flotsam

Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 104, 23 July 1927, Page 16

flotsam

By

Cbralie Stanton ana Heath Hosken, .

To have Flotsam, i.e. t goods floating on the water; Jetsam, i.e., goods I cast out of a ship during a storm, and Wilsam. i.e., goods driven ashore when ships are wrecked. These wrecks were called by the vulgar. Goods of God's mercy. (Ancient Charter of Dover.) SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS CHAPTER I.—John Bolton kneels on the shingle beside the animate form of a lad who has just been rescued from drowning. The sailor who has brought the boy from the shipwreck can give no information about him. Eater, inquiries proving futile, John Bolton carries the lad to his motor, covers him with rugs, and drives off. The boy refuses the stimulating drink that John offers and wants to go. This request is refused. Questioned the lad states that he is Jack King. He and his father were bound for South America. Complains of feeling sick and collapses. Arrived at Saye Castle, John Bolton’s home, Mrs. Manton, the housekeeper, undertakes to get the boy to bed, but he fights, kicks, bites, struggles, and makes off. John Bolton catches him and he capitulates by fainting. He is got to bed and Dr. Goring is sent for. About six in the evening Mrs. Manton seeks her master and informs him that Jack King is a girl,—a young woman about eighteen. Dr. Goring says the patient must be kept perfectly quiet for a few days. John Bolton communicates with the steamship offices in London. Scotland Yard tells a sordid story. The girl's father is really Michael Dennis Croft, company promoter, whose gigantic failure has engulfed the savings of millions of hard workers. His daughter, Jacqueline, is penniless. CHAPTERS I (Continued) and 11. John Bolton writes to his fiancee. Lady Maud Genge, tells the whole story of Jacqueline, and asks her to help him. He has his first interview with Jacqueline. She reveals herself as a striking-looking girl, full of character. She has taken the news of her father’s death quietly. Lady Maud Genge, in the Swiss mountains, reads in the paper of the death of Dennis Croft. She talks it over with her maid, Clarice. Later she muses over her past life, her runaway marriage, her divorce, her father’s accession to the peerage. A letter comes to her from John Bolton, giving her the history of the arrival of Jacqueline, and expressing a wish for her presence and advice. Lady Maud gives her maid orders to pack. She is returning to England. She spends the nighi at Folkestone after crossing the Channel, and in the morning hires a car and motors to Saye Castle. John Bolton is not there to meet her, but Parker, the butler, and Mrs. Manton, welcome her The housekeeper gives her the latest news of the new protegee, and says how fend the master is of her.

