THE MYSTERY OF CHOCKSANDS.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LX, Issue 18455, 19 July 1923, Page 5

THE MYSTERY OF CHOCKSANDS.

BY FRED M. WHITE. if Author of "The Secret of the Sands." "Th* Devil's Advocate," "The Man with the Vandyke Beard," "The Edge of ~ the Sword," oJe. /■.."'' (Copyright.) '■■■'■ / CHAPTER VI. ; :v ' It was only Ellen's business training and the restraint she had learnt to put upon herself during the two years she had been in . Melrose's office that enabled her to go about her work as if nothing had happened. But she. was shaken to her soul with the revelations of tho past few days, and gradually she was coming to a certain determination. She seemed to feel by a sort of instinct that somewhere or another in the world the document that meant so much to her still existed, and if it did she was not going to rest until she found it. It seemed almost incredible to her that her father would have neglected to sign a document that meant so much to his only child, especially when he knew the reputation of the man who would become become head of the family if anything happened to himself. .Therefore something or other in some forgotten place that deed existed. Still, the work had to go on, and for the. moment, at any rate, Ellen was compelled to put the great problem out of her mind. She wsisunfeignedly glad when the Saturday morning arrived, and was looking forward to a quiet afternoon after the office had closed. She would lunch in the City at the usual place, ! and then walk as far as Waterloo Station ! and go by train to Hampton Court. She could stroll along the river bank in the sunshine and have tea at a little place she knew of, and get back to Dalston in the cool of the evening.' It would be good to be away by herself and get her disturbed thoughts into , something like order. And yet when she was accosted inside the restaurant by Rollo Bly she found herself almost unusually glad to see him.

" Now, this ib quite an unexpected < pleasure," Bly said. '.'I never hoped to meet you here on a Saturday morning. I had come. into the City on business, and I dropped in here for a mouthful of lunch before.going up the river. lam off into Devonshire on Monday, and I shall not be back for months. Now, Miss Marchant, will you be very much annoyed if I make a suggestion? If you have nothing better to do, why not spend the afternoon on the river with me and have tea at the Mitre? I must be back by seven o'clock. Awful cheek, and all that,' isn't it? " " No, I think that it is very kind ot you," Ellen said. " I will come witS pleasure." It was the first time in her life she had ever been out with a man, and she was rather inclined to blame herself for having so readily fallen in with his suggestion. She knew by instinct that there was a man she could trust, and she knew by the same instinct that his feelings for her were somthing » mora than friendly. But she did not know as yet how dangerously near she was to reciprocating the feeling, so she walked along by his side and travelled with him in the first-class carriage quite happy in the knowledge that for one afternoon at least she was going to spend a few pleasant hours with fine of her own class and breeding. It was very peaceful and' quiet there on the riyer in the sunshine, for it was early in the season yet, and there were not many boats out. Still, it was beautifully mild and balmy, and by common consent they drifted presently into a backwater, where Bly tied up The boat and lighted a cigarette. " Now, this is what I call really fine," he said. " Just you and I together apart from the world, with no one to. worry us, and no stupid people to ask questions." "'■ '. : :; : <'C-\

Y«t'? °* ten come this way,? Ellen said; .1 love the river; but it isn't nice to be always alone." ',' ." Do you : mean that you have .no friends? " Bly asked. " Sorry, but that 18 » gotten .; way of putting it, isn't it? " Well, it happens to be true," Ellen smiled. "Do you know, Mr. Bly I haven't got a relation in the world. I 'am the very last of my family. ; For some reasons I am glad. You see, I have no one to worry me, and I earn quite as much as I want"' . • ~'.' Yes, but you haven't always done this sort of : thing, I am sure," Bly said. You weren't brought up to getting your own hying tapping a .typewriter in a lawyer's office.' " No, I wasn't," Ellen smiled.' "But when my father died there was nothing, left for me and I had to fend for myself? please don t imagine that I regret it.. All the same, my childhood was a quiet one, so that I never had the cl?ance of making any friends. I think/you are the first I nave over had." , ,;

iu *■»,'• m r , eal P ro "d for you to say that, Miss Max-chant," Bly said. " If ever there is anything that I can do for you, if ever I can help you in any way. I shall be really hurt if you don't , let me know. .Like you, I have not many mends, and I have more money than 15 good for me. At least, that is what people say. So if ever you ■■ want me please write •to me at The Craig, CrockBands Abbey, North Devon. I| m going to stay down there for the summer with a friend of'-mine called Evors— H/yors, who is an Australian chum of ,mine. . He,came to England the year before the war on business of a- none J too pleasant character, and by chance found "himself in Devonshire. There he managed to scrape the acquaintance of Sir George Bland-Merton, who then owned Crocksands Abbey. In the grounds among the wooas a kind of glorified sumnwr house fitted with all sorts of modern appliances, inducing' electric light which the old gentleman bad built for himself not far from his own residence, and this he let on lease to my friend Evors. It's a topping place, Miss Marchant." ■: il 'Yes:. I know it is," Ellen said thoughtlessly. • - ' ' • ■ "Then you know it?" Bly cried; - "Yes. V I might just as we'll tell you that I know it very well. I—l spent/ some time there in my younger ; ■days.' Mr. Bly, I wonder if I might confide in you." .' V : ■ , . • Bly looked up with a smile in his blue eyes. :. ' •. :,.,.. ~„• ■■;, . ,;. V.l shall be more than honoured," he murmured.' *

