The Salt of the Earth

Auckland Star, Volume XLIV, Issue 177, 26 July 1913, Page 20

The Salt of the Earth

A Story of Love and Excitement $B_f Fred- I_ W_tte. i CHAPTER XXXV. FOR HONOURS SAKE. Tn many respects Adela had never had a high opinion of CaHade.rs mental capacity. She believed he was dull and slow of comprehension, and she hoped that she had not done him any injustice, for a man of alert intellect would have no difficulty in piecing together her remarks. lli>we\er. Callader's face did not indicate that he had gleaned much. He stood in his usual, heavy, sullen way, like a man who is uncertain of Iris welcome. Yet it was very unnecessary to discover how much he hail heard. Adela put a question or two to him, but his replies gave her no help, and he strolled over to the fireplace, j and took a cigarette-case from his, pocket. ' j "What arc you going to do about this affair'. 1 " lie asked. "What can on? do?" the Duchess retorted sharply. "Wc must bury the; poor man deceirxly. 1 suppose you didn't know his name wasn't Burton at I all?" "Oil, yes. 1 did." Callader said, coolly.! "His. name w-k- Samuel Mostyn. 1 met him years ago in New York, in fact, we did business together, and 1 don't mind admitting that I got the worst ot the deal. 1 daresay it will hurt your feelings. Adela. but Samuel Mostyn, alias Burton, iva.s one of the choicest sc_rrps. Thar doesn't seem to count for much nowadays, and in this regard, I understand. Burton was highly respectable." Adela thought Callader was sneering whilst he said this, but she could not feel certain, and the situation was far too delicate to warrant her putting •anyleading question to him. The smallest hint might act disastrously on a suspicious man like Callader. All the next day the msutor was still uppermost in her mind, and occupied her for a further four-and-twenty hours, until all •that was mortal of Samuel Burton yvas decently interred, and the "blinds in the Castle were drawn once more. On the third evening, however. Adela obtained a clue in the course of a scrap of conversation which she overheard between Callader and Marner. It was only a few words, but they sufficed for Adela"s purpose. For she knew that, the money for Lestrine had been obtained and that the documents were ready for his signature. Within a few hours Callader would be ready to strike. As to-morrow would be Sunday, she would have to leave for London that very evening. She must contrive to see Denne without further delay, and warn him of his impending fate. * The more Adela pondered the matter the less she liked it. What Denne had done, she knew he had dose for her sake. She had a feeling that the Duchess of Southampton was right, and that love for her was the mainspring of Denne's extraordinary line of action. How could she face him and tell him everything without touching upon the delicate point? She had forgotten her own troubles for the moment, forgotten that she was a pauper over head and ears in debt amd likely to meet with a widespread notoriety on that account. It must soon be known that Samuel Burton had left nothing, that his so-called heiress was bankrupt in money and reputation. To what extent, if at all. was Douglas Denne aware of these facts? Had Burton deceived him, too, as he had deceived Mark Callader? Did Denne regard him as a venerable rascal, who in some way- or another had amass-ed a laTge fortune? Certainly, he had invited Burton to dine ■with him on the reputed millionaire's first appearance in London, but Denne was so far unconventional that he never •hesitated to follow his own bent, and dottings that would give other people pause. But. be this as it may. he should be told of the snare that had been laid for him, and there was no help for it bul that Adela should tell him herself. Tt still wanted an hour or so to dinner-time, so that Adela had time to walk down to the village post-office, and wire to a friend asking for a reply calling her to town at once. This" hackneyed expedient had been utilised repeatedly, and was. in fact, the normal (<_ethod resorted to for getting away from a house which might prove to be undesirable, and in the existing circumstances it ser\ed. At eight o'clock the reply came, and Adela sent it up with a few pencilled words to Callader's dressine-room. A quarter of an hour later she was hurrying across cot_trv in a motor-car to catch the London express at a. junction some twenty miles away, ft was broad daylight by the time she arrived in town. She went Straight to her flat, and ray down on her bed as she was . __ n d slept the sleep of •utter exhaustion. She woke at one o'clock, ami refreshed herself with a bath. Then she immediately began lipt Bearc-h for Denne. It would not be altogetlter easy, she knew, for he was sure to be out of town for the week-end. Still, a telephone available, and by four Adela discovered that he was spending the time with bachelor friends up the river. This was a cause of annoyance in itself, but Adela determined that rt should not stand in her way. The cottage by the liver could be reached within an hour's run from town, and after a hasrv dinner at seven. Adela set out on her uncongenial errand. She cared little or nothing what might happen. It made no difference to her what her chauffeur thought. It was possible, however, that she might steal this interview with Denne without anybody being the wiser. She left her car in the town., and walked towards the cottage. \"sie had already written a letter, and loitered on the road for a minute or two, waiting for a probable messenger. He came presently in the guise of the human boy. whistling blithely to himsrdf as he walked along. Adela placed the note and a shilling in his band. "The shilling is for you if you earn it." she said. "You are to go up to that cottage and ask for Mr. Denne. You must put the note into his own hands, and be will give you a message, ' Yes 'or ' No.' When you come back to me. 1 will give you this shilling, and another one as well. Do you understand?" The boy -noddeJ and winked slowly. He was acquainting Adela with the fact that he quito appreciated the situation. She waited eagerly for his return, conscious of a strange trembling nervousness, the lilco of which she hod nevcr experienced "before. UsuaDy she was ready enough to laugh at the. silly affectations of tho women of hor set Which were given to prattle of their nerves, but she was beginning to know what tlhey _eaat. The boy returned wiEh a grin, of aafirfacfiqp <_ his .{ace.

