THE SINS OF SEPTIMUS CREWEI

Auckland Star, Volume LVIII, Issue 276, 22 November 1927, Page 18

THE SINS OF SEPTIMUS CREWEI

| BY jjj | KENNAWAY JAMES | |j| (Author of " Hi* Missing Mannequin," Etc.)

CHAPTER XXIV. The Mandarin's Son. While days were passing without any untoward incident on the Flamingo, and while Viola was resigned to a long voyage to an unknown destination, very different was the situation on the yacht Norma. Vivian noticed an increasing gloom in the manner of Captain Fratson as the days passed and the end of the voyage approached. He guessed that it was the sense of failure that was weighing heavily on the Captain. Vivian shared the sense of his failure, and the day before they expected to reach Southampton he voiced something of what was in his mind to Fratson.

"It is a million pities we have to return empty-handed," he said.

"You are right," replied Fratson. "Failure is a thing our Chief has not much use for."

"Well, I cannot see how we could have succeeded," returned Vivian, "and in any event you are completely free from responsibility. I conducted the search, and I am perfectly satisfied she was not aboard."

"I am not satisfied the search was thorough enough,' 'replied the Captain, "but if anything happens, the girl hasn't been found in the other two ships that are in port, it will be a bit sticky for us. The Chief pays great attention to funny things like situation, presentiment, feelings, instincts, if you understand what I mean, and he particularly attaches importance to human bloodhound Murgatroyd, who still swears he sensed the presence of the girl in the Flamingo."

X haven t told you before," said Vivian, "it sounded "rather a silly thing to do, but when I was on the ship, and under the spell of Murgatroyd's alleged instinct, I wrote a little note asking Viola to get in touch with us here or with 'S.C.'—she would understand what that meant, and I stuck the note behind the swing mirror of the cabin that so fascinated our bloodhound friend, so if she was on the vessel somewhere hidden away, she might get that."

"Hum—" replied the captain. "Possible, of course, but not probable. In any event, if she did get it, she couldn't communicate unless they touch vport, or she bribes a sailor, and they are not a bribable crew that. You see we euchred their wireless."

"Well, we'll see when we get back," replied Vivian. "A few hours will put us into active work again, and that will end this period of waiting, being able to do nothing, which is so trying." "Put you into active work, perhaps," gloomily replied the skipper. "I shall be lying in the Solent, with the knowledge that I am in the black books."

So with gloomy hearts, and a miserable consciousness of failure, Captain Fratson and John Vivian rushed through the waters at top speed, somewhat ashamed, and not a little afraid to meet Septimus Crewe. In reality they need not hare feared. Crewe intended to hold an inquiry about the search. Particularly he intended to interview Murgatroyd, but he already had made up his mind that he need not criticise them unduly. After all, Fratson was only navigating, and the ultimate responsibility was on the shoulders of a very scrupulous and utterly inexperienced man in these affairs. He had deliberately employed John Vivian, knowing he ran these risks, and was quite prepared to take the consequences of his decision. In any event he war, very much occupied with other and much more pressing affairs now, and as he followed Ah Lee down the corridor of the old house at the wharf, and descended the steps into the cellar, his mind did not even devote a passing thought to the yacht, Vivian, Viola or anything'else, but the matter in hand. Ah Lee led the way along! a subterranean corridor of flagstones whjch lined the walls as well as the floor. Twice did he pass a man on guard, then he came to a door guarded by a Chinaman. Ah I Lee took a key from his pocket, the I guard produced another key, and after [the two keys had been turned the heavy [ oak and iron door swung open, and j Crewe and Ah Lee entered the room. The door was closed behind them, but not locked. The room they had entered was fairly large. The ceiling itself was of stone, and vaulted. Three stone pillars supported the vaulted roof. These pillars were also hung with some sort of Oriental tapestry. Two divans made of heavy silk-covered cushions were set in the room—one against a wall, the other before a patent anthracite burning stove set against one of the pillars. Two small occasional tables, and a bookcase well filled surmounting a cupboard, made up the furniture of the room.

On the couch before the stove a young mftn lay, reading a book. He glanced up as the door opened, and whan he saw Crewe he rose.

"This is an unusual honour?" he asked in fairly good English, but with rather a clipped accent.

"How are you feeling, my boy?" asked Crewe, gazing intently into the emaciated features.

The boy—for he seemed little, more than a boy (as a matter of fact he was twenty-four) looked ill indeed. His face, clear cut and aristocratic, was painfully thin. The high cheek bones, naturally prominent, seemed almost to protrude through his light, drawn, parchment-like skin. His chest was sunken, and as he removed his horn-rimmed spectacles and turned to reply he was suddenly shaken by a fearful fit of coughing, which shook !him from head to foot. Crewe noticed his eyes were unnaturally brilliant. "I am not very well." The boy made ; the statement quite calmly, and dispas- ! sionately. as if he were discussing a [third party. '"Forgive me." Crewe took a step forward, and took the boy's wrist in his strong, cool grip, and felt his pulse. What he found there evidently was unsatisfactory, for he said: "I will see that the doctor comes again to see you soon— this afternoon." "The doctor whom I want is to be free," replied the youth, who now seated himself in obedience to a gesture from Crewe.

