"ON THE WINDS OF THE SOUTH"

Auckland Star, Volume LXI, Issue 72, 26 March 1930, Page 22

"ON THE WINDS OF THE SOUTH"

' By jjj COUNTESS i VON HAARSCH

CHAPTER XII. . Assunta was up when tliey came, and met them in the dimly-lit hall. At the siglit of the girl she leered, and Michael felt a ware-of repulsion rising to his throat, but he . had enough nerve to control himself, and said: "Signora Assunta—as you see—l have brought the young lady home. I am quite satisfied with what she told me." : "Ah;" mocked Assunta. "The Milor Inglese will doubtless be pleased to know that his own daughter is a criminal! This would make good news." Gleefully she rubbed her thin hands together, and then abruptly turned to lolanda, roughly seized her by the bare shoulder and pushed her towards the door. "Go into your room and don't darn to come out again. until I call you," she hissed. Her fingers left a livid red mark on the girl's shoulder. Michael turned his head away. • • - "She may be criminal," he muttered, "but why be so rough with her?" Assunta laughed.

"She's . a-pretty wench, isn't she?"' she said irrelevantly. "Now, Signor, you see—old Assunta's kept her word. lias nothing to do with me. What are Vou going to do?" "I will write to Lonl Fayne ftnd tell him what I have found out," answered Michael/not quite steadily; he found it difficult to keep himself under control. "I feel certain he will take care to have the whole matter hushed up. "Did I not tell you," sneered Assunta, "that the Milor could not afford cx"You were, right," sighed Michael. "With your permission, I will write to Lord Fayiie at once to catch the very first morning mail." . „ "You will have to write in Italian, grpwled the Avoman. "I don't understand anything else." ' _ She produced a grubby sheet of paper and a thin grey epvelope. Michael sat down arid wrote the following very slowly, because he was not fit all sure of his spelling nd grammar: "Dear Lord Fayne,—l am writing to tell you that I have now interviewed Signora Assunta ,'Mattei in connection with the affair you wished to investigate. I am now in possession of full facts relating to it. I find it hard in-, deed to have to tell you that the chief person concerned is not the above-, mentioned lady, but D.I.R. ■* (he so initialled her name, acting on Assunta s furtive suggestion). _ I_ am given to understand that, taking into consideration this young lady's relationship to your family, you might prefer to make no further inquiries into the case. - I have now obtained a written statement from the lady in question. (This lie Michael wrote with set teeth), which doubtless you would be glad to possess.' I am coming back in a few _ days," and, just as he was going to sign his name, Assunta stopped him. ';"Wliat about, my allowance?" , she asked sourly. "He. will, no doubt, increase it,", answered Michael. ■V«I want you to put it, in black and white," insisted the woman. "'Just say that the young ,'lady's maintenance must liow h? increased by four thousand lire, a month, that on receipt. of -which no further trouble will be made. And. you might tell him I will' then return the documents," she added. • '"What documents?" he a3ked, but she replied crptically: "Oli, the Milor will, know." Michael noted the point and resolved to interpolate it in Jiis later genuine letter to Lord Fayne. "Well, I suppose that is all," he said; signing his name with an unnecessary flourish. "I am sorry I have misjudged yon, signorina." , "Yes—and the milor will never pay me enough for keeping this shame off his roof," she retorted impudently, '"lolanda—hi—coine quick when I call you, you lazy girl." ' The door opened and lolanda appeared. Assunta pointed one bony finger at her. "There she stands—the impudent, shameless creature! s '-'she cried. "Liar and blackmailer and worse. Yes, far worse," she repeated ;with an evil sneer. •'lf the people' of Rome—these silly nobles -r-only knew who they received in their homo's! Why—their eyes would darken for slmmc! 'And I, who have shielded her for nil (Itese years, I get calumny thrown at me, because my manners are not qui l !- those of a lady! Ay, Assunta is n rougU 'oUI woman, but she knows licr job." I

