Thank you for correcting the text in this article. Your corrections improve Papers Past searches for everyone. See the latest corrections.

This article contains searchable text which was automatically generated and may contain errors. Join the community and correct any errors you spot to help us improve Papers Past.

Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image

A DEEP GAME. OR THE HONOUR OF THE TREVELLANS.

OUR SERIAL.

By Mrs De Winter Baker, Author of "The Sin of C^t'or' S \W?» n f£ rd ' B Prot * gee '" " For

CHAFFER XXTV —Continued. Haggard and weary, Lady Trevellan emerged from her bedroom to find hot .son waiting for her. In trepidation silie listened to his abrupt command, Pic ~ fp.ced by no affectionate greeting such as a son would greet his mother. She sank despairingly into the nearest chair. What blow was about to fall now. Why did her son so brusquely demand that she should send for Omer and JasonP At this moment Omer herself came in from the dowager's bedroom. The woman was undoubtedly taken by surpri.so to find Sir Eric in tttie turret room. She stared at him witlh an open frown. "()li! there's one of you at any ra'te. Where is Jason ?" _ ; "Beg pardon, sir, were you referring to me?" asked Ompr haughtily, i "Yes, I was." The retort was quick and angry. "I want Jason to oome here as well. Where is the precious ( scoundrel?" ! "I'm sure I don't know what you : mean, sir., I suppose Mr Jason is in ; the chape'- at his private devotions.' J Eric laughed in open scorn. His eye ( roaming round the room fell on tlhe faded bell pull. He tugged at it, taking care at the same time to place himself between Omer and t'he doorSeveral minutes elapsed., and Eric i Iliad pulled the bell-pull several times | before Mrs Parfitt herself, breathless, and in a state of alarm, presented a wthite face to the three people in the room. "Good morning, Mrs Parfitt." Sir Eric smiled nonchalantly. ''Sorry to bring you all this way up, but I want Mr Jason. Will you go and find hjm and tell him please, that her ladyship desires to see him atj once?." She bobbed her head and withdrew. There was silence in the room as die closed tlhe door behind her. Omer was scowling deeply, her eyes fixed on tlu> young man. She lolded her arms indignantly in front of her. Lady Trev- j ellan, ashy of countenance, gazed help-j lessly from her son "to her attendant and back again. Eric hummed a little tune softly to himself, beating time with his foot. He took care not to move from his position near the defer. The handsome clock on the mantelpiece had ticked out 'another five minI utes before the door was once more opened—silently this time. Jason prided himself on his catlike tread. Eric drew himself close up against, the wall as he heard t'he tread. The chaplain seeing only Grace Omer and the dowager in the room, now boldly entered, but directly lie was clear oi the lintel Eric banged the door to, and stood with his back to it. Jasou turned round at this sudden ance of a third party. The old sneer twitched upon his cold lips. "Ratiher dramatic, Sir Eric," ■ he remarked sullenly. But the look oil tihe young baronet's face caused him to cross to where Omer stood. He gave iier a quick look of interrogßftiw,. a§.. he" parsed,-as' much' as to say: "What is itjill about?" ' \ Sir Eric now put iisVhand his fppeket and drew out the piece, of white cambric. - "Omer and Jason!' he demanded curtly, "I desire to know who "Margaret" is? And you" —turning to Lady Trevellan —"if you know anything, please be good enough to enlighten me!" For a second or so there was silence. All eyes were turned to the questioner. Jason had caught sight of the little slip of cambric in Eric's hand. A rattling, raucous cackle suddenly burst from his lips. "Well —upon my word, I at least thought you were going to prefer a murder dharge''against us, with all this air of judicial solemnity, Sir Eric!" he spluttered. The young man fixed him with a stony stare of contempt. j "This is not a joke Jason," lie thundered. "You ought especially to realise this, for if I am not mistaken, j it is you who. know most about what I am asking!" "I? Really, Sir Eric? And pray,' jyliat do you accuse me of ?" —we'll waive the matter of accusation at present. I repeat my question 'Who is 'Margaret'?" Again the hoarse laugh burst from the chaplain. He appeared.to be doubled up with mirth now. "What makes you ask me that, Sir Eric?" he spluttered between chuckles "Oh, stop your ridiculous noise, Jason. You know perfectly well why I ask. I want to know who tihe mysterious figure in white is that roams the Lime Tree Walk at midnight, and sheds handkerchiefs embroidered with the name "Margaret"?" Had Eric Wen a less honest, bluff, straightforward man —more versed in the wiles of which Jason and Omer were past masters —he would have seen at once that tliis was a leading question, arid, as such, fraught with much valuable information to the other side. But ius anxiety to get to the iKvttom of the whole affair, coupled i with his annoyance at the chaplain's ill-timed mirth, causing him to blurt forth the question unthinkingly, and with considerable asperity. It was with an air of re'iof tiiar 0-mc-r observed Jason's The lVi-'iness with which In h;\d taker- up Eric'is questions proved that lie had something up his sleeve. She was quite content to stand back and let him do all the talking. With restless eyes the ; dowager watched the contestants of this battle of words and wits. Ounliing and treachery were pitted against honesty and determination —which would prove victorious ? i

