STRANGE ABSENCE

Auckland Star, Volume LXIV, Issue 259, 2 November 1933, Page 23

STRANGE ABSENCE

______ Author of By _____ "The Dividing Years," and ■. - ¥ V . T e i "Guarded Watch." ALLYN SLOAN,

CHAPTER XV. There was to be a gala dinner and dunce at the Hotel Riviera that night, for which Helen had accepted for herself and Jean to dine with her friends the Judsons. The girl.had protested that slio did not wish to go, but Mrs. Gorst had pointed out that it -would be well for her to appear. "You don't -want to look as if you were hiding," she had said, so to please Helen, Jean had agreed to go. But just as elie Was going indoors to dress that evening, Doreen Winton, whom she had not seen since leaving her villa, appeared, strolling across the lawn. "I'm taking a short cut. Helen won't mind," she vouchsafed coolly. But she stood still and stared with fixed insolence at the girl. She saw that she was thinner and rather pale, with an ugly red scar showing on the edge of her hair, but that otherwise she was young, very attractive and maddeningly like that brother of hers. "I suppose you're all right, aren't you?" she snapped. "Yes, nearly," answered Jean quietly. "Then it's no use to keep on pretending that you don't remember anything." "What d'you mean?" "I mean that you know a great deal more than you will let on. You must!" Doreen stamped her foot impatiently, for Jean's quiet nearly drove her frantic and she had considerable difficulty in controlling her tongue. "Do you mean about my brother's disappearance?" "Amongst other things." Jean's lips tightened, but she said: "I suppose you mean your pearls?" Doreen snorted: "Oh, you see the connection 1"

"Are you by any chance accusing me of stealing them ?" The girl's voice was tense, but as steady as her eyes, which looked squarely into Doreen's. For an instant Doreen hesitated, then seeming to see the pit into which she was being enticed, withdrew and snapped: "I did not suppose any such thing. Please don't try to put words into my mouth which I did not say." There was a brief pause before she resumed: "But —it's all bo absurd. How can a man disappear like that? You must know something?" "How could I know anything? I was unconscious."' "Oh, that's what you eay," said Mrs. Winton, impatiently tapping the ground with her foot and glaring at the other resentfully. Jeaii looked at her and jerked rather angrily: "Mrs. Winton, you seem to forget that Euan is my brother. D'you think I'd hide anything which might help to find him? Don't you suppose I want him back?" "God knows!" snapped the other. Suddenly Jean took a step towards her and in an insistent voice, asked: "You saw Euan that last morning—that last night. Didn't he say anything — anything -which would give us a clue?" Doreen flung, up : her head: "What I know I have told' the police." Furious, Jean blurted out: "Well, please don't spread yoxjr accusations all over France. There is such a thing as a law of libel." "Libel!" Doreen laughed harshly. "I like that! You.could no more attack me in a court of law than " She broke off suddenly, for Helen had emerged from the sitting room accompanied by M. Jtivaux. "Ah!" cried the Frenchman, his little eyes hurrying from one angry face to the other. "A la bonne heure! I find my two birds together. I kill them with one stone. That-is good English, n'est-ce pas ?"

Helen looked at the two and wondered what Doreen Winton was doing there, after having avoided them all this time. Judging by Jean's flushed face, she had come on no very friendly errand. Jean stared at Rivaux and wondered, as he drew a email shining object from his pocket and tendered it. to her: "Do you recognise this, mademoiselle?" With trembling hands Jean turned the silver petrol lighter over and found on the bottom the initials, "E.G. from J.G." For a moment she felt quite overcome at peeing this small thing which had belonged to her brother, and scarcely dared ask how or where it had been found. "Well, mademoiselle ?" "Yes. It belonged to my brother. I gave "it to him." "Ah!" Rivaux grinned delightedly. "We advance!" Carelessly lighting another cigarette, Doreen Winton listened to all that was said. When -Jean identified the article, AT. Rivaux flung her a glance of triumph. "Next it will be your pearls, madame." "It's about time," she said with a shrug. "But where did you find it!" asked Jean breathlessly. "Ah, that is the strange thing," said the Frenchman mysteriously. "That little lighter was found on the hillside between the road and-the sea, right over there—" He nodded in the direction of St. Raphael. "In a lonely place between La Soix and' Hveres." "But—" Jean broke off, "I don't understand." Suddenly Doreen Winton burst out laughing. "Don't you see? He was making for Toulon." "Why Toulon?" asked Jean, missing the point. The other's eyes narrowed as'she said: "Toulon is a port. Ships sail from there." "Coine, Doreen, that's' hardly necessary," said Helen, sharply. "You haven't lost twenty thousand pounds, or you'd' be suspicious yourself!" With which, gathering up her cigarette case and bag, Doreen turned and strolled off by the way she had come. M. Rivaux shrugged, looking after the retreating woman: "One is' sorry for that poor, lady, n'est-ce pas? It is terrible to lose so much. Ay-ya-ee." He sighed noisily. Jean sat down. It seemed to her that she was living in a maze and was becoming more bewildered every day. What did this new discovery imply? That Euan really was alive?. A great joy stirred in her heart, but almost immediately was replaced by renewed fear. Those pearls. Getting up, she went over to the police officer. "Monsieur, what does this mean? Is it a good sign?" The Frenchman stared into the pleading eyes, and in spite of himself they stirred' him. He said: "Mademoiselle, who knows? But possibly, possibly. Me, I think we shall find him. So au revoir, mademoiselle." As Jean stood watching him walk off into the house she felt dead, stupid, staring at the little lighter which she

