NURSE MONICA'S PATIENT.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLIX, Issue 14895, 22 January 1912, Page 4

NURSE MONICA'S PATIENT.

t * " * FUBLIBHE© BT SPECIAL AtUBAItGBMEST.

j BY PERCY JAMES BREBNER, ! Author of "I*3llo Auckland's Commission." | "The Hepsworth Million." "The Great 1.:,' ■ Buby." ***- I OOPTBIQHT. ? CHAPTER XIX.-(Continued.) -I think he is acting foolishly," Rogers admitted, "but then I do not know the .hole of the fact,. One tog I am prepared to do, to guarantee his honest*. Shortly, but without any reticence, Rogers told Bramley all he knew concerning his friend, his position, his character his relations with his uncle. He told I • him the history of his own acquaintance with Mr. Kesterton, and how he had returned from dining at the Savoy to find his Tooms in disorder. ■ v "Nothing was missing, no said. 1 have not many valuables but the few things which would naturally attract the attention of an ordinary burglar had not been touched. It appears certain that the packet in my possession was the oh- , iect of the search and that very morning, luckily, I had deposited it with my bankers." , " Because Mr. Kesterton had asked you to dinner?" inquired Bramley. "Yes- I was suspicious, and when i saw' my rooms on my return, I ™> convinced that my suspicions were well founded It was not until I received Miss Iravers's letter that/nat conviction was in anv way shaken." $' And now?" asked Bramley. E "I have made tho first move towards f satisfying myself by coming to see. you. and I have not yet said anything to the !?■'?: police." , "The idea of John Kesterton being implicated is absurd." said Bramley. "Ms -anxiety concerning his nephew is in keepins, with his character. He is one of : ' those men who do good by stealth— J ' know this from my own experience—and his reputation is unblemished m the neighbourhood. I did not know he had a ft nephew." "Without being able to show chapter and verse for the statement, I may say that his reputation is not so unassailable '' is the business world. Thero is nothing definite, but one hears him spoken of some- > times with an accompaniment of shrugging ; ~ shoulders. ,He is called a successful company promoter, which, justly or un Justly, »hvavs seems to imply sharp practice. Men say "he has got rich a little too quickly. Until comparatively recent times he was in quite a moderate way of business." " But such things are always said of sucst cessful men, Mr. Rogers." V" True, but I fancy the sting is a little sharper in this case, and it is a fact that iit times he has been associated with men whose characters will not bear minute inspection. However, I have nothing definite p- against him, and I am inclined to believe :' . that in thinking him responsible for the searching of my rooms I was wrong." "If yon were right, I can assure you my belief in almost every man of my , : acquaintance would be shaken," said • B:*amlev. *"After all. belief or disbelief in Mr. • Kesterton does not affect our position, does it?" said Rogers. "We may leave him out of the question altogether and yet not lessen the gravity of the case. Your . patient has only just escaped being raur- , dered, and I have become of interest to some villains, probably the same villains." " The position is serious." "It is not to be supposed that the • scoundrels will be satisfied with what they v have done; they will try again, and f! without much delay. It is absolutely necessary that the police should be told." "There I quite agree with you," said the doctor. • "It is obviously useless for us to go to them with only half a story," Rogers went on; " but I think, when your patient '~ knows what has happened to me, he willdecide that the secret cannot be kept any .. longer." '. "That is not so certain," said Bram- .. ley. "If ■ a miraculous escape from assassination, would not move him, I do not see ~ ,why your troubles should." "We must make Miss Travers league herself with us against him if necessary. She can so easily say that the responsibility is too much for her." " He hap been so obstinate from the first, I doubt whether that will have any effect." Bramley answered. > . >'■ " And I believe she is the trump card," said Rogers. "When she saw me in Wylchester the other day she gave me to un|fpr; . ; derstand that he had promised to tell her his secret if she asked him." "And she has not asked him. She is " Again, doctor, we have to admit that we do not know all the facts. Between nurse and patient thero may be secretfe, tender in their nature, perchance. I do not know, 'I am only mentioning a pos- \ . ■ sibility. 'Miss Trarers is a very charm- " , ing woman, as courageous and good, I : , should imagine, as she is beautiful. My friend has had' nothing else to do but lie J; still and admire her." 