For Her Sister's Sake; OR, THE LAVENDEN SECRET.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXIX, Issue 8347, 1 February 1907, Page 2

For Her Sister's Sake; OR, THE LAVENDEN SECRET.

By R. Norman Silver, thor ofZ"A double "A Daughter of Mystery," "Held Apart," "The Golden Dwarf," etc.

"For Her Sister's Sake " was commenced on December 20th.]

CHAPTER XXl.—Continued. ] "James Garth," she said; "but it - was James Garside he called himself . when he came back from Australia." The cab-driver uttered a suppressed , exclamation. "James Garth!" he exclaimed; "Garside—you—you " Winnie shrank from his tone. "Yes," she said; "I went to try and trick him out of the certficate, and I took a revolver that was in v the library of Lavenden House. I did get the certificate, and he tried to get it from me again, and, somehow, the revolver went off. It grazed his forehead and broke a mirror, and I nearly fainted. He struggled to get the revolver from me, and then I did faint and—and " "And " said the cab-driver relentlessly. "And when I came to, sobbed Winnie, "he was lying dead at my feet; I had shot him, somehow, right through the head." She covered her face and sobbed. Peter Crimple stood lost in thought and hidden by the darkness. At last he roused. "I—l knew Jim Garth," said the cab-driver briefly, ''and he was a hound, a low, treacherous, selfish cur. He is better dead." Again he lapsed into thought, and again he roused himself. "We shall need 'Tilda," he observed, "but that needn't worry you. She's true blue, is Tilda. Let me steer you out of here." He guided her out of the stable and across the yard, and, entering the house, ushered her into the kictchen beyond. , Bar© and large as it was, it was tfarm and sheltered and Winifred Lavenden was (shivering. At the moment it was unoccupied. Crimple pulled up the wooden shutters of the window and went to lock the yard door. Then he stepped to the stairs whistled softly. Matilda Crimple's and quick footfall sounded on them as she ran down. Her father drew her into the kitchen, and she gazed in astonishment at its occupant. Winifred Lavenden had taken off her hat and unfastened her 'long walking-coat, and the light of the table-lamp shone on her white throat and shoulders. Tilda uttered a low cry, * half of admiration, half of amazement. . "Oh! m,iss," she exclaimed, "what has brought you here at this time of night?" Crimple put a chair fcr his visitor to sit down. Winnie sank into it and shivered. The neighbourhood of the fire reminded her that she was very, very cold. "Tilda," remarked the cab-driver, "do you know why this lady is here'?' Tilda shook her head. "No dad," she replied. Her father looked from her to the figure in the wooden kitchen chair. "Well," he said, "she is here because she is a friend of Si! David Garth's and because she doesn't want to answer the police some very awkward questions. I've told her that you and I will help her to cheat the law." ' "ftSP Matilda Crimple's eyes grew round and big. H "My goodness!" she™ejaculated, "her ladvship and Miss Lavenden friends of David's. why j they took such an interest in Boysie. And we never guessed! But what do the police want with her?" The cab-driver checked her. "-Tilda," he said, "there's some questions it doesn't do any good to ask or answer. Is Mr Ingram in yet?" "No, dad," was the response; "he went out to sit an hour with one of Nurse' May's cases. But he should be back soon now." Winnie started up. "Don't—don't let anyone but yourselves know that I ani here," she begged distressfuly. Peter Crimple motioned to her reassuringly. ; "I'm not going to do that, my lass," he said, "only while the parson is out I want to stow where you'll be as safe as | heart could wish. Then if been tracked we can stand a police visit without giving the show away." He took up the lamp. ' "Run and put the catch on the frontdoor, Tilda," he added, "so if Mr Ingram tries to come in with his key he won't be able, and you can say it had slipped accidentally." i Tilda ran down the passage, and Crimple held the lamp for Winnie to follow. Then the three mounted the stairs together. At the head of the staircase the cab-driver opened a door and strode into a small sitting-room. Beside the fireplace there was a tall cupboard. He flung the heavy, door wide. Within was an ample recess, with books and a shelf. The cab-driver gave his daughter the lamp, and, crouching down in the recess, pulled up a board in the floor. Winnie heard the sound of a shooting bolt, and Peter Crimple set his shoulder to the back of the recess. It slid, panel-fashion, leaving an aperture., He went through. Tilda carried the lamp after him and motioned to Winnie to enter. Surprised, yet vaguely, interested, 1 Winnie did so. She found herself in a cramped kind of loft, with a lean-to roof and no window. A work-bench with a few small tools, such as are used by jewellers, and a jeweller's lens Jupon it, stood at one side. Underfoot were open rafters, partically crossed by a nailed platform of planks. Above were the bearing beams of a slate roof screened, evidently for the sake of warmth, with rough, thick felt. Crimple glanced around the room, then he went and lifted a sheet of

