Wedded and Lost

Akaroa Mail and Banks Peninsula Advertiser, Volume LXIII, Issue 6497, 6 January 1939, Page 4

Wedded and Lost

By RALPH RODD,. &uthor>>of "Whispering Tongues?" "Uhdfcr Psslse Colours/' &e. (Our reader a v are informs d that all' characters in this story are purely imaginary, and' if the living person happens to be mentioned no personal reflection ir intended.)

SYNOPSIS One of the most successful fiction' writers, Mr Ralph Rodd, in entrancing. story, gives in the'' opening chapters the Heart of the mystery, Deborah-King,, secretary, to. Hugh Venning, a well-known scientiait, on receipt of a telephone message offering her employer a remunerative commit sion, goes- into the*, country-to a little-cottage-where Venning is. spending hiß honeymoon. She finds him distracted,, slashing pictures out of, their frames! He declarestirafc he >cannot.undert»ke the commission. Venning.,:introduce** Deborah to a caller, Dr. Maurcea. av his wife, s audi deolarerthat. she- cannot go back to town that night. Later Deborah gets a messagfrfropi Maurcesi asking her to meet him "in the lane at eleven" She has seen nothing of Mrs Venning, but has heard a mysterious knocking from- an upper room. At night' she steals out and? sees Venning staggering out of the cottage carrying a hevay burden. He drags it to the edge of a lake and slips it in;- Deborah; hurries away,, and in. the darkness falls in with Maurces, who takes Her in a motor car to Oaklands, a' country house which, though ostensibly a convalescent* home for officers is in reality the headquarters of a criminal gang. This, generally speaking, is* an outline of the- story,. When Deborah King,reaches Penny Pot Cottage;, the home-of Hugh Venning, she- finds> it so beautiful that Paradise would be a more suitable name, and the preceding, instalments show how she becomes embarassed by the action; of. Venning- slashing pictures from their frames. Deborah's arrival at -the 1 cottage-' was evidently somewhat unceremoniously received, and she has many misgivings when a mysterious visitor arrives on the scene- in the person of Dr. James Maurees, who wishes the services of Deborah at a nursing home. Venning entirely disagrees with the suggestion and bars the Doctor out with more expedition than taste. xi.t the Doctor's departure Deborah disputes Vtiin.ins's njr/st.; " L,; ! iroduced her to Mlaurees as his wife and; a - little- scene ensues; she being, merely his secretary. Having finished their meal, Venning introduces his new secretary to her room, which Deborah finds to her dismay, is but very poorly equipped; In fact, her whole- nesvesi are' set on. edge since her arrival at Penny Pot Cottage. She is presented later with a cup of tea, the contents of (which- she had doubts —did it conntal poison? Deborah decides to-wait before taking the potion.

CHAPTER XVII LARPENT REVEALED This was Larpent! Drant found it difficult to believe 1 . There was something staggering in; the man's- audacity. Staggering or not, this was Larpent—the man who; if caught, would most certainly be shot as a spy. It was not often that Theodore Drant knew the pain of uncertainty: men of his calling get into the way oi arriving at their deceision swiftly. They may make mistakes, but they are seldo .i mistakes which arri -e from variation. Larpent was scarcely the man to deal with single-handed; in all probability he was armed No doubt the proper thing to do would be to make some- excuse to get him. out of-the house and- then give him in', charge of the first constable he met. And.after that? Venning—Deborah' —a scandal, and worse still, a scandal which; could- not be heard in camera. Venning charged with murder, Deborah charged as his accomplice, and neither of them, so far as he couldsee, in the least likely to be able toclear- themselves. If it had been a mere case of the innocent being charged and' of having the unpleasant and painful task of clearing their characters, Drant dare not have hesitated an instant, no matter how greatly tempted. The issue was so' much grimmer than that. Venning' and the girl were, in the eyes of the law, guilty. That fact stood out from all the rest with hideous distinctness. "So now. perhaps,, you understand' why' my client is acting as he is doing," Mr Peters said. "It would hanre saved time if Fd told you at first, but one naturally tries to respect a man's " He broke off and took a hasty glance at what he held in his hand,, then put the portrait away in his pocket, and the movement suggested that he was ashamed of having betrayed so -much' feeling. "Oh, quite so," Drant agreed quickly. Be must procrastinate. It was too big a matter to decide on the spur of the? momgnt. One rash step now

