The Bantyre Fortune

Sun (Auckland), Volume IV, Issue 1002, 19 June 1930, Page 5

The Bantyre Fortune

FRANK PRICE

*

COPYRIGHT PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT

CHAPTER VIII.— (Continued.) j | "it had a metallic tone, like the ring ! of iron or steel, and it seemed to travel | all over the house. I didn't catch j what he was saying; mother hushed i him in the middle of a sentence, and | they went into the sitting room aud the door was shut. X could still hear i their voices, aud stayed at the door l for a long time listening. I had a j feeling that something evil was in the I house. After what seemed hours, mother came from the room and went into the kitchen, and I knew she was cooking food. 1 shut my door aud crept back to bed. terrified lest she should run to look at me. Everything was very still in the middle darkness of the night now that their voices had ceased, and, as I felt my way to the bed holding my breath from fear of being heard. 1 caught sounds from the sitting room. It was beneath me. and there were only boards and rafters between. The tramp was moving about cautiously, and presently there came a click aud j a faint noise of wood closing on wood. I i knew what it was. The desk my I mother kept her money and papers in I alwavs made that sound when the lid j | was being shut. I wanted to scream i cut, that she was being robbed, but 1 was afraid there in the silent dark- ' ness, and a minute later mother went back to the sitting room with the meal she had prepared, and the voices j began again. I got into bed, shivering. but must soon have dropped i asleep, for the next thing I knew was being awakened in the morning with i kisses just as usual. Breakfast was 1 ready when I got down, and there was - no sign of the tramp having been in j the house.” ‘‘Except your mother's anxiety I about what sire had lost?” i ‘‘That was not until some days later. Pbe didn’t seem to miss any thing at first. I tried once or twice to get her to say something about the man, but she always stopped me, aud I saw it was oue of the subjects I must leave alone. When she seemed to realise that something had gone she said nothing to me. and it was onlv by the way she turned the house upside down that I guessed something was missing. But whatever had been taken could not have made a great, difference, for things went on just as usual. 1 never saw nor heard 6 of the tramp again, and have only | j occasionally remembered him as one those unpleasant incidents that

leave a vivid impression ou a child's mind.”

‘‘l know,” said Mark. ‘‘Everybody has such memories. I am glad this one has remained with you. It tits in with my suspicions, aud convinces me that the proof of your mother’s marriage does exist and is in London now.” “In London?” she echoed. “Then who has it?” “Big Dave.”

“Oh!” For a moment a reflection of the fear she had felt as a child clouded her eyes. "Do you know him?” “Unless your description of him, and particularly of his peculiar voice, lias led me altogether astray, I do. You remember Garfield speaking of a gang of crooks who were trying to blackmail him and Hector Cousins?” “Yes.” “Big Dave is the leader of that gang, and youir mother’s marriage certificate is the weapon they are using in the attempt.” “But,” she was staring at him wideeyed. “he accused you of being in league with them —he insinuated that you were a spj’ in their pay.”

Aud you refused to believe him T couldn't believe it of you!”

"Why? Tell me why?” He had her hand in both his and drew her toward him until their faces ' were close together. "Is it because you feel to me as 1 feel to you—-because you lov« me?” She swayed slightly and in another instant would have been willingly in his arms, but he suddenly thrust her gently back and withdrew his hands. “No. no! Don't answer that! I have no right to ask it!” “Why not?” she asked wonderingly. “There can be no talk of love between you and rue!” he said, through his teeth, and, with his hands tightly clenched on his knees, averted his head so that he could not see her face. “But there lias been!” There was a note of pained astonishment in her voice. “You said you loved me! You proclaimed it openly before those three men!” “That was different. I couldn’t help it! Every word I said then was true. I do love you. I loved you the very instant i saw your face in the street yesterday. Then? No! It was more than that. It went farther back. If it. had begun then I should have been surprised —amazed. I wasn't. I hud never set eyes on you before, but you were not a stranger—you were just, the realisation of dreams that had been with me all my life! I had never acknowledged them, never put them consciously into words or even thoughts; but they were always there