"I 6aw the gentleman," he said. "He is coming now." The messenger took his two shillings ! a_d departed. Then the gate of the cot- ! tage opened, and Denne strode into the ! road. He had thrown a light dust-coat over his evening dress, and presented a sstriking manly figure as he came forward. There was more animation in his face than usual, and Adela fancied there was a tender pressure, in the grip of his fingsers. '"Why this mystery?"' he smiled. "I thought you were still at Callader Castle. But something has happened. I never saw you eo pale before. What is wrong?" Adela wns conscious her face was -burning. "Let us go somewhere where we can tssillc a little." she said. "Whai must j -in think of my coming all this way. ' nnd forcing iny,self upon you in this fashion? What will your friends say?" ""I don't think we need trouble about them,"" Denne assured her. "Your note was brought to me as I was dressing. The other men -were in their rooms. If •|we go through this little gate into the 'I grounds we shall be safe in the rose garden for half sin hour. You raea.n to say you came here to see me all alone?" j "I was bound to. T could not possibly poll anybody else. 1 made an excuse to 'i leave the Castle. They think I am spending Sunday with a friend who is ili. 1 drove here in my car. and left my man in the village." Denne la id a linn,! upon his companion's arm. and led her into'a secluded • corner o-f the garden. The rigidity of his ' face relaxed, and there was a look in his eves that ,■?.!_ed Adcla's -heart to beat faster. Siie h%d never seen him ■ with such 3 -,i expression before. That ■ he was glad to see her she knew intuitively. "Now." lie said, as lie led the way to ' a seal, 'no one is likely to interrupt lis. Tell me why you took all this trouble ' For the sake of a humble person like • myself. You must li-ave had a great deal of worry during the last few days. So your fairy g.-idfather turns out to be ■ Lord Samuel Mostyn." "Did you know that?" Adela asked. " "Well. I had some sort of idea," Denne 1 admitted. "We can come to that presently," ' Adela went on. "There are many ques- " lions 1 want to ask you when you have ' heard the reason ot" my errand. ] have * been finding out surstnge things lately, ' ir,-l now ihe strantres-t of all is the know- ' ledge 1 have obtained about the history 1 of the Saxon Vup." 1 Denne started slightly. ' "What do vou know about that?"" he ■' asked. ' "'I think T may ssay I know every- ' thing." Adela answered. "Paul Lestrine r obtained it for you in f'ermauy. For reasons best known to yourself, you con- * trived that the Saxon Clip should be rle- ' noshed at Callader Cas-'le where Mark ? Callader found it, and naturally came to 1 the conclusion that it formed part of the family heirlooms. But whv did yon put rt there? iHow drd you d-iscover Mark was selling paintings and works of art. and replacing them with copies?*' A half-stern look came to Denne's face. It was difficult to abandon the traditions and ideas of a lifestime, and he was evidently full of doubt. "■Pardon me," he said, "let me ask you a question before I answer yours. How did you learn that I had any hand in this matter? -Where did you he.aj the name of Paul iLestrinc? lam certain he never told you he was engaged in this transaction. I beg ycu to be candid " Adela flushed indignantly, "Have 1 shown any inclination to be • otherwise?" 6he demanded. "Do you ' suppose that T have taken this risk and ' compromised -myself frcmi any personal motive? Oh. can't you see that I am only too anxious to save you from the consequences of your stupendous rashness? I know that Lestrine is mixed up in this affair because I overheard him ' tell Callader and Marner so. He has be--1 frayed your inte-re-s-ts. and sold you for '■ money. If vou will only listen I will tell yon everything." 1 "I spoke in haste." Denne answered at • once, "a-nd shall be only too grateful to "hear your story." CHAPTER XXXVI. ' SO VERT HUMAN*. ■ Resolutely. Adela put aside all sense oi" conventionality. It fell from her shoulders like a disused garment. She was just a woman inspired with the hope j of saving this man from what he believed to be dire and imminent peri!. She had , already gone a long way to rescue him, * and had done so at great trouble and risk to herself, for she had absolutely J nothing to gain. But never had she , "been more thoroughly in earnest before. r Xo longer did she blind herself to tbe j truth. She knew she was not animated . by sentiments of ordinary friendship, 3 but was actuated by deep and genuine e love for Douglas Denne. Curiously, too, t now she seemed to have loved him from r the first. He had, indeed, become more f or less reconciled to the -fact that she s was the promised wife of Mark Oallai der, but she knew now that nothing r would induce