Silas Dennington's Money.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10685, 12 July 1912, Page 2

Silas Dennington's Money.

BY F. L.-DACRE. Author of "He-Id in Bondage," "A Phaatoir of the John's Heiress," "l'fc€ Shadow of .Shares," ' L 1 a ureter cl My iff ry," etc.

OUR SERIAL.)

CHAPTER XlX.—Continued. *

"DEAR—DEAR JACK: I am not going to write any fibs to you, simply because I could not, under any circumstances. Wo aro not having a lively time, and J wish that we had never left England. The cruise has been rJI right for those who like it. But it was against my better judgment that I accented Lord Circhestor's invitation. * The opportunity seemed so good at the time, and would save us heaps of money. The yacht- put into Sydney harbour for supplies, and we are now (Grantley and I) located at the Victoria Hotel, where we intend to remain until you can cable the money to enable us to como home. I will never set foot on Circhestor's yacht again. "Would you believe it, Jack, the wretch dared to make love to me, aid my husband his guest, and half dead at the time! You must know that Circhestor was an old lover of mine. Of course, Grantley knows nothing about it.

"1 have persuaded Grantley |o come home and ma"ke a clean breast of everything, and he will never know any peace of mind until he has done He sits and stares, and broods, and mutters your name, until I feel ready to scream. y

"Now I think I have some really capital news. As you knew, we brought two servants with us—Tonks, the cheffeur, and my maid. Tonks is a most useful and ingenious fellow, and he nurses looks after his master as cleverly as a professional. Well, he will prove to be a most powerful factor in helping to clear up your dreadful trouble. "It seems that he witnessed the struggle between Grantley and your unfortunate cow.boy cousin, and yet he never opened his lips until yestei-. day. The cowboy was drunk, and attacked Grantley, threatening to shoot him: They closed, and the man shot himself in the tussle. There you have' the simple truth., "I have just sufficient money to pay the hotel bill, and I think that I can manage to get the lot of us home if you send about two hundred pounds. Don't lose any time, there's a good fellow. , 111 "Your devoted sister and chum, "MADGE."

(<p / g__jJ ve written quite a different story to my father—not that you and he are likely to meet, though."

Jack pressed the letter to his lips, murmuring: "Good old Madge!" The news was good in a way—splendid! But two hundred pounds! At that moment he knew that he was not possessed of two hundred shillings. Ihe cheque to Mr Grant would practically absorb his balance at the bank. It was annoying—aggravating, and he nad actually used a lot of his brother s money." Cheques were coming in pretty regular now, but every penny was wanted to finance the new paper. If Madge's letter had only readied him yesterday morning! But it had not, and what was the use of looking back? She would have to wait a week—perhaps two weeks. But he would cable to her. Something pleasant and hopeful. He folded the letter and placed it in his pocket. Now came Wayman's turn. He paid a little attention to Wayman's effervescence. Half a dozen letters a week filled with nothing; pages of bad jokes and nonsensical suggestions, irritating to the business mind'. He opened the envelope mechanically, and took out a half sheet of not paper on which was scrawled: —

"Caution! All is discovered, fly once!"

Jack's brow darkened, and lie muttered something unprintable. "I'll fire the infernal fool! He's a perpetual thorn in my side. What does he mean? The writing is distorted and diguised, while than on the envelope is unmistakable. Bah!" He was still glowering over the paper when something occurred that was as delightful as it was unexpected. Rosamund stood before him, looking as sweet and fresh as the morning.

"Gracious," exclaimed Jack, "am I seeing visions? What brings you out at this time of morning, sweetheart?' Really, it isn't safe. There are scores of desperate hun.an derelicts crouching in the by-ways, and even here this is the only seat not occupied by ■some, of the unfortunates. No, you mustn't sit down here. Look how wet the seat is." "Let's take a walk. Father won't miss me, as lie sleeps soundly until 7 o'clock. Jack, I followed you here; from my window I saw. y«u leave the office, and have something to tell you." "I wish there weren't so many eyes watching us," Jack whispered adoringly. "Don't be stupid. Have you really forgiven me for being cross last evening."

"But it was I who was cross." "But I vexed you, Jack, and I did not mean to."

