“The Jackal”

Manawatu Times, Volume LVI, Issue 7070, 1 February 1933, Page 9

“The Jackal”

(Ghapt. XXll.—Cont.) Jerry did no more than glance at the large volumo lying on the straw mattress. He was too wrapped up in the story Helen began to unfold. She told him something had swooped upon her In tho library. “My head was muffled in the folds of a heavy cloth. I must have fainted, for the next thing I remember is Jacques bending over me. He told mo that before long there would be another prisoner”—Jerry ground his toeth at that. Jacques had treated him as a harmless joke, had given him plenty of rope. What a fool he had been to fall so easily into the trap ! “He told me that I should have the pleasure of dying with the man I—with—” Helen stammered in sudden confusion.

“With the man you—” prompted Jerry. "With you,” she substituted, and Jerry did not press the matter. “We thought you had gone,” he said presently. "You did write that letter, didn't'you ” “Yes—l—l was going away. But I changed my mind when I heard Anna Jn the library with—she was not alone.”

“And you barged in, so to speak, and discovered—" “I found no one. At least Anna was alone. You see, I though you—l thought Anna—” Jerry's eyes held hers unwaveringly. “You thought I was making love to Anna?" he said quietly. "Yes," In a low voice.

All the clear and reasoned explanation Jerry had carefully thought out were forgotten. There were only three words he could think of, three well-worn words, haolmeyed and trite in sound, but they live and live again. It Is not so much the words as the ever-lasting flame within them. “I love you . . . "Jerry spoke them now. “Helen, darling, I love you. From tho moment I first saw you, I’ve loved you, Helen, more and more. You do care just a little bit? Say you do, Helen. As for Anna—oh, what does It matter about Anna?—l love you.” Helen apparently was of the same mind. This was not the moment for long explanations. Her eyes, wonderfully radiant, looked into his; her hand was on his arm; her face upturned a little to his.

“And I you, Jerry,” she said simply, and surrendered to his arms with a bliss that was almost pain. There was something infinitely deeper than tumultuous passion in this their first ldss, something too sacred to be expressed by the fierceness of lip crushing on lip. Rather gentle and lingering was It, a moment of sublime Immersion of self in the pure deeps of devotion.

"In your arms I’m not afraid to die,” whispered Helen. “I could almost welcome it. We shall die together, Jerry.” The spirit that knows no defeat surged through Jery like an irresistible flood.

“Die together I Could I die now Could I lose you now? No, we’re going to live a long time yet, my darling Helen. We’re going to get outsf this. 1 There’s a way. There is a way. Hold light on to that. There is a way and lhat’s the way we are going.’ CHAPTER XXIII. Jn at the Death. Scroggins was happy. He reclined In the bows of the motor launch as it ohurned its way downstream. One hand rested on the butt of his ponderous revolver, the other arm fondly encircling the business end of a ma-chine-gun. Beside him, Richards, the gunner, sa't chewing contentedly. He glanced behind him into the body of the lauuch and decided he had done his job satisfactorily—he and Master Jerry, that is to say. Who would have thought that his simple messages over the ’phone to Q office and Chief Constable Briggs would have produced such immediate and astonishing results? Mr Jerry had evidently left nothing to chance. Briggs himself was in the stern beside Commander Doone, and six silent men sat in the body of the boat, all of them staring intently ahead. The moon was well up. Its light gave to the still waters ahead a metallic sheen; in the wake struck quivering lire from the spreading ripples. The Skipper consulted his watch. "Half an hour to full tide," he remarked to Briggs a trifle anxiously. “She may have got away already. Briggs laughed dryly. “What does it matter? It’s a wild goose chase anyway. Whoever heard of chasing submarines in a tin-can motor launch ’* “There’s a lock at the river mouth, Doone reminded him. “Don’t I know it I I wanted to send a couple of men by road to take possession and close the gates. I nearly got my head bitten off for suggesting It, The gates must be left open That’s what I call—well, I won’t disgrace the Forco by telling you. They must think we want the whole North Sea for the chase.” Doone chuckled contentedly. This little piece of information had given him a shrewd idea of what was really afoot. He knew enough of Jerry—and these plans were Jerry’s work, o* that there was no doubt —to respect his intelligence and the Intelligence of the mysterious Q office, which seemed to wield such unlimited power and authority, as witness the arming of the police and the machine-guns in the bows. He knew that no one with a grain of sense would expect a motor launch to capture a submarine _ unaided. That was the point—unaided. There were other and very effective measures for trapping underwater For the hundredth time he thought of Jerry. He seemed to have vanished off the face of the earth. First Helen, and now Jerryl Only for the faithful Scroggins’ persistence that there was not a moment to be lost, that they must join the launch at Enderby Bridge, he would have tackled Jaoque’s there and then and torn the truth from him. Another hour, two hours perhaps! Onoe get this business settled, and then for Jaoques! Inwardly he swore a soorchlng oath. Not Briggs, not Anna, nor twenty police officers should hold him back.

