any attempt to hush th e family history up. Never knew a case where details were co absolutely naked before the public eye, and, of course, there aren't two p.eop'e in this part of the country who don't know that Muriel'Svittthec and brother are serving time . for misappropriation of funds. Being, here as Mrs. Gerard s friend and companion puts a kind of gloss on it, I ..-suppose; she's here so she must be alright,- people will sayBut as to her family history Oh Lord!" Another man spoke in the same key with variations.

" Phicky girl she is too. Stood right up and faced the world. Didn t whine over the back-handecs society gave her. Plucky of Mrs. Gerard having her here." "Rather." The word was chorused from half a dozen throats. A man with weak eyes and-a thin Voice sitting next to Gregson 'added that he supposed Miss Spar had angled for her position here with the family 'cuteness. Gregson sprang to his feet. "Thats going too far," he said. He wished he could drive his fist into his neighbour's smiling face. "Mi'ls was having a mean little revenge then for Miss Spar s snubs," Stevenson sa'-d. The room greeted this with a laugh that cleared the air and left the sinning youth abashed. "And it's not in th.e best of taste to discuss Miss Spar's affairs in this house," Stevenson suggested. "Moreover, 1 hear George coming, '* someone said; and the talk became general as their host entered the room. Gregson said good-night soon, and went out into the hall. Presently he opened a 6ide door and stepped out into the garden. The night was fragrant. There was no wind; and yet a sense of movement in the air as if the* wonder of the night and of the moon stirred the garden into sighing breaths of happiness. Gregson followed a path that led the way to a small pond at the far end of the garden. His feet trod on fallen twig?, snapping them, disturbing the silence. Nature joined him in the breaking of tiie stillness; she whispered to a sedge warbler down by the river and ho sent his pert chatter into the night; she set an owl to hooting from a distant tree branch. These cries broke and yet accentuated the night's stillness;' they were sharp points of contrast used for emphasis. Gregson came to the path's end and the pond lay at his feet. There wer.e stone seats round the little sheet of water, and on one of these the moon showed him Muriel Spar sitting. Her head lifted sharply from a drooping posture as he came into the open. Hc thought he saw resentment of Ins intrusion in her attitude and spoko quickly. " I had no not,on you were here, lne night drew me out with its witchery." •• It drew me too." If there had been resentment it disappeared with his words. He saw her face in the moonlight and it was unruffled. , Ho waited for her to speak again. And in a subtle way he felt that this her; it showed him anxious to match his mood witn hers and waiting for the key to it. •• I wonder if you can understand the rest it is to be here - when one has lieen storm-tossed." She seemed in this sentence deliberately to move aside a screen and show herself as sh.e was a tragic figure. . " I think I can.'' Gregson looked down at her, noting tho delicacy oi her features, and her pallor matching the iH'oon "I am glad to think of this as y ""Here"'? can forget the little thing* .I.M life liard'-thc ct women's tongues, for instance. • wish I could silence every tongue that fives vou pain." In spite of himvlf he flamed into anger for -v moment, not matching wth his voice the cam liilif the district 1 »-»t h cllP tit MINI. "h<- notii-«i that l.or li.itl.ls lii-l'i-d ««• SVr ..., n n'v on my fr'endship. my understanding.' He dwelt on the last wo, d, nd he caught at the empMas-s. ""M-ldmlinJins -thoro-s no W» like it."

She rose from her scat and l.epnn to move slowlv along: the path. 1 llor ,00 „«1 no need for further words an 1 h"r'«" siw'wl't .in tlio tiroad sliallnw , • ~n r l ho thonirlit the frankness of I,pr spee h to-ninht showed her dispos--7 to re-o.'nke liis championship. Mingled with this hope of Ins was an

indeterminate, shadowy sense of fear. It had been born in him when he saw tli.e restlessness of her hands in sharp contrast to the calm of her voice. In the quiet of his room Gregson took a book and began to read, feeling sleep impossible. The hot flush of his anger against the fool Mills was still on him. "I suppose Miss Spar angled for her position here with the family 'cuteness." It was an outrage. He knew the history of Mrs. Gerard's friendship with Muriel, and knew it for pure gold. Muriel was a delightful woman ; and yet the world was saying, " Plucky of Mrs. Gerard having her there." The situation was intolerable. He tried to awaken interest in his book, and succeeded for a time. He had lost count of hours when the chiming of the clock on the mantelpiece brought him suddenly to his fe.et. It was half-past four, and the household must surely be asleep. Yet lie heard a fajnt sound of moving on the landing

