The Great Pearl Secret.

Auckland Star, Volume LI, Issue 254, 23 October 1920, Page 21

The Great Pearl Secret.

By C. iV. and A. M. WILLIAMSON.

CHAPTER XVI. THE GREY KOOM. Pat Claromanagh floated in a gi'ey sea under a grey sky. It seemed to him that the grey sea and sky were part of some existence after death. He vaguely remembered that lie had died. Jf it were not for the constant, heavy pair, in his head he thought that he could recall the whole incident. Yes, that was the word —'"incident. It hardly mattered now. and wasn t worth while racking his brain over. That tin hat of his was too tight—much too tight. But he waa too weak to lift his hands and take it off. Strange, though, that he should be wearing it when lie was dead! He must have been killed in the war Yet how long afro the war seemed! He had thought that a great many things had happened to him after the war. No doubt they were part of this dream — this long, floating dream—after death. Yet they were not grey like the leaden sea and the sky that fiiing so low over his head. They were beautiful, colourful things. Just straining to remember brought rainbow flashes across his brain. Out of these lights a girl's face looked at him. "Juliet!" he 'heard himself mutter, in a thick, tongue-tied voice. Instantly another face appeared and blotted out that of the girl. This one was solid and very real. It bent over him in the greyness—a man's face, somehow familiar, as if he had known it long ago—long ago disliked it: a fleshy bulk surrounded with hair. He loathed" it for itself and hated it for shutting out the vision of Juliet, so he closed his eyes. For a moment consciousness died down like a fading Ilame. Only a vast, vague greyness was left .and the tight pain of the tin hat. But when a few moments, or a few 3 - ears, had passed, a voice spoke. It beat upon his dulled intelligence 'like tfie strokes of a clock in the dark, telling an hour. Pat was suddenly keyed up to listening, because it was a woman's voice, and far down within himself he was aware that a woman's voice —a certain woman's voice—was the thing he yearned to hear. Strange! He was wide awake, and knowledge came to him that he was not dead after all, though he might be close to death. But he did not open his eyes, because, he could not bear to see that mass of flesh and hair again. He lay quite still. And he listened. "You are always hanging over him like that whenever I turn my back!" said the woman. "Why not? I do no harm," answered a man's voice with a rather soft, mouotonouijf'&Jtrign accent. Pat' that the voice'belonged to the fac«?yyl£ also had association with which were somehow impoiientSvvA. scene began forming in his £Ife<T"mihd, like bits of an old picture tieing matched together. A room withJ«iblae, and men drinking and smoking; a cleared space; a kind of stage; a girl dancing—slim, lovely, light as a fawn; long red hair waving back and forth —Lyda!—that was her iia-me. Lyda —something. He was at one of the tables, very young, only a boy. And the hairy man sat with him, talking, praising the girl. Markoff! He stopped, remembering, and listened again. "You'd do harm if you dared to," the woman said. "You'd like to kill him." "1 tink it will be better for us all it he die." said the man. "Much better! Much safer. But no violence. Let him go—fade away. I tought it would soon be finished wiz him. Zen he opens his eyes and look at mc. You hear him speak—some word." ''Yes, I heard him," the woman answered. "It's the first time 'he's made a sound —since, except a sort of groaning. I'm jolly glad. We don't want him to drop off the hooks. Not much!" ■"You are ver' foolish, madam. He can give your 'usband and ze* ozzers away. It is only mc who 'aye nozzing to fear. He do not see mc zere. Yet lam witness agains' anyones who treat mc wrong." "Pooh!" said the woman. "You're always harping on your power to hurt us. It's nil. The hunt's out for you, Mr. Markoff, or Halbin, or whatever you like to be. If we're keeping you for our own sakes because you haven't paid up, anyhow it's your game to lie low. You daren't show your nose outside this door. But for heaven's sake let's stop arguing. I'm for nothing in that part ol the business." "You 'aye all got some plan you try to work behiri' my back," growled the man. "I tell you enough tiiees, ze money will come!" "When it comes you'll get the pearls — if it comes in time. There's tho rub!" The word "pearls" was like a key. It unlocked the door of Pat's memory, and impressions flowed in. But they were confused, without beginning or end; and he lay motionless, hoping for more clues. He was conscious that the woman leaned over him. She brought with her a 'heavy Oriental perfume, and he felt a waft of warm breath on his face. "Are you awake?" she asked, speaking slowly. "Do you know what happened to hurt you—eh?" Pat did not show by the quiver of an eyelid that he had 'heard. "Wen 'c come back to himself, bineby, 'c will remember everyting per'aps, air I zen were will you all be?" the man wanted to know. "He never will remember unless there's someone to give him the tip. People don't remember with concussion," the woman said. v So that was what he Tiad—concussion of the brain! Pa-t wondered how he had got it. One of the impressions filtering back was of hitting a man and hearing him squeal. What had followed was a blant, like everything since. Maybe some other man had 'hit 'him —from ■behind. The woman moved away, and cautionsly Pat opened his eyes. The grey- , ness was still there, but it was more definite, more commonplace, as if belonging to earth and things of everyday life. He thought that he must be lying on liis back in a bed looking straight up at a low, grey ceiling. There were grey walls too, but he could not turn his head to see more, as his neck was still and painful. The light was so dim that he imagined it must be drawing towards dusk in a room with small windows partly covered with curtains. More talking went on at a distance between the man and woman. Sometimes it sounded so far off that Pat I wondered if there were an adjoining room with an open door. Presently, when all had been silent for so long that he had almost dozed off, there was a sudden explosion of voices. The listener fancied that there were two new ones,

