The Storyteller.

Taranaki Daily News, 15 January 1916, Page 9

The Storyteller.

FOR ENGLAND AND A WIFE,

A TALE OF THE ALTIX TERROR.

(By James C. A. Harsh).

'"But, sir, I am neither a pauper nor i a wastrel, and in ovcrv way—save I wealth—:ny family is equal to" vour3. Besides, you said only a few moments I ago that all Englishmen are equal, now ! tha't we all fight for the same object i —the freedom of our country!" "It's no use, Dornton. I will not ] listen to you. That you and my daughter have been on more intimate terms than your relative positions in society should allow, I have known for some time. But it must end—once and for all, unless ." The speaker paused, and glanced keenly at the young officer. "Unless- V "You are in perfect health?" "Yes, sir." "And as a soldier, no matter what private ties you may have, you are prepared 'to Sacrifice all—all—for your country's good?" "All. Yes, sir." "That being the case, I will give you one chance of winning my daughter's hand." It was November, 1920. Six months earlier the European war-cloud had burst, and England, lulled into a sense of false security, had been caught napping. The European countries, with the exception of France, has simultaneously declared war against the mistress of the seas. And while the German forces had kept Britain's ally busy on her own frontiers, the combined navies had utterly vanquished the English Fleet off Cape Wrath. Landing an immense army at three different points, they had inarched rapidly through the northern counties. Twice only was their advance challenged and checked, with but slight success by our ha If-slumbering army. England's case was, indeed, desperate. The capital itelf was surrounded by a vast army, while a still greater danger menaced the city from within. For the aliens, although long since cast off by their own countrymen, were making, patriotism an excuse for rapine and wholesale plunder; turning against the nation which had protected, fed, and clothed them. The only hope of England lay in Baden-Powell, who, with an army of irregular troops, trained from boyhood, was harassing the invaders in the north. Messenger after messenger had been dispatched to him, but none returned, and-the famous general's army seemed in utter ignorance of the new danger.

In the study of Sir John Carrutheri, England's Premier, Mites Dornton, late lieutenant in his Majesty's 17th Lancers, and now of the Secret Service, had just heard from the lips of the old statesman how bad things really were. He had heard that, although day by day the bulletins informed the people of the approach of Baden-Powell's army, the general was as far away as ever. He had learned for the first time of the silence of the messengers, and his lips blanched as he thought of what their fate might probably hare been—of the fate that might be his and that of the girl he loved. , From under his bushy eyebrows the old Premier studied the young officer's face, trying to read the thoughts of hi 3 companion. When he spoke his voice was harsh, and sounded strangely in the quiet room. "Will you go, Dornton? Find BadenPowell at any cost and deliver into his hands the dispatch I will give you. You know the danger and the reward. It remains for you to decide whether you will risk one to gain the other." Miles Dornton was silent. Vividly his memory conjured up the happiness of the past months. The face of the'girl he loved—'the daughter of the man who was so calmly making him an offer which might mean death—rose before him. It seemed to smile as though* with encouragement. "Do yop refuse?" The statesman's voice was harsher, and something of contempt had crept into it. Dornton pulled himself 'together. His dreams had vanished. "No—!I accept," he answered, quietly. "Then come to me in an hour's time for your dispatches. Meanwhile"—the sharp eyes twinkled—"you will find Kitty in the music room. Say good-bye to her. But mind, not one word as to my promise or the real cause of your absence." Needing no second hint, Dornton left the study, and bounded up the broad staircase to join his sweetheart, and bid her what might, for aught he knew, be a last farewell. The Premier wrote rapidly for some time. At length he finished and carefully blotted and sealed the dispatch he had just penned. "I think that young man will succeed," he muttered, Then. he. too. left the room.

