The Nemesis of a Crime

Waikato Times, Volume 124, Issue 20821, 3 June 1939, Page 23 (Supplement)

The Nemesis of a Crime

By ACEITUNA THURLOW

NEW SERIAL

Synopsis of Instalment I.—Primrose Cat heart, last descendant of the Uatheart family, suddenly rendered penniless. and forced to seefc the shelter offered by Mr and Mrs Larramy, her uncle and aunt. Mrs Larramy tells Primrose the story or their neijrhoour. Mr Gellender’s matrimonial romance. On leaving the Diplomatic service Horace Gellender had married and brought his wire home to his country aeat in Clayshire (where the opening scenes of the story take place). It was reported that Mrs Gellender was a countess in her own right, and divinely beautiful, but to the surprise of all, •he proved to be a small, plain woman. She, however, possessed wonderful •yes that were rascmating to -n uncanny degree. Odd rumours soon got afloat of strange doings at lladstcok Hail, and Horace an i his wife quarrelled. The reconciliation was signalised by a county ball, at which Mrs Larramy overhead a conversation between Horace and his wife, showing, apparently, that the reconciliation was complete. Shortly afterwards she beard the sound or running footsteps, and was surprised to see a woman with a bundle running towards the road, where she was driven oIT In a trap, in the darkness there was a sound like a child’s cry. Three months later Horace received from his wife a heartless letter, bearing a foreign post mark. He only beard ol his wire oi . e arter that—through a rnend. Puinrose Cathcart and Horace meet aeam, and he invites her to the Hail to oee his Jewels, which are kept in a strong room specially barricaded. Their friendship grows stronger, and Primrose wishes that she could heip him to discover the whereabouts of his lost child. Primrose obtains an appointment as governess with a Mrs Lemaire, who Is about to start on a yachting cruise to Norway, her charge being Mrs Le■laire’s daughter Molly. Before she leaves her aunt’s Horace Gellender comes to bid her good-bye, and gives her a brooch set with diamonds. Primrose finds her charge to be an “uncanny-looking child," who Is being brougb up on a curious system or Mr Lemalr»*s. One day. Primrose mentions Mr Gellender’s romance, whtn Mrs Lemaire takes tre part or Mrs Gellender with some vigour. Every evening, Mrs Lemaire and the men, who all seem to be in love with their hostess, retire to the smoking room. Which Primrose has been Torbidden to enter under any circumstances. What goes on In that room is kept a profound secret. Primrose nearly fathoms the mystery one evening, but Mrs Lemalre puts the subject aside by discussing plans or a shore excursion. Next day the men start out on a sporting expedition and Mrs Lemaire and Primrose go Tor a long drive. They stay at-a hotel Tor the night, and when dressing for dinner, primrose puts on the brooch given her by Horace Gellender. which unaccountably startles Mrs Lemaire when she sees It. Arter retiring for the night Primrose Is awakened by the feeling that somebody is In her room, and jumping up •he discovered It to be Mrs Lemaire. She is horrified to find the bed-clothes reeking of chloroform. Mrs Lemaire retires, excusing on the plea of neuralgia. and then Primrose notices that her jewel case in which she keeps Horace Gellender’s present Is open. Next day she hesitates whether to stay or return home, but decides to stay. Meeting Mr Huntei, she asks him to take care of her brooch, and he agrees to lock it up in his cash box.

A story of Thrilling Romance and Exciting Adventure

I Am Engaged Something in his eyes told me what was coming; my heart was heating so fast that I could not answer. I shook my head. “Are you sure?” he asked, very very gravely. “Quite sure," I faltered. “Could you put up with it for life, dear? I am not worthy of you, I know, but you might make me so. Primrose, try to love me just a very little. A little! And at that moment I knew that I had always loved and always should love him, not as he humbly asked, but with my whole heart and soul, as he loved me. “Won't you give me an answer, darling?” Words were certainly not plentiful with me that afternoon, but apparently Maurice took silence to mean consent. He put his arm around me, and for some moments we approached as near bliss as I think we poor mortals ever go. After all. Eve in her banishment was not so much to be pitied. The gates of Eden were closed behind her. but at, least for a short space she had known Paradise, and that is more happiness than is granted to the majority. Chapter XVII. Possibly youth attaches too much importance to love. Nations may rise, kingdoms may fall, but what does that matter so long as the adored one smiles? We care as no one ever cared before. When the dream vanishes, ! and we are left gazing disconsolately at our broken bubble, we are amazed ' to find that the world has gone on just ; the same. The appetites of our relations and friends have not diminished and some of them are unfeeling enough to suggest that we should get over it. We realise how little they know, and tell them so. After a certain period (the length depends on the disposition of the sufferer) we fulfil their predici tions and recover, and the middle-aged I cynic who gave utterance to the pro- ! phecy smiles the smile of superior wisdom, and congratulates himself audibly on having passed the age of bitter heartburnings and fiery change. For all that, 1 am not sure that the middle-aged cynic really believes he has the best of it. The golden age i may have its passion and its tears, but I it also has its recompense. In the I forties and the fifties life may be a I better regulated, calmer affair, but the I acute pleasures of youth, the joy of I living and loving, are over. Sensible I affection, founded on respect and I esteem, take their place, and to me | they seem a chilly substitute. Possibly the poor cynic would be