CHAPTERS 111 and IV.—Lady Maud wanders round the gardens and comes upon Jacqueline. She gets into conversation and tries to win the girl, apparently succeeding. Maud discovers that Jacqueline is well educated. John Bolton arrives about five o’clock. He is pleased that the two women are friends Lady Maud goes back to her hotel, where John dines with her that evening. When they are taking coffee the subject of Jacqueline is introduced. His fiancee refuses to be dragged into mothering her. When John asks her to do this she says, ”Noi Ol |,, life!” She leaves the ultimatum with him that he loses her if he keeps Jacqueline. CHAPTER XI. (Continued). “Clarice! What are you saying? Why, Mr. Bolton is the best man in ail the wide world! I won’t hear you say a word against him—you or anyone else. Oh, how dare you! And what ao you mean about his making love to a .mother and daughter—” “Oh, my dear, wee one, did I say that? I must be mad?” “No, you weren’t mad. And I’m going to know what you mean.” Clarice, habitually so circumspect and discreet, had gone all to pieces. She was verging on hysteria. “Of course, he isn t really to blame,” she maundered on. “Of course, he isn’t. He doesn’t know. How should he know poor gentleman! He never will know unless my lady tells him. And she isn’t likely to do that.” The truth had come to Jacqueline before the sudden outburst of Clarice confirmed the appalling revelation. “It’s like this, my dear, and it’s only right that you should know it. Why not? I should be inhuman if I did not let you know now before it is too late and more devilish mischief is clone. My lady is your mother, Miss Jacqueline. I was with her when you were born, a dear, little bundle of sunshine you were, too—” Jacqueline had become suddenly very calm. Something- seemed to have snapped in her brain. She had become a machine, capable of registering words and emitting words, but incapable of emotion. ‘‘P® J’ ou mean that Lady Maud knows that I am her daughter?” .. ** is from her tha * I heard i And then Clarice poured forth the whole story of the catastrophe that sent Mrs. Michael Dennis Croft away from her husband, leaving the helpless little Jacqueline behind, of the strange Circumstances in which Mrs. Croft lost her identity in her old name of Maud Genge. Clarice was wound up. Having started, nothing could stop her. Jacquehne listened, petrified, her heart throbbing with rage and hatred against this woman who had borne her, this woman who had betrayed her father deserted her baby child. She saw it all, it was so patently clear. It explained Martin Stone — “Clarice,” she said, “you will oblige me by forgetting this conversation. It must never be known that you have told me these things. You ought never *° done so. It was very wrong and disloyal of you. What on earth do you think Lady Maud would think of you if she knew? She trusts you implicitly. No, Clarice, you ought not to have told me.” “But I simply had to, Miss Jacqueline. How could I help myself, seeing and knowing what is going on right under my nose?” “I wonder why you did it?” “Why? Because “Why? WWhy, because of you Miss Jacqueline.” “Not because of Lady Maud 9” “No. Her ladyship is able to look after herself, if it comes to that; but you,, wee mite, it wasn’t fair to keep you in ignorance.’ ’ “Oh, if only my father were alive!” crier Jacqueline. “I feel so desolate and so alone.” For all that, a very remarkable change had come over Jacqueline. She straightened her back, she got herself and her erratic nerves well in hand. She appeared to have grown years older, and to have cultivated a poise a reserve, a personality. “Good-bye, Clarice,” she said with unaccustomed dignity. “I really must go and have some breakfast. They’ll be wondering what has become of me. Now don’t forget—what you have told me is a secret between us.” “I shall tell my lady that I have told you, Miss Jacqueline.” “If you do I’ll kill you, Clarice,” she said fiercely, with the return of the old, undisciplined spirit of the boy, Jack King. She looked as if she were fully capable of carrying out her murderous threat. Then she strode into the house with her long, boyish stride, her head held high, and the gleam of battle in her eyes. Her pale cheek 3 were slightly flushed, and there was a subtle lurking smile, just a little cynical, playing round her lips. "You look jolly fit this morning,” exclaimed Maud, as she swung into the breakfast room.

Aathorg of " The Real Mrt. Dare.” “ The Man She Never Married.” " Sword and Pf.oagh6rc., £rc.

