ONE IMPASSIONED HOUR.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXI, Issue 9047, 24 March 1908, Page 2

ONE IMPASSIONED HOUR.

By OWEN MASTERS.

CHAPTER XVI.--Continued. Eastwood was listening acutely, nltnough his eyes were closed. Would this man reveal the truth to him about siteliaY He gricted his teeth, ami wailed. "My partner is deceiving me," resumes hosinuerg. "And 1 feel that 1 shall be left with a few paltry pounds, -waile ht—and the woman called Stella enrich themselves at my expense, and yours, sir." "Stella—Stella," muttered Charlie. ' His face was ghastly. "Ye 3," Rosenberg said lightly. "The beautiful woman who bewitched you, and chloroformed you." He. shook his head slowly. "I don't quite see through their scheme yet. There has been something between them in the past. Oh, those terrible pasts! If it were possible for my memory to become a blank, and if the world could forget it, too, I would make a new beginning to-day. Now, Markham—my partner—has gone to Amer-ica—-using your name, and all belonging to you. He is, in fact, you for the present— make-up, everything. And the papers are full of the disappearance, of a friend of yours—a Mr tierrington, and murder is hinted at, and you are the suspected man." Charlie Eastwood's eyes opened, and his lips moved. "God! If I could know that this were merely a dream!" His brain was clearing, and he glared at Rosenberg. "The twentieth century, and in the heart.of the greatest city on earth!" scornfully. "And in one of the vilest sluma of that great city," Rosenberg answered complacently. "A stable-yard, bounded on three sides by the tall ■warehouses of a waste-merchant; the j front a beer-house, reeking with the dregs of criminal humanity. And you are in the hands of the most depraved and ruthless monsters God! ever created, if it be not blasphemous to assume that the Almighty had a hand in shaping us—Markham, the woman Stella, and myself! i Two hundred pounds, Mr Eastwood I —a small enough sum, all things cmsidered, and I will help you out of this hole. If Markham has set a watch upon me, I may fare badly, but I must run the risk. I must insist upon your promise that you give no alarm for a week, for belore that time I shall be breathing the salt air between heaven and the bounding seas!" The man's eyes glittered, and in the exhilaration of the moment he Hung his hat into the air. "is it a bargain, Mr Eastwood?" "it is a bargain."

CHAPTER XVII

ROSENBERG, ROMANCES.

The rarest of delicacies were provided for the sick man, and, doctor or iio uociur, Rosenberg knew his business. With the saving grace of nuney, what cannot be obtained in London isn't worth the having. So Charlie Eastwood made rapid strides from weakness to comparative strength; and within three days ofhis awakening was reclining in an easy'chair. This same chair has been hired by Rosenberg from a neighbouring furniture store, particularly for the use of his guest. It was of generous proportions deep and broad, and puffed with cushions as soft as down. "You will be able to get out of here .the day after to-morrow," Rosenberg said. "Sooner than that!" "No; I have a lot to do yet, Mr Eastwood. The money is running low, and you haven't any decent clothes to wear. Markham took all but your skin. lam going to the •Cecil to-day; I must see how the I land lies." \ A sudden Ore leaped into Charlie's. -eyes, and he half rose from his chair. "Quiet —quiet, sir! Don't forget your promise—the promise of one gentleman to another. lam placing my liberty—perhaps my life—in your hands. While I am away this morning, you might leave the stable and pound on the big doors at the end of the yard. Or you could attract attention by firing the straw, and shouting. Straw and refuse make tremendous volumes of smoke when burning. But I know that you won't i do anything of the kind, and I shall leave all the doors unlocked, so that you ran walk about in the sunshine if you wish to." He took a sovereign from a greasy leather purse, and dexterously spun it in the air. "That is the last of the Mohicans," hejaughed, "and I am going to spend. half of it upon ycur comfort before I face the enchantress." He went to the outer door, and threw it open. "I shan't be gone long Mr Eastwood; then we must talk ways and means." Charlie's brain was clearing now, and with the old alertness came consciousness of pain. For himself ho had only hatred and contempt. The anxiety that began to gnaw at his vitals was for others —his daughter Miriam, and his lifelong friend, Jack Be-rington. He rose from his chair, and walked with feeble steps out of the stable, and.into the big, brick-paved yard. The roar of the streets fell dully upon his ears, and the soft, warm air stank injiis nostrils. Twice he paced from one end of the yard to the other, and then realised that he was surprisingly weak. But his mind was busy, and he had many questions for Rosenberg when he came back, both hands filled with flowers and a bottle of wine tucked under one arm. Rosenberg distributed the flowers about the stable, and the window-

