THIS WOMAN TO THIS MAN.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LIII, Issue 16169, 4 March 1916, Page 3 (Supplement)

THIS WOMAN TO THIS MAN.

BY C. N. AND A. M. WILLIAMSON. Authors of "The Lightning Conductor," < '.'The Car of Destiny," " The Golden Silence,"" "The /Princess Passes," etc., etc. ; y

'\l ""'" COPYRIGHT. .'' .', "... . :.■■■...• SYNOI'SIS. ? ' : .''■ CHAPTER 1.-Mary Grcenloaf,-on the threshold of , her first adventure; hesitates whothor to slop . forward or to .'• retreat. A sttoet skirmish, in which she might becomo involved, causes her to decide on the torword movement. She enters the Savoy Hotel alone,; One man, also alono, takes note Of the mil's nlendor figure and beautiful race, Wf Ills e-yo dwells on the white .'rose, healwnj nt her bosom. As sho fails to encounter the man whom she expected ito meot she asks- a waiter to show her the table ehfcagod by Mr. N. Smith. The man knows of no such person, but places her at a table J?'jL for two, where sho can sec Mr. K. Wil« as 800 " as he enters ltno room. A tall-dark man comos in, makes straight for her. table, bcftrinK.her in a low voice to appear to know, him, as thereby sho may save ms life. Mary accedes at' once. He n.iks .1161! to preteliu to be his wife. Sho stives her name, address, and states that she is not married. She also says lie roust be Mr N. Smith., and takes hoi' while rose away from her 5 , '•, Later-ho asks her for it. From the first the is 1 -at homo with this man, «nd layi.hiro her,family hitlqry. Two men outer, and the hunted man begs Mary to act up to the opcSsioti, and ho adopts thonamo of vit<\\ mat as the strangers wo approachins them. \ CHAPTER 11.-fCohtiniied.l "Mb. Michael Muikovf, I believe!", Mary heard a thick voice say, close to Iter shoulder. Sho looked up into- tho face of a man who might bo ii Russian .lew. though ho spoke English like on Englishman, or. perhaps /rather more like an American, "I hopo tho lady will excuse me, but—""You're making a mistake," calmly broke in her companion. "My name is Nelson Smith. We have never met." "Oh, really!" exclaimed 'the other, " You waul to play ajoko on me. Smith is a good name to choose. It gives you such a nice, large family."

"What does he mean, Nelson Mary heard herself asking. Then she frowned at the bearded face, and into the bright beads of eyes, fixing hers, intently. "Smith is tho name. I never heard that other." . Something like doubt or dismay changed the big man's expression. "I beg your pardon," lie said, still staring. " I don't want to interrupt a pleasant little dinnerparty if— I don't think I can be mistaken. You tell me"— spoke this time to the girl— tell mo he is Mr. SmitH? And you, madam, you say you are Mrs. Smith, his wife "I do say so," she answered steadily. "But I don't see what right you have to ask. We don't know you. My-husband doesn't know you." . " I'm not sure yet, If he dpesn t it s' a wonderfully strong resemblance Pcoplo have been arrested for lets-in certain circumstances sent away to a country not so free as this." Look here,. if you annoy me and my wifo further, I shall be obliged to send for the manager, and you'll be turned out," said Nelson Smith. "You are offensive. But this is not the place for. a scene."/ " I do not wish to make one," said the other. "That is the reason I came over here to speak with you quietly. You know very well I can' have you arrested any minute— you are the man I believe you to be.". . ,' ' V ;- ,; , •. "But as I'm not, I don't know anything about it. Go away, and ask the head waiter, if you like, in whose name this table was engaged-bv .my wife. "I have already asked. Ho, told me 'Smith.' But .anyone pan engage a table in the name of Smith.".. •-,.,'• " It seems to me, if I wanted a nom de guerre, I'd take 0110, loss obvious. Are you going, or, must I-7".., .■.-„< "I'll fio back to my table. ,But this is not the last. of me, 'Mr. Nelson Smith. I am.not a man easy to get rid of, when I have been twrbijged. Your . double has reason to know that.".-., ''~- , .• \,. v 1 "I think ho must be.mad!" said Mary. "Nelson, : lot us' not , take anymore . notice of. him, ; but go-on 'eating our dinner. Will you give me a piece of your toast? Mine's all gone," ' ;" ';-';!' '?

