THE DEAD MAN'S HAND.

Auckland Star, Volume XLI, Issue 293, 10 December 1910, Page 19

THE DEAD MAN'S HAND.

BY RITA RICHMOND. .fctithor of "Handsome Ned's Daughter,""Which is Heiressf', or .KnaVe," "The Honour of the Desboroughs,", etc."

CHAPTER Xl.—(Continued.) oj, was a brave fellow this Ronald gbrdon, as has been sa *d before, but tchad never tried his bravery so far as to accost a lady to whom he had never been introduced. There she sat, a slender drooping figure, as though all stiffenjjg Had .been taken out of her, was the young nian'3 involuntary reflection, hei delicate profile as pale as a snowagainst the ligM from the window djhind her. She was a good deal thinger and whiter than when Ronald had jjsi seen her. Oh! what a change in hei fom what she had been when that light-tented-looking, sunny-faced photograph ffhich reposed in Ronald's waistcoat pocket had been taken. -Ihe face the young man looked upon BO ff was no longer the face of a happy Irresponsible girl; it was the face of a yonan' who had gained an experience filch had' laid a shadow upon her youth Suddenly, as Ronald watched her with ar unions eye,.Maisie laid down her cup md the young man's heart throbbed .nicker. She was going to get up—she «j( finished; and he had not made uj lis mind how he was to approach her— fist'he was to say. What a tonguetied idiot he was; this was the effect of his' wild, uncivilised' life telling no-re to his utter inability to face a mere thit of a girt SUCn as ttu s . over whom h< jSffl lawful authority besides. ;Jim Fortescue would probaMy-advise Jim to walk up to her and with a "Come (10ng...-with mc, young woman," marcl js r off on the spot. But it was easj | j o ke about ordering a woman to dc this_ and that when the woman was al »safe distance —very easy, forsooth! He only wished Jim Fortescue had been here now instead of him. What an idiot he (ad been to take tho business out of the detectives' hands after all. He coulc lot address this girl; he could not stoj jit if she chose to walk right away rioTi .-he dared not. ill at once, as he sat gripping his littli tAle with 'big brown hands in his anxious Bttharrassment, he saw Maisie give- ■ i neat start, her pale face grow deadli nrhitc;.he heard her give a gasp, ane a)ii\ that''he sprang forward, upsetting his Vi'cup over the white cloth, for hi believed the- girl in front of him wa about to faint. -fySTiat'is it?" he exclaimed hurriedly forgetting all his ba3hfulness in a'mo Bent at the sight of her distress. Maisie turned swiftly; there -was £ Jook of actual horror in her eyes as sh< (tared at the speaker blankly: Then th Beit instant she had recognised Ronah as the man who had spoken withrher-a thetrain on'fcer most memorable run nmy journey. "Oh!" she said in a gasping sort o ■voice;""it is you!" For the moment hi face'was as the face of a friend to th distressed girl, and the : kindly solicitud of the clear grey eyes looking into ncr ww was-very grateful to her, she recog jiised "vaguely, even at this instan! ■when perhaps the most dreadful of al things Which had yet (happened to.Maisie IdacDonald had just beTallen upon 'her. ,'\"3_e_v_it's me,".replied Ronald quickly, regardless of .granumar. "Can I —can.,l tssist yoti?" He was 'beside 'her, towering'above her, a very tall young man ___.' looked,, and to Maisie there was an inde&nsMe'-'eense of comfort in his very largeness. What a-good wall he would make c .hetweeii ".one and troffble! ; But she was scare, conscious of this thought. • ,"I t do not know what bo do," she made answer wildly, and her small hands wrungeaeh other. "A very" dreadful thing has just happened to mc." ...."Can you not tell ihe what?" said Eonald gently. His heart was beating pretty fast. 'If she 'knew to whoim she Stas talking.' Maisie looked up at him distraejtedly, doubtfully—and yet it was not exactly Ilia'speaking'to' a ; stronger, since they hid-.spoken before. "Yes, I must tell sopeone," she said distressedly. . "Perhaps you will help mc to make them believe that I did hot mean to steal my luncheon.".'"'"

"WHat do;.you (mean?*. "My pocket has been picked; my purse, ~fith all that I have in the world, stolen. 'And, oh! how can I make them ibelievo such-a story? It sounds so improbable. And -London people never believe such EtoTiea,.-' They — they" — catching her bkath—"will perhaps bring in a policeman.". ■'■• •