"Halt! Who goes there?" The quick, sharp challenge of a sentry suddenly roused a dream of his far-ofi home, where little Max is waiting for the time when' "daddy" will return. Again, the sharp crackle of brushwood, followed by a second challenge—then silence. For a minute or two the sentry strained eyes and ears in an endeavour to determine what the noise might be, but he discovered nothing. "Bah!" he muttered, irritably. "This accursed fog-bound country is getting on my nerves. It was only fancy." With a shrug of the shoulders he lowered his weapon, and, standing at ease, fixed his eyes on the distant camp fires, and dreamed once more of the Fatherland. Even as he settled himself a dark figure detached itself from the surrounding fog and crept slowly towards him. The undergrowth crackled once more, and with a startled cry the sentry turned and recognised his danger too late. Strong arms snatched the rifle away, and before he could cry out for help hands of steel clutched his throat, slowly—surely—choking him. With a stifled (poan the man hung limp and lifeless in the other's arms; then, as the awful grip relaxed, he fell with a dull thud to the ground. Quickly the man who had taken human life so ruthlessly stripped him of the thielf greatcoat, and, drawing it over his own clothes, paused to look for a second at the still figure lying among the withered furze. "Poor devil!" he murmured, and plunged into the fog. Before him lay the camp fires of the enemy; behind, the dafk eity which held in its keeping the woman he loved

The first blow had been struck for England's freedom. For Mil** Dornton there was no hope or chance iff retreat. Four clays later, unto ctvver of the gathering darkness, Dorntog, footsore and weary, crept into Lancaster. At Preston, by a lucky chance, he had learned that Baden-Powell was at Carlisle, resting quietly after his labours, totally unconscious of London's impending fate. Disguised as a farm labourer, Dornton was able to prowl about without fear of molestation; but he learned nothing. As soon as the night should fall he had determined to set out on the last stage of his perilous journey. True, he expected very little or no opposition now; but the events of the last few days had taught him to exercise the greatest caution in all he did. He lounged slowly along in the gathering gloom, thinking of his chances, and of the reward that awaited him, for now he was certain of success. Suddenly lie cannoned violently against a. man hurrying in the opposite direction. With a muttered remark about "clumsy fools," the man passed quickly on. Not so Dornton. As though turned to stone, he watched the rapidly retreating figure; then, with a beating heart, he lurched after him in keen pursuit. His brain worked rapidly, his trained intuition warned him of danger ahead, not only to himself but to his mission. Under ordinary circumstances there is nothing strange 111 being reviled by a surly pedestrian, whose progress one has incommoded, and whom cue's clumsiness has nearly precipitated into the gutter. But the harsh voice and churlish action were sufficient for Dornton; for in the voice of the man lie had so nearly brought to earth, and the one quick glance lie had secured of the angry face, he had recognised the Premier's private secretary, Jasper Redgrave. What was the man doing 5n the quiet little country town, away from his duty? How had he managed to leave the beleagured city? "Strange!" Dornton muttered, as he elbowed the crowd aside. "What can he be doing here,' and how tlia devil did he arrive? By Jove! If ay suspicions should be correct after all! At any rate it's my duty to find out what his game is before I go any further." Dornton knew that for some time past—in fact, ever since a mysterious influence had placed the man in hia position of high trust—Redgrave had been in the habit of meeting certain shady foreigners, and in his heart he belived the man was nothing more or less than a paid spy in the service of the enemy. He had mentioned his suspicions to his chief on more than one occason, and had at length grown so persistent, that the great man had told him, bluntly, that it was advisable for young officers to obey orders only, and not interfere with matters that an ever-watchful Intelligence Department was quite competent to deal with.

