The Green Bungalow

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 402, 10 July 1928, Page 5

The Green Bungalow

BY A POWERFUL WRITER.

By

Fred M. White.

Author of "The Crimson BBnd." "The Cardinal Moth,“ " The House on the River,” &c., 6cc.

CHAPTER I.—THE LADY IN LAVENDER. It was luncheon time at the MetroP°Utau Hotel, Brighton, and tile great oming room was comfortably tilled tut guests and casual visitors as Hilon Blythe strolled casually into the ■.°®. w *tl 1 tb e intention of seeking one i “is favourite window seats. He s.aneed casually round as if in search some passing acquaintance before "s seen eye picked out the little lady th la 7- ander seated in an angle facing 6 king’s Road with a companion. ® most accomplished and daring “-sharper and swindler in Europe E a “ sed for a moment as if he had .». a struck by a bullet, but only for va V? c,ion ot a second, and then he hunseif again. ihQ» W^i ter cre Pt up ingratiatingly, for J“i knew Blythe there. His th» Cter mattered nothing to them, ,? p I >rec ' a ted his generous nature rho tae s P' end °nr of his largesse in snn»* at:er tips. And your waiter Hit S t Sentleman instinctively, and ,k .° a "lythe was most emphatically cni,„ So ,ar as hirth and breeding were r.amf rn> Blythe was an assumed hou« ’ course - but from what noble onlv t man real *y came was known ot rhi° a , te ' v ’ and they for the sake soitio Ir , c ‘ ass never told. There were still or them who acknowledged him who’* a ■ occas iouaHy helped him most „ . es were bad - but, for the ami liS 6 ?’ Blythe went his own way and at tlle best hotels at home icdo a , oad ’ for he was one of the Dim meil that everybody likes, desdiaiipi S Pecord - and he never by any caravan brought scandal upon any Pen ,■ Ese^ ui in which he might hap*as ht u e mome nt to be housed. It remits,- same he aimed at, and his *as . 1? 11 tor audaci ty and courage the u-p .?J Word in the dark places of eeedinot ' Por tbe res t, he looked ex:ears £ y u youthful for his forty-five or in ’ithout a grey hair on his head, and thjV arefUlly trained moustache, in London^" 15 n ° better dressed man himself upon the fact that tKaken” , S him, but he had been fell to “ is ve ry marrow as his eye in th P ° n tbe la dy in lavender seated coins!, angle of the window with her Hov H U ? n whom Blythe knew to be tad „ ar , ley ’ a man of familywho Oectort Ul f te * a tely come into an unexfortune. It was Blythe's busi-

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ness to know these things, but any predatory ideas, so far as Harley was concerned, had no place in Blythe’s mind. Behind his eyeglass and that bland superiority of his, he was studying the lady in lavender intently. He saw a slight, fair girl, with grey-green eyes, and a suggestion of birth and breeding on that perfectly cut face of hers, he saw a little mouth, red and kissable enough, but well-moulded and determined, and he could see, in those expressive eyes, the fact that the girl’s companion was more than a passing pleasure to her. “My God,” he murmured to himself. “So that’s what the child has growji into. Fancy three years making all that difference. And yet she is exactly what I pictured she would become. If ” Blythe turned, suddenly conscious of the fact that the waiter was standing by his side. He was the easy and assured man of the world again, with a definite object before him. “Ah, Walters,” he said, in his genial way. “Give me a corner seat, will you? Over there, in the window.” “Very sorry, sir,” the waiter said. “That table is engaged. But I dare say—” Blythe slipped his hand significantly into his waistcoat pocket, and the waiter smiled. There was not a waiter in the Metropolitan who was not ready to do anything that Blythe asked, and a moment or two later he was seated at the little able in the widow close by the lady in lavender and her companion, find in a position to hear every word that passed. “Well, weren’t you astonished to see me?” Harley asked. “And now, what have you been doing all this long time? And what do you mean by running away from Scotland in all that hurry?” The girl laughed happily. “I thought it was you who ran away,” she said. “Well, perhaps I did, my dear Nettie.” Harley said. “But there, it is wonderful what a change three months will bring about. When we MOTHERS’ PRIDE Xothing pleases a mother more than to see her children eating heartily. Especially so. when it is good, plain, nourishing: food like sandwiches made with GILLARD'S PASTES. Every variety guaranteed pure. All Stores.—4