more willing to exchange the cheerless philosophy of Winter for the gladness of Spring. He would embrace the first opportunity with the greatest alacrity were it offered, and his sneers at the generation who have superseeded him is merely a repetition of an old, old story “sour grapes.” But this is an unpardonable digression. written to fill in a pnuso devoted by Maurice and myself to the usual protestations. It was natural that, so employed, we should forget the fiight of time, and I was amazed when Maurice looked at his watch to find it was eight o’clock. Waiting for Mrs Lemaire “I should have thought that Roger ought to have been back long ago,” I exclaimed. ‘‘l hope he has not got lost in the fog.” We began to repack the basket, thinking it unlikely that Mrs Lemaire would come herself. Our sticks were exhausted, the hot water was tepid, so we concluded that she would be unwilling to partake of the remainder of the meal even if she joined us. We jimused ourselves meantime with plans for everlasting picnics in the future. “What will Mrs Lemaire say when she hears of my engagement?” The thought crossed my mind like a flash. Whether the reader believes me or not, it is nevertheless true that up 1o that moment the worldly advantages of Maurice’s position had never struck me. Hero was a new aspect to the ease. What attitude would Maurice’s friends and relations adopt when he presented a penniless governess as his future bride? How pleasant it would be for him to confess that he met his fiancee in a floating gambling hell ! My castles in the air vanished precipitately, what -business had I to marry a rising man and prove a weight to drag him down ? “Mr Hunter 1” I exclaimed, in an agonised tone, bringing him from wrapping plates in newspapers with some haste. “ You seem to have forgotten my name,” he began, laughingly, and, catching sight of my face, he broke off with: “What’s up, little girl? ” “ Oh, I can’t possibly marry you,” I said, hopelessly. “ You change your mind rather rapidly; I can hardly keep pace with you. Pray, tell me the reason. You can hardly have met a man you like better in the course of the last half hour. Remember, Spitzbergen is uninhabited!” “ Please—please don’t joke about it,” I said, miserably. " I should spoil your whole career. Think what your friends would say. How could I have been so selfish to forget the difference in our positions?” “ You seem to be talking a great deal of nonsense,” said Maurice coolly. “ I shall marry to please myself, not my friends; not that I shouldn’t trust my friends to agree with my choice once they have seen you, dear.” “Itis no use saying that. If you married me you might regret it all your life; in any case it would be unfair to your prospects.” Maurice interrupted me. “My darling,” he said gravely, “don’t speak in that \vay. I am sure you can’t take me for the snob that your words imply. Do you know that a few r years ago I should have been considered a very poor match for you, the only daughter of a rich man? It is only an accident that I am not a penniless soldier, with practically nothing except my pay. Extreme good luck sent me the money and something more than good luck gave me your love, dear.” Long and fruitlessly I explained my idea. Maurice was not a person to change his mind. As in the case with most arguments, neither of us convinced the other. Our eloquence was sufficiently engrossing to make us again forget the flight of time, till the thickening mist recalled us to our situation. “ Something must have delayed them,” I said. “ Do you think they will be much longer; it is so cold.” In spite of my furs I was shiveringThe damp air seemed to penetrate the thickest wraps. Impatiently Waiting “ Walk up and down, dear,” said Maurice, and I obeyed, pacing about and stamping my feet. Every now and then we strained our eyes, trying to pierce the fog, but saw nothing. The weird cries of the skaas and kittlwakes came discordantly through the mist. It was half-past nine. “ They must have lost their way.” Maurice made no reply, and I sat down on the luncheon basket in despair. Ten o’clock, half-past, eleven. I was really alarmed. “ Do you think we shall be here all night? ” I asked in a whisper. “Oh, Maurice, I do hope not.” “ It is beyond a joke,” he said angrily. “ What on earth is the woman thinking of I wonder if they are looking at all? ” “ Looking at all! Of course they are looking- Oh, Maurice, you don’t think—” I gripped his arm as a horrible, half-deflned suspicion flitted through my brain. Maurice tried to soothe me. “ I don’t think anything, darling, except that they have lost their way. It will be all right directly the fog clears. They may be here any minute, so don’t be frightened.” But In spite of this comforting assurance twelve o’clock still found us sitting there staring out through the fog, staring without satisfaction, for by this time it was impossible to see an arm’s length before us. Finally I leant my head against Maurice’s shoulder and fell into a troubled sleep. I woke, cold and wretched, to And it was three in the morning. We both got up and walked about, Maurice with difficulty. The cold had got into his ankle, making it stiff and painful. We were very hungry, and were thankful to devour a few biscuits which had been saved from our tea of the evening before. How much I regretted the crumbs which I had scattered for the sea-birds. “ It would be worse if it was dark,” I said, trying to speak cheerfully. We shouted in turns, in the hopes "that if a boat was looking for us the sailors might hear and answer. The hours crept by—three, four, five, six and then at about seven the fog began to lift. We became more hopeful, and with my help, and leaning on his stick, Maurice managed to scramble up the hill, which

