The Courage of Love

Sun (Auckland), Volume IV, Issue 935, 31 March 1930, Page 5

The Courage of Love

COPYRIGHT ' PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT

S'-

MADAME ALBANESI

Author of " Love'* Harvest.” "The Road to Love.” ” The Way to Win” etc.. »

CHAPTER XVIII. The advertisement which had brought about such a quick meeting between Martin Joyce and Gresham had certainly been remarked by the two conspirators. As usual it was Burke who found it out. He was a great reader of the newspapers; as a matter of fact he was always searching the columns to discover if there would be anything connected with his own nefarious past brought to light, and he always made it a practice to read the agony column. Consequently the advertisement inquiring for anyone who could give information about the late James Ladbroke was almost the first thing he had seen the morning of the day that they had made their flitting from one part of London to the other. He had not had a good night. Burke was yellow. He had not the slightest hesitation in robbing, or threatening, or playing the most unworthy part, but he had always avoided violence, and though he had been dragged into complicity by Townley, he had been innocent of the actual cause of Diana Ladbroke’s father’s death. This, however, served him very little. Whenever he tried to say the same to his fellow accomplice, Townley always scoffed at him and said, “Who’s got to know which of us pulled the trigger?” the man would ask. “You or me?” And on one occasion he had said—- “ The only man who could have known anything was the chap that 1 shot down when he tried to come between me and Ladbroke. Well, he’s out of the way, there is nothing to fear from him.” It, therefore, had been a most violent shock to this man, brutal and strong, heartless, arrogant as he was to have been given the information by Burke the night before that this man whom he had imagined to be dead and buried out in that westerr part was actually in existence. And it did not need very much thought on the part of the man to realise that for once Henry Burke was right, and they were threatened with grea! danger. The appearance of the advertise ment asking for information about James Ladbroke struck another blow to Cyril Townley. It was all ver\ well to mutter ugly words under his breath, and to round on his partner and to snarl at him like an angrj beast. It uvas all very well to abuse Diana who, if she had played into his hands as he had expected her to j would by this time have done every , thing he intended her to do, and wouli have brought into his keeping all the | wealth which was gushing out of the oilfield in Arizona. It was all very well to plot ane plan, and get aw r ay from that norther! part of London, and give orders t' Miriam Stanton, and also to fine , means of letting Francis Stantoi I know that he was to come to heel a once, the fact remained, and it left s i cold sensation in the heart of the man, that in all probability be wouli be outwitted before he could be safe guarded. Had that advertisement not ar peared, he might have been dispose' j to dismiss the suggestion that Henr; I Burke had, in fact, seen the mai

whom they both hah reason to dread. He might have supposed that Burke had made a mistake, and had seen someone who bore a chance resemblance to the man whom he, Townley, had shot down in cold blood. But that advertisement clinched the matter. It was evident that someone was working against them; someone was on the scene. In fact, though it! upset him considerably to read the advertisement, he had prepared himself for something of this sort days before. He had thought it more than possible that Mrs. Thorp, or her solicitors, might have put in an advertisement asking for information. But when the time had gone smoothly past, and nothing had appeared, he had drifted into assuring himself that there was nothing to be feared from James Ladbroke’s sister. But taken in conjunction with the terror which had gripped Henry Burke the night before, this clever schemer had to confess to himself that he would have to be very careful in his movements now that danger was surely approaching. When Townley arrived at the shabby old house, which was somewhere near the river, he was in one of his worst moods. And when Mrs.. Stanton had to tell him that her son had not appeared, he lost his temper, and he raved, and swore at her, using frightful language, and becoming so violent that, upstairs in the room where she sat, Diana had been terrilied. Mrs. Stanton was correct in imagining that glimmers of the truth, and of memory, were coming back into the girl’s disordered mind. To begin with, though she still spoke so conli dently about her father, there came times when her voice would falter, and more than once she had asked Miriam Stanton tile question as to when her father would be coming | back from the voyage which he had j been ordered to take for his health. It cost the older woman more than j she possibly could have described, to have to continue to play on the sweet nature and credulity of this child. And when Townley was in such a state as he was this night, the woman went absolutely in bodily fear, not for herself, as to what he might do to the girl, whom she now knew was such an important factor in what he planned for the future. Fortunately however, he did not stay. The car was waiting for him, and he got into | it and drove away. j “I’ll be here in the morning,” ho i said. | It was not the usual car he was i using. Indeed after he had gone, and ■ ; Mrs. Stanton had come downstairs | from comforting and helping Diana. 1 tenderly, and carefully, to get un--1 dressed and into bed, Garrett, the ' usual chauffeur, came round to see her. .She had made use of the occu’I j pied bedroom. She had lit a fire. i i > I