'l.'l You may be right." r "Canyon come over with me to Culver's Mill \ this afternoon and see?" j! "I will motor you over," said Bramley. f. "I am not sure that persuasion, 6ven with ; ; the nurse to help us, is going to be of any good, so if you take my advice you will ! be firm in your resolve to have the matter cleared up. ' If he will. not speak, at any rate make it quite plain that you intend '; - going to the police with your part of the story. It is no exaggeration to say that , your own safety demands it." "I can see you are still a little doubtful as to your patient's honesty." "Shall we say that I am dubiouu of ■ him as you are of John Kesterton?" said Bramby, The doctor did not take a chauffeur with him that afternoon, he drove himself. It was a powerful car, and although the doctor paid little attention to speed limits, he had never yet been summoned. Accustomed to driving fast himself, it was there- . fore significant when he accused anyone k else of furious driving. He did so to-day. Meeting them along a straight piece of road came a closed car driven at its top . speed. It flashed past him in a whirl of dust. « "Can you see the number of that car?" he said. "I can hardly see the car, let alone the number," Rogers answered, turning round to look after it. "Those are the kind of people who ought to be fined," Bramley muttered. " I would give information against them myself. Road hogs!" CHAPTER XX. THE XnfDETESDBD PATIENT. Monica became slowly conscious of pain, pain in every limb, it seemed, but especially in her wrists and in her shoul- . dens. She could not connect it with anything that had happened to her. The atmosphere about her was close and sickly, , and there was a constant drumming in her • ears. She tried to move but could not; ' she tried to speak but could utter no • articulate sound. For a little while the , persistent drumming in her ears troubled i her, then soothed her, and she lost all consciousness again. She opened her eyes , again presently, hardly knowing whether ] she were still in a profound dream or - whether the things about her were real. ' From a first impression that a dark cloth i was stretched over her, so close to her i that had she had the energy enough to , raise her hand she could have touched it, she gradually awoke to the fact that she : was in a closed motor. It was the con- : ; ■'!";. tinuous purring of the engine which had fp- first troubled, then soothed her. And a little later she became conscious of many < things. Her hands were securely fastened together fine was gagged so that she could i not cry out; a man of rough and unprepossessing appearance sat beside her. After looking at him curiously for a little ; while, wondering whether she ought to ; be able ; tin* recognise him, she made an effort to speak in him. He could not, or ; d {would not, understand what she .tried to J i My. "V

"You're not- wanted • to ■ talk," he growled, "and I'm not answering any questions." If she failed to obtain any information, ' the effort to speak sorted to help Monica back to full consciousness. She began to remember with perfect* clearness all that had happened that afternoon, and all that. Maurice had said to heir. She realised that he had not quite succeeded in dispelling her doubts, felt instinctively that there was something forced about his gaiety, that something worried him in spit© of his declaration that his troubles were practically at an end. Ho had tried to make her sav she was glad at the prospect of an early marriage, and she had not said so—she could not. Another man had stopped into her life. At the thought of this other man she tried to speak again. " Shut up :" said her companion roughly. Then, perhaps for the first time, Monica realised the full meaning of her position. She had been kidnapped, and it could only be for one purpose— that her patient might bo left at the mercy of his enemies. They had planned, and had succeeded in capturing her. Perhaps even .now they had found him alone and killed him. Mr. Hook had promised to watch, and ho would certainly keep that promise; but he was only one, and they were many. She was quite sure that there had been many round her as she slipped into unconsciousness. "Why had she left Culver's Mill that afternoon? With the experience she had had, nothing ought to have enticed her away. It was Maurice's letter, so worded that she was obliged to go and meet him or let him come to the mill. The sequence of events was strange, and the terrible thought came to her that Maurice must have known, that he must have been privy to that attack. Yet how could ho bo? The idea was surelv absurd, since by the pace she had walked she had practically determined tho spot whero they should meet. Had she gone faster or slower tho men in the copse would have been frustrated. Then Maurice had been attacked too. There had been time for her to see him dragged backwards from the tree-trunk on which they were seated, she had seen the cloth thrown over his head. They had