The Cottage in the Chine

Auckland Star, Volume XLII, Issue 287, 2 December 1911, Page 20

The Cottage in the Chine

BY BBAOON HXLU

', CHAPTER YIIL A DUTY CALL.

Sector, who had walked with lagging steps up the broad avenue, approaciied toe grand entrance of Purbeck Abbey in no huggy frame of mind. His errand was the payment of the call which etiquette demanded of him after dining at the 'Abbey a few days ago—a simple matter in itself. But it was scarcely twenty-four hours since he had satisfied himself that his noble host on that occasion wa-s engaged in breaking the laws of the country on a scale unparalleled in recent history, while, by. the irony of Fate, he, Hector Yeldham, was pledged to unmask him. And his heart was given to the fair daughter of this man. That was the .-nix of the whole situation. Whether Lord Purbeck was a madman, or a political fanatic, or a desperate criminal sheltering nefarious deeds under the aegis of the.peerage, he could not determine, nor was he greatly concerned to do so. ' For love of Madge St. Aldhelm he could have persuaded himself to shut his eyes to what he had seen at Devil's Gap, and to what he still might see, if he was satisfied that the Earl was a colossal contrabandist and nothing more. It would have been possible in that' case to' salve his conscience with the pretext that his discoveries had been accidentally made while he was his own master and not on the service of the "Daily Lynx." On his return to town he could have invented some excuse for asking"' to *be relieved (from, the Special commission awaiting him. But a graver crime than the mere defrauding of a rapacious Revenue cried to heaven for vengeance, and, after the conversation he had overheard between Lord Purbeck and Budge, it was impossible to. dissociate it from their unlawful practices. Fastbound though the 'Beauty -and winsome charm - of Madge' St. Aldhelm held him in thrall, he could be no conniver at the hushing up of a brutal " murder. That the Irishman, Cassidy, had been foully done to death, and that the Karl and his' henchman were hiding their knowledge of the crime, was not to be gainsaid in face of the confidences they had exchanged on the shore of the cove. So it was that when Hector set jangling the old-fashioned bell at the door of the Abbey he was in two minds whether he wanted to be admitted or not. His suspense was short-lived. The regal butler, attended by his yellowstockinged satellite, appeared before the •bell-chain had ceased to quiver, and bowed his stately head to the query whether Lady Madge was at home. With much ceremony he conducted the visitor to the drawing-room, which to Hector's excited imagination seemed to •he still ringing with the sonorous echoes of Aunt Drusilla's martial songs. "If you will be good enough to take a seat, sir, I will inform my lady," said the regal one. "Sh, is somewhere in the grounds, I think." Left to himself Hector tried to compose himself for the coming interview It would be best, he. told himself, to beep tt at.the humdrum level "of a "duty call." He.' would ;talk about the scenery and'the weather!' That would not tie his haflda to ' an;,- particular course, ; and. _ after all, he was there that day m his private capacity. A little while hence and he would, have to be a .rournafet before he was a gentleman, 10-day he was a gentleman, and no journalist at unless he so pleased. £>o he dallied with temptation till Madge came quickly through one of the open -.French windows and. stood before him, a dazzling vision in white serge, and with a posy of late roses at her breast. Such emblems of innocence were ♦ W SPO ,w? dr i. SS and frank -™ un S »«e. that all thoughts of her as an accomplice in her father's misdeeds were put to flight and remained forgotten dur c:ig the rest of his visit. But the pious resolutions to keen things a* the level of a duty call were fellow .fugitives with-, his- suspicions. Youtn was calling to youth amid the austere grandeur of the Abbey drawingroom, and could any unseen spectator wdth an insight into Dan Cupid's wiles have been present, he could have told you that hero was one of those latter- . day anachronisms, a case of spontaneous ore between man and maid. The man -„ knew it well enough, but probably the - maid would have been sore put to it t« define her affinity „ the athletic > young Englishman who did not share the average English- athlete's deficiency in brains. Indeed, it is quite likely that , at this stage she was under the impression that she was drawn to him be- ; cause of those old school days on Paris with his sister.

