A DESPERATE GAME.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10112, 6 October 1910, Page 2

A DESPERATE GAME.

10UR SERIAL.)

By OWEN MASTERS. Author of "The Master of Tredcroft," "One Impassioned Hour," "The Deverol Heritage," "When Love Rules the Heart," "Captain Emlyns Bride," etc.

CHAPTER XL—Continued.. "I saw him," I said bitterly, "and he offered me money if I would clear out of he country and stay out. He is a great man, you know, going into Parliament, and he doesn't want a convict cousin hanging about him." "Did he make a good offer ?"j "no offered me live thousand pounds if I would go to America and promise never to come back.' 'Why not take the money and come back?" But I shook my head. "I could not do that," I said, "if I promised." "Now, that's a curious thing," ho replied, thoughtfully. "I should n't hesitate about that a minute. Promises are comparative terms with mo. But, llonny, you're an ass not to take it. It's a hopeless job you are on, anyway." "I shall go through with it," I said doggedly "Can you help me to some work?" "Possibly," he returned. "Come ane see me at the office to-morrow. I have an idea. What money have you?" "Pour and eightpence," I promptly responded. "So poor as that. Snakes and ladders! but you are on the rocks." He pulled a handful of coins from his trousers pocket and picking out five sovereigns handede them to me. "Come to the office tomorrow," he said, then added, "and now I shall have to turn you out. lam on the' track of Nora Hardcasle—going to see some people who fancy they know her. Don't forget to turn up at the office to-morrow about, say eleven."

I walked home ,full of conflicting thoughts and bewildering doubts, jingling the live sovereigns in my pocket. When one has broken into one's last five shillings, five pounds seem like a sudden accession to wealth. Aud I think it was that which ultimately decided me. Harold had given me good advice. Should I take it, and go and beg my cousin to renew- his offer ? Not yet, at all events. I was five pounds to the good, and with economy I might make that sum last me five or six weeks.

what is the bargain?" "For the former, it is not yet time," she responded. "And for tho bargain—if you come to money, which should bo yours and is not, should be another's not yours, would you divide it with that other?" "It is a complicated conundrum, madam,'' I said, "and the language is cryptic." "And your iunocsnee proved?" "Madam!" "And one hundred pounds in money down?" "But , madam " "Sec," she went on, taking from the. leather bag a roll of notes, "these are twenty five-pound notes." "I do not understand you, at all," I said a little wearily. "It is here," she replied. "If I give you this sum, if I give you back your good name, if 1 secure to you the money, which is yours, would you divide it with another?" "The money?" "Yes—yes, of course." "With yourself, madam?" "No, no, no, with—with another person." "If you give me back my good name you can have the money." "No, no, that will not do. He cannot get it unless you get it first." "Then, why doesn't he take it?" "Only through ycu, he can only take -- through you." "And I am not to know what the money is?' ' "Not yet." •"Nor where it is?" "Not yet." "And what am I to do?" "Would you sign a bond to pay him one hundred thousand pounds two years from o-day?" "I could sign that bond easily enough," I replied, laughing a little bitterly. "I am not likely to have a hundred thousand pence, perhaps not a hundred pence." "Before two years you will have two hundred and fifty thousand pounds." "Are you a fortune teller?' "Yes, ,a prophet; but I speak of what I know, and I, Nora Hardcas

I reached Bloomsbury just after dark and was met in the passage by old Joel Hudspith. "There's a lady in your room waiting to see you," he said. "She has been there a good ten minutes." "A lady!" I cried, my first thoughts flying to Constance; "what sort of a lady?" "I don't know," he responded, "she wears a thick veil. I could not see her face. She is upstairs." And upstairs I went. The room was in darkness when I entered it, but I struck a match and lit the gas. Then I saw her standing by the window in heavy, black draperies, her face shrouded in a thick veil. She was too tall for Constance, at all events.

