THE HOUSE IN THE FOREST.

Auckland Star, Volume LVIII, Issue 90, 18 April 1927, Page 14

THE HOUSE IN THE FOREST.

BY KATHARINE TYNAN

Author of "A Mad Marriage," '"'Denys. The Dreamer," "The Moated Grange," etc. CHAPTER XVIII. There was a stirring of the servants in the house. Bridget had flown downstairs and caught M. Pierre, the butler, in a disarray of shirt and trousers and loosely hanging braces. "Send at once to the Forest Lodge," she said. "Send all the men you can collect. There has been a lire there." She was white and terrified. Had that poor thing come back and been burnt with the house? She could hardly dress herself for the nervous fumbling of luu lingers. "I shall come with you," Elspeth said. "Peter will not waken for hours yet. I can lock the door and take the key." "Come when you are ready," Bridget said. "1 shall be'dressed by the time you ar. You will find me in my room. If I am ready first I shall go on." "1 will be ready as soon as you." , Flspeth said. "I am not going to make, a toilet, nor are you." Bridget made a perfunctory toilet in the obscure room. She had not troubled to turn down the lights. She had passed Sir Philip's room on tiie wav down, meeting nobody. For a second she paused and listened. All was still. He must be sleeping. F.lspeth was ready as ~<>on as she was and they started * off together. But before going Elspeth put the two keys bv which the nurseries were entered into the cloek-case of the big grandfather clock, a splendid piece of furniture which stood in the little hall of the

suite. They were well on their way hurrying fast befoTe Bridget broke the silence. The dawn had come and it was stil raining heaviy. '"I wonder why you did that ':" Bridget said suddeny. "Did what?" "Lock in Peter with such car* as thought something threatened him.' , "Something might. One can't bp too careful of such precious things. I don't very much like some of the people of the house. It is such a pity for it is a good house, a generous house —that there should be anything sinister about it." * "1 wonder why Mr*. Ware hates me so much," said Bridget, ""Sne hated me from the beginning." Kspeth ganced at her. They were walking hard and she. was a little breathless.

"The common obvious suggestion would be that she was jealous. Sir Philip is a wonderful person. 1 think she is only jealous of your interfering with his plan*. She is not in love witii him." "She is very devoted to him." "I watched her face when I forced myself into the room last night with my offer to take part of the nightwatch. He had just had a spasm of pain. Her eyes uj>on him were coldly curious. Bridget, we- must not let it go on. We must have a doctor whether he likes it or not." They met Antoine at a turn of the avenue. He was looking pale and agitated. The pallor with his dark skin made a curious leadenness of look. "You will not go further, ladies." he said. "There is but a heap of ruins. The police must come. They will have to search when the ruins are cold, for human bones. Le vieux eamarade." Suddenly he threw up his hands and rushed from them. "I should not have thought he had I such sensibility," said Klspeth. "They fought together before Verdun," said Bridget for all explanation. Then she had another thought. '•I wonder if lie thinks the tire was caused accidentally,' she said, "by the tire we lit." "More likely the poor creature, coining back frozen to the bone, threw on everything he could find. I have seen a madman dance about a fire before now even though it burnt him. He would have had time to escape before it took hold." "You think that!" Bridget said, stopping short and staring at her. "Then the horror would be gone. Certainly he was not chained. He had filed the chain through and left some link? of it hanging." "The chain.'" Elspeth's voice was full of horror and amazement.

"\es. I did not tell you that he must have been chained to the wall at one time. It was he who dragged the chain the night I thought it was a bear." "But how horrible! That cruel woman! To think that such things could have happened without our knowing. She ought not to be left in charge of Sir Philip—not for a moment." "Hβ believes in her. She lias been looking after him for four years." Elspeth could think of nothing else but the poor creature in the fireless and foodless house chained to the wall. "I suppose lie wandered." she said, "and then the woman put him beyond the question of wandering, as she thought. She must have forgotten him then when she left him hungry and cold. It cries to Heaven for vengeance.*' "We should have known," said Bridget. "I heard him crying when I passed by. Isn't it terrible to think of his crying:" "It is terrible.' .