rendered him powerless to help her. Where was he now ? What had they done to him ? Monica turned towards the man beside her, some idea in her mind that she might play the plaintive woman and wheedle information out of him, but the expression upon his face kept her silent. He was brutal-looking. Already ho had spoken roughly he seemed quite capable of striking her if she persisted in talking, or trying to talk to him. He was undoubtedly in league with the would-be assassins; he might easily become a murderer himself if his safety * demanded it. She was not afraid. Her own safety did not occupy her thoughts, but the. well-being of another did, and she would not lose hope. Silence and patience would serve her best ; she might yet be able to help if she watched for her opportunity and was ready to take it when it came. They were travelling rapidly, but not j ao fast as when Dr. Bramley referred to \ them as road hogs. It was very fortunate that the doctor did not recognise who was in the car, for lie would certainly have followed it, and might have played un- ; wittingly into the hands of the enemy. [ The pace had been furious at first, in order ! to leave the copse as far behind as possible in the shortest time ; but it had soon slackened. The driver had no desire to fall into a police trap. It would be very awkward it the woman in the car were seen. Monica's position in the corner was a cramped one, and whenever she moved to ease it the man looked at her savagely. The blinds were partly drawn down, and she could see little of the country through which they passed. She longed for a breakdown, but not on the country road, for she was very uncertain what might happen to her there. She hoped it might come as they passed through some town or village. She might escape then. It would be difficult to explain a bound and gagged'woman, and she was prepared to make a struggle for liberty should such a chance occur. But the engine purred on steadily, rhythmically; the car was a good one, and had been specially overhauled that it might do this particular journey without mishap. There was more traffic along the roads presently, and the pace was reduced; in tact, they proceeded quite slowly, as if there were danger of arriving at their destination before they were expected Dusk came, and there . were . lights in tho streets and in shop windows. The traffic constantly increased, * and was continuous. Trams went smoothly past them. They were evidently in the suburbs of London. Maurice Wedmore recovered consciousness some time before Monica did. He found himself lying on the turf under some trees, and seated a few yards away from him was a man smoking a short black pipe. " Hallo, gov'nor ! Awake ?" "Awake! What thewhere am I?" " Only about a hundred yards away from where you was sitting with that young woman. Straight, I admires your choice." "Where are the others?" " Cant say by this time. They hung about a bit to see that you was all right, and to see the girl safely off, and to arrange things. They've been gone half an hour or moto now. Perhaps they've had the luck to get through with the job by this time." " Were yon one of those who attacked me?" " I was, guv'nor, and it was all done according to instructions." "Not my instructions." "Very likely not," answered the man with a grin. " As I understand it, you wasn't expecting anything so thorough, was you But what they says was this— and since I've cast my eyes on the gal I'm inclined to think they was right—they says, when it comes to the point he may kick, if he's really in love he's almost sure to kick, and blooming hard too ; that may spoil things, so we'll be thorough in case of accident." "I'll break Hampson's head for this," Wedmoro said with an oath. " That's as you please, gov'nor," the man answered. " I daresay I should feel the same way. All I was told to do was to see that you got safely to Wylchester, and I was to give you a tip to get back to London as soon as possible, and wait until you "heard from Mr. Hampson. There'll be trouble before night, and the sooner we turn our backs on this part of the country the better." Wedmore struggled to his feet, rather dazed and giddy. "Curse Hampson and the whole lot of them !" he said. "Why cannot they carry out the plans as arranged?" "That s what they re doing, guv'nor, right enough What s wrong is that you didn't happen to know the plans; that's where it is. How about getting back "You needn't come with me. I can find my way." "I was to keep an eye on you until you got to Wylchester in case you shouldn't eel very well, do you see.' Don't you worry, guv'nor, them's my orders, and I'll ! walk behind. Nobody'll know that I belong to you. I'd have put on my Sunday togs if I'd known beforehand. This week they ain't in at uncle's, for a wonder." Wedmore walked a dozen yards towards the road and stopped. "Where did they take Tier to?" "I don't