still held in lier hand. She had given i it to Euan on his birthday two years ago. It had been tacitly agreed that at dinner that night no mention should be made of the tragedy which overshadowed Jean Graham. They were therefore a merry party, although Grant felt rather disgusted that after one dance Jean refused to go on. Even Helen's insistance that it "was natural that the girl did not feel much like dancing failed to reassure him. Whilst Jerry danced with their hostess, Jean sat out with their host and looked on. She was completely taken unawares, however, when suddenly Max de Laurier appeared before her and asked for a dance. "Mademoiselle, there is news," he whispered. "Of Euan? O!" She rose almost automatically. "What. Tell mel" "Not here; we shall be overheard. Outside," lie replied', moving away. Everything forgotten but the desire to hear this news, Jean followed the Baron on to the terrace and down into the garden. "This is far enough, surely," she objected, stopping by a seat. "Look, there is a bench with a view." Ho pointed beyond it, where the lights of Monte Carlo bordered the moonswept sea. "You are cold?" Helping her draw up her shawl, his hands lingered upon her shoulders. "Jeanne, clierie, you are so lovely to-night. Look at your lovely arms; they are like marble kissed by the sun." Lifting her arm, he pressed his lips against it. Shrinking away, Jean tried to free herself, but opposition only intensified the Frenchman's ardour. Flinging caution and restraint to the winds, he drew her into his arms.

"How dare you! Let : go of me! 0, how dare you!" Jean gasped, struggling unavailingly to break away. "Love dares all, ma clierie." "Don't speak of love to me. You have no right—none!" "Jfo right?" His eyebrows raised in genuine surprise. "But you forget, surely?" Though softly spoken, the words bore in them the hint of a threat. "You forget that I hold the honour of your brother in my hands! Perhaps your honour, too! Who knows!" Jean was appalled, frozen. She knew not "what to eay. "Am Ito lie for you? To put myself on the wrong side of the law for you, and. have no reward? Come, it is not reasonable." Jean stared, her face aa white as marble in the moonlight. So that was it! This was the kind of man into whose power Euan had fallen. What was she to do? ■ But his. voice went on, suave, silky almost, yet with always that subtle hint. "Jean, it is true that I love you. You are so sweet, so—different. Look at me, mignoime." Ho leaned towards her, seeking her lips. "0, stop, please. My wrist—l'm sorry, but I don't care for you in that way, Baron." Abruptly the Frenchman released her, saying, with a cold finality: "Very well. Hivaux of the Surete will be glad to hear what I have to tell him." "You beast!" gasped Jean, almost incredulously. She was horror-bound, unable to move, and stood there a pale, slight figure, her face in the moonlight frozen into lines of fearful distress. "W-what do you want?" she asked at length. "Money ?"

De Laurier laughed. 'Money you owe me, my dear, two thousand pounds. For my silence. I want something better." "But I—I—" Her voice failed and she swallowed. Suddenly then de Laurier smiled. "Let us not quarrel, mademoiselle. I have perhaps been over-hasty. But we will be friends —won't we ? Just friends. You agree ? Is it a bargain ?" A bargain—her friendship for his silence—otherwise Euan's—perhaps her own—honour. Scarcely audibly, she whispered: "Very well." Turning, she made for the house. "Parfait!" De Laurier followed Iher. "To-morrow you will lunch with me and we will seal the bargain." Returning alone to the ballroom, Jean went straight to Mrs. Gorst and said that she would like to go home. Her pallor and the purple smudges beneath her eyes told their own story and Helen rose at once. Grant, however, although he saw that something had upset Jean, steeled his heart against her look of misery. If she preferred the Frenchman —well, let her, he thought jealously, bowing frigidly and giving her a formal good-night. (To be continued daily.)