were staying together at Markham's place, you and I and Prest, because the others didn’t count, I was a poor man with nothing hut my pay in the Guards to live upon. But it’s all different now, as I explained to you. Oh, I wasn’t blind, Nettie, I knew that Walter Prest was just as much In love with you as I was, and I knew how unhappy you were with that old aunt of yours. Oh, Lady Ra.chel is a fair terror. And, because I knew that you liked Prest, and that he was a rich man, I thought it best. Oh, well, my dear, you know what I mean. But things have changed now. I never expected that crabbed old godfather of mine to leave me a boh, whereas he left me everything. And here am I, down here with my own yacht at Shorehaven, and, by the grace of God. I run up against you on the front this morning. Could the fates be any kinder to a man? But never mind about me, what have you been doing, and why are you hiding yourself down here? I went over to Littlehampton and actually bearded the formidable Aunt Rachel In her den.”

“And she told you she had washed her hands of me,” Nettie laughed. “Roy, I couldn’t stand it any longer. That aristocratic poverty fretted me horribly. And then again, I was always having my dead father’s past thrown in my teeth. I have almost forgotten him, but whatever he was, I wish he were alive now, because I have the fondest memories of him.” The man at the next table stirred uneasily, and he looked out of the window, seeing nothing. “But we need not go into that,” Nettie went. on. “I made up my mind to get my own living, so, for two months, I worked like a salve at typewriting and shorthand, and my teacher got me a secretarial job with a distinguished traveller and sportsman who was living down here. Did you ever hear of Mark Shute?” The listener at the next table nearly jumped out of his chair. But the lovers noticed nothing. “Now, that’s a str mge thing,” Harley cried. “But I am more or less down here with Shute. We are going yachting together. Hasn’t he got a bungalow at Shorehaven?”

“That’s the man,” Nettie said. “The Green Bungalow at Shorehaven belongs to him, and I go there most mornings whilst he dictates his book of travel to me. It’s an easy job, because the rest of the day is my own, and I have most comfortable rooms in College Road, Kemp Town way, and I believe I am really happy for the first time in my life. I like my work, and it is nice to feel that I am earning my own living.” “Well, you won’t be for long, anyway,” Harley said boldly. “Come out on to the front, and let’s have a long, delicious afternoon together. My word, won’t Prest he surprised when I tell him that I have met you like this? I am not afraid of him now, Nettie.” “There never was any reason why you should he.” Nettie whispered. “What a small world it is, Roy. Fancy you being a friend of Mr. Shute’s.” “Yes, he’s quite a good chap. And that reminds me. I am going over to his bungalow after dinner this

evening with Prest, and a man called Andrew Macglendy for a game of poker. Prest asked me to get a pack or two of cards. He’s off somewhere to-day and he tells me that there are no cards in the bungalow. I suppose there is some shop not far off where I could get a few packs.” “Oh, yes,” Nettie said. “There is Weston’s, in Castle Square, where I get all my paper from. We can call in there on the way back from our walk.”