both voices of men: and one lie recognised, though irritatingly ho could not attach the right narue-label. He kept his eyes closed, because h< , was fiure that the late-comers would look at him, and his caution was rewarded. .Someone turned on a light. The two new voices mumbled in sick-bed whispers across his pillow, lie caught a word here and there: again "the pearls,' "MarkofT," and- "the Duchess." The Uwt gave him an odd thrill. Juliet! She had been angry with him. How was she feeling now? Was she .seeking for him , .' Or did she give him credit for running oft" with the'pearls—or Lyua? or— both together.' The thought that this might In , so— probably was so—made him long to spring up and light his way to her, somehow. And perhaps he could not have resisted attempting to move had not a sudden noise snapped the thread of his thought. A quarrel had broken out between the men. All three voices rose s-harply. The woman intervened, and was rebuked. Then came a squall of rage, instantly stilled. The woman .screamed, and drew in her breath with a gasp. All was still again. "Hark!" whispered someone. The light went out. In place of the greyness night fell. Pat could hear the pounding of his own heart, and another sound almost hidden by the noise in his breast. He thought that stairs were squeaking under a stealthy foot. CTIAI'TKR XVII. TllK CKVSTAI/. ''Have you an appointment, madame?" asked tlie"eldcrly woman who opened the door of Madame Vcno'a Hat for Juliet. She was a person of almost oppressively respectable appearance, with grey hair"i>arted in the middle, gold-rimmed pince-nez resting on a thin nose, and a neat body clad in black silk. If Madame Veno needed a chaperon, her door-opener was ideal! Juli.-t had run urwlaira so fast that she w.i* bivathing hard. Pas-ing the olliee of "The Inner Circle" had dfe-giwted her. She felt contaminated, almost ill; but the sight of this woman was like a dash of cool water on a hot forehead. "1 have no appointment," she answered. "But —I came because of a message. I'm the Duchess of Claretnanagh.' , "Please to walk in, madam," said the woman, without any evidence of beinfi impressed. "I will'give you a private room to wait in." They stood in a hall, •vhite-panellod, carpeted with red. The spruce black silk figure threw open a door, and Juliet entered a tiny room, hardly more than a c-loset. The only furnishing consisted of a luxurious easy chair, a tahfe on wheh were magazines and a box of cigarettes. and on the wall a mirrror. This mirror was placed opposite the chair, and behind the chair was a second door. Anyone opening thus would see a rellected image of the fitter in the chair. As Juliet sank into the chintz-covered depths, the murmur of voices reached htr. Hie thought, in fact, that she heard sounds from two rooms, one on each aide of the tiny cubicle in which she had been put to wait. "Thio little hole is for special visitors," she told herself. "Probably that woman was ordered to br : jig mc here if 1 came. Madame Veno's room muPt be on tne right of this, and it's her voice 1 hear on that side talking to a client. On the left, I suppose, it's the ordinary waitingroom, full of people—jabbering to each other about Madame Veno and the wonderful things they've heard of her from their friends! lint I'm sure she means to sneak mc in ahead of them.' , Juliet was right. 7n less than ten minutes there was the. click of a latch, and the door opposite the mirror opened. In the long glase her eyes met the smiling ones of a pale, dark woman with a clever, somewhat common face. There was nothing mystic about her appearance, but, on the other hand, there was nothing meretricious, no attempt .at Eastern allurements. Juliet had already guessed from the ord'nary furnishing of that flat that Madame' Veno's metier waa clean, straightforward frankness, as opposed to the cult of dim rooms, purple curtains, and incense. Now this impression was confirmed. The one false note was a heavy perfume, such as some women adore and are unable to resiet.

"I'm glad to ccc you, Duchess,"' said the woman- "I hoped you would call, and I'm going to slip you in before the others wlio are waiting their turn. They won't know, so no harm's done! Will you come into my room?" She epoke cheerfully, briskly, rather more like an Englishwoman than an American, and Juliet -wondered if she were an English Jewess. The door led into an alcove of a fairsized room decorated in green. It wa-s as little as possible like the mysterious sanctum of an ordinary "'fortune-teller" or cry.-till gazer. Juliet had seen two or three of these in several countries. They had always been Egyptian—or reminiscent of Leon Bakfit. This might have been any woman's boudoir: but when .Madame Venu had drawn the thin green curtains, the place seemed to fill, with emerald dusk, like the dusk of dreams or the green dimness under sea. "1 suppose you think I'm not very 'psychic,'"' the mistress of the room remarked, placing a chair for her visitor at a table covered with a (square of green velvet. "People do think that! Then when they've consulted mc they're surprised sometimes. They get better results than from those who go in for what 1 call -scenery.' You know what 1 mean?' , "Yes," said Juliet, "I suppose I do know." "All T want to put mc in the right frame of ni'.nd is green." explained .Madame Yrno, "this kind of green twilight. , ' She switched away the velvet covering from the table. Underneath was a cushion, and a crystal which reflected the prevailing colour. Then she sat down opposite tin- Duchess. ■■The C'ountces told you what happened when I was looking into the crystal for her?' , she asked. "Madame de SaintviJle said that you saw something which concerned mc. But how did you know it concerned mc?" "Your fa.-c camp into the crystal. I'd situ your photograph and recognised you. Besides, I felt—l felt that you w ere in great trouble." ■'What else did you see in the crystal?" "I-et mc look again, now you are here, and see if the same thing comes." As she spoke, Madame Veno bent forward and gazed closely into the transparent ball on ite black base. (To lie continued Saturday next.)