The rebuff, couched in the curt terms of a red-tape-bound officialism, had long rankled, and the memory of it flashed across his mind as he followed his quarry across the market-place, and plunged into a. labyrinth ;of narrow, dark alleys. Night had completely fallen by now; and, time after time, Dornton almost lost his man. But he was guided by the sound of his footsteps. Suddenly the footsteps stopped. So did Dornton. After waiting a good five minutes, he decided to push on, in the hope of once more getting on the track of the secretary. But to no purpose. In that maze of courts, alleys, and cheap lodginghouses, Redgrave had vanquished without warning, as though the earth had opened and swallowed him. With an angry curse at his own stupidity, Dornton stood still, vainly listening. Suddenly a cry rang out on 'the still night air—again—this time louder and more distinct—the cry of a woman in mortal pain or terror. Immediately he forgot his vexation at the unsuccessful issue of his search. Running quickly in the direction of the sound he saw an open doorway, from which streamed a dim and flickering light. On the threshold he paused, and listened again— then, throwing discretion to the winds, he sprang up the creaking stairs. The lower rooms were absolutely bare of furniture, and obviously untenanted. At the top of the third flight his further progress was stopped by a closed door. It yielded to his shoulder, and, firmly gripping his revolver, he entered.' With a quick glance he took in every detail of the filthy apartment from the greasy floor 'to the broken and patched window, through which a few rays of moonlight struggled. There was no one there. He was about to continue his search elsewhere, when, hidden by the gloom, in the furthest corner of the room, he observed a small door, over which hung a torn and dirty curtain. From beneath there filtered a tiny ray of light. With one stride he crossed the room. To tear the curtain aside and enter was the work of but a second. The room was smaller and even dirtier than the other. Strips of a once gaudy paper hung from the discolored walls; in the grate a small fire struggled' for existence. In the centre stood a dilapidated table, on which a guttering candle burnt; while in a corner, on a bed covered with filthy rags, a woman lay sobbing violently. The noise his entrance made roused her, and with a cry she sprang to her feet. Even in the dim light, Dornton could see that she was young and beautiful, while the dress she wore contrasted strangely with her surroundings. At the sight of a stranger she crouched back against the wall, her eyes dilating with terror. As he approached her, she held up her arm as though to ward off a blow. "What is the matter?" Dornton asked, and, without waiting for a reply, he continued: "I heard you scream,' and hastened to see if I could render you any assistance." The woman still gazed at him with horror, but did not answer. "Come, let me take you out of this hole. When you are calmer, you shall tell me all about it—if you wish." With a quick movement, he gained her side, and, placing his arm round her, was about to lead her to the door, when, with a cry, she reeled back and lay a dead weight in his arras. She had fainted. "Lord! Here's a pretty go!" he muttered. "Now, what am I to do?" Well might lie ask himself that question. Alone at midnight, in a filthy hovel, with a woman fainting in his arms, a nation's fate in his keeping; lie almost felt inclined to curse himself for interfering in an affair which, on the face of it. did not concern Uixa. Uui

on." look at his companion's face settled tin? question, aiid, taking lier in him arms, lie was about to leave the room, when a crushing blow fell on his head, a red mist swam before his eyes, he was only conscious of the fact that the woman struggled from his arms, a second blow descended with a cruel force, and lie si>nk senseless to the door.

''All right! Leave him to mo. I'll soon " '•lint, mind, no bloodshed, or " These disjointed sentences, coming as though from a great distance, were the first tilings Dornton heard as he slowly recovered consciousness. His head ached dully, and for a time he could not make out where he was. He tried to raise a hand to his wounded head, and discovered that lie was bound securely. In a flash, memory came back to him, and \yith a groan he managed to turn his head sufliciently to see the occupants of the room. At the rickety table stood Jasper Redgrave, and before him, in an attitude half supplicating, half threatening, was the woman at whose call Dornton had walked into the trap set for him. On the table in front of his enemy lay the dispatch case, while the document itself was in his hand. "This will be of enormous value to our friends," Kedgrave was saying. ''Although we knew that London's state was well-night hopeless, yet we hardly dared to )j(£ie that it was as bad as this proves. Yes, an army will arrive, but not the one they pray for. In a short time, a week—a fortnight at most— London must fall, and then I shall—take my share of the good things it contains."

