OUTPOST IN CHINA

Wairarapa Times-Age, 29 June 1940, Page 10

OUTPOST IN CHINA

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT. COPYRIGHT.

By

VAL GIELGUD.

CHAPTER XIII. There was no active resentment in Sheila’s voice as she replied—merely a weary exasperation, far more trying to Gerald's overwrought nervous system. “One must amuse oneself somehow,” she said. “I’m glad you find this conversation amusing,” retorted Gerald sarcastically. 'lf you want to know, it bores me to death! And I’m worried enough as it is,” he added in a low voice. “Why?” asked Sheila. “I’m sure the padre will back you up against General Wu with all the armoury of the Church militant! By the way, it might be useful to remember what Leslie said about Wu —that spirits were his weak point. I’ve put the whisky handy in case ” “I'm not bothering about Wu!” interrupted her husband. The mere mention of Leslie Dale’s name had flicked him like the cut of a whip. “I'm going to settle with him all right.” “That,” said Sheila, picking up a novel “is a great comfort.” Gerald lost his temper. “You see,” he flared, “you don’t believe I can! You sneer at everything I try to do! At every effort I make to pull things round! That’s what’s worrying me to death! It s you! Sheila looked at him in amazement. To do her justice it must be admitted that until that moment she had not realised the length to which Gerald's feelings of self-pity and humiliation were likely to drive him. A very genuine pity rose up in her as she appreciated the changes in his face: the haggard, hollowed cheeks, the restless burning eyes; hands and lips that were never still.

“Don’t work yourself up, Gerry,” she said quietly. “You asked for it, you know. If you’d followed my wishes we’d have been back in Shanghai weeks ago. “Your wishes. You mean that I don’t love you an' more?” Sheila shrugged her shoulders and sighed. “What’s gone wrong, Sheila?” He crossed the room, and kneeled beside her chair, clutching at her arms as though he sought reality in the movement, so desperate in his intensity that he did not notice the faint involuntary shrinking away from him of the girl’s whole body. “Can”, you give me another chance? I know I was pretty foul to you the day that Dale went—but I’ve apologised enough for that surely? We could be happy here, if only we made the effort and pulled together. It wasn’t so bad at first. But when you keep away and never say a word to me except to ask for the butter —what do you expect me to fee! like? It's been—”

His voice broke, and his head fell forward on to the hack of his hands. The girl’s heart twitched. She hadn’t known it had been as bad as that! She had been too wretched herself. “We shan't do any good by discussing it,’" she said in a low voice. Gerald drew up his head . “We must,” he cried out. “I want things right again—to Hades with Tan Fu—but between us! If I could be certain that the place was the only thing between us. I'd chuck it up tomorrow and take you down river!” “Nonsense!” “But I won’t chuck it up just as a sop to your vanity!” Sheila felt herself as somehow being put absurdly in the wrong. She made a valiant effort to re-establish her case according, and made a false move. “You were tired of me before we ever came to Tan Fu," she said. “That’s a lie and you know it,” retorted Gerald fiercely. “You never loved me as I loved you when we wore married—and as I still love you! I don’t blame you for that. I know I’m not much of a fellow, nothing like good enough for you. But I swore to make something of myself for your sake, and with your backing. All I’ve done is to make you despise me for failing.” The girl put a hand on his cheek for a moment. “I don’t despise you. Gerry, half as much as I hate myself.” “What do you mean by that?” “ T ’m worse than just a second-rate. Gerry. I’m third-rate. I know that I’ve failed you worse than you’ve failed me. But you're sorry for your failure. I’m not.” “Sheila!" "It's true. I'm simply rather flat, and very tired, and so bored that I could scream! I wish I could help you —that we could kiss and make it up. and work together again, and live happily ever after—but I can’t. It doesn’t seem to matter particularly." There was a dawning horror in his eyes as he stared at her. “But it's our whole life.” he stammered pitifully. Sheila said nothing, and with her silence Gerald felt as if fingers of ice were closing slowlv, inexorably round his heart, freezing from it for ever all things lovely and happy and of good report. He got to his feet and turned away | so that she should not see the working of his face. “Til take you back to Shanghai." he said dully. Outside the windows in the dusk a little wind was rising, and the branches of the tree overhanging the verandah rasped against the shutters. Sheila rose in he” turn. “Thank you. Gerry, she said. Her voice was not quite steady. "You did I that magnanimously. Honestly I ap-1 preciate it as a gesture. But I'm I afraid it’s too late for that simple solu-l tion. Why on earth couldn't you have ! let Leslie Dale stav- on here and taken I me away?" she cried out suddenly, j Gerald's face darkened. "What s Dale got to do with it J Sheila? If he shows up here again I I'll shoot him like a dog.” ! His lips had gone very dry. and he