CHAPTER XXIV. Jerry’s Way.

(BY J. LINDSAY HAMILTON.)

Instalment 22.

The launoh sped ’along. Now, grim against the -sky, the embattiernents of the Norman castle reared up ahead, loomed larger, towered a 3 they passed below, and receded. There, just discernible, lay the lake and the wharf. And what was that faint blur in the distance? Something moving on the surface of the river. Richards stopped chewing and jerked into abrupt action. A dazzling arm of light shot out from the bow of the launch, jerked downwards a little to left, to right, and remained stationary. It had found Its billet. "There she goes!" from Briggs. “Pull speed ahead!” came the staccato command from Doone. “Drive her 1" He half turned to Briggs. “Submerging—we’ll be 100 late.”

The launch drove on at top speed. No one spoke. All eyes were strained ahead. Scroggins now took ■charge of the searchlight, while Richards crouched low, with his ma-chine-gun trained upon the conningtower, waiting the command to opon fire, and evory Instant his target sank lower In the water.

■But the order did not come. They seemed to have drawn no nearer. Now ■only the top of the oonning tower was showing. It glowed dully in the beam of the searchlight, and finally was lost to view.

Then followed a strange chase—a eraft peopled with silent men, whoso eyes were focussed on the beam of light moving constantly upon the water, chasing a still more silent craft, an invisible craft, a phantom. The lock oame in sight. 'Long before they reached It it could be seen •that the gates were open. Beyond, the estuary widened, and in half a mile opened full on to the sea. ThP launch slowed down to navigate the lock.

"What now?” said Briggs uncertainly. “We’ll see soon enough, I think,’ replied the Skipper. At his instructions Scroggins swung the searchlight across the estuary ■mouth from point to point. Twice it halted for the space of ten seconds. On each side, close in to shore a trawler lay rolling at anchor. "Thought so,” exclaimed Doone, with exuberant satisfaction. "Trawlers! What good are they?" Doone’s reply was terse but illuminating. "Nets.” A moment later he added ■grimly, "And if there isn’t something else lying up for them, I’ll cat my hat.”

Hardly had he spoken when a beam shot out from one of the trawlers, followed Immediately by another from the opposite shore. Now from seaward came a third. They met in a dazzling arena of light, in the centre ■of which gleamed a conning tower. The water swirled and swept from its sleek back as the submarine rose to the surface. ' “Forced her up!” cried Doone. “Now watch. What’ll she do? Oh, fool! Mad fooll Look, he’s trying V> run for it.” A white stab of light, the roar of a naval gun, and a column of water leapt high In the air fifty feet ahead of the racing submarine. Still she did not check. Her bows began to dip. “She’s diving I Why don’t they let her have It Heavensl She'll do it yet. Why don’t they—ah I” It came, the spit of lurid flame, the roar of a gun, followed this time by a jagged yellow flash, a rending explosion. The fumes and smoke gradually cleared away. Where the conning tower had been was now a gaping hole. The J.i was orippled. She would never dive again. Slowly she came to the surface again. Slowly she began to move towards her conqueror. From seaward the searchlight was extinguished, but the trawler?, assisted by the launch, kept her still in a wide circle of light. The destroyer Itself was now visible less than a mile away. Between it and the following launch moved the J.I “We’ll be in at the death, observed Doone with satisfaction. His words w r cre fulfilled In a way that neither he nor anyone else could have foreseen. The J.I was within two hundred yards of the destroyer, when a figure appeared un her shell-tom deck. He stood very still, his feet firmly planted, his head thrown back, arms folded, long grey hair flying in the breeze. Across the intervening Water came the sound of his reckless, defiant ■laugh, and simultaneously the submarine seemed to icap out of the waves and shoot forward. It gathered speed, and, before the astonished oniookers could grasp what was happening, charged the destroyer full amidships. One glimpse they had as her bows struck, and the whole picture was blotted out in a blinding sheet of flame. Destroyer and submarine alike were swallowed up in it. I olloyed immediately the shattering appalling explosion. Pieces of debris began to fall around the launch. Speechless with horror, they waited for the rolling billows of smoke to clear away. The lines of the destroyer became visible. She at least was still afloat. But of the submarine not so much as a shell of wreckage remained. “In at the death,” repeated Doone grimly. “It looks as though we’ll be needed, too.” Even Scroggins was overawed. “My night out! That’s what he said.”

It is one thing to assert confidentially that nothing is impossible; one thing to thrill with the spirit of "Amor omnia vincit,” hut quite another to put it to the test, to pass from words to deeds. Without a plan of any sort in his head, Jerry fell back on humming that comforting line of verse, “And things are not what they seem.” “Of course,” he remarked to Helen with forced cheerfulness, “we’re bound to get out sooner or later. Scroggins and your uncle will be on the trail like bloodhounds shortly,” He glanced at his watch. “An hour or two yet before they get back, and things will begin to hum." „ , “But will they know? Uncle Brio thinks I am safe in London.” - ATo be .continued.'