"I wonder if she has been playing tricks with us, that woman," said Elspeth suddenly. "She used to go to the kitchen to cook for Sir Philip despite Kate's resentment. She would have had access to the food. I was not well, you remember, and thought I should have had to go away. > That girl, Rose, was not well. I have been cooking everything for Peter upstairs, myself." "Good heavens, Elspeth, you don't mean to suggest that she is a poisoner." "It might be the cold weathej," said Elspeth with a hardening of her lips that took away the habitual soft brightness from her face. "It might be drains or food pollution of one kind or another. But, personally, I would not allow her to nurse a cat." "We shall be able to get through a message to Dr. Ambrose to-day." Bridget, said. "'The police must be sent for, too. I shall have to tell Sir Philip." The dogs came to meet them, fawning upon them as they approached the house. The dogs had been depressed since Sir Philip's illness. They had gone into his room &s they liked, scratching the first thing in the morning. Mrs. Ware had banished them, driving Wolf from even his accustomed place by his master's door. She disliked and feared dogs, and Pierre had been called up several timt-s to remove Wolf, who, however, always returned to his place as soon as the ejection was completed.

Bridget made her toih-tte upstairs. As she went downstairs to breakfast shknocked at Sir Philip's door. It w;t s opened by Mrs. Ware, looking haggard and weary

"He is much better this morning." *hc >aid. "He will get up after lie lias li.nl lus breakfast. He is what you Kngli:-!-. all himself. I have nursed him well.'" "Is that you. Uridjret ?'' Sir Philp •ailed out cheerfully. "I am well and full of. energy this morning. Uianks to nn I excellent nurse, i should not like you j to see me till Antoine has taken olT*inv| beard."' Mrs. Ware stood, holding the door \c < slightly ajar. She frowned, lookini: backward. ; "Vou must not be in too much hurry,"' she said. •'You shall rot, sir."' ' | "I shan't stay in hod. Bridget," Sir Philip called out. "My excellent nur>would keep me a month if .-he could. J shall appear at lunch.' , Mrs. Ware came out into the corrido\ closing the dour behind her. Wolf growled and bristled at sight o t' her, ting up and iiiu\ ing a little further aw i\. CHAPTKR XIX. Mrs. Ware's complexion and hair. her looks generally, hail Millered bv her night's vigil. She had a limp di<fanged look. She had rouged earelesslv and behind the splash of colour her skin was sallow and sickly. She looked many years older than she was accustomed to look. "1 waited to tell you." said Bridget, staring at the woman's face in the cold light. How had she over thought her pretty! The morning light was not kind to Mrs. Ware. ''Something has happened;" She did not wait to pick her word?. The memory of the chain hangiii" to the wall, the crying and sobbing like a great child or an animal in pain, of the poor afflicted creature hardened her. "There has been a lire at the Korot Lodge." she said. Mrs. Ware looked at her. Something had leaped to the woman's eye-, plainly visible before she dropped the lids, over them. What was it—anticipation, exultation, fear and hope—ilelianee? '•(Vision is not hurt:"' she said. "My poor brother! He is not hurt!" . She made an odd little movement ot her shouhlers. It might have been as though she straightened them from a load which had bowed them. "No one knows," said Bridget. '-They have not yet examined the debris." "He will have set it on fire him*clf, r said the woman as though she repudiated :< charge. "He would always plav with rtrr, like a great baby. That wawhy he had none. One could not treat him like one who hail reason—moil pauvre GnMon!" , Suddenly there wa- a change in lie] expression. She was staling at some thing behind Bridget and her face lnui gone a strange mottled yellow anr purple. The rouge iVared horribh against that blanched and spotted skin Mrs. Ware's usually smooth eomplexioi had thickened as though <-he. was ic\ colli. Her teeth chattered in her head

