THE LEATHER WALLET.

Auckland Star, Volume LVII, Issue 65, 19 March 1926, Page 12

THE LEATHER WALLET.

SHORT STORY.)

(By DEREK FAULKNER.)

(Copyright.)

Miss Ward came to an abrupt decision. Usually her decisions were the outcome of days of anxious thought, but now she was going to take a strange man into her home on no other recommendation than that lie looked-ill and weary, that his clothes were dusty and his face beneath layers of grime' bore traces of refinement.

He sat in one of the big chintz-covered ■chairs in the drawing-room of Rose Cottage, a place: of highly surfaces, <!im carpets and family portraits, his entire attitude bespeaking a weariness of-life that in one so young — he was about twenty-six, she thought—was a challenge to a woman of Christian principles.

•He had stumbled up the garden path aii hour ago. fainting, when Elizabeth, the elderly maid, had inquired his business. He had been revived and fed in the kitchen, and now awaited Miss Ward. . She stood for a- moment in the doorway, watching 'him, and then suddenly her faded blue eyes flashed. She crumpled the pound note in her hand and rustled forward.

"Don't get up." as he made a movement. "My maid tells mc you've neither home nor money but have just been drifting about the country earning meals and money by odd jobs. Is that right?"' Richard Brand looked up halfdefiantly. ' % "Yes/ His voice was unsteady and unlike that of a tramp. "I lost my job and couldn't get another, so [ just — drifted. When I collapsed I'd eaten nothing • for-tAVQ days."

He did not add' that he had served twelve months in prison for embezzlement, and that subsequent to his release employers had adopted the maxim that once' a thief; always a thief.

"Well," said Miss Ward, "T can offer you something better than that—at any rate until' you can make some other arrangement. I need a man about the place to keep the garden tidy, look after the pony, chop wood —and things like that. You can have a nice clean bedroom, good meals, and ten shillings a week. Supposing you stay six months, just to enable' you to recover your strength and save a few pounds?" If one of the angels had proffered the key to the Kingdom' of Heaven hk surprise could not have been greater, and in his ' present condition the parallel between heaven and the post of handyman at Rose Cottage - did not seem utterly incongruous.

"Thank'you, madam," he replied. "I'll do my best to show how grateful I am."

Mies Ward, was one of those women to whom rumour pins the old love letters, and pressed, flowers .of bygone, romance, when actually she was, one of those love-worthy women whose lips have known only paternal kisses.

She was sixty-five, small and frail, with rose-petal skin and faded blue eyes. She wore rustling silk dresses and comeo brooches.

At first. Elizabeth regarded Richard Brand with deep suspicion, but "at the end of; a fortnight she made grudging admission that it did seem.nice to have a man about the place. "". : . . and he's such a gentleman, too," she. added, "So polite he is, you'd think I was a lady."

He had been at "Rose Cottage ,, a month when temptation first assailed him.' He was going upstairs to'his room when his eye was attracted by 1 the safe in' Miss Ward's study, a tiny, rather bare room containing an oldfashioned safe. And it was wide open. A swift glance told him the room was empty. He trembled suddenly, took" a few steps backward, and was in the room.

He remembered her visit to the bank, for he had driven her there that morning in the quaint pony carriage. He recalled the brown leather cage under her arm, and the way she had clutched it close through the drive. At the time the incident had made no impression, but the sight of the open safe with its papers —and the case. ,• He caught his breath sharply. Miss Ward's voice sounded in the garden just outside. She was- coming back. . With a few strides he was out of the room and half way up the stairs when she pushed' open the\ etaiued-wlass door of ihe hall.

A desire for certain luxurious accompaniments to existence, not commensurate with a clerk's meagre salary, was responsible for Richard i Brand's downfall. His soul was for ever ■ bruising itself against: the. iron bars of circumstance. He wanted.passionately without having any particular:'talent i for .acquiring. He was -maddeningly -aware, that such mediocre attainments-as he possessed would never secure him .entry into that wider, "softer world he watched from afar. •'; >■ .-■ : : ' '.. -" ■ >-•;> }■

Aii<l~the; result had : been inevitable. Having snatched , a 1 promiscuous draught from the gilded.cup of pleasure, he had

paid the penalty, leaving prison with a stock of good resolutions. He would go straight. Honesty was the best policy, after all, but it seemed he had made this important 'discovery too late. He lacked the resource of the habitual criminal and, in consequence, repeated oners of his services met with curt refusals. . : , i . ■ • .

Now; in this safe haven, the urge for expensive pleasure possessed.him again, ami to-night the'greyish gloom of his room was a background for alluring .Visions of bright lights and golden wine, laughing lips and the swaying, rhythmic throng of dancers.

In the room below was money—per haps, hundreds of pounds. The hot, thronging clamour of his thoughts pursued him through the night, and when the dawn light lay warmly on the cream walls, he had not slept, but—lris heart throbbed hurriedly at the thought—he had arrived at a decision. He would rob the safe and set the silken heel of forbidden delight upon the quiet face of this stagnant life. "The responsibility isn't mine." he reflected comfortingly. '"The God who made mc knows why my feet are in the mud and my head'in the stars:" The day seemed endless. Thoughts of the crisp wad of precious paper soon to rustle between his eager fingers' tormented him.' ■ ■

But at last the sky was awash with daffodil tight; shadows emerged and lay on the smooth grass' beneath the sun-hot walls of "Rose Cottage." Early in the evening he interrupted Elizabeth's flow of reminiscences with a curt intimation- of weariness.

