THE GOLDEN LOTUS.

Evening Star, Issue 14535, 10 December 1910, Page 3

THE GOLDEN LOTUS.

[Copyright.—All Rights Reserved.] By Axxbxd Wilson Babkett, Jnfchor of 'The Shadow on the Honso,' •The Slver Pen,' 'A Soldier's Love,' etc., etc. CHAPTER XYX THB GAEDEHS OF THE TCTXKBIES. D-arand had expressed his intention of returning to interview me when he should have seen his sister, and with that promise in view I had remained in. my rooms awaiting him, I was therefore considerably surprised when my concierge's wifo, knocking at my door on the following morning, informed me that Mdlle Durand was downstairs, and wished a moment' 6 conversation with me. * Ah, the poor ma'razelle!" sighed the old lady, " she looks ill and sad sinco she left here." "Mademoiselle is waiting downstairs to see me?" I said, surprised. •'Yes, monsieur. You would not have the young ladv come upstairs to pay a visit to a ba'chcloi*. Mademoiselle is comme-il-faut! But she wishes to tee you, doubtless on important affairs, and ehe awaits vou in the hall."

i hurried' down to meet my visitor. Madeleine Durand here—alone and without her brother! What had happened, then? Mdlle Durand was .standing in the doorwav. A hurried glance at her beautiful lace assured me that, although she was looking anxious and ill. there was no pressmg disaster to report. -Good morning. -Mr Carlton," she murmund. as I took her hand. "Will you fotgive mc for tumbling you !" '•You know I am ale. a .- ready to serve Y..U. Aldlle Durat.d." 1 proti -ted eagerly.

-You ii" d col be afiaid f troubling me. ■/In- occ-.'i.-n i... Mo-I can 1 do lo help vou'.' ' Yo.i hav" c. c-i your Wmhev':"

" Yt.»—i:!i. v-.!-. •■:■'-< '"' '- -1 - :i 'e. :|S you eaid he would .'.<■. I '•''" > : ' f-vp;'(." ! " .""> how relieve.! 1 IV'l 1" think thai hj ■ is here. ard that at Jcasl h>- \vi!i o • lira.' us should anything happen '." Hot lone made me glance at he:-. "Have vou reason to fear thai tli u :>

anv new dan-ei?" I asked anxiously. She '.-ave a hurried <:lauee round her, and 1 £iu.ated that .-he still felt scarcely »t.ctue ui that h'.i.ce wheie she had known s<> mui.li anxiety.

- 1 ha f to go to Uaiigraui's." T said. '"Have you anything to do? or can be wai:; W.'x way togethi.-;? It might l>o better, if y.ni have something to tell me. to hold oui convirsaliou in the open streets." fcihe consented. n--.il we strolled togv-tlic: 1 down the Rue Rampart. '•My brother telb rue that he took ynu by surprise, last night." said Mdlle- l>urand, atwr we had reached the broader pavemei-t* of the Rue Royale, and were able to converse without bumping against our fellow-passengers. "I assure you, after the first awkwardness of explaining things had pasoi-d. 1 wua glad to see him," I said. "1 feii. how pleased you would be to know be was safe."' ••1 feared that Lancelot might lie angry with me —foigive me, Mr Carlton—for giving you hi.- iettcr at that t-niu. when I was I am to pleaded tnat he is not. I think lie turate you. Mr Carlton, j,s -" She stopped with a little smile. "Say as you do!" I said eagerly. "Did. 1 not give you the letter?" she replied simply. '• You did, Mdlle Durand, and I can never thank you enough for your trust in me. I only blame myself for having done so little to help you thus far. But if you will only have patience with mo a little longer, I have a plan, and I think I can promise to 6ave your brother, unless—"Ah! Mr Carlton, you are too kind—but how can we accept your- help—how can he drag you into this terrible affair which 6eems eo hopeless, so dangerous?" " The means I had thought of would not be dangerous," 1 eaid quietly, " and I fancy they would be effective in preserving your brother from immediate and pressing danger at least. But I hesitated just now because " We had reached the end of the Rue Royale by this time and turned down the Rue do Eivoli. On our left were the Gardens of the Tuileriee. It was a dull autumn morning, slightly misty, and as I glanced through the high railing& into the gardens below I saw that they were almost deserted "You will bo tired, Mdlle Duraiid," 1 said, "if you have already walked from Montniartre this morning. Shall we enter the gardens? See, there, is a seat over there, and at least we shall bo certain of not being overheard.' She nodded, and we made our way to the little seat under the leaflless chestnuts. The dull, cold day had cleared the gardens of even the children and nursemaids who usually frequent the spot, and save for a solitary pedestrian or two making their way to the Louvre Galleries wo were alone.

How I blessed tho thought which had brought us there that morning—how I have blessed it since. Tho chestnuts hare had many a gayer coat sineo that day, and many a brighter sun has shone on Madeleine and myself seated there on that same 6eat under their shade, but somehow I fancy I have never appreciated the Gardens of the Tuileries as I did on that occasion. "The reason I hesitated just now was lrerause I feaTed that your brother himself might prevent my assisting him," I said, when wo were at last seated. "I fear h9 has 6ome scheme in his mind which may " Mdlle Durand interrupted me. "Ah, yes, Mr Carlton; you are right! That is my reason for venturing to come to you. this morning. Lancelot has some idea —some thought of braving these dreadful men. He seems—l do not quite know how to express it—to have been driven beyond reason. He will not listen to me, and attempting to see that dreadful man, Doctor Gay, make some terms with him. He is determined to, as he says, be revenged on him, and that, too, by getting possession of that horrible jewel which has brought about all this unhappiness. Oh, it is madness to try again, I know! It must all end fatally. These men—these secret, terrible enemies—will never allow him to retain the object for which they have already sacrificed so much to win. And then the police! What will they do? It is impossible to hope that they would not trace the authors of a second attempt." " Indeed, I know that the grave in Montroaje is still watched," I said, "although I am happy to tell you that the authorities give, I fancy, small importance to the las*—to yonr—expedition." Mdlle Durand shuddered. "I have not been thinking much about myself," she jaid sadly, "but, of course, I always feared that there might be danger. Bat tell me, Mr Carlton, do you think they would allow us to keep the Golden Lotus if they knew?"

"It ia difficnlb to say,* I replied. "I am utterly ignorant of the lair on such a subject as that; but I Am quite sure it would never do to take the law into our confidence The publicity which would be inevitable in such a romantic case would" —I hesitated—"would bo fatal to your brother's snacess."

Madeleine sighed. "And yet I am sure he means to risk all this! Oh I I must tell you, Mr CWton! Lancelot was not very well this awrning. He was tired after his journey, and ne is not in good health, or he would have come to you. But ho means to see yon to-dpy. Mr Carlton, will you promise me something—will von pronusfl to be careful ... It is "not fair that you should be drawn into this! Don't allow him to lead you into peril too! The shame—the misery of it all—is killing me! I—l it would kill me to think that we had brought misfortune also to a stranger whose kindness " Madeleine had broken down, as I had feared she might, when I suggested her accompanying me into the deserted garf (taps. She had buried . her face in her

hands, find was weeping almost oonvul sivelv. >

I laid my hand softly on hers, and as she felt the touch she looked up, her eyes meeting mine wildly. "ildllo Durand,''' I said earnestly, "I will try to persuade your brother to relinquish any attempt which may be dangerous to" him, I pToraise you! As I havo said, I have a plan which I think will relievo lum from all immediate danger. But if he is still determined to pursue hia way, in 6pite of peril, and 1 am unable to dissuade him, then I will give him help. I cannot promise not to. lam sorry, but I think it would not be my nature. You see, I havo no one to bother' much about me, and he is your brother."

For a moment our eyes met, and I think she understood me, for her face softened and a faint color tinged her cheek.

"I will do all I can for your brother.'' I continued, "but should 1 chanco to failwill you still think kindly of me—let me be your friend?" "You arc almost tiio only friend T have now, Mr Carlton," she murmured. "Ah! if my mother had only lived," she continued sadly. "It is terrible to iiud oneself alone—to know there is no one who cares what becomes of one, no one to turn to. If even Lancelot had never left us!"

I felt that the individual she mentioned had been better at a distance, for, even as it was. he had been nothing but a cause of misery to her. Still I would help him if I could, for her sake.

" Vou mur-st indeed have had an unhappy life," I said at last. "It is. as you say. terrible to Ik quite alone—terrible tor you to have lost your parents e.n early. How brave of vou' to have set to work as you did." ' ...

"I liked the work." she said simply. "I am fond of music and painting, and so 1 am fond of teaching them. 1 suppose. But I w:us unfortunate in losing some of niv pujiilfi—thov got man led or left Paris --and I hive not Uten successful in obtaining more. Indeed, of late I tear 1 could have .lone little of that kind of woik. [ have been so anxious. I'v.; --but when. i!w lady di"d with whom my lathe'' V-'it me." pcop.V were ■- wore v.o longer kind to mc I lost my money, and j „i )p ..„.e ih-v did not .are to trechh: about a pon:;i'<ss c-iil. I have toll it sometimes, although I have nh-d to hpioud cod rent:"'.her who 1 am. v hen iho-.-whom 1 have known ami hce.'i :i mildly v it'i pass in-' hv in the li-'e ov the ..'re.'!as if ' thev had fo: .:•'!S'!i me : even old inbdibet..' v.dv-m v.,'- k::cv ie Brittany - people V. !"i v.. 1 • welcomed to : mi holt-', end v.'oo wi-ie p:ot:d to know v-.'\ ! ron at-.tid ■■■ >\ have fomi.l it nicie crti"! t'i;.o in..--: <■; ;■-. But yo-i ;'.<:■• ynwj, - and--and pel hips, who know-, ll'.e lack othe Goiden l.ntu- may yet ihoi:_e in you- | ''"."iV.l'h'i-e so'ih-d -adly. and I redoubled mv effoi 's to cheer her and turn her ; thoied.i.. if onlv for a lit. I--, from h-r , l!'.:iil)!v. 1 seemed to si- brighter days : in store for he:---though !iow lire wot.' to j erne about 1 hardiy dared speculate--but mv efforts how siime fruit at least, and f.-'r ;i. lev. h-pne m-.-i.mtii;-! kia.-w not how mauv. fo:- th.e tit)".' had swallow s wings- -we ttdltd together and forgot tic ■ pi cent. ;

The \ii-w Made! .-ine hat! formed of Dur.md'.- intentions was. a conve: on-, as 1 .-con burnt from bis own lip.-. Me arrived late ill the evening at mv chambers, ami I noticed that, while lie was considerably more composed in his megmor. there was a determined look in his eyes ;u:d compresed lips that was new to me. ••Good day. Mr Carlton." he said, gripping my hand warmly as I opened the door for him. " I couldn't come_ earlier, I have been rnahcr seedy all day." I did not mention that 1 had seen his sister. ;l;!<1 1 only murmured a word or two of condolence.

" My -sifter tells me that ynu have, been awfully pied to her," Dura.ud_ said, after we h.-.d seated ourselves, my biggest eliair groaning under his weight. " I am euro I don't" know how to thank you, or why you should trouble about a pair of strangers." I noticed that he hud included himself in my troubles, and I tupposed he had concluded that mv assistance was assured. " I shall be onl'v too glad to serve Mdllo Durand in any way possible, - ' 1 returned quioklv. Durand looked at me for a. moment a trifle dubiou.-lv. and rubbed hi.s chin. '■The truth is," he .".aid at _ length slowly, "that 1 was wondering if you would help me in something. But of course, as I am Mdlle Durand's brother, I suppose in helping me you would be hclpinrr h er , Jin <l it would be the samo thing.' " I euppo&e so," I said, I fear not too enthusiastically.

"The truth" is, it would make her a rich woman," he continued, as if musingly. " What would?" He looked up. and then smiled frankly at me. "I see you guess what lam after." he said. *"of course you do, though ! Are you on for an adventure? I don't think it would mean more than that for you. Though with me, naturally, it will be. different. As tho i'rog in tho well said : ' Its play to you, but it's death to me.' It will bo mo they will go for! Look here, Mr Carlton, I 6\vear I will play straight with Madeleine if you will give me a hand ! I see you think I have been a. blackguard to her. and I don't expect, you to take- to me much, or to help me out of love for me myself; but if I get the Golden Lotus, and manage to sell that Diamond, she shall have half." " You are aware of tho difficulties that stand in the way."

" I ought to be! 1 had a near squeak in Jamaica. It was tho other fellow that time, but it may be me next. Y r ou mean Clav and his crew?"

-'Yet. —partly. And, what is nearly as bad, the police." "The police? Well, yes, I suppose they might interfere. Hut that ain't likely." " Tho grave at Montrouje is watched." Durand sprang to his fet with an exclamation : "Watched? By the police?" "Yes. I know the man who has the task in hand."

i Durand stared at me blankly, and then commenced to pace the room, pulling at his red whiskers. "That's bad," ho said at length. "We appear to bo between the devil and the deep sea." I saw by that "we" that Durand had already assured himself of my assistance, and 1 presumed that he had already guessed my feelings towards his sister. I suppose, indeed, that he could hardly, as a matter of fact, avoid doing so, and perhaps Lizetto might have aided him in his conclusions.

"I will givo you a hand," I 6aid, "if you insist upon it. I have no one to bother about nie if anything happened, and the Golden Lotus, if it exists still, certainly seems to bo yours. I have no objection to taking a little Tisk. I have a great regard for Mdlle Durand which it is useless to discuss at the present moment, and I should be glad to save her any more anxiety. That being understood, is there no other way but this decidedly desperate one of—of—to be frank—securing your safety 7" Durand laughed bitterly. "That cursed bill is already overdue," be said. "Unless young Carter bad succeeded in getting j round his father—and ho was drinking bard when last I saw him, and did not [seem likely to mako the attempt—l am already in Queer street." " But surely something could be done with money," I said. "I am not a rich man, but I bavc during the. last week drawn seven thousand pounds from my agents, and if you earn to give up this other affair, the money is at your service." Durand's face flushed purple, and he stopped in Ids walk and stared at mo. " Good Lord! you are a good chap!'' he said hoarsely. * " But it is too late, my dear follow. Look here! I feel I haven't very long to live. I havo been a blackguard, and I know it. I never knew, or, rather, I never recognised the value of a sister like Madeleine hefore. I have lived a selfish life, and what has it all ended in? For all-1 know, I am even now pursued by the police! The police! Good God ! what would my father say? Never mind, this is what 1 mean. I am not sunk low enough yet to take money from a man because he has a regard for my sister, or for any other reason either nowadays. Jf 1 can trot that jewel, which i» toino and

Madeleine's by right, well unci good! I shall risk my life in getting it. 1 can settle all there is against me and start afresh, as well as seeing that Madeleine is secured, from want. If I can't get itwell, I have an account to squaro with that man Denver and his friends anyway, and they are dangerous enemies, and perhaps they will get the best of the duel. If you are Teady to give me your help, I think they won't trouble you, and your onlv fear, I fancy, will be the French police. I didn't imagine there was much danger of that contingency until to-day, but vou seem to believe there is." "'l'here is not so much as I might havo led youto think even there," I said; and I related to him what Pierre Guerjn had told wo in our previous conversations. "I fancy Pierre might be got to help us, or at "least to keep a blind eye for a I time," I said, after ho had listened to my explanation. Durand nodded. " I happen to liavc my father's letter with me, and the other papers," lie said. "I brought them incase it should ever he necessary to prove my claim to the ("{olden Lotus. If this. man Guerin has any sentimental ideas connected with Hoger'and his last wishes, lie can judge from them where he intended (he l/itiis to go; and as I am my father's heir. 1 presume it will be the same tiling to him."

" L'ould you meet Guerin v. itli me to morrow?" i asked.

"Could you not see him to-night':" he asked. "Their is no time to waste. Ido not know why 1 have not yet heard iro:u or t-oen that 'man Clay. You say he was watching my sister at M.mlmartiv. I t :iw nothing of him. but lie must have feeii. me in all probability, and i:i that t.'.-e we haven't much time in which to mt. Heaven even knows if hj" may not a heady have contrived to elude, the watch and g •■" the ll.ikici l/otiv. himself."

"No. I fancv lie would rt.h.-r you did the work." 1. said. "1 expel he dot-- cot want to risk getting mixed v\< with t.ie j polite, or he would nav" <o:u;h i '■' '■' ; ; a--k j when he that came to i'a'i.-. i:e nrohnMy ■i imagines that if vou secure tho ;-nd you ! ii-.-dir J.-.- ran pO it !'; on von. You would ; no! W likely to appeal v.. liv- pio.ee loi piote.-tioii from him and his f-.e;u!s. ; "These is not mi.vh liar ot t'u.il eimtini ■■cnev." slid Ultra:,d. gliudv. , ' I 'looV-I ai my w.tf. hj. It was aire;:■ ly ■ iialt-pa. ; ; rine. | "'l itiic pre-,-. a as yon -sty." 1 lemaik- d '"We mi.j'i: cer: duly'chance t" !ii:d G'.terin at the elite w'nich he tieijoente. It wonhl 1 rave a dey if w e cotthl. It not. »c must : leave we;vj u i'.h tile chef. .Joseph, a fiioud . f in. . and Mail patiently until 10-mei row. To attempt wit Inn:: lit.-i ,-ou tdim.' him ivotiid he to run a otitic lm.ueeu-^a.ry ri.-d: of faihne." We ,-c-i ovt at ome. waiki.'g i.t : it.■!'(-.• alone the brilliant hoidevaids cr.d tip th ' Kuc- l;!a;:.i:' i pie;, rre-.l to i ;ke thlong-: n:t;t.; to our do .: iiutioti to eh;i.in-ing the d.-.river and moio ttui'ri■(|f»'iHed streets which would have h-d m, nn/.e i|t;i..-klv to oitr ,le>'.im:::'o:. I hit that Dmand he I - Mt.h sake 1 wee urn :lh:i.r to tmi i't ' po hoe duuee". Ihit i n:u-i .-oofess iiuit. ;:-. '.<'- gart.s my companion hiim-'if. he ap| e:t t-i little tr./tiidid 'uv anv ihoughi.- of per:!. I (Ollld not help 'wonileriu-' 'a iittt- at Ihe man. ;u-t 1 viati'ae-d !n:n , tliding .'dmlg I'V my side. app.iic!;!ly i areh.se of chance i,-hel-d erect, an.,l his missive led head toweriug aU)ve the th.'.ong o:i lite pavement. From iiis h-tter I had him to be anything but a man to brave .-o calmly the utiteen dangers which surrounded him. and of which he had already had such terrible' experiences. ! 'However, it is a ccitain tiling that approaching peri! bungs out a man's bed >.r worst (pialilies and I could otily regret, for Madeleine's eake, tiiat this man's lite hat! so earlv been directed into a -wrong groove. He turned to nte as ue left the Hue Blanche ami etane out. on to the Place (.'lichy. -Did you ree Clay?" he asked quietly. "Gord lieaven.s! no!" 1 replied. ;insiously. '' WhereV" "He has been iolloiidug us for i«:>ie time now. It is no good looking back. Let him follow. It won't do any harm for him to trc us talking .with a member of the detective force, j. tdiouid lik. to know that man's life! 1 don't expect he wonhl: much care fo he too i'liendly v."i hj the Hue Jerusalem if the truth were ';:m\vu."

.1 could not help giving ;i gloiuo behind as wo entered the Abba-ye dp Thelema. but either Durand had been mistaken, or Clay had desisted from pursuit, ■ for I caught no sight of his noticeable iiguro. in the crowd.

Wo <lid not iiiid Gucriii in tho lower room. an<l I made my way to iho chef, who happened to be for ;i moment d'sengaged.

"Monsieur Giicrivt will be bote in a few monioiitt-', monsieur," he replied, in answer to my inquiries. " Jfe has only just left. and lie expressed his Lntciuic:; of returning almost immediatelv in caso monsieur should call." Durand and I made onr way upstairs and seated ourselves at the table overlooking the Place C'lichy, where Pierre and 1 usually conversed. (To be continued.)