THE FIRST LAW

Akaroa Mail and Banks Peninsula Advertiser, Volume LXIV, Issue 6580, 27 October 1939, Page 4

THE FIRST LAW

(Our readers are informed that all characters in this story are purely magiimry, and If' the name of any living person, happens to be mentioned no pe»iohal r«flection is intended.) ALL RIGHT RESERVED

BY C. a ANDREWS,

Autfco* el "B»ggar My Lady," "His Hour/' 'The House of Mnrgatroyd," Ete.

CHAPTER XXII

SIR JOHN HEARS NEWS

, Sir John Dur.boyne, pausing at. the garden gate of Black Watch House before he qpened it, turned his face towards, the trees on the lawn with: the faint' half' arused, half caustic, entirely cool and cynical smile which made, up its most familiar and r.ot too agreeable expression. Would the girl', he, wondered idly, be waiting for him there, robed in her prettiest frock, armed with her most charming manner ? r Or would she appear presently and display for his benefit the indifferent, indolent insolence which v/as her second favourite pose? Either reception would be equally characteristic of her. Oh, a clever girl, not a doubt of it! He didn't admire her any the less because he could read her through and through. Of course she would have understood the meaning of his note; and equally, of course, he knew perfectly .-well what her reply to it would be. No man need fear a "No" from Monique Lamotte if he could bid high enough. The fact that she probably hated him lent rather a piquancy to the affair. Was she waiting? Probably; there was a movement of some kind beyond the belt of shrubbery. He came out upon the smooth stretch of turf, and saw that the only figure , under the, trees was that of Adrian Glyde. He lay back in a long basket chair, with a gay-colourcd rug over his knees; his face, in the dappled "shadow, iooked pinched, and ho:low, and white. He started and turned at the sound of the approaching tread and Sir John advanced. Miss Lamotte could wait.

The financier could be pleasant enough in manner when he chose, and he chose now; his inquiries were made with all due concern and kindliness. That they were responded to with a ccrtain. constraint and awkwardness he perhaps did not note, or chose to ignore. He came in a few minutes to his subject. It was not his way to waste time. The little affair, that business that they had spoken of, he had hoped to receive a decisive reply in the affirmative while in town. It hardly seemed "probable that any more explanations could be necessary, the thing was at once so simple and so sure, its advantages so palpable, the chance of a lifetime; the profits would be—must be—little short, of enormous. B^t, time,.began .rather to press, such opportunities did not go begging, there were a dozen eager to snatch at it—if Glyde had made up his mind. Glyde interrupted, flushing in his nervous awkward fashion; to refuse anything that was asked of him was a thing he hated doing.

"It's very good of you, Sir John, of course; but I have decided not to go in for it,'" he said quietly.

"Eh?" Sir John paused with a swift drawing together of his bushy brows. "Definitely:?" he asked sharply.

"Quite definitely. It is not in my line, you know. Very possibly the thing is all you gay, buk-—"

"Possibly? It is all I say. Would hardly have my money in it if it were not."

"No doubt. But there is, necessarily always an, element of doubt in speculations of this kind that, to be candid, I don't quite care for. If the money—a large sum—were lost "

'It would not be lost. Man, you'd quadruple it!" cried Sir John.

"I might, or might not. If it were lost,, it would cripple me over other that I have very, much at said Glyde :simply. He looked away across the garden. "I—l have no particular interest in life, you see, beyond my work for those who are in need of such help as I can give them, and I want to extend, not reduce it. I don't profess to understand these matters, but —well, I am afraid of the risk. Besides " "Besides what?" "Well, I have some scruples about taking these huge profits—when so much is gained there must have been something like a corresponding loss somewhere. Not businesslike, I daresay—l'm not a business man—but that's my feeling. No, I won't go in for it." Nothing could have been more decisive than his manner, quiet as it was. The financier dragged at his iron grey moustache with bony white fingers; it bid a clenched jaw.

"When we talked of it I thought, you were inclined to go in ?"

