HELEN OF THE MOOR.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLIX, Issue 14929, 29 February 1912, Page 4

HELEN OF THE MOOR.

published Br special ARItA"KGEMEST.

BY ALICE AND CLAUDE ASKEW, Authors of " The Hraonr ''" Tho Shnlamite, Ix>re, tho Jester, Etc., Etc.

COPYRIGHT. CHAPTER VIII. They made their way, silently at first-, down tho sloping hillside. Progress was slow, for there was no path, ami the moor was strewn with loose stones. Lord. Rajnour picked his way carefully, his limping gait very evident, the great ivorv-headed stick which ho invariably carried lending full assistance. save lor this slight defect ho appeared a spruce and well-built man—young for his vcars, iuil of vitality and determination. As they walked, Philip— to put from his "mind the sorry recollection of their missionwas striving to recollect all that he had ever heard from his father, or other sources, oi this man, who from a mere acquaintance had developed into a friend. In ins voucg days the Hon C\ ril i ran * lvn —now" Lord Kaynour—had won a re- , iniwtiou fur hmiseU as a last man about unvn one Moreover, who was hampered l, v lack oi' means, but the latter dithcu ty had not apparently stood much in his wav He was sharp—unlike tho rest of his" iamilv—as. well as smart, and it was toon understood that Cyril Iranklyn took to business as naturally as no took to pleasure. He was able to live extravagantly in his London chambers, while his relatives struggled to make both ends meet upon their encumbered estate. Luck favoured him—he gambled upon tho Stock Exchange, and won—though no man could have said in what securities ho dealt ; he was reported to be interested in that company or this—though his name never appeared upon a prospectus ; it was rumoured that he had made great sums at horse-racing, though ho had never owned a racehorse of his own. The one palpable fact was that he had the command of money and was not averse to spending it. It was as Cyril Franklvn that he had purchased Wendlesham Manor after the unhappy Spencer Tarrant had sold up its contents : this he had done out of sheer friendliness and kindness of disposition, paving, in order to assist Tarrant, the ruined man, more than tho market value of the property — which charitable act he had laid the foundation of the golden opinion "which ha had won for himself in. the county. It was rumoured that he would have returned Wendlesham to Tarrant as a present- had not misfortune still further dogged tho feet of its lato owner. Having thus unexpectedly developed into a landed proprietor, Cyril Franklyn sobered down and became a model of all the proprieties. He took to himself a ■wife, the daughter of a neighbouring squire, an heiress whose wealth added enormously to his already comfortable income ; lie interested himself keenly in the welfare of his county, was bountiful In his charities, never failing to head a subscription list or patronise any local undertaking, and ho was a regular attendant on the Board of Magistrates, where his judgment was always tempered with mercy. His own tenants were devoted to him, for he was the most kindly of landlords. After the death of his brother it was feared that he would leave Dartmoor to take up his residence on his ancestral estate, but this he refused to do, urging that if he had endeared himself to tho county the county was equally dear to him, and that Devonshire was far more his home than Northumberland. Nevertheless, as was natural, duty called him frequently enough to the North, and upon, tly-.se occasions he was hardly ever accompanied by his wife, for she was an invalid, and it was not often that she was able to leavo her home His daughter Greta, however, was often in London, and went out much in society under the charge of one chaperon or another. So much of Lord Raynour's history Philip knew, and it was enough to make him congratulate himself that such a man had desired his friendship. Philip was rather prone to take violent likes and dislikes, and in the first case his liking was very apt to develop into hero worship, a condition not infrequent in big men like himself, whose gentleness of disposition is often in direct contrast to their powerful frames It was not that Philip was weak-willed; he was merely intensely good-natured, and therefore addicted to seeing qualities in others the existence of which he could not imagine in himself. There was not a feature of his face, from his crisp brown hair to his candid blue eyes, and his lipy ever ready to part in a smile, that did not betoken the man of generous disposition and easy-going temperament. He roused himself from his reflections to re;dise that Lord Raynour was discussing with Harry the events of that afternoon; to Philip it seemed strange that they could do this, bound as they were, upon so tragic a mission. For his own part, he was all agog with excitement, and it was only by violent effort that he had been able to concentrate his thoughts, ho had almost forgotten the dangerous passage of the Mire and their strange guide ; so much had happened since then and so much seemed likely to happen. The curious piece of jewellery in the blood-stained handkerchief which he had picked up close to the cromlech — these objects he had thrust away into his spacious pocket, and completely out of his mind. As for the mysterious room at 'the inn and the tragic death of its last occupant did these matter in the faco of that to which they were going. Philip felt himself personally concerned in the fate of Spencer Tarrant, for had not tho latter been his father's great friend, and had not John Arkwright spent his money and energy in tho attempt to adjust what he believed to be a grievous miscarriage of justice? It seemed a strange stroke of fate that he, Philip, should be called upon to bo witness of the last act in the sad life history of the unhappy felon. " Do you know anything about this ?trange woman, this Wild Barbara, as sho seems to be allied ?" Harry was asking, and Philip was constrained to listen to tho answer. •' I know just as much as every one so about her— no more," Raynour responded. She lias been a familiar figure upon the Moor for the last twenty years at least— sinco I have lived at Wendlesham, in fact. No one knows whence she came or how she exists. Pro- < bably she makes her home in some barrow, but I have never heard that her , lair bus been discovered. The cottagers round about give her food and clothing because they are frightened of her. They say that she leads folks astray and loses them in the Mire, but I have never believed this, arid your own experiences seem to prove the contrary. I have al- r, ways thought, her quite harmless, and I jj havo tried, in my humble way, to be ; kind to her, but .she resents any sort of s interference." e "I wonder, ' observed Harry, "that no s attempt lias been made to get her into 8 some kind of home." 6 " It, has." was the reply, "I used all * my mlhiciice to do so. At ler.st three f times the experiment was tried, but Wild j, Barbara has always contrived to escape n alter two or three days' confinement. It t wan I who got her into the home and si she hates me bitterly in consequence a Sho has shown hatred in several small a ways aggravating enough, though not v serious But, as I said, sho i, really 0 quite harmless, and since this was recog- a , nised, it was at last decided to leave her n alone. She iu just a wild thing— kind d of savage. ' c "Is she dumb ?" asked Harry. "Wo p could not get her to speak a word." r " She won't speak. That is ono of her n peculiarities. No ono has ever heard 5 her utter a word. It was thought at first ~ that sho was a foreigner, and she was j tried with every language under the sun, - but all to no purpose. Sho only made a gutteral noiso which sounded liko ' Bar- P bara'—hence her name. For myself , I think sho is English ; doctors will tell ° you that tflence is not an uncommon manifestation of certain forms of melan- n cholia. Sho is a mad woman, and she is d

