THE PLOT THAT FAILED.

Auckland Star, Volume XLVII, Issue 172, 20 July 1916, Page 10

THE PLOT THAT FAILED.

By EDGAR PICKERING. , .\ ■ ■; Author of "The Secret Marriage," "A Winning Hazard," etc. CHAPTER XXXI. T'H'B NEWS THAT GAME TO COBbEXZ. Upon quitting the hotel Dundas directed his steps towarde No. 7, Doraklostcr Platz. Elsa had given him her address, and his object was to obtain come information regarding Severne, righth- guessing that she had seen him. There could have been no other reason for his having come to Cologne than his infatuation for her. and he must have discovered her by sonic means which Dundas did not trouble himself to think out. AVhy Severne had left the city so hurriedly could only be because he had taken alarm. So lie reasoned as he made his way to the house where at that moment Elsa was sitting immersed in the misery of her thoughts. The arrival of someone who had asked to sec her at once was a welcome surprise, and at seeing Dundas she held out her hands in greeting him. "I'm very, very glad you've come. Mr. Dundas." slie said. "I never thought to see you again *o soon." -i' havp just heard, that Sc-vcrne has been in Cologne. Am I right in supposing he found out where you lived?" he asked. "I met him in the Ha'tz this evening." Teplied Elsa. 'He insisted on speaking to mc, and what could 1 do? I was helpless to prevent him from walking beside mc, and then " "Wei!, what happened?" and Dundas waited for her to go on. She had stopped, abruptly overcome by an emotion she could not control, "I had purposely kept away from the places where Gerald might possibly have seen mc You told mc was in Cologne, and 1 didn't want to meet him. 1 had made up my mind—but I have explained all that before. ll<>- and 1 could never bo as we once were." and she brushed away her tenre. "1 don't mm.l telling you this. Mr. Duudas. I had done my utmost to hide myself from Gerald, although it almost broke my heart to know ho was so near mc." "I understand." "Then think "hat it meant when Gerald saw mc speaking to Mr. Severne," she went on. "He was not very far off us. and perhaps I ought to have explained how 1 came to be talking

to Mr. Sevprnc. I was too proud to do that, for Gerald would not have believed mc. so ] hurried back to the house." "What did Severn? do' , "I don't know. I was only too glad to escape to notice him.' , "I have just heard that lie was seen going off to Coblcnz. and the curious thing is that Gerald has disappeared. He ought to have come back to our hotel long ago. I have left a letter for him savins I am following Sevemo by the next train for Coblenz. - ' "Do you think Gerald has gone there':" "I hope not," replied Dunda.s. "If ne meets Severne 1 wouldn't answer ' ■ the consequence?. I know Gerald too veil not to doubt what he would do." "Let mc go with you. Mr. Dundas. I haven't mentioned it before, but 1 am leaving my situation to-morrow, and meant to have returner) to England. Takc-me with you to Ooblenz." "There would be nothing gained by that, Miss Armitage," he answered. A sudden intuition that Gerald in peril had come, and she !aid her band on Dunffae' arm imploringly. "I am certain Gerald i 3in danger," she said. "Ke U quite able'to take care of himself," replied Dundas. "Naturally I'm wondering at his going off without saying a word, especially when he is particularly wanted." If EUa had been anyone else he would have refused her request. She , was

quixotic and impetuous he quite realised and there was nothing more &he .coul.l be called upen to do at present, but her distress of mind and lonely position appealed to his c'.iivalrous nature, and determine 1 him. "Very well. I.rt it bo as you wish. Mis Arrcitagc. When can you be ready to start?' , "I am ready now. Yea, I know I ought to go through the formality of saying goodbye to the people here, but it's not necessary. The new nurse has come. Do you think I could stay patiently knowing what I do—dreajin'g what 1 do? I want to hear everything —to be quite sure. I'm afraid.' , "Then we won't linger." answered Dundas. "1 don't share your fear, Miss Armitage." In a few minutes they were in the Platz. There had not been a word* of leave taking on the part of Elsa, whose face betrayed the anxiety which tore at her heart, and Dundas Vras blaming himself for permitting her to go with him. The whole thinpr was irrational and useless—Elua would only be an impediment when they got to Coblenz. and worse than all. he had the unpleasant impression that Gerald would resent his efforts in effecting a reconciliation should Elsa and he meet. So he made an attempt to persuade her to stay in Cologne, but she was firm in her rcsolu-