Crewe also sat down on one of the small occasional tables facing the boy, and Ah Lee sat on one" of the settees. '■Now, Fu-Chi-Chien, I am here for a very definite purpose, and, if possible, at the end of our interview, I want; to arrange for your freedom." ' Crewe was speaking calmly, his eyeis irresistibly gripping the fierce burning, rather deepset eyes of the young Chinese, who just nodded shortly and waited for Crewe to proceed. "I tried to show you, Fu-Cbi-Ohien, tfcbt in our transaction' I tam

not been actuated by any feelings of malice to you, personally. I am the political enemy of your father, I know how he hates me. I am afraid you also hate me. Now I want you to make a very great effort to just wipe out that hatred for a few minutes. Look reasonably at what I have to tell you. Answer with your head, and not vour heart." Fu-Chi-Chien was faintly smiling. Crewe felt that he was making no impression. Weak as this boy was physically, he would cheerfully go to the stake with solid stoicism rather than betray his cause, or do what he considered dishonourable. So, more hurriedly, and with a hint of sternness in his voice, Crewe continued: "You came over here determined to extinguish me and the great cause I represent. You got possession by foul means of four of my agents. By tortures unknown to me, but obviously terrible, you extracted from their dying lips confessions that it were a shame to hear from men under such conditions. ' You did me considerable harm until I discovered what was happening. Now I want to know the agents you employ who are over and above the lists I have, and I want to know the correspondent whom you have in my organisation. These thing 3 you will answer. I have held my hand so far — do not strain my generosity." Crewe

was positively frightening as he sternly and loudly pronounced the last words. He added more gently as he saw the young man quail before him: "On the other hand, Fu-Chi-Chien, I will immediately release you, and take your bond to be void for ever, returning to China, and leaving me to manage my own affairs, just as soon as you answer my question—on your bond—than which tio bond is more valuable, the spoken word of a Chien."

| Faintly Fu-Chi-Chien smiled, and !rather wearily he answered: "I thought there was something new. You have been answered by me so often, and always the answer is the same. I cannot go beyond the word of my father. For reward or for punishment, in sunlight or in this prison, I am not capable of adding to or taking from the word of my father—whom you once served." The youth was going to say "betrayed" instead of "served," but something in Crewe's face warned him not to.

"Have you ever known me fail in my word, Fu-Chi-Chien!". Quietly the words were spoken by Crewe, but they were pregnant with meaning. Crewe's face was set—he bent forward.

"No," replied the boy, "I have not, but obviously you failed in your oath to our cause years ago." "That you know nothing about," said Crewe sharply. "I told you to keep your hereditary hatred out of this and think, lad, think, don't just stand on the hatred you have had preached into you from infancy." "If you prefer it,** said Fu-Chi- Chien, 'T will say that I, personally, have not known you break your word." "Very well," said Crewe. "It is now 3.30 p.m. At 1 p.m. to-morrow you will tell me all I want to know. You will tell it to me here. I must have that knowledge by 3 o'clock to-morrow afternoon."

"You will get just the same answer." The boy spoke quietly. "You have kept me in this place, where the sun never penetrates for sixteen months. My health is undermined. Nothing that you can possibly do will make me do a dishonourable thing. Does it not occur to you that you once considered my father the most important figure in China? Can you not see what an enormous crime you have committed in imprisoning me—my father's son—for sixteen months, in an underground cellar—where disease lurks in damp walls, and no sun ever shines!" "I still consider your father the most important figure in China," replied Crewe, /'but you speak of my 'crime.' Do you realise that had I not stepped in at that Limehonse mesa, you would have been lying under the, wall of an English prison, an executed common felon—a murderer's grave for a Chien! I saved you from that, but you could have gone away at your will as soon as you had answered my reasonable questions. Is it unreasonable, Fa-Chi-Chien, for a man who knows a knife is directed at him from an unknown direction, and who suddenly gets a chance to find what that direction is with the possible chance of obviating the expected thrust—is it unreasonable, I say, if he t»kes advantage of that to fl* direetiwtf*

"Your logic does not affect my decision," replied the boy; "besides, I have firmly believed that your creatures started that Limehouss row at your instigation."

"Your hatred blinds your reason at every point, Fu-Chi-Chien," said Crewe. "Anyway, you hare until, 1 o'clock tomorrow, and then, my lad, there will be movement, believe me."

Crewe rose; then, as the lad shivered and he looked down on him, a sudden pity took possession of Crewe. He remembered the lad had not seen the sun for sixteen months, and it was a sunny day. "Let ns finish disagreeable subjects until 1 p.m. to-morrow," he said. "Come up and have a glimpse at the sun you miss so much." Ah- Lee looked surprised, but followed the pair silently. Past the outer sentries they went, and presently emerged from the doors of the offices. The sun was shining brightly, and for ten minutes or so Fu-Chi-Chien drank in the beautiful fresh air. It was Hi genuine gratitude that he bade Crewe farewell as he followed Ah Lee and a sentry back to his room. Crewe glanced over the river md round the yard before lie left, but his sharp eye did not detect a boat near mid-stream containing two men who bad been watching the wharf attentively during the last few minutes through a telescope, which one after the other used. As Crewe departed. • this boat pulled away with rapid strokes to the opposite shore.

(To be continued daily.)