" And yet I can't tell you everything," Ellen said. The secret is not. entirely my own., But, strangely enough", it concerns Crocksands, and certain people who used to live there.. What I want to ask you is this. If you ever see me at Crocksands Abbey i want you to pretend that you have never met me before. IE I am introduced to you it will be as a stranger. There may be occasions' when', we ■ shall meet alone, and then it won't matter, but for the first time we > come together it is as if we had never seen each other before." ■ .'-■ '>;■-; ._■ -.; .', •■; ■■:.•■

" That is a solemn compact," he said. "I can't tell how 'delighted.l.am to hear that there is a chance of your coming down to Crocksands; and .as; to the rest) I am going to possess my soul in patience. But something tells me that you are going to need a friend, and I am, that friend to the death." . v ','.,

With that he took the hand that Ellen placeu in Jits and carried it to , his. lips. He could see a certain embarrassment in her eyes, so he went on tsiKing. , '.'You will like Evors* he said. He is a really splendid chap, besides being a first-class sportsman. He was badly gassed in the war, and is only just getting fit ami well again. Like me, he is a great enthusiast on the subject of moths and butter"ies. We go about at nights with landers sugaring the trees, already we have 'obtained some rare specimens. 'But that, blighter Sir Christopher "Wrath doesn't like it. He calls us infernal poachers. He has tried three or four times to get Evors out of the bungalow, but he can't do it, so' he makes himself as unpleasant as possible. Do you know there is - something wrong with that chap;" .m -.- ' - . . .* . " " Tn what way do you mean?■"■'.. Well, I couldn't quite tell, you, Bly said, vaguely. " But I fell convinced he is a bad egg. ; Evors met him once, many years ago, in Australia,' andll ;am : sure Evors could say a good deal "if; he liked; .Now ; let's igo and have some tea"." ' : Ellen went back to Balaton in the cool of the evening more easy in her mind and

contented than she had beed for some" days. She' felt now that "I had ''made' the friend which. before^iaog'i-:th6pkawr; t..'' that' she: would ne<id. And, moreover, if • circumstances did carry her as |far;;aß ! V '; Crocksanda Abbey i within the next week • Or two, then she would have ho fear that . i any sudden surprise on Ely's part would " 1 betray, her,. Moreover, iihe , had been • : making- a few inquiries on her own | account, and had discovered that not one ■',' of the old servants remained at Crock-;; •": sands Abbey. They had all drifted away, ' or been discharged since Christopher , Wrath, had taken over the reins, and-, even the housekeeper, who was more -or less part of the freehold, had given place ; , to a modern importation from London, "$ There was nothing, therefore, '' now that , Ellen need be afraid of. It was a ■ big , enterprise that she had in her,: and: she f ■'.•■■" would need all her courage to - carry ' it through. There wore two or three letters waiting ''- for her when she got back to the mean house at Dalston, and she smiled to herself as she read one of them. To this she scribbled a hasty reply, which she posted personally a little later. Everything was going well now, and her mind was fully made up. . It was just before lunch on the Monday morning when she entered the private office of her employer and asked if sha might have a few words of private con* versation with him. 4 ''Why, certainly," Melroso saidWhat is there that I can do for you? No trouble, I hope." "Not exactly,'' Ellen said. "I am afraid I am going to disappoint you, Mr; Melrose. But I am sure I am acting fog the best. I am going to leave vou—reluctantly, it is true, but really I must go. As a matter of fact, I have already taken another situation, which is subject to "a reference from you. Will you kindly give me one? " "Of 'course," Melrose' said. "I shall be exceedingly sorry to lose ' you, Miss Marchant. But tell me,- \vhere is this new situation? Somewhere in London, I suppose?" .■;•;.; , " No," Ellen said. "It is at Crock- • sands Abbey. I have arranged to act as ' private secretary to Sir Christopher * •' Wrath, and I may remind you-that I go not as Ellen Bland but as 'Miss Marchant., ' .you will respect my secret, I know." ■. " Good heavens'! " Melrose gasped. Are you- mad? Oh, my girl, yott must have taken leave of your senses." ; .

. CHAPTER VII. , ..." The first stage in the passage to the .-';■' goal was'passed, and Ellen was back at '■■■ Crocksands once more. Just at first the mere joy of living the old scenes over again sufficed, and Ellen revelled in the ancient house that had stood in the golden valley long: before the spacious days of Queen Elizabeth— there was no more ancient family in Devon tlian the Blands, and they had made history there. hey had had their ups and downs, too, sometimes on top of the wave and again on the verge of ruin. A hundred years ago they had been noted as smugglers of the most daring type, with an evil repute almost equal to that of the Doones; then the head of the house had allied himself to money made in trade, and since then. '; the Blands and Bland-Mertons had come back into 'the fold of probity and respectability. Still the legends remained, and Ellen had absorbed them in her childhood's days with all the eagerness of a boy reading his first copy of " Robinson Crusoe." She knew the history of the , Hundred Steps that 5 led -up from the beach to the ledge on the cliffs>where the smuggled treasures were hidden, and the perilous .path above that, which finished five hundred feet higher up in the old tower which had once been a beacon light for ships passing up and down the Bristol Channel:' The path was still more intact, and plain enough for anybody who 7 once knew its secret, and more than once •••: in days cone by Ellen had climbed it i herself. It was a dangerous and hazardous undertaking, requiring ,a- cool head ; and a firm nerve, for one slip' would have meant, destruction on,; the rocks : below. ! And once since she had 7 been there this, time Ellen had lventured to make , that ; climb,- again. ; She -saw by ; the moss and >*' ; undergrowth straggling , u over 'J. the ;r half- PA obliterated .path that it had not been used < probably since she had . essayed the climb I herself, arid she had been quite thankful when she came to the top.' - *• She had counted up all the risks in her ' ? mind before she answered the advertise- ' ment that Wrath had more or : less S cunningly placed i. in her way, ' and : it;seemed to her that they were negligible. i To begin with, she'had found out that not one of the old servants, .man, :or woman, or boy, remained at Crocksands; for Wrath had quarrelled with' them- all in ■ the early days of his reign, and ■had; dismissed them as. a - set of V lazy in- ■ competents, replacing them by a staff vi which,he had, engaged through an agency ; ; in London. There was no chance, there- ;, fore, that she would ; be "< recognised , bjr *■'■- anyone one the I ' i premises, Moree-veri it , ''w""-.' had been nearly five years' since she /had seen Crocksands last, ! and in that time she had altered almost out of recognition.: She judged, too, that ! few of the-' old' . county families would call on the' new owner of Crocksands knowing his last • reputation ;, as. they did, and in this Ellen Vi .was right. There had been one or two for- •;. ■- ' mal visits to Crocksands out of respect to : the late owner, but these had not been 'i foIJ "JfV : lowed up by any interchange of hospitality < so that as far as f the : \/county "was • concerned Wrath had no friends V there, , ; • Moreover, he heartily despised his : 'neigh- : V v bours for a set of old fossils : hopelessly ;r out of .date and i wrapped up in; the con- ? templation of their own dignity. '•■ Two ?4:■'■■'" days ■:; at • Crocksands had convinced Ellen ■ that' her secret was safe. ' ' _Meanwhile, she -had'hot;much l :to } .'do."'• **"'"' There were a fair amount of; letters to "■ write, most of them' to some mythical correspondent in Manchester, arid, these ■'• letters for the most part apparently had vto do with racing matters.;: Ellen was not on g i" coming to the conclusion that Wrath . was : engaged in sonic dubious; : U. enterprise . which might - sooner' or .'"•■ later bring him in contact with the law. Not : that Wrath took a: direct hand >Mti{i the •■"" business, which appeared. to be managed by an elderly friend of ■ his whom ; he : called' Sione; ; This was a man with pale' v fai,*e- arid bent shoulders, a,.'man-'""-with a ragged black beard streaked with grey, whoso furtive manner conveyed the im- , pression that he was in some way under a, , ': cloud, . Ho. crept about the house. spearing at unexpected moments much vis n c*at might; and, though his manner towards - Wrath was one of deference, there were ' moments when Ellen detected . r certain truculent spirit which "did : not tally; with ■ Stone's position in the household. . There was a lady Housekeeper, ' too, ( who had been introduced to Ellen as Mrs. '' Amberley. She was a tall, spare woman, W with black and eyes, and the remaini ? of what at one time, bad been great per-*' sonal beauty. She was cold and distant/ wry firm with the servants;land yet in. Wrath s company.: her ; behaviour : was ; : ■■''■'■ much like that of.; a beaten slave in the? : i'-c presence of ..;• her master. ' ">. There ■'■.-' were : times when the: dark eyes I ;flashed «nd r - the thin lips compressed ; with a sudden half-smouldering : passion, but these inter- {. vals were rare., So far as Ellen was concerned, she 'found the •.' hoUßekeepeer l friendly enough,.and, in; any case, tlh'ei secret understanding between Mrs. Am-> berley and Wrath was •/ no business of> hers. . Still, ■■' there came one morning '■ in the library when Wrath's mariner to Ellen was a '; little more caressing and insolently familiar than ; it:''.had '■ been .before, and Ellen was , about % x to show ; her resentment when Mrs. • Amberley came into the room. Just for an instant the dark 'eyes gleamed and the • thin lines of the mouth grew rigid. It was quite evident that the woman had ' both seen and overheard. : - •',•:' :..;..(To bo continued daily.