HELEN OF THE MOOR.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLIX, Issue 14925, 24 February 1912, Page 3 (Supplement)

HELEN OF THE MOOR.

.' ' PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL AEBATCGEMENT.

' B Y ALICE AND CLAUDE ASKEW, '■ i.,»hnrs of "Tho Paignton Honour." "Tho ; ■■ AU °hnlamite,*' "Love, the Jester," : :' "" Etc., Etc. ' j

COPYRIGHT. CHAPTER I. •'I'M afraid we're in a bit of a mess, Harry. l' m sorry 1 bothered about tho •"" cromlech. It, isn't as if I were really ' keen on antiquities." Philip Arkwright, seated on a slab of granite, kicked im-. patiently at a loose stone, sending it rattling down the hill. Harry Sherard laughed and carelessly knocked the ash from his pipe. "I don't think it matters much, does it?" ho asked. "The fog can't last for ever, and if the worst comes to tho worst it isn't a now experience for me to sleep in the open." "Yon never can tell how long a fog , will last on these moors," returned the first speaker, a young man, broad of shoulder and heavy of limb. His looselycut coat and knickerbockers became him well, suited as they were to his large - frame, to his splendid bodily development. He glanced at his companion "with some concern. "It's all very well or you to talk like that.. Hairy,'' he continued, "but remember that you've been ill, and what you could do a year 1 or so ago isn't quite so feasible to-day. • You're under my charge, you know, and that's why Ira blaming myself." "Don't do that." Harry shrugged his v shoulders. " I was just mi keen to find i, the cromlech as you, Philip. 1 believe -"• it was I who suggested it. first." ' He refilled his pipe and smoked calmly. Though not endowed with the fine physique of his friend Harry Sherard / was blessed with an evenness of disposi- ; i tion, a placid disregard of difficulties, -that had stood him in good stead on more than one occasion. This was not apparent upon the ourfac?, for he was slight ;■- "and almost effeminate of figure, foppish ,in his clothes, and his features were small and delicate. His fair lair was 5 always conscientiously parted in tho middle am: his bluo eyes were aoft and winning. The only indication of firmness of character was in his voice, which had a 'peculiarly decisive ring in spite of its r r.stive sweetness; though perhaps a keen observer of Harry and his friend might have wondered thai the weaker of the two should affect a pipe while Philip Arkwright, burly as he was, should i be a victim to the cigarette habit. Having noticed this tho observer afore//said might be less surprised to learn that Philip was of the city, partner with his '< father in the long-established firm of 1 h > .Arkwright and Son, while Harry, though *i amply provided with this world's goods, if had chosen journalism for his profession, H and, as war correspondent, had already witnessed several campaigns. Wherever there was a disturbance there Harry Sherard elected to go, combining, where possible, professional duties with active ■'-.'■ participation in the fighting. A commis- ''/ r sion in the army had been offered him, but he loved the life of a free lance too well to accept it, nor did he ever speak of the Victoria Cross with which he had been presented for an act of signal bravery, whereby he had saved life at tho cost of his own health and strength. He was, even row, only just convalescent from a serious illness which had attacked him while staying with the Ark- " wright family at Wimbledon, and he had signalised his recovery by becoming engaged to Philip's sister, Dora, who had only recently returned to England from her Paris school. Harry, who had last - seen her as a small girl in short frocks, was immediately captivated by the demure damsel, too inexperienced to hide her own admiration for him, and so matters had been very quickly settled between them. But Harry's health still , left a good deal to be desired, hence the very natural anxiety of Philip Arkwright on his behalf, Philip, whoso love and admiration for his friend and future >;■ brother-in-law were unbounded. The two young men had come to Dartmoor for a holiday, since the air of the moors had beer. recommended by Harry's doctor, • even though it was yet early in the season for the high ground of Devonshire. V " But you'll be there before the tourists," so the doctor had said. " and I cam tell you that there's no more beautiful month than early May upon the Tors. Take plenty of exercise— / fish, explorebut beware of the mists, .and don't be out late of night" "I'll trust mvself to Arkwright," Harry had responded with a cmile. I'll put myself into his hands. He knows Dartmoor well, so he won't let me get / into mischief." ";/ . Philip had accepted tho responsibility, and now this was the result. They were / • lost on the side of a hill of which they did not even know tho name. A fog had arisen and enveloped them, and though they wero possessed of a compass it was / of small use, since they had already dis- . covered that tho grounds in the direction 1 , fn which they wished to go appeared marshy and unsafe. Philip knew well enough that a Dartmoor bog is by no means to be despised. It was all his faulthis. So he told ';« himself as he sat there, kicking at tho • , loose stones, safo enough on the incline '. of the Tor, but uncomfortably conscious that any advance must be attended by ,/,. greater risk than ho daro venture upon. .\ Yet the road lay there, in front of them — he was quite sure of that— tho marshy ■ bed of a river or a bog pure and / simple lay between. They had left the road earlier in the afternoon, tempted by the beauty of tho sky, by the heather, "and by their mutual desire to find and explore a peculiar crom- "' lech, one of the neolithic remains with .. which the moor abounds, the existence of •which had been mentioned to them by ~ the landlord of the inn at Princetown >[~ the preceding night. They were on their way to Lydford, ; ■which they had from the first proposed to make their centre. They had spent a / few days at Plymouth, and then, having ' . ■ sent on their luggage, had mounted to ;./• Princetown by the "little climbing railway. From hero it had seemed no dif- ..-■'. ficult task to cross tho moor on foot. Nor would it have been so bad had they not , ventured too far from the beaten track, ' and thus, at tho very outset of their holiday, encountered the* danger of which they had been so particularly warned. "How phlegmatic you are, Harry," cried Philip, with some impatience. "I believe '■"- you are quite content to. sit there and V .emoke until the fog clears off." "What's the use of worrying?" returned . the other with a light laugh. " I'm really quite well and strong again now, Philip, and not likely to come to any hurt. We ■>~ simply can't go on "—he glanced ruefully at his wet and mud-bespattered boots as , ne spoke"for we neither of us have any Wish to go floundering into a bog. And / a « for retracing our steps', that's just as impossible, for we might wander Heaven ;. knows v here, and get more hopelessly lost ' than wt are at present. The only "thing /./;. w e can do is to try and circle tho bog, and per laps we may find ourselves upon ■ the .roa.l before we "expect it. We can't be very iar from Lvdford as it is." •'*■ m' . ,°>' growled Philip. "If I'm not - ™. s -~:en, we must be somewhere in the '~ neighbourhood of Taw Cleave, and now -■ that I come to think of it I remem- "'/ \ ber hearing of a bog that lies out in this affection and no great distance from the ,' ~ road." b {J^ a consult a map which ho ''row irom one of his capacious pockets and ..... «pread out, before him. "This is where | * think we must be." he muttered, "and. 11 *°« if ß certain that tho road can't be ver y far away. See. here it is, and there's *«.'• ran marked at just about the spot Mla^S wo should strike it. But, of course, .'■-''' \ . '. i

