THE STORYTELLER.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LII, Issue 297, 25 January 1910, Page 6

THE STORYTELLER.

| TKAYiaLKst.i COMi'AN lONS. 0 J "Do von know anything about r;' I is | 1 started as though iiiv ~o:it;:rv travcl--I'lli "liipu Mini; h;iii usked niv opinion of I: 1 >-i. i ]i;u[ trit• 11. lor reasons of mv own, to keep tnis iii^t-class compartment to myself, bui al the last moment, just ;i.s the train was pulling down tin' ; £uston platform, tliu ininuk'r li:ul pushed past me and ensconced himself ! comfortably in tla- middle of the .seat : opposite. "!>canib-.'" I cluttered, "why s::ou!d i. know a:r. tairg about scarabs?"'' I f\\ us onlv twenty-two al. the time.. a..t! j>h 1 fen. much older, t couldn't • (Uile s;e why i should be taken for an | authority oil scarabs. Jjesides, lliere ; were senou; reasons for mv being | t:1 1"LI l-;I by th;s seemingly harmless ! topi... The elderly gentit- 111:111 looked lit

me eurioiisl v. his laughing eves twink-

;^ iroii:eaiiv under his heavy, sail:!,' eyebrows that contrasted oddlv with the dead whiteness of his -hair. "My name is Thornton,'' he con-

tinued, "and i 111 considered rather a judge of scarabs in the little world th:i; takes an interest in these tilings. that isn't the reason whv .1 asked you that abrupt question just now." "Y\ hy did you ask it, Mr. Thornton?" 1 glanced up cautiously at a little brown portmanteau, the straps of which were napping above his head. "1 see your name is Passmore." His eyes had followed the direction of mine and had happened upon a large, sprawling label. "I'es," I said stiffly, "that's mv name, He laughed boyisiiiy with Ins great white teeth. "Its 'five years ago now. .Mr. Passsince 1 travelled with oulv one fellow-passenger, and that's what ma do

me .think of scarabs. 1 had 111 v little collection with me then, and the fellow thought I was asleep, and tried to get at them. I held him at bav three

tiours with this pistol; you see I've gel it in my pocket now. I've always carried it ever since when travelling." lie tapped the revolver playfully i\nd put it 'back into the pocket 01 ulster.

"Why didn't you stop the train?""! asked.

"Stop the train be d !" he said. heartily. "I tell you I enjoyed it. It made ma realise the value of my collection to see that wiry little Italian so anxious' to get at it. I was playing with them all the time. You should have seen the way his eves sparkled with hunger for them. Poor little devil, he had only a knife with with liim, but at least half a dozen times he felt more than willing to take chances, lie escaped like an eel before the train stopped, and I must say that I felt half-glad that I hadn't got to give him in charge. Yes, it's five years ago now, and your being alone with me in this railway carriage put me in niin., of it again. 1 suppose you hardly know the meaning of the word "scarab,' .Mr. Passmore?"

His amused, patronising air stung 111 c, and I blurted out impetuously: 'You are .speaking to the owner ot one of the finest collections of scarabs in the woijd."

My travelling companion laughed out loud.

"Didn't I tell you that my name waj Thornton—E. J. Thornton? Perhaps you have heard of mv monograph 011 scarabs?''

And then, as his initials and his monograph produced no responsive gleam of intelligence in my face, he laugned boisterously again. This made me lose all self-control, and I told him straight out that an aged relative of mine who was dying in a sanatorium halfway up the Alps, had entrusted me with 111collcctioii, which he had always intended to leave me by will. 1 was 011 inv way uaclc with it tO'iny old home in the .'.uuili of Ireland at this moment. "Well, Mr. l'assmore,'' he said at last, "I only hope that you are not Uecoivt.l us to the value of this gift. The las I thing in the world 1 wish to do is it put you out of conceit with vour hu,.

collection." "Littie collection, indeed!"

Almost before 1 knew what 1 was doing li had the brown portmanlea-.. uown beside liim. ''Little collection!''

1 tugged at the straps, the key clicked, and the thing was done.

The next instant he was making a kind of sizzling sound between his strong, set teeth, and I grinned with triumph. He was silent for at least a minute, and then lie asked very gravely: ".Mr. Passmorc, have you got tiie very faintest notion of the value of tins collection?"

I replieyl that I had a very good idea, and that that was the reason for ni v v trying hard to keep the compartment to mvself.

"It's a wonderful collection,'-' he said, ignoring my reference to exclusiveness. ''Cameos, intaglios, .scarabs. Why, Monte Cristo would have envied you this portmanteau! The copies, too, are excellent. That medusa's head, for example. might almost pas's for the original in this light. Weil, well, 1 don v want to get too covetous, and so. with your permission, I'll draw the cap over the lamp ami iiavo a few winks before we g 't to Holyhead.'' I locked the portmanteau ami replaced it in the rack above his head. I hen !i placed the keys in mv nlsier pocket and stretched myself out, thankful that ail was well. London was far behind us now, my little portmanteau would soon be on the boat, and nobody e!.-e, 1 swore to mvself drowsily, should learn that I was carrying a fortune on board.