Hector did not stay more than ; twenty minutes, but when he rose to go and Lady-Madge offered to show him - the gardens on the .way to the drive,. -- he seemed to tread on air as he followed _ her through the window on. to the wide, cedar-studded lawn. She had ■been more than gracious to hiim, and without the slightest trace of -condescension. All heedless of the morrow, and of the blind alley of disappoint- • ment into which this infatuation for a peer's daughter would almost surely .lead him, he was intoxicated with the glamour of the present, and was coni tent to let the. future wait upon itself. "I seem to have known you for ages and age 3, Mr. Yeldham," the girl said as they sauntered across the velvet turf: "I' suppose it is because you are so like my dear Helen, and also, perhaps, be- , cause you came to. mc first as a true 'knight to a woman in trouble." - "I could wish that the' trouble had been a greater one, then," Hector made -answer without picking his words, and ~ the next instant was sorry, when it was too late, for his impetuosity. There had been no 'afterthought in the back ,-©£. his mind when he spoke. To insinuate a hidden meaning tad b?en furthest from bis intention, and yet his companion turned on him a . swift glance, which was either indignant or suspicious He could not be sure which, but the words which followed the glance, and the -tone of- them, recalled to his memory all the doubts and fears that had dropped from .him like a stripped gar ment :d,ijring7the las? half-hour. "Why;?" alio demanded; and'her voice.'.' rang col^aruLclear as the. clash of steel:' ; "Arc yon-come- down here >as a Don - Quixote, to lilt as. ; windmills?: "What greater trouble than'tbe danger of losing my dear 'Doggie' could you possibly have saved mc from?" , With indifferent success. Hector endeavoured to laugh his error away. "Oh. I wasn't specialising any particular trouble,' he replied. "I was being con yontionally polite, I suppose, it would of course, be absurf. to believe, I/idv Madge, that you could ever stand in need of my humble assistance in .any really serious difficulty.- I imagine that in a tight cornervyou would-*be well able to?iold your own," -*■ ' ■ ■"' ' - ; .-,:. %^lpSi§Sfc-3^^V-r3fc:;3

"You are right in your belief," w*s the, answer,, in which... there lurked, the hint of a defiance that was more tentative than openly challenging. And the challenge not being taken up, the fair chatelaine of the Abbey allowed her. sudden mood to pass, and reverted to something of her former amity. But a discordant note had been struck, and whether it was that Hector was no longer quite at his ease, or that •Lady Madge had- not in her heart accepted his disclaimer at its surface value, the intimacy so auspiciously begun progressed no further. As a courteous hostess, she fulfilled her promise to show him the old-world gardens, but their talk during the rest of the tour of inspection was confined to blooms and foliage, and was no more concerned with themselves and each other. And she said good-bye to him as soon as they reached the avenue instead of accompanying him to the lodge gates. Undoubtedly there was a rift in the lute, trifling as yet, but not to be disregarded by a lover who had begun to feel on good terms with himself and ail the world.

"A nasty set-back, and only my infernal folly to blame for it," was Hector's way of putting it to himself as hs strode down the avenue. "But she is in it—up to the —along with her father. I wonder lif that mature songster, Aunt Drusilla, is in it, too. A quaint figure of a twentieth century smuggler she would make, anyway." And then, lo and "ne.hohi. from Ihe shrnbbery that skirted the avenue who should emerge but Aunt Drusilla herself, puckered of -brow and looking worried, but so frail and dainty a specimen o! elderly spinsterhood that, in spite of Hector's previous experience, her deep bass greeting smote upon his ears like an unexpected thunder-c:ap. ."How do you do, Mr. Yeldham?" she boomed. "Let mc at once tell you that this is not a chance meeting. 1 was aware that you were calling at the Abbey, and I wanted a word with you alone. So I laid in wait for you. It is all quite in keeping with what goes on here habitually. Someone is always lying in wait for someone else." Without heeding Hector's conventional response, the old lady ordered him with a gesture to continue on his way to the gates, and set herself to march sturdily at his side. "I am very fond of my niece," she proceeded with startling inconsequence. "Madge is my dead sister's only child, and her father is either mad or wicked.

