JOAN OF THE GREAT HEART

Waikato Times, Volume 107, Issue 17975, 21 March 1930, Page 4

JOAN OF THE GREAT HEART

CHAPTER VII. — (Continued.) “ Advance, quick march —and return.” thought. Joan, only half believing, by this time, in those mysterious noises. To-morrow, how Dad would laugh. Siio loved to hear I hat. infectious merriment. She was thinking of all sorts of tilings as she walked downstairs, but Iherc was something about 'the moonlit hall which set tier pulses racing. She could see every object, and oh, how horrible it was to watch the library door slowly opening, 'inch by inch . . . inch by inch. Joan blew out her candle and ■crouched hack in a niche. Two men had come from the library and stood hesitating. They wore masks and she did net iccogiTse them. One had a small sack over Ids shoulder. Then—she had to cough; that hideous tickle in lior throat would not be restrained and instantly lbe call came for action. One of Hie men sprang towards the stairs, the other drew back into the room behind. Joan forgot even the need to safeguard her father. “Help!" she screamed, “burglars!” That \va senough. It was she who pursued, she, who clutched at that sack. so that the man holding il swung round, dealing her a blow between the eyes. Down went Joan . . unconscious of what followed, ignorant of Hie fact that Lestcrlecs had reached (he hall in time to see the man with the sack vanishing into the library. He might have, caught him 100 had it not. been for the sight of that crumpled figure on Iho stairs. There was tm hesitation nossibl’, and a few seconds later Joan was lying ‘on the couch in lire hall, whilst Die owner of the house was ringing up the nearest doctor and the police, after having brought Airs Alton and two while-cheeked inaids to his assistance. “She, has fainted,” he told Mrs Alton, “ I do not think she is hurt. Those rogues are going to suffer for this.” The house-keeper shuddered. She would have been afraid to see those midnight thieves in the grip of her master at that moment I Joan was conscious of aching head and a horrible giddiness when she opened her eyes. Someone was talking hut that was far off. Someone was telling tier lo drink what she did not wish to drink, and—someone was holding her hand in a strong, quiet grasp, and a voice, deep, tender, compelling, spoke her name. “ Joan.” She unclosed her lids, looking up, wishing instead she might have been allowed lo sleep. il was Anthony j Lesterlees who looked down at her . even in lior weakness and pain j she recognised Ihc acute distress on J his face, and tried to smile. j “Joan," lie repeated, anil this time! it was only a whisper, “ my darling-” She tried to shake her head as if to refuse to listen. She was not Ids ■ darling . . . nor his Joan. She was j nothing lo him. Oh! if only lie would { understand that. Site was afraid she j could not have made if very plain, for presently he had lifted her in his arms, carrying her upstairs. How j strong he was, how easily lie carried j her. She was no! afraid of his | stiirnbiing. there was no jar. She! tried lo (hank him, but the words j would not come. A great weariness j swallowed ibeni up. _ j Of Die doctor's coming, of his visit j lo her fa!her with whom lie sieved ' lib morning, Joan knew nothing. She \ slept presently, and woke to find Mrs ; Alton beside her with her breakfast! tray. . ! There were roses —the loveliest in : Hie garden —on ihc table near. The ; housekeeper stooped to kiss the lovely; voung fare. ; “My dear, Heaven bless you,” she said .heartily. " but for you the whole place would have been ransacked, ihc thieves had set Ihc lock to the sccict word and wouid have had all the val- i uablcs if if had not been for you. But ■ why, dearie, didn’t you rouse the house? 1 won t worry you. the mas- j ter says the police will have to wait, : lie won’t have you worried, which, as ; Dr. Jennings says, is quite right, - though the police would lie glad lo j hear what you have lo say." j Joan roused herself reluctantly i she was still horribly tired. It hurt . to think. i “Dad?” she questioned. ‘ M bat ■ about Dad? Did he hear?’ ; Mrs Alton hesitated. She had hoped ; I bat question would not be asked. I •• Ho did hear,” she replied, “ and, j | of course, poor gentleman, he was, i unset. Hut 1-e is much better this. I morning, and a Her a day’s rest m j i bed will be none I lie worse.” 1 i ,joan sighed. She did not want to ■ | remain here whilst - Dad was suffer- i ; j n j.j she. longed lo get up—but, fnen.., ; j| " was not her own house and site i dreaded J> give (rouble. Perhaps ! : that sensitive shrinking was useful, i for bv next day the girl was ?om- ! para lively herself once more. the, j police had full details, but so far no ; : arrest had been made. Thanks lo the . !-alarm, Ibe thieves had decamped with- ■ j out ibeir booty- j j Joan’s first visit was lo her Jalhei. j i ]lo was silling by the window in lus ; j room wrapped in a dressing-gown. | .joan could have sobbed at sight of I him: never had she seen him look so i ill Vet his smile was as cheery as '“'idle little heroine of adventure,” h 0 said, tcasingiy. “ What will Michael "and Nannie and all the chums say lo it" Lcsterleos had lo tell oil. the ‘press’ pretty sharply, for they were all here wanting photos- Don L blush, Joan of the (treat Heart. You broke a. lance in style—and arc none the worse for it?” , . , lio C avc her a searching glance, Hod |o see that in sidle, of black i bruise round her eyes she bore no j soar. At first an exaggerated account. 1 oL* her injuries had resulted in that * heart attack. He could give no furi Uu-r particular's of the police reports, j and shook his head when Joan asked i who was suspected, i “ i've been on the sick list and go, i no thrills in consequence,” lie said ! gaily. “Now run along down into the i sunshine and don’t forget- we me i coing- home on Saturday- Nannie has ! sent an S.O.S. She evidently read Ihe account of the burglary, anil l!dnks Haw ton Court no place for us.” Joan was no!, deceived. Dad was feeling his heart more than he confessed and his instinct was to get home.’ 1-le hated giving trouble in a strange house. ]l, was gloriously sunny, and Joan was keen to gel. down -lo the lake unobserved. She wanted to get her meeting with Lcsterlees over as soon as possible, lie would thank her, she was sure of t.’liut —and hoped it would end with a formality. And yet came d,o haunting memory of words she had heard whispered as she lay m a dim world of pain and unreality. “Joan, my darling.” There had hef'n no unreality about Unit! Every I syllable echoed in her brain. oan, I n,v darling.” ! 'now her cheeks burned. He hau no right to call her that. • She was nut his . . . never would be Ids. Memory showed her younger, g&jcr

