THE-" HAMMERS OF HATE.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LVI, Issue 17297, 22 October 1919, Page 14

THE-" HAMMERS OF HATE.

BY GUY THORNE, .author of " Whsu It Was Dark," "A Lost Cause." Etc. . (COPYRIGHT.) CHAPTER V.—(Continued.) During the rest of that day and night Ivor iras tormented with an agony of indecision. The work was going well— speedily than any of them had hoped. Would it not bo only the right thing to dr. to rush over to Nice and report progress. Should he cable Ito her at the Hotel Splendido that he was coming. At Li?;, well after midnight, when he had finished his shift of work on the submarine, lie decided to consult his companions. lie showed them the newspaper, and they both read the paragraph. Diacow simply looked blank and had no opinion to offer, but Laing's words vcre more comforting. ' Do you no' see. Mr. Ivor, that if Miss Margaret wanted to put the Kyle folk off their guard she could use no better plan than this? They will think that- she has abandoned her efforts to find Sir Angus, ;.nri they'll be oti' their guard. She may l*> on the Mediterranean, and just waiting till the right moment to return. On the <V.her hand, she may not be there at all." "Hut the paragraph in the. paper?" '" A very small expenditure would prodnve that," said Mr. Laing with, a emi'e. "and I'i bet you the same paragraph will apprvu- in a hundred other papers during a day or two. I'm not a man to risk good siller for nothing at a', but' I wager you half a-cruwn that the same paragraph, or one like it, is in the Morning Post, a:nonj.\ tin fashionable intelligence during the newt few days." And with this sage view Ivor was forced to be coTitont. As dead weary, he ferried himself over to the hulk, accompanied by the faithful bloodhound, he felt a little ashamed ai his own want of trust. He got into bed and sank into a deep sleep, with out dreams or disturbances, and was wakened the next, morning by the woman who looked after hire, who brought him an evly cup of tea, and h's private post. Letters dealing with the affairs of the dock were addressed to the company, and opened in the office Private letters were brought, to him direct This morning there was only one. a typewritten envelope, which he opened with languid curiosity. When he saw the letter bore the heading of Messrs. Sloane, Gibbs, and Britten, he sat up in bed with a start. The letter awireljr requested him to call at the 6olirttors office at noon that day upon urgent business.

Ivor told his colleagues that he was taking a day off, and was shown into Mr. Sioane's private room at five minutes past the hour. The two men shook hands. "I've a letter for you, Mr. McGregor," *a.d Mr. Sloane, " Mis» Margaret Saintebury desired me to hand it to you." " A letter for ma! I was most anxious to bear from Miss Saintsbury, Mr. Sloane. I wished to report progress in the business matter in which wo are associated." 'Here is the tetter" said Mr. Sloane, 'but," and here a little dry cackle of laughter escaped the old gentleman, "but I doubt very much if it comes from Xice!" "With your permisison 1 will open it now." It will simplify matters if you do, Mr,. McGregor, for .' . . However, please read."

This was the litter : — Dear Mr. .McGregor— *' I want' to see you urgently, and I am going to ask you to make another sacrifice for me. Firet of all, I must Lear from your lips exactly how the boat's going on. Secondly, events have occurred to make it imperative that we should hold council together. Your generosity is so boundless » that I am taking still further advantage of it. but I think the best thank© I can give you—knowing —is to do so. I am supposed-to be in the South of France, But lam not. Indeed, I am close by you, j hut hidden, and so far unobserved. It"has hern necessary to invent and carry out a y niotit elaborate system of deception— j. have no idea of the malignancy which pur- •: sues me. I cannot say what I want to-say in a letter, butl rely upon von —in a few hours we shall meet. * Will you give yourstlf utterly into the hands of Dr. Vango? Mr. Sloand will introduce him to you. He is demoted to me and my interests, for he, too, has suffered at the hands of people I will not name, and for other reasons he hsi my. confidence. "Oh, 1 do want to see you so much."