and at sight of you they took shape and form and became reality. And I knew that I loved you and shall love you for ever!” “But if you tell me this, why mayn't I ——” she was beginniug faintly, almost overwhelmed by the tumbling passion of his words, but he stopped her with a raised hand: “You must not! You must not! I ought not to have said so much, but I could uot help it and. after all, it can do no harm for me to speak. I am not asking anything of you—l told you I have no right. ” “No right if you love me!” she broke in with a reproachful accent “Not even then! Love is a great thing—since yesterday I have known it is the most wonderful thing in life, but there are actions even it cannot justify. One of them would be for me to ask anything of you now except to lie allowed to help you to defeat the villains who are trying to rob you of the fortune that should be yours.” “But when that is done, if it can be done?” she questioned doubtfully. “You will be out of my reach for ever.” “Out of your reach?” “You will be a rich woman—one of the richest women in Englaud. unless Garfield and Cousins robbed your father on an enormous scale —and I shall be —what I am now!” “What are you now?” she asked, startled by the sudden bitterness in his voice. “A pauper! A cumberer of the : ground—-one of the unemployable, | without the right to live because no- | body will allow me the right to ; work!” “But I don't understand. You don’t ; 100k —you don’t behave —you were at ! that expensive hotel last night ” i The words died away, as she stared at j him uncomprehendingly. “I was there as a thief!” he said j harshly. “A thief?” “Not to steal money. One can’t, even j be a successful pickpocket without I training. But 1 was starving, and was there to get a meal on false pretences. I expected to pay for it with | my liberty. I couldn't do it any other way. for I had only one penny in the : world!” i "Oh!” lie was uot looking at her, I or the sweet compassion in her lovely | face might have been more than he | could hear. "Now do you see why there can be j no talk of love on your side between ! us?” j He put the question almost fiercely, j. looking straight ahead through the i front glass of the cab. They had been in busy streets for some time now and were driving through the Kensington quarter, but he was unaware of the fact. There was wild tumult in his mind where love was fighting with despair. He was sure he knew what her answer would be, but when it came it made him jump as though he j had received an electric shock. It ; was one firmly-spoken word; j “No!” “No?” He could only repeat it as | he turned to look at her. I “No!” she said again. "I don’t see I anything of the sort! What I do see

is ” The cab was slackening speed and drawing in to the kerb, and she looked out. “Why, here we are at the hotel! You must come in and tell me more, and I ”

“Yes, you ?” The cab stopped, and he had his hand on the catch to open the door. “I shall talk about what I choose!” She was sitting very erect, and there was an expression of determination on her face that struck him as at once dominating and adorable. Suddenly she smiled. “Open the door and let us get out,” she said. “We can’t sit here all day!” Mark did as he was told. CHAPTER XIV. LOVE. Naomi booked her room in the hotel, and asked for a private sitting room to which she could take Mark. Once, there, with the door shut, she faced him, gravely. “Now,” she said, ' before I say any more, finish your story. Tell me everything you know, and all j’ou iutend to do.” He gave her a rapid account of all that had happened to him ou the previous day, making no attempt to conceal either his poverty or the state of mind in which lie went to the restaurant. She listened with many exclamations of remorse. "All this was my fault!” she cried. “If it hadn’t been for me you wouldn’t have spent your last money ou that, wretched cab fare. That was a tragedy for you. And I only thought something funny happened!” “If it had not happened I should not be here to work for for you now,” he said. He told of Grierson’s intervention, the adjournment to the fiat, and the story told to him there. "It was perfectly plain th'at this scoundrelly gang had got possession of your mother’s marriage certificate and were j holding it over Cousins and Garfield for the purpose of getting money. I have no doubt Grierson and Company asked a pretty stiff price, and Garfield and Cousins would not part until convinced that there was no way out of it. Even if they were satisfied that the marriage was a fact, and evidence of it existed, they wouldn’t cave in without a struggle. The evidence is only a scrap of paper, and could easily be destroyed if they could gain possession of it; which I believe they have actually attempted to do.” "Do you mean to steal it?” “Yes, if you can call it stealing.” “What else could you call it?” “Well, if it comes down to brass tacks. Hector Cousins has as much right to it as Big Dave—perhaps a little more since he is a relation of your father’s.” “Neither of them has any right to it.!” she exclaimed. “It was my mother’s, and belongs to me!” ! . "That is so. and 1 am going to see i that, you have it!” : “How?” i “I am not quite sure, but I expect I it will end in my doing a little steal j ing on my own.”

