THE LADY OF THE RUINS.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLIV, Issue 13600, 20 November 1907, Page 10

THE LADY OF THE RUINS.

fPUBLISHED BY SPECIAL- ARRANGEMENT.]

BY TOM GALLON. Author of "Tatterley." "Dicky MonteitV " Fate's Beggar Maid," " Kiddy," " A Rogue in Lov«." "The Charity Ghost," Etc.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

CHAPTER XV.

IX THE SHADOW OV THE LAN'TKBN. Martin Gale, waking dazed and racked with pain as the dawn was stealing into the house, failed for a time to remember where he was, or what had happened. Gradually he traced his way back to that point when he had stood outside the house, watching Lucy Doveton striving to gain admittunce, and from that point his task of remembrance was easy, if slow. He staggered to his., feet at last, cursing the man who had struck the blow, cursing the girl who had slipped out of his grasp. Thinking over the matter carefully and from every point »f view, a3 well as hie aching brain would allow, he came to the conclusion that he had blundered horribly. He had given away the plot. to the girl, and then had allowed her to escape;, already that careful scheme for the ruin of Giles Blackshaw might hate been set aside' and brought to nought. He chafed over another matter, tooa matter that ate its way into his heart, and wonld not be readily plucked out. He had seen, by the very "fashion in which Lucy spoke of this man, where her; chief interest in the tStory lay, and he felt instinctively that Be had forged another bond to draw the two together. > She would fly to tho man to warn him; - she would work with the man for the destruction of the plot. There was no doubt in the mind of Martin Gale that he had indeed blundered horribly. Could that blunder he repaired? That was the first thought in his mind as he sat there in the dull, empty house, thinking out the problem. Caught, as it were, in the raesnes of his own net,' he strove to sec clearly how this might possibly happen, or what might not; how this person might operate for good or ill onthis side of the story, or that person pull in another direction. Above all, when he came to think about it, he was puzzled, and alarmed'at the absence of the woman Jane Ingles from the house. Had she suspected something, or seen something? And* in what particular direction would she move in the maze that was about them all? « Two motives stirred the man; the first— to give him due credit for —loyalty to his friend Randal Farrer; the second, his desire to get bold of the girl, and at the same time -to be revenged upon her. He was of that fibrethis man of the bulldog € —that would not tolerate a rival; there wis an additional reason now in his mind for getting rid of Giles Blackshaw. But first he would hunt up Randal Farrer, and consult with him' as to what was best to be done. He was placed in an awkward position in being in that bouse at»all; he had got into it by stealth, and he must leave it by stealth. There was a small window at the side of the door in the wide hall. He crept to it and looked out. There was nothing stirring in the garden, and the gate leading to the street was open, as lie remembered to have left it the night before. He was just about to open the door when a policeman, sauntering past on his beat, stopped for a moment to Took in, stepped inside the gate, in fact, and looked up casually at the desolate-looking house. Martin Gale leant there against tlie wall behind the little window, with his heart beating unsteadily, until presently the man sauntered out of the garden and went on his way. After a little lapse of time Gale came out end gained the road, and walked rapidly away. He called at the first surgery he passed and had his head strapped and bandaged. He told the surgeon, that lie had been set upon the night before by roughs, and had only just regained consciousness. He parried the man's questions skilfully, assured him that he was going straight home, and forthwith set out to find Randal Fairer. In that he was not at first successful. Farrer was not at home, and the manservant informed him that he knew nothing of bis master's movements; he had gone out very early, and had said nothing as to his return. Martin Gale, being well known to the man, was allowed to wait for some time ; but Farrer did not return. Inwardly fuming at the delay, Gale went out, and wandered about for an hour or two; finally he came back to the house in the early afternoon, to find that Fairer.had just returned. He walked into the room where his friend was, and stood there looking at him in silence, and seeming to wait for. the natural outcry his bandaged head would invoke. "Yes, lake a good look at me," he said, savagely, as he faced his friend. "I've been battered in your service, and in that of your whelp of a brother. Now, from this time.forth"—the man advanced to the table and struck it heavily with his fist while he glared at Randal Farrer—"from this hoar things take on a different complexion. From .this time I fight for my own hand; I take up this business, not on your account alone, but on imy own. ■ You needn't think I'm. going .to desert you, I sha'n't do that,- but I .have a purpose to serve, even in helping you." "What has happened?" asked Randal Farrer. Gale told him all that had happened, with the. single reservation of his overtures to Lucy Doveton—that was a thing for him-self-and his own conscience. He described how lie had got into the house, suggesting that his real motive had been one of curiosity, as to what the girl was'going to'do,described the assault upon ,himself, and, above all, suggested that with the escape of the. girl it might reasonably be supposed that Giles Blackshaw ' Would soon learn what had been done with the body of -Daw son .Varde, J and- 60 I could not 1 ' possibly -be taken by;surprise^:a*..'ha4 bean' originally intended-