her io keep her word. _ "What were IVsnne's feelings to her she » knew not. for of actual direct avowal of anything approaching to love, not a i syllable bad crossed his lips. But if _ she lost. Callader without winning Denne, . that did not concern her. She would . work for her daily bread rather than t marry Mark. » Nevertheless, suhtle instinct informed , her that Denne cared for her as much as r | she cared for him. He had not told her .I so in as many wrrrds, bnt she cherished I the look he had cast upon her when he ■ j met her to-night, when her visit could r' not possibly have been expected. A 5 | similar train of thought and hope doubtI ! less passed through Denne's mind. He - j could not gaze into her white pure face - j and doubt her loyalty, and the generous . j impulse which had prompted her to do . j this deed. He had always admired her . | daintiness and bcanty, but these carried . ; another charm now—the charm of sin- | cerity and naturalness, and a deep ahid- * ing affection. Adela did not realise how - far she had acknowledged the natural . sway of her heart. She did not know i that she was looking at Denne as a j mother might Tegard a ohild on the l brink .of terrible danger. As Denne > grasped all this, he recollected that . Philip Vanstone had never wavered in | i his declaration she was a woman worth , the saving, "fn spite of his danger, r. in spite of the knowledge that he had 1 done a rash thing, he vias conscious of - a buoyancy of spirits to which for many j years he had been a stranger. He had . found what he had been looking for t with an -ardour which he did not realise i. till this moment. j But this was not the time to speak. I - H-e could not take the shrinking girl in r his amis and cover her face with kisses. s His natural innate delicacy prevented •- him from so theatrical an issue. h " Tfc was more than good of you to j i, come," Denne said- " Now, let us dis-! t cuss this affair front a b_i_» s point cf a j view. You say sChat Kwd Lestrine _»i betrayed ute?*

" You may take that for granted," | Adela replied. " I heard the whole eonI versation. It began, in the first place, I between Callader and Marner. It was j rather a shock to me in a way, because I had always regarded Mr. Marner as a gTeat man in every sense of the word. I can hardly bring myself tc believe that he is little better than a felon." "Oh, he is certainly all that," Denne said with a dry smile, "and an exceedingly clever one. 1 have known this for some tune. There is a gang of expert thieve* who deal exclusrvely in valuable works ol* art. Thev have been carrying on operations for years. The prime movers keep themselves* in the •background, aad the most brilliant of • them all is Felix Marner. But his career is at an end. That bustUM's,, of j the Saxon Cap will wreck him. The pre- | siding spirit of the combine lives in Paris. Lie has posed for a long time as a man of great wealth and a prominent philanthropist. J heard by telephone this afternoon that he had been arrested and thousands nf pounds'worth of missing pictures discovered in his house. .Mark mv words, Marner will "be missing in a day or two. This will lie a fine scandal for the papers to exploit. So vou see. we need not worry ourselves about Marner. In any case. T know he will take care to obliterate himself, so far as any ehanro against me is concerned. But please go on, 1 have interrupted you." '■What was 1 saying?" Adela asked. "Oh. 1 remember. Mark Callader aud Mr. Marner were talking in the hall, and f listened. 1 ought not to have done so. hut. they were talking about vou. Douglas, and- I listened. Then 1 heard t.iie whol" scheme. rx>strine had come down to Callader to see Mr. Marner, and had offered, for -a large sum of monev. to sign a confession of the |>art he had played in (he mailer. Calla-dor was vet,- much upset -at lirst: he had no resourcefulness, and evidently thought he was done. Then Mr. Marner pointed out a way by whicli he could blackmail Ton—l think blackmail is the proper word. They decided that with Lr-s-trine's signed confession they could applv for a warrant, against you on the ground of conspiracy.'' Jl?" -.'•"•■' rnlll <i-"' »™*ic said coollv. "There ~ not the slightest doubt about that. 1 suppose the idea was to offer to stay proceeding for a hundred thousand pounds. Am 1 not right?" "That was it. exactly." ""Then thev went out into the garden, and had an interview with Paul lustrine, and I followed 1 . 