'He laughed, well pleased with himself. The bound and helpless man gave a smothered cry of rage. At the cry the other turned, and, taking the candle, came slowly across the room to where the other lay. * <- Au, my friend," lie laughed brutally as he held the light to Dornton's face, "so you've come round. I'm glad of it, for I want to speak to you, and time presses." He turned to the woman. "You may go." The woman approached the bed, but kept her eyes.averted. "Remember your promise," she said. "Should you forget it, I, for my part, shall not forget my threat." ■ She left the room, and the two men were alone. "And now," Redgrave remarked, sitting on the edge of the bed, "before I bid you farewell for ever, my friend, I wish 'to explain one or two things which may at present appear incomprehensible to you. In the first place, I should like you to know that to-night's little coup is not one of sudden chance. Oh, no! Ever since you left London we have never lost sight of you. We might easily have settled your affairs when you so cleverly removed one of onr sentries and passed through our lines. Fifty times on your journey north you wore within an ace of death. To-night you jostled me in the streets. I intended you to do so. When, after folh wing me, you lost the scent and paused listening for my footsteps I was within a few yards of you. !t is stianse, is it not, how easily I learned everything—strange, hut really verv simple Ah, toe good Sir John shomd !>.; move rai efui o.' his choice of men destined to hold important positions of trur,. and, aboveall he should not use an ordinary blotting pad when writing his dispatches."' He laughed quietly. "Ah, now you y-ish your bom 1 ." were a little freer, eh, my friend? T, -on my part, thank the good man—an Kr.ojilsh sailor, mind yoi—who Knight me to ue knots so securely. Put comp, to Imsiness." He waved his hand to.vards the table. "The dispatch you have so kindly brought me tells me what little I do not know; the true state of London, and, above all, the signals on receiving which the defenders will throw open the gates to the general and his relieving army of clerks and shop assistants. In a few hours I shall dispatch a message from you to the 'Premier, announcing your success anil the approach —the rapid approach—of the relieving army. A few days later a fierce though bloodless battle will rage round the city. At nightfall the expected signals will be given, the gates will be flung open, a grand Te Deum will be celebrated in the churches, and our army will enter in its role of victorious rescuer. The rest, I think, I may safely leave to your imagination."

"You cur!" broke from the pallid lips of the helpless man. "Then," continued Redgrave, heedless of the interruption, "I shall claim my reward—the beautiful Kitty. Alas, ours will be but a short honeymoon, I fear, as affairs of State will claim so mhch of my attention. Yet doubtless she will forgive my absence, and wait with patient longing for my return." Dornton struggled wildly to free himself; seeing which, Redgrave leaned forward and carefully tested the bonds which held him. "Why struggle? The ropes, I allow, are somew'hat tight, but that will not really inconvenience you much longer." He laughed, then his mood changed; and with ungovernable fury he struck his prisoner across the face. "You fool, you fool! You thought you had won; but remember I hold the trump card—have held it all along. By Heaven, I pro.mised madame, who seems to have taken a great fancy to you, that I would not stain my hands with your blood. But I'll take other and surer means to settle our account." Springing from the bed, lie busied himself about the room. Everything he could find lie carefully piled against the bed. Seizing an axe, he rapidly tore down the waistcoting and reduced the scanty furniture to matchwood. Crossing over to a cupboard, he took from it a large can, and commenced splashing its contents liberally over everything. With a thrill of horror, Dornton recognised the pungent smell of paraffin. Brave man though lie was, the knowledge of the fate in store for him made him feel sick with dread. It was his funeral pyre that Redgrave was so carefully constructing. The man meant to fire the house and leave him to be roasted alive. "Xow, I think all is ready." Redgrave looked round on his work with a smile of fiendish satisfaction. "Stay, I'll make doubly sure." He left the room, to return in a few seconds with a small keg, the top of which he forced off. "Gunpowder,'' lie said, turning with an affable simle to the bed. With a few quick movements he cleared a space in the centre of the pyre, and placed the keg within it, carefully rearranging the debris. Seizing the candle, he buried it in the powder, till only half of it remained above the explosive. "The tipie has now come for us to part," he said, turning to Dornton. "By the way, can I take any message from you to the fair Kitty?" No answer Redgrave shrugged his shoulders and crossed to the door. "Well, as you wish. I'm sorry I cann r-t tiinx I J-.11 'ri*v ypU- .in V (jpJW*

friend; hut. as you see. only hail" the '■audie will burn before 1 i;<■ povdt>r i". reached. It wili perhaps last an hour and a-halr. Oh, it is a good article— I never employ cheap methods. Now, I llili-t go. 1 ii.ive iiuj.ai'i.'int business to attend to in t!:e next house." fie approached the bed once more. "An hour and 11 -half at the most, Mil or-; Dornton. As the minutes ."li.p swiftly by, think of your failure—my success. Think of the woman you love struggling in my arms, crying out her lover's name —calling for the help a dead man cannot give." Another second and Dornton wan alone. Alone! with barely an hour and a-half to live. Alone! with the thought that through his folly and ill-timed chivalry his country was sacrificed. Alone! with the knowledge that Redgrave must surely keep his word, and that the woman he loved was doomed to a fate compared with which his was kindness. Strong, brave though he was, a sob broke from him as ,he thought of it, and he struggled madly to free himself. Again and again he shouted for help; his only reply was a mocking echo. Already the greater part of the candle had burned away, lie tried to prav, buf the longneglected, almost forgotten words, froze on his lips, and in his heart of hearts lie felt deserted bv God and man.