The big.man the black 'beard shrugged ; his shouderg,'-.; and,.after -Hesitating an instant, returned i to the table where his friend brother—sat.' '■~':'yi'. ; ; "You --. were splendid!" < murmured • Neb son, Smith, or Michael Melikoff. . VI can't thank you enough, llfi I had all my life to thank you in, instead of minutes, I couldn't do it. You had the exact air of a Mrs. Smith. , Nobody could have ' believed you to; bo anything else." . They both laughed; and it seemed.very strange' that they- could laugh. .Yet Mary laughed again when he told her that she would have made a* good actress'}. she, who had hardly ever been to the .theatre! , She was glad and'sorry: at the tame time when they had finished their dinner, VShall.we go?" she asked; but the man whose Was Smilhj or ( 'Melikoff, * said no, they would have coffee in tho hall. ■ There was time, still. He would, not make her late at home; but those men mustn't think they had frightened him away. .after "Mr. and Mrs. Smith" had goho.to sit on tho very sofa where a man had sat earlier, looking at Mary GrOenleaf over a-flows-paper, the two bearded men followed. They also took coffee, and smoked very long, slender cigars. But befuro they.had finished, Mr. N. Smith said, in a voice: loud enough for them to hoar,; " Now I think we had belter lie going honi* "

Five minutes later Mary, wrapped 61100 more in her red cloak, was being helped into a taxi; and as her companion' stepped in beside her, the followers were .pawing through the revolving door. Evidently they did not mind their object being not only suspected, ibiit actually known. "They'll keep close behind us," Mr. Smith paid, "and not. give mo lime to fool them" That is whai'o yon are goim* to save mc again. There's no houto in London where I have a right to enter as if it belonged to me; but you are lending me a shelter.' For the first time Mary noticed that lie did not talk quite like an Englishman. The real Mr, Smith, from New Ybtk, who was her .employer's friend, had' an accent rather like this. .. • .

"If only Mrs. Ellsworth doesn't come out of her room!" Mary murmured, ns the taxi rushed them nearer to Torririgton Square. ," . "If flie does, it will make trouble for you?" asked the man. • "I don't know. And I don't care)" the girl answered "\ recklessly. It, was

glorious to bo reckless. But she could never go back to being her old self after to-night. ,

"1 care a great deal Site must be a dreadful old woman, and you ought not to bo /her mercy. But— Greenleaf, I wonder if it matters at' all to you that iwe are soon to part ? To mo, it seems impossible. I dont want to Jot you go, because I know'thai you are the best thing that has ever como into my life."

"You— know mo!" faltered Mary. " I believe I do knew you, better than you have ever known yourself. Do I seem quite a stranger to you?"

".No—after what has happened—after what we've gone through I can't feel that you're a stranger." The fact is, we blow little or nothing of each other's tastes, But wo know something of each other's souls. If I tell you that I've never murdered anyone, or committed any unforgivable crime, will you believe me?"

" If you told me you were a murderer, or had committed an unforgivable crime, don't think I could believe you," . the girl stammered out. "I—it would hurt me very much, somehow, to believe evil of you." ~ ...- s " I should like," said the man, " to take your hand when I thank you for saying that. But I won't, because you're alone with me, and to do me good you have put yourself in my power. -I'd rather die than abuse it. And if I were more evil than I am, I should want to be good, to deserve your'faith. Even wanting to be good is part of the great battle, isn't it? And I don't call myself a 'bad man." and my people have been greatly injured.. I have tried to pay back the injury. That's the worst , of- me, I swear it." ;,.--,: - ■ '."'..'■■'

"You hardly .need to tell me that," Slarv almost whispered. ;._,. ; i-., i "T had to tell you, because,of a question I'm going' tti ask. Do you think there can ; be such a thing as love at first sight?" "I don't, know. Books say. so. Perhaps-" • '-. • ': ~.,-•;,:''' .'.: i : ,\ i :.y.There's no perhaps. And: if no book had evei* said so, it would, be true. I've learned that it's true, to-night. I've seen the one woman in the, -world-for me—my ■helpmate; Will you ; marry me, if ; I cbiiie. out of ; to-night's /danger,': arid!. can" ask ii woman : to take her.place;at my side!"