know. They didn't tell me nothing about that. Johnson went with her, so she's in good company. She's a rare plucked 'un, I'll say that for her. If they hadn't been darned slippy she'd have had a bullet into one or two on 'em." "She wasn't hurt?" "Hurt! No. You make your mind easy. They treated her like a lamb—didn't know it was in 'em to be so gentleand she went off in the car as comfortable as possible. Johnson went with her, and he has a way with gals, I've been told, though you wouldn't think so to look at him." The man was not concealing information ; he knew nothing more. The whole schemo had elaborated in every detail, every circumstance had been carefully weighed and prepared for. When Collier' and Hampson put their brains into partnership the result was usually crowned with success. Collier was perhaps the bolder at originating a scheme, but the care over tho endless _ details was Hampson's. His ingenuity in providing against surprises and dangers was wonderful, and his proposals were always listened to and : almost always followed. In this case, he argued, after what had happened there already. Culver's Mill would be watched while the nurse was away, and therefore an attempt to get at Kesterton's nephew . at once was foredoomed to failure. They ' must wait until there was anxiety because :

she had not returned; the whole machinery would be thrown out of gear then and their task would be easy. To carry out the scheme effectually several men had to be taken into confidence must be no failure this .time — hut full confidence was only given to one or two.' As Hampson was fond of saying, one of the secrets of success in life was to give others _as little opportunity as possible of becoming witnesses against you. Contradiction in the witness-box means safety for the man in the dock, was an aphorism of his. So each man had his appointed duty now; one to watch the road in case of a surprise, another to watch the mill lest an alarm should bo given, some to secure Hook and his wife and prevent their making a noise. "The mill hands will have stopped work for the day, or will have been turned out to look for the nurse," said Hampson, as they approached the house. "The place looks pretty quiet." "I believe we've worked it all right this time," said Collier. "It looks to me as if we had timed it exactly." Two men, told off for that purpose, went to the door. They were to ask Hook for work and hold him in conversation for a few moment**. The door was shut, and they knocked. There was no answer, and they waited, and then knocked again. Still there was no answer. One man turned the handle, and the door opened, but he did not go in. "Better go back and tell the guv'nor." ho whispered to his companion. "This reception wasn't thought of, and we ain't got any instructions about it." Collier and Hampson intended to be seen as little as possible. It was part of Hampson's plan not to run unnecessary risk. This information, however, made them venturesome. "Keep a good look-out," said Collier to the men with him, and then he followed Hampson to the door. They knocked loudly, and, receiving no answer, opened the door and called for Mr. Hook. No, one answered them. "This is going to bo child's play, after all." said Collier, going in. "Rather too easy, isn't it?" said Hampson. -_~ "They're out looking for the nurse. It s exactly as vbu prophesied." So complete, a fulfilment of his prophecy appeared to trouble Hampson, however. Experience had taught him that things seldom turned out quite as anticipated; a margin for the unexpected was always advisable, and that margin was to meet unforsoen difficulties. Such an exact business as this appeared to be made him suspicious. He had a revolver in his hand as he followed his companion into the house. "Go carefully," he whispered. We may be walking into a trap." "Which is the room?"

"Straight up the stairs." The door of Monica's room stood open. Some woman's apparel was thrown over a chair, and the dainty appurtenances of a woman's toilet table were revealed. She might have left the room only a moment ago. "That's his room." said Hampson, pointing to a closed door. Collier opened it quickly. They both entered, and the door was quickly closed again. Certainly it was the right room. A man's coat was lying on the bed. An armchair was drawn up close to the window, a little table beside it. There was a sharp cut in the table where the knife had fallen when Marks was shot. In a tray were some burnt matches and half-a-dozen cigarette ends. A cushion had fallen out of the chair and lay on the floor beside the footstool. The 'scent of tobacco was still in the air, not stale, but as though the smoker had just passed out. The house .was absolutely silent except for the twittering of birds under the eaves. Hampson looked at his companion, and tVn an oath broke the silence. The patient had gone. (To be continued daily.)