By 'MAY WYNNE.

lover, the comrade of Bohemian days, ) the passionate, irresponsible, merry friend, who had lived their life and joined in daily fellowship with them, sharing a picnic meal, inviting lo an audacious reverry—cheering, sympa- j thizing, living as one of themselves. If only Michael were here . . . and she were free to give him her life, and he . . . free and rich enough to include Dad in that household, where Love reigned! She had reached Ihe j shrubbery, and, tired with doing noth- j ing, seated herself under a copper I beech. If Lestcrlecs were not by -the j lake she would wait till after lunch j when Dad would be arranging about, their return. She had barely decided on I ids where she heard voices raised in argument on the other side of the hedge. Lestcrlecs’ voice sounded I stern and she could no-t help hearing j every word. “ I cannot persuade you. of course, j Erica,” he was saying. “ You are old j enough in all conscience, and ought : to know whether a man is straight—or a crook. I don’t hesitate in saying I believe Captain Denton is a crook, and sooner or later you will find out ' to your cost.” Then —even before she could rise j and escape, Mrs Baydcll was answer- j ing. j “ You are altogether unjust, ; Tony,” replied the angry woman, j “ And your suspicions arc a disgrace j to any honourable man. You state i that Boris Flenton is a crook, you I don’t hesitate to say you believe he ; had a hand in the robbery at the j Court, when you have no shred of ; evidence to prove your words, and in ; fact, there is very much more reason j to suspect the Hardale girl, who knew j the secret of the lock, and had only ; Hi aI. afternoon helped me to set it at ; the word harrier.” j “Erica!” Lestcrlecs’ voice was ■ terrible in its suppressed anger, Lvi- I dcntly the two bad halted there on j the other side of ilie hedge. “ You j dare,” went on Lcsterlees, “ to utter such a calumny against a girl to ! whose courage and devotion 1 owe j so much. You will unsay and npolo- j gise for those words or 1 never speak j to you again.” ' I “ Then don’t speak,” flamed his sister. “ Remember, I don’t insult, you j more Ilian you do me. I have . . . 1 I have the greatest respect . . . and j affection for Boris Flenton. I believe ! him to he incapable of doing what you ! suggest. I cannot express by horror j in adequate words. Captain Flcnlon j is a man who lias suffered cruet in- j justice, lie is a humanitarian, a lover j of his kind,- he lias great 'ideals, and yet you dare ” i “ To say he is a rogue.” replied j her brother, “ that is quite true. You | must he blind not to see it. But I will j not argue. V/c are both too hot. lo j say anything further. If wo continue this talk it will mean a quarrel | past healing. You have said things I shall find difficult to forgive and forget. I have probably done Hie same. Each Ihinlcs himself and herself justified in these accusations. Another time I hope your common sense will bring you to me with an apology. I will wait till then—but remember, I

you will have to come- That is to say if you wish t.o lake up the olcl relationship of brother and sister again. Uooclrbyc.” (To be continued.)