"THE WAR."

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXX, Issue 8558, 18 October 1907, Page 2

"THE WAR."

[All Bights Beseryed.]

—Continued.

CHAPTER X. Strangways let this extraordinary missive fall on the ground and impatientlv tors open the envelope addressed 'to himself. Except that the envelou* bore his name tlicie was no. indication from the enclosure to show that it was intended for himself, it was brief and very much to the point — . . "The end of the scofler is sure! JAMES CONNELLY' Strangways laughed as he read it. "I think it's just as well he s left, John," he said. "This Mosaic nonsense has turned his head. Tins letter is intended as a reproof for what 1 said to him about the Patriarch yesterday." j _ , . He handed the letter to John to read, who, with much difficulty finding his spectacles adjusted them onhisnose and spelt over the words slowly. ~ "Ah, the man's fair mad, he said, when this laborious feat had been triumphantly executed. "1 never did hold with these fancy religions. When he talked to me of Moses Master John, begging your pardon, 1 always told him that most of the people who believed in that sort of, stuic were in lunatic asylums, and it was a pity'.he rest weren't locked rp in the same way, and their Moseses and Patriarchs put in prison." "Well, John, you had better see that his things are sent after him, and get another man to take his place as soon as possible." Strangways was turning away when old John again stopped him. "Bill Emmett of the Intake Farm, Master John, having heard you'd returned, sent down word to ask if you'd go and sea him. He were a great'friend of your father's and the old man ain't long for this world. | "All right, John, I will go up after dinner, tell him." When he returned to the bilnardroom Lady Violet was seated in one of the old-fashioned saddle-back armchairs reading the paper. As she made no signs of wishing to return to the billiard-table, Strangways drew up a chair near her, well content to talk or to ait silent, so long as he might feel her near him. "Mr Strangways, I'm going to ask you a question which I'm afraid you'll think rather curious, especially as the person to whom it refers is one of your guests. Do you know anything about Miss JRentoul?" "I had never seen her before I saw her in the train with Mr.Beeton. I gathered,however, from some conversation which I was forced to overhoar that Mr Beeton had followed her from New York and succeeded in tracing her to the ill-fated train in which we travelled. But who she is or what she is I know no more than you." "Of course, I know American girls." went on Lady Violet, ,evidently, following her own tram of thought, "do travel about by themselves. But she doesn't seem to be o /er here for any of those particular purrjoscs for which American girls come over to Europe. She doesn't I seem to want to take away a bit of i Wca'.minster Abbey in her trunk, and her interest in cathedrals generally is most deplorable for an American traveller. I have tried to talk to her, but she's so silent. Esther gets on with her very well and der dares that she is what she calls 'a I good sort.' But then Esther would say that of almost anybody." "VVhy don't you ask Mr Beeton?" Strangways suggested. "I did ask him. All he would say was that she was a lady friend of his who had coma over to England on business. Tasked him if she travelled in molasses for him, but he got so angry that I didn't like to broach the subject again. By the way, Mr Strangways, don't you know my cousin Kildwick?" "1 did know him," Strangways replied in hesitating confusion. "We were friends at Cambridge. But the events of the past few months have put a strain upon the relations between my friends and myself which few friendships can bear." He spoke bitterly. And then with a sudden rush of emotion he bluntly asked the question which, while it remained unanswered, racked s his feelings by clay and night. "Do you think I murdered my father?" She looked up quickly at him, her clear blue eyes fixed upon his. "No, Mr Strangways, I do not." A great load seemed to have been lifted off his mind. A supreme joy tingled in his veins. "Thank God for that." ho half muttered. "You don't know what it moans to me to hear you say that. Everybody has pointed the finger of distrust and suspicion at me. I had .rver dared to ask the question before."