"Oh, I was,.l think. But I,consulted Mr Everard Foliott, and "

thing, it seems, of a similar thing* also connected, rather oddly, with: the Argentine, that collapsed four or five years' ago—turned out a colossal fraud. Those behind pulling the strings got off scot free. There were others not so fortunate. He did not go into details, but it was an abominable business, I should say. Er—perhaps you yourself, Six John, have not made sufficient inquiries, if I may suggest it, into this present affair.- If there should chance to be anything not quite straight about it, and-you were heavily involved "

"It might be awkward for me, and I should do well to look more into it? Just so—perhaps I should. Well, if you have quite decided there is, of coui'sc, no more to be said. Sorry, but it can't be helped. Sincerely hope you'll pull round quickly, my dear fellow. Good-day," said Sir John.

He moved away over the grass. But he paused when he had gone a few paces and looked; back at the figure under the trees. Glyde l had sunk back in the chair again with closed eyes. The financier's face, as he regarded him, was not so amiable as his words; his twisted smile showed his teeth in the smile which had made Peggy declare that he looked as if he were going to bite.

"The fool!" he muttered in a tone of savage contempt. 'I make inquir ies—l! The puling idiot!" He moved a few more steps. "Decidedly awk-ward-puts me in an infernal hole. I'd counted on him.' He moved again. "The Argentine? What has he heard about that affair? Could Foliott—? He stood for a moment considering, frowning. "Anyhow, curse Mr Everard Foliott!" he concluded heartily, and went on to the house.

But not to enter it. Under the verandah outside the drawing-room window, Miss Lamotte stood, pulling on her gloves. Her dress was of some silky stuff in flaming tints of cardinal her broad hat looked like some large carnation flower; under it her small, scarlet-lipped black browed face showed as transparently delicate as a pearl. The whole thing was audacious, such as not one woman in a thousand dared have worn. Monique carried it superbly—she was dazzling. Exactly as she had meant to be, thought- Sir John, regarding her, and with no attempt to hide the smile that was- as much caustic as admiring. She gave him a half-glance under her eyelids, did not, it seemed,-see his-extended hand.

"What a pity,, she said, drawling sweetly. "Uncle Hector is out, L Sir John." She paused to l yawn. 'Het must be at Llansladrone, I think. Anyhow, he strolled up to St. Cuthbert's this morning after breakfast, and probably walked home with Miss Foliott —he often does, you know. Most likely he won't be long now, if you wish to see him."

"I certainly wish to see him—presently." Thb financier put his ignored hand behind him; his smile broadened. "You are going out?"

"Yes. To the Crooked Cct. Alison

• "Ah! you will waste your time. And —which is more important—the frock. I passed Miss Romayne in the village. She was g.">ing, she told me. to the Court."

"Really? Provoking! Then my congratulations must wait until to-mor-row."

"Congratulations?"

"Exactly." There was a deck chair on the verandah; Monique siowly subsided upon it with her usual languorous, deliberate grace. "You didn't know, perhaps ? But you wouldn't. Really, if that little imp of a Peggy hadn't come bursting in with the news yesterday I suppose I shouldn't have known myself. Why, it wasn't announced properly at once I'm sure I don't know. But Alison was always the dearest quaint thing. Perhaps, for such a stikler for propriety, she thinks they have rather rushed things. And they have, you know."

"Possibly. But if I had the honour to know who you were talking of." began Sir John.

Monique half-glanced at him again,

"Didn't I say? Surely you can guess. She is engaged to Everard Foliotl."

"Oh, that's it." There was a chair beside the deck chair— he took it. "Miss Romayne is a charming young lady," he said, coolly, "and Mr Everard Foliott is an extremely lucky man; if he has all the good' that I have the honour to wish him he will be luckier yet!" He met the faint involuntary raising of her- -slightly laughed. "So, at present;-you'are beateii, it seems?" "Beaten?" "In 4;he race." "The race?" "Precisely. - -For - v the Matrimonial Stakes. But the leader- of the first lap is not necessarily the winner," said Sir John. "You may yet be first at the post." He changed his position for an easier one, inspected her, deliberately with a hand at his chin. "How soon will you - marry me?" "Really, Sir John!" Miss.Lamptte half started up. Butmeeting the glittering 'eyes under, their bushy., brows, she .did .no more. Afid the financier laughed again. "Come, come," he said composedly. ; "Keep the little tricks for the little' fools who may believe, in them, my

"And he warned you against it?" cried Sir-John.