wo can't bo sure of anything in this fog, and it's no U3O depending on a map or anything else. So there's nothing for it but to do as you suggest, and the sooner wo move on the better." Accordingly they advanced a few paces; but it was only to find that the ground at their feet became more uncertain even as the fog grew denser, and presently, after Philip had found a stone, which seemed to offer a certain foothold, givo way beneath him, they both came to a halt, onco more.

"It's no good," said Harry, laughing a little at hie friend's woebegone face. "Hero we've got to stay, and we'd better decide to make the best of it. I wonder if there's any tort of shelter on the lor. It would bo a new experience, now, to sleep in a dolmen, and I really don't think 1 should regret, the experience. Just imagine what one's dreams might be!" '' Can't say I fancy it myself," replied Philip, "though I suppose it would bo better than wandering about in this beastly fog. Jove, how thick it gets! Why, ono might bo in London!" Iho fog, ir-deed, seemed to bo growing more dense, lying like a damp white curtain over hill and valley. It was as though the landscape which had charmed the eyes of the young men that afternon had been completely swept away, as if shape and colour and life had" been obliterated. Whichever way they turned thero was nothing but a dead monotony of mistv whiteness. Even Harry's spirits failed him after a time. "It's liko a pall," ho said. "Doesn't it seem strange that though wo ran seo nothing it's hero just the same? Tho grass and the heather, the great granite slabs on tho hillside, the furze bushes everything. Why, it's only an hour ago that we were enjoying tho"view from the top of the Tor. with plenty of time before us, and tho prospect of a "comfortable bed to sleep in to-night. But now there's no view, and no bed either for the matter of that. It's no use giving a hollo, I suppose?" Even to himself it semed a futile suggestion. Lost in such a fog on tho borders of a Dartmoor marsh, who was to hear their voices, however loudly thev might call? "Not much," replied tho other man, standing up, a dim figure, pretornaturally huge, by the side of his companion, "but anything's worth trying in this sort of fix. We may be nearer the road than we expect. I'll eing out— can make my voice carry when I like."