"I've a bit of a headache, too," he added —leaving the kitchen hastily ere she could suggest one of the many nauseous concoctions she swore by as palliatives to bodily ills. He packed his few belongings into a brown-paper parcel, smiling contemptuousy at the recent cheap additions to Ills wardrobe. A good tailor would R-ive an added grace to his well-knit figure; and at the thought of the suave luxury of silken undergarments he smiled. For two long hours he watched the patch of light on the lawn, indieatim* that Miss Ward was at work in her study immediately below. Ten booming chimes from a dim-faced clock downstairs. '. . .. He took off his boots and: crept stealthily from tlie room, down the stairs and through tlie stained-glass door, and in a few moments came to where the light' streamed on to the lawn. He drew closer and'peered into the lighted interior.

The small grey silken figure within gave him a momentary pang. She was writing,, but pres'enty laid down her pen and. went to the sofa,. returning with the leather, wallet. His heart, beat madly. Supposing, after all. it contained papers other than banknotes —equally valuable, but quite useless to him?

She drew out a crinkly batch' of notes, counted and replaced them in the wallet, which she then put back into the safe. She locked the safe aiid put the.keys in her desk; locked that and turned'out the light. For another hour he crouched be.neath the window. It was late September" arid a pale mist blurred the sharp, edges of moonlight and shadow. He watched'the silver disc swing beyond the fork of a tall tree that lifted denuded limbs starkly against the purple night sky.

- He opened the window without much difficulty and stood, breathing deeply, within the room. The pale glimmer of moonlight was sufficient illumination for his purpose. The desk yielded with a sharp crack and he listened apprehensively . .Then pulled out various drawers until his impatiently groping fingers clasped tlie bunch of keys. The wallet was in his hands. He quivered from head to foot. The money was his. The thought flqoded a, warm tide of anticipation over his'chilled body.

It was now midnight and he decided to tramp to a town 20 miles distant, and then catch the first train to London.

But he could not resist the temptation to sit down at the desk and count the spoils. Ten.£so.notes! His eyes glittered greedily. foOOi ■ .'. r 5 .

Among the notes was an unsealed envelope addressed,.to a Xon.don firm of solicitors. He turned it oyer curknisly, and made a gesture as if to, draw out the letter, but with a shrug /threw it among the litter of papers in the safe. Yet. nameless curiosity bade him retrieve it. Dear Mr. Smitbson, I was so pleased to receive jour letter telling mc that you had discovered just the little poultry farm I ueed. I will let you into .1 secret. I daresay you must liave wondered what an oltr woman like myself would be wanting with a poultry form. Well, ir is not for my myself. As you know. I have more than sufficient for my modest requirements, but just recently Fate • sent to my door a piece of human driftwood, a dear lad of whom I have grown very fond and whom I' am convinced has never had a chance. But r am goinc to give him one.' I shall call oh you two days, from now with the price of the farm in cash—you know I prefer cash transactions, and at the end of the week I shall 'hand him the key of his own little domain.

The sheet of • paper fluttered to . the ground. The startled look in his eyes was speedily replaced by one of horror; a little inarticulate sound dropped from his lips. With a sudden passionate movement he caught up the crumpled mass of precious papers, thrusting them frantically back into the wallet. His hands trembled/

"Oh, my God!" lie .whispered, and there was a note of indescribable wonder and loathing in his voice. "Why did you make mc so unspeakably vile?"

He moved towards the safe and then paused. Footsteps He thrust the wallet inside his cpat and listened. taking a 'backward step as a circle of

light slid across the carpet. Two dark forms were silhouetted against the wan moon light. " "Musta" bin expeetin' us. The bloomin 5 winder wide open!"

Brand's lip twisted in mirth. He patted his breast-pocket and withdrew noiselessly from the room. Seated on'liis : bed, he speculated tipon the disappointment of the 1 urglars downstairs. The house -contained no portable valuables, for Miss Ward's silver and the quantity of old-fashioned jewellery that- had been her mother's were at the bank. -

These ironic reflections were soon disturbed. Preceded by a hurried tap on its panel?, the door opened and Miss Ward entered. She .had ■on .a mauve dressing gown, • and thin, iron-grey plaits descended -from a white cambric nightcap.

"Ob!" she exclaimed, and then. "You've heard them, too. Please hurry." Hor voice trembled. "There's five hundred pounds in the safe."

He stared ■at her. acutely aware at this tense moment of a trifle—the sibilant quality of her voice', due to the absence of false teeth. Then he got up.;

"I'm going down to ■ them." He touched her shoulder. <; You stay here. Don't come "down whatever happens."

"You think—" She stared at him apprehensively. "Don't go —" But lie shook off her detaining hand, and went swiftly from the room. Miss Ward piling to the bannisters, peering fearfully into tlie vague shadows below. She' was conscious of Elizabeth behind her, but did not turn her head. She shivered as a vile oath broke the silence. There followed the impact of heavy bodies, panting breaths and trampling feet. . .

Her band went suddenly to her heart. A revolver shot—followed by a wild shriek from Elizabeth. "Oil. (!awd!" She commenced io whimper. "They've done for 'mi."

Miss Ward said nothing. Whitefaced and tight-lipped she descended the stairs. Midway she paused, catching, her breath as Brand staggered through the doorway with one hand pressed to bis heart. He looked up, and, reading the horrorstricken questioning of her faded blue eyes, forced a smile. 'It's all right—"

He thrust-a hand inside his coat, drew out the wallet, and' pointed to the bullet embedded in' it.

"I nearly lost my soul for this," was his cryptic remark, "hut to make amends it saved mv life."