"I wanted that picture to treasure it; but you will draw another, won't you, something that "

"Yes —yes," Rosamund hastily interrupted. "I was going to suggest the very same thing, and I shall have heaps of time on my hands now that we are going away." Her lips trembled, arid her soft brown eyes were turned up to his al-

rr.ost sorroAvfully. "Going away?" Jack rq:ested, iiis lioart sinking. "At once—to-day. Dad made up his muni last night, ami I hare already done half the packing. I don't know where we are going, but it will be near the sea, and I will write to you as soon as we are settled." , ~0 ii!" Jack said blankly. ' "And, Jack " She*laid an imploring hand upon his arm. i "I'm prepared for anything." I "Don't mind very much what dad said last night, or what he may say to-day. He is going to see you, to give you the key of the shop, s o that you i can remove the things when you want to." There was the suspicion of a sob in her voice. "Dad is very strange in his manner, and he forbids me to do J any more drawings for your paper. He says that there is no necessity for anyI thing of the kind, as he can make me ( an ample allowance now." j "Out of my, money!" blurted Jack. "I see. Oh, it's all very fine! What an ass I've been. I've burned my ships for nothing—for nothing? To my own absolute undoing! I've parted with my little fortune so that 1 might be nearer to you, and the result is complete separation." Rosamund was crying now. "It's horrid, Jack, but I will never give you up! He wants me to do that, and calls mo a selfish, unnatural child to dream of leaving him in his old age. I know that lie loves me, and clings to me, and he's jealous of everything and everybody that—that " "They were pacing along very slowly, and Jack came to a halt. He was utterly dazed. And this was what he had beggared himself for! "But I won't —I won't!" Rosamund \ said hysterically. "Won't what?" "You know that I shall kwe you foiv ever, Jack. Don't take any notice of what dad. may say. I feel that I must prepare you. Promise, mo Jack. And I will write to you in a day or two. . Now I must go back home." Jack suddenly flung his •arms round ] her slight figure, and kissed her lips . passionately. ' He didn't care for the ' grins of passing workmen. 'All right," he said, brightening up. "I was a bit shocked and angry at first. lam being urfeited with a variety of surprise packets lately! I will not see your father. I'll be out or engaged. He can give the key to Brown, or the publisher. I quite understand, darling." "Oh, Jack, how, good you are." She raisetPher shining eyes to his. As they walked back to Nether St. !he told her of Madge Bennington's letter, and the prospect of sunny skies i behind the dark clouds. "Here's the letter, but there's too much of it to read now. She sends hor love to-you somewhere in the middle of it. Of course, there's bound to ;be a bit of a r-umpus, but when its nv°'' it-will be forgotten in a month." They stopped at the door of-the old curiosity shop,' and spoke in whispers. Another kiss, another embrace, thrice repeated, and then Rosamund quietly I let herself into the house, tearfully ! waving a last farewell to her lover bei fore she closed the door. ] Jack drew down the blind in his sitting room window when Mrs Garland had finished her morning duties, and . gave explicit instructions downstairs that he was "out" if Mr Theodore j Grant called. -Mrs Garland had tear- ; 'fully bemoaned the sudden flight of j the Grants. .-It meant to her the loss several shillings a week, . and she j could ill afford it, there was so little ' work to be had.

! "Rest easy," Jack said, "I'll more I than make it up. I'm pining for a I breath of country air, and if von can ! accommodate me comfortably I'M make a start to-night. Tooting used to be all right.when I was a boy. How., much must I pay you ? Bed and breakfast —say, a pound a week. Will that do? I'm getting tired of living in this bohemian style. h Mrs Garland returned homo that morning a happy woman. About noon Theodore« Grant crossed over 'to the office, and asked for Mr Ca'stlemaine. Brown told him that Mr Castleniaine was away for the day. The old man was not displeased, and drew a long breath of relief. "I am going," he said, with a wave of the hand, "and I thank God for it! Here's the key of the MrCastlemaine will understand. Tell him to look for a letter from me." He left the office, and within sixty seconds Jack knew what had passed, jHe smiled 1 - rather sadly, and ' posted himself at the window, peeping between the blind and the framework, i The door of the side .entrance was standing open, and a man was carrying luggage downstairs. Trunk's and bags «f all sorts. When he had finished there was a little mountain stacked against the passage wall. Then he sat on the doorstep and mopped his perspiring face with a big bandannahandkerchief. Suddenly the blinds went down at all the windows—one at a time, and Jack's heart gave a jump. The hand that lowered them was Rosamund's, but he dared not show him- ' self. , . .

(To "be Continued)