' [■CopjTU.'ht.] m VAGRANT DUKE.

Auckland Star, Volume LIV, Issue 183, 2 August 1923, Page 14

' [■CopjTU.'ht.] m VAGRANT DUKE.

•By GEORGE GIBBS

Author of "The Splendid Ouirast,"] '■The Yellntr Dove,' , "The Secret etc. THIS BEGINS THE STORY. Peter Xicholaevltch. Russian Grand ]>ilke, exiled by revolution, goes to the I.S.A. as Peter Xlcliole. and itoes to work «n* the cKtato of Jonathan K. McGulre. Meliulre is being Mackinnlleil by one Hawk Kennedy. Kennedy tells Peter that. Mc4iipre killed Ben Cameron, fnth.-r of Beth Cameron. a girl nrlm has promised to marry Peter. McOuire sn.vs Kennedy did the killing. I'eter believes MclSuirc. ond resolves to cinniuvent Kennedy and at the sntbe time furve McCulre to pay Beth :l luijllon dollars, a modest share of the wealth Cameron had won immediately belore Uis dentil, l'eter receives word from l'rlncess Galltzln in London that the Bolxlievlki know his whereabouts and may kill him at any time. Beth iluds the letter. AND HERE IT CONTINUES. SSe.th slipped the note about a quarter cf an inch out of its envelope until 9'iie could just soo a line of the writing arid then quickly thrust it in again, put the onvelope on the mantel above the '■perlonr heater -, and rcsolutly went or. with her sweeping. l-"rom time to time Blft Stopped her work and looked at it jufet to be sure that it was still there, arid at last look it up in her fingers again, a prey to a more lively curiosity than any she had ever known. She put the envelope down .again, and turning her back to it went into the kitchen. Of cojirse Peter, would tell her who this lady was if she asked- him. And there was no doubt at all that it was a lady w&o had written the letter, some one familiar with a delicate mode of existebce and given to refinements which had been denied to Beth. It was this delicacy and refinement, this flowing inscription written with such careless ease a&l' grace,' which challenged Beth's rustigity. She would have liked to ask Pfter about the lady at once. But Peter would not be at the cabin at this early hour of tie .morning, nor would Beth bet able to" see him until late this afterjiaon—perhaps not until to-night. Meanwhile, .the note upon the mantel was burning its way into her consciousness. •It was endowed with a personality iV-minine, insidious and persuasive. No ladies of London affecting heliotrope envelopes had any business writing scentod notes to jPetcr now.' He was JjfetJi's particular property. pVhen she went up to the second floor iti > the cottage a few minutes later she rook the heliotrope letter with her and put it on her bureau, propped against tlie' pincushion, while she went on with ■her work. .Arid then, all her duties for tlie. morning finished, she sat down in her racking chair by the window, the envelope in her idle fingers, a victim of temptation. She looked out at the pine woods, her gaze afar, her guilty fingers slipping the letter out of its covering an iijeh, two inches. And then Beth opened PJjter's heliotrope note and' read it. At ]<>ast. she read as much of it as she could understand —the parts that were written in English, with, growing amazement and incertitude, .A good, deal of the English part even was Greek to lier, but she csuld understand enough to know that ajmystcry of some sort hung about the lrttef- amr about Peter, that he was apparently a person of some importance ti.the heliotrope lady who addressed him ill, affectionate terms and with the inmost freedom. Beth had learned in the French ballads which Peter had taught her meant - friend, and that bel meant bewutifuh" And as the whole of the paragraph containing those •sforde was written in Knglish, Beth had little difficulty in understanding it. What had Peter to do with the cause of Holy Russia ? And what was this danger to him from hidden enemies, which could make necessary this discretion and tfatclifulness in Black Rock? And.the list sentence of all danced before Beth's «*£es as though it- had t«en written in letters of fire.' "There is at least one Jfeart in London that ever beats fondly m memory of the dear dead days at {jfalitzin and Zukovov , ' KWhat right had the heliotrope lady's ijeart to beat fondly in memory bf dear dead days with Peter Xichols at Galitzin aMZukoro. or. anyone else? Who was «je? Was she young? Was she beautifiji? And what right had Peter given JJer to address him in terms of. such Xffection? Anaetaeie! ?'And jiow for the first time in her life, though to all outward appearance calm, Ifeth felt the pangs of jealousy. This letter, most of it in the queer-looking script (probably Bussian) that she could not even read, in its strange references in English to things beyond her knowledge, seemed suddenly to erect a barrier between her and Peter that could ntver te passed, or even to indicate a barrier between them that had always existed without her knowledge. And "if all of the parts of the letter that she eduld not' understand contained sentiment* like the English part that she could understand, it was a very terrible letter indeed, and indicated that this heliotrope- woman (she was no longer ,: lady" now) had claims upon Peter's heart winch came. long, before Beth's.' And ' if thia Anaetasic—other women, too. ' ..Beth read the letter again and then slipped it back into its envelope, while she gazed out of tnc window at the pines, a , iro>n.at her brows and two tiny lines curving downward at the corners 'of her ljn?. SBe was very unhappy. But she w*e angry, too—angry at the heliotrope -woman, angry at Peter, and angrier still at-hereelf. in that moment ehe Wot that, she had taken Peter Kichols withw/sT? a°l Th* I,e wae or ),ai, Si-. « to *I,,un1 ~un tl,at on, y the +hiT.T ' d "° w sl,e kwwr *brt SSfitfS* *• Wd better S° "aek to s , he had upon of ™*?3Z£? a c } o, V i l nt oi »»r point •hd a, «om|2? * u,unt » a renunciation ■ight- " You Jl eft tldß '»* Jt ■Wμ tlJe'l-i »i letter to sel«i»,-2£ 01, of ""Tying the it in. a. eoM^i^ 11 * nd th e r e leaving W.h«r that now Ht'io.wi, the i>ath tjirrtiiah