>aper that stood on the bench. The ight of the lamp flashed back from a •ow of flat dishes like pin-trays. They were full of unset gems, red ind green and blue and dazzling white/ „ ~ ~ , "My strong room," said Jriver, with a curious smile, "and the last place in the world I want the police to come. So you are sate here, my lass, so far as I am concerned." _.., He covered up the trays. Tilda had turned away sharply; Crimple looked at her and shrugged his shoulders. "Tilda don't like my work, he said "yet the helped me to fix up the place. We're on top of a builtout billiard-room that was added to the house at one time. I just knocked through the cupboard and made a sliding panel. It's been a bit awkward to get at since the parson came, but it's all the safer for that. Who would dream at the back of a parson's study?"

He laughed grimly. "A nice watch-dog to guard my strong room," said Peter Crimple, "and now he'll have all the more to guard." The cab-driver lit a candle that stood on the bench. . "Tilda will fit up the place f«r yoiia bit," he added, "and you can lie low until the hue and cry's over. He stopped abruptly and listened. Far off there was a sharp, metallic sound—the sound of a key in the loCk ' ; -J T> 4. "That's Mr Ingram," said Peter Crimple, and he sprang toward the opening by which they had entered. Tilda imitated his example. Winnie saw the light of the panel close, and the light of the lamp disappear. She was alone, alone with the guttering candle, Peter Crimple's ill gotten gems, and her own thoughts. She looked at her watch; it was one o'clock in the morning. She sat down on a low, flat packing-case. What were they doing at Lavenden House? Had the detective asked for her, or had she been wrong in her fear.s? In any case, Merivale would have sought for her in vain; soon Julia must learn of her disappear--8.T1C6 * What would be the result of her flight? She could not think coherently enough to consider the question. She only knew that she had taken the black shadow that hung over her out of her sister's life, that she had placed half London between her and those piercing blue eyes of Mr Quail, those evil, dark ones of | George Merivale. | Pondering confusedly her ne|d drooped, and she fell asleep, in spite of her comfortless position. 5 When she awoke, it was with a start. The candle had burned low in its stick, and Matilda stood by fitting -another to the socket. And Winnie perceived that she herself was wrapped about with a big, and padded counterpane and propped up with pillows. Tilda turned and saw that she had stirred. . "Oh! miss," she said, "I have brought you some supper, and I was wondering if I should waken you to have it. Mr Ingram's gone to bed, and father says you're not to worry. He doesn't think you've been tracked, and if you have been he says you're quite safe." • She lifted forward a big tray that she had placed on the benchit contained a cup, a little brown teapot, and the materials for a simple meal. ' "There, miss," she remarked, do eatusomething. And as soon as Milligram goes out in the morning 111 bring you some breakfast." y The girl paused, looking at Winnie. "Dad said I mustn't stop," she observed, "or ask you any questions. But, oh v ! I wish I could do something for you, miss." Winnie rose unsteadily. "Thank you, Tilda," she replied; "but you can't—nobody can. Thank you very much, all the same." Tilda sighed deeply. "Good night, miss," she said, "and do, please, eat some supper." She hesitated momentarily and then went away, closing the panel behind her. Once more Winnie was left alone—alone with the night and her own thoughts. (To be Continued). i ! , >- .——— :