And here the latter ended without any . formal farewell but just the simple signa- • ture, "Margaret Saintsbury." 11 went straight to Ivor's heart, and the lined, toil-worn face that looked up at the lawyer was transformed. " And now," said the lawyer, " I must introduce you to Dr. Vango in whose hands you will place yourself without reserve. Come this way." He led Ivor into an adjacent room where a clean-shaved man of medium height and .1 somewhat nautical appearance was aitting smoking a briar pipe. "Here's your patient, Dr. Vango," said the solicitor, " and now, as I am very busy, I'll bid you both good morning." He retired and closed the door, and Ivor found himself shaking hands with Dr. Vango, of whom he knew nothing at all", Out that Margaret Saintsbury trusted him, and that* he was absolutely at' the man's disposal—a queer sensation. And when he looked into the man's face, the whole thing seemed queerer still. It was a dull grey, like a pale face seen through a London fog. The mouth was . thin-lipped and large, the nose, twisted slightly on one side, bold and piominent. The eyes were cavernous and watchful, while the prominent forehead wan deeply wrinkled. s rj "So you're my new patient," said Dr. Vango, and as he said it the face altered into a kind of sad and whimsical humour. like that of a tired old clown, or the battered first mate of a cargo ship who had never been given a command. •Eatient? I don't understand, Dr. Vango!" •' But you soon will," said the other, and Ivor noticed that hie voice was singularly human and pleasing in tone, ' you soon will, Mr. McGregor, don't you know that you're mad, that you suffer from delusions?" Ivor stook back and frowned. " I'm not mad at any rate." he said quickly, " and an for delusions—" " Well, you've got to imagine you're ad for a few hours at least. And what's more, you've got to behave like it— , our** in a restrained and decent way. We are both under one skipper, and we've -it to obey her. You're a sailor yourself, and you'll know what that means. I was r. ship's doctor— big American liner—until ,- few years age, when I started a private asylum for ladies and gentlemen of the upper classes, so now we know each other."

'■ But please, explain. Dr. Vango, this is getting a little beyond me." ■■Simply this," the other answered, and iie spoke in deep earnest. "Miss Saint.--bury and her aunt are not. as you might .-appose, in Scotland, or enjoying them:.|ve-' upon the Hivi.ia. They are inmates - i my private mad-house in the little coast ' .ilagu of Kskmouth. And what's more, i i-t a sou! suspects tint they are anything I. at .viiat they pi i tended to be when tliev <a.mc 1-, me a fortnight ago. They are mv private ■<■-:-. ~f er. M .,-. They have nothing to do with any of my patients, but tue only w.v (~ I nog \ou to them without «■• soul kllOV.l'g i', ; a that -,„„ ,-oin.- A.i palie.nl too. N,,„- do you understand?" ' ' I an, beginning to ,-ee daylight, doctor »JUt fat I — 'You know the .... -.instances, the efore two words will sutlic „ 1( w fus ab(nll ., v necessary that Mi Sa'ntsburv >,d h V aunt should where ,t in peo," dI, ; ; no idea where the- lr » i . ' , cannot touch them A "' ld , cert: ''" l'«"P ! then you will a*, tt, Island, aliens/" 8W) th<i whole-plan 0 oper .

Ivor understood at one* ««"" - "'"'• 0o asfised eagerly.

" By the afternoon train to Windermere, and from there by motor-car—and there will be some etiff climbs—to Eskmouth. There's no need for you to disguise yourself in any way, but change your clothesa heavy overcoat, a collar apd soft hat would be best, fill a portmanteau, and meet me here again in an hour and a-half. I shall have an attendant with me, and the best thing for you to do is to appear to be sunk in apathy. We'll talk when we get into the train. I'll have a first-class carriage reserved for us. And I'll tell you this, Mr, McGregor that Miss Saintsbury is awaiting your arrival with the utmost impatience."

Ivor hurried back to the dock and told his colleagues of what had occurred. His heart was beating high with anticipation and hope. His face betraved something of what he felt.

'It's a queer business, a very queer business, Mr. Ivor," said Laing. "To pretend to be a madman, and be received into a private asvlum where Miss Saintsbury is?" " Just, that, and it makes me think hard. Such desperate methods only go to show in what dangers we are walking. I never thought to hear o' my laird's daughter hiding as a patient in a madhouse, though 'tis a clever trick, a very clever piece o' strategy, and then ye see,'"' Laing continued, gradually becoming excited as he spoke, " the beauty o't is that my leddy has established hersel' at a base within thirty knots or so frae Ravenrock itsel*. Sic a daring move, conjointly with the paragraph in the newspapers, may well throw the hounds of Kyle completely on : the scent. Mr. Ivor, vou take very good notice of your surroundings, and see what water there is at Eskmouth. It may be that it's frae there we shall hae tae start for Ravenrock !"

Ivor gave a few directions, arranged m 'ana of communication, and then hurried back to the solicitor's office, where Doctor Vango was awaiting him, together with a silent, clean-shaved man in black, of muscular build, and of somewhat forbidding countenance. In twenty minutes they were at the station, ready to catch the train for Windermere. An official pasted Up a reserve notice on their carriage, speaking in a low voice to the doctor, whom he recognised, and looking compassionately at Ivor, whose coat collar and squash hat hid most of his face, and who did his best to regard most of the noise and bustle of the station with a vacant stare. Before the train left the platform Doctor Vango pulled down the blind. " Do you speak French," he whispered to Ivor, who nodded in reply. '• The attend ant here is perfectly trustworthy and devoted to me," said" the doctor, " he has been with me for ye«,rs, and though he knows perfectly well you are as sane as I am, and that this is only a pretence, there's no need for him to overhear all our conversation."

