OUR NOVELETTE.

Bush Advocate, Volume XVII, Issue 4, 6 January 1905, Page 2

OUR NOVELETTE.

A HANSOM AND TWO FARES. Phil Mauson had dined, and perhaps ho liud taken a little more wine than usual. Indeed, he admits as much; but he was very far from being intoxicated— on that point he is emphatic— when one warm evening last summer he left the Hotel Cecil aud walked out into the strand. After a moment's hesitation he decided t > go to the Pavilion for an hour. A cab was drawn up at the kerb outside a wellknown gunsmith's, and without asking whether it was engaged, Phil stepped into it Somewhat sleepily he looked up to the roof of the cab in order to give his instructions to the driver ; but the latter, apparently under the impression that his own fare, whom he had set down at tho gunsmith's shop a few minutes earlier, had now returned, whipped up Ins horse and drove rapidly westward. "Phil chuckled, and then, leaning back in the cab, went peacefully to sleepT He was awakened with a start as the vehicle drew up sharply before a large house in a great deserted square. He hesitated for a moment, somewhat confused, and then slowly alighted from the cab. "Where are we, cabby? Didn't I tell you i But beforo he could say any more a fcotman, who apparently had been watching for his arrival, ran down the- steps of th« house and touched him on the arm. "Go straight in, please, sir," he said, m a tone of suppressed excitement. "I will pay the cabman.* "Is this the Pavilion? That's what I want to know," began Phil; tut already th- servant had dismissed the cab, and wai almost hustling the bewildered young man into the house. Not until Phil found himself m the dim-ly-lighted hall, and heard the door shut belnnd him, did he properly awake from hi 3 drowsiness and realise that he was in a rather ridiculous situation. "My good man," he said, mildly, "there has been a mistake. I am not the person you take me for. I have no business whatever in this house. Tlie cabman made a mistake. Kindly open the door, and He paused, for two other servants had made thoir appearance, and the three men surrounded him. Their attitude was very deferential, and yet it seemed to contain in it something of menace. "Excuse me, sir," said the oldest of tho men, apparently the butler, a sturdilybuilt fellow of about 45, "but my lady is waiting for you in the morning-room. I beg you will not delay, and that whatever explanations you desire to make you will make to her alone." As ho spoke he glanced significantly at the other servants. a "Oh, very well," said Phil impatiently; "ii- is all very ridiculous, but take me to tho lady. I will soon explain." One of the footman stepped forward and flung open a door. Phil passed through into a large,, gloomy apartment. As he did so the servant announced . him : "Mr Hector Cameron." "How absurd!" muttered Phil, and at once strode boldly into the room. He pulled himself up with a start of surprise. In the centre of the room was a table, on which stood a shaded lamp, which gave the only light- in the-apart-ment. At the table sat, not a woman, biit three men— three men, all of middle age, who turned towards him grave, stern faces. "Come forward, Hector Cameron," said on> of the men, in low, authoritative tones. "There has been a rather foolish mistake, for which I am in part responsible," began Phil, advancing to thetable." ''Be silent!" interrupted the other, abruptly. "This matter is urgent, and we cannot waste time in foolish talk. If you have any weapon about you, place it on the table." Phil then noticed that the two men who had not yet spoken each held a revolver levelled directly at him. He cleared his throat, made a vain effort to collect his thoughts, and then blurted out : "Don't be ridiculous. I never carried anything more dangerous than a penknife iv my life." "Search him !" came the curt command, and one of the men immediately rose, and without relinquishing his revolver, made a rapid but thorough search of our bewildered hero. "He has no weapon," announced the man, returning to his seat. The leader of the group looked at Phil thoughtfully for a moment in silence. "You are not without courage." he said, at length. "To come here at all to-night proved that; but to come unarmed was almost foolhardiness, was it not?" "I really mu J st ask you to let me know what you are driving at? I do not know who you are. I have entered this house hr mistake. My name is not Hector

