A DEEP GAME. OR THE HONOUR OF THE TREVELLANS.
OUS SERIAL.
By Mrs Da V/lntsr Bak«r, i nn. a-„ narine " ''Sir Biandford's Protege®," 'For Author of Th© Sin of Cam®,
CHAPTER XLV—Continued. j
Cole looked at his watch. "An hour and a. half yet, ho an- - swcrc'd. "Do you think you are strong enough to go and mul Mis 0mor and bring her down go myself, but she might take iright. " Letlico jumped up hastily. , : "Of courso I am strong enough. But supposing she is down in taose > underground regions—ugh. 1 don t , think I could go back there by my- j self." '< "If you canuot lind her above the ( • <r,round, come back and tell me, ana we'll go together,' replied Cole; and, • with a little ncd of understanding, Lattice ran from the library. j For the sake cf the man she loved was anxious to bear "tliis stoiy in. full detail, and then—hey for London . , V ;v C l the strong arms that would enfold her again. „ , Instinct guided her footsteps first . of all, to the Black Room. She found J ■ the outer gate open and the inner j door ajar. Walking boldly in, she was ■ astonished to find a young girJ, silting alone, crying bitterly into her bauds.
rhe vision of grief touched Lettice s icart to the quick. She crept across md laid a hand on the weeping gill s shoulder. • "What is the matter? Wont you to'.l me?' she asked kindly. The fjirl started up and raised a tear-stained. Face at the question. At once Lettioe recfM/niscd the figure she had seen in the Lime Tree Walk . jThis then, wa& Margaret. There was a set, strained expression on tho girl's countenance. Her eyes, all wot, peered uncannily at her visitor. - , . , "Wlio are you?" she asked in a strained, expressionless voice. "Never mind who I am, dear. I know all about you. You are Margaret, aren't you? Won't you tell me what is troubling'you?" Tho sympathy in : Lettice's voice seemed 'to strike some responsive chord in the starved heart of the wretched girl. "It is my eyes," she said, and covered them again with lier hands. "The light hurts them—oh,so dread-, •fully, and my mother growls at me because I can't see properly.' She b—| b—beat me!" A renewed sob accompanied this T Instantly -Lettiee'saw what was the matter. This poor. creature had 'been living in darkness underground for goodness' knows how long, and now for some reason had been brought out of her iburrow -and subjected to the light of day. She glanced around the room and espied a rug on a little bed in the corner of the room. Stripping it off hastily she pinned it over the mullioned window. Vis. that- better now?" she asked, coming back and.taking the girl's hands in her own. "Oh—much better, thank-you. I can seo quite plainly now. You are • sjJ kind—and so pretty, miss. But ; mother will be angry—she would not let me make the room dark like that when I wanted to. The sobbing died away. Hand in hand the two girls sat in the darkened room. "Where is your mother, dear?" Lettice went 011 gently. "She was here just now, miss. She told me she was going away." j Lettice pricked up her ears at this news. Omer must not be allowed to slip away like this. "Is she coming back to see you before she goes?" "I think so, mass. She is going to hand over the . kitchen to 1110 be- , fore going." [ "Kitchen?" asked Lettice wonderiingly. "Yes, miss—down below, J mean. Perhaps you havo not been in the underground rooms?" Lettice smiled grimly to herself and glanrod i??rvoiisiy at the plush curtain in. the corner of tho room. Colo had tad h?r ail 1 •about tho secret door behind it. She rose now to go in search of Omer, but turned to Margaret before she left. "How long have you lived down in there?" she .asked. "As long as I can remember, miss." "And liow old .are you now?" ''Eighteen—mother savs.'' Buried alive for eighteen years! Lettice felt staggered at this hid«toils revelation, ®'S. she left tho room I once more ,and tripped down into the J corridor. At this moment, Grace 0ior, wearing a hat, and carrying a bag, came round the corner from tho dowager's room. .When she saw Lettice, a. vision of health and 'beauty in her ■white muslin frock, sho gasped .and fell back. Sho had supposed her erstwhile to bo safely in 'bed, and, indeed, had not time , to inako any enquiries about her, being too much occupied with her own plans for revenge upon her absconding brother. "Don't you think you owo me some explanation of your conduct, .Mrs 0mer?" Lettice greeted the advancing woman with a serious tone. "I shoulc like to have a talk with yon." Although momentarily deprived ol tho power of speech,Omer's nervo rapidly .returned under Lettice's quiot demeanour. "I haven't time," she replied. "F think you ca.n iind time if yov try." "What is it you want? You ar<