f “Feel as fit as a fiddle,” she replied. "But what have you been doing? We thought you were lost.” “Been having no end of adventures,” she laughed. "Extraordinary what a lot of things can happen between your bath and breakfast. I’ve made .all sorts of adventures and discoveries. And now I’m ready for whatever offers.” "Tea or coffee?” inquired Bolton. “Both,”’ she said. “And I’ll take a grilled kidney with my fried sole. I feel just like that. Heigh-ho.” This was little Miss Jack in quite a new mood. If she had suddenly stood on her head she could not have created a bigger sensation. It was remembered and its significance debated in the light of subsequent events. That morning Miss Jack disappeared. That is the only way to put it. She simply disappeared. No one saw her go. She left no traces of her departure or word to anyone as to her destination. She just vanished into plain air. If her advent had been unusual, the little sodden shipwrecked lad. washed up on Shingleness .'Ut of the Channel fog, her departure was no less remarkable and dramatic. It was not until after luncheon that any suspicions were aroused, and then, knowing the eccentric and erratic nature of the incomprehensible Miss Jack, no one bothered much ; bout it. After breakfast she went to her rooms, stating that she was not going out till after lunch, as she had a lot of things to attend to, and was determined to finish “If Age But Knew,” the new and much-talked-of novel by Campling Cookson. This decision was sufficiently surprising to Maud, who had never known the girl to stay indoors if she could possibly be in the air. And this was an exceptionally brilliant autumn day. It is conceivable that both Martin Stone and John Bolton in their widely different ways understood, but neither made any comment. Bolton had his morning’s programme irrevocably planned. Neck or nothing, he had to have a super-painful interview with Maud, and the prospect was most repugnant to him. He must make a clean breast of it, and throw himself on her mercy. It was a horrid duty, but it had to be done. Stone also knew that a personal talk with Lady Maud was expected of him, and he looked forward to it with but little less distaste than did Bolton. But Maud suddenly decided to motor to Smallrock on the Marsh and play a round of golf with Teddy Baldry. She would be back for lunch. They might only do nine holes, but she felt that she must have some sort of physical exercise. Bolton was secretly relieved. His feelings may be likened to those of the small boy taken to the dentist, to find that that gentleman had been unexpectedly called away. There is no relief of mind to certain natures like the postponement of the inevitable. Which, of course, makes life supportable. Stone was relieved, also. He put the unpleasant experience from his mind. After all, why should he worry about it? He had proposed to a girl who had taken his fancy, and she had turned him down. That was all there was to it. Selah! He would have another shot if and when the opportunity occurred. Come to think of it. it wasn't altogether hopeless. He changed into flannels, and played half a dozen hard singles tiwhyougn half a dozen hard singles with young Mrs. Laughterson, who only just beat him. And the others amused themselves •after their fashion. Even one at Saye did just as he liked. There was everything to do or nothing to do. and no one suggested one or the other. They all foregathered at one o’clock or a little afterwards for half-past one luncheon, which, like everything else about these unconventional week-end parties of Bolton’s, was a go-as-you-please take-it-or-leave-it sort of meal. And under ordinary circumstances, had Jacqueline failed to make an appearance, in all probability no one would have taken any notice. But something Clarice had said to her just before lunch caused Maud to remark on the girl’s absence, and, while they were all sitting over their coffee, to go to Jacqueline’s room—she had a sitting room and a bedroom and bathroom all ingennously arranged in one of the old square towers dating from the reign of Stephen. The rooms were empty. There was no apparent sign of anyone having occupied them since the chambermaids had put them in order for the day. She was puzzled and a little alarmed. She rang for Clarice, who appeared with incredible celerity. “Where’s Miss Jack?” demanded Maud. “I don’t know, my lady. I—that is what I wanted to speak you about. I’m afraid something terrible has happened. I’ve been looking for Miss Jacccccccufo.l fiy 1 queline alii the morning. Oh, my lady, I’m so frightened. I’m sure it’s something very terrible.” “Stuff and nonsense,” exrlaimed Maud. “What on earth is the matter with you, woman? You are tremb-

