Her Hidden Husband

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 658, 9 May 1929, Page 5

Her Hidden Husband

Serial Story

By

Arthur Applin

Anther of "The Dangerous Game“ The. Greater Claim,” “The Woman Who Doubted ” die., die.

Copyright

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. CHAPTERS I. to lIJ. Alfred Markham and James King are congratulating one another on the fact that they are well on the way to home and 'England. They are at Singapore, and have just emerged from the hands of the barber. After a cocktail each they set off for the docks. They are late, and. at the sound of the Malaya’s sirens the two men begin to run, James King in advance. A chain, swinging from its crane, catches him, and swings him out. Alfred Markham springs forward to aid his chum. He seizes the hook on which King is impaled, but his hands slip and he is carried down only to fall on the top of Jim. Together they fall to the lower deck of the Malaya. Jim’s head crashes on an iron davit, and simultaneously Markham crashes beside him. Three lascars rush to the prostrate men, but one of them jumps up and wards them off, declaring he can carry his chum. The first mate seizes him as he collapses. Stretcher bearers carry both men to their stateroom. The captain gives the order to cast off. Robert Denny, standing on the upper deck, and a gi'ey-eyed girl beside him, have witnessed the accident. He remarks to her that it is a bad beginning to a voyage. In accordance with her wish Denny goes below and learns from the steward that the doctor does not hold out hope for Mr. Markham, who has made his fortune m rubber and was going home to spend it. The doctor bends over the less injured of the two men, and. in answer to his question, tells him he is homeward bound on the s.s. Malaya. In reply to a further question regarding the sick man's own identity, the doctor steps to the otherside of the stateroom, where a still figure is lying, and notes that the body is covered with a sarong marked “A.M. He knows the names of the temporary occupiers of T 3.14. and tells the sick man that he must be James King. Heft alone the invalid investigates both his own and the other s suit cases. He finds that the dead man was wealthy, also married, for there was a photograph of a pretty girl with “Your loving wife Violet written across it. The doctor re-enters, and injects something into his arm which induces a long sleep. Much later Ring acknowledges loss of memory to the doctor. but insists on interviewing the captain. Crossing the promenade deck an hour later he notices a gyrl with clear grev eves. She inspires him with a fresh longing for life. The captain, having looked through Markhams things, and being satisfied with King s replies tells him that the funeral will take place at eight next morning. King sees the m’ again and goes to her. She owns that his appearance has given her a She thought Ire was more dangerously injured. They converse and each discovers that the other is also makra, a fresh Mlrchmont n %he declares that the roingHfor. He 6 t ‘ we^fight‘for^it IV. and V.—The funeral of Alfred Markham takes ptee. Pete Marclimont tries to comfort James King. They meet regularly, and soon i they know they are partners for life. The \taViva arrives at Southampton, but the lovers are so engrossed that a steward I has to tell King that Mrs. Alfred Markham is waiting to speak to. him in the captain’s cabin. Pete promises not to let King lose her and he hastens to the eaptainhs cabin. The tall, dark figuie 1 of a woman awaits him. CHAPTER VII. “That will be delightful.” Mrs. Markham said. “When you have told ner ' perhaps you’ll ask the steward to take u few things I am carrying back with j me across to the customs with your > luggage. I’ll wait here.” I She went back into the cabin and ! sat down; there was a tantalus containing whisky and brandy on the table beside her. She poured out a small glass of brandy and drank some. The glass rattled on the table when she put it down; she was terribly shaken. She wanted all her self-con-trol and all her woman’s wit. Now that she was alone she was really beginning to grasp the situation which faced her; it was unparalleled; —almost beyond her powers. She didn’t see romance in it, only opportunity. She was still shivering, twisting her small white hands together; she had to come to a definite decision before her husband and the girl returned. The problem which faced her was simple enough, yet terrifying. bhe | had either to confess at once that lames King was really her husband, suffering from delusion or loss ol memory, or else accept the situation which had been, forced upon her —to

pretend her husband’s death had really occurred—and continue life as his widow. She picked up the glass and drained it. She had never really loved her husband; and he, well he had left her for fourteen years. Over and over again she had thought of seeking a divorce—easily obtained after such a long absence —but always something stopped her, held her back. She had wanted freedom, but she wanted money more. In her dreams she had always pictured herself a woman of enormous wealth, beautiful, fascinating. Now her chance had come; it seemed inevitable that she should accept it. It was inevitable! She stood up