not going- to try and put the police on mo, are you P I warn you it will be tho worst day's work you ever did if yon go and make this mistake." "Xo —I fool quite sure that tho police will come on. their own in due time." There was not tho slightest traco of anger in Lett-ice's voice. The simplicity with which she uttered these words gavo them extra, force. Omer frowned defiantly. "Look here, Miss Laseelles—don't forget that I am still top dog!' she snarled. "Sir Eric lias run away and left you. Why? Because he can't stand the exposure of a little family scandal. Ho won't 'be pleased if you go prying into affairs that don't concern you. I warn you that von had better drop tho whole matter, for if you raise one linger .against me, I'll ruin Sir Erie for ever and ever. See here"—she fumbled in her pocket and produced a packet of letters —"these are my trump cards. You don't oven know what they are, and you'd be surprised if you did." "They are letters written to you by the late Sir Thomas Trevellan," answered Lettice calmly, while Omer gasped in astonishment. . "Oh —so you know the pretty story then?" "Sir Eric lias been noble enough to tell mo the story," corrected Lettice. "Ah —what do you think of it ? £ nice piece of gossip for the newspapers, eh?" , . . Lettice saw 'that they were drifting ] from the point. She _ wanted to get Omer down into the library and confront her with Cole. To this end she adopted a bold course. "I may say I don't 'believe a word of it," she said. Omer burst into a 'shrill cackle or laughter. , "Don't believe it ! You mean won t believe it. You 'are in love with Sir ■ Eric. Shall I show you these letters,. pray?" „ , "Yes —<but not here., Cojne. down into 'the library. ' We shan't be interrupted there." . _ . With fast beating heart Lettice led tho way down ixito the hall and to the library door. Standing aade to let Omer pass' in, she followed quickly and shut the door. , Colo rose from his armchair.
CHAPTER XLY ,Sm THOMAS TREVELLAN'S LETTERS. "This is a trick!" Omer turned hotily from Cole to Lettice, who had silently turned the key in the lock, u>nd now stood with lier back to the door. "Your experience of tricks makes you unduly suspicious, Mr.s Omei, retorted Cole, bowing politely. "I' ask you a few questions." "I shan't answer any, questions. "Because you are afraid, perhaps. "I'm not afraid of anyone." "Brave creature; I (really do auiniro your fortitude for staying here ,when that cowardly skunk of a brother Mark Jason, deserts you and runs away. By the bag you are carrying and" tho hat' you are wearing, I may venture to deduce that you were about to follow him when Miss Lascelles asked you to come down here. ' Omer stared helplessly. How much irftd this shewd-lrookinhg man kiiow. "Well, And what if I was? she asked, a little less indignantly this time. "How do you know he is my brother?" , . , "I don't profess to be a Sherlock Holmes, but as your daughter called him Uncle Mark, I presume he is. Need I say more?" x . , "Oh so vou have been trying to ! pump Margaret, eh? I know quite well what you are, Mr Norman Go e. You 'are one of those nosey,private detectives—ibrnt you won't get anything out of me." Despite her bravado Omer's fingers trembled over the packet of letters that .she still earned. "I think I shall," replied Cole very calmly. Keeping liis eyes fixed steadilv on lier face, lie advanced closer. "How much have you and your precious brother got out of Lady. TreTC - kn during all these years. lie a^ked suddenly. \ ■•„„+'• "I know what you are aiming at. Omer flinched beraath lus steady < nizc . ™But you caii prove nothing—nothing." She put Iter hands .behind her back and stared with fierces eyes. "I want to have- a look at those letters of the late Sii'Thomas- Trevellan " observed Cole. ' Omer thought her lttoviMTioivb 'hud escaped no it\. She started •angrily. I (To be Continued.)
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Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10570, 28 February 1912, Page 2
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1,542A DEEP GAME. OR THE HONOUR OF THE TREVELLANS. Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10570, 28 February 1912, Page 2
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