THE SINS OF SEPTIMUS CREWE

Auckland Star, Volume LVIII, Issue 277, 23 November 1927, Page 22

THE SINS OF SEPTIMUS CREWE

BY KENNAWAY JAMES (Author of "The Mitring Mannequin," Etc.)

H| CHAPTER XXV. Septimus Is Sentimental. 11l Quite unconscious of the fact that l|: two very interested watchers had been ||| observing the wharf for the last few ill minutes, Septimus Crewe left and HI returned by devious routes to' his house. [11l There he was greeted by Sing, who !:::" i handed him a number of letters that had

been left by his secretary for personal delivery and was informed that John Vivian had called and was now awaiting him.

I Crewe passed straight to his library : and within two or three minutes had j Vivian shown in. j Rather self-consciously Vivian entered. I Crewe rose and extended his hand to

Vivian and said: "So success does not yet await your efforts, my friend?"

"No," replied Vivian. "I cannot express, to you how disappointed I am. I suppose you have no news, have you?" "Of Viola Kent, you mean?" Crewe eaid. "Well, I am accustomed to drawing my facts from process of deduction and I have come to the conclusion that the girl is oil the Flamingo- Oh, no, I don't blame you," he hastened to say as he saw a troubled look cross Vivian's face. "You were dealing with a cunning old rascal in Captain Mercer and the girl would be very securely hidden. But no sign has been seen or heard of her in this country. I stand by the report of the police, which I have seen, and the report of my own agents. The two vessels I told you of, which are- lying in. British ports—at Car-

: diff and Liverpool, to be precise— : I have had searched and there is no 1. trace of her at all. Now bv a curious

chanec, one of the sailors on the Ming happens to be a correspondent of mine and he assures me the vessel never called anywhere after leaving port and no woman is aboard. There remains the Flamingo and the curious combination of; the sailor Murgatroyd's instinctive sense of a woman there." Crewe looked into the fire for a moment, then.added: "Yes, I feel convinced myself that she is there." Poor Vivian felt intensely uncomfortable. He said: "I suppose I might have made—" But Crewe interrupted him. "I have already said you are not to blame. When the truth is known , we shall probably see that the girl was cunningly hidden away in some specially designed hiding place that it would take a marine architcct to discover by a process of careful measurements of all sections of

ill ihe o ship. No, I want to talk about the !:: future', now, not the past. We'll get the jjj" girl back, don't worry. I-, personally, will Hi take charge next time. Now I have i|| work for you to do. I want you to go to |jj Scotland Yard and tell them there you jjj, believe a. certain Chinese, at present in ||: London, is connected with the disappear[H ance of John Barclay, the attack on [H Helman and all the re3t of it. He is a |H bjgh official of a certain section in China Si very hostile to this country and indeed

ill any other country. He is staying with a i:j pretty large suite at the Hotel Lombard :|| and his name is the Mandarin Wah-Sen-Li. Now this is on your native heath, ill so to. speak and you surely can succeed ij: : here. You must not divulge that you get i|| your information from me. You must It: • make them believe that he is the real ;]f culprit behind all these things. Lay the lav.' dqwn strongly. Infer that worse ill 1 outrage-; are. pending—do something to |g." make quite sure that he and his Ijl associate will be continually und°i |H supervision. Can you do that?" j::, "Yes," replied Vivian.. "I can." He

in! would have liked to ask some questions |H of Crewe and as hfc hesitated the latter [n I eaw by his face wa§ consumed by 111 i curiosity. ' . Hll "I am not misleading titber you or |||! Scotland Yard," Crewe said. "As a 111 i matter of fact this man Wah-Sen-Li is III! a much more serious danger to the peace 111 j and order of this realm than anyone ijl j else in the country to-day and indirectly lII' he was responsible' for all the trouble? Hj 1 that have befallen us from and including |i| | the John Barclay case." |jl 1 "Very well, Mr. Crewe," returned HI 1 Vivian. "I will go round to the Yard III! now."

II "'One more thing," said Crewe. "It is jl just possible you will have to set off on j! a long voyage to-morrow night—can you II prepare for that?"

fjji "Certainly," said Vivian. jjj> "f am very glad," Crewe said. Ijj "You get off now and let me js- know- how you <fet on at the Yard, Is: If I* am not at home when you «| return-leave a written report with Sing. |jj; I am advising Fratson to prepare for ilj, ..a long voyage. Remember you cannot Jlli make your representations at Scotland pi Yard too strong. Au revoir." |j "Au. revoir, sir," replied Viviau, and si departed. |HI As soon as Vivian had gone, Crewe HI J dispatched a message to Captain Fratjjj l son, then returned to the correspondence [:[ that Sing had delivered to him. There •II was .one letter that he read several ||: times, then crossed to the telephone and

H called a number. After some little j| delay he was put through to the person :! he wanted.

j|: "Is that you, Mrs. Barclay?" asked |H Crewe._ j|| "Yes," replied a voice he instantly |U recognised. "That is you, Sep., of ::: course?"

