“ANNOUNCER’S HOLIDAY"

Wairarapa Times-Age, 7 January 1941, Page 10

“ANNOUNCER’S HOLIDAY"

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT. COPYRIGHT.

By

VAL GIELGUD.

(Author of “Africa Flight." "Outpost in China," etc.)

CHATTER XIV. (Continued). 1 "It was simply that we were both ready to help you," began Charles I awkwardly. It was only at this moment that he 'i realised just how odd the story soundj ed—how thin von Rcichenberg's moti tive must appear out of its Limehouse (setting and without the backing of his H remarkable personality. ; Greta Mahler jumped up from her I chaise-lounge, pulling the fur-trimmed I wrap closer around her slim figure. "1 ; think you had better go. Mr. Bland. I I do not like things or people that I don't i understand, especially in a foreign ■ country. Perhaps you would say the i same to your friend?" i Charles thought that he detected the i slightest quaver in her voice as she I added that last sentence. "You think. Miss Mahler." he said i coldly, "that 'my friend.’ as you call ; him, understood your treatment of him ! at supper last night?” ' The girl flushed crimson. And Char- i 1 les. seeing his arrow shot as a venture i * hit the target, thought the moment op- ! portune to retire in good order. He should have waited. For then he might have seen the sophisticated ornament of the theatre, her dignity and , her eye-black simultaneously forgot- j ten. lying crumpled up on the dressing- j . room sofa, sobbing her heart out like ! any hurt child. I ' CHAPTER XV. When she re-entered the dressingroom at the end of the matinee, she found Prince Xavier in possesion. That young man was evidently in no pleasant temper. Greta was used to that. She was oven used to the way in which he ordered her dresser into the passage. But she was not used to a scene before she had had an opportunity of getting rid of her make-up and changing. She was certainly not used to hands being laid anything but gently upon her shoulders. . . And she had a temper of her own. "Stay if you like," she said, "but I'm going on changing, and 1 want to get behind that screen. What is it?"

Xavier flung himself down on the sofa. "That's what you’d better tell me," he retorted. "Who are these young men who come to sec you?" "Friends of mine." said Greta from behind the screen. "Are you prepared to do without me. Greta?" "Must we talk about this again?" Two stockings coiled lazily over the' back of the screen. "Surely last night was enough?" The prince twisted his black walking-stick fiercely in his hand. The handle slid back, drawing with it several inches of shining steel, ill was a sword-stick, Xavier fingered the blade lovingly, and clicked it home I again. "Listen to me. Greta' I've adored you now for three years. Il's a long time for an officer and a gentleman to waste tn a ballet-girl. For that’s all you were, my dear. That's all you'd still be. if your managements hadn't been flattered by my interest in you. If certain money hadn't been found for certain engagements. Even this engagement here in London—" He stopped. Greta had said nothing. She remained silent and invisible behind her screen over which various intimate garments had ’followed the stockings, one by one . . . “Well?" said Xavier, and the monosyllable was almost a snarl. “I don’t think a gentleman talks like that," said the girl at last. She came out. patting her hair with neat clever fingers. "Quite so." agreed the prince after a pause, "but I'm no longer a gentleman, Greta. I'm in love, so I’m just a poor foul like other fools Only I've had enough of it!" "1 shall be sorry, my dear,” said Greta softly. "You were unco a good friend to me." "Friend!" Xavier laughed. "1 never made any secret of what 1 wanted from you." Greta turned round as she sat at her I dressing-table. "1 could never marry you," she said j "It would mean ruin for you " "It would mean the end of a silly . fairy tale. Greta. It would mean that ; v.c could live abroad and never worry ■ about thrones and politics and dynas-; lies. It would mean that we could pel happy! " "When I don't love you:" "I could make you love me'" And. gazing at his fascinating eyes ’ al the vitality that lleXed c'.ei;. mUSCIe I in hi- lean athletic body, Greta felt La ' an instant that ho might bo speaking I the truth Probably something of that i feeling showed in her expression , whatever th, cause the prince’- control: -napped. He I'-ng arm-. shot t . u i. Th,. wir, E litigi't?; c.mght Greta by the shoulders! for the • nd time. -pun her round on |. the -1,..,! where ■he wa-. iitmg. and; jerked tier savagely into ’ns embrace ! Hrsl merely grew ; frightened. She twisted and writhed. \ Then she .creamed hoarsely, am! the! prince clapped a hand aero-.- her mouth The other Lifted upwar<L ' from tier • Jtouldcr-blade -■ and m ved I to tier thi. .: Them as suddenly as that fury .had ; begun. It died- Ti-.e horrible clutching) v-’ent out of the oy< that were dull as unlightcd lamps Greta 1 •o r Imi'i” Xavier -d over her. iitllc and twitching like a i. : rabbit | Tin- prince marie no move i lvr I maro-iiet'e i»,. picked up, ha: t . and walked t the d m I do not think J shall r>me here " >'<■ u can md m< ■ :h<- ; .. ■- .■ < .