Attain he struggled fiercely, cursing ill his impotent fury, when suddenlyjust as the flickering flame was almost 011 tile surface of the powder, a blast of cold air swept through the room. The flame of the candle struggled vainly for life, and then died out. He was aware of a strong light shining on his face, of a knife cutting quickly through the ropts that held him; he felt himself raised, a flask was held to his lips, and, as in a dream, lie heard the votae of the woman who had decoyed him say: "Drink this, and then go quickly! For the present you are safe." Painfully, and only halt comprehending, Dorntou struggled to his feet, turning lo her suspiciouly. Was this some fresh trap—some new scheme of devilish cruelty invented by the master mind to prolong his agony. "Why do you—you—the cause of mv capture —offer to help me now?" "Hush! When you get back to safety go to your sweetheart and tell her that a woman betrayed her trust and saved you, for the sake of the memory of her own shattered love." "You know ?" "Oil, yes, woman-like, I was curious. I listened outside, and heaYd him taunt you with his intention —wjtli the knowledge that you were powerless lo save your sweetheart from him. Then it was that I determined to save you, even if he killed me for doing so." Seizing Ins hand, she led him quickly from the room and down the creaking stair. At the bottom she turned sharply to the right and conducted him to a door at the back of the house. Opening it, she pointed the way into a spacious yard, surrounded by a highway. '"Climb the wall. Once in the street beyond, you will eaily find your way." "But what of you?" he asked. "I stay here." "But that would be madness. He may suspect you, and then——" "It matters little." She smiled with weary sadness. "You see, he is my husband, and even years of cruelty and neglect have not killed the love I swore to bear him. Good-bye!" She held out her hand, hesitatingly. With a quick movement he stooped and kissed it. "Good-bye, and God bless you." Another second and she was gone. He could hear her retreating footsteps; then they died away, and he was alone in the yard, scarcely able to see a foot in front of him; bruised, aching in every limb—hut free. Free! But the dispatches which meant so much were in the hands of the enemy. At all cost he must recover them, but how? The ne.vt house—important busines, Redgrave had said. Eagerly Dornton gazed around him. The house on the left was in utter darkness; that on the right seemed to be in the same state of gloom, but on looking intently at it, he thought ho perceived a thin ray of light, as though the shutters or curtains had been carelessly closed. Beneath the window hung a narrow iron balcony. If he could only get on that, the rest might he easy. Every moment was precious. Hastily taking stock of his surroundings once more, he perceived a small outhouse erected in the further angle of the walls. From the top of the wall to the balcony was but a few feet, or so it seemed—an easy jump for an agile man. His mind once made up, Dornton lost no time in searching for means to scale the wall. Against the outhouse stood a ladder, old and rickety, but good enough for Dornton's purpose. In a moment he stood 011 the wall in the shelter of (lie balcony. Here disappointment iigain awaited him, for bis calculation was wrong, and the balcony was several feet above his head. There was nothing else for it, and with a muttered prayer, he mustered all his strength and sprang upwards. His fingers touched and closed on the edge of the. frail platform. With a supreme effort he pulled himself up and over the rail, which ,rotten with age and neglect, threatened every moment to give way and hurl him into the paved yard below. Struggling to his feet, he placed his eye to the aperture whence the light proceeded, and looked eagerly into the room. The apartment was well, almost sumptuously, furnished. At an open escritoire sat Redgrave, writing. The mind of the watcher was quickly made up—he must act now or never! The silence of the night was broken by Jie tinkling crash of broken glass and the startled cry of Redgracc, as lie sprang lo his feet. Recognising the man whom he thought safely disposed of for all time, he made a quick dive for a revolver 011 the desk, but Dornton was ready for him, and before the scoundrel's fingers could close on the weapon, with a straight blow from the shoulder he had knocked him down.