-■nrrrwiwnn " Jd;"""i»~. >»■ »hibi.»h T » Cameron." "That will do," said the othor, sternly, an angry flush spreading over his face. "You are a traitor, and you are trapped, and tho sooner you admit tho first and realise the second the better. For two years we four have carried on a very profitable undertaking without ever having mot. There was no reason that we should meet, so long as we all acted squarely to on- another. Your treachery has made this meeting imperative. To do business outside the ring was bad enough, but you went further than that. A week ago we learnt of your black treachery. After we had spent six months, and hundreds of Pounds, in arranging the plant, you step m and clear with the stuff. Well, Mr Cameron, wo have invited you here tonight to let you know that the game won't work." "Gentlemen," said Phil, with much gravity, "I seem to be on the point of hearing things certainly not meant for my ears. Before you go further and betray yourselves irretrievably, permit me to say solemnly and emphatically that my name is not Cameron." ' The man who had been spokesman all along made a gesture of impatience. "You will confess, I suppose, that you came here to see my ward Beatrice?" he said, irritably. "I never heard of the lady," protested Phil, wearily. The other struck a bell sharply, and i servant immediately appeared. "Tell Miss Beatrice to come here' at stances would allow, and at the time of gard and dying eyes, and sees the bare comfortless hotel room where the Scotchman is ending the life that' might have "You will please say nothing; My ward of course, knows nothing of our business', and she xs to know nothing. You understand ?" Phil nodded, greatly relieved to think that the ridiculous business was so soon t:> be concluded. All four men were on their feet waiting expectantly when the door opened to admit a graceful and beautiful girl of about twenty or under. Her guardian went forward to meet her. "Here is Mr Hector Cameron," he said quietly taking her by" the hand, and'leadl ing her towards Phil. She looked up eagerly, an expression almost of terror upon her face, and then, perceiving the young man, she started, swayed, and seemed about to fall. "What is the matter?" eaid her guardian coldly. "Are you not pleased to see him?" With an obvious effort the girl controlled her emotions for a moment. Then, glancing wildly about the room, ! sh-> uttered a low cry of anguish, and! : staggering forward, flung into j Phil's arms and sobbed passionately upon I his breast. ' "Upon my word!" gasped the young j man, striving gently to*ertricate himself, j But the girl clung closer to him, and even as he strove to collect his scattered senses he heard her whispering something in a low voice: "Pretend you know me. Please, please, don't refuse! A man's life depends upon Now, Phil ac all times was suceptible t-> beauty, but beauty in distress, beauty sobbing on his waistcoat, and beautyarms clinging tightly about his neck, rendered him absolutely defenceless. ! "Only for a few hours, please," mur- J mured the girl, between her sobs. j "Oh, very well," said Phil, weakly; "but I don't cry like that, there's a good girl, you'll hurt yourself." "Oh, Hector, darling, why did you come here?" cried this accomplished actress, in tones of passionate grief. "They mean you no good. They are bad, wicked men." "That will do, Beatrice," said her guardian, in a low, stern voice; "you may return to your room." The girl, who seemed genuinely afraid of tho man, stepped back quickly, and, still sobbing, crept quietly out of the room. Her guardian stood watching her until she disappeared, then, turning to Phil, he said, slowly: "Well, have you anything to say?" Phil laughed. "I think not," he replied. "You seem to know so much, perhaps the less I say the better." "Now we understand one another, and may as well proceed to business. You will first write out- a cheque for <£6700." "Indeed !" said Phil.

"That will teiivo yuu about ,£,",() fov yourself. You see, we are well inforineclV' "Extremely well informed," assented Phil, hardly knowing what he was saying, but anxious to gain time. "You will then remain here until we have the money and are able to leave tho country. Then, in about a week's time, you will he released." Something in the man's voice made Phil look up, and lie observed an ugly look pas? between the three scamps. The young man felt extremely uncomfortable, but he maintained a bold front. '■'Anything elser" ho asked. "Yes," said the other, slowly. "You will, oi course, be dismissed from the ring, which in future will be worked on a new system. I may add, though, that you will b* kept under observation, and if you play any tricks — well, you may meet with an accident. Do you understand?" "Yes, I think so," replied Phil, with a laugh. "I am not likely to run any risks." "I wouldn't, if I were you, for I may remind you " At that moment a loud knock came tt tho street door, and was plainly audible ia the room. "What's that?" said ono of the men, rather nervously. "It is all right," replied the leader. "I have given instructions that I can see no one to-night." Nevertheless in a few minutes a servant entered. "Well, what is it?" "A gentleman, sir, who says lie is Mr Hector Cameron." "What name?" The man repeated it. "Where is he?" "In the hall, sir, talking to Miss Beatrice." The words were hardly out of the man' 3 mouth when his master pushed pact him and rushed out of the room ; but even as he did so the street door slammed, and immediately afterwards the clatter of a disappearing cab was heard in the road outside. When the master of the house returned he vseemed a changed man. His figure seemed to have collapsed, his face was pallid, and a sacred look was in his eyes. His ward followed him into the room. Ho turned on her fiercely. "What does this mean?" he cried. She flung her head back proudly. "It means," she said, and there was a ring of triumph in her voice, "that Hector is safe. You may kill me if you lik?, but you will never see him again. As for this gentleman," she added, ttirning to Phil, "I have never seen him before in my life, but I shall be grateful to him always for what he has done to-night, and I thank him from the bottom of my heart." A3 she spoke she came forward and held out her hand. Phil, with that gallantry for which he had always been distinguished^ took the little white hand in his' own, and, raising it to his lips, imprinted a kiss upon the slender fingers. Tlie girl looked at him curiously, then blushed hotly, and fled quickly from the room. "Am I permitted to take my departure?' said Phil, addressing the three men, who were holding an excited colloquy at the other end of the apartment. "Yes, clear off. you infernal meddler, and keep your mouth shut, or it will be worse for you !" Phil left tho house with a certain reluctance, and .; couple of days later curiosity, ov some other feeling, induced him to visit the neighbourhood again, only to find the house empty, and all his inquiries in the neighbourhood failed to elicit any information about the tenants. It is believed that the men belonged to a gang of swell-mobsmen who had been working London and Paris for some months, and who, some weeks later than the events here related, were known to be at work in New York. It may be of interest to state that the man Hector Cameron never married the girl whose courage and quick wit saved him from his outraged comrades in crime. Phil Mason, a year after his adventure, married and settled down. The odd thing is that although Society was charmed with his beautiful and accomplished wife, no one seemed to know who she was or where she came from, but her Christian name is Beatrice.