and there could be no going, back. "Yes I quite understand" —he did; m oro' than he wished the othe *, g ues*-"but I am of opinion that iLarpentv cannot, do anything- i wish, indeed, was father to the 'thought. "You see," he went on, "Larpent cannot possibly show up-— "He can do what he wants without the man who was liarpent. "He can get at Yenning through you and me. Two of a trade, what. .Now the question is how are we going. to get at Venning?" He hitched his chair nearer as he spoke. In some inexplicable way the movement suggests an exchange of confidences. 'This masquuauor seemed to assume that in spite of Drant's hesitation ha was bound to get his way. "I thought I'd made it pretty clear that I do; not carq to act for a man wiic dares not show up. ; 'His money's-as good as anyone s '•Then let him keep it;. Though the i less we say about the way he got it

Lai pent frowned. N "Do you mean to tell'me you refuse his offer? You haven't heard it yet. "I don't want to hear it. I cannot t act for Mr Larpent." . "Willans Peters" jerked his chair back again. "Being already retained by Mr Yenning," he Sneered. Drant shrugged his shoulders. At lea ;t he could deny this with all the conviction of truth. 'T have never spoken to Mr Hugh Venning in my life." "Speaking's not everything." The other was losing his temper —had lost it. "You're got your own reasons for .wishing to shield Venning; that's enough for me. You can go on repeating that Larpent mustn't move in the matter. You're wonderfully solicitous for Larpent,, aren't you?" Each instant the speaker was allowing himself to be carried further by his feelings. "Larpent daren't do this, and Larpent daren't do that! Larpent will show you that the man who murdered his little girl meets with his deserts! I don't know what Venning is paying you to shield him, but I tell you plainly, Mr Drant, it will take a better man than you to come between Larpent and his revenge.' It was an open declaration; the very thing Drant had wished to avoid had happened. This fellow knew him now as an opponent. The man had turned towards the door; was* he going: in search of Hugh Venning; or of Hugh. Venning's innocent accomplice who had done nothing to merit the fate which was surely stealing upon liei ? "I wish you good evening. Mr Drant If my employer. Mr Larpent, were here " "Larpent is here." The bomb had fallen all right, but it did not cause .an explosion. There was a little spell of complete silence. Drant found it peculiarly trying. Then he saw the man withdraw his hand from the handle of the door and step back. "I beg your pardon?" The air was electric, yet both men spoke with studied calm. "My dear Mr Larpent, you must'nt expect me to attach much importance to a visiting card, you know." As he spoke Drant picked up the visiting card which still lay on the table and held it out smilingly. "It was very well done," he said, "yet I can hardly believe that anyone as astute as Willans Peters, of New York, would condescend to accept, let alone solicit my poor help."

"And this is the man about whose smartness I have heard so much!" Larpent spread out his hands dramatically. "My dear Mr Drant, I can only say "

It was extraordinarily well done. Theodore Drant himself never suspected what was coming. The two strong sinewy hands, free of all weapons, had been held as though to show how little they were to be feared yet the next instant Larpent had sprung upon his opponent.

Never before-in all his life had Theo dore Drant had cause to dread voilence, his work had not taken him among the class which may be expected to use force when all else fails. For the moment it seemed too preposterous that there, in his own rooms, in the heart of London, he should suffer at the hands of a man he had himself intended to capture.