"Stop!" said Ronald hurriedly, Maying &-big; hand lightly on her arm. "You are talking nonsense. You axe excited. See 'here! I—l am going to pay this waitress who is just coming up for my tea.and..yours, and then I want you in retnra: to walk out. of this place ■ with mc, and let mc speax to you quietly - for a few minutes outside." 1 .Maisie stared up at him amazedly, and then reoognition of her own folly in laying herself open to tbe charity of a Jtraager came upon her. She had indeed lost her head. - ~ "Did-you imagine," she said haughtfly, "that that js-as the sort of help. I asked of. yau?' 1 Her hlue eyes were lashing now. 'Nd," replied Ronald desperately, slipping his hand into his pocket, for the l waitress was hear; "hut if you will listen-to mc one moment -when we get ontside...you will -understand that it is j llS' l ''. I—l know who you are, and iam-a friend of Sir Ivan Mac Donald." ..-.ljr.a'few minutes the hot tea,-room, *. w the sound of Tattle of teacups and iifin of talk and laughter, seemed to smm in a imisty haze before Maisie'S eyes, and she was scarce conscious of What ..pest happened till she found her- ; m Standing in the cool outer air upoii «e,street, and the person who had notched her out of the jaws of her wimble dilemma standing staTing down « her anxiously. .You are not going to faint?" the *°™g man-was saying. "I fancied for a httleyou were, you know. Would :7«Uefc .mc put you into a cab?" So, Maisie, shrinking a •we away .from him, and beginning to ™ye d own the street. "Tell mc, what .*" rf that you said just now—that Pa -were a friend of Sir Ivan Mac- ?'* -It; is true," replied Eonald, moving JWPjr -her side. "1 am a friend, and aS jinend I w as entitled to help one so Be M to him as j know you are ». luk'r 1 ovr mc? " said - Maisie breathpaling a quick glance at the Wi . okin S' iMe abov e hor - "How?— , T^ 0 " can you lenow mc?" Inn eU you that presently," said S?nervously. "Meantime will you are -In v^re J on are g°' m S> what y° u *..,"°. n ß> as a friend who is anxious "°befriend a relation of Sir Ivan?" lUi seemed ao calml y pertinacious in J,.-S C P IJI S by her sifle that Maisie saw sides j_°* iitend to be shaken off; benot v w <3 * ed him mone y. sta could hoi — rd to him, and, oh! d*t ' s t e e ™ n to P a y thi * fimalJ WeiH7 c ' " bw * owin ß' from JoaA '-.-._

