“AN EVIL ANGEL”

Waikato Times, Volume 122, Issue 20498, 14 May 1938, Page 23 (Supplement)

“AN EVIL ANGEL”

An Exciting Mystery Story.

(By JOHN MIDDLEMASS.)

CHAPTER X.—(Continued.) I "An issue—what issue?” "Oh, one never knows—a marriage perhaps—the ladies are young, and marriage invariably changes the cur- j rent of events.” "Just so—and good morning—if ever we have any future conversation, | let it not be that I have to And fault I to your disadvantage.” So saying, with an extra vigorous puff at his cigar he walked briskly away, murmuring to himself the word "issue.” That Emma Lane had some ( other meaning than that marriage ' would change the face of affairs he ! fully believed, though even lie, expert 1 that he was, failed to understand her i cryptic utterances. “She, having risen when he left her watched him till he was out of sight, i then she sat down once more on the iron seat, a very crafty smile on her face. "Twenty pounds a year! Hamilton Browne Is not a rich man. Is it sentiment, or what in Satan’s name is it that is making him do this? However it is worth having, especially as added to it is the amusement of finding out motive. Hold your tongue, Emma Lane—hold your tongue. Silence is golden—cossett the three women, with whom fate has cast your lot, and wait for what turns up—that something will, before I’ve handled that first twenty, I shrewdly suspect. Storm signals are flying.” A little later, when Emma Lane was making for the back door of the Hotel, in order to go up to Madame la Comtesse’s room and arrange her toilette for the evening, she saw T a knot of people chatting together in the front. Gervase A’Court had just arrived by the boat, and was talking to Hamilton Browne and the three ladies—only Mrs Cooper was absent. Of course Emma could not hear what they were saying, but from their intentness, she inferred that the subject interested them. It did, and was likely to interest them more, before A’Court had finished, the account of his experiences. “The play is the thing.” the Comtesse was saying in her little foreign English”—of" course we will have a play. So clever, Mr A’Court, to find a house where there is already a theatre.” “There is a chapel too, and a ball room,” answered A’Court. “My cousins never do things by halves- religion and amusement combined.” “In a ball room we must have people to dance —and I know no one in your country.” “My dear Comtesse —know no ©ne with your position —why the whole County will call.” She shrugged her shoulders. "I care not for the county—whatit is I know not—but I only want mv few dear friends. It i* for them I go to England for a time, surtout for cette Mignonne'’ and she laid her hand affectionately on Marie’s arm. Tq Nina the Comtesse had by no means takes as readily as to Marie. It almost seemed as if she failed to read Nina. She included her, however, in the general friendship, for one good 1 reason because she could not help | herself, since she was Marie's comi panion. I Mrs Cooper came down the steps. ! “Table d'hote" she said “Mr I A’Court must he famished. I hear he ! has just arrived by the boat-’’ Her reminder ol' the vacuum, abhorred by nature, made all remember that it existed, not that such a very exclusive personage as Comtesse Feodore dined in the public salle. A little room had been allotted to her where, till she had made the acquaintance ol Marie Cooper and her friends, she had eaten her repasts in solitude. Now however as cheeriness had dawned and the sun of friendship rose, sht shared the room, where occasionally other guests were invited, with tin Coopers and their party, and the petitt diners, which the chef of the “Splendide’’ provided to pc’ 'ion, were no only recherches, bu inkling witl joke and gay laugh.ix Even th< Comtesse, quiet and reserved thougl she was by nature—occasionally le herself go, catching infection fron Marie, and indulged in a merry out burst. This evening especially everyom seemed bright and debonnalre, th taking of the Grange, and the festivj time she expected, had raised Marie'

spirits to excitement’pitch, thus ren- ■ dering her mother and Nina most , thankful, though neither of them had in the first smiled on her sudden friendship for the Countess Feodore. For three weeks now it had existed, and it had become such an old time arrangement, that it had long since been accepted nem con. most serious half of the dinner being over, and A Court having reM duced the hunger-pangs, to which Mrs Cooper had alluded, was once more on conversation bent. In this depart<3 ment he usually took the lead, being brimful of gossip of all sorts, and on i- this particular occasion he suddenly r, broke even his own record. 3'. “Who do you think I saw in Bond ) | Street yesterday?” he asked. 1 Of course no one could guess, so, " ) after keeping them on tenter hooks ! for a few seconds, he said. 1- “A man I never expected to see J ’ 1 again,—none other than Philip Mor-