I taink that 1 must have been dream ing after 1 hat--dreamily heavily to ill

cuniher-ome rhythm of the train. Something seemed to rustle past me in the

darkness, and T stirred and seemed to turn round half-awake, and then .-Seep took me once more. Jiuf, uneasiness lia.l settled upon me, and with it a feeling of presentiment, so that 1 stirred again and woke with a start just as the grey dawn was rising over the little, siieui W elsli places through which the train was rushing. 1 held my breath wi'.li astonishment. There, with his back turned towards m". i.ho strong, elderly ligwre of my travelling companion was bending over my open portmanteau. 1 was on the point of making for him, when I suddenly caught his eye through the mirror <■]> posite, and iu an instant he was covering me with hi; revolver. I Sank back motionltss into my corner as iie spread out tke portmanteau on the broadeushioned seat. Then, ia the faint light—tlie cap was' still over the lamp--with the pistol in one hand, he commenced carefully to examine my poor cousin's collection. Xever shall 1 forget the concentration in Ins face, which had become -strangely imisk-iike in this faint light, lie was examining minutely each separate stone, running his index linger over the delicate carving, breathing on them, placing them close to his eves, and vet never for a moment, relaxing the grim watch

that; he kept on me. 51 ore than once T started forward to intercept him. but in each case hi.-; trigger finger warned me significantly. What an ass I had been! I realised that clearly enough now. It was the stale old story of the confidential fellowpassenger and the confiding greenhorn. I was quite powerless. If i moved, the revolver moved also. Even as I glance;! at my watch the suspicious' old man was on the point of tiring. But he did not tire, and li realised thankfully that we would be at Holyhead ia less than fifteen minutes. Counting the seconds, I watched in the ghostly light of this horrible compartment. It seemed that he was going to take my portmanteau, for he did not stuff my treasures into his pockets'. 1! ■ appeared to be washing first one hand and then the other in 'the rich blaze of the jewels. And as he did so, t:ie revolver passed dexterously from hand to

hand. He had the quickness of a conjurer, and always one eye, steadfast: its' stern purpose, looked incessantly into my faee. It was utterly useless to try a spring for the alarm bell, for he was jnst in front of it. Besides this, lie was between me and the door of the carriage nearest the Holyhead platform. He was without luggage'of his own—hehad told me incidentally that his daughter would meet him with their joint luggage at Holyhead—and so he won:.! doubtless dash out with my portmanteau when the train slowed. Yes, already he was beginning to strap the little brown portmanteau with tne quick, flexible lingers of his left hand. "You scoundrel!" I exclaimed, in my desire to break the tenseness' of thesilence.

He said nothing in reply, but merelv looked at me, playing idly with my bunch of keys as lie pointed the revolver at my right temple. The muzzzle was now within a couple of feet of my head, and I could see that he meant business, and that nothing on earth would stop .him if I moved an iiieh in anv direction. He was smiling as the train slowed, and he continued to smile whimsically as he buttoned slowly his thick friezze ulster. He did not make a bolt, as I had expected that he would. On the contrary, his movements became more and more unhurried, but he never ceased to cover me with his revolver. As the train stepped he backed to the door ot the 'compartment, motioning me with his left hand to keep mv seat. I don'i know how long we glared at each other across that short space, then suddenly a bright, clear voice broke the tension. "Father, here I 11111! Whv don't you get out?" Then he turned, and in an instant I sprang at him and we rolled over together 011 the iloor of the carriage Three times the revolver spat out against the -padded scats', and then a girl's cry of dismay startled me more than anything else as the old mans terrible grip fell away flaccid from my throat. The light was full on his face now.»ftnd a guard and two porters were scrambling for the revolver, which had fallen from his nerveless fingers. Outside, a huge crowd of dark figureformed a half-circle round the cnrriu»'e. through the'open -door of which a <•"' and very pretty girl in a. dark ,'.;ree:i

travelling dress was peering eagerly. "What's the matter? Iteally,' .Mr. Passmorc, you must bo out of vouv senses, lie good enough to explain why you attacked me like this while I was asleep?" "Asleep!" The genuine astonishment in my voice s'eemed to convince him. for his expression changed as he answered :

"Yes. yes, asleep, Wiiv, I've been dreaming that scene in Italy all OVOl' again, but it looks as though I h:v' been defending vour portmanteau instead of my own! Yes, I see it -now. Here are vour keys!"

He was 011 his feet, smiling, urbane, and his daughter was kissing liim. As the guard listened to the explanation and accepted our cards, T hardly knew what to think, but I believed the iri eves implicitly. And now tiie somnambulist is my father-in-law. and he has been kind enough to add considerably to the collection of which he so nearly deprived me six years ago.—JVv J \ r Lloyd, in M.A.P.'