1 " I—l came to London to earn my living," she began desperately, beginning toi •walk very fast. "Perhaje you 'have heard " . . , " Yes, I have heard," replied the. young man very gravely, "and, may I ask, axe you earning it?" ••'■' ■ ' ,*-.%'" ''".'' It was ji staggering question" from a complete stranger, and ..Maisie gasped as she looked quickly up at him. l What did he kribw or guess? Arid then suddenly a sense of her own helplessness came upon her-with an overwhelming rueh, and she recognised how little it mattered what anyone knew. Was she . not a ■beggar already? Had she not come to the point of accepting charity from a stranger? "No, I am not earning it,"" she said, abruptly, recklessly. " When I lost my purse to-day I lost every penny I had in the ■world." I There wag a silence after she had spoken. The big .figure at Maisie's side strode along a little faster, breathing somewhat quicker. Neither of the two ■were conscious of the hurrying crowds which jostled them, of the stir and noise of the city streets, so absorbed were they in their thoughts. : Then Ronald spoke again. " If that is so, why do you not go back to Castle Dhuart again?" he said quickly. " Because — because things are too dreadful. If you know what has happened, you -will understand. Have you not heard that —that a stranger has come to rule over the old place—a new master that has been made—-—". "Your guardian?' said Konald as ene paused., " Yes, I have heard. But why - —why should you leave your comfortable, beautiful home because of ■that?" " How could I bear to see another master in dear old uncle's place? How could I obey a strange man?" She paused; She couid not give this stranger the real reason of iher flight. • " He might not ask you to obey him—„ much; he might 'be a decent sort of a fellow, and give you quite an easy time. Perhaps you might even get to like him —at least, tolerate him." Konald shot an anxious glance at the face beside him, and Maisie lifted her eyes quickly to his. All at once some intuition seemed to open her eyes. She stood quite still on the'pavement/and for a moment or two ehe did not breathe.' Then" she spoke in a'quick, choked voice. "Yon— you. I ibelieve you are a friend of his." In all his life Konald hAd never, felt so nervous as at this moment as'he stood looking back into those wide and halfangry sea-Wue eyes. He had not meant to divulge the truth so quickly, but now those eyes seemed to crumble away, hie self-cpntrol, and he. knew he was face to face with tie moment he had feared. "I am Ronald Gordon," he said gently, " your'guardian," and I have come to take you back io tttvuart"; and then a'qtriek remorse and pain shot .through-his heart, for the look on the face of Maisie MacDonald was like that of. some little animal caught in a trap. \S~*~ '?. CHAPTER SIL A /VERY AWKWARD HTOATTON. "You! You—ere my guardianT" said Maisie at last, after a dumbfoundered pause. "I am!" said Konald deprecatingly, and inwardly relieved at haying disclosed the truth. " But yon are—you ore quite young," gasped Maisie. In moments' of crisis, the mind sometimes fixes upon trifles. . s- . "It has been cast in my teeth already that rfact,"' said' Ronald gravely; "and I know wha* you are thinking, that it is preposterous for mc to pretend to Sir Ivan's authority—still, you- must remember, 1 am under orders as well as yott— l cannot refuse to obey these orders simply because I Jack in g, trifling matter such as years." •- Maisie walked on again mechanically, trying to grasp the extraordinary fact that had been disclosed to her. She could scarceljwrealise it. That this young man should ba her guardian—a personage she had always pictured as a rather stout, elderly "man, somehow—why! the very youth of this man rendered the situation more impossible even than it had been before. . " Yea, I acknowledge (it,* , said thp young man, frankly, as Maisie continued to walk in silence by his aide. "We are in rather a mess, as it were— there has been a mistake made somehow or other. 'Someone has blundered,' in fact, but in the words of the gallant poenjy 'ours not to make reply; ours but to do or ' Well! maybe, not to die exactly; tot— ier— don't you think lit has made thinge a. little uncomfortable, not to obey orders?" He shot a sly glance at Maisie's profile. She, at least to judgeT>y her appearnce, had made her, Self pretty uncomfortable by disobedience to the will of the kindly old man who had only eought her good. " What do you mean to do with mc?" She said, lifting her eyes to his and speaking with a sort of tremulous defiance. "I mean to take you home with mc," said Ronald, quietly, tot steadily. He, was quite surprised at the strength of his own determination to do this .thing. "And if I refuse.?" saibt Maisie, in. a low voice. Ronald pulled ihis Tnvrwn moustache reflectively. "You see, I have—er—the law on m.y side," he said, deprecatingly. "You mean you will make mc go back •to Dhuarfc whether I choose or not?" said Madsie, catching her ibreath, and not able to decide whether she was angry or only afraid. Ronald groaned within himself. This was harder work than "heading" a runaway "steer," as he had often done on Fortescue's farm. "I want to do my duty," he replied; "and, look, (here!" he added suddenly, turning ■ to her with a very earnest look on 'his handsome face, "please don't make ft any harder for mc than you can help, Miss Maw Donald. We've been placed in perhaps rather an awkward situation (as it has turned out) towards each other, but don't let us make it more awkward than we can helpi Come jback to Dhuart,, and give mc a chance of showing you tihat I'm not such a toad fellow—Jtho-t I mean to "tary my best for you in this guardianship business. Don't think Fin going to exert unnecessary authority over you. But let us be friends, and help each other through this rather difficult position. Will you?" His deep voice was earnest as his face, and it struck quite a curious thrill through Miss MoeDonald's heart. Yet the soreness, the humiliation of her capture, the exposure of her utter helplessness to this man of all men, was too keen and recent to allow hereto yield so readily to the friendly entreaty. "You are master of Bhuarfc: that should content you," she said coldly, after a little pause. "I should only be an added responsibility, , & trouble. Leave she here to work for ity living, and where I shall be happier " ''•■•_., .1 "You will pardon mc," interrupted Ronald, respectfully, "but bappierf Hβ

raised the level line of his wel-de__3ed eyebrows, so that they almost disappeared under ..tho-brim ,0f,,hi5,..,ha 1 'ti.^ r .. 1 ..,.-;' Maisie fluahed .and., bit iher jlip. ,'|l-4I shall get-on better by she said, definitely, but there. was a tremor in her voice.. "It—it'is not easy to. get on just at once," and then -the defiant tone changed to pathos almost; against -her will.,,''' ,". ''yXi" ]. ..;.'''■'',7; ' j'. "Tiuvt At isn't,", said Ronald,- forcibly and sympathetically. He knew-the- hardships of seeking work only top; ]Well, iand if for no' other reason he was determined that Maisie should not stay one day longer in London, trying her„:poor little strength against the cruel giants ;ofi-Despair and Poverty. "And. 'therefore," he added cheerfully, "I am going to take you back to Dhuart with, mc;" and then he continued to talk, to argue, up street and down street, till "they reaejhedthe very door of Maisie's lodgings, and Maisie looked up, with a start at the door of 39, Hertford-square. "This is where I stay," she said, stopping and looking *up at Ronald. "!Ehen I am coming in while, you get your things packed up," he replied, cheer-. fully! but there was a -.set look on his lips under the brown moustache. It was' an anxious moment. Would! she yield'i Would she ihold out? For a moment Maisie .Stood quite still, looking at the ground, pride and despair, and then, somehow, * just "then, all the strain of the past weeks—the anxiety, the humiliations, the poor living; the unwonted work—seemed to touch the breaking point of Maisie ' MocDohald's endurance, and without a word of warning or answer she suddenly "sank in'~a dead faint on the steps of 39, ere the horrified and astounded young man could catch the swaying figtire dn his grasp. Miaisie had evaded the disagreeable word "Surrendered."