"The Chains of Bondage."

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10089, 10 September 1910, Page 2

"The Chains of Bondage."

CHAPTER XL!.—Continued. "Very well," said at last, "i agree to your t->rins; and I tviil conic to-night to ioulke i' oily for the last time." John Trevena rang off. For a little while he sat with contracted brows, deep in thought, facing this new complication. From the moment the detectives had knocked at the flat that had witnessed a tragedy, he had been alive to the dangerous position he would find himself in if ever ho were traced. But once he and Judith had won their way clear of the building, lie had looked on that as a contingency too remote to worry over seriously. True, he had left his coat behind; but how could that lead to anything? His name was srot in it. Probably the police would believe it had belonged to the dead man. And all the time his movements of that night had been known to the mysterious tenants of Ffoulke's Folly! That was a revelation enough to shake any man out of his sense of fancied security. What guarantee had he that they would keep their side of the bargain just agreed upon. ' As these disquieting thoughts raced through his mind, Trevena had mechanically picked up again the packet of letters and papers belonging to the murdered man that hed fallen from his hand as he answered the summons of the telephone. Almost unthinkingly he slipped off the confining elastic band. Well, he would see how far their

word was to be relied on regarding the jewels, at any rate. He would call for Jim Ralston, and together they would pay another visit to the hexagonal room.

That determination had come into Trevena's mind, when his eyes were suddenly arrested by some words on one of the papers he was holding in his hand—something startling enough to drag him out of his own moody reflections. A swift, amazed exclamation broke from him as he stared half increduously at the written words.

"Jove I George Craven, the millionaire, contracted a secret marriage—left a wife and daughter!" he cried, his thought flying swiftly to the woman now in possession of those millions.

That packet Trevena had found in dead Herbert Wace's pocket containing the proofs of the millionaires marriage, and the legal heirs, that Judith had gone that night to buy. Rapidly Trevena glanced through document after document—George Craven's written confession of the wrong he had done his wife, the certificate of the marriage, the photograph of the woman he had married under another name. "Then, if these documents are genuine,' 5 John Trevena muttered, ' 'they strip Judith Fairfax of every penny!" - And, if they were genuine, what was he to do? Why had fate singled him out to strike this blow at the woman he loved, if he did his duty as a man of honour, this blow would leave her a pauper! * * ' * * -» It was late on the same afternoon when Sir Wilfred Ellstree drove up to a fashionable women's club in Piccadilly, where he had arranged to meet Judith to take her out to dinner.

[ Judith was standing by one of the 1 long windows facing the Green Park as the motor car drop up. Ellstree waved his hand gaily to he ras he jumped down from the car, and . ran up the steps of the club. A new addition of the evening papers was just out. Newsboys were tearing along Piccadilly, and the sight of the placards they carried—"Victoria Street Murder: Inquest" —reminded her jarringly of. the events of the previous night—not thai; her memory needed spurring. All day. Judith had been able to think of nothing else. John Trevena had come chivalrously to her rescue in that situation of supreme peril she had found herself in, had got her away; but the danger, was it finally passed, for herself, for him ? Judith felt that she would never forgive herself if she were the cause of evil befalling John Trevena. Ellstree came in; he was smiling as he greeted her. "I've just heard something all the West End' clubs will roar over when the news gets about!" he cried. "What unconscious humorists the police are! Rather rough on poor old Trevena; but, of course, it will be recognised at once for the egregious mistake it is before any harm's done " "What do you mean, Wilfred ?" Judith cried quickly. It was odd that his first words should have reference to the man pi her thoughts, and in connection with the police. "Oh, I'll tell you as we drive to the Bourbon! John Trevena, of all men! Of course, its too preposterous for words!" Judith eyes were wide and unnaturally bright, as she caught his arm. \ "What do you mean? Don't keep me in suspense!" she broke out feverishly. "Why, to suspect even for a moment a chap like Trevena having a hand in a crime!" and Ellstree laughed. "Of course, his first words

BY EMILY B. EETHEBIJSGXON. Author c£ - "His College Chum," " Wortiiit)lion's liuuge," "A Hej,-eniaiit Foe," em

will be sufficient to brash aside any ghost of suspicion." "You—you mean the munlor the newsboys - are shouting in the streets ?" she breathlessly whispered. Ellstroo saw the startled look in her face and misread it. "1 forgot for the moment that you had seen Wace, that the man once thrust himself unwarrantably upon you, Judith," he said gravely. "Yes, in connection with Waco's murder." "But you say he—lie is suspected?" Elstree laughed. "Not seriously, of course, or I shouldn't be laughing," he said. "It is just this : A coat was found in the dead man's room, which the police fancy belonged to a man who called at Wace's flat last night. As it happens this coat was made by a tailor in Sackville Street; that's how I came to hear about it. I was there just now when a plain-clothes man turned up. He'd been there throe or four times already, only Vine—that's the tailor —-was out of town till- this afternoon. He-wan-ted to know whom Vine had made the" coat for," went oh Ellstreo, not dreaming of the growing horror his -words were bringing to the listener. "The police never hinted their reason for the question. Vine examined it, and said at once 'Mr Trevena.' And it .appears the police believe the o.vner of that coat to have been at the dead man's flat last flight, and to have helped a woman, his accessory in the murder, tp get away. Trevena, of all men!" he cried, laughing. Judith stood listening as if struck dumb with horror. "Why, you look quite startled, Ju! Of course, it's nothing. No doubt an old coat Trevena's man has disposed of at some time. Once the police see Trevena they'll realize what a • particularly mad notion they've got into their thick skulls." When the police saw Trevena—the two detectives who had been at the fiat last night!

Judith stood like a woman of stone. The room was swaying round her. Waves of horror and fear seemed to be submerging her. The police had traced the ownership of the coat Trevena had left! Inevitably Trevena would be recognised again and arrested—and Ellstree was laughing! She forgot her own danger, she only realised that John Trevena's chivalry toward her had drawn him into deadly peril! Murder! He would be charged with murder!

Ellstree's laugh ended abruptly, with a sudden glimpse of her face. "Why, Judith——" he began in startled tones. She interrupted him wildly. "I must go and warn him at once —now!" she cried. "Heaven Send it may not be too late!" Would she be in time to warn Trevena, or lftid the police gone at once to his rooms and arrested him ? "Warn Trevena? What do you mean, Judith?" Ellstree cried, seizing her wrist, as the white-faced woman made a rapid step towards the door. "You don't understand. It isn't as though he was the man they really want!" ".Don't stop me, Wilfred," she cried, wrenching her hand free. "And don't come with me now! You must stop and warn him over the telephone! Tell him all you've told, me. Everything hangs on our being in time." Judith ran from the room, leaving Elstree with the laughter struck suddenly from his lips, startled as he had never been startled in his life before. (To Be Continued.)