As I stood holding the half expired match in my hand, she raised her veil, disclosing a face of no common beauty, with piercing dark eyes, ami a wealth of black hair worn low round her ears and neck. She smiled faintly as she saw my astonishment, and laughed softly as I dropped the match just as it began to burn my fingers. "May I ask " I began. "You are Mr Ronald Normir.g----ton?" she said, half questioningly, half in assertion, in a voice that was low and sweet, and just tinged with the. suggestion of an accent. "Yes."

"And I," she went on in the same quiet tones, "am Ncra Hardcastle!"

CHAPTER XII. REMARKABLE TERMS. I stared tit ray visitor for a moment in dumb stupefaction, then walked across to the door and closed it, glancing apprehensively to the landing, as if I feared already to see the pursuing forms of the police. "Yes," she said, "and I have come to see you, Ronald Normingtan." That she was the woman of whom they were in search—the servant, ! the cook—l could hardly believe, for she spoke with the accent of a lady, and carried herself like one. ■ ' • • "Miss Nora Hardcastle," I stammered; "but I do not know that name." "No? Have you not seen the papers? I was cook to—to Mr Vanneck!" Her voice faltered a little as she spoke the name, but it was' only momentarily. "Hush!" I said quickly. "Do you not know—the police " "Oh, yes," she sweetly responded; 'but you will not betray, me, for you —were there, too!" I thought rapidly for a moment or two, and then, shying my head, said: "I have, neb been in Hampstead for a week or more," whereat she laughed. ~ "But," she said, "1 came not to talk of that, but of you. I come from a friend."

tie, tell you." "But my good name, madam?" "That also." "Will it be mentioned in the bond?" "Yes—perhaps." "I agree madam," I said, laughing again, but still mirthlessly. "But answer me a question—do you believe that 1 took the Coyton jewel.;!" "I know you did not." "Do you know who did?" ' 'That - also—yes.'' "Then, for the love of Heaven, madam, tell me." blie only shook her head. "You will tell me in good tim>;?':' "Before two years." "Two years is a long time." M 'Yet you endured five." "Perforce, I could not help it." "Neither can you help this, ii is yes or no. My terms or none. Nay," she said, as she saw me glance towards the door, "you dare not soi-d for the police, because that would, mean that " "I, never di-eameO ot Li" I. said truthfully enough. "You accept?" "Yes, when must I sign?" "You give me your word of honour that you accept?" "A convict's word of honou.'., madam." "What matter, if I count it good enough ?" without another word she handed me the notes and walked towards the door. "But will you tell me nothing more?" I pleaded. "Nothing save this—courage and hope." "And can I do nothing?" "Nothing." With which she stepped out on tiie landing, closing the door behind her, leaving me dumfouncled and dazed, with the bundle c.f ':ve-pov.nd notes tightly clasped in my hand. And, curiously, by of those wiercl mental coincidences which sometimes flash across the brain, exactly at that moment I recollected .for the first time since that sombre night at Hampstead, the tiny scrap of paper I had picked up from the table and thrust into my vest pocket. The bewilderingly rapid series of incidents that had thronged'hard upon that, iiad driven it completely from my mind, and not once until this moment had I so much as given ■ a thought to it. Now, I drew it from my pocket, dirty, crumpled, but still legible, and smoothing it out carefully upon the table perused the cryptic fragment once again.

She drew off her gloves, and took a. small leather hag from he rpocket in the side seam of her skirt. A glance at her left hand told ine that she was a married woman. Had she been Van neck's wife? But she put a period to my speculations with her next words:

"I conio from a friend," she said, "and 1 have, a bargain to make." "Ah! ' Who is the friend and

" aid Normington is inn " Was Nora Hardcastlo the writer of that? Or was the man to whom I. was to pay that visionary cash? I had found that letter on the table whereon lay the dead body of the murdered man, and it was easy to read into those four words the message that Nora Hardcastlo had given me by word of mouth. The man who said he could clear my name, the man whose tAvcnty-five pound notes lay there before ,me on the table, he was the murderer of Richard Vanneek, and the girl was his accomplice. Was it he that had given me the warning as I hung upon the wall of Vamieck's garden gazing after Maynai'd Drew's motor ear. Who was he?

(To be continued.)