"THE WEB."

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXX, Issue 8556, 15 October 1907, Page 2

"THE WEB."

CHAPTER Vlll.—Continued. As Beeton came towards him he ( Raw also that one arm hung useless at ] h''s side. , "Where's the durned doctorr he « .said, reeling against Strangwnys like a diur.keu man, and speaking in a high staccato tone of voice. "Hell, fetch him at once. Can't you hear. I'll buy him. l'H buy all the durned doctors in the place. She ain't going to die, I tell you. I'll give a million . dollars to the man that fetches the ( doctor," His voice was trailing off into a sob. "Alice, honey, you're not going to die!" He staggered, attempted to kneel down by the girl's side, and would have fallen had not Strangways caught him in his arms. One of the men who had helped to drag the girl irom the overturned saloon, helped Strangways to prop him up against a railing. "For twenty minutes," he said, "that man's been in there with his broken a™, and while he was in there he must have wrapped the girl ■up to prevent her getting suffocated, never making a fuss or acting silly, and when he comes out and she is quite safe he acts like a lunatic. Funny stuff heroes are made of. isn't it, sir?" A gang of men with more doctors had arrived from Skipton by tliis time, and having secured the services of one of these for Betton and the American lady, Strangways made his wav into the' steep village street. He' was well iknown in the place, which was only some three miles from "The Gappe." But the postmaster did not a-ecognise -him as he stumbled into the little shop which did duty for the ,post and telegraph office. He scribbled out a telegram to his man who was waiting at Skipton station to come at once to Connonley, and despatched a horseman to his housekeeper at "The Gappe" to send down the large motor waggonette. An idea had struck him. Lady Violet and iher.party would have to spend the night somewhere. He would ask them to accept the hospitality of "The Gappe," and in the hope that they would do so he had ordered sufficient conveyances to carrv them to his house. Having despatched these messages he hurried back to the station. He found Miss Elders and Lady Violet in the ilittie wooden shelter trying to restrain the hysterical outburst of the Duchess, who had completely broken down. As Strangways approached them he felt the colour, rise to his cheeks, and the wild hope in his heart almost made him stutter as he spoke, "My name is Strangways, madam," he said to Lady Violet. "1 live iirfche neighbourhood a:id I shall be gJad to ,place my house at your disposal, as I am afraid you will find little accommodation in the village. And to :procesd further tonight by train will be impossible." Lady Violet turned to her mother. "Mother," this gentleman, Mr Strangways," she: said, "has been so kind "as to offer us the hospitality of his house for the night." The Duchess looked at Strangways with the glance of a half delirious person. ■"Let him take us away from this! Let him take us away!" she cried. "This awful shock has quite upset my mother," said Lady Violet turning to Strangways. "If you would be so kind as to let us take advantage of your proposal, we shall be only too grateful. My mother is the Duchess of Knaresborough, and this is my friend, Miss Elders. I believe,'" she added, looking curiously at Strangways, "we have to thank you for having saved our lives. A man told me that you rescued us from that burning carriage at great risk of your own^life.'" Strangways flushed crimson. "I only did what anybody else would have done," he said hurriedly, though the thanks and the way in which she expressed her gratitude were like a cup of water to a thirsty man in the desert. "I have sent for the necessary conveyances," he went on, "but I am afraid they cannot be here for twenty minutes at the most. If you will allow me I will take you over to a house in the village away from this fearful scene." Lady Violet and Miss Elders rose, and with the aid of Strangways steered the stumbling footsteps of the Duchess across the .rails and into the village street. Strangways had no difficulty in finding a house. The IcjncUy Yorkshire villagers were only too pleased to be of any service to survivors of the awful disaster. Having seen them safely settled, he was turning to go away when Lady Violet asked him if he would mind making inquiries about an American friend of theirs, a Mr Beeton who had been on the train." "Both he and his friend were quite safe when I left them," replied Strangways, and he related the escape of the millionaire and the girl. "But I will ..:•> and see if they have quite recovered." When he got lu '.he piatform again he found , the American kneeling by the side of the girl who had not yet recovered from the shock. Just as he approached she opened her eye?, stared wildly round for a moment, then catching sight of Beeton's familiar face, smiled weakly at him. Strangways & touched the man on the shoulder. "If you will allow me, sir, I shall be very glad to put you up until you and the lady have recovered. I live three miles from here and in.y cars ought to be here shortly. My name is Strangways." Ah he uU/;red these last words the frit 1 iiuddonly looked at him with a ti.-iiKf, frightened look, tried to t\)<uk, find th'.'ii with a little gasp iYslI buck into J tee to i'a arms, once m<>i'j tncwtfciou-i.

&y PAUL URQUHART.

[Published By Special Abbangement.] [All Eights Reserved.]

"I take your suggestion very kindly, sir," said Beeton. "I shall be only too glad to accept your invitation on behalf of this lady, Miss Rentoul, and myself. The sooner wc get away from this little hell I reckon it will be better for her."

CHAPTER IX. When Strangways had worked his way back to the village street he found that the automobiles had already arrived. Old John, formerly coachman, now, thanks to the late Mr Strangways' special tuition, chieff chauffeur, welcomed his young master with evident pleasure. He had always had a warm affection for the young master since the latter could almost crawl, and when the news of o'd Mr Strangways' death had set the gossip and scandal going at "The Gappe," among the servants, he had stoutly maintained without a shadow of evidence to support his conclusion that "his lad" as he had always familiarly called the son ar.d heir, was absolutely innocent. "I'm glad to see you back, Master John," he said, "and thank God you're safe." Then, unable to restrain his long pent-up emotion, "I knew you'd never done it, Master , Jolin, to the poor old master. Thou was always too good a lad." Old John's words awoke a thorough recollection in Strangways' mind. All his childhood's days came back to him pleasant, far-off memories in which old John figured largely, first as his hero, his beau ideal of a man who could manage his pony. Trick, like no other human being could possibly have managed him. who kne"' everything about horses and was consequently a perfect paladin among men, secondly as his devoted slave who followed him about everywhere, worshipping the very ground on which he trod and only happy when hs could serve him. He had thought during those terrible weeks in London that all the world was against him, that everybody held him guilty of his father's murder. But here was his old faithful friend whom he had forgotten, "who had always stoutly maintained his innocence, not from deductions arrived at from a careful perusal of the facts of the case, but merely from the consideration of the fact that the accused was the young master whom he had known from his boyhood. He held out his hand to the old man, and with ill-suppressed emotion said simply, as the other clasped it: "Thank you, John." The chauffeur on the motor-wag-gonette that had come from "The Gappe" was a gloomy sardoniclooking man called James Connell, whom old Strangways had brought back with him from America. "How do you do, James," Strangways said as the man touched his hat. "I have had a narrow shave of it this time." "It's a judgment, sir! It's a judgment from on High!" Connell retorted, a sudden blaze of excitement illuminating his dark eyes. "It's none the less a fact, James," replied Strangways grimly, "that while I have been saved several of my fellow-creatures, far better deserving of life than myself, are lying there among the wreckage mangled and mutilated beyond recognition." As he was turning away, Beeton arrived, still in his shirt sleeves, followed by two men carrying Miss Rentoul. Strangways helped to place her in the waggonette, and then, having summoned the Duchess and her party, he saw them all safely seated. - By this time Miss Rentoul had once more regained consciousness and would have sat up had not Beeton gently but firmly insisted on her lying down. Strangways hurried back to the platform, and having exacted a promise from the local doctor to visit "The Gappe" as soon as his gruesome work at the station was 1 completed, he returned and the cars got under weigh. It was after nine and the moon had ' already risen when the little procession winding up among the hills finally reached "The Gappe." It was a strange home-coming for Strangways. When he had last been at home his 1 father had been there; chat was scarcely six months ago, and in that time the old millionaire master of "The Gappe" had been struck down mysteriously, his heir, who had stood 1 his trial for his murder, now returned to the seat of his ancestors accompanied by five persons who had been brought into hi 3 life through one of the most terrible railway catastrophes of modern times. With the assistance of the housekeeper the ladies of the party were got comfortably to bed, Strangways himself seeing that the young molasses king who wanted to wait up to hear the doctor's report of Miss Rentoul was safely between the sheets. (To be Continued.)