He could. His voice, liko himself, was large. "Hollo!" he shouted, and then again. "Hollo!" A curious echo responded, an echo that attested to the presence of the invisible hills. Harry laughed, for there was something startling, almost uncanny in the sound— silence that preceded it had been so intense. Ho could fancy that the ghosts of savage primitive men wero abroad, unseen for the veil of mist, but mocking and threatening as they marshalled in fantastic array. Harry was not superstitious therefore he laughed—but ho did not lack imagination. "I can picture them trooping down the hillside behind us"—he was communicating his impressions to his friend—" these barrows and dolmens might well be giving forth their dead. I've often heard —"

" Oh, shut up, there' a good fellow," interrupted Philip, who was endowed with more superstition and lese imagination than his companion. " We're comfortable enough without ghosts. I'll give another call."

He raised his hands to his lips preparatory to another stentorian cry. But suddenly his arms fell to his sides and the shout was strangled to silence. He stood staring before him, and his teeth came together with a snap. " What?" he gasped, " what?" Then he seized his friend by the arm, jerking him violently round. "Look, Harry, look!" he muttered.

Harry looked and saw. It was no delusion of the senses. To Philip it had seemed that a column of mist, of vapour, had solidified into a human figure standing upon what he knew to be marshy ground. Harry saw only the figure, but there was that about the apparition that caused him to givo utterance to a low whistle and to mutter. "By jove!" beneath his breath. CHAPTER H. The ghosts <f primitive folk —men and women of the Stone Age— been in the mind of Harry. Here, almost afi ho had spoken his thoughts, was such a spirit incarnateor was it no more than a wraith of tho mist, an unsubstantial and ehadowy thing? He took a step forward, though Philip still clutched nervously at his arm. Was it merely an effect of mirage, and would it vanish as he advanced?

The apparition remained stationary, dimly, fantastically visible through the haze.* • It was the figure of a woman, and to judge from the strands of thin hair that hung loosely about the wizened face, of an old woman —perhaps as old as tho very hills themselves. Her head was uncovered, as also her shrivelled neck and arms; sho appeared to wear but one garment, a rough ; coarse covering, greyishwhite" as the mist, that fell loosely from her shoulders to her bare feet. She made no sound, though her toothless jaws worked to and fro, and her eyes, from under their heavy brows, were fixed upon the two young men. "WhJit is it, Harry? I—l don't mind anything human—" , Harry swung himself loose from his friend's grip. " A woman, of course, what else? I'll sneak to her." She's no living thing. I tell you she fashioned of the mist. I saw." In spito of himself, Philip's teeth chattered together. He was not lacking in courage, but his life had been peculiarly ordered and undisturbed by adventure or strong emotions. He had never been called upon to face the unexpected. _ '•Nonsense-! Anyone coming through the fog might give that impression. It's all right—you'll see." " Why doesn't she speak, then That was the question that puzzled Harry. Whv did she not speak? She stood" before 'them, tall and gaunt, mouthing and grimacing, yet no sound appeared to pass her lips. But she had lifted a lean arm, and was pointing across the ' marsh. Harry advanced a few paces, though his feet sank into slimy ooze. It was as if tho mysterious visitant was standing upon ground that would support no human foot. For a moment a thrill of superstitious dread affected even him. He halted, and cried, "Can you help us out of this? Are we anywhere near the road?" There was no response. He thought the woman gibed at him, for her face, as he saw it, 'was revolting in its lack of human expression. The lips that mouthed inaudible speech—how thin and bloodless thev were; and her eyes— they eves ho looked into or hollow cavernous depths? But her arm still pointed across the bog, and now, with the other hand, she was beckoning ; he could hear the creaking of her long, bony fingers as they rubbed against each other in the gesSo'mehow the sound restored his confiSomehow the sound restored his confidence No ghostly fingers could accomplish this. "Ho you want us to follow you?" he asked, his voice loud and imperative. , Again no answer save an inclination of the dishevelled head. The woman had heard and understood, even if she herself were voiceless. Harry turned to his friend, whO ( had remained several paces behind. ~ She wants us to follow her, Phil," he said. _ Philip advanced cautiously and with hesitation. He was a heavy man and his. feet sank deep into the mire. " To follow her!" he repeated. "Into the middle of the bog? It would be madness." "It must be solid where she is standing. It must." Harry made tho assertion forcibly as though to convince himself "The "woman evidently knows of a path across the bog and wishes to chow us the ""Why doesn't she speak?" Philip's original fears came crowding into his brain once more, enhanced perhaps by a nearer view of the weird figure of the marsh. _ To him she was still an unsubstantial thing, a product of the mist. "You mustn t go Harry he implored ; " we are safe upon dry ground here, but God knows to what this creature may lead us—most probably to our death." Vague recollections of Will o' the wisps and Fata Morganas were in his mind, but ho had no time for connected thought. "Don't worrv about the supernatural, old chap," said Harry, quickly but im-

