THE KING OF GREENHAVEN

Evening Star, Issue 21319, 25 January 1933, Page 3

THE KING OF GREENHAVEN

A Story of Modern Smugglers

[By Richard Wayne.]

CHAPTER XXII. *“ I MAY NEVER RE ABI.R TO MARRY YOU.” “ Well, Roger,” was Mr Stanhope’s greeting, when Merriman went to report, “ we know now just where the goods smuggled into Greenhaven are stored, thanks to you and your camera. And wo have evidence that involves that smug-faced landlord of yours, too.” “ And Wilfred Chance? ”

Give us time. We have not got so' far, as yet. You must remember that only a few hours have passed since the running of the cargo. When will our next oppQrtunity arise? ” “ Very soon, I should imagine, if the weather permits. We make the most wo can of dark, still nights at Greenhaven.”

“ And you’ve had a long run and plenty of ropo with which to hang yourselves.” Stanhope chuckled. “ You are still bent on allowing those fishing rascals to get off scot-free, I suppose? ” “ I'm relying on you for that, sir.” “ And I’m relying on you to scare them so thoroughly that no more trouble shall come from that quarter. Your friends shall not have another chance, if they run as much as a bottle of scent or a flask of cheap cognac. Is that understood? ”

“ Perfectly, sir,” Roger agreed, and proceeded to unfold his plans. “ That ought to answer,” his chief agreed. “We shall obtain search warrants for one or two warehouses that have been marked down, and our prospect of making a, case against Chance, in person, is a , good one. And if we catch your landlord and the drivers, we may implicate Chance even more seriously.' Wo arc depending very" largely on your arrangements, remember. If, In’ too great tenderness for your new friends, you allow Chance to slip through your fingers, I’ll have more to explain than a full portion.” ”1 need only a. little luck, sir,” Roger promised. “ I think 1 shall be able to manage.” Ho went off to call for Joan in the best of spirits. Even the girl's temporary suspicion of Wedlake, unfounded as-Roger knew it to be, was a factor which he' hoped to turn to account in his plan for sheeting home the real responsibility to Wilfred Chance. “ I ought to tell, you, Joan, that Wedlake has an inkling that you have fallen out with the Chances,” ho said. “ Chance seems to have _ sent some stranger to Greenhaven, in order to discover whether you had ' really returned, and his questions came to the cars of your father.”

The girl received this news in silence, and during the journey to Greenhaven said very little beyond the ordinary commonplaces of the road. But when they reached the highest point of the downs, and obtained their first sight of the sea, she sniffed the salt air and said: “There’s one thing, Roger. There will be no smuggling at Greenhaven until the moon is dark again; not for some weeks.” How do yon know that? ” “ There will be a high wind in a few hours,” she said, positively. “ And rough weather with a had sea for a week or more. If you doubt me, ask the first fisherman yon meet at Grcenbaven. Why do yon look as though yon were sorry to hoar it? ” “Did I? I think J was only registering doubt of your weather forecast.” Joan nodded confidently. “ I’m ever so glad,” .she said. “ Anything can happen in three weeks.” “ Or nothing,” Roger added; for he wished devoutly to bring off his coup. •'iul put an end to the misunderstanding into which he had become woven. The meeting between Wedlake and • loan was remarkable for the absence of all emotion or questioning on either side.

“ I have come back, dad, as I said 1 would,” Joan said, after she had kissed him. “ I am not seeing my mother any more, until she has apologised for locking mo into my room. And I never want to see Mr Chance again.” * ‘ Locked you in. did she? ” Wedlake said darkly.

“ And I’m glad to lie back, anyhow

Joan proceed'•d. “ I could have enjoyed mvsclf for a few weeks; but oven if'she had been really, kind to me. f should soon have coni" back to yon.” Wedlake nodded, silently accepting what she said.

“You'are glad to have me?” Joan asked.