Author of “Africa Flight” and Part Author of “Death at Broadcasting House.”

moistened them furtively with his tongue. “My dear Gerry,” Sheila said slowly and deliberately, "pull yourself together. Take a look at yourself.” Gerald looked about him desperately. Over his wife’s shoulder he caught sight of his own reflection in a little mirrow on the wall, framed in bamboo. He saw, with a hideous clarity, the face of a weak-lipped sweating boy, all control and dignity flung aside, indulging in a puerile display of melodrama .... He moved av ay, and noticed a little bronze ash-try lying on the corner of the desk. With a swift move- | ment he picked it up, and flung it at that face which stared at him out of the mirror. Sheila screamed. There was a splitntering smash, a tinkle of falling glass, and the tension in the room relaxed as Gerald dropped limply into a i chair. I Sheila went to him, and put an arm round his heaving shoulders. i “Nothing’s as bad as it seems, you know, my dear,” she said softly. “Don’t worry about me—l’m not worth it.” Gerald hid his face in his hands. “Leave me alone.” he whispered. Sheila looked up and saw Patrick James standing in the doorway. CHAPTER XIV. “May I come in. Mrs Havelock?" asked the missionary. “Janet’s expecting you, by the way.” He seemed to have noticed nothing out of the ordinary, though Sheila fancied that his heavy eyebrows had lifted slightly at the broken glass on the floor beneath the mirror frame. “I know I'm late —Gerald hasn’t been very fit today,” said Sheila hastily. “Now you’ve come I’ll go right away.” "I hope the patient hasn’t been violent,” said James cheerfully. “Has he been breaking up the happy home?” Gerald lifted a haggard face, and the missionary’s smile died off his lips. “That was me, I’m afraid,” said Sheila, picking up the fallen ash-tray. “Buck up, Gerald. Good luck with your meeting.” She nodded to James, and went out quickly along the verandah. The missionary walked over to Gerald’s chair and looked down at him sympathetically. “Really seedy, Gerald?” “No, no, I’m all right—just a bit worried about all this racket, you know.” James pulled out a rather battered pipe, and proceeded to stuff tobacco into its bowl with his big gnarled fingers. “Well, we shan’t be long now before we know the worst,” he said reassuringly. “And your wife will be quite safe with Janet,” , “It’s kind of her,” said Gerald. “You’ll both have some dinner here when Wu’s gone. I hope.” “Thank you,” said James. “We should like to.” He lit his pipe, and puffed noisily. “D’you think Wu will see reason?” • asked Gerald after a few moments of companionable silence. “That rather depends,” said the missionary gravely, “on the way it’s put to him.” Gerald bit his lip. “You mean it depends on me?” “Frankly.” said Patrick James, looking at him keenly, “it does.” “And frankly,” retorted Gerald bitterly, “you haven’t much confidence in the outcome!” “I don’t see why you should say that. Gerald.” “Well, it’s pretty obvious," said Gerald, hardly bothering to disguise a sneer, "that I’m not up to coping with a situation—-as Dale was, for example!" But Patrick James was not a highlystrung girl to allow himself to be easily irritated. Also he had a good deal of liking and sympathy for Gerald Havelock. “Dale’s a lot older than you are,” he said soothingly. "And he knows China exceptionally well for an Englishman." Gerald mustered up a smile. • “Your tact, padre, covers a multitude of sins,” he said . In his turn James smiled. “Surely a large part of my job,” he suggested. “I wish,” muttered Gerald Havelock, “that I could put mine in a nut-shell like that.” James leaned forward, crossing his long legs. “You mustn't get discouraged my dear Gerald. You’ve had bad luck all along in getting the station just when the Japanese row has put the whole country on the jump. Dale had very ! little anti-foreign feeling to deal with i Besides, you and I share one advantage that he never had, poor devil!” “And what’s that?” “He never had the luck to find a woman to face coming up here with him like Janet, or your Sheila.” There was a little pause. Then Gerald burst into a roar of laughter, which somehow had nothing of amusement in its ugly sound. “Why laugh?" asked James, showing signs of annoyance. "My dear padre," retorted Gerald, “you’ve succeeded in showing me the tunny side of my depression. I've got ray sense of humour back. I can’t easily say how grateful 1 feel." James looked puzzled. But further awkward double meanings were interrupted by the distinct clatter of horses’ hoofs approaching al a quick trot out of the quickly-gathering darkness. “V/u for a dollar" said James. “Now for it." He turned towards the verandah and so failed to see that Gerald Havelock’s! final act of preparation for his guest was to take an automatic pistol from a drawer in his desk, and thrust it into the pocket of his jacket. i (To be Continued). '