THE CRIME ON THE FILM.

Auckland Star, Volume LIV, Issue 47, 24 February 1923, Page 22

THE CRIME ON THE FILM.

(Ati KICHTS RESERVED.)

CHATTER XXI. Muriel awoke, a- s-he hud awakened Hliv time (.hiring the last three days, and ■a,th precisely the same sensations. First, just ai- sifi'p withdrew its hold, there. i«< a 'burning picture of brilliant light like a wont- upon the stage. In the oentrt- of that picture v.as a man passionately embracing n woman. Then, a horrible ncn-r of something sweet and -lamp upon her fare, a struggling to breathe, and in-tead of sinking into oblivion eye- opening upon what she law now. She was in a Fiuall. luxuriously fur-ni.-lied room, lying upon v couch covered with many silken c-u-hioii-s. a eoueli which made a bed at. night. A halfdrawn curtain in one corner disclosed a little toilet tat>l;- i-.'vered wilh brushes nf tortoi.-eshell and gold, and cut-glass bottles of essences and creams. There was a comfortable armchair, a small cir. ruhir table, a litt!i» piano in a case of white and gold. But the walls of this place were panelled with shining rosewood and msihocruny. nn<l bore no pictures. The roof was vaulted, and lit by an oblong skylight of thick rrbbed glass. On either side of the place were two large porthole*, the pln-i of which had been smeared over on the outside with liL'ht paint. She was in a between-dc-ks cabin of the yacht Stella, and a prisoner.

With a drop sijrh she turned, lay upon I'.e.r .back, and stared "p at the root - There was harllv any ■sound. The yacht wa« at anchor somewhere, where she neither knew nor very jjr'-T.tly oared. She was in :i dumb apathy of pain and deep resentment, and almost longed lor death.

There came a rap at the oat>in door, then the sound of a key turned in the lock. A hard-faced woman in the black-and-white uniform of a stewardess entered.

''Sir -Tames tells mc to say. miss, that Vie will do himself the honour of paving you a visit in five minutes. Is there nnvtliinrr I ,-an fret you?' .

Muriel shook her head, and the woman departed with a c-rnel servile = mile.

Tlip girl, -with a jrreat effort. rou3ea herself from her listWsnpss. She went to the toilet shelf in the corner, .bathed her face and eye< with a little eau-de-Cologne, -and put her liair in order. Then she sat down upon tlie couch and ■waited.

In a iow minutes there was another tap at the floor, asain tlif sound of locks, ami Sir .Tamos Viping entered. Hia fresh-coloured face had grown eharp and -was inudi paler, his eyes were very ibriffht.

I smoke, 'Muriel?" he said, ac he sat derwn br tlic little taWe.

By GUY THQFNE.

Author of "When It Waa Dtrk," mto.

• She nodded and he lit a cigarette j For a moment or two there was a ail - ; ence, and then he burst out passion : atelv.

j "Muriel, why are you co cold to mc? ' The past is the past All that is over, '< as you very well know. \ou know, you" must know, in your heart of hearts that you will never have any on« so devoted to you as I am. My whole ' life is yours." I have no thought and no wish for anything else in the world but I you. Why prolong my pain—and yours also? Say the word 1 long to hear, and ' our marriage can take place within i twenty-four hours. The rest of your life snail be a dream of happiness." I Muriel sighed. ' "I have heard all this before." she paid, in a dull voice. "Tt is quite use- , less, Sir James. I will never marry I you. I shall never marry anyone." l "You think so now, but you will not 1 always think so. Muriel, I have news for you." At that she lifted her head and looked nt him for the first time. He thought he had gained an advantage. "Yes." he said, and there was a most convincing false sympathy in his voice, "yes, it is as I suspected. Antony West and Julia Blair are to l>e married by special license to-morrow." The girl quivered where she sat; shrank back as if she had received a blow over the heart. But in a moment ! she recovered herself, and the young I face set in hard linos, bringing out all [ the latent force and determination j which lay there under the soft and lovely contours. "Well," she said, "and what is that to do with mc?" "It must remove the last shadow of doubt from your mind, Muriel." "You mean the last shadow of hope! Thank you, but hope and belief are alike dead within mc." "Then if they are dead in one direction, look in another. My dearest, I am j not an ordinary man. I have more to I g' ve Tou than most, both of this ! world's goods and a passion, a lqVe that will never fail." One side of her lip lifted—it was a trick she had, and gave her an expression of extraordinary hauteur and disdain. "How dare you speak of love, you who drugged mc and have imprisoned me—a treacherous criminal, a stealer of girls!" Slip laughed dreadfully, and her words stu ig him like whips of steel. "There is no tool like an old fool," she went on. "You have only stolen my body, and you can capture nothing else. Even that is only a temporary thing. I am woman of the world enough to know that the hue and cry must be out for mc. How- ' ever cunning your precautions, there