and took a deep breath. Her hands ; were steady now; her mind clear. There was hardly any risk—for six weeks her husband had lived on board the Malaya accepted by all the passengers as James King. The dead man buried at sea had been identified as Alfred Markham. Unless King returned to Borneo, which was unlikely, no one would ever know the truth. She saw her reflection in the mirror and she smiled. A widow, rich beyond realisation —and free. She heard footsteps ascending the companion way. She turned with a smile and held out her hand as King introduced Miss Pete Marchmont. The two women were left alone while King arranged about the luggage. Pete puzzled Violet Markham; she didn’t represent any type of girl sl-e had met before. The world .in which she lived was a comparatively narrow one and she had always divided women into three distinct groups—the nice, the not quite nice, the impossible. In this, though she had j secret yearnings to be very modern | herself, she was a little old-fashioned. I And she was afraid of the younger generation; it possessed qualities

which she had never had an opportunity of acquiring. She talked to Pete in a carefully modulated voice, and was careful not to appear inquisitive, but tried to find out by an outward Show of polite interest all that had happened during the voyage from Singapore, and what sort of relations existed between Pete and King (for henceforth she, determined never to think of him as her husband again; Alfred was dead—as dead to her as he was to himself). It wasn’t difficult to assume the role which she had to play; after all she had been a widow for six weeks. “I didn’t like to ask Mr. King too many details about the accident," she said when a break came in the conversation. “He was so deeply attached to my husband and I saw it wasn’t easy for him to talk about it. He was injured, too, poor fellow, wasn’t he?" Pete told her just what had happened; she had a simple, direct way of speaking which made the narrative very vivid. Violet listened, keeping her eyes shut. She felt as if this girl with steadfast eyes almost had the power to see into the secret places of her heart. Now and then she used her handkerchief to wipe away imaginary tears. "It seems strange after so many years—that I shall never see him

| again. I wonder what lie looked like ! and if lie had changed much. ... I \ wish I had a picture of him which I | could always carry in my mind. 1 | suppose he was tanned by the suu like I Mr. King; he had a beard perhaps. | too?” i It was very easy to act for she • couldn't help feeling the drama of the ; situation. And Pete's heart went out ito her for she understood just how ! she must be feeling; because sh«-» j loved herself she wanted to underj stand everything and everyone. Since love had come to her the face of the ! whole world w*is changed: she found beauty everywhere. "I only saw him for a few moments I as he came running across the docks. | At the time I remember they looked j like two big boys. I think be was j even burnt darker by the sun than | Mr. King, and —yes, he was bearded, ! too. In the distance they looked alike, i It was all over in a moment; I’m sure ihe knew nothing. You must try to think of him going out laughing, Mrs. Markham; happy and unconscious of any danger.” Violet smiled through her .tears; . “You've made me feel much happier about it all. I'm grateful to you. Poor