"Oh —so you have seen her then?" Jason revealed his teeth in a sly grin. "Most certainly I have, and so has Miss Lascelles. Don't try to put me eff-by any childish ghost stories, Jason.Ghosts do not drop pocket handkerchiefs. Do you recognise this? Was this not what, you Mere looking for so anxiously the other morning in the Lime Tree Walk?" "Why—who found that?" The chaplain walked forward in well-sim-ulated surprise.. Indeed, a good deal of his surprise was genuine, for he had no idea that Lett-ice had picked up the handkerchief and made it over to her lover. "Ah, it surprises you, doesn't it Miss Lascelles found it in the Lime Tree Walk and gavo it to me. Now— I w&ntfc to know who it belongs to, and why you were so keen 011 finding it tho other morning?" "If you will permit me I will return it to its owner at once, Sir Eric." Jason held out his hand.

"Oh no, you don't!" Tho young man laughed harshly. "But I assure you, Sir Eric, there is no need for you to be suspicious. I will return the handkerchief to the owner in .front of you ,and now and here."

Omer started back at these words. She fancied sllie saw Jason's game. "Wha —what do yon mean?" asked Sir Eric.

"Give me the handkerchief; I will show you,' said Jason. The young man slowly handed over the ball of crumpled cambric. With an exaggerated bow, Jason crossed over and presented it to Omer.

"Permit me to restore your lost property," 111© said. "No wonder I failed to find it the other morning. Evidently Miss Lascelles forestalled me." 'His 'back was turned to Eric. The young (man-did not see him nudge her and wink meaningly.

"Bu—- but her name is Grace —the (handkerchief is marked 'Margaret,' " ihe stammered. In an instant -the meaning of Jason's wink flashed in upon Omer. She stepped forward bold"Excuse me, sir, I am called 'Grace Omer' by her ladyship, and that is the name by whidh I am known in the castle. But my full name is Grace Margaret Omer, and in private life I prefer tlhe second name myself. No objection, I trust?" Eric stared, open-mouthed. "You?' he gasped. "Bait Miss Lascelles said it was a young girl tibat sllie saw, and I thought so myself!" Grace Omer drew 'hereelf up indignantly. "Indeed, I was not aware that I am so very old, Sir Eric!" The young baronet blushed shamefacedly. This-'.clever sally of Outer's - abashed him. "But what on earth do you want to .go out for these midnight walks for?" he went on, quickly changing the.subject. "And why do you disappear into thin air, so to speak? Didn't you hear me running after you last nighft ?'' taking & breath of fresh air, and I suppose you. were doing the same. I don't see how you caA'blame ihe, seeing that I'm cooped up in the castle all day. But as. to vanishing into! thin air, I don't- know what you mean. I went out and came in by the door in the west wing, as I always do. '' . So this was the solution to the supposed mystery. It was Omer herself! .Why, tSien, had 'Lottie© not recognised the woman? Sir Erie wondered. He himself had failed to catch a glim]>se of the woman's face Last night. Then lie recollected that Lettice would undoubtedly be .alarmed at the vision, especially ias she liaid been only a few 'hours in the castle when She saw- it. No wonder s4he had not ■ recognised 0mer, poor girl f All eyes were fixed upon the young man now, arid suddenly he became a- ■ ware of the fact that he had succeeded in making a monumental ass of himself. With a half-mumbled, halfspoken apology he turned and left the room. Had he been addicted to spying or listening at keyholes, he might have seen-that Jasou smiled delightedly,and that Omer said : "Well done; that was splendid." But Eric .was neither spy or eavesdropper, Moreover, ho just remembered that the post bag would be in from- Bickleigh Station about this time. . Like the wind he Hew down! the stairs and into the ball where- he clutched the leather wallet eagerly.

Permanent link to this item
Hononga pūmau ki tēnei tūemi

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/WAG19120210.2.3

Bibliographic details
Ngā taipitopito pukapuka

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10556, 10 February 1912, Page 2

Word count
Tapeke kupu
1,640

A DEEP GAME. OR THE HONOUR OF THE TREVELLANS. Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10556, 10 February 1912, Page 2

A DEEP GAME. OR THE HONOUR OF THE TREVELLANS. Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10556, 10 February 1912, Page 2

Help

Log in or create a Papers Past website account

Use your Papers Past website account to correct newspaper text.

By creating and using this account you agree to our terms of use.

Log in with RealMe®

If you’ve used a RealMe login somewhere else, you can use it here too. If you don’t already have a username and password, just click Log in and you can choose to create one.


Log in again to continue your work

Your session has expired.

Log in again with RealMe®


Alert