are those searching for mc now who will discover at least how and by whom I was kidnapped. It can be but a few hours more, and,then you will be paying the penalty for what you have done." The man leant back in his chair and carefully lit another cigarette. Then j for the first time that cruelty which is always so near to the baser kinds of love showed out upon his face and transformed it. "There is no one searching for you," | he said in a quiet voice, and with a cold smile. There was such a calm certainty in his tone that Muriel's heart grew cold within her. "Do you. suppose," he went on. "that I have loft anything to cliance?" lie put his hand in his I pocket and withdrew a sheet of note--1 paper of a curious ribbed grey. It was i the sort that Muriel always used herI self, and she had left a box of it in her I room at St. Abbas. He handed it to j her, and glancing at it she started vioJ lently. I It was a letter, and in her own hand- ! writing! It was a short, despairing I note written to Antony West, stating i that she knew all. and bidding him fare- | well for ever. "To-night," it concluded, ''I am going into Weymouth, and am leaving for London by the midnight J train. Neither you nor anyone else will I ever hear of mc again." Her o«n handwriting! And yet she had never written a word of it. ] "What does this mean?" she whisl pered, for she could not speak aloud. j Sir James smiled again. He seemed ! to be enjoying the situation. "A letter, ! the precise image of that, was in AnI tony \Vr-t's hand? on the morning of : your disappearance," he said. "There I was also one left on the table of your sitting-room and addressed to your landlady, which said that in a few "days j you would be sending for your effects ! and enclosing her the money for your i week's rent, etc." "But F never wrote ——" i "No. but even now yon can't believe ■ that this is not your handwriting. It is i not. but it has been imitated by one I of the cleverest experts in that sort of I thing who exists. Moreover, there is j other proof. You wrote to the Weymouth Motor Company to send ' a car to meet you at eleven o'clock at night by the cross roads at Todd's farm. The car arrived, you entered it, and were driven to Weymouth station. You took a third class ticket for London. The driver of the car swears to this, also the porters and ticket-office clerk at the station. There is also your letter to the Motor Company. It is known to everyone that of your own free will you ran away from St. Abbas. So. you see, my dear Muriel, there has been no public search for you as you imagine." Slowly the girl began to realise the devilish net in which she was enmeshed. ''Certainly," Sir James continued, "It was a very finished piece of work, but it was carried otit by a master, an artist, in such matters—never mind who. You are not perhans aware that Miss Julia Blair has a French maid of much the same height and build as yourself. It was that lady who, dressed in your own skirt, cloak, toque, and veil, went to Weymouth in the car and proceeded to ! London. You will notice that you are

wearing other clothes than those In winch you met mc outside the Chantry three nights ago." Then .Muriel saw it all. To Antony. to everyone, she had gone out of their lives by her own wish. Xo one knew where she was. She had not a single friend in the world working for her. She was utterly, finally in the power of this man, who sat nervously lingering his trim grey moustache, and gazing at her with triumphant hungry eyes. "Her lover had deserted her; there was now no longer any doubt that she had been deceived, that he was like other men, and the truth was not in him. nuge sable clouds had risen from behind the towering mass of Portland, and were rushing over the bay far ahead. The cabin grew dark and filled with a grey, hopeless twilight. The girl's vitality seemed ebbing slowly away. The very end of all approached, and in that despairing moment she sent up a wordless cry for help—one last despairing petition, one supreme call to (iod. The sun which was sinking over P.ridport and Lyme Itegis far away to the west sent one long ray across the waters. It hit I'.ie mHilled i.'lass of the porthole on the starboard side of the I vessel, and poured into the dim cabin. Between Muriel and the grey man in the grey dimness at the other end of the cabin there lay a bright sword! It was as though it had been thrust through the ship's side, for the light took on the very shape and substance of t> sword, and as. holding her breath, Muriel stared at it, it wheeled round slowly until the point went towards the heart of James Viping. Simultaneously there cam*- over her sn.-ii a gladness, such a supernatural assurance that all was not yet lost, that she could have cried aloud with joy and greeting. It was as though horrible grey veils of illusion were suddenly swept away. j How or why she did not know, but Faith [ banished the web of deception in which [ she had been wrapped by evil powers. Yes! She knew it in one divine moment of revelation—now, as always, underneath were the Everlasting Arms. The wheeling sword struck and passed. For a moment the cabin sank into utter darkness. Then with a loud oath Yiping snatched at an electric switch and it became brilliant again.

He saw the girl's face chance beyond all recognition. He paw something there which filled him with the bitterness of baffled desire. He hear.l her lunch, low and sweet—not a lauirh of triumph, hut a laugh of utter confidence—as he fled from the cabin, filled with a fear for which he had no name.