tion to accompany Mm. " Very good." lie said finally, " 4 but, honestly, there is no need for'you taking the journey." " I've made up my mind," she answered quietly. " I only want to know that no harm has happened to Gerald.' , and Dundae said no more. A train for Coblenz started at midnight, and in the early hours of the morning they arrived there. Having seen Elsa to a comfortable hotel, Dundas paseed the time until daylight without retiring, and as soon as possible he began his inquiry after Severnc. but without eliciting , any information. No car had arrived during the night, or at least none that he could hear of. and he began to doubt Mr. Crimp'? story. Then the first whisper of news drifted into the town of something which had happened on the Cologne road, some distance from Coblenz. Dundas was in a little garage whien he overheard a whisperod talk between two mechanics. Nothing which anyone would hlave taken notice of ordinarily, but his nerves were at a tension and possibly—yes, he could not be mistaken—an accident had occurred, and the German workman had made an expressive gesture ac he heard h>s fellow workman describe it. Dundas spoke to them. "What was the aocident?" Vc inquired. " Nothing -was known exactly," replied the man, "but the rumour went that a gentleman was dead." "It happened during the night, so one heard," he added. "Not an ordinary accident, ftfsieur, but all would be known presently." "Where can I hear the particulars?" asked Dundas, with a presentiment that in Ffvme way Gerald was connected with

the catastrophe. "\\ hat more did the rumour say?"

A third man had come into the garage, eager with news, and Dundas fert a thrill of .expectation. The newcomer was n gesticulating Frenchman, and his voice was raised almost to a shriek. " They were two English'," he cri,ed, " and one is already dead. Sec then," and the man made a dramatic motion of his outstretched hands. "They met, these two. and one js discovered lifeless. The other escapes. One car is disabled. It is Jacques Leroy— Jacf]ue3whiocame last, week to Coblenz — it is he who can tell all that has happened.*' Dundas had caught the voluble speaker by the arm. "' Do you know the name of the gentleman who has been injured?" he asked, "Xot T. M'sieur. Jacques—the Gologno chauffeur, he arrives in a short time, and can tell you; I know no more." Should Elsa be told what he had heard? And Dundas stood silent as he debated with himself. As yet he knew nothing positive, but if Gerald had overtaken Severne, something tragic must have occurred. Which of tho two Englishmen was dead? He must find out that before speaking to her. and as he decided thus a motor car dashed up to the door of the garage and a gentleman alighted and came in. A gendarme was ?eatcd in the car. supporting an insensible man. and Dundas stepped to. it, giving a cry as hie looked down on the bloodstained face. • CHAPTER XXXII. From the tangle o' narrow streets in which Gerald had lost his way after following Severne out of Domkloster Platz, he emerged into a broad thoroughfare unexpectedly at the moment when the car in which Severne was seated came towards him. and in the keen light

of a street lamp his face was ucen distinctly. There had been a mutual recognition, and Spverne'3 sneering look served to incense him afresh. The knowledge recently gained of Severne's imposture, combined with what had been seen half an hour ago, determined Gerald to bring him to account at all risks to hintedf. and at once. A row of taxis was clo.se by. and calling one off the rank he ordered the driver to follow Se,vernc\s ear. that, had sped out of the street too quickly for him to sec more than the pale-faced man seated in it, but he wa<s able to give the direction.in which it was gone, and in a few moment* the taxi had left the city behind, travelling swiftly on the road leading to C'oblcr.z, and after a short time a red glow in the distance was seen. He ivas able to take a clear view of the position now, and to form a course of action. Sevprne's flight proved him to be aware of h'ts danger, and that lie was doing hie utmost to evade it. But forcmoi-t iv Gerald's mind was the recollection of what he had sepn in the Domkloster Platz, and a sort of Berserck fury possessed him. He dare not think of Klsa, or, at least, he was trying not to— it was the man upon whom his vengeance should fall, and a* he watched the rise and fall of the red light ahead of him a gloating thirst for the moment when they should meet brought an unnatural calmnoije. to him. Upon seeing that Severne's car had come to h standstill for some cause.