pressively. " I assure you there's nothing of that sort here, though I admit it was a bit startling at first. The old lady either can't or won't speak, but she evidently heard your shout and so tame to the rescue. I 'believe she'll lead us across the bog. Anyway, I'm going to try. If the ground will bear her weight it will bear mine too. Now, don't you move till, you see me standing by her side ; if I get there all right come on as quick as you like. Ho did not wait to reply to any further remonstrance from his friend, but strode rapidly forward. It needed some dozen paces to reach the spot where, woman awaited him, and these, though at every step his foot sank ankle deep in mud. were quickly traversed. It was as he thought, she stood upon solid ground. His first impulse was to turn and summon Philip. 'It's all tight, Phil," ho cried. "There's a path here. Hurry up." Then he turned to thank their mysterious benefactress. "I say," he said with something of the boyish enthusiasm that lent such charm to his manner, " it was awfully good of ycu to come to our help. I suppose you heard my friend shouting. He made enough noise, in all conscience."

The woman had receded a few steps. It was as if she did not wish to be too closely approached. But she paused now as though listening, and because it was necessary to allow time for the other man to traverse the little strip of spongy turf. She half-turned her head, her jaws moved, but no sound came from them ; then she raised her hand and pointed a bony finger at her mouth. Harry understood at last; the woman was dumb. He whispered his discovery to Philip, who had reached his side by now, and who appeared not a little abashed and ashamed by his fears. "I deserve to bo whipped for a coward, Harry," he muttered mournfully. " I thought I should show better pluck ; but this is the first time, and I have failed." There was something pathetic in the humiliation of tho big man before his smaller and weaker friend, and Harry hastened to sav what reassuring words he might. " Whv, I lost my head too," ho comforted; "I" assure you I did for a minute. The fear of something supernatural is a different thing altogether to tho fear of the tangible. You'll be all right next time you have any danger to face, I reckon." He spoko confidently, with the voico of prophecy. They were following their guide now, picking their way very carefully along what was evidently a narrow track across the very centre of tho bog. It was not an easy path, and ono which no man unaided could have traced out for himself; of this there was constant evidence when one or other of the two men would slip or stumble, sinking sometimes up to his knees, a careless step having carried him from security. Now and again a sharp gesture from their uncanny leader, half turning for the purpose, would indicate a point of danger or warn them to fall back into single file. And around them was dense fog, fog that obliterated from view everything but that which was in their immediate vicinity. They might have been wading, like divers, at the bottom of the sea like divers, too, all their .movements seemed strangely exaggerated; thero was a curious jerk of the knee as they walked and they threw out their arms before them as though groping m the darkness. At last, after what appeared an interminable time, they found more solid foothold to either side of them, and they appeared to be mounting a slight incline. Harry, who was leading, turned to his friend. * " I fancy we've crossed the bog, he said, all thanks be to our mysterious guide He raised his hand to Ins eyes, for he could dimly discern through the mist the outline of some structure, rock or stone, perhaps, or perhaps the wall of some habitation built on tho very border of the marsh. At that moment Philip stumbled upon a loose atone and fell, swearing roundly beneath his breath. Harry turned to lend him a hand, assistance which was, how ever, hardly necessary, for Philip had quickly scrambled to his feet. But when the two young men etood side by side they realised that the strange woman who had led them to safety had disappeared as mysteriously as she had comer the tog had swallowed even as it had disgorged her. „ ... , „ _ "A rummy go." Philip muttered, "a queer thing "altogether. But here wo are across the bog, and if our calculations are correct tho road should not be far a way. I expect it must be near and that a why our guide has deserted us. See, Harry, isn't this a path, and what that shadow looming in front of us? It looks like tho walls of a house." On closer inspection the shadow turned out to bo not a house as they had fondly hoped, but one of the neolithic stone buildings surrounded by a circle of granite slabs such as that in tho search of which they had lost their way. This one, however was in the shape of a hut rather than of a barrow, and 'it boasted some semblance of a loof. Harry gave vent to a grunt of disappointment when no realised this, but Philip cried exultingly: " Don't worrv, old chap, its all right, and wo sha n't 'have to spend tho night m the open. This is Torreu Pound—it a marked on mv map, and the road passes only a hundred yards or so away from it The inn of which I told you can tbe vary far off either. Look here —he pointed triumphantly to an obvious track that led to the entrance of the " Pound — "here's the oath so we can't go wrong. Hullo— this 7 " , . , , Suddenly he stocped and picked up an object that his sharp eyes had caught sight of lying at his feet. Harry approached and glanced over his friend shoulder. . , , "Looks as if our guide had dropped something belonging to her," he opined, as Philip proceeded to unwrap the small article from its covering, allowing the latter to drop to tho ground. "What is "Nothing of any value, I fancy," Philip was making careful examination of his find turning it over and over, scrutinising it closely. " Just a piece of cheap jewellery. The stone is an imitation turquoise, but'the setting seems to bo of gold." "Poor woman," said Harry, sympathetically, "sh.e may have valued it—if it belonged to her. But, of course, it may have been dropped here by someone- else, since, I take it. lots of tourists may visit these' stones." He stooped, as he spoke, and picked up the piece of white linen in which the brooch had been wrapped. It proved to bo a handkerchief of fine texture and make. "Of coure, it may be nothing, he remarked after ho had examined this, but it's curious, Phil —

