"THE WEB."

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXX, Issue 8548, 4 October 1907, Page 2

"THE WEB."

CHAPTER lll.—Continued

"Wei 1 , old chap, you seem to have got out of that by the skin of youi teeth." • v , Jack Strangways started as this easy comment, jerked cut in a tone lacking all real sympathy, grated on his far. He turned slowly to the speaker, and for the first time in his life £* feeling of repugnance stole over him at the sight of his old boon companion. "Glad to have done what 1 couicl for you. old fellow, but I must say this part of London rather gets on one's nerves. I suppose this is where the old Johnnies make their monev, but it must be a deucedly unpleasant occupation, all the same. What are you going to do with yourself now? Go abroad? Pig it in the colonies, shoot lions and elephants, or something of that sort till the thing has blown over? I suppose these things are forgotten in time, though it must make one feel a trifle awkward, don't you know." Lord Kildwick carefully buttoned his gloves, of the daintiest grey shade. He paused a moment to look with a wry face at a speck of Old Bailey dust that disfigured one of the finger tips, and then looked down at his patent leather boots, one of which had sustained a scratch from the corner of one of the benches where witnessed sat after they had ' given their evidence. He hesitated and tapped his toe nervously with the end of his gold-mounted cane. "Er—er—•l—well, there is no r3ason why we shouldn't have a bit of dinner together at the —CI—I mean at a quiet little restaurant. Let' 3 take a hansom there." Jack smiled, in,, spite of his hopeless gloom. He knew exactly what was passing in the other's mind. There was an element of chivalry in it, after all. The fellow did not want to desett him entirely, but—yes, there was a but, a hideous "but" that was slowly presenting itself with all its merciless force as he stood there in the middle of that rushing stream of humanity. "No thanks," he said shortly, and then, feeling that he ought to say something more, he added, "it's very good of you to have come here to-day." "Oh, don't mention it," said Lord Kildwick' automatically. I suppose I shall have a rough quarter of an hour with the governor, and what's worse, a tearful lecture from the mater, when they read about it in the bally newspapers. I must confess when the Crown prosecutor questioned me it did dawn upon me that we went the pace rather, that night." "Now, then, gentlemen, pas." along, please." The stream of city people hurrying along to get their 'buses and trains to the suburbs was being impeded by this miniature obstruction of two human frames, and the constable knew that murmuirs about people sticking there in the middle of the pavement would soon be forthcoming from the inconvenienced ratepayers if he allowed them to continue talking much longer. 1 "Quite sure ypu won't come?" said Lord Kildwick, holding out his hand with a gesture that clearly implied that he hoped for a negative reply, and holding up his cane to a passing hansom. Jack shook his head and formally ' pressed the gloved hand offered tti him. Lord Kildwick,' carefully gathering the skirt of his frock coat about him so that it did not graze . the wheel of the hansom, turned a look- of genuine pity on him as he drove off, and Staingways, wheeling to the right, merely because he had to turn somewhtere, found himself wandpring aimlessly towards Ludgate. A carriage with servants in powdered hair and resplendent liveries passed him, unlike the plain bu i lesslike, useful broughams which were taking city men to their homes. Sitting- with his back to tfie horses was a wellknown man connected with one of the great departments of State. In court, he had been accommodated with a seat on the Bench, during the interval occupied by the jury in arriving at the verdict. He was pleasantly talking over the arrangements for a . forthcoming Royal function with the Sheriffs and' Lord Mayor. t As the carriage passed the great man's eye casually lighted on Jack Strangways, and he whispered something to the two ladies on the opposite seat. Both of them turned at once, the one surveying the pedestrian with <languid curiosity through the' pince-nez' on the top of her parasol handle, and the other—"Good Heavens, that face again!" The released man stood still, amid the whirl of laughing and chattering clerks and merchants. The girl stared at him for but a moment, yet in that moment his hungry eyes l'easted on her look of pity without

contempt, of commiseration without scorn. His thirsty soul drank in the beauty, the tenderness,, and the inspiration of a \ ...ion, and the draught seemed to give I,lm—lonely wretch that he was—one rapturous instant of a life where sunshine was not banished, and where hope was not a disordered dream. One instant only. The carriage swept by. An enthusiastic young man in a dull silk hat and a dark jacket suit, ran against him in hi& eagerness as lie explained to a girl in a plain black dress and a sailor hat, who tripped along, waving her little lunch satchel as though it were the key to everlasting happiness, how the governor had given him a rise in salary, and put hirfi in charge of a department. "Sorry," said the budding Lord Major with a casual nod at Strangways, who mechanically lifted his

By PAUL URQTXHART.