Drant put out all his strength: he was breathing hard. The man swayed backwards and forwards. One of them tried deliberately to upset a piece of furniture to draw the attention of the other inmates of the house to what was going on. As though divining D'rant's meaning, Larpent kept him in the centre of the room. . And then the truth began to dawn upon Theodore Drant. Up to that moment he had been extraordinarily successful in all he had attempted, now he would never be able to keep faith with the little girl #ho had placed such confidence ih him; would never be aMe to shield Hugh Venning from the effects' of his mad action; would never show up the quite interesting, little mysteries connected with Oaklinds, and—worst of allwould never lay Larpent by the heels because Larpent was crushing the life but of him. He tried onee more<— Straining every muscle, he sought to shake hfm-

toll. tee. ftpw, those w«lep hands, and as he writhed and twisted and bent, now this' « ow th M unpalatable truth was driven into his ttaobbinr brain. He was of a man who could not attora magnanimoM, and tKat-man was lor cing him down, down into th< .abyss, at the bottom of wbich\lay un able darkness. S5 55 55 ; The abyss- was Mter though he ££ of darkwaters, and h! S eyes. S heig hts; instead gaze up iliar pattern of the he saw the f ahvays instated S"y P a f- 'yards, above his

JKead; _ that may recall ing on the carpet, that, ms W were securely tied, that it huu feet . . , . n r „i se his head. Wtotad" hfs loUar grown so unaccountably tight? And that he was not al The ? man who was ransacking the desk turned swiftly as the other ' n "Attempt to call out and I shall silence you effectually, kaipen It was odd how naturally u Y ou he was no hectoring villan this You see" he went on smoothly, it wouldn't suit me to have you rousing the house. That would be even worse than that the servant should find your dead body lying there when he brought your supper." , In spite of the pain Drant raised his head sufficiently to enable him to Wk stock of the enemy; "What little money I have, lie o I served, "is in the left handl drawer. My watch is only silver, but- the chain is gold right enough." Such a senseless thing to say at that moment, and yet it gave him exquisite sure 'to see Larpent's expression of annoyed mortification. "I'm not a tliief," he said quickly, "not that sort of. thief, at any rate. You needn't be afraid that I want your trumpery valuables." "There are degrees of blackguardism." the captive remarked to the room at large. In spite of everything 'he was not afraid. He had been afraid just now. or something very like it. When he had learned that this man was physically his superior, fear, the emotion strong men dread more than anything else, had come tapping at his heart. Now he had done with it; he had learned the humiliation of defeat; but it had not robbed him of the ability to look death in the face. "Need we waste time in discussing definitions?" Larpent asked with dangerous smoothness. "You would save us both trouble if you would tell me ■where you keep your notes on the Marlmere mystery or whatever you call it."

"If I had any I trust that nothing 1 would make me tell you. Haven t a scrap as it happens; wouldn't do for a man in my position to take notes. I don't have to make reports to superiors; safer never to put anything in writing." Larpent turned from the desk, and. the action seemed to the man on the floor to constitute perhaps the greatest compliment he had ever had paid to him. Circumstances had forced him and Larpent into open enmity, the fellow had laid violent hands upon him, but he was still ready to accept his bare word. Larpent crossed over from the desk to the centi-e of the room, and he stood looking down at the man at his feet. "I didn't kill you before," he said, "because to do so might have endan-gei-ed my position, which is hazardous enough as it is. At the same time I "am not sure that I can afford to let you live; it depends entirely upon you." Drant strained at his bonds. "If you're going to talk," he broke out passionately, "at least you'll have to let me sit up like a rational man. I'll be hangedd if I'm going to lie here and be dictated to! It isn't good enough." Larpent stooped and unfastened the handkerchief which bound the other's ankles. Drant saw him half nod his head as though he undeiistood. Then he had to submit to the annoyance of having to let his enemy help him to his feet. "There's your chair," the latter remarked, as though he had been host rather than visitor. "I think, if you don't mind, we'll keep your hands tied; I mightn't be as lucky as I was just now. Oh, of coui'se, I know that I took you unawares." He smiled, not unpleasantly. "So did David when he slung stones at Goliath; nothing to be sore about." It was ridiculous that two men in their position should waste time on such trifles; it was even more so that Drant, who did not know as yet whether he was to live or to die, found salve for wounded pride in the words. And now I suppose it is my turn to pay you compliments on your grip; I d rather we got to work, though. What's the game." (To be Continued)