OUTPOST IN CHINA

Wairarapa Times-Age, 3 July 1940, Page 10

OUTPOST IN CHINA

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

COPYRIGHT.

By

VAL GIELGUD.

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

CHAPTER XVIII. s (Continued.) Sheila crossed to the door leading to 0 the servants’ quarters and called for 1 the house-boy to bring dinner at once, - but Leslie checked her with a gesture. :, "No good interfering with you din- ‘ ner, Sheila. I’ve no lime for that. I ’• must borrow Gerald's pony and get oft' s to see old Wu.” " “No, Leslie —no!” ” The girl’s face was white to the lips. 7 In the shadows behind her beside the sideboard, Janet James nodded grim - approval. < "Of course, I must,” said Leslie. 1 quietly. “I’ll fill a flask if I may, and > pocket it. There’s nothing to worry ’ about if I can get to the hills before ’ Wu starts down.” “I'm glad you're not going to disappoint me. Leslie," said Janet James. "It's quite simple.” he said. "I mus. see Wu tonight and scare him —withou. making him lose face. Otherwise thi:; place will be just a mess tomorrow night. We've nothing to fight him with, you know. Of course. I mus. go.” “But he'll kill you!” “Sheila, Wu will fall on my neck! .He quite likes me, you know. Ol course, he may search my pockets, in which case he’ll be disappointed.” And, with a wry smile, Dale turned out the contents of his pockets on the nearest table —three letters, five dollars, a pipe, an empty tobacco-pouch, and a small automatic pistol made an untidy and unimposing collection. “How can you make jokes about it?” Sheila demanded. She felt angry, and frightened, and above everything else lonely. She had thought that Leslie Dale had come back to take her away from this comfortless desolation which she had come to loathe. And now she saw that, as always with men, the ruling passion was his work. Everything else was incidental in comparison with the emergency of Wu’s threat to Tan Fu. Leslie Dale was Agent in Charge again. He was on the job. And no one and nothing was going to interfere or tie his hands. And Janet James stood in the background, representative of an ; older and tougher generation of wo- , men —in spite of their conventional!- , ties and inhibitions —and approved, j Women like her believed that a man > should put his job first . . . "Tan Fu must be saved, Sheila,” j Leslie was saying. t Dale turned away towards the side- j board, where Janet Janies, with the £ deftness born of long experience and A common sense, was making up a small f packet of chocolate, an envelope con- f taining cigarettes and matches, and filling a flask with whisky. ( “Here you are, Leslie. Good luck, |- and good hunting!" ( Leslie Dale stowed the various things g about his person, looking .now and r again at Sheila while he did so. But j, Sheila did not move. "Thank you, Janet. Au revoir, ,

Sheila. Tell Gerald I’ve got his pony, and that I’ll see you both in the morn - ing, if all's well.” o “Goodbye,” said Sheila tonelessly. r Janet put a hand for a moment on Dale’s sleeve. He gave her rather a x forced smile, and walked quickly out - again into the darkness. It was bareI ly a quarter of an hour since he had T arrived . . . CHAPTER XIX. As the sound of the pony's hoves ’• clattered away in the distance, Sheila e turned on Janet James like a tiger-cal. !1 “How could you? How could you?” she cried out. ■■ “I'm sorry to have made free with ’ your goods,” said Janet coldly, “but he’ll need something. It's a long ride r; out to the hills.” “I suppose,” Sheila went on fiercely. “that you encouraged him to go be- ■ cause you think he'd be better dead, - than here.” "I think,” said Janet, “that you're being the least bit in the world selfcentred. I was thinking of Tan Fu.” 1 "I'd burn the cursed place myself, if I could!” Sheila went on. “I hate it!” "I don’t blame you for that," Janet retorted. "You don't belong here. You ■ owe the place nothing. It's difl'erenl with Leslie —and with Pat and with me. It happens to be our job you see." For a moment Sheila dropped her head into her hands. Then she looked up again. “How you hate me really!” she said in a low voice. "I told you I disapproved of you in a place like this," said Janet. "I do. But that's all there is to it. What you can't get over, my dear Sheila, is that you don't matter to me—any more than I matter to you. Let Pat know that we're dining at home after all, will you?” Sheila laughed mirthlessly. “By all means stay if you like,” she said. “I don't think plain speaking makes the best sort of cocktail,” said Janet James, for once being almost epigrammatic. And she left the house, feeling a litle uneasy in her own mind that she had perhaps been unreasonably hard on a girl whose only basic failings were the inexperience of youth and the selfishness almost inseparable from good looks far beyond the ordinary. Left to herself. Sheila Havelock lighted a cigarette and prowled neurotically up and down the room. Almost like an embodied conscience her shadow followed her along the walls, wavering as the lamp flickered, fantas- 1 tically elongated as she swung to and fro. She knew she had behaved badly to - the older woman. She knew she had

been unreasonable in expecting Leslie to disregard Wu and the station altogether for her safety at a moment’s notice. But it was not that she 'was hurt or aggrieved. She was just most bitterly disappointed. She had made a picture of Leslie Dale on the wall of her imagination. He had stepped out of the frame, tired, dirty, practical, energetic. Sheila had forgotten that it was just those qualities which she had admired in the days when she had to compare Gerald with him. She was no longer interested in him because he could manage Chinese boys, and do his job properly. She made a futile little gesture with her hands, as if to push everything away from her, and realised that the missionary had re-entered the room, and was looking al her with a rather embarrassed look in his eyes. •’ “Gerald's just coming," he said awkwardly. "I think he’ll be all right—but he may want rather careful handling.” “Thank you, Mr James.” “But where’s Janet?” “She said she would prefer to dine at home after all,” said Sheila deliberately. “I see. But —you know—l hardly like to leave you alone with Gerald in his present state of mind.” Sheila did not reply, for Gerald walked in at that moment, rather dishevelled and wild-eyed. “I'll have dinner brought in," she said. “Do you think I want to eat?" snarled Gerald. “I’m sure you want a drink, Gerry." "And how right you are!” He went to .the sideboard, and splashed whisky into a tumbler. “I’d be careful of whisky on an empty stomach, if I were you,” put in Patrick James. Gerald rounded on him. “I’m grateful to you for bringing me back,’ he said, "but do leave me alone now! I’ve got some thinking to do." “What about, Gerry?” What do you think?” snapped Gerald. “That blighter Wu, of course!” “If that’s all," retorted Sheila, “you needn’t bother yourself any more, because Leslie’s back." Gerald, who had Hung himself into a chair, started up out of the same as if propelled by a spring. “Back, is he? Where is he?" “Gone to pay Wu a visit." “Ah,'’ said Patrick James with satisfaction, "that s what I'd have expected of him.” Gerald disregarded the interruption. "When will he bo back?” he demanded. "He said —in the morning." said Sheila indifferently. "Capital." said Gerald. "Splendid!" said the missionary, who, unlike Sheila, did not perceive the underlying irony in Gerald’s voice. You can go oil to bed with an easy mind. Gerald, and have a good sleep." “Oh, can I? You think so?” "Of course. I've complete confidence in Leslie, lie'll settle things his way easily enough." “Quite.’’ said Gerald emphatically: and added. "And then I'll settle them mine!" "What on earth do you mean?" Gerald Havelock splashed out another