" But, my dear Gale," urged Randal Farrer, when the other had finished, "don't you see that the mere fact of his having the thing at Sunderbury settles the question, once and for all, of his responsibility for tho murder; he simply can't get out of it. We . may very well leave the thing alone, secure in the fact that whatever he does he must incriminate himself. The thing is simply out of our hands." "It is not!" exclaimed Martin Gale, savagely. "It will never be out of our hands until the man himself hangs for it, and is done with. We're not safe until that happens. For my part, I can't rest in London until I know that the law has its hand upon him, and that there is no escape for him. In any case, we must be ready with our letter when the right moment arrives." Randal Farrer stood looking at him cunningly for a moment or two, then he leant forward across the table and spoke in a whisper. " Gale, there's more in this than you care to say. You've been pretty lukewarm it before. Why this sudden heat? Why this determination to hunt down the man? What has he done to you Martin Gale shifted his feet uneasily, and did not look at the other man. " Never mind what he's done to me," he said. " I'll own, if you like, that I have a personal grudge against hima score to be wiped off. I'm more strong about the thing probably than you are. We won't waste words over it; let this suffice. I'd hunt him down now, if I were certain that at tho end my own life should be forfeit. I'd hunt him down now, even if I knew with certainty that the chase should end in Hades. If I had my grip upon his throat now"—his sinewv hands were j-pread out Wore him ; slowly clenching and unclenching horribly —" I would not let him go while there was a breath of life left in him." Randal Farrer laughed harshly. " You're a curious fellow," he said; " but I have a feeling that in this matter you may overreach vourself, and do more harm than good. Hang it all, man, we've done all that is necessary, surely. It is for him to get rid of the burden now — burden we have placed upon his shoulders." "What about Wilfred?" asked Gale, abruptly. " Oh." Wilfred's all right—keeping out of the way, 1 expect. There's no one to say a word against (him; lie's perfectly safe. When the time comes we can tell our tale and produce our evidence ; my brother does not touch the matter at all." •' Well, at all events, Farter, I'm not satisfied yet," said Martin Gale after a pause. " I have a feeling that this man may yet slip through our lingers I have a deeper feeling still that he may have the laugh of us in tJie end. I've stood by you loyally, Randal Farrer, and have done all that you suggested ; you must yield to me in this matter. I want to go down to Sunderbury know for myself that all is right. I know you would urge that it labetter to leave the matter alone; but there you're wrong. By this time the girl has warned this man Blackshaw of his danger: he may contrive to wriggle out of it again. Wbv not go down and pin n*m to the thing, show our evidence, and be done with it all?" It was a difficult matter to persuade Randal Farrer, who already felt pretty secure as to the result of their recent journey. But by invoking the name of Wilfred Farrer, and by playing upon the other's fears in regard" to tlie boy's safety, Martin Gale at last gained his point. Randal Farrer agreed to venture once again into the heart of the business, and so to be certain that there was no possibility of escape for Giles Blackshaw. So the car fled away from London once again in the direction of Sunderbury. And thus it happened that Martin Gale, getting out at the small inn for refreshment (for he felt faint and ill still from the effect of the blow), stumbled into the very room wherein the lovers sat; and got away again, as we know, unobserved. Coming out to the car, he jumped in and urged Randal Farrer to start at once. V. " Ho's in there—with tho girl," he whispered, excitedly. - " Set the thing going. Let's get down" there first and see that all is well. He's got to fumble about over trains; we can take our own road, and need stop for nothing. There are doubts my mind, Fairer, about this business)/ we're not out of the wood yet by any means. Above all- things,'l don't like the man and,, the girl together." '.. ...,.- ' Randal.Farrer looked at him .curiously as • the oar flow along. "So it'.? Ithe-girl,- is it?" ht* said. '. Martin Gale made no reply, and the rest' of the journey was accomplished in silence. It was growing dark when they reached the neighbourhood- of Sunderbury Hal!, and there, at a whispered suggestion,nun Gale, Farm- turned the car aside 1 into a little grass-covered road that led down between high banks into a sort of wood. There they-' stopped, deciding to leave the car there, ; out of sight of everyone, until the morrow. ; Martin Gale, who reemed now to be en- j dowed with a new power and a new intelligence for the work in .hand, stripped down light boughs from the tre'.s, and piled them with brushwood round the car, so as to mask its glaring paint from any chance, passer-by. That done, they crept to the'" edge of the wood, and, looking out to see that they were not observed, made their way to the house. Martin Gale had slipped into the pocket of the long overcoat be wore that darklantern which, in the hurry of exit, had been left behind in the house at Highgate by Jimmy Clegg. Ho exhibited it now with some complacency. "This may prove useful, Farrer," he whispered. "I suppose you mean to go to the ruins again to see what has happened?" Randal Farrer nodded, and together they crept into the grounds and towards the ruins. From the inhabited part of the house a light showed in one of the base-' ment windows; for the rest, the place was deserted. Randal Farm- evidently did not i care much for the expedition; .he drew" back once, w'ith a band on Martin Gale's arm, and spoke in a whisper. " Didn't you see someone moving?" he said. " Look—over there by the wall—or is it a shadow?" "A shadow, of course," said Gale, impatiently. "When we get inside the doorway I'll liirht the lantern. There's nothing' to be afraid of."

Both faces were bent over the lantern in the doorway, while Gale got a match. The light that streamed out seemed to mate tlie wliadows deeper and blacker about them. They looked up with a sigh of relief when the task was accomplished—to find, horribly enough, another face looking • into ,-' their*. They drew back, with the light of tlie lantern turned upon that face; they saw that it was Jane Ingles. " What— are you doing here?" stain-' mered Gale. ..;,

"I'm glad you've come, sir," said the woman, stolidly ignoring the question and addressing Randal Farrer. " I've been guarding them." " Guarding them?" The two men glanced at each oilier, and then at her. " Yes, sir— living and the dead. Mr. Dawson Varde's —and Mr. Wilfred Fairer."

(To be continued next Saturday.)