“To give to me?” “Of course.” “That would not be stealing,” she said with conviction. “But would it “Safe?” Mark laughed. “What has that to do with it?” “Everything!” She went to him, her face and manner displaying an anxiety that thrilled him. “These people are criminals —all of them, from tvhat you say, but I have seen Big Dave, and the memory of him has been a terror to me ever since. There is nothing he would not donothing!” She caught him by the sleeve. “You would be risking your life! You must not do it!” “It would he for you,” he said. “That makes it all the worse for me. You must not do it!” “But unless that document is found you can’t claim the fortune that should be yours. You will lose it. for ever.” “Let it go!” she cried. “Let it go?” He stared at her in j amazement. j “I don’t want it! What good would I it be to me? What is it going to do if X get it? Why did you speak as you did in the taxi? I know what you meant —how you were thinking! I would be rich, you would be poor; my wealth would be like a wall between us. That is what you think. It isn’t true—it need not be true, but. your pride and your man’s lense of honour makes you think it is, aud you would follow that although it broke my heart!” “Naomi!” he cried in a voice of wonder. He took hold of her arms and held her while he looked deep into her eyes. “What are you saying to me ?” “I am telling you that I don’t want this money!’ she said. “That is not the fortune my heart is asking for! There is better wealth than that, and if you must be poor, let me be poor as well!” “Does that -mean that you love me?” “You silly boy, is there anything else that it could possibly mean?” she I answered with an adorable smile. For a moment he stood regarding her with i a. dazed, incredulous expression, unable to realise that she was in earnest. Then conviction came, aud with an inarticulate cry he gathered her to his arms. “You won’t bother any more about the wretched fortune, will you?” she said at last, when reasonable speech seemed possible. | “I must!” he replied. “It is yours : Do you think I could stand aside and see you robbed without lifting a hand to prevent it?” “But the danger—” "You don't want me to be a coward, surely?” “No, but I couldn’t bear you to take such risks for my sake, and for something I don't really want.” “You shall hare your own!” lie said with determination. “It is my job to see that you get it!” "I have my own!" she whispered, and her arms tightened round his neck. There was silence again as i their lips met; then she drew back | her head. “And what will happen if

Ido get all this money? You said it would be a barrier between us. Am I to gain that and lose you?” The question brought him back to earth. His face grew gravely troubled, and he gently disengaged himself from her embrace. She shrank a little from him, and there was suffering in her voice as she asked: “Are you going to say that all this means nothing?” “God knows it means everything to j me!” he cried. “Aud yet it should jnot have happened—l should not have , allowed it to happen!” Unable to en- ■ dure the reproachful look she bent on him, he turned away and strode to the window of the room, where he stood > for some minutes gazing unseeingly j into the street while he struggled to ! master his emotions. Presently he faced her again, and ! the effort he was making to speak } calmly showed in the tenseness of the attitude he maintained as he spoke. “It was heaven to have you in my | arms and to feel your dear lips on j mine!” he said. “It was sweeter than j any dream I ever had of heaven to hear you say you love me, but I ought j not to have let you say it, and I must j forget that the words were spoken.” j “Forget! ” “No! That’s impossible! I could; never forget it if I lived a million years! I should have to forget you first, and that —” He broke off abruptly. “In pity’s name don’t look at me like that! Don't make me look at you or I shall not be able to say what must be said. Here!” He stepped forward, and, taking her almost roughly by (he arm. led her to a settee. "Sit down.” She obeyed silently, and be sank beside her. leaning forward with his clasped hands between his knees. “Now listen. "I am listening,” she said. “That fortune is yours by every right of morality and of law. Yon say you don’t want it —yes, yes, I know !” i as a movement told him she was about jto interrupt. “You mean that now, ;! and you believe you would never ! i change. Perhaps you would not. but. i j ou the other hand if poverty and pri- | ration came —” "I should not be afraid of them with t you." she said. ! He drew a deep breath and the clasp of his twisted lingers grew so tight the the knuckles showed white. I (To be Continued Tomorrow.)