JILL OF THE FIELDS

Evening Star, Issue 21640, 8 February 1934, Page 3

JILL OF THE FIELDS

[By KENNAWAY JAMES.]

(Author of “ Hers to Command,” 11 What Hargreaves Knew,” etc.)

CHAPTER XVII. Barbour Reads the News. There was a liveliness at the King’s Arms m Dcnbridgc, Barbour, who had been the cause of much curiosity to its frequenters, had now become a sensation. Ho had breakfasted before he saw the one and on|y newspaper, which carried the story of himself. He had noticed a number of strange glances from the people about the hotel, but had attributed them to the fact that everyone knew that he was acquainted with the people at Stone Town. He was disillusioned when the landlady came to him after breakfast and put a motherly hand upon his shoulder. “ There now ; ” she said, “ I hope you and Miss Merndew are going to be very happy.” 'Phillip gasped. “ However did you get to know about it?” "lie asked. ‘ , , , “ Lor’ bless ns, replied the landlady, “ haven’t you seen the paper this morning? Why, there’s ever such a long piece in it about you and Miss Jill. Wait a minute; I’ll go and fetch it for you.” ‘ A moment later she returned with Mr Hissopp’s great organ of public opinion. Barbour swore softly as he looked at the. fateful page. For a moment or two he was puzzled ■is to its source, then he remembered ids remark to Hissopp that he was engaged to Jill. He said it, of course, to I keep the newspaper _ man in order. I Tjiese chaps needed being kept in their, i place. But who on earth expected it ! to go straight into tho paper? If he j ever encountered that Hissopp fellow I again he would show him where to step ■ «ff. ■ ■ , , Then he remembered tho promise he bad given to Jill that he would not tell anyone of their engagement. What she would say to him about this was something about which he could only conjecture. His thoughts were interrupted by the , landlady, who had not left his side. “ Yes, we all hope you’ll be very happy,” she repeated, little knowing Barbour’s sickness of heart. “ Funny von should go and get fixed up on a day like that, though; but young folk do funny things nowadays. I’ve heard some girls choose the thirteenth of the month, which is supposed to be unlucky. Now I’ll wager you two have done'the same thing.” . What do you mean?” asked Barbour half-consciously. “ Why, I mean 1 should think it was unlucky" to get engaged to a girl on a farm where a murder’s been done that very day. Now, if you ask me, nothing would mage mo do a thing like that. But there you are, there’s no accounting for taste.” Barbour made his escape from the garrulous old dame as soon as he decently could* and went out into the street. From-everywhere came glances, some of them, Barbour thought, not expressing much good-will for his future. At one point, where he stopped to look ih a shop window, he found himself the centre of a small crowd of boys. A plague on tile fellow Hissopp,” he said. ‘Then he nerved himself to the inevitable and decided to go over to Stone Town at once. It was a very different Phillip Barhour who stood at the old farm door to-day from the jaunty young man who had first entered the farmyard to watch the cider-making. Jill had been expecting Phillip Barbour to call early as an outcome of the morning’s news in the newspapers, and when Mrs Blore announced his name she had already made up her mind to keep him waiting. 1 Jill had also taken another step. She had asked a newspaper man if he cohld put her in touch with the.man representing the paper which carried the news of he? engagement. “ Why,.that’s Hissopp,” said the reporter, who was young and eager, “ but surely, Miss Merridew. you’ve given him enough of a scoop to last him a long tim6.- If you have any more hews , you’ve no idea bow grateful .” .‘Jill looked at him. He seemed very y6ung, and somehow she thought he was afraid of bis job. Possibly it was ttie first important case on which he had been sent. For a moment she was inclined to give him some news which would have improved his self-confidence,