Very probably both. I want to appeal to you, Mr. Yeldham. We are surrounded by spies. Ido not complain, for there are things going on here that ought to be spied on, and if it were not for Madge I should let Lord Purbeck gang his own gait and take his chance. Now, you cannot deny that you are a spy in the interests of your newspaper, h may be a silly old woman, but I am sharp enough to see that. Yet I think that you are different from the spy you have come to supersede, inasmuch as you appear to have the instincts of a gentleman. So 1 want you to believe that the child had nothing to do with the murder of that poor, man whose body you found on the shore. I would not shield the guilty, but let mc beg you not to drag Madge into it."

Slackening his pace, Hector walked on in silence a little way. He required time to consider this amazing development before "ho came to the high road. He recognized at once thattthough Miss Campion might be mistaken in her facts she was no fool. He called .all his wits into play.

"I do not understand," he said at length. "In the first place, I did not I come to, this neighbourhood as a spy, but simply because.Mrs. Calloway was an old I family servant who would be likely to I make mc comfortable during my holiday. ' And that being so, I certainly did not come down to supersede another spy. May I ask to whom you refer, Miss Campion?"

"Why, to whom else than that man Mapleton, who is lodging under the same roof with you? Madge and Ido not dis cuss these matters often- I do not approve of them. But I know that she regards Mapleton as a detective of some sort, and that she has warned her father against him. Lord Purbeck thinks fit to differ from her in this respect, and insists that the fellow is harmless. The manager, Budge, laid a trap for him, I believe, "and he refused to walk into it,. but to my mind that only proves his cunning."

Hector felt that he had cause of grievance. "I can only repeat upon my honour the assurance I have already given that I never set eyes on Mr. Smyly Mapleton till the other day, and that 1. intensely dislike him," he replied with some warmth, adding, "As to his business, I am entirely ignorant of it. He may be a detective, for nil I know."

The old lady wrinkled her forehead, and, cocking her head on one side, eyed the young journalist critically. He had flushed up under his indignation at her implied disbelief in his reputation of being Mapleton's successor or colleague, and she realised that his face was not one to inspire mistrust. But she had a parting shot in her locker which, womanlike, she could not abstain from firing. . "Ah, you admit that Martha Calldway's permanent lodger may be a detective," she said. "Well, it docs not follow that you might riot be one too, does it, just because you are not friends with that other and did not know him before. When you come to think of it, he would not be likely to be friendly with one who was doing his. work better than himself, would he?"

As a special pleader with a man of honest intentions but divided mind, Aunt Drusilla was not a success. She was too persistent.- And, while admiring her persistency, with a warm spot in his heart for Madge's. loyal champion, Hector realised that if he was not to be cornered he must use harsher methods. It -was high time, in order to retain his liberty of action, to discard the gentler shifts of diplomacy for a more frankly brutal style. He came to a sudden halt and confronted his obstinate questioner. "Does it not occur to you, Miss Campion," he began his stern rebuke, "that you have, with the best intentions no doubt, either divulged too much or too little. If • you are still labouring under the ' delusion that I 'planted myself at the Abbey gates with the set purpose of spying upon its inmates, and in that erroneous belief desire to appeal to mc to desist, you. have not- been sufficiently explicit."' ' On'fthe other .'hand, if," a's I nope, you have- done mc the.justice to accept my assurance that I only resorted hither to enjoy a. Jiardrworked man's holiday, you have said things that would whet the appetite of any journalist, whether holi-•Jay-making or not. Why. if I was so "hided, I could go back to the cottage low and fill three columns with the fague hints you have dropped of dark ??eds done by your noble kinsfolk at the i.bbey.'V , ... One glance showed him that he had won lie victoryonly a minor one in a skir- , ->ish in which his sole object had. 'been , l gain thne from the st?ift onslaught, ; mt-none the less complete. Aunt Drusilla gasped, gazed piteously at him for

half a minute, and commenced an ignominious, retreat up the avenue, ... . j 1 "I am a foolish old woman," she boomed back at him when she was twenty yards away, her great voice echoing among the elms. j But Hector, as he proceeded thoughtI fully towards the gates, was not so sure that her self-reproach was fully justified. I ITo be continued next Tfiednesday.)