"Oh, you are :.aaying this;,because you■ think you f have to, be grateful!" cried Mary. "But I don't want gratitude. I don't even deserve it, - This. is the first time I've ever lived. I owe that to you. And it's, more than -you can possibly owe to. me." -.. 'V. X .: ■>'■■ ',-:' "," ' <■• ■■!•' You know little indeed about men, if yoii think I'm of the type who would, tie himself to a woman for gratitude's sake. I love you.' 1 " 5 - V " l ' ~'- " : '' ; "How Wonderful!" the girl whispered. '■A man like you! And I— ■•'"' -.'■« '; '"A mail like me?' What am I like?" "You ,; seem to me—brave—and—and more interesting than anyone—l ever Saw-, I .' • ,','. . ■ -....'.. •..-..- , " Then, do you want to part from me for ever,, after you've-sheltered mo for a little while from danger, and send mo away, bidding me God speed?" • "Not And yet—" v " You might have consented to marry that other man who called himself Smith, if you had met him, and hadn't found him loathsome." ''I thought I might. Now I see that I never could." "Why?" "Because—he wasn't you." ■ Forgetting his resolution, he caught her hands, ami. kissed them. "If I am free to ask you—if I escape— you let me beg you" again to be my wife?" "If I can escape, to hear you. It seems— marvellous ever to .come true. You don't know what Mrs. Ellsworth is." ' "St.,Gedrge rescued the princess from tho dragon. I'm 110 saint, but I'll rescue you from Mrs. Ellsworth. Trust me a little! My real name is—" The' t?:x'i stopped. The chauffeur had drawn up at the pavement in front of 22a, i Torri-ngtbn Square. Sure that another was not far behind, Mary's l\iart loaped. Sho ioigot that her companion was leaving all important communication about himself unfinished. And.after all, what did the name matter? He opened the cab door, and jumped out. As sho put her hand into his, to descend, the latch-key Mrs. Ells* worth-had lent her was in it. "Take tuts," she whispered v hastily. "If they nro watching, it Mill be better for you than for mo to have the key." Her companion paid tho chauffeur generously, and got a loud, cheerful "Thank

you, sir!" which perhaps reached the ears of another chauffeur who wa's stopping his taxi before a houso not far away., Mary walked slowly across the pavement, mounted the doorstep, and waited. Without Beeming to look, Bho-saw that no one got out of the second taxi. It was easy to guess who was inside. II did not matter to the men, evidently, that their presence was known. They wished to see whether the alleged Mr. and Mrs. Nelson Smith had the key of a house-door in Torringtou Square, and whether they were able to go in without hesitation, as if they were indeed at home. Since this was doubtless their design in' following so closely upon the, quarry's tracks they must have been disappointed at the busi-ness-like promptness with which the latchkey was inserted in the lock, and the calm air of doing an everyday, thing, with which the young woman and young man walked into the house. The door Was closed 'behind/tho two figures, and presently tho windows of tlie front room on the ground floor turned rose-colour, with light which filtered through crimson curtains. _ This was a touch of extra crimson curtains. This Was a touch of extra realism, that * occurred to Mary at the last moment. It was an extra' risk, also; but the house was quiet within. The click of the latchkey, tho slight tinpreventa'ble noise of opening and shutting' the front door had fortunately brought forth no dressing-gowned form, 'and Mary thought it worth While to impress - the ; watchers still further with the fact that Mr. and Mrs. Nelson Smith were thoroughly at home. Still, she- understood very Veil that the ordeal was not vet over.' The watchers would ' certainly wait for some time, to see' whether after all they 'we're hot being cleverly, tricked. .It would not: be safe for the man who must be'saved to" leave the house in, less than half an hour. .By- that time' the ;enemy might be discouraged, and go away. But even then, she must let him out. by .the basement, door, so that, cautiously peeping forth from,the shelter of- the area,,he might attempt to make sure that the. street "was deserted, -v-,-'\ Vv ','.:' ; It. seemed ages, since Mary had last seen Sirs, Ellsworth's old-fashioned drawingroom, lit with gas. It might, almost have been a. memory of a former, existence, so completely had- the girl and ■ her view of life altered, * ; . * - c '- \\< a ,