"Of course, Norah," said Crewe. "Now

::: about this letter of yours. What IH exactly happened when the Mandarin |H Wah-Sen-Li called?"

HI. "Oh, I simply can't tell you over the telephone. Can't you come.to see me? jjj Will you dine with me—just tete-a-tete

in —at, say, 8 o'clock? Or shall I come to Hi, you?" rS ""You liiust certainly not come round HI here," Crewe said. "I will be round HI about 8 o'clock. But, tell me, is there jjj: anything specially worrying? You say Ik you are distracted."

I '"Oh, worrying isn't the name of it--r it's perfectly awful—that man suspects —oh! I can't tell you now. I'll tell you when you come round." ' | "Hum," Crewe frowned, then said: ••.••"Very well; Norah, don't worry too i -much. I don't-suppose there's anything. •. but what I can put right. I will see jt- you at 8." K ; "Oh! -I know you can do it, dear. jS giid I'm so glad you rang. I'll order Hi a specially interesting little dinner for jil us to counterpoise th» Wah-Sen-Li per||j son. Good-bye." j:| The woman laughed sbftly. Crewe i||' replftced the receiver, and as he sat dowii' in his armchair-his face was a complex study,* that, might wejl hare baffled'auy psychologist. Sometimes, as

he gazed into the fire, a look of great tenderness overspread his face, sometimes an almost cynical smile played about the corners of his firm; rather thin lips. Sometimes a fierce light shone in the penetrating eyes, and a couple of muscles in his left cheek twitched, his jaw set forward, and the whole countenance of the man was almost terrifying in its colossal strength. Crossing the room, he moved a curtain and unlocked a safe. From a drawer at the bottom cif the safe he took out a faded photograph in a red leather frame. It was the photograph of a girl in old-fashioned , clothes., A photograph that must have been taken *20 years ago. On this photograph CreWe gazed long, his face now perfectly impassive again. He put it back, locked the safe, and rang the bell. "I shall be in by midnight," lie said to Sing, who bowed and silently withdrew.

Crewe then returned to his dressing room, where an evening suit was laid out for him, changed, went downstairs, and putting on a heavy overcoat' *nd soft black hat, departed in car. He told his chauffeur to drive to the Piccadilly Hotel. Arriving" there he took'a seat in the lounge that ; commanded both entrances, and, ordering a-cocktail, his evening paper. After'about twenty minutes he departed. It was now 7.30; *nd as he had dismissed .his car he walked a few yards along Piccadilly, ignoring the offer of-the Commissionaire to get him a taxi. He hailed a'taxi himself and journeyed to Park. Lane, where he was immediately admitted. As the butler was removing his' hat and coat a tall, rather, faded, but still attractive woman of about forty-; five came from a room opening, off the hall and with outstretched hands greeted him. It was clear that this woman was the girl of the photograph that Crewe had gazed upon so intently an hour, or so before.

"AL, there you are," said .the woman in soft, deep tones. Crewe took the out-' stretched hands "and lightly kissed her forehead. He did not speak until they had entered the dining room. Then he said:

"Have you arranged ' for' us to serve ourselves, Northt*. •

"Of course, • my dear," ajie replied-— "everything is on the hot plate no wo jl specially chose those things that don't! spoil." ." . : ,«* £j. "Now," Crewe as ,he settled with hors d'ouvres, "tell me ..all abqut Wah-Sen-Li." , , ; . ■ : ?'■}

"Well, he ealled here, -Sent in, soaie Chinese visiting cards .which looked lilse the red covers of tea-packets"—CreW« smiled—"and of course I said I ooaWn't see him. He persisted, and then |he astonished me by sending Furley in w|tli the astounding message from my husband." ,

Crewe glanced lip sharply; Mrs..Bar-; clay °went on: "I had to admit hint then, of course, and in he came. Well, he really didn't differ very mueh from the police. He asked the same questions —When did.l see him last? ' What did I know of you? and.all that weary,; weary business. Then he. flamed up at; the end and practically accused me of helping you" to keep him'out of the way in order to prevent him, giving some; evidence about, some -Mandarin's son or something. I couldn't understand much, but I" gathered he was your- deadly enemy. Can. you tell mie - anything at all, dear, or would you,rather not?"