j If a bomb had fallen it could scarce|ly have had a greater effect. Only the Gomtesse looked unimpressed but how could she know aught about Morley? i CHAPTER XI. Will He Come? j The Grange, which belonged to a I cousin of Gervase A’Court. who had gone to the Antipodes in the Government service, was a strange mixture of mediaevalism and modernity, i It had been built early in the 16th i century, and since then various scraps , and hits according to the fashion of the day had been added, rendering the I old building a somewhat grotesque ' patchwork, which nevertheless had an amount of charm, not only from the quaint nooks and corners that it contained, but from its sticking uniquej ness. Nor had the present owners been In any way remiss about contributing their quota for though no fresh building had been perpetrated, modern improvements in the way of electricity —lifts—bathrooms, gas-flres, and endI less up-to-date luxuries had been added without stint. I “It was a Fairy palace, fit for a Fairy Princess,” Marie declared when she saw it, as she threw her arms round her new friend’s neck, and whether she or Comtesse Feodore seemed the more delighted at the | thought of a few months sejour in thia ; magical abode, no one could 6ay. | Naturally Mrs Cooper, Impressed by ’ j the place though she too was, found , ’ vent for her feelings with her usual j mystical enunciations. “Haunted, of course it is haunted,” she said. ‘ “There never was a Grange that . was not haunted-” . “Have you found the ghost?” asked Nina, who .though compelled to echo . much admiration of the old house, yet , wished with all her heart that she ’ were out of it. The question as to whether she had t found the ghost seemed to thrill Mrs i Cooper, for she shivered as she whispered in a low, awed voice: “Ay have I, and it’s murder again—• this old house teems with it—l feel j it in every passage—every strange unj expected corner.” 1 “You make me quite creepy. For •goodness 6ake, Mrs Cooper, do not ! talk like this to Marie. She is only „ just getting over that dreadful tragedy _ —for mercy’s sake do not prophecy any fresh horrors are in 6tore.” B “Not fresh horrors perhaps—but old " horrors die hard. Don’t fear, however. I will be careful with ‘the e childe.’ Too glad to see her bright again, only I shall he more at, peace when we are back in Belgrave Street. ’* “It is such nonsense,” cried Nina, who was angry with herself for being I influenced by Mrs Cooper’s words—“such nonsense —how can this house, t which is perfectly • strange to all of r us, and where we are merely visitors lor a time, have anything to do with o the trouble that happened more than a vear ago. You are letting your d imagination get too much the upper hand. You must check it, dear Mrs d Cooper, for your own sake and for 0 ours.” L . “Strong presentiments will not be checked,” she answered with a sigh, “but I shall know how to bear my own [r burden, Nina, and when the time e comes, God help us all.” Nina looked exceedingly annoyed, and upset. She had no belief In ghosts and predictions, still, hating her “ r life at the Grange as for private reasons she assuredly did, Mrs Cooper’s pessimistic utterances could not do e otherwise than affect her, even against e i her will—more in keeping as they 'vere with the grim desolation of her d own feelings, on which the festivities JJ' planned and talked of ceaselesslv by. d ’* Marie and Comtesse Feodore, }® almost, unbearably. if only Mrs Cooper would go home ie to Belgrave Street, and take her with. ts her, how thankful she would be, but. l “ this she felt could not be done. She W as too loyal to propose that Marie ( n should be left unchaperoned with this, stranger, in whom she herself bad no - full faith —in the power, too of these ( et as vet. unseen ghosts, to which Mrs ! n Cooper alluded. No, they must, have patience, and “dree their weird, even to an accompaniment of laughter and ne gav music, which seemed bo 116 placed that it was an agony to endure., ve (jo be continued)