' 'A. ■ few ' hours—or was '> it dim years?— ago, she had come into this room 'before starting; out; for her great adventure. It was her duty to ask lier employer if she were comfortable and had everything she wanted; if there were any little commis- ; sion, such .as posting ! a letter, or buying stamps, or stopping at a chemist's, which she—Mary—could execute on the -way teher "dinner-party." Mrs. Ellsworth . had been sitting ■ by, a, hot fire, - stodging her. mind by reading an extremely silly novel, mid destroying her appetite by nibbling chocolates. ' The air was heavy and devoid of oxygen. No '. wonder Mrs. Ellsworth's temper was always ready to flare up at the tiniest spark U'(Strange to. say, the fat Woman, in black (she ''ad nagged lief Husband to death, and worn mourning for him for twenty years) could; think of nothing she wished her companion to do; but it took her a quarter of an hour to. decide, and Mary nad been in fear of arriving late, at- the Savoy. While she waited for Mrs. Ellsworth to rake through tho rubbish heaps of her brain, to find an excuse for some errand, it had seemed to Mary that the red room with its midVictorian furniture and crimson rep upholstery, its ug'.y portraits and meaningless oil-painted landscapes, its inane bric-a-brac, and its photograph-laden piano (never tuned) must be the most revolting drawing-room in nil London. But when, at a quarter to eleven, she and her loveryes, he was that— hand-in-hand— under the sprawling gilt chandelier, the girl marve'led that she could ever have thought the room even commonplace. Now, the rose-light of hope and love illuminated it, and made it beautiful. The grev volume of her old life was closed for ever. Whether the future were to brim: jov or sorrow, it could never again be dull."

The two spoke together in whispers, lest after all Mrs. Ellsworth should be awake, and from her distance catch the sound of voices in the house. Though sho was sixty years old, her hearing was of an unnatural sharpness. The servants sometimes said that "the missus could hear you thinking."

" There's one-more thing I might do to help," Eaid Mary. It's just occurred to me. Above tins is tiro room which used to be the drawiiigrooni before Mrs. Ells-

i worth's rheumatism grew so bad that she began to ha to going up and down stairs. Now, it's the spare bedroom. -Mr. Ruthyen Smith, of New York; sleeps there when ho comes to visit. - What if I should go softly up and light the gas, _ so that those two hateful wretches outside could see the red glow, in the windows? Then they would suppose—" She stopped, and carnation. stained her cheeks. "They would suppose that Sir. and Mrs. Smith had gone to. their room," the man finished, love and gratitude in the look he fixed upon Mary's flushed .face. You're wonderful"! You flunk of everything. Do you know, your trust, your faith, are the most beautiful things that ever happened to me? You call those men who want to trap me 'hateful wretches.' Yet you can't know that I am not the wretch, they the innocent injured ones. For all you can tell, I may be a thief. This may have been my way of getting into, a rich woman's house to steal her silver and jewels and money, and even take her life, if necessary," • Mary shivered. "Don't!" she implored. "I can't bear to have you say such things even in joke. A girl feels ■when a man can be trusted, I think. She doesnt hare, to know in any other way than through her instinct," " You are the kind of woman who has the power to turn Lucifer back from devil into archangel!" 'he exclaimed. ' " I'm almost afraid of vou, you white saint, I am so unworthy. But if you'll, give. yourself Ito me, 111 do my best,. at. least, to make you happy.. You shall have lovo and worship.. And who knows What, in the end, you will make of me?">" > ~." Hark'!■"„-Mary whispered" sharply. "I hear a. sound—don't you?"T > - : ! "Yes," he answered, "it's like a door creaking somewhere." •. '> .' > "Sirs.. Ellsworth's bedroom door creaks ' What .shall we do?,; You must go up to that front room—quick! ; You'll get to the stairs• before .Mrs.-,. Ellsworth ',-■ can hobble as .far as , the swing-door. , Tako these. matches. V But if you can crone your way in dark, r don't light one if you can help it, , till you are in the room. I'll cpnie. to you 'when"she's safe in bed again, and let you out, as we planned. . i " (To be continued on Wednesday next.)..,.;'