Crewe looked over at the- wgbs»ik. and not for the first time marvelled at her ability to trust implicitly, put question, and her _ ing freedom from- the usually' strong female defect of curiosity! Clever map that he he was not clever enough to see that .this. was merely 1 a poseHspeeially to make ,a strong appeal td him. Nor'sth Barclay -was a '-idevtr woman, and wanted two, things in life. One was to know the full mystery of aft these strange events. Thk other wa# Septimus Crewe.' '* z \

! Before Crewe . replied, ..the i telephone bell rang. With a.gesture of &nnovance>i Norah Barclay reached for it. She 'began to remonstrate about being disturbed;' when suddenly she stopped. f f "It is for yon," she said; V

Crewe took the - instrument, murmured Ms. name, repeatedto assure .someone at the other end of his identity, then in a second was shouting: "What? n H» eyes blazed and his. wholefaCTwaseou; vulsed with strong emotion as heVre-

placed the receiver. Recovering his selfpossession, he said quickly: "I must go at-once, my dear."

"Some trouble?" anxiously asked the woman..

"Yes—Good-bye." He rushed rroni the room. The words that had so startled him were these—from Sing. "There is an attack on the wharf—it is going on now."

Not waiting for his car, Crewe hailed a taxi as soon as he left Mrs. Barclay's house, and ordered the driver to go to Liverpool Street as quickly as possible. Chafing at the comparatively slow progress, and burning with anxiety for further news of the wharf, he tapped on the glass and told the man to pull up at' the first telephone call office. Thv cab stopped at a post office and CreWe stepped out and eptered the telephone box. Fruitlessly, for three precious minutes, he tried to get through, but the exchange always gave him the same answer—"No reply." At last. he abandoned the attempt to telephone, and re-entered the cab, which than proceeded on its way again. All sorts of possible causes occurred to Crewe for the fact that his telephone call failed: 1 Perhaps the telephone was cut off—would that indicate that the attacking party, were in possession of the wharf, or that it was a precautionary measure on their part? Surely the number of men he had in .reserve down there were • more than adequate for every eventuality. An idea occurred to him, by which he could save a. few minutes. It was night; he would turn his overcoat collar up, borrow the chauffeur's cap for a consideration,, and go straight to the wharf instead of stopping to change ifi Liverpool Street as he usually did. He instructed the driver to proceed to the East India docks, and to put on speed if possible.

Passing' Aldgate it was possible to get', ahead more quickly and the taxi peltfd down the Barking Road "all oat." Presently they approached ' the docks, and it was necessary for Crewe to give direction? to the driver of the« exact location of the wharf, and at they arrived ,at a point which Crews decided was near enough. Thrusting two pounds into the driver's hand, Crewe, said, briefly::—

"Wait here—and lend me. your cap, use my hat if you are cold." At the same time he handed the driver his black crush hat.

"Certainly, -ir," and without question the driver handed his cap over. As he moved off in the direction of the wharf entrance, Crewe drew from liis pocket a large, and recent model Browning automatic pistol, and removed the safety catch, prepared to fire instantly. As he approached the gates, everything seemed all right. Still, he would be doubly cautious.

Standing well off the gates he gave th« usual knocks with his stick extended to the frill limit in his left hand. The wicket was opened instantly and Crewe was challenged. He replied with the countersign, and the man stood clear to allow him to pass. Crewe entered, and the door swung to behind him. He set off' in the direction of the offices, still on the alert, and avoided a large stack of wooden boxes standing midway between the "wharf gates and thw office entrance. Passing the boxes, lie felt, rather than saw, that several men were cowering in the shadow of the pile. As he drew level, there was a quick movement, and'three men sprang at him. Within a second Crewe had swung on his feet, fired once at the first man as he raised his revolver, and in a second fired on the other two: The first two dropped without a sound, the third gave a quick shout, and attempted to run away—he staggered for a few yards, then collapsed. Crewe was quite unperturbed, he had no consciousness of fear.

"I hope the remaining six rounds are going to be enough," he muttered to himself as he commenced his retreat towards the gates.

Noiselessly he went, and quickly, and had almost reached his goal when something happened. He never knew quite what—he felt a crash on hia head, and saw all sorts .of lights for a . second, and then remembered no more.

(To be concluded)