up. Clyde, made a gesture. "He certainly advised me. not to touch it, ;and said that he would not do so in my He knew some-

dear I told you some-time ago, you know, that I-knew every one of them by heart. And you replied, I think, that you found me detestable. Which is probably stiii your opinion, and d o e«n't matter a straw. That being the case, if I also am hurrying things, it hardly signifies, since you would scaiely fall ardently in love with ill even if you had more time to do it

in." "My dear Sir John, not m ten years!" . 'Precisely. And, of course, you will marry me? You knew what my letter meant as well as I knew what would be your answer to it,"'said Sir Jcihn. He inspected her again. I want a wife —since I have the fancy, for vaiious reasons, to take one that people will stare at and talk about, one who can wear her clothes and her jewels so as to make them stare and talk more. You fulfill the conditions, my dear, as I knew at once when I saw you. And you will be unknown and fresh, which is another thing that chances to suit me. As for your insolence, that also chances to suit me as well as anything else, and will 1 be quite an easy to manage, trust me. So we will consider the matter settled. And I'll talk to your uncle when he comes in."

The financier leaned back in his chair; a smile twitched the lips under his bony white fingers; he had seen the flash of the green grey eyes under their lowered lids, the streak of scarlet in the pearl-pale cheeks, and it pleased him. Sir John, when he used the whip, liked to see the wincing. He pulled a jewel-case out of his pocket presently, took up the slim long hand that lay white on Monique's cardinal i clad knee, and slipped a ring of great ! rubies and diamonds on the finger that | would wear his wedding ring present- ] ly. The sooner the bcttei. In a month : or so he would be going abroad, and would take his bride with him; for the folly of a mere wedding trip ;he had neither the taste nor the time, he said curtly. Miss Romayne and Foliott would hardly be in such a hurry as that; she might therefore count the race as won. By the way, was- it their engagement that iiad knocked Glyde over? His devotion had been patent to any one to bee with half an eye. Sureiy, though, he must have known that he would stand no chance with a fine girl like Alison Romayne. What was this cock-and-bull sto'ry about his having gone riding bareheaded on the moor? Monique roused herself; she had barely troubled to glance at the ring any more than : at her visitor. - How completely hateful he was, she reflected placidly; it was quite amusing to think how she loathed him ,and how much more she would loathe him by and by. And he believed, which was more amusing, that she would be easy to manage! Well, let him continue to think so— until she was safely Lady Dunboyiie.

"Not at all a cock-and-bull story," she contradicted. "It is quite true. That is why he is here. Uncle Hect6r brought him in the car. Why did he' db it? Really you had better ask him that. He is always just,a little crazy, you know." She laughed. "I hate the moor, detest it; but, properly speaking one ought to be quite grateful; it seems to supply all the excitement we ever get in the deadly place. First there was the picking up in* a pit, or whatever it was, of that little vulgar chorus girl creature whom they have turned into a nurse at the hospital. Then came Alison's finding Everard Foliott with his head broken. And then, just a few hours afterwards—which I call a sheer waste of sensation; it would have been so much more thrilling ix it had come a little later—there was the discovery in the quarry, with his neck broken, of that wretched escaped convict Miles Clitheroe, and "

'•What?" shouted Sir John. "That was his name?"

He had started up liketa boy. Some* thing in his face—she could not. have told what—brought : Monique as swift* ly to her feet. She stared at hinr as he stared at her.: /'The convict's name ?: Of course it was his name." "You are. sure? Sure?" "Of course I am sure. I remember it perfectly;.l had it from Uncle tor, who would, not be likely to mak<j a mistake,, and he from the warders .when they took the body to Llanslai drone. He arranged about its being placed in the gun-room, and so on, because Mr Foliott——" She wrenchi edaway her clutched .wrist. "You; are hurting -me! What- are you looking like that for? What-do you mean?'' "

Sir John did not answer. He let her go and burst out laughing. Then he caught up his hat, and without another* word or look hurried away. For a moment, : ndignarit and bewildered, Mbnique stood still. Then she ran after him and down to the gate. 1 He was some : fifty yards down the road, but stopped Jier- cry and waited/ Adrian-, Glyde, roused .by it, and . a second clangiM-.of the gate] stood »p, ; .and-so saw the- parley;, (between them?befpre they..turned invthej direction..of jUa^§idrpneiiy;< (To be Continued.)