the woods. Gone were the tender memories, of the night before. If this ■woman had had claims upon Peter Nichols , iheart at the two places with the Russian names, she had the same claims upon them now. Beth's love and her pride waged a battle within her as she approached the cabin. She remembered that Peter had told her last night that he would have a long day at the lumber camp, 'but as she crossed the log-jam she found herself hoping that by some chance she would find Peter still -it home, whore, with a fine dignity (which *he mentally rehearsed), she would demand explanation, and listen l ing. grant forgiveness. Or else .. . she didn't like to think of the alternative. But instead of Peter at the cabin door in the early morning sunlight she found a Btrange man, sitting in a chair in the portico. smoking one of Peter's cigarettes, and apparently much at home. The appearance of the stranger was for n moment disconcerting, but Beth approached the la miliar doorway, her head high, the heliotrope letter burning her fingers. She had intended to walk in at the door of the cabin, plnee the letter in a conspicuous position where Peter could not fail to setit, and then return to her home and haughtily nwait Peter's arrival. But the presence of this man, a stranger in Black Rock, making free of Peter's habitation, evidently with Petri's knowledge and consent, made her pause in a moment of uncertainty.

At her approach the man in the chair had risen, and she saw that he was tall —almost as tall as Peter—that he had a hooked nose and displayed a set of irregular teeth when he smiled —which he did, not unpleasantly. There wae something about him which repelled her yet fascinated at the same time. "Mr. Nichols has gone out?" Beth asked, for something to say. "Yes, mice," said the stranger, hi inking at her wit!* his bleary eyes. "Mr. Xichols is down at the lumber camp— won't be back until night, I reckon. Anythin' I can do for ye?' , '•Xo, I " Beth hesitated. "I just wanted to see him —to leave somethin' for him." , - "I guess he'll be right sorry to> miss you. Who shall I say called?"' "Oh, it doesn't matter," said Beth, turning away. But she was now aware of a strange curiosity as to this person