11l a trice Redgrave was on his foot again, his face livid with fear and passion. lie knew the game was up, but whatever happened he meant to fight to a finish. With the quick, treacherous spring of the panther, lie grappled with his foe. Dornton expected this, and was again ready, but his late sufferings and the privations he had undergone had weakened him. With a cry of triumph Redgrave's fingers were at his throat, and Dornton 'ell that lie was being slowly strangled. Suddenly the memory of an old wrestling trick flashed across his mind. With an almost superhuman ell'ort he threw his enemy oil' nnd struggled to his feet. Then, as Redgrave rose and sprang towards him, lie seized the revolver and fired, onee—twice. With a gasping cry 'the spy spun on his heel and fell. Cautiously Dornton, approached him, but he lay quite still, his glazing eyes staring up at the blackened ceiling. Dornton staggered against the desk, clutching at it for support. The reaction had set in, and a horrible feeling of nausea came over him. But it [ iw.* 'ZO fnl' WeuVn-iM- ujijlmu

himself together he commenced a hurried though minute search for the dispatch. With feverish 1 haste he hunted through the pigeon-holes in the desk, but without success. Already the household, alarmed by the pistol-shots, was in an uproar. He could hear men's voices shouting hoarse enquiries, and the clatter of their heavily-sliod feet as they streamed up the stairs. Frantically he. searched, tearing upon drawers and boxes, sick at the thought that his search had been in vain. Pausing for a second to look round the room in the hope that some hiding-place might meet his eye, lie uttered a cry of joy, for, lying on the floor, by the body of the dead man, was the missing dispatch. It must have been knocked off llie desk or fallen frpm Redgrave's pocket in the struggle.

The dispatch once more safely in his keeping, he began to think of his own chance of escape before the men now battering .at the door could force an entrance. He sprang out on to the balcony, in the hope of being able to make his escape by the way he had come; but lies aw the hopelessness of the idea at once, for the friendly wall was only faintly visible in the blackness below, and in his exhausted state the risk of missing it was too great. Even as he hesitated, the noise of splintering woodwork told him that the door was going. Quick as thought he switched the light off, and, crouching againt the wall, waited. "Sir, what is wrong?" Then silence, as they waited for the reply that the spy's cold lips would never frame.

Doruton raised himself slowly as lie heard the door crash in, followed by a whjspered council, and the sharp crackle of a match. The light flared up, but before they realised what had happened he had sprung past them, and was tearing down the stairs, all his remaining strength gathered together in this last burst for liberty. Behind him he could hear their wild cries of grief and rage as they found Redgrave's body. Then, with an ugly rush, they came leaping down the stairs in hot pursuit. Thank God, Dornton had reached the, ground floor in safety. Ahead of him lie coukl see the shimmering of dim light that told him the path to freedom was clear. For a second he stood sharply defined in the doorway. There was a sharp report from the darkness behind him, and a bullet ploughed its way through his shoulder. He reeled; then, pulling himself together, ran with staggering footsteps up the narrow street. Gaining strength as the noise of pursuit grew less, he doubled in the fabyrinth of narrow alleys, and still ran on. At last the hoarse cries and noise of pursuing grew fainter, and then died away altogether. With a groan ho sank exhausted in the shadow of a friendly doorway. Forty-eight hours later a ragged man, his eyes wild with fever, entered (lie British camp, and, on being challenged, demanded to be taken immediately into the presence of the general.

How England's irregular army marched to the relief of the capital, and how on Christmas Day they entered the city, having totally defeated the besieging army, is fully detailed in the histories of the war. But how an unknown man, raging with fever in a base hospital, was visited by a white-haired old gentleman who talked till the color returned to the wasted cheek and the tremulous mouth grew firm again, and how a beautiful girl came, shortly after his departure, and, placing her hand in that of the patient, bent and kissed him on the lips, to the surprise of the orderly, who had recognised the visitors, -.they sav nothing