"What?" Harry held out the handkerchief. "One can seo nothing clearly in this infernal light," he said, "but what do you make of those stains? To mo they look like blood." CHAPTER HI. "Thank heaven, the inn!" cried Philip exultingly as, after some twenty minutes' tramp along the high road, laboriously gained, a spectral mass with yellow gleaming eyes loomed through the fog. " Now, if only we had a change of clothing theic'd be nothing more to complain of." " Perhaps our worthy host will be able to oblige us," suggested Harry, glancing ruefully at his mud-encrusted boots and soiled "gaiters. "No doubt others have como to him in the same plight before now. By tha way, how far aro we from Lvdford?" '" Judging from the map I should say a good four miles. You see," added Philip, apologetically we seem to have gone quite astray during our wanderings on the moor. You mustn't trust to me again as a guide after this experience, Harry." "Tho fog wasn't your fault," laughed the other ; " and taking it altogether, the experience hasn't been uninteresting. I wonder what time it is." With some difficulty ho was able to ascertain that it was just eight o'clock. "Well," he went on, " there's one thing of which I'm very certain. We are not going to walk another four miles in this fog. Dinner and bed is the programme as I see it. Tomorrow will be time enough for Lydford." To which sentiment Philip cordially agreed. And so, having reached the inn. low, straggling building, a little way off tho road, that bore the sign of tho Running Horse, the two young men penetrated into a narrow hall, at one side of which was a shuttered window commtmi-