But still they lingered, and still Blythe sat there, apparently busy with his lunch, listening to every word that was said, and studying the girl in lavender from every angle. It seemed to him that he had got the whole story now, and that he knew exactly how things stood. And the girl a few yards away turned ever and again in his direction, regarding approvingly the well-set-up, handsome, middle-aged man, and wondered s',"ho he was. Roy Hai-ley could have told her, though he merely knew Blythe by name, as more or less a soldier of fortune who obtained his living by dubious means, though he had never been actually found out, and still moved in quite respectable society. Harley had only met him once or twice, and what he saw of the man he rather liked. He had been more or less warned against him, but then Harley had been poor for a man holding a commission in the Guards, and he had learnt his worldly wisdom in the hard school of poverty. He was hardly conscious, however, just now, that Blythe was near him. He had eyes only for the girl by his side, and, so far as the rest of the room was concerned, it might have been empty. And still they lingered there, as if loth to leave their intimate little table and seek the sunshine of that warm October day outside on the famous front. But they rose presently and made their way along the front, in the direction of Kemp Town, and from thence through Sussex Square on to the East Brighton Golf Links. It would be quiet enough there, the day was warm and dry, and they had all the vast solitude of the Downs before them, except for a few enthusiastic golfers who saw them not at all. They sat down presently on the hillside looking toward Ovingdean, and there the rest of the world seemed to matter nothing. “This has been a wonderful day,” Harley said. “I never dreamed when HONK! HONK! —and Marshall's Fospherine When you c.ross the street, and a motor-car honks in your ear, there’s no need to get jumpy and excited. If your nerves are in such a state that a motor-car horn upsets you, it’s a sure sign that you need a short course of Marshall’s Fospherine. the world’s great nerve revitaliser. This splendid nerve food and tonic puts your nerves in order by giving them phosphorus which your ordinary food cannot supply. Bucks you up and gives you plenty of pep! Ask your chemist or storekeeper for the six-sided carton—loo doses for 2s 6d. If unable to obtain easily, write the Proprietors. A. and W. Baxter, of Baxter’s Lung Preserver, Christchurch. Smaller sizes Is 6d and Is. —6.

1 got up this morning that we should he lunching together. I have been trying to find you for over a month. I wonder what your frigid old aunt would say if she knew that you were living within twenty miles of her.” “Oh, what does it matter?” Nettie laughed happily. “She would be very angry, of course, and she would he horrified to think that a Frond was getting her own living.” “But not for long, as I told you just now,” Harley said meaningly. “Look here, Nettie. You will have to chuck that job of yours. We’ll go quietly off and get married, and tell all our friends afterwards.” “You have never asked me yet,” Nettie laughed unsteadily. Without more ado, Harley gathered her into his arms and kissed her squarely on the lips. “Oh, what does it matter?” he asked. “What does anything matter, so long as there is a perfect understanding between us?” And with that Nettie gave a smile of infinite content. Nothing in the world would stand between her and her happiness now. CHAPTER H. THE GREEN BUNGALOW. It was shortly after nine o’clock when Harley walked down the steps of the Metropolitan Hotel and made his way in the direction of Brunswick Square. There he stopped at No. 201, and rang the hell. In response there appeared a manservant, correctly attired enough, but somewhat dark of skin and speaking with a soft accent that suggested vaguely South America. In answer to Harley’s question he replied that Mr. Macglendy was at. that moment in the drawing-room with the mistress of the house and two other gentlemen, whom Harley placed in his mind as Prest, his friend and rival, and Mark Shute. Macglendy he did not know, but found him to he a tall, rather handsome, spare man, with a prominent nose of the Jewish type, and a splendid beard that flowed over his chest. He was a pleasant-mannered man enough, shrewd and worldly, with a pronounced Scotch accent that seemed almost grotesque with a man who carried a Semitic suggestion in every line and gesture of him. Mrs. Macglendy appeared to be absolutely pale and colourless, like a sort of frightened automaton that moved and spoke in a dream, and, quite evidently, under

the hypnotic influence of her husband. Her face was an absolute mask, and her manner exceedingly refined and polished, with a suggestion, every now and then, of one who, in her earlier days, had been au fait with the very best society. But after the first convulsive greeting she dropped back to 1 her seat like a toy that has run down ; and spoke not another word until the others rose to go. “Well, we had better be getting ; along, I think,” Shute suggested. “By : the way, Harley, I suppose you didn’t ; forget to bring those cards along that I asked for? I am afraid if you did, we shall be more or less in the cart.” “Oh, that’s all right,” Harley said. “I bought a couple of packs this after- . noon, and they are in my pocket at the present moment. I am ready, if , the rest of you are.” “And the car is at the door,” Mac- [ glendy said. They drove along the front presently, past Shoreham until they came at length to the road that lead's down to the group of bungalows on the Shorehaven beach. Here the car was dismissed, with instructions to the chauffeur to return shortly after midnight, and the little party made its way over the shingle in the dir- ; ection of a sort of bluff on the left side of the beach, where they could see the outline of a bungalow that stood a hundred yards or so apart from . the other buildings. So far as Har- . ley could see, there was behind the bungalow a sort of floating landing . stage, locked in on either side by concrete bastions. The bungalow itself had been fashioned at some remote . period out of a wreck, and indeed, in . the uncertain moonlight, it looked . | very like a ship itself. “Rum old place, isn’t it?” Shute said , as he opened the door and switched I on the lights. “I have taken it furI nished for a year from an eccentric j old mariner w r ho made his money out | Of salving operations. This' old ■ wreck is one of his speculations, and : he turned it into a living house. It’s i the ideal spot for a man who has literary work to do, and that’s why I took it. Every convenience, you see t0 T electric light and cooking! When I am rusticating, I can look . a * ter mj’self and dispense with a servant. I have even got a landing stage here, with a floating raft—the very thing for your yacht, Harley. I i k?: ve half a mind to go into the smug- . gang trade. I believe I could work