"How is Miss Saintsbury?" Ivor said, j " is she well, has she any news?"— stop- ; ped himself just in time. I " SJi« is perfectly well, Mr. McGregor, j and she has certain news of her brother, i ■which she will tell you herself. I know everything: so von can speak quite freely | The late Sir Angus Saintsbury was my friend and patron. Never mind where and how, but he once did me a supreme service. Had it not been for his help I should have been a disgraced and ruined man. It was he who finally enabled me to leave the sea, and to stuuy the care of the insane. Finally, it was his bounty that provided the funds.for the model establishment I now control, .and which is in a fair way to make my fortune. Having said that much, you will see that I am bound by every tie of honour and gratitude to the Saintsbury family." He spoke very seriously, and there was an honest light in his eyes, which made Ivor feel drawn to him at once. " Do you think, doctor." he asked, "that Miss Saintsbury is in any personal danger?" " My boy, if she wasn't in £rave per sonal danger she wouldn't be hidden away from the world in Eskmouth, where she is as safe as if she were locked up in Portland Prison. It was her own idea. She wrote a letter to me explaining a little, a very little, of what was afoot. I consented at once to receive her and her aunt as pretended inmates of the asylum. She was in London, and being carefully -watch- : ed ; but we cicumvented the people, and 1 she disappeared, leaving no trace whatever. There's not a soul on that devilish island that suspects she is so near."' He lit his pipe and relapsed into silence, and settling himself into his own comer, Ivor closed bis eyes and thought. Well! up to the present everything had gone satisfactorily. There had been no further accident at the works, and no espionage as far as hh could judge. The ship was rapidly approaching completion, and he himself was being borne as fast as steam could carry him to the presence of his love! The journey, broken by a single change, was quite uneventful. It was dark when they alighted at Windermere station, and the air was keen and frosty -with no wind. A powerful open car was awaiting them, and there was hardly a word spoken as they sped away along a winding road in the country of lake and mountain. The great car droned along, eating up the, miles; the driver never at fault. It climbed the mountain roads with ease, and thundered down into the valleys, guided by a sure hand, until at last the smell of the sea came sharp to the nostril. And Ivor knew that the long fide was nearly at an end.

It was, indeed, nearer, than be had imagined, for, passing through the scattered lights of a hamlet, and with a sound of the sea in their ears, they turned sharp to the right for a quarter of a mile, | and then slowed down before massive gates in a high brick wall. The horn sounded three times. A little aperture opened in the gates, and a light flashed out, then they swung open : and the car rolled slowly to the front door of a considerable mansion, which stretched out on either side in battle- - raented wings, with many tall chimneys rising into the night. Stiff and cold from the journey, Ivor was ushered into a small panelled hall, where a great fir© of logs was glowing. and a man servant took away his coat and wraps. After he had washed his hands, Doctor Vango insisted on taking his cup i of soup, and, that done, led him down a passage and into a small, cosily-furnished drawingt'oom. " I'll tell Miss Saintsbury at once," he 1 said. * i

Ivor stood before the fire, and he trembled. He pressed his hand to feel the globe over his heart. Never in his whole life had he been so agitated as now. What should he say to her, how greet her? The dazzling face with its proud beauty came before his mental vision, as it had done a thousand times during the last few weeks. He had brooded and pondered over her so long that she had become, as it were, a dream lady, a wonderful ideal, love itself personified, rather than a girl of warm flesh and blood. In a moment she would come into the room and he would touch her hand; and how could he beein to tell her of the wonderful boat that was growing mushroom-like i.i the secret dock? He wanted to say something far different, to tell her. . . He turned, rested his elbows on the mantelpiece, and dropped his head up"H his hands, struggling desperately with himself for the mastery of his'emotions. He had had- likings—preferences for this girl and that in the past. But he had never thought much about women. He had never in his life had even what might, be. described as, a serious flirtation. so that when the real thing came at last the sweetness and the terror of it were almost too great to l>eai'. She was coming! In a, minute she would be here' His whole soul was riven at the thought of the white flame, the mystery that was she. He did not know it, but he groaned aloud like a man in priio, and then something touched Irs shoulder. He turned and Margaret steed before lorn. He had not heard her enter or cross tin: -<«oii] toward.- him. but oin ■■ mure she had appeared to In- startle I si uses as a visitor from another world. This wa- onlv the second time that be had .-ten her. but as lie herd lie- swec'-, lew voice anxiou.-iy inquiring it he were well he saw something in those eyes o! deep pu'isi'i.' am-'thyst that lit (lie strong m.de purpose in him like a t n h. Prride'ie:—every earthly consideration vanished like smoke. "Margaret!" he cried aloud, so that his voice echoed in the little room, and then he took her in his arms, an.] head her to him in a fierce, yet tender grip, a prisoner, I And no nnvrilbng prisoner. 1 (To ba continued on Saturday next.)