Gerald urged his own driver to increase hie speed, and in a short time he Ava's clo6e,to the spot where the, disabled car was standing. ' Scvernc wae talking to the chauffeur as the taxi drew up, and in , ihe misty, bewildering light of the lamps he peered forward, not heeding the arrival of a stranger beyond a casual glance. The chauffeur was hidden behind the bonnet of Severne's car, and a<s the taxi drew up the driver joined him, trying to find tbet cause of the engine trouble, and discussing it in muffled tones, so that Gerald '.ras not observed ac he got out. Severne was in the shadow of the car, and for an instant neither spoke. It was he -who broke the silence with a forced laugh. "You came at rather an unlucky moment—unlucky for roc. that i»,"' he bc£an with n coolness that betrayed neither anger nor surprise. "I didn't anticipate nicotine you, Dr 1/oigh. - ' -"'Evidently.'* replied Gerald, "but ■ I'm not in the mood to discuss whether or no our meeting is unlucky, 1.-et us come to an understanding. There will be rio need to employ force, 1 hope, but you are from? back to Cologne with me.' , "May I ask ivhat you mean by that?" and the question was put quietly. "I mean s this," answered Gerald. "Leaving out every other question between v.=. I shall charge you with being an impostor and accessory to the death of Ferryman. What other crimes you are guilty of remain to be discovered." In cooler blood Gerald would have spoken more discreetly, but the effrontery of the man. the insolence of hie tone and attitude, enraged him. and it wns difficult to maintain his selfcommand. "You arc cither drunk or mad," replied the other, "and 1 am not accustomed to be spoken to in this way. Is it your intention to compel mc to go

back to Cologne? I think it rather foolish of you to threaten mc." "Enough of this,' , exclaimed Gerald. "The game is up, Mr. Julius Ingledew." For an instant the man addressed thus seemed to shrink, as though a blow had been struck, then he had recovered himself, and with a jeering laugh attempted to re-enter his car, but Gerald thrust before him. The conversation ■was unintelligible to the two men bending over the disabled motor, and neither paid heed _to it, whilst Gerald's hasty movement was unobserved. He was standing at the door of the car, and Severnc had retreaW to a short distance, eyeing him with a wolfish drawing back of the thin lips, and murder in his soul. "You shall answer for this, Leigh,' , lie snarled. "Do you auppose I am going to submit to your insults without defending myself?" "1 tell you the game is up," reiterated Gerald, "and you have been discovered. You are Julius logledetr. Where Amyas Sevenie may T>e Heaven only ! knows, but you shall not escape mc this I night although you had the strength of ten men." "It ia evidently useless "fo arsrue with you," replied the other, and hU voice had aA grating sound, "and I have no wish to engage in an uneeemly brawl!" He had moved to the Tear of the car. ■where a. tool bog lay open, and picked up something which in the black shadowGerald did not see him do. He had decided' as he glanced towards the taxi that unless Severne submitted quietly to enter it, he should he fofced to do so. "I have no time to waste arguing." he answered. "You will get into my car at once." Severae had stepped aside, keeping one hsnd concealed, and as Gerald came forward he iprang upon him, dealing a fierce downward blow with a. heavy spanner. All the murderous thoughts that huA filled his mind from the

moment when he looked out from the garage door in Cologne, had concentrated in action at last, and -without a. sound, beyond the fall of the spanner as it crashed upon his unprotected head, Ceratd fell to the ground. Twice the Wow was repeated upon tne mutej prostrate bo.ly. and then Severne fled into the darkness. Now that the deed had been done, the realisation of the conseqnences raised such a frantic, unreasoning s fear that all thought of continuing hie journey wae forgotten, and at headlong speed" ho ran across the open country, leaving his victim lying bleeding in the black shadow o£ the car. There one of the chauffeurs found him. The crime had been done 60 swiftly, so silcntlr, that neither he nor his companion were aware of it until their examination of the engine was over. Then what help was possible was given, and Gerald's helpless body' v/as placed in the taxi and carired to Coblenz. All this was done as speedilj' as the bewildered men could accomplish it, but some hours elapsed , before the news was known. Of Severne no trace was to be discovered, and no particulars could he given of the affair. The two chauffeurs saw nothing nor heard anything of it, they averred in answer to the questions put to them. {To le continued eaily.)