w-lio gat, with such an air of well-being in Peter's chair and spoke with such an air of proprietorship. Tile insistence of her own personal affair with Peter had driven from her mind all thoughts of the other matters suggested in the letter, of the possible dangers to Peter even here in Black Rock, and the mtisterious references to Holy Russia. This man who stood in Peter's portico, whoever he was, was not a Rus- ' eian—she could see that at a glance and read it in Kis Rccente—lbut she was equally certain from Hie general character that he could be no friend of Peter's, and that his il>i%'nees here was not of Peter's choosing. ? "If ye'd like to wait a while -" He offered her the c'.ialr, but Beth did not accept it. "Ye don't happen to bo Miss PeggJ MeGnirp, do ye?" a?ked the stranger, curiously. "Xo," ri-pliod the girl. "My name Is Beth Cameron.' 1 "Beth ?"' "Cameron,"' she finished, firmly. "Oh " The stranger seemed to be examining her with a glowing interest, but hie look was clouded. Beth had decided that until Peter came explaining she had no further possible interest either in him or his affairs, but ill spite of this she found her lips suddenly asking: "Are you a friend of Mr. Xichols'?" Tlie man in the portico grinned somberly. "Yes. T guess I am—an old friend— before he came to America." "Oh!" said Beth quietly. "You've known him a long time, then?" "Ye might cay so. We were buddies together." "Then you knew, him in—in London ?" : The man grinned. "Can't cay I did. Not in London. Why do you ask?" "Oh, I just wanted to know." The gaze of the stranger upon Tier was disquieting. His eyes seemed to i>e smoldering like embers jufit ready to blaze. She knew that she ought to be returning, and yet she didn't want to go leaving her object unaccomplished, the dignity of her plan having already "been greatly disturbed. And so she hesitated, curiosity at war with discretion. "Would you mind telling mc your name?" she aeked, timidly. The man shrugged a shoulder anfl glanced away from her. "I reckon my name wouldn't mean much to yon." "Oh—l'm sorry. Perhaps I shouldn't have asked?" The stranger put hie hands into his coat pockets and stared down at Beth with a strange intrusive kind of smile. "You and Pete seem kind of thick, don't vel" lie muttered. "Pete!" ' "Pete-Xiehols. That's hie name, ain't it? Kind of thick, I'd say. I can't blame him, though " "You're mistaken," said Beth with dignity, "there's nothin' 'between Peter Nichols and mc." And turning heel, Betn took a step away. "There! Put my foot in it, didn't I? I'm sorry. Don't go yet. Ijvant to; ask ye something." Beth paused and found that the granger bad come out from the portico

and still stood -beside her. And as her look inquired fearlessly: "It's about your name, miss," he mut- | tered, and then with an effort spoke the ! word savagely, as though it had been wrenched from him by an effort of will, "Cameron . Your name's Cameron?" "Yes," said Beth, in come inquietude. "Common name in some parts—Oameron—not 6O common in others—not In Jersey, anyway " "I didn't know " \ "Iβ yer father livin'f he snapped. "No—dead. Many years ago. Out ! West." "Tseh!" he breathed, the air whistling 'between Jiis teeth, "Out West, ye say — out West?" ! He stood in front of Beth now, his arms akimbo, his head bent forward under the stress of some excitement. Beth drew away from him, but he came forward after her, his gaze still seeking hers. "Yes—out West." said Beth, haltingly. "Where!" he gaaped. "I don't know " "Was his name—was his name —Ben Cameron?" He shot the question at .her with a strange fury, catching meanwhile at her arm. "Let mc go " she commanded. "YouVe hurting mo." "Was it }" "Yes. Let mc go." The stranger's grip on her arm suddenly relaxed, anil while she watched his face in curiosity the glow in his eyes suddenly flickered out, his gaze shifting from side to side as he seemed to shrink away from her. From timidity at his Toughness she found new courajre in her curiosity at his strange behaviour. What had thie 6tranger to do with Ben Cameron? "What did you want to know for?" she asked him. (To Be continued daily.)