A SENSATIONAL CASE.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXI, Issue 3008, 3 October 1908, Page 2

A SENSATIONAL CASE.

By FLORENCE WARDEN, Author of«' The Lady in Black," "An Infamous Fraud," "For Love of Jack," "A. Terrible Family," "The House on the Marsh,"

CHAPTER XXXVlll—Continued. He "changed iiis hat for his travell-ing-cap, put on his overcoat, and pretended to go to sleep. But he was ■■ in reality busily occupied in making a fresh plan of action. At Ashford the Continental portion of the train was detatched from the rest, and here as soon as the speed was slackened enough, Linley, regardless of the information tendered by another pas»enger that the train did not stop, jumped out. In doing so, he hurt his ankle rather severely, so that he had to limp along very painfully until he found a way of getting into the town without entering the station. He waited until the Continental portion of the train by which he had come had started, and then he entered the station from the town side and took a ticket for Canterbury. He thought he would spend a few days in the quiet old city, where visitors were too plentiful to excite remark, and where there would be some old china to be picked up in the curiosityshops. It was dark when he reached Canterbury. His injured ankle was giving him a great deal of pain, and he began to fear that he had sprained it severely, and that he should have to rest before he could hope to walk without limping. Linley was a very bad patient when there was anything the matter with him, requiring constant attendance and the most exemplary patience and sweetness on the part of his nurse. As his discomfort | increased, therefore, there rose in his j breast a great longing for the pres-1 ence of his ge.'tle-handed wife; and j as he got, with difficulty, into a cab, and was driven to one of the'old-fash- ». ioned hosteries of the High street, he made up his mind that he would write at once and tell her to join him there. He had not forgotten the circumstances which they had parted that afternoon; indeed, he was for a moment troubled with the question whether the blows he had dealt her would not have proved fatal. But if she were able to come, as he heartily

hoped, he had no doubt that she would be willing to overlook the occurrences of the day, jast as shd had overlooked many a delinquency of his in the past. £>o, on arriving at "The Golden Flpece" he limped up-stairs' to the big, old-fashioned, low ceilinged coffee-room, and, asking for pen and

paper, sat down and wrote to Metelka a most touching note, every word of which, strange to say, was dictated by genuine, though perhaps transient, affection. He even went do far, as he felt his ankle growing worse and remembered how tender her touch could be, as to press his lips upon the jjaper before ha put it in the envelope. Then he directed it, and gave it to the chambermaid to mail.

(To be continued.)

He was just asking himself whether be had not better at once send for a doctor, when, standing near the door in momentary uncertainty, he heard a man's voice in the passage below asking whether a stranger had not arrived by the last train.

This was enough for Linley. Without waiting to hear the reply, he opened a'door on the other side of the corridor leading to the back part of the house, passed through, shut it •softly behind him, and finding himself at the head of a back staircase, hobbled down as quickly as he could and wept by a aide door out into the street. i CHAPTER XXX li. HUGH THORNDYKE'S GOOD-BY. "It was not until an hour after her husband had taken flight that Netelka recovered consciousness. Then'she lay for some time perfectly still, watching the outside as their branches moved slightly in the evening breeze, and wondering vaguely why her aunt was sitting there. Presently Lady Kenslow rose from her chair, and then Netelka perceived that there was another, person in, the room. This was the doctor, who at once came forward at a sign from Lady Kenslow. Netelka began at once to recollect something of what had ' happened, and they saw her face contract as the terrible memory returned. She struggled up on her elbow, and looked around her as if seeking some one. "You must bei quiet, very quiet, you know," said the doctor. But this was evidently impossible to his patient, in whose face anxiety grew deeper every moment. Struggling to obtain command of herself, to impress the doctor with the idea that she was not so ill as he imagined, she addressed him in a very low voice, which she tried in vain to keep steady: "Will you think me very rude, doctor, if I ask you to Jet me speak t) my aunt one moment—only one moment —alone?" Her voice had sunk to a : hoarss whisper by the time she uttered the last words. The doctor, who had an inkling that something had gone very wrong in the domestic affairs of the establishment, was forced to consent. 'Mind, you are upon honour," said he. "It is to be only one moment. Then absolute quiet again. Remember!" He withdrew, a3 he spoke, into the adjoining dressing-room, and Lady Kensbw took his place by the bedside. "Aunt Mary, tell me the truth. What has happened? Tell me everything." "We found you lying in your husband's dressing-room, and we picked you up and brought you here. That is all," said Lady Kenslow. "And where—where"—her voice faltered, and she looked again, fearfully, round the room—"is Linley?"

"Nobody knows," answered Lady Kenslow dryly. Netelka looked at her aunt questioningly. "Tell me—l can trust you, aunt—did any one think "

"That he had behaved like a scoundrel? Yes, my dear, we do think so. Isn't that enough for you now?" "Only one thing more—is anybody trying to find him?" Lady Kenslow's eyes fell. She was a truthful woman and she did not want to answer this. Her silence, however, was answer enough to an intelligence as much on the alert as Netelka's. She started up. "Ah!" she cried. "I see. The police are after him." Lady Kenslow said nothing, and the doctor coming back at that moment Netelka asked no more, but lay back with her eyes closed, as if asleep. Much to Lady Kerislow'c relief, th'« doctor pronounced the opinion that Netelka was not so seriously injured as had been at first supposed, and that professional nursing would not be necessary if Lady Kenslow preferred to attend on her niece herself. The one great essential to her recovery was, unfortunately, the luxury hardest to actain—perfect tranquility, rest, and freedom from anxiety. It surprised Lady Kenslow ,to find how anxious Netelka was for the escape of her husband. It even caused the elder lady to be a little indignant; for to regret that punishment should fall upon such a scoundrel as Linley had proved himself seemed to argue a meanness of spirit of which Netelka had not previously shown any sign. However, of course, she did not attempt to remonstrate with her niece at that time, but concurred in the opinion of the latter that Linley was too dever to be caught. On the following morning Netelka was much better. She was lying with closed eyes, pretending tj be asleep, because she felt too weak and too dispirited to talk, when she heard a sofl tap at tthe door. Lady Kenslow, who had passed the night on the sofa, went on tiptoe to the door, and the following dialogue between her and tne maid was overhead by the patient in the bed:—

"There's a letter for Mrs Hilliard, ray lady, and it's in Mr Hilliard's handwriting, I know. And look, the postmark's Canterbury." When Lady Kenslow turned back into the room, with ihe letter in her hand, of course she found her niece' sitting up in bed, holding out her hand.

"Give it to ma, aunt; I must have it!"