it quite easily. What do you say, j Harley, to joining up with that yacht j; of yours ?” Harley made some laughing reply, but he was too interested in the common sitting-room of the bungalow to take much heed of -what his companions were saying. It was a quaint, j odd-shaped room, with large portholes i on either side; in fact, it was the exact ! reproduction of a large and comfort- ! able ship’s cabin, and, in a good many i ways, it reminded Harley of his own j quarters on the yacht that he had invested in directly he had come into j his money. “And a verra nice comfortable her mitage it is,” Macglendy said, in j that broad Scotch accent of his. “Mon, i ye could write here all the year round and never hear a sound. That book of yours ought to make interesting reading.” “Well, I think it should," Shute murmured. “I have been knocking about the world for the last twenty years, and I flatter myself I have had more adventures than most men.” “Yes,” Macglendy said. “A striking example of the rolling stone that does gather moss.” “Oh, I haven’t done so badly,” Shute said modestly. “Now then, gather 1 round the table while I get the drinks out. By the way, Harley, where are those cards?” “I put them on the mantelpiece,” j Harley said. “There they are, just behind you. I suppose they are all right. They were the best I could get at Westons, and I thought two packs would be enough. If you want any. more ” 1 “Oh, that’s all right,” Shute said. “That will be all right for to-night. You’d better take them down and tear all the wrappings off.” | As Shute spoke, he dived into a little j cupboard by the side of the fireplace j and produced a large tantalus w-lth \ ■ j a syphon or two of soda, and some 1 | glasses. Harley rose, and taking the 1 j two packs of cards from the spot l ! where he had placed them, broke the ; twine around them, and tore off the ; covers. Then he poured the two i t

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packs on the table from their cases, ind Macglendy picked them up ami illowed them to sift through his iingers in a professional sort of way which would not have been lest on plder men of the world than Harley, ind his old friend and school chum Prest, who sat watching Harley with i smile on that handsome, somewhat stupid face of his. For Prest was a soldier first and last and all the time. A. man of considerable means who had taken up the Army seriously, and. to him. the honour of his regiment was almost a fetish. “What are we going to play?” he asked. “I don’t care what it is,” Harley said. In his happy mood it was all the same to him. He was prepared for a long evening to play a game for which he cared practically nothing, and whatever game the others elected, for he was quite willing to fall in with. One or two games were suggested, and then they fell back by common consent upon poker. “What about the stakes,” Shute asked. “We are quite safe here from any interference on the part of the police, so I vote that for once in a way we have a real big gamble.” “Oh, don’t make it verra high,” Macglendy said. “I’m no so fond of your big stakes. Ah, no, I ken the value of money too well, and how hard it is to earn. But I’m thinking these young fellows with silver spoons in their mouths will be wanting what they call a flutter, so, just for once in a way, I don’t mind going as far as fifty pounds rises.” The others began to laugh, and Shute began to rally the Scotsman upon his caution, all of which was accepted in good part. Then they sat down to play in earnest, and for the best part of an hour hardly a word was spoken. Even Harley, careless and happy as he was, began to find himself under the fascination of the game. And, from the very first, he won steadily. It seemed to him that he could do no wrong. The more he won. the more exuberant and reckless he became, while the others looked on with humorous comments, and the usual allusions to' a beginner's luck. It was Prest who suffered more severely. for the Scotsman, in his cautious way, threw in his hand over and over again rather than take any unnecessary risks, and Prest was just about holding his own. <To be continued.!