tolerated by the ignorant through fear, and by everyone else because there is no evidence that she hau ever done any harm.'' Ho broke off because it was palpably no longer the time for such conversation. They had reached the little cordon of warders and police, and further progress was barred. Before them, and beyond the barrier, the "grey stones of Torren Pound loomed through the mist. A tall man, who was evidently in command, approached, shouting out to them lustily to stand back, then, as he recognised Lord Kavnour, ho saluted respectfully. '" Wo hold our man, my lord," he explained, "shut up within the Pound, It is only a matter of time. He has a gun, and I do not wish to run unnecessary risks." " I have come down to speak to him," said Raynour pleasantly, but not without a certain note of command. "The poor fellow knows- me, and will listen. I wish to induce him to give himself up quietly; he must realise that further resistance is useless. Please allow us to pass." The warder hesitated. It was evident that he did not care to oppose Lord Raynour, and also that he Mas unwillling to obey him. After a moment, however, heappeared to have found a way out of the difficulty, "If you do not show yourself by the entrance of the hut, my lord," he' said, '•you are quite safe. You can speak and bo heard without coming within range of the fellow's gun. He dare not venture a single step outside his shelter. Of course, if you can persuade him to yield we shall be glad." '• I can but try, Haynes," returned Raynour placidly. *" It is all in tho cause of humanity. Will you conduct me to tho place you refer to?I*'1 *' And so, the tall warder leading Lord Raynour and his two companions were passed through the lines of the police, and presently found themselves standing close j against the stone wall of tho prehistoric structure. Behind that wall lay a hunted creature, a man desperate and maddened, one whose life hung in the balance. Philip shuddered as he remembered this. The cold night air, tho grey mist, chilled him. A human life at stake I " Hallo, within there! Do you hear j me, my man cried Haynes;. The words j fell sharply, cutting like a knife. Then he turned to his companions and muttered : ' This i<m't tho first time I've spoke. But he won't answernever a word." "Look here - , K 26," he cried again, "We don't want to hurt you, and you've got to give in in the end, you know. You can't stay where you are for ever. Better surrender at once and throw down vour gun." "Ask him to listen to me," suggested ' Lord Raynour. i "There's a gentleman wants to speak to j you," shouted Haynes. "He just wishes i you to hear reason. You know Lord Ray- j nour—" • There came a sound from behind the wall as though tho prisoner had stirred and started.

"Are you there, Tarrant?" Raynour took a step forward. "Just listen—" He had no time to say more. At tho sound of his voice the convict had sprung like a flash from his retreat. He bounded, tail, gaunt, and horrible, round tho corner of stone that separated him from his en- j emies. He held his gun clubbed, gripped tightly by both hands, ready to strike. He had so ammunition, and the police had been befooled. A cry went up as tho convict hurled himself with deadly purpose upon Lord Raynour. And yet of all those who stood within shooting distance not one dared firethe risk of hitting the wrong man was too great. For the moment the philanthropist— who had come upon an errand of —was in deadly peril. It was Philip Arkwright who* warded off the blow intended for Lord Raynour. He was standing nearer to the threatenei man than either Harry or the prison official. It was all the work of a second. He sprang forward, intervening his huge bulk between assailant and assailed. The blow that, had been aimed with the butt-end of the gun fell heavily, but harmlessly, upon his shoulder, and then, closing in, he encircled the convict with his powerful arms. But Philip released his prisoner almost as eoon as he had secured him. Face to face they had been brought together, and as he gazed into the eyes of his captive Philip gave a loud cry, and his hands dropped to his sides. The fugitive turned and, unarmed now, fled swiftly an tho direction of Torren Mire, distant by only a few paces. A shot rang outthen another. There was no longer any danger in firing. The human quarry, with arms swinging wildly, had reached the marsh, and was apparently attempting to escape by threading a wav along the dangerous path across it. Another shot—and then a volley. It was the ■ end. A cry came from the tortured throat— a cry that was hardly kuman. The wild |; scurrying creature reeled, then leapt into the air; the next moment it had rolled over, hideously misshapen, and lay, face downward, in the soft mud of the bog, j where none could reach it, but where all I ' might watch as it was slowly swallowed beyond human aid, the prey of an insatiable maw. And of all those witnessing the tragedy, Philip, who had gazed into the stricken face, alone knew that the victim was not in truth him who was sought. For it was the eyes of Wild Barbara that had met his. and she it was who, in convict guise, had gone to her death in Torren Mire. (To 'be continued daily.)