with a quelling glance at the soldier': tanned face, with its single immovable eyeglass and air of bored good breed ing, which concealed such immense shrewdness and knowledge of the world. "Sorry not to agree with you." said Boughton languidly. "Perhaps you don’t agree that the matter is at all important?" Boughton affected to ignore the sarcasm. "On the contrary." he replied. "But let's check up—what exactly have we got?" He ticked off his points with the tips of fingers placed with some fastidiousness on the stained and dusty table in Moresby’s office. "One—and a very large size in ones: Casimir Konski. If we could only lay cur hands on him—" "Found his hide-out yet. Moresby?" "No. sir. But we shan’t be long.” “You've been too long already!" “Secondly," Boughton proceeded tranquilly, "this humbug about the prince and the actress. Third, this queer imitation of the Yanka Puszta assassination school, planted in midSoho. Finally the approaching visits that we know of, and our business to ensure the safety of the visitors.” "And isn't that enough for you. Boughton?" "From most points of view—yes. But this isn't just an ordinary police job Cavendish. And if you won't let Moresby attach Allardyce and Bland temporarily to the Special Branch. 1 don't mind telling you that I've every intention of taking them into M.I. on my own account." "You rather specialise in amateurs, don i you?" observed Major Cavendish , unamiably. Frank Boughton took no notice of : the offensiveness implied in the other's ! time. "If they aren't roped in on some sort; of official basis, they'll play round by their little selves, get in our way. probably get into a fix and have to be gm ' out; and quite possibly complicate the \ whole business quite needlessly.” he i said.

"Of course in that case you must do us \'<:n please.' said the Commissioner. "Personally I don't think they're vm v important from any standpoint. Mv hands are quite full enough as it is." And he glared as Moresby, who looked at the tips of hi.s shoes and said nothing at all, "Wry well." said Boughton "Leave cm to me. But let’s stick to the p mi: What's the connection between Casimir Konski. the approaching visit of A and B. to this country, and the amaturv mtiigties iff Xavier, hereditary prince of Carinthia'"' "Heavens knows" grumbled the Commissioner. 'Nr, doubt But we want t.> know Is it the old game of the double bluff ' Moresby sat up suddenly. "Meaning”' snapped Major (.’;ivvnC' !<-m-l Boughton took out a cigarette ca-ie and selected a cigarette with elegant fiistidiousne'-is -Merely rather a pet theory," he sard ; ‘i ho" But Ive known it practised Lefore and with success. Think a minute. Cavcndi h What arc t!>.e übvmus ngredients of m,. :t! r a s n . Mahhr "Do get on. man'" ( ei viinly Everything which means h«-aditiiai '. th,, answer ' ov<-lv young actress- "foreign "prince thwai '■'■u mmimce '.m-atrst al baet:;:r> imd and niV'tonoU'. alm.>-.ji!ierc ;n the mid : 1 . v*:';:, !i ilea! a ~f 'Zarvrd and (xqmkir j> : , ..... ... , hl . "Well got ti:.- j.t.bhe sutfum-mly m.ter< .',<•<! tha! >■>. ~f >, , , so ■" ■■ "■ mucii :a. ; - or,, brought •" imar <m your people to look aft,.,-

j threatening. I would not wish to hur I you. But I could not help it. I shout j kill you, as I so nearly killed you jus h j now—just because I could not stop my is! self. I am mad about you. you see- ' not as most people understand th el term, but in truth and fact. As far a I- j you are concerned I am—not sane." : Greta began to sob quietly. She dii e I not look up. Xavier stared at her, hi s: face twisted into a horrible expressioi j The door slammed behind him. Gret; r j staggered to her feet, locked the dress d ' ing-room door, and buried her face ii I ; her hands. CHAPTER XVI. ' ■ The silence of Superintendent Mor rj I I esby ever since what Charles Blanc L , had called "The Adventure of the ! Empty Shop." had not been of that en l ’ I terprising officer’s making. Moresby e j indeed found that he had pul his foo ,j in it. The Assistant Commissioner re ’ buked him for making any such sug- ’ i gestion to Messrs. Bland and Allardyce I I in any circumstances. j “But what was Ito do. sir" demand’j ed Moresby. “They were on the spot j They seem decent young fellows. One 'i of them’s in the 8.8. C. after all. And they seem to have fluked into the busi- ’ J ness from another end." ’ ' "You ought to have smacked them : jhard and sent ’em home to mother and ’ | bread and milk." said Major Caven- ' I dish. On the other side of the tabic Colonel Frank Boughton, vaguely attached at intervals to the War Office or the Foreign Office staff for convenience. but always and in practice subchief of M. 1.5.. which is by interpratation that part of the Military Intelli- ■ gence Department which deals with ■ counter-espionage, and all kindred ' problems, grinned at the large Superintendent's discomfiture. ’ “And I don’t think it's funny," continued the Assistant Commissioner