hDrof "Nina's Repentance," " Clyda's Love Dream," " Her Soldier Lover," " For Love of Marjoric," " The Mystery of Wooctcroft," etc.

edge; and they diffused a pleasant fragance. They consisted chiefly of roses and carnations, and were variously arranged in neckless bottles. ;*

"The waste merchandise next door doesn't improve the natural odour of Whitechapel," Rosenberg said. "There, that's better." "Sit down," said Charlie. "I want to talk to you." Rosenberg looked at him sharply.

"Don't you begin harrowing your head, too soon, Mr-Eastwood. "If you feel like smoking? Dare you have a try? I've got a couple of choice cigars here, and I know what a good smoke is." Charlie reached out eagerly.

"Yesterday the thought of smoking was repugnant; to-day, I shall enjoy it. My head is clear enough. Share the wine with me, too." "Teacups for glasses!"

Charlie lighted his cigar, and watched the blue pmoke curl upward; then he waved the "weed" gently to and fro, and sniffed the aroma with symptoms of pleased approval. "I want to talk to you about money," he said presently, "and other things." Rosenberg nodded, and awaited. "I can get what's wanted quietly —secretly, through the manager of my London office. He is a Scotchman, and as dumb as the grave. He will bring the money here if you take a message to him from me, and help us out of any difficulty. Then you would not have to see " He choked and his eyes burst into flame. "But I must see and speak to the countess," Rosenberg whispered hoarsely, "or she may come here!" "If you will leave a gun, I promise to shoot her!" Charlie answered. There was a minute's silence; Rosenberg's lustrous eyes were contracted, and his red lips drawn into a straight line; then he hughed to himself almost savjjgely. "I am glad about the money, Mr Eastwood," he said. "She may have difficulties, and if I preas, become suspicious. I must begin my new life untrammeled. I never expected anything to turn up like this, and I am resolved to take advantage of it. Chances don't often come to a man after he has turned forty. There is no possibility of this Mr Wilson bringing the police at his back." "Not after he has read what I will write. Now, one or two questions Rosenberg. What is this stuff about my neighbour, Mr John Berrington, meeting with foul play? When was it? Where was it?" "I can only tell you what I have seen in the newspapers. Mr Berrington was with you at the Priory the other night; you went out together, and he has neither been seen nor heard of since. I'll find the papers, and you can see all about it in cold type. You are not' directly charged with any crime, but it is suggested that you can throw some light upon the mystery." Charlie bent his head over his hands in agonised thought. "lean make nothing of it," he said. "Here give me pen and paper, end I'll write to Wilson. But for my promise to you, Rosenberg, I should go straight to Scotland Yard." A half-hour later Rosenberg let himself out of the yard, carefully locking the wicket gate after him. This gate was fitted with two locks of very intricate design. He flashed a keen glance to the right, and to the left, but it was impossible to tell if his movements were being watched. Crowds of people were thronging up and down.

He walked to Allgate^'railway? station, and took a ticket to the Temple. While waiting for the train, he read Eastwood's message to his London manager. It ran thus: — "Dear Mr Wilson: I am in London, and wish to see you. Bearer of this will conduct you to me. Observe strict secrecy. "CHARLES EASTWOOD." (To be continued.)