"The Chains of Bondage."

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10088, 8 September 1910, Page 2

"The Chains of Bondage."

CHAPTER XXXlX.—Continued. | Judith was looking very white j and ill; the sight of her face troubled him. He knew how terrible the ordeal must have been I through which she had passed. He only wondered at the power of will aim resolution that had enabled her to play her part so well at that moment in the flat before the two detectives. "I remember that as I went into the flat I saw a playing card lying on the mat just inside the door," Trevena said suddenly. His thoughts had been busy with the inexplicable crime in which he had become involved. What was the solution? He had found Judith alone in the flat with a murdered man, a prisoner. He realised how incredible her story must have seemed to the average person—that no one had left the flat after the crime, and yet that she, who was alone behind that locked door with the victim, was innocent; he realised how fatally circumstances must have pointed to her.' Yet, in spite of this, John Trevena refused to believe her guilty. In his agitation, he had scarcely noticed or,,given "a thought to the card at the ' ime; but • the remembrance came back to him now, touched, with another recollection that perhaps had served unconsciously to impress the "fact on his mind. It was just such a card, the nine of diamonds, that he and Jim Ralston had found dropped in the room in that strange old house at Denmark Hill, where the woman's figure that Jim had seen _ mysteriously disappeared. The coincidence was startling. Could there be any connection between the two events? "You don't know how that .card came to be lying there?" he asked hr. "No." Judith wearily made »an effort, to think. "I remember seeing it, too, after the tragedy—not before. I am sure it was not, there when I entered the flat, or even •when. I locked myself in the sitting-:, room. ' Unless Herbert Wace Jiimi self dropped it, and that seems unlikely, it must have been put through the letter box at the time of the murder." In spite of himself, Trevena's thoughts reverted to that incident in the old house at Denmark Hill —to a figure that, had disappeared as silently and mysteriously as a ghost, leaving that card as the one proof that the whole affair had not been a trick of the imagination; and now the murderer of Herbert Wace, too, had disappeared quite inexplicably from a flat, where there was only one means of egress, and that a locked door, with a missing key. And, as in the other case, a card, the nine of diamonds, was found lying on the floor. In some way that card was the olue to the whole mystery. But what that mystery was, and whether there was any connection or not between the two incidents, it was a clue that left John Trevena hopelessly in the dark. Meanwhile the flat in the building near Victoria Street was in the possession of the police, who were searching every corner in the course of their investigations. They had already found the coat with blood stains upon it. There was nothing in the pockets, but he name of the tailor appeared under the tab. From certain circumstances the police had arrived at the opinion that this coat had not belonged to the dead man, and that it seemed likely to prove a valuable clue.

CHAPTER XL. A THREAT FROM THE UNKNOWN. In bequeathing to his distant cousin, John Trevena ,the old house known as Ffoulke's Folly, saddled by the oddest conditions, Andrew Grierson had more than justified his reputation as an eccentric of eccentries—had left his heir with a tantalizing riddle that, as the days passed, Trevena and Jim Ralston were no nearer the solving. That some strange secret was bound up with Ffoulke's Folly seemed certain. Andrew Grierson had sent for Trevena when dying, to tell him he had made him his heir. This house was the last thing the dying man had spoken of; he began to speak eagerly, as though he feared death might come upon him before he could tell something that he wished to say. He had made Trevena promise that the place should be neither let nor sold ,but remain untenanted ; then, as he was beginning to speak further, the final stroke of paralysis had cut short the words, and the secret, whatever it was, oh the dying man's lips, was left forever untold. That fact alone was enough to stimulate Trevena's curiosity. That curiosity was added to, when, within a day or two of Grierson's death no fewer than three offers had been made to purchase the house—a dreary rat's castle, where surely no one could wish to live, and with only a few years remaining before it reverted to the ground landlord; and the adventure that had befallen him and Jim Ralston on heir night visit was a culminating factor, had one been necessary, that determined him to try to solve the mystery.

BY EMILY B. HETHEEINGTGN. Author of—" His College Chum," " Worthington.'& Pledge," " A Kepentant Foe," etc.

But in tins determination Trevena was not actuated by curiosity alone. Grierson had died suddenly leaving his affairs in anything but order; the valuable collection of precious stones that the old man was known to possess could not be found after his death. They had disappeared without a trace. That they were still in Grierson's possession at the time of his death was proved by a reference the dying man had made to them. Could it be that they were hidden in the house? In ordinary circumstances it would have seemed unlikely, only that Andrew Grierson had shown himself a man of the strangest whims. The mere fact that he had had a telephone installed in the house that had stood empty for years proved it. "What in thunder does it all mean? And who can these mysterI ious invisible tenants be whom we j certainly have heard?" Trevena said, thinking of that oururas sound as of muffled voices that both ho and Jim had heard on entering the house on the night the woman's figure had flitted past them in the dusk. "Hang it all, it's my property, even if it is a bit of a white elephant, and I'm going to find out." It seemed to him that the key to the mystery lay in the hexagonal room. It was in that room that the card had been found, and, almost beyond question, the figure that Jim had seen had disappeared in that room. Trevena had no belief in the supernatural. It was clear to him that the figure had been of flesh and blood; and flesh and blood cannot disappear miraculously through solid walls. There must be some secret way out of the room, and Trevena was determined to find it. It was the afternoon after kis escape with Judith Fairfzx from the murdered man's flat that Trevena, accompanied by Jim Ralston and a third man, a building expert, named Morrison, came up to the gate in the high wall surrounding Ffoulke's Folly. Trevena unlocked the gate. Th,e three men walked across the neglected garden to the big, irregularly shaped house. Trevena flung open the heavy front door. Achill breath of dust and mildew met them as they crossed the threshold and made their way upstairs to the hexagonal room. "This is the room I spoke about, Mr Morrison," said Trevena. "I am convinced that there is a secret door somewhere, and I want you to find it." He could not have said why, but as he spoke Trevena had a sudden, uncanny feeling as of invisible ears listening to every word he said. The six walls of the room were panelled in oak. Mr Morrison, a somewhat silent man, went round the walls without a word, tapping carefully, listening for a hollow sound. Every wall seemed quite solid, and at last he turned* to Trevena. "I suppose you have v good grounds for supposing there is a secret door, Mr Trevena? I can only say I should have doubted it myself. However, if you care to go to the trouble and expense you can have the question solved definitely by having this panelling removed. It would have to be done carefully by good workmen, so as not to spoil the oak ' "When could you send your men?" interrupted Trevena. "To-morrow." "All right. To-morrow we'll have that panelling all down," said Trevena decidedly; ' 'and I think, after to-morrow, those mysterious tenants who seem to have taken possession of this house will find themselves dispossessed," he grimly added to Jim. He turned suddenly as the words left his lips. He could almost have sworn that he heard a faint, mocking laugh not far away, as if in ironical comment on his vowed intention. (To be Continued Daily.)