"The Chains of Bondage."

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10065, 12 August 1910, Page 2

"The Chains of Bondage."

CHAPTER'XXI.—Continued

It had been one of the luckiest strokes he had ever made when circumstances had enabled him to render the millionaire some trilling service. Craven had taken a tancy to him—had finally decided to avail himself of "Wace's help in his search for his wife and daughter. Delayed at the last moment in Australia, Wace had followed George Craven to England by the next steamer, there to learn of the millionaire's sudden death on landing at Southampton. Wace had seen his chance of turning this secret to his own advantage. He had all the proofs of that marriage of nineteen years ago; he had pursued'the search that death had prevented George Craven from carrying out. It had taken him weeks before the clues in his possession had led him to any definite result; bat, as he had told Judith, he had been successful at last. He was utterly unscrupulous. His first thought when he had found George Craven's widow and daughter in comparatively poor circumstances had been characteristic of the man: Could lie induce this girl to marry him, and then "discover" that she was an heiress? But he had been quiek to realise that this plan was impracticable—the girl's manner to.vard him speedily convinced him of that—and Mr Wace was not tin.- man to waste time on a forlorn hope. So re had gone to Judith Fairfax. She should ;«.,, .v.id pay heavily, for his silence. He heartily cius-'ci liilstree's unexpected intrusion. But for Ellstree, he might have already struck a bargain with this woman who had no right to the millions she was in possession of. And with that thought in his mind Wace had spoken to her on the telephone from his fiat—the message Judith had received shortly after Vernham's departure from the house in Green street that night. " For all that she tried to hide it, she's pretty badly scared at the thought of losing this fortune —as who wouldn't be?" he said to himself, with satisfaction. "She'll be only too glad to make terms with me—with the man whom her lover has forbidden her to see again!" The thought seemed to tickle ids sense of humor.

An evil smile had come into his face—the boyish, ingenuous face that usually looked so different from the conventional notion of a thor-ough-paced scoundrel, with his rather dudelike air, and the trustful, China-blue eyes that were almost like those of a wondering baby—a smile that a sudden thought had brought. Perhaps, after he had blei this woman to the utmost, he m ght finally reveal this secret to the r'ghtful heirs whom it vitally' concerned, he was telling himself. It was not that he had any feeling of animosity against Judith Fairfax; but he hated Ellstree, and she was engaged to Ellstree. "Jove, it would be a fine revenge to strike at Ellstree through. the woman he loves!" Wace muttered, as he lay back in an armchair, lighting v a cigarette. I'd give a good deal to be qufts with him; and I think such a revenge would make us quits!" The door of the room where he was sitting stood slightly ajar; from behind it, from the hall, a sudden sound attracted his attention. Wace glanced up quickly. He had keen hearing, and he had heard a sound like the click of the letter-slit in the outer door.

Instinctively he half rose in his chair; then apparently thought better of his intention of rising. Probably he had been mistaken. It could not be the postman, for he would have knocked; besides, he had heard no footsteps. Yet the low sound had reached him so clearly. He changed his mind again; he jumped up, and walked into the hall.

Lying on the mat ,just outside the doc*-, was a tiny red-and-white object. As Wace's eyes fell on it, his face changed and he quickly stooped and picked iit up. A sudden, swift look of consternation and dread had swept into his face, that seemed quite unexplained by what he hekl in his hands.

It was merely a playing card—the nine of diamonds. What was there in that to strike a man as with a mortal fear?

He glanced up and down the corridor. No one was there. He looked down the dimly lighted Avail of the staircase. No one in sight, no sound of descending footsteps. The tiling savoured of magic. For a moment he stood listening with a white startled face; then went back into his apartment, still holding in his hands that piece of white pasteboard with the nine of diamonds on it.

Just an ordinary playing card; but that it had more than ordinary significance for this man who gazed at it, white and shaken, was evident from his face.

Suddenly, as though it stung him, Herbert Wace let fall from his hands the card that had come to him so mysteriously and inexplicably. This man knew that it was to be

taken as a message or a threat—the threat of an unknown, invisible

£ BY EMILY B. HETHEEIKGTON. 5 2 7 S» Author of—" His College Chum," " Wortbington's f, V Pledge," "A Kepen,ant Foe," etc. 3

some and beautiful, and Trevana was a .nan whom, sowehow, love h^ 1 abvays passed ty. " Even if yoii've sacrificed the prospect of a fortune—well, you've won something worth far more, you lucky fejlow—something money couldn't buy!" It had been a fortunate occurrence that Jim had sought Trevena's advice. The question of how to earn his living, now that he was thrown on his own resources, had been unexpectedly solved. Trerana had offered him a position there and then.

enemy, who had for a moment been strangely near to him to-night, and had vanished as silently as a shadow.

CHAPTER XXI. A HOUSE OF MYSTERY. "Yes; it's the sort of legacy that doesn't come to a man every day in the week," said Trevana to Jim Ralston, with a laugh; ' l a house that, by its late owner's injunction, is to remain on one's hands untenated!" _/"JJo you mean that seriously?" asked Jim of his friend. "Quite seriously. It's my own house, and it's unoccupied, but I'm not allowed to find a tenant for it!" laughed Trevana. "It's been empty for years, I believe; and I don't wonder. I can't imagine any one wanting to live in it—such a queer old place as it is, with no end of uncanny stories told about it, and a reputation for being haunted. What whim or crotchet was in my Cousin Andrew's mind—and, of course, the old chap was full of the oldest whims—is more than I can say; but almost his last words to me were to make me promise that the house should continue to be empty. What on earth could his motive have been in imposing such a stipulation?" "It sounds mysterious, anyway. And you can't sell it, either; though, I suppose, no one would want to buy the place if it's as you describe?"

" One would have thought that," said Trevana, " especially as it's leasehold property, with only another five years to run before passing to the ground landlord. Yet since my cousin's death I've had no less than three offers to buy the house. Why any one should want to buy such a rat's castle is a puzzle beyond my comprehension r"

Trevana and Jim were seated in a taxieab bowling swiftly southward over Battersca Bridge. It was a few days after the quarrel between Jim and his father—the quarrel that seemed likely to be permanent. Jim had said he would never touch another penny of his father's, after that revelation of how Paul Ralston's wealth was made, and he meant it. On the morning following he had gone to the house to remove his own personal belongings. He had not seen his father; he had chosen a time when he knew the older man would be in the city.

.Jim had gone to see Trevana, to ask his advice about the future—whether his friend advised him to hang on to the law, if possible, until the briefs began to come in, or to seek some other occupation forthwith.

Trewtna had listened sympathetically as Jim toMl of his father's attempt to separate him and Elsie; and the rather ugly, hulldog—like face lighted up with a gleam of admiration as he heard of the girls refusal of Paul Ralston's enormous bid.

"Jove! you ought to consider yourself a lucky chap, Jim!" Trevana said. He had only met Elsie once—<an that day up the river, when he had suspected how matters stood between her and his friend. He half envied Jim his happiness now, as he thought of_ the girl's face. It had been so sweet, v-i-i-

"The fact is, just now I'm looking about for some ono in a sort of secretarial capacity—it's not exactly that, but the details can wait." Trevena had said, " and I shan't want to look further if you'll accept. You're just the man I want-; and, at any rate, this position will give you time to wait until some decent berth comes along. And I'd rather have you than any man I know." (To be Continued).