• Briilni't stated over her -boulder in • the direction the woman's »azo had; taken. "There u nothing, nothing." -In- ?ai<l. Wold growled mnl crept by the wall.' That affected Bridprt iiinrv'thHti Mrs. | Ware's terror. For a second there was a feeling of icy chill. Mrs. Ware controlled herself a> by a strong impulse. She pulled mil a handkerchief and it o\or her lip-, nervously. "I have had n shock." she -.aid. "Mademoiselle has l,cen too abrupt. 1 liavo ntir.-ed so many in the war and they have died terribly. Madenioi-elle has not my memorie-. Mon pain re Gaston. If Mademoiselle will excuse tin , —f am not very well." She went away down stairs, walking uncertainly, a hand touching the banister as though site needed supportBridget would have gone on her way but Sir Philip's voice called her name, and she. opened the door and went in. He was dressed and sitting by a bright lire. He looked up us she calm , for 1 ward ana held out his hand. "Stay with me for a few minutes, Bridget," he said. "Madeleine has gone to fetch my breakfast. -She is always slow over it. for she will prepare the things herself. Sit down and tell me all the news. You see 1 am much better to-dav."

"If you lia<l not Ihmmi." -aid Rriilpt-t. sitting down farinp him, i should have insisted on a doctor." '"Would you. Hrid".Pt? You would have tiiki'ii it into your own little hands, oh? Hut you see there is no need." Madeleine is all invaluable nurse. While the pains were had I kept Rteelinj; myself to the ordeal of to London to see a specialist—l could not trust little Parrieh. He told Ojrrjis he had a fatty heart, and poor is a hale and hearty man after ten year.-. It was only indigestion." '"If you were to he very well and very happy," said Bridget, jjri'ntly darinp, '"would you sec the man who cured a woman after she had been twelve years blind V It was some strange nerve trouble. He is in America.' , '"If 1 was as well and as happy a> I could desire you should do what you would with me, Bridget—even take me Jto America. But you have not told me your news. How stormy it was in the nipht! Has nnythin? fallen down? A chimney pot, or one of the hijj elms in front of the house? I thoupht I heard a commotion in the dark hours of the morning." '"Yes, something has happened. The Forest Lodjre went on fire last night. It has been burnt to the ground.' , "(Jood heavens. That poor shellshocked object of a man! Is he safe'.'"' "We do not know yet. The embci> are still btirmn™. It would not be safe to £O into the ruin yet." '"You wil! send for the police immediately, and I suppose l'arrish may be necessary. You will have to send it messenger on foot and leave it to them how to pet there. With thi> rain the roads should be passable soon. Have you had your breakfast *"' "I wi's just f;oinjr to it. ,, '"Ah! And I will come with you." They went downstairs. Bridget «uid-

ing him. "We shall have to think of (lint wonderful oculist. Bridget," , lie said, "I belive he is a delusion and a snare. At first 1 was snowed under by letters from my friends and acquaintances asking me to go to their special oculist. Hill you shall take me t<> America, if yon will. My only condition i≤ that you take inc." He laughed a> though it was the line.-t jest. Suddenly they cnnie upon Mr«. \\ are ascending with the breakfast tray. They stood aside at the head of a flight of stairs until she came. She had been looking down. She looked up suddenly and saw them. Her face was flushed, and yet mottled with ugly shades of purple. Sho might have been sickeuiui: for some disease. She stared at them. and a strong odour of brandy floated towards them. Mrs. Ware had been fortifying herself. ' '-You should not be out of your room sir," she said. "I will not take the responsibility if you d«> not obey me. This young lady — all lias been wrong sinct she came. Now she sets the house or fire, and my poor brother is burnt."' She iiad set down the tray on the flooi of the lauding. '•(Jo to your room. Madeleine! Co ti your room."* said Sir Philip, in a steri voice of command. I'fo t>© continued daily.)