Mr. King told me bow kind and sympathetic you were on the voyage. He’s a lucky man to have found such a good friend.” She looked at Pete then, but the grey eyes met hers without betraying their secret. When King came into the cabin a little later Violet saw her face light up and she was sure, from her woman’s unerring instinct, that there was something more than friendship in Pete's heart for King. Again she felt that queer stab of jealousy which she couldn’t quite translate herself. She was glad to be rid of her husband—glad, she reminded herself almost fiercely! But at the same time that another woman should want him —a girl younger, more beautiful than she —gave her the feeling she had been robbed of something which belonged alone to her. Going up to London in the train she sat in one corner of the compartment which they had to themselves, her back to the engine; Pete and King were on the other side. She busied herself with the papers and documents she had brought from the Malaya, going carefully and systematically through them, one by one. It kept her mind occupied, she explained; prevented her from thinking. She begged them to take no notice of her Pete and King sat close together. They didn’t balk as two people who are merely friends might have done, but they watched through the window the country unfold itself; now and then exchanging glances. Once Pete whispered: “Do you remember?” King shook his head: “Not exactly, but it seems sort of familiar; as if it belonged to me —to us now.” And then he added, his mouth close to her ear: “It’s going to belong to us. I’m going to work and fight so that I cau give a bit of it to you—a bit of our England for your very own.” Her band crept out unseen to hold his; she trembled at this new-found happiness, thinking, not for herself but for Jim, how she was going to make life beautiful and easy for him; wipe out the past entirely. She assured herself as she felt his strong brown hand folded over hers, that already it had ceased to exist. Tb» moment they stepped on shore thev had together stepped into a new world and a new life. Her confidence increased as the outskirts of London were reached, and she saw grey roofs and great chimneys and tall spires half-hidden in the grey mist, that always covers the city like a soft veil covering the face of a woman which only her true lover may draw back and discover the beauty it conceals. But Violet had seen the glances they exchanged and the surreptitious hand clasp, aud she smiled behind the papers she was reading. She could afford to smile no?/, and accept the fact chat they were lovers with scarcely a qualm. The strange ring Pete wore on the third finger of her left hand told her they were engaged to be married; hut her conscience danced carelessly with the figures on the page before her eyes. She was richer than the lawyers had led her to expect. Alfred’s pass-book, bankers’ receipts and Stock Exchange certificates told her that she had really come into a fortune. She tried to calculate the income she would get, but the staggered her. Ten, fifteen —perhaps twenty thousand a year. She was too thrilled, even to feel any bitterness that her husband had kept her in ignorance of the huge sums of money he was making. It was true it had happened suddenly with the great rubber boom, but the past two j years she had gone on living humbly j on a few hundred a year. j Now she would have a great house | and a motor-car, many servants, | jewels and clothes. She smoothed the | soft fur of her coat and crossed her ; knees, enjoying the luxurious feel of her silk stockings; she could buy a dozen pairs a week now if she wanted to; evening frocks from Paris; underclothes of pure silk, and the finest linen. She could make herself more beautiful and desirable than Pete could afford to make herself for the man who sat fondling her hand. The train drew into Waterloo Station; she thrust the documents back into the dispatch-case and locked it. “You will both come back and dine at my house, won’t you?” she said in gratiatingly. “You mupt, please; it | would be an act of charity.”

King felt he had to accept; Pete hesitated. She had a room engaged at a boarding-house in Bayswater, but in order to be a little longer with hei lover, she agreed. A taxi-cab drove them to Violet’s little house in Abing don Road, near Earl’s Court. It was very small, comfortably furnished, but with much taste. Violet apologised for it. “Alfred bought it for me after he had been out East for two years. I’ve kept it on for sentimental reasons, but l shall have to sell it now. The servant question in these pokey little pl?4,ces is always such a problem.” She told the maid to take Mr. King to the spare room and see he had everything he wanted, and then slip ping her arm through Pete’s, led her to her own bedroom. When King had washed, he went downstairs to the sitting-room, and looked about him with interest; very cosy and pleasant, he thought—perhaps too much furniture and too many knick- ,

aacks. but then he had lived for a long time in huts, with bare necessities. His brain was busy with the home he would make for Pete one day. Always it seemed to him in that dim, dark past he didn’t remember, that he had been working to make that home, to create something lovely for someone beautiful. Now the chance had come. If only he had come home as rich a man as poor old Markham had died! But there was plenty of time yet: as soon as he had discovered himself he would set to work all over again. He stood with his back to the mantelshelf covered with ornaments and photographs, looking at the picture of a young man which hung on the wall opposite, fresh from school ready to go out into the world. He was wondering why the boy's face seemed familiar until it suddenly occurred to him that of course it must be Mark- | ham. j He studied it carefully and then began

ito search the photographs on the mantel-shelf in the hope of finding a later one. He wanted to know just how his dead friend looked. Mrs. 1 Markham came into the room with Pete and said that dinner was ready. “I expect you’re both starving. 1 hope you will put up with a very simple English meal.” j “Just what I have been looking forward to for years.” King laughed. “Tell me, Mrs. Markham —that picture—it’s vour husband, isn’t it, w*hen he was very young, before I knew him?” He saw her start and change colour, and he mentally kicked himself for being a tactless ass. “Yes,” she said quickly, “Yea . . . Isn’t it sad, it’s the only portrait I have. It was taken when he left Hayleburg, long before we even met. I wonder you recognised ; it.” “Oh. it was easy to see it was Markham all right —the eyes I expect—eyes never change.” (.To be continued daily).