but she refrained because she was not sure of herself- The news would have been , a contradiction of the statement nf her engagement. She thought for a few moments, wondering in what way she could belli) the young journalist, then she said; . “ Several ■of you people have been here asking to he allowed to look around the inside of Stone Town, witli a view to writing about it. Now, how would it be if you came round ? ” , “ You mean just me? ” asked the young man incredulously. “ Yes, just you,” said Jill, smiling. “ I’ll promise not to let anyone else in. Would you like to come? ” “ Miss Merridew,” exclaimed the reporter, “you have no idea what a favour you are doing mo. 1 am easily the,youngest fellow on this job, and one or two of the others have not been too helpful. You see, they’re a sort of party among themselves, like dealers at a'sale.; and I am rather in the cold.” ’’That settles it, then,” said Jill ag she led the way into the house. “ 'lou shall come in out of the cold.” The young man, whose name was Simmons, ’ followed her with visions of headlines dancing before his eyes. ‘lnside Stone Town,’ Mystery Farm From Within.’ Yes. he could see himself being patted on the back by his chief when he handed in his copy, for ho would do it personally, not over the wire. " And now 1 want you to send Mr Hissop io me.” said Jill a little later. , “ You won’t tell him I’ve been oyer Stone Town, will you?” asked Simmons. a little nervously. “Of course not,” laughed Jill. “ He can . wait till he sees it in your own paper. And now I’ll tell you something which I don’t want you to tell him. It is this, that speaking of her engagement. Miss Merridew said the report was annoyingly nremature.” Blessing upon blessing 1- “ Oh, thunk you. Miss Merridew. You are—you are—a sport!” Simmons could hardly restrain his gratitude., and not without reason, for he became the envy of his more sophisticated colleagues ami was complimented personally by the baron who owned his newspaper. And if any journalist wanted more than that he was not. likely to pet it. Jt did not take Simmons long to find Hissop, who was already in the little barn to which the police had consigned the Press. Hissop, thinking something else good had come his way, went over to the farm with all his accustomed confidence. Jill wasted no words when she met him. i,i “ Who told you 1 was engaged to be married to Mr Barbour? ” she asked in a way which rather surprised Mr Hissoprp. He was accustomed to the might of his paper ensuring respect, if not genuflection. With the secrecy which newspaper men cultivate, his first impulse was not to tell Jill. “ I’m afraid—er—Miss Merridew. that these are little things which come in tho way of a reporter’s work.’ “ Obviously,” said Jill, “ but that dons nut stop me asking where you got tlic information. 1 want it for no’improper reason, and if 1 don’t get it I shall ring up your newspaper and ask them for it.” Hissopp could scarcely refrain frpm laughing as he thought of the reception she would get from his hard-bitten news editor. “Miss Merridew,” he could hear the latter saying, “either the report is true or it is not. if it is true, it stands. If it is untrue, we will deny it. Thank you. Good day.” He thought' rapidly for a few moments. Perhaps, after all, there was no particular reason for withholding tho information. He had given no pledge of confidence, and secrecy had never been suggested. Barbour had blabbed it all without the least reticence. Further, to offend Jill was not the way of obtaining her help. Indeed, the fact that he was actually speaking to her was a stroke of luck, and his subconscious mind was busy at work wondering how best to make uSe of the opportunity. Well.' as a matter of fact, Miss Merridew,” he said, “ it was Mr Barbour himself ' who told me. I won’t say he gave it out as for publication, but, on the other hand, he mentioned no restrictions.” “ But how came he to tell you.” . “ Well,- 1 asked if 1 could see you, and was told you were with him. Then he came down and said I could not be allowed to speak to you. I asked him his authority. I thought I was entitled to do that —and lie said because he had just become engaged to yon.” ■ “ Just like that?” “ Yes. like that.” said Hissopp, whereupon Jill showed a gleam of anger in her eyes. 1 hope no harm has come of its being published?” added Hissopp. “ No, no, not at all,” said Jill. “ It was only that i did not want to blame the wrong person. I’m very grateful lor what you’ve tojd rue.” “Don’t mention it. Miss Merridew," said Hissopp. “ And now I wonder if you could do me a little favour?” “ I will if 1 can,” said Jill, “ but I’vo been asked so many strange favours lately that I can make no promise.”

A ROMANCE

Hissopp’s .sub-conscious mind bad done its work and decided that now would be the time to ask Jill to show him round the old house. The conversation so far had taken place at the door. > “ Well, 1 should be deeply grateful if you wouid let me have a look round the interior of your wonderful old farm. You see, people are all anxious to know of its beauties.” “And your paper to publish, them!' Yes, I think so, Mr Hissopp. Anyhow. I’m awfully sorry 1 cannot allow you,” she said with her sweetest smile. “ You see 1 am very, very busy. Now, if you had come round a little earlier- ’’ Mr Hissopp immediately said he would he round very early on the following day, and a little later he was gone To some it might have seemed an unnecessary trouble to see Hissopp when she could easily have obtained the same information from Phillip Barbour himself; but not so to Jill, who hated doing things by halves. She was more annoyed and hurt about the report than she could possibly describe. It was no light matter to her, for it affected her reputation in the county and elsewhere. There wore people she dare not face again after that dreadful report. A serious injury had been dono to her. and she wanted to ascertain lacts for herself before seeing Barbour. The market at Denbridgc would roar with derision. She could not go there for a long time. She could, of course, send Mark in her stead. 'Then came the sudden realisation, which for an hour nr so she had forgotten—Mark was leaving her. Oh, what was happening to her world? Mark leaving. She had pro-

(To be continued.)

mised to become Barbour's will?, yet here she was waiting to castigaV linn. Her farm was overrun by police and Press and morbid spectators. Was this the world in which she had so peacefully lived before, or had she strayed into some mad world peopled hv mad folk? Ov was she mad herself?.