to its ve'vet setting. In all his movements he was furtive, stealthy, as jf lie was possessed of a dark secret. He felt guilty vicariously. She would come back and hunt for this tiling he held; his nerves thrilled to the certainty of'this . She would miss it, and she would come hack because it was a tell-tale, a trail that must be covered. He stepped back into his room, pushing the door to. but not closing it. It was hateful to spy on this woman he loved, but she needed his help ; he must pu'l her back from the edge of a precipice he dare not contemplate. He heard the faint Bound for which he waited and peered out into the landing. The moonlight showed him Muriel on hands and knees, her fingers grouping, feeding for the lost ring. Gregson stepped from his room and stood facing her. He he'd out his hand showing her the thing she sought. He had a sudden unreasoning dread of hearing her voice in this first moment of revelation. He rushed into a whispered sentence. ''l want you to come down into the library. We can't talk here.'' Her answer left him chill. "Is it necessary to talk?" she questioned. "You must know that it is." He threw vehemence into h's whisper. She hesitated, then gave an assenting gestureof her hands. He helped her to her feet and they went side by side, cautiously, like a couple of conspirators. He put out his h.ind to steady her as they came to the stairway, but she shrank away from him. Sympathy swept him like an incoming tide. She had gone down under the heavy weight of circumstance. But he would help her. Already he knew what he must say to her, in what manner he must show himself her knight.

avoiding his touch. "'Do not come near me," she said. "T am branded. I did not know how deeply til! to-night." He poured a volley of words about her ears, expostulating, soothing. And in the midst of Ins declamations she suddenly turned and hurried from the room. He heard the soft rush of her feet on the stairway, and then silence. Gregson was stung into anger by her decisive refusal of his aid. She had not even clothed this refusal in words, but thrust it crudely before his eyes in her gesture of avoidance when ho would have touched her. and the abrupt, dismayed manner of her leaving.

It seemed strange to Gregson that the breakfast table the next morning should be surrounded by people apparently unconscious of abnormal happenings. Muriel was there. Stevenson sat next to her, and she showed herself a'ertlv ready to match her wit against his. Gregson had a sharp stab of annoyance as he watched them. Ho bad an absurd desire to call across the table, "My love .'s greater than hi* since it survived last night." Onoe only Muriel's , n yes met Ins and their expression baffled him. He lacked the key to interpret it. She had put him outside a quickly reared ienier of reserve.

Gregson met and answered a questi;.:: of Mrs. Gerard's, and as he looked at his hostess his thoughts were hurried things. Did she know? Had discovery kept aloof from Muriel as yet? Was Muriel's gay presence at the breakfast table a strategic move on h.er part ? He sickened beneath the heavy blows of his own questions. That he should have to face them in such a connection was in-

outside. It was so faint, so lacking in precision, that lie dismissed it as n trick of his ears. Its repetition took iiini in quick strides to the door of his room. H<> opened it and peered out into the landing. There was no sound now other than the swish of heavy raindrops against the landing window. Scudding clouds made the moon a fitful ally, shrouding as well as revealing. Gregson thought he detected a crouching figure near the landing window, but the uncertain light made him disinclined to trust the message of his eyes. Ho waited, his eyes steady. Presently the clouds dispersed, and the crouching tigure shot into prominence, kneeling tnere unscreened. It was Muriel opar. Gregson drew his breath unevenly. Incoherent thoughts chased each other through his brain; the most poignant memory of her restless hands. He had sensed something of desperation in Iter. His thoughts wero caught and tripped by her abrupt movement. She rose to her full height as though she disdained the thought of fear, of panic. She turned to her right and went quickly towards the door of her room, her back to Gregson. In the brief glance he caught of her as she rose from her crouching position he saw that she held a large box in her arms, and now as she went rapidly along the corridor, his eyes, keenly vigilant, saw a small round object roll softly on the thick piled carpet. It was obvious that she did not notice, since she neither paused nor turned her head. In another moment she had disappeared into her room. He beard the faint sound of th > lock turning in her door. Gregson felt his thoughts clouded, and he J eared revelation, dreading the lifting of the c'ouds. Presently lie drew his breath in between his teeth with the sibilant sound of one in pain. On the floor near him something winked back at the light of the moon, caught tho light and changed it into a medley of scintillating beams. Ho moved a little, stopped, and picked up the glittering thing. He held it as if it would scorch him : so vivid was tins imagery that he almost felt the sting of pain. He was looking at a ring, a costly hoop of diamonds. And lie knew that Muriel Spar no longer possessed any jewels. Her voluntary giving up of anything of value she owned had been one of the tilings Mrs. Gera''d had quoted to her friends as andlustration of Muriel's absolute integrity. Gregson went cautiously along the landing, bunting for the case from which the ring had fallen. He found it presently, the clasp jerked open bv the fall. He pushed the ring back m-