[Published By Special Arrangement.} [A.ll Eights Reserved.]

hat as ho returned the apology. The girl with the satchel turned her flushed baby face towards him with a smile and a nod, and then the two rushed on again discussing cottages in the suburbs and the relative cost of tram fares and cheap season tickets. For them the few shillings salary evolved out of the calculating generosity of a satisfied employer meant wedding bells. For him, a sudden accession to a million pounds meant—He shuddered as he dar£d to think what it meant. The contempt *of his fellow men, and suspicion of the world, loss of friends, a life of solitary sorrow and vain regret. He was a man who loved the society of his fellowmen. As an only child he had wept in the nursery for other children to play with, as a boy at school he pined when for any reason he was detached from his schoolmates. His insatiable desire for company had led him into all his scrapes at the 'Varsity; he must have companionship, he must hear the voices of his fellow-creatures, join in the laughter of groups of friends, have common interests with others and mutual aids to pleasure. As the son of a wealthy man, belonging to a family which, though his branch of it had made mgney in trade, was of the older.' aristocracy, he had been welcome in as many places as he could find time to present himself during the brief preiod of mai.hood that he had already lived. And now the embarrassment of Lord Kildwick told him, if telling were needed, that henceforth the ways of cultured people were not his ways. He saw himself the Prince Bountiful of boon companions who would fawn upon him for his money —the associate, perchance, in the bypaths of the men who might tolerate him for his wealth or condole with him on his luck, but who, like Lord Kildwick, would draw the line. .In the tavern and not in the drawingj room must he seek the society of men | who would recognise him in the one but avoid him in the other. I These thoughts came flashing | through his hazy brain as he rneanj dered aimlessly along, and always hovering there was the one enobling reflection of the face he had seen upon the night of his downfall and again to-day, the day which sent him forth to battle against the hard justice of the world. If he could live for her, as the man in the dull silk hat had lived for his ideal. If he could only believe she thought well of him. He clenched his hands till the nails bit his palms, and clenched his teeth with a sudden determination. Some day she must know him; she knew him now, that meddlesome man in the carriage had pointed him out to her. He would not drift, drift into the ranks of society's outlaws. He would hold up his head at least as high or not lower than it was at present. Perhaps— Heavens, why had he not thought of that before? Events had rushed so quickly, the interviews with the solicitor in the gaol, the tone and method by which his case had been conducted had all pointed to but one aim—tdf secure his acquittal, to point out the weakness of the circumstantial evidence against him, to secure for him "the benefit of the doubt." Convinced' that he was the man, the prosecution had centred all their efforts on connecting him with the crime, the main and only business of the defence was to prevent their securing a verdict from twelve jurymen against him. Was nobody looking for the right man? Had he nothing to live for? There was one way, and one way only of saving himself from the loathing with which, in spite of that pitying glance, she must feel for a parricide. He must find the man who killed his father. The more he pondered over h's misson, the faster he walked. Unconsciously Jack Strangways stepped out into a swinging stride like o*;her men. During the past few weeks he had been a man in a dream, a lifeless, purposeless, piece of human wreckage drifting wheresoever the I tide took him. Gradually his pale | handsome face its vacant look, and a suspicion of the old determination that had made % his father a ! prince of commerce displayed itself about the corners of his well-shapen mouth. Instead of having to get out of other people's way he bustled ahead with an energy that forced loiterers-to step aside for him. Suddenly, he brought himself to a standstill anu as he did so a tall cadaverous-looking man who had walked behind him from the Courts involuntarily brushed against him. In the mutual apologies the man, who was evidently a person of foreign manners, lifted his hat, and Jack, without knowing exactly why, had his attention rivetted on a scar on his forehead which a slight gust of wind that blew the forelock of his long iron grey hair apart, disclosed. The face he did not notice much, and the incident was just passing out of | his mind when a friend had tapped 1 him on the shoulder. I (To be Continued).