commanded a better view of the Fiord. Gradually the mist rolled upwards like the drop scene ol' a play, disclosing a dark blur on the distant water. “ The yacht,” we exclaimed, simultaneously, our hearts beating high with hope. Though the fog had only partially lifted wc could discern that the Lily was moving. As the atmosphere became clearer I noticed with amazement that she was steaming up the opposite side of the Fiord. “ What the devil are they doing that for? ” inquired Maurice savagely. The course taken by the yacht was puzzling enough. She first explored the inlets on the other side with praiseworthy diligence, then she tacked and

started in the opposite direction, steaming south, while eve’y moment increased the distance between us.

“ They are certainly looking for something,” I said, watching the gyration of the Lily with great misgiving. “ Of course they are,” he returned, crossly; “and they have only to steer for this bay and they will find it.” Tying our handkerchiefs together, I fastened them to Maurice’s stick and waved them frantically. We Are Forgotten “ They are getting farther and farther away. They must have forgotten where they left us. Oh, Maurice! What shall we do?” I sank down hopelessly on the ground. The next hour was like a nightmare. The Lily made a thorough and extremely useless search of every bay in exactly the opposite direction to where we werf*. and each instant made our case more hopeless. I hurried to the shore, and returned with the packing paper, which wc lighted, in the hope of attracting attention but without effect. Once wo thought we could distinguish a small black object —the boat being lowered and despatched to search for us. Then the fog descended once more and hid it from our eyes. The morning hours went past. From time to time I dozed from hunger and exhaustion, only to re-awaken with a start to find myself still waiting, with Maurice’s arm around me. The 10-,‘ biscuits were eaten, and there seemed no prospects of relief“lf they don’t find us we shah starve,” I said, suddenly, “ you haven’t your gun.” On the remainder of that miserable day I shall not attempt to dwell. The fog was so thick that I entreated Maurice not to leave me, as he had intended to see what could be done to procure food, and was hoping to devise some means of trapping a sea gull. It was twenty-four hours since we had left the yacht. When I awoke from one of my fitful slumbers the fog had completely lifted. The effect was astonishing. The mountains were again clear, gaunt and bare. How cruel they looked, I thought with a shudder. How I longed for the haunts of civilisation, for woods and hill slopes, for cosy cottages. I disengaged myself gently from Maurice's arm (poor dear, he was fast asleep), and started to climb to our point of ’vantage to see if I could discover any signs of a rescue. I reached the summit and gazed over the wide expanse. Our glance told me our case was hopeless. The yacht had entirely disappeared. (To be continued daily.) BREATHING RESTRICTED One symptom of a severe chest oold is a tightness of the chest and a consequent difficulty in breathing properly. Take Baxter’s Lung Preserver immediately. “Baxter’s” quickly soothes and relieves coughs, colds, sore throats, and chest complaints. Ask for “ Baxter’s,” 1/6, 2/6 and 4/6, all chemists and stores. Be sure it’s “Baxter’s.” (5)