A Daughter of Mystery

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10264, 16 June 1911, Page 2

A Daughter of Mystery

OUR SERIAL.

BY F. L. DACRE, Author of "Was He the-Man?" "A Phantom of the Past," Sir John's Heiress," "A Loveless Marriage," "The Doctor's Secret," etc

CHAFFER XXX.— Continued

"An Englishman in Russia" was the title Stanley thought of using. It | was very catchy and comprehensive. ' He wanted it to have a place among ; the hest of its kind; it must he a ! standard work, which men could take ' up with confidence and lay down ■ with satisfaction. "But for my fortunately meeting you, Milss Tyndall, the thing might' have 'been shelved for years. I spent three months in Russia and learnt nothing. I will not glean my facts from hooks; they must be firsthand from people who know what they are talking about. I want to introduce you to a young Russiaai who comes to our church. He has married an- English wife, and vows that he will never again set foot in the iland of his'birth. About a year since, he went to St. Petersburg to sea his mother, and was observed consulting a book of illustrations—cigars. He .travels for a cigar maker in Houndsditoh. The thick-headed police thought that the pictures referred to some torpedo .business, and our young Russian was thrown into prison. He lay there for .seven weeks before tho authorities troubled their heads about him."

was rather too warm, if anything; but that was to be expected in early August. The Mobherleys made a great deal of the annual summer holiday, and enjoyed it to the full. There was a certain .amount of money laid by, and it was spent with no niggardly hand.

"Ho was lucky to escape as lie did. The police rarely admit thait they are m error. Mr Stanley," there was an earnest, eager liglit in her eyes, "this book should not foe hastily written. T can get heaps of information from .Russians whom I know—men who have lived through, the horrors of Siberia, and know the.-.cruelty of Russian rule from A. to Z. There appeal's to he little published in the English language except unrealistic stuff from the pens of romanticists, or stuff vamped up on mere hearsay evidence, and padded tfirom the expurged editions of Russian books." "Hear! Hear!" [laughed Stanley. "This thing's going to be a huge success, and I've got to play second fiddle."

"Oh, no, Mr Stanley, I didn't mean that!"

"Yes—yes, my dear Alias Tymdall. If you only knew how tremendously glad I am! ' Now, of course, you win work after your own heart. Not a bat of use mapping out a daily quantum; authors are not machines, and the off days must be taken into account. Send tflie fragments along when they are ready, and I'll piece them together. One has to he very painstaking with this isort of work, or it appears to the critic to be hiarassingJy ' devoid of contraction. Where I am prone to * fail is subjecting the gift of narrative, to..the didactic. That's just where your fluent descriptive (powers and light

"We will have a carriage to Victoria," Mr Mobberley said. "It is so awkward and wearisome at suburban stations with, a lot of luggage. The extra cost will be only a. few ishillingse, but consider the comfort. I'd rather have a couple of weeks of thorough, pleasure than a month wiit-h the isame money and have to be planning ways and means a .dozen times a day. Let's have plenty of butter on our bread, and jam, too, if we feel like it." But for all Mr Mobberley's talk about comfort, it was a perspiring party that arrived at Victoria Station to catch the eleven-forty express to Brighton. There were hundreds of other people upon exactly the same business, and the platform was dotted with little piles of luggage, and not half enough porters to go round. At last they were packed into the train like peaches in a basket, and the heat (was almost overpowering. Whistles, banging doors, the hoarse voices of men, dust, and chaos! This j was Elneth's first experience of ia I summer holiday, and she was already sighing for the cool fragrance of the little Streatham garden. Matters were slightly improved when the train was fairly on, its way, a.nd, in spite of the discomfort, her fellow passengers; were smiling' beneficently. The men were using their straw hats as fans, and promising each, other a good iime by tlhe sea t if the weather only held out. "Are you enjoying yourself, Miss Tyndall?" Mr Mobberley cheerily asked. He 'had discarded his city clothes and looked like a respectable tramp. His attire was 'limited. A pair of faded flannel trousers, a tennis shirt, an alpaca jacket, and a straw hat. ■ "Rather too warm for much enjoyment," Elneth said. "Now, if I were in Japan, on© need only wear a kimimo an«l a sash!" "We shall be out of this in aai hour or so." Mr Mobberley consulted hia watch. "And then for the sea breezes!"

touch, Avill be of so much service. When do you leave for Brighton ?" "On Saturday morning. Mr Mobberely finishes at the office on Friday." "And this is Thursday. Sermon day to-cmorrow. No! I don't think I shall be able to see you again .this week, but I'll run down to Brighton. There's a cheap excursion on Wednesday. Well, I'll he off now. I hope the sea- adr "will bring 'back the roses to your cheeks. Good-bye." They'shook'-hands. "Make my excuses to Mrs Mobberley.' She does-* n't want to be bothered by me, with her fliea<rfuH of packing." Elnetli was very thoughtful after the curate had gone. This work he had given her with so much confidence was becoming very precious to her, and there must be no question about the success of it. The occupation was not only congenial but promised to be profitable. Not only that, it helped her to forget painful things. What a mine of information Paul Morosov could give her if he K'hose. He was in direct touch with the right sort of people, from Grand Duke to the humblest serf. If she could only interest Jidm. She would try.

The sea breezes, and Brighton, and all in connection with it, were very disappointing. She had dreamed of vast-expanses of beach, and furzy commons, of quiet nooks where one could hear nothing but the sea and the song of the surf. She had pictured old-world fishermen., yachts with tsnow white sails in the offing, and a ruined castle perched on a cliff, with the waves thundering at its crumbling walls. 'But Brighton wojs a big town of n<amrow streets, packed wifth a jostling crowd, the apartments were close and stuffy, and the air reeked with the smell of eook-

The magnificent promenade along the sea front w-as not a whit more pleasing to her fastidious mind. People, people everywhere! Motor oars, taxi-cabs, horse carriages, and even the ungainly chAr-a-banc, went whirling and hooting by. Hurry,, scurry, noise and confusion ; no peace anywhere. i

By that night's mail a long letter was .sent to Paul Morosov. She told Mm .about iher opportunities ami aspirations, and begged Mm to 'help her to their full realisation. It was a frank letter (from beginning to end, an earnest letter, direct from the heart. Wlhen she referred to Hugh Stanley at was merely as "the clergyman."

Friday was a day of fuss and bustle. Saturday was the day of flight to Brighton. A gjpell of glorious weather had set in—weather for holiday making, not for working. It

... Don't you ■•think this is delightful, Miss Tyndall? -Mr Mobberleyy asked. "If the weather lasts, we can almost live out of doors. There are daily trips by ?-oad to the show places, you know—.the Dyke, .Rottingdean, and lots of others; or Ave can go by steamboat to Portsmouth, Eastbourne, and Hastings; and there's always some fun going on—music and dancing." "And it's iso funny to see the people who are inclined to be seasick," Mrs Mobiberley put in. "For my part, I like to dose in w deck chair on the pier while the band is playing." , "Good heavens!" thought Elneth. "If I have to endure three weeks of this I shall go mad!" (To be Continued.)