• And, whilst talking she stretched out one thin arm, and, pulling the girl towards her, began stroking her shoulder. Somehow, this obviously insincere caress aroused revolt in Michael. Assunita's gentleness was infinitely worse than her roughness. She looked the very per-' sbnification of a spider. There seemed nothing else to be done. The vile letter put into an envelope and sealed, Michael-rose to go. He did not trust himself to look at the girl. He Was merely conscious of her presence there, of her sublime, proud indifference to all the insults and gibes uttered by the old dame. She had never move(l a muscle whilst Assunta had read to her the contents of, that staggering letter, and, over the duenna's shoulder, Michael succeeded in sending'her a re-assuring message with his eyes. "Your father will never see that letter," signified those honest eyes, and lolanda knew instinctively that there lay therein a new hope for her. "He is so clean and straight, and he's my father's friend," sang a joyful refrain in her heart, and, as Michael was leaving, she held out her little cold hand. . '"That is if you want to shake hands with a criminal," she murmured, with an excellent imitation of, a.sad smile. Assunta. was watching them eagerly,' avidly. And Michael thought it wiser to ignore the small hand, even though all within him yearned. to crush it to his lips and cover it with , kisses. But' he turned to Assunta instead. "I shall hear from Lord Fayne very soon," he said formally, "and you will have his decision without delay." "Oh—l have no doubts as to what his decision will be," retorted Assunta with a contemptuous sniff, "lie cannot afford this to come out. Good-bye, signor. Now you—mia bella," roughly she pushed lolanda. You need a good night's rest for to-morrow. The noble Marchesa Spinelli must not guess about your troubles, ha-ha-ha," and, with her hideous, laugh, she marshalled the girl out of the room. Michael left very abruptly. He .wanted to get back to the Excelsior in time to snatch a few. minutes talk with Bobby. The Spinelli party might provide another opportunity of meeting Donna lolanda. It was obviously im-

possible to make any definite appointment with the old duenna in the room. Michael: reflected that they should have come to some arrangement on their way back to Via Marche—but then what was the use of crying over spilt milk? Besides —he shrugged his shoulders —it was only a matter of a few days now. Lord Fayne would, doubtless, waste no time in retrieving his long-lost daughter from this den of thieves, and Assunta would make her long-delayed acquaintance with a cell in Regina Coeli. "What, a fool of a woman!" he reflected, going down the silent cypresslined Via Ludovici. "Hasn't she got more brains than that? Can't she see that she is running her head into a noose by writing to Lord Fayne about Iolanda?" He looked up at this moment and it seemed, to him that the darkly-etched cypresses were rustling some indefinite foreboding of trouble with their branches. It was as though they were giving him an answer to the question: . "She is no fool," they whispered. "She knows what »slie is doing. Beware! Beware!' There is trouble ahead." '"Fin ' letting my imagination run amok," Michael thought. "What's this wilii idea' of coming trouble? It's all absolutely plain sailing. Lord Fayne will get' my letter in a few days and I'll set to work., lolanda " A queer thing—after a day's acquaint-ance-r-to be .thinking of. this girl. The image of.her, stamped, as it were, in Michael's memory, rose before him, tender and pleading and proud. "What pluck hers is in the face of the life she's forced'to-lead—at the mercy of a fiendish criminal. . . ."He remembered lolanda's reticence, and it conjured up details which made him' shudder. . And, suddenly, inexplicably, he knew that he would now: work not only in Lord Fayne's jnterests. The hitherto meaningless and vague purpose of his coming to Rome , gathered point and strength. Michael felt like an athlete on the arena in the early hours of the morning. So he reached the Excelsior and searched for Bobby, and could not find him anywhere. _ "To-morrow morning would do," he decided, and went to his own rooms to write the all-important letter. He little knew what terrible answer it would provoke. •. . . ' (To be continued daily.)