Gregson led the way to the library. He switched on the light as they went into the room and was conscious that ho nerved himself before he looked at Muriel's face. She was the first t-o speart. you feel something of a pariah, and "Yes. I want to speak m the light of a thing I said in the garden a few hours ago. 1 to'd you that you had my understanding. I—you have that now." Ho had drawn a chair forward, but she ignored it, standing by one of tin email tables, her left hand resting on it. In the otner hand she still held the ring case. As sh 0 looked at Gregson her thoughts seemed to poise uncertainly, as if she had missed the keynote of his last sentence and waited for its repetition. "1 understand because I realise all you have suttered, Gregson said. " 1 measure to-night by that suffering. People have been cruel enough to make you tee 11 something of a pariah, and so you '' He tripped over the nieso of liis thoughts, unabio to deiine tliem in words. She clenched the hand that rested on the table —her only movement. Gregson had given her his key-note and her face changed as she caught it. He saw the change and misread it. " God knows 1 don't judge you," he said. " I.jfe hasn't dealt fairly by you. But 1 want you to let me try to make circumstances less your enemy, more your friend. Give me the right to stand by you, shield you. I love you. I think you must have known that for a long time." She spoke irrelevantly, ignoring the assertion of Gregson s love. "You said that 1 had your friendship, your understanding " "You have both." he interposed. "Especially the last?" "Yes. I think very especially tho last, since I understand—even tonight." Involuntarily bis eyes went to the ring case jn her hand. Her eyes followed bis. She slowly turned th," case over, staring at it. "You must put that back, and the—the other things.'' he stammered hoarsely. "You will Irani to think of to-night as a bad dream when \\e aie together and I In .v shown you what love means in your o e. "Yes, I shall learn to think of tonight as a bad drenin, a thing to torK et. But such memories are woven into one's thoughts." He came towards her impetuously. He would have caught her hands in ii : s but she stepped quickly back,

' tollerable. Perhaps—he tingled with reii. f at this thought—she had acted on his words, had returned the things. How closely be would guard her secret! He looked at her again as if to assure her of her safety; but he saw her eyes downcast as she listened to Stevenson's tire of small talk. After breakfast Gregson tried to speak to Muriel in the hall. He wanted to hear what her plans for the day were, since he felt it imperative that he should see and talk to her again. But Muriel was not in the hall. His eyes, searching each corner, encountered his hostess, and she came to Gregsoil's side, interpreting his thoughts. "You are looking for Muriel?" "Yes. I wondered if she would care for a walk into Thropston. It's a glorious morning for walking." " Glorious. But Muriel is away for the day. She has gone up to town to do some shopping. She motored to the ! station directly after breakfast. ' Gregson stepped back into the region of doubt that amounted almost to panic. To town . . .shopping . . her abrupt journey after last night. He was grateful to the social training that enabled him to meet Mrs. Gerard's eves unflinchingly and w.tli a light " I m glad she lias such a glorious day for her little expedition." "Yes. It will be nice for her." Mrs. Gerard bent her head whilst >she adjusted some lace in the sleeve of her dress. "Murijjl is doing some business for me whilst she is in town. She in taking some valuable old jewels to the bank, to be kept there whilst we are abroad. There have been rumours of burglaries in the district, and we thought it best to leave these things in sate keeping." She lifted her head with a swiit movement, and her eyes pierced Gregson's. He felt that she stripped a cover from his thoughts and looked at them. She turned to a seat. "Shall we sit here for a few minutes? Muriel and I had a rather curious experience last night. It will amuse you to bear it." Gregson took the scat indicated. His thoughts now refused to be tabulated: they were incoherent, yet with a pres--1 ag" of fear. "Muriel and 1 decided some days ago that these old jewels that belonged to my mother would be safest in the bank during our absence. '1 lie talk of petty burglaries in the district made me uneasy. Last night I had an absurd dream that someone had broken into the bureau in my sitting-room upstairs, and found the secret drawer where my mother's jewels had been kept. It was a vivid nightmare. When I woke the spell of the dream was on me so strong-

ly that 1 slipped out of bed and went to Muriel's room, woke her up, and asked her to come with me and see if all was well." Gregson shifted rather noisily in his char, a jerking involuntary movement. Mrs. Gerard laughed softly at the recollection of her necd'ess panic. "Of course, everything was safe. It was too bad to have disturbed Muriel. But as we were up we decided to carry the jewels into Muriels' room for her to take up to town this morning. You see what an absurd story it is! The ending is almost grotesque." "Muriel carried the box to her room, go : ng softly on tiptoe. I was still in my little sitting-room when I heard the sound of an opening door. I peeped through the nick of the sitting-room doorway, and I saw ono of my guests step out on to the landing. Muriel heard the sound too, and crouched against the wall to hide herself. Perhaps alio thought my dream burglar had arrived." For the second time during her recital Mrs. Gerard looked at Gregson. And he felt that her look pierced, went to the core of his thoughts. The tone of her voice altered when next she spoke. "You know Muriel's history. You know how she has grown, a lily of purity, from a tainted soil. The pity of it is that anyone could have been so lacking in understanding as to judge her by the memory of her father's sin rather than b ytlie memory of her unblemished life. Yet there was a man who did that." "Such a man deserves...what lie has got," Gregson said. "You mean " "That he can never forgive himself for bong such a contemptible hound." She struck the personal note. " I thought at first I should find it hard to