eating with a bar in the adjoining room. From within came the sound of voices and the cheerful clattering of glasses. "It seems to me that we're not tho onlv fog-bound travellers," remarked Philip, his broad forehead wrinkling. I say, it'll be jolly awkward, won't it, it there's no accommodation to be had. Didn't you notice that they seemed busy in the stables, too?" Harry nodded, then he rapped upon the shutter" with his knuckle. Presently a darkbearded, dark-browed man appeared in answer to the .summons, throwing up the shutter and taking stock of the new arrivals through tho trap. The hall was in semidarkness, but the room beyond was brightly lit; tho man's face, seen thus, was hardly prepossessing. "I'm sorry," ho said, when Philip, as spokesman, had stated his requirements. "I haven't a spare bed in the house. There's not much room at the best of times, and just now— "Oh, but can't you fix us up somehow.'' interrupted Philip, vaguely incensed at the inhospitalitv of the welcome. "We arewet through—been in difficulties on the moor—and can't possibly get on to Lydford in this state. I asruro you we are not particular as to the accommodation. The man stared at them from under his heavy brows, thsn his voice softened a little. "You do seem to have got yourselves into a mess,' ho observed. " Missed vour way pxi tho moor, I suppose. It hot particular safe to do that about hero in a fog, what with Torren Mire and Ardley Quarry—and to-night above —" ""Wo have crossed Torren Mire," put in Harry quickly. Tho innkeper uttered a low and incredulous whistleit was a way ho had, and ho contrived to express many emotions thereby. "You couldn't do it," he remarked laconically. " Thero are none but a few of tho country folk around who know tho way, and it'a "death to miss your footing—no less than that. The number of moorland ponies I've seen go down — you've no idea. And they squeal when they get caught, poor beasts can hear them now and again even from here." Tho man paused, feeling perhaps that lie was entering into a discussion with those to whom ho had just refused a favour. These sudden pauses were another peculiarity of hie. " Nevertheless, wo have crossed the Mire," rejoined Harry. "We were guided by a strange-looking old woman, who semed to bo dumb, or who, at any rate, refused to speak. We couldn't havo done it alone, of course. Look at our clothes — wo should liko an opportunity of drying them—besides, we want food and rest."

"Como into the bar-parlour," said the man, with awakened interest. "If what you say is truo you've been with your lives in your hands. You've met wild Barbara, as we call her, and she don't always lead folk straight. Come in and I'll see what I can do.' 5 Ho motioned them to tho door, and a minute later they found themselves in a low, smoke-begrimed room, with sanded floor and a long deal table, stained and discoloured with age, drawn up against the further wall. At this table sat four men, who had evidently just completed a rough-and-ready meal; two of them wore the uniform of warders from tho great Princetown Prison, and their guns rested near at hand against the bench; the other two were civilians, and appeared to be friends of the landlord. The latter was behind the bar, his elbows resting upon it, and he semed to be listening with interest to tho conversation in progress.

"There's a convict got away," he explained to tho two travellers when they had drawn up to the bur, " and these chape are on the track. He's been out two days and is supposed to bo hiding somewhere down by the bog. I wonder you've not heard of it. If you'd come from Princetown they'd havo warned you to keep to the road."

"Wo did como from Princetown, and they did warn us," responded Philip, " but we saw no reason to change our plans." Ho stretched out his huge arms and laughed. "A wretched convict!" Then ho glanced at the warders. " Poor devil he added under his breath.

" They'll shoot him at sight, and a good job too." The words were spoken with marked emphasis by the innkeeper, and were accompanied by a sharp glance in the direction of the warders. "I don't want any of these gentry hanging about a respectable inn. But, of course, there's not much to be done to-night-" he went on, "and the Princetown men aro hung up till the fog clears. They'll catch him right enough in tho end, for no one ever gels clean away from Princetown, though manyhave tried tho trick?"

"What was the convict, like?" asked Harry with interest. "What was ho in for?"

Tho innkeeper shrugged his shoulders. " They only speak of him by a letter and a number; but I can tell you a bit moro than that. His name's Tarrant, and he was by way of being a gentleman. The Tarranls havo been landowners here for generations; they owned Wendlesham Manor, which is about a milo down the road towards Lydford. This chap is the last of the family. He camo to smash somo 20 years ago and was sold up. Then he got into still worse trouble—half-killed a man — they gave him a life sentence. Tho warders say he is a quiet and inoffensive fellow enough, and it seems queer that he should have made a bolt when ho might soon havo been let out. They think that he's hanging about here, because it's close to his old home."