!ing, shivering, as with ague this wont do. What do 4,’S • Oh. my lady. I m sorry, but,f to tell her. Something that i 1 ! not rontrol simply made me T , rOBJ, I ! your ladyship would gi ve 11 minutes I will explain evervthi. i -You told her what? ReaUvctL you are most agfravating." ! ‘‘l told her who you were, wha -Good God!” gasped Maud, and down into a chair, white-fares trembling. ' Have you s „„, staring mad ?” So Clarice had done the unfors-n-K, thing, the thing her mistress ways feared she would do Maud J; furious. She looked for all the wk* 5 £!arice he C ° Uld Stra " Sle the ‘■l insist on your telling me eve—thing. ' she said, "everything, wim'!’ reservation. ac And Clarice told her everyth!— one most important reservatiemth* thing that would have • xplained k* otherwise incomprehensible action °' r in a way justified her seeming EIS? of faith. Clarice did not tell her kif' that she had witnessed Miss Jaw. line locked in the arms of Mr Rr?. o '' That, after all. was Miss JacqueW 1 - secret. u ' : ' » Maud was beside herself with ft—. •'Clarice,” she said, "this ends . V er? thing between us. I can dispense vt.,' i your services from this moment t, lean pack up and go this afternoon.” | will settle up with you here and i»» I owe you a great deal, I m afmw Doubtless you have kept aecoim* Please let me have full details as so—as possible.” “Oh, my dear,” cried Clarice, “yon can’t mean what you are saving. Afiei all these long years. You can’t do with out me. You can’t turn me off this. My lady, I did it for the best I did it for your happiness, really. Can) you understand. There was that Mr Stone worrying the life- out of her—- “ Please keep Mr. Stone’s name out o' this conversation. I wish to have nothing more to say to you. You have behaved abominably. You have betrayed my confidence. I want to have nothing more to do with you. I shall pay you a year’s wages and I shal’! give you excellent references, though after what has happened, I really don’t know why I should do so. Oh, ho* hateful you are, how atrociously false - Go— go away, you deceitful creature Never let me see your face again.’’ “Oh, my dear lady —and after all these y ars. You don’t mean what you are saying. I’m taking no notice or anything. You are not yourself - Nothing shall take me away from you You wouldn’t know what to do if i wasn’t here with you. You know that Wild horses shan’t drag me from you. my lady.” “What do I owe you?” “I’m sure I don’t know, my lady. I’ve never kept any account. I’ve never felt that you owe me anything, but its I that owe you everything. You see, I always feel as if I was in a way responsible for you. Conie, my dearie, don’t be so angry with your poor old Clarice, who is always trying to dc everything for the best. Don’t you see that the most important thing to attend to is Miss Jacqueline." “Well, what about Miss Jacqueline?'' asked Maud. “Oh, I’m that worried, my lady, I can’t tell you. I can’t find her anywhere. I’ve been looking for her an the morning. I don’t know what on earth to make of it, I really don’t.” “You think she’s run away?" “I don’t know what to think— l’m afraid to think. Oh, the poor wee, frightened mite!” “That girl is a perpetual nuisance," said Maud, in exasperation. “Oh, my lady,” protested Clarice. “And you tier mother!” “Of course, I don’t mean that,” Maud recanted. “Of course not. I really don't think I know what I’m saying." “I’m sure you don’t, my lady." “But surely someone must have seen her.” “No one, my lady.” “But her things—has she taken anything?” “Nothing, my lady. Everthying is just as it should be. Her pyjamas are there, and everything else. Nothing is missing. That’s the terrible part of it don’t you see?” “You mean—” “That she’s done away with herself.” “Oh. surely, you don’t think that?' “So you do care just a little, mv lady? You don’t like to think of that plump bundle of golden sunshine doing a thing like that, do you?" Clarice had her plump arms around her mistress. £“But why should you think that the child thought of anything of the sort’ Why?" “I happen to know,” Clarice replied “that she is devoted to her father. She adores him—worships his memory. Mrs* Manton has told me. She won’t hear a word against him. She swears that he is honest to the core, and that all the charges brought against him are false, or can be explained. She »ys her father is an honest man who has been the victim of knaves.” “I shouldn’t be at all surprised she isn’t right,” said Maud reminii* cently. “Anybody could pool p cently “Anybody could fool poor Deems are easily as he could fool othe** He was always a complete egotist H* could make himself believe anything But what has all this to do with yoin preposterous idea of the child havTOe committed suicide?” “She was utterly miserable, my heartbroken and harassed. She M just everything. And she was so conscious of the shame of it all. fo com pletely broken in spirit. You hAVC talk to Mrs. Manton. She wm you a lot of amazing things.” “I’ve no patience with all this P*' sip.” exclaimed Maud irritably. “And then there’s Parker —the thin* 5 he’s told me. And Dr. Goring (To be Continued.)