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forgive you. And il I fe!t that, what must Muriel have felt !' Gregson bad a desire to do himself some physical hurt. He turned vehemently to Mrs. Gerard. " What can 1 do ?" " Do!'" She regarded him with raised evebrows.

"I must see her. I can't leave the ragged edges of last night He broke off. Words were inadequate. His sudden dumbness moved Mrs. Gerard more than his speech. "1 don't think Muriel will want to see you," sho slabbed him truthfully. She turned a little impulsively towards

hiin. "For niy part, it has been a desire of mine to see you and Muriel together. But you have made a grave mistake. As Morel's friend. 1 ought to ask von to cut short your visit.

■ liut you will not!' ••Xo." she said deliberately. "I wii not—-till to-morrow."

Humour in a twisted form came to Greg-oil, and he laughed at the memory of his fatuous speech about his understanding of Muriel. He had acted the clown for her /.nterta nmwit. \\ hen time had wiped from Ivm- mind the tragedv of it sue would recall it os an hour of wh'msical lesting. Threaded through all his tho.ojhis was the knowledge that Stevenson, his rial, had not shown himself a fool. Miv. Gerard's ey's spelt \\ npatliy when he met them during the day. He rccogni ed that her sympathy was born

of her belief that he had lost Muriel. Alter dinner she said to him : "Muriel has returned. She is in my sitting-room just now. T think you should have a chance oi apologising before you leave.'" Her last words stung. They showed lior sense of the irretrievable. Facing | Muriel, Gregson had i momentary ense of eloquence. Some fin.e'y-teiupered sentences of .apology came fluently from his lips. She received and dismissed tneni with a quick "1 accept your apology. There is nothing more to say." "There's everything to say." fib/> stood facing him, and she answered with a vehemence that matched his own. "You are right. There i- no end to the tilings I could say to you if I flung nwav restraint. Your travesty of the word understanding, for instanc.e —I could grow eloquent on that theme." Ho was silent for a moment, and she swept into his silence with low vibrant sentences. "If, swing me in an equivocal position, you had still trusted me. 1 flunk 1 should have been the happiest woman living. I should have felt detached from the past. But you pushed me back into it—you pushed me liack." Gregson's throat tightened. The poignant notes of her voice on the last four words moved him to pain. He loved her and he had wounded her. He stood before her, his very silence eloquent of his regret. And something reached her from hi, silence that had not reached her from Ins speech —the knowledge of his own hurt, the intolerable pain of having wounded when he wished to heal. She said impulsively, "I am so sorry —so sorry for your pain.

She -(.Tilled amazed at her own impetuosity and drew bark, looking at him with startled eyes. Her sympathy had run into a strange channel, was diverting itself into the enemy's camp. ' I didn't mean to speak to you like tliat." She laughed a little ruefully. "You haven't deserves'! it.'' "So," he admitted "I haven't."

Site spoke slowly, i effectively. "J want to he fair. Thinking of me as you did, you acted nolily." She flushed darkly. "But that you could think of me so."

Again lie could offer only silence in response. He was dumbly eloquent. " I knew the world regarded mo dubiously. I didn't think you would. I thought of you ns a rock in a desert place.'' "Don't!" he ...I'd sharply. ''l can't bear it."

The naked note of suffering in bis voice thrilled her. It was like a flame heating about minor things—pride, resentment leaving them shrivelled, mere dust and ashes. It showed the flame-proof thing —her love for Gregson.

Something in her face, the way she looked at him, prompted him to say—"Will you give me another chance? Won't the years help to undo the folly of an hour?"

The change in her was like the sudden lulling of a storm. Site could think only of the thing that had emerged from fire unscorched, and nhe laughed at the dumb amazement of Gregson s eves. In the ('hanged current of her mood he felt himself caught and swept into still waters. "Some clay in the future you will let nip speak of my love for you?' he ventured.

She said lightly should sneak of it now 1 will listen.

She told hrrsi'lf that hive would lift them Ixith to tlu» same level, she ignoring the st.iin on her name. They would dwell together on an exalted plane ol forsetfulnesx, and happiness would he their perpetual uuest.