Philip had been listening to this bale, ! a puzzled look upon his face. It was as i though ho were struggling with his memory. At last he voiced his reflections. "I thought the name of Tarrant was familiar to me," ho said, "and no doubt if I'd read tho papers this morning I should havo. recalled tho whole thing." Ho was addressing Harry rather than their host. " Spencer Tarrant was once a great friend of my father. They were boys at school together. My father has stayed at Wendlesham over and over again when he was a young man ; I have often heard him mention the place. It was bought up by Lord*Raynour afterwardsyou've, met him in society, I know, and his daughter, Greta Franklyn was to be at the Kentards' ball, to which Dora was invited. But about Tarrantit wasn't his fault that he lost his money — least, it was only brought about by foolish speculation. Ho fell into the hands of folk who gave him bad advice. You have met Pierce Ruthvcn? man whom society has accepted though no one knows anything about him or how he has accumulated his fortune. Well, Ruthven wasn't so well known then as he is now, and my father says that it was he who involved this unfortunate man in difficulties, and then left him to bear the brunt of tho consequent proceedings. I don't remember the particulars, but, of course, Ruthven was clever enough to steer clear of the law, which accordingly swept down on the wretched scapegoat. I don't doubt that Tarrant was guilty, for folly is no excuse in the eyes of justice, but Ruthven should have been in the dock by his side. Instead of which he had worked himself up till he is received at the best houses. Why, I know that he was invited to Lady Ke'ntard's ball, but I have an idea that he wasn't going. However, I dare say we shall hear all about it when we get to Lydford, for Dora is bound to have writtenand the ball was to have taken place three days ago. Dora Arkwright, as her brother well knew, had accepted an invitation from the recently-married Lady Kentard, a school friend of hers, to stay a few days at the town r*f>iso of tho Earl of Bridgetown, I.ord'*.<.jtard's father, where a ball was to be fr/j?}n in honour of the young bride. Dora li;r*i accepted with some diffidence, for she was of a retiring nature and far happier in her own quiet home at Wimbledon than she was likely to be attending a big society function. But John Arkwright had judged it expedient that tho friendship should be maintained, and so she had set out upon her visit about the same time that the two young men had taken their departure for' Devonshire. Neither her brother nor her lever had heard from her since, but this was not to be wondered at since they had gi«m no address to anyone save that at Lydford, which they had decided to make their headquarters. "Father wasn't pleased when ho heard that Ruthven might be of the house party," Philip concluded, "but it was too 'late, for Dora had already accepted. The dad is a good hater, and Pierce Ruthven is by way of being his special bete noire."

During the progress of this conversation the innkeeper had been busying himself making arrangements for the comfort

of his guests. There was not much that ho could do, so it appeared ; a makeshift of dry clothes and a frugal dinner— was no bedroom to be offered them, since tho only _ spare sleeping apartment was already disposed of. _" I've got Lord Raynour spending the night here," he explained with some pride. " Lord Raynour is the present owner of Wendlesham Manor, you know. He bought the property _ when Tarrant smashed up. He was driving home from Princetown, but his carriage met with an accident in tho fog, so he was obliged to put in here. The fog's clearing off a bit now, eo I've just offered to send him on in my own cart, bub he says he would sooner stay. He wants to know what happens about the convict, I guess. I've sent a boy to the manor with a message. But.what I was about to suggest is this: His lordship has had his dinner served in the parlour, and I suppose ho will stay there till he goes to bed ; after that you may have the room, and welcome. There's a sofa and a fire, and I can find you some blankets."

That's good." cried Harry enthusiastically, "and what's more I'm" quite certain Lord Raynour will not object to the arrangement," For as it happens both my friend and I know him quite well. We seem to have fallen among friends. Perhaps you will vory kindly take him our cards, and as soon as we havo got into some dry clothes we might see him." "Very well, sir." The man spoke with increased respect, and seemed anxious to atono by his manner for his surly reception of the travellers. "I'll do my best to fix you up comfortable." " Dry stockings and slippers will be as much as we shall need," laughed Philip, as he and his friend followed their host from tho room and up a narrow night of wooden stairs. " You'd find it difficult to fit me with anything else." Upon tho first floor they passed a bedroom, the door of which stood partly open. It was evidently the best room in the house, and the furniture, as the young man noticed from a casual glance, was far superior to anything they would have expeeled in so '•limbic an inn. A large fourposter bed of antique appearance was the most prominent object. "Lord Raynours room, I presume?" asked Harry casually. The innkeeper closed the door, as if irritated to find that it had been left open. "No," he replied curtly, "that room isn't occupied by anyone—and isn't likely to be cither." (To be continued.) [Another instalment of this very interesting story will bo given in these columns on Monday next. The story will bo continued daily until its completion.]