The Shadow of a Dream

Sun (Auckland), Volume I, Issue 275, 10 February 1928, Page 5

The Shadow of a Dream

Byi

Charles Procter.

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CHAPTER XXVII. —TO-MORROW “Please listen to me, Mrs. Aitken,” she pleaded. “I am not mad, and my aunt has lied to tyou and to the doctor. I am engaged to be married to a gentleman named Jervis O’Neill, but my aunt means to force me to marry my cousin, Geoffrey Valentine. I admit that I did promise to marry him, but I don’t want to keep my promise now. I hate Geoffrey, and' 1 want to be free

again. I assure you I am telling you the truth, and I can prove it to you if 'only you will allow me. Let me write to Mr. O’Neill and explain matters.” “Oh, you can write to anybody you like,” said Mrs. Aitken, who was quite firmly convinced that Monica was mad, and that the best thing to do was to humour her. “Write to Mr. O’Neill if you like, and give me the letter.” So Monica wrote to Jervis explaining all that had happened and begging him to come to her aid at once. She handed the letter to Mrs. Aitken. who promised to post it, but instead of doing so she took it to Lady Valentine, who opened it, murmuring something about delusions, and promptly cast it in the fire after reading it. “Tell her I have burnt the letter,” she said. “We must try to bring her to her senses. If only we can dispel the illusion that she is engaged to this imaginary American she may recover.” Mrs. Aitken nodded grimly and went back to announce to Monica that her letter had been destroyed, and to try to convince her that she had been talking nonsense. All of which had the effect —as Lady Valentine had foreseen —of driving the girl frantic. She made a desperate effort to escape next morning, but was recaptured by the vigilant Aitken, brought back and locked up in her room again, after being punished as if she were a disobedient and mutinous child. “A few days more of this and she

will be really mad,” soliloquised her aunt, after visiting her and reproving her in a manner that drove Monica almost beside herself. “Then she will probably make away with herself, or meet with an unfortunate accident. Jervis O’Neill can’t possibly find us here, and he won’t be able to prove anything afterwards.” She had, as her son had done a few months previously, forgotten Jervis’s uncanny knack of turning up at the right moment. Jervis, at that as ■ a matter of fact, was devoting all his energies to discovering the whereabouts of Monica and Lady Valentine. He had abandoned all hope of Scotland Yard helping him in the matter, and decided that he must himself undertake the role of detective. He had no illusions as to how detectives work, and did not consider himself to be a Sherlock Holmes. H 6 merely brought common-sense to bear on the subject, and decided that if anyone knew where Lady Valentine was it was her ladyship’s servant, who had been left in charge of the flat. On several occasions he had tipped the woman generously, but without result, for she persisted in asserting that she knew nothing whatever about the whereabouts of her mistress. Jervis, however, kept watch on her, and saw her run out and post a number of letters which he concluded were for Lady Valentine, which had been readdressed, and he lost no time in challenging the servant again. “See here, I want Lady Valentine’s address, and I mean to have it,” he said doggedly. “It isn’t any use your saying you don’t know it, for I’ve seen you posting letters to her, and I know you do know where she is.” “I only know that her ladyship is travelling,” answered the maid firmly. She was exceedingly loyal, and had concluded that Jervis was a debt collector, or a man with a writ. “I’ll give you five pounds if you tell me where she is,” persisted Jervis. “Ten pounds,” he added, as the woman made no sign. Still no answer or movement. “Twenty pounds.” The servant’s eyes lit up, and she bent forward a trifle. “Do you mean that—honest?” she asked. “Do you mean you’ll give me twenty pounds now, just to give you the address?” For answer Jervis produced a wal-

let counted out twenty pounds in notes, and thrust the money into the woman's hands.

“Write the address down,” he commanded. “And heaven help you if you play any trick on me!” Five minutes later he was rushing back to his chambers, arid by midnight he was on his way to Scotland. It was in the early forenoon that Jervis, jaded and travel-worn after an all-night journey, reached the Highland village in which Lady Valentine had hidden herself and Monica. His first impulse was to discover the whereabouts of the house, rush there at once, and demand to see Monica — but he seldom acted on first impulses, although he was naturally impetuous. He had practised restraint and discovered that it was always worth while to be sure of the ground before taking action.

Therefore, instead of rushing to Lady Valentine’s cottage, he went to the one hotel in the place, washed and changed, enjoyed a plain but plentiful luncheon, and began to ask questions, and found the landlady was communicative.

“Oh, yes, to be sure. Lady Valentine is stopping here,” she said. “Maybe you’re a friend of her ladyship. She’s a native of the place, you know. She was a Miss Moncrief before she was

married, and the Moncriefs have lived here for hundreds of years. You’ll know her ladyship well, sir?”

“No, I don’t know her ladyship very well, although I know a good deal about her,” answered Jervis, slowly, after considering the question. “I know her niece very well, though. She’s stopping here, too?” “Oh, yes, and that’s a very sad case!” said the landlady, shaking her head. “I haven’t seen the poor young lady myself, but they say she’s very good-look-ing. Maybe you’re a doctor, sir?” Jervis started slightly as a sudden fear gripped his heart. “What’s wrong with Miss Moncrief?” he asked in level tones. “What do you think is wrong with her?“ “Oh, I don’t know, sir. I don’t know anything except what I’ve been told, but they say the poor young lady is quite mad. She has to be kept locked up most of the time, and Lady Valentine had to engage a keeper to watch her day and night.” She paused, shrinking back and making a deprecating gesture as Jervis sprang to his feet, his brows drawn together, his eyes flashing angrily and his rugged face set and stern. “I —I’m sorry if I’ve said anything to offend you,” she stammered. “The guid man always says I talk overmuch. I

didn’t mean any offence, and you saying you knew Miss Moncrief ” “See here!” interposed Jervis in dangerously quiet tones; “you’ve been misinformed. Miss Moncrief isn’t mad. and she’s engaged to be married to me Lady Valentine kidnapped her, and I’m going to set her free and take her awawith me. I’m going to bring her back here within an hour, and take her back to London with me by the night train, if she’s well enough. Meanwhile, you can get a room ready for the lady.” “But—but—■—•” “Do as I tell you!” snapped Jervi-. “Now show me where Lady Valentine’s house is.” The landlady, flustered and bewildered, but impressed, wrung her hand», gasped and hastened out with her fearsome, masterful guest to the door to direct him to Lady Valentine’s cottage. “Mad! By heaven I’ll show the old fiend what it means to be mad!” growled Jervis between his teeth, as he strode along in the direction of the cottage. “She’s locked Monica up, an.l given out that she’s mad. She may be torturing the poor girl—my Monica!” The thought roused him to fury, and he began to run, but controlled himself almost immediately, remembering that he must keep cool at all costs, and that he had to deal with a dangerous and . desperate woman.