for the evening was very chilly, and she had tried to make the room as cosy and comfortable as she possibly could for the girl whom she now loved so warmly. When Mrs. Stanton opened the door to Garrett, she saw by the man’s discoloured face that he had either had an accident, or been lighting. CHAPTER XIX. The appearance of the chauffeur I brought fear to the heart of Miriam Stanton. j “What has happened?” she asked ; nervously. “I saw you were not driving him tonight. Have you quarrelled?” “Well,” the chauffeur said with an attempt at a smile, “we.had what you might call a bit of an argument and 1 came off the worst!” Mrs. Stanton held the door open for the man to enter the kitchen. “You have given me a turn,” she said. “Once on a time I wa.s strong, I could stand up to most things, but I’ve changed; it doesn’t take much to upset me these times.” She paused a brief while and then said, “I’m not thinking about myself Ed., it’s this child we’ve got hiding here.” Then she stood and looked at Garrett, and the man spoke hurriedly. “Yes, you may look at me!" said the chauffeur. “He fair knocked me out, brute that he is! Of course, he's given me the chuck, too! Well, I tell you, I don’t intend to sit down under it. Of course, he’s kept me going by way of threats just because as you know I did time once. He’s held that over me, but I’ve been a fool just as you’ve been, Miriam. After ail what can he do to us?” Garrett laughed bitterly. _ “Why I can do a lot against him! And I tell you I’ll do it, too, before I’m done with him!” “Come in and sit down, Ed,” said Miriam Stanton. “Let me attend to that face. What a blow!” “Blow!” the chauffeur said. “Why. he all but killed me! Look here. Miriam, are we going to stand for this much longer ?” Garrett sat down, and Mrs. Stanton brought a bowl and soft towel and poured hot water from the kettle. As she bathed his face, Garrett lapsed into silence, and then began speaking again “And this child upstairs, this Miss Ladbroke,” he said. “if you’d seen her as 1 saw her when she came out of the hotel that day. My, she was strong and beautiful! There wasn’t anything of a helpless idiot about her then. I tell you, I thought she was killed when I saw her lying on the road, all bleeding as she was. And I wanted him to let me take her to the nearest hospital; but -would he do it? Not he! How is she?” queried the man. “Is she all right?” Miriam Stanton answered this slowly. “She seems a little bit disturbed tonight, she isn’t quite the same as she was. I think she’s beginning to know things are all wrong and she’s frightened. Of course, he’s been here, and he made a most frightful scene because my son was to have met him. and he didn’t come, and that upset the child upstairs; hearing him shout |and rave!” “Ah!” said Garrett, with a short laugh, “your son, Francis, knows a thing worth two of that! Look here. I ask you again, are we going to stand for this much longer, Miriam? He's kicked me out, and he owes me five weeks’ wages. Each time I’ve asked him for it he’s sworn at me! I spoke to Burke, and he promised that I should have the money yesterday. Burke would promise anything!” the j chauffeur said with a sneer. “Where | is he by the way?” j “I don’t know,” said Mrs. Stanton, j “and I don’t care. I suppose he -will I turn up here, and want a bed, and j supper, and all the rest of it, greedv ! pig that he is.” j "Well I’ll sit around awhile,” said Garrett, “because I mean to see anyI one as comes here tonight. I’m not j afraid! It’s all very well for him to

threaten me, bully me, and knock me | < about! Why I’m bruised all down j ] one side. But I'm through with him, j ] Miriam. And if you take my tip. ' | you’ll follow my lead.” | “Ah, my dear, it’s not so easy for j me as you think,” the woman answered him. “But stay where you are, I’ll get you something to eat. And if you want some money, I can give you a little.” “I’m not going to take your money,” the chauffeur answered. “I'm going to get it out of them. Strikes me. Miriam, as they’re getting a bit short. ; I overhear a good bit in Che car, you | ! know, and it seems like as they ain't I j pulling it off like they were. There’s | j some trouble out in America, some j ! official there who threatens to come j

over here and straighten things out. It doesn’t seem right that they should have so much money out of Miss Ladbroke’s bank. Queer business, that’s what it is, a mighty queer business.” Mrs. Stanton sighed. “You’re right, Ed—it is a queer business; and the worst of it all is that I’m powerless to try to get out of it or help this girl as I want to help her.” Mrs. Stanton’s theory that memory was beginning to stir in Diana’s shattered mind w 7 as a correct one. The night she slept for the first time in that shabby old house (so different from the one which they had occupied lin the north), though Diana had j closed her eyes and had let the i housekeeper think that she had fallen : asleep, she lay a long time wide awake, staring into the darkness. A lamp in the road sent a flicker of ligh into the room. (To be Continued Tomorrow!