1 am not ashamed to say that I heard every word. ft appears that Lestnne is suffering f rom consumption, must leave Knvrland at once, and wants money verv badly." "He ought not." Denne muttered. "Coodness knows. I have paid him well. But he has the gambler's temperament. I suppose he has lost it all in play." "*>So he said." Adela went on. "TTe would sign this confession for Ten thousand pounds. Xo doubt he has had the money by this time, because the appointment was for last night. l,es trine's idea was to disappear, and never he heard of again. Now, you know why I came to warn you of this terribic danger. Can you do anything to save vourself?" Adela looked up imploringly into Denne's face as she spoke, laid it trembling hand on his arm. She had never been so earnest or so moved in her life. In Denne's glance there was a certain something that comforted her. ami thrilled her with elation at the same time. 'She had naturally expected to see some change, some sign of annovanee or alarm on his part: but. if he felt this. there was not the. slightest t.race of it in his features. "I shall know how to thank you presently," he said, "for the moment I don't fee! particularly alarmed. 1 daresay I should have managed lo circumvent CaJlader in any case, and yet 1 might have to work in a better fashion. I think. It was a dangerous, not to say stirpid. thing to do. But we all make mistakes at times, especially when we allow our hearts to rule our heads." ''Did you do that?" Adela asked innocently. "Why. of course I did." Dcnno smiled. "You don't suppose I should have been guilty of such rashness otherwise. Will you believe me if I tell you that I embarked upon this enterprise solely for your sake?" "1 believe you. if you say -to." Adela murmured. "And now let me tell you something. All my life I have be»n a lonely man, and not thc less so because, so many people sought my friendship. When I was poor and struggling I was comparatively happy, because the men 1 knew Itest then valued me because I was only Douglas Denne. But my uphill fight, lasted long enough that real friends became extremefly rare. Ah! a true friend is the gift of God. When I made my fortune, and came to London. I had learnt to discriminate between the gold and the tlross at a glance. I daresay 1 should have been a good detrl happier had 1 not "been somewhat ot" a poet as -well as a capitalist, for I had the artistic temperament, which is not unmixed blessing. You would be surprised to learn what dreams I have had and how 1 have tried to reach the ideal existence. Nobody ever heard me talk like this "before, but you will know later why I am telling- you these things. You see. 1 was looking for a woman who would marry me without a thought for my money. 1 had discussed the matter over and over again with Philip Vans-tone, who is the only man in whom T have fully confided, and when I asked him to name such a woman, he did not hesitate for a moment, hut told me who she was. Can, you guess?" Adela shook her head. "'Do I know her?" "Oh, -yes, you know her well. When I heard the name, 1 was amused. One has to make allowance for poets, but Vanstone stuck to his point. lie begged me to see more of this woman, and study her for myself. I did so, and. to my great amazement, found that Vanstone was right. He has a far better insight into woman's nature than I have. The astounding part of the whole business was this; that the girl in question appeared to be one of the. most frivolous of women. As the acknowledged leader of one of the smart sete, there iwas no end to her extravagance and folly. Study ing her, I mixed much in her set, until a habit was formed, and became part an,] parcel of myself. What originated as a , sort of psychological recreation gTew to be the outstanding occupation of my life. Gradually I began to see that this woman, like most of its, was but the slave of her environment, for only one man or 'woman in a million can get away from his or her surroundings. Sometimes Fortune is kind, and takes matters into | her own hands; sometimes what appears I to be the greatest -blow turns out to be I the direct intervention of Providence. But why do you look at me with that puzzled expression: Can't you guess I am talking about? Surely, it is [quite obvious?" ! A wave of colour rnuhed over Adela's sface. She had followed Dermo with rapt attention, ard until this moment his | parable had puzzled her, Koiw she was [.beginning to iuttdera£_td 3 to aq? hour

closely his description fitted her. might have been offended; indeed, his outspoken candour had offered every excuse, "but she was not hurt at all. She saw that he was paying her the highest compliment in his power, that he recognised in her something which was worth the winning. It had been worth his while to interest himself in her. Ii had been worth bis while to rescue her from a fnture into which she was venturing deliberately and with open eyes. "Oh." slip stammered, "if you really mcan " She paused and started back. Then someone in the distance was heard falling Denne. and the smile faded from his fui-o. ""You had better go." he said; '"! will (see vou to-morrow." I (To be continued Saturday nest.)