What more lie might have said was interrupted by the breezy entrance (/f Miss FJders, who insisted upon a game of billiards. For the ; M of that clay Strangways was ..''nost the gay-hearted fellow he ha., een a few months be--fore. At dinner he kept the table in good spirits; even JJeeton, who was in the depths of despair. When dinner wan finished lie excused himself to his guesls, and started out to pay his visit to intake Farm. A few minutes after he had left the house Miss Ret.toul disappeared fi-on/the drawing-room, in an agony of jealousy and suspicion Bceton saw her go. Again he tried to carry on a coherent conversation with the Duchess and Lady Vk let. Had she gone after him? "lie was racked with ail the tortuous doubts of an ardei t lover. For two minutes he bore the strain, and then, unable to stand the tension of doubt any longer, he made «n excuse of having to answersome

By PAUL URQUHART.

[Published By'sSpecial Abpangement.j

letters and hurried out into the hall. He had not been stationed theie more than a few seconds when Miss Rentoul appeared, dressed for gom<? out. She started involuntarily an she saw him, and then, without a -,vunl, swept past him towards the door. With a quick movement ha pot in frontoi her, standing between her and the door. "Will you allow me to pass, please." she said haughtily. _ "Where are you going to?" he retorted bluntly. "I am not responsible to you lor mv movements." ""That's not an answer, he re-

plied. ~ "Will you let me pass, please. She made a movement to grasp the handle. In an uncontrollable lit of passion he forestalled her, and Hung the door open himself. "You are going to a tryst with that man," he saii hoarsely. She made a movement to go out when he had opened the door. At his words she stopped and looked him full in the face. "You don't understand. You don t know what you are saying," she said confusedly. I "I know," he said passionately, "that since you come to this house you have had no look except for JnhnM I Strangways, no word except for John I Strangways." "You don't understand," she said. He did not notice the tone/of feel • ing in her voice or the look of reproach in her eyes. "Don't understand," he repeated with a bitter laugh. "This is the price all men pay for their worship of a woman. Go to your lover of a few days," and he held the door wider open for her to pass. His harsh words whipped the blood into her cheeks. "You can comfort yourself with your Lady Violet," she said coldiy as she passed out into the moonlit night. He watched her retreating figure until it was lost in a bend in the drive. "Q—r~ Lady Violet!" he said ungallantly. "Oh, Ronnie, my darling, come back," he muttered sobbingly to himself, but his pride and jealousy kept him from following her. He closed the door and went up into the smoking-room, pacing the floor liked a caged animal. His mind vainly seeking for another answer to the enigma than the one his jealousy prompted him to accept. Had she gone after him, and why had she gone after him?

CHAPTER XI. / The shadows of the trees on the drive swung lazily in the moonlight as Miss Rentoul walked hastily towards the entrance gate of "The Gappe." All signs of her past irritation had vanished from her face. She walked with her eyes fixed on the ground in front of her, her mouth set hard as if with some deep resolve. When she had passed the open gate and found herself on the white flint road that wound in and out among the hills, she paused a moment, as if undecided which direction to take; then, espying a few rough stone steps that led up to a stile, she took that direction. On the other side of the stile the path broke across the / moor to Intake Farm, skirting some hundred yards away a dark cluster of ! fir trees which had been originally planted to temper the fury of the north and east winds to an old farm house, all traces of which had disappeared, except one lichen-covered toppling wall. As Miss Rentoul, walking swiftly, nearri this spot she heard voice 3, the voices of two men. Although they were speaking in subdued tones the night was so still that every word that was uttered distinctly reached her ears. At first she was preceding on her way without taking any notice. Suddenly something brought her to a standstill. She paused in an attitude of close attention; then as if acting on some involuntary impulse she moved swiftly and noiselensly across the strip of heather which seDarated the path from the old farm-house wall. Once safely in its shelter she stooped down with her ear to a crevice in the masonry, her face white and tense with excitement.

The men were only a few paces from the wall among a little grove of fir trees, and every word they uttered reached her ears. "What vou want to do to-night," said a deep guttural voice, whose tones seemed to have a strange effect on the listening girl, "you'll have to do in the cause of the Patriarch. The scoffer must be cut off." "I understand," said the other voice, the voice of James Council, speaking hesitatingly as a man struggling against some all-convincing logic. "But " He paused, as if waiting unwillingly to he convinced. (To be Continued.)