' “ I’ve never boon better pleased at anythin",” was the reassuring response. And there they were content to leave the whole matter for the time being. During the night .Joan's weather forecast was fulfilled lay a blustering wind that, in the space of twenty-four hours, reached the fury of a gale. The faces of the men in the village were eloquent of frustration and disappointment: they hardly made any secret of the fact that their plans had been upset by the bad weather. Until the new moon bad waxed and waned, there would be no more smuggling at Greenhaven. But Roger found compensation for this check to his own plans the interest of the bird sanctuary. The bard weather had driven the birds to refuge there in numbers which old Gumbrill declared were altogether without precedent, and among them were rare

(The characters 'in this story are entirely imaginary, and no reference to living persons is intended.)

visitors from more northern countries, seldom seen so far south in England. And so day by day Roger renewed his interrupted companionship with Joan, who spent most of her time with him, as closely occupied with his observations and camera work as he was himself. As a rule the two talked and worked together in the sexless fashion which modern life has made possible and encouraged, but there wore times — when they sat at ’meals together, or when their hands touched by the accident of their occupation—when Roger became keenly aware of his love for the girl. And in such moments, by her averted eyes and heightened colour, Joan betrayed her share in the emotion which flooded him. An accident of the most trifling nature was all that, was needed to bring this repressed love to the surface. Id happened on the first still day alter nearly a fortnight of the roughest and wintriest weather. .’The sky had cleared, and the first hint of spring was conveyed bv a warmth in the sunlight and that mysterious feeling that every wild tiling had started growing again. The denizens of the sanctuary provided more patent evidence, for all of them responded to the cal! of spring by initiating the courtships which were the prelude to mating and nest-making. In a sheltered nook Joan discovered a primrose clump, generous in pale sulphur blossoms. It was only one of many signs that the earth was wak ? ing to another spring. They were watching a flight of swans high above them and heading for the far north, when Joan, heedless of the path she was treading, stumbled over the exposed root of an old tree, and would have fallen if Roger had not caught her in the nick of time. How it happened that Joan became held tight in his arms, and that their lips had met in a long kiss neither of them could ever recall. But when the thing happened both of them abandoned themselves to the ecstasy of the contact, and dung together exchanging kisses that said more than any words could have done. in the end Joan gently released her-, self and pushed Roger back with reluctant hands. ‘‘ 1 never meant that to happen, she sighed. 1 “ You must forget it, Roger. .1 don’t know now how we came to giving way.” “ You knew that I loved you, Roger said. “ Why should it not have happened as sweetly and naturally as it did? J want you to marry me, Joan, as soon as my work hero is done.” “ How cau l marry a nfan like you?” Joan asked. “ 1 stayed in London just long enough to realise that my mother was shunned by people like yourself. She wanted to keep mo with her, just because it gave her some air of respectability to have the daughter she deserted living witli her again.” “ I know nothing about that, and caro less,” Roger said. “ I am asking Joan Wedlake to marry me because we lovo one another, and nothing else matters.” “ It matters that the man who gave mo that name is also under a cloud,” Joan said miserably. “ Oh, Roger, 1 dread the next cargo running. When dad takes that boat out at midnight J shall try to believe that his only interest is to stand between the men and trouble. But .1 cannot believe it any longer, as 1 used to be able. 1 wish 1 had never gone to London; my faith in him is shaken.” “ Marry me and recover your faith, Roger counselled. “My darling girl, .1 hope that you wilt stand by me at the altar, dressed from head to foot in clothes bought with money provided by Wedlake. I should fed no shame n't that; and you would not need to. if Chance had not skilfully poisoned your mind.” “ If only I could get rid of the feeling that you are trying to comfort me,” Joan said wistfully. “ J love you so much, Roger, that I would rather die than feel that J had hrough yon into contact, with disgraceful things. I still remember how your cousin looked at me. No, don’t blame her. 1 should have done the same, only a few months ago.” “ You misjudge Isobel, just as you misjudge Mr Wedlake,” Roger said, and drew her to him again. “ f had meant to, speak to him again before asking you to marry me. J gave what was as good as a promise that 1 should do so. I shall speak to him to-night, and tell him you have promised to marry me.” “ Oh, no, not yet,” Joan cried. “ Wait, Roger, until . . . until 1 have had time to make up my mind. I only said that I loved you . . . that cannot be altered. But 1 may never be able to marry you, Huger. Wait a little before you speak to dad. And until 1 am able to make up my mind wo must not be together like this any more. So kiss me again, dear Roger, and then we must go homo.” Roger kissed her, divining that she. like himself, was waiting lor the next cargo-running topnakc some end of the perplexing doubts which distressed her. As bo was sure that the end would relieve her of her worst doubts and fears lie was able to take his farewell kiss with the better and lighter heart. After all, it was only for a day or two, a week at the outside. (To be continued.)