HELD IN BONDAGE.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10515, 3 January 1912, Page 2

HELD IN BONDAGE.

QUE SERIAL.

BY L. F. I>ACIIE. Author of "Sifibad'fi Valley," A Phaatom of the Fast," "The Shadow of Shame," "Sir Joho'a "A - Daughter of Mystery," etc.

CHAPTia XVl—Continued

'•Really!" Patrick "Ward laughed yr.eeringly. '"ls that the most tc^;i g shot in your iocker? George my agents nave not been idle, so thac L shall know bou to answer you ii: offence. The babe in diplomacy may have a. surprise for the past master in ro~ gvery." . There was no reply for a mmute. Patrick Ward's manner and bone conveved a moaui ig of subtle sign! lie nice. '"Then it is to be war betweoi US'" Aston shouted at last. "War to the very uttermost. I shall equip my works here for the building of mv new aeroplane, and what is m'.re I slua.ll build it. I have no desire to play double, or to deprive you of auy-" of the benefits due to you under,o'ur agreement. I simply wish tojhgive the creation of my brain dev&toped and completed under my owif eyes. It is useless to storm and' rave. You are not playing wi%.a' woman now, George Aston. If it.comes to a personal encounter between us,. I am quite ready to demonstrate the skill and strength thjat is mine in a physical sense. I've beard of your miany assaults upon your I f workmen; your cruelty to women, hiorI ses and dogs. If you care to tackle a | man, I am itching to teach you a sion. I have wanted to do it for lon.g years, you brute-beast, you bully, yoii coward." Margaret waited in an agony of fear and expectation. And, o'h, how her heart throbbed.—throbbed with admiration of the man who was master of George Aston. There was no scmn4 0f rushing foci, of an IFS! blows, Aston wtas speaking, i'J am' not. Here to emulate a pothouse brawl, and I ignore your insults. I merely want my rights, and if we cannot come to a minimal agreement, then the law must decade. I will give you a week to think it over before beginning suit." "You will leaVe my.house, please, never to enter it again. If I find you on the premises again without my invitation, I shall treat you as I should any other prowling thief.'' George Aston did not answer at once and Margaret wondered that this man whom she had deemed so terrible, should be so easily tamed. "Go on —go on." he said presently. "Heap up your abuse. One otlher matter, then I shall slhake the dust of this infernal place forever.. When I passed that window yonder I saw a woman in . this room. Who is she?" "A woman? What rubbish you talk. The study door wias locked." "I tell you that I was not —I could not b© mistaken. I stopped at the window, seeing someone at work aft the table. It was a woman, and she looked me full in the face." "Visions. Perhaps you have been drinking hard as you did in the first flush of our success. There I *.was no woman here. You saw that the door was locked. This is the only way of escape." "There's the safe!" suggested As- { ton.

went to the door of the safe, and tapping it with his knuckles, said : "Miss Thornton, aro you there? Aston has gone, and there is nothing to tear." Tha key turned in the lock and Margaret stood revealed, white-faced and palpitating. She staggered into the larger room, and shielded her eyes for ■a moment from the dazzling light. Patrick Ward put out a ha-nd to steady her. "There —there; sit down," he said. "I feel like strangling that ruffian. In certain circumstances I believe that murder is justifiable." Margaret sat down and took a deep, quivering breath before speaking. She .looked up at Patrick Ward unfalteringly, half defiantly, "You knew that I was there all the I time?"

"Also locked, and tiho key in my pocket. You see, I have to take precautions." ,

George Aston fidgeted with his feet, tlhen passed one hand over his eyes. "I tell yon I saw her. You have, a secretary or typisit or sometliing—perhape it was she?" "Again I say it is utterly impossible —my assistant lias gone off to Deal to send same telegrams."

"What is she like?. What- is her name?" Patrick Ward was silent for a few moments, then he said: "These questions are most impertinent and I don't see why I should answer tJhem, unless you give me good and sufficient reason." "The woman I believed I saw standing: at the t'<able is named Thornton — or perhaps I should say girl—for she is quite young. She ran away from Birmingham, en bezzlement or something of the hind. The police have a warrant for her arrest. As she is the daughter of a ti.o case has attracted a good deal of attention. As a matter of fact she was my secretary, and I am the suffer?); to tho tur.e of seventy odd pounds' 1 Margaret was shaken with a mixture of horror, detestation and fury. Oil, the contemptible liar! ''S/he is bad, through and through!" finished Aston. A coquette—an adShe has ruined the ho ne of one family." "I .am busy to-day and have -in invalid wife, Mr Aston, u J ho is waiting for me to: go up to her. This persnr ymi have in your ' lie f i iV g! est 111(3 11 llMl© Mi; ,My aksist&iiit is elderly and iier iiiilrie is Williams. Be as goqd a*> to ie&Vo OKtt House at once, now'

"One \VV:'ek, remember, and if 1 do nob teeft satisfaction, you will hear lawyers. Good clay."

Patrick Ward did not reply, except by a contemptuous shrug of his shoulders. Then lie arose from tihe oliair and walked to the window. It commanded a view of a lone; bend of the drive, and lie watched until he could just see the figure of George Aston appear and disappear in the direction of the lodgo and the road beyond. "Alh!" .ho muttered. "How I loathe that man! The Bible says 'love your enemies.' There were no George Astons when that was written." He glanced at t!he door of the safe, made two steps forward, then stood iiTesolute. The scornful, vengeful eyes were now giowing with a tender, half-saddened Mght. He listened there was no sound, not even the rus--1 tie of papers, and the floor was littered with them. Anxiety decided Mm; he

"I knew that it was impossible for you to bo anywlhere else, unless you'd flown up the chimney. It was that very knowledge that upheld my courage. Aston is a bigger man than me, and lias the reputation of being, a figfhiter. I should like to have the pleasure of thrashing him, though, as there is an old score between us that has never been settled."

"You lied for me. .My name is not Williams, rieitiher am I elderly." "I would db a great deal more than that for you." • ''But do you believe that I ever stole money or anytMng ?'' "Now, is it possible ? The cunning scoundrel knew tlnat you were hiding in the safe , and he said those things in the hope that you would betray yourself." •'W 1

Margaret's tlhroat was dry. She" looked awfiy, for an instant and then looked back again, "And now, Mi* Ward, wliat do you think of it all ? What do you intend doing with me?" , He looked down at her, a tender smile playing about his lips,'"a tender light in has eyes.

"What do I think? That is there is something between you and George Aston, but I haven't the haziest notion what it is, and I am not going to inquire unless you feel inclined to give me your confidence. lam satisfied in my own mind that it would not be possible for you to' do anything very wrong." . ''Thank you!" breathed Margaret. ' "I trust you all in all," he said soft•ly.

"Don't —oh, dont!" The look in his eyes w,as a revelation, and she made a gesture of acute pain. She rose from her dfoair. "I will think over what you have said, Mr Ward, and perhaps I will tell you my trouble. Edith. Janson said I ought to, but " "You will please yourself. lam not in tlhe least inquisitive. I could no more doubt your truth and honour than I could doubt the existence of the sun and stars."

Margaret gave him one grateful glance, left the study, and groped her way to her room.

Patrick Ward stood in the doorway and watched her.

CHAPTER XVIII. THE NEWSPAPER ADVERTISEMENT. * Alf Maxwell was going to the dogs utterly. 7 Dieu he knew that Margaret was indifferent to the drastic measures that George Aston was taking, he lost all heart in tlie strong defence that his lawyers were preparing. He paid their fees to date and proposed to drop out of the fight. Then he wasted his time, his health, and the remnant of his moral character in drinking saloons, billiard rooms, and music lialls. 1 He was not vicious in any sense of the, -word; he was no coward, but he was weak-willed, nervous and high-strung. An only son, a mother's idol, and his mother was always blind to his faults;

ian ambitious father, Who had forced the boy into a profession for which he was unfitted. The restilt was a moral and physical wreck, now that ho knew liow hopeless was his passion for Margaret Thornton. One morning Edith Janson met him 111 the Strand. • She had been to the office of her paper to deliver some work, and was gazing rather abstractedly at til).©' shop windows, wJieii fjlle saw Ills

reflection beside hers. He was making

an effort to adjust his tie, and the window was his mirror. She turned and faced him and the change for the worse in his appearance gave her a nninfill shock, "Mr Maxwell I' > ' "Oh, how do you do, Miss J&nson. "I am quite well, thank you; but how about yourself ?" ■He laughed foolishly: .. , "1 feel like a boiled owl t if I must speak the truth. Aren't you going to shake hands with me?" "I hardily like to s.peak to you in a Crowded thoroughfare," she answered sharply. "I am shocked, disgusted." ''Just as you,like," lie said huffly. I've bnly been, to a card party—.progressive whist, and a fellow can't look like new paint after being up all night." "Oh, but your clothes—your very atmosphere reeks of tobacco smoke and mixed drinks." "You seem to know all about it," he sneered. "To my sorrow 1 do. My work puts 1110 in touch with men who earn from "twelve to fifteen pounds a week, and yet haven't) a decent coat to tlheir backs, and live in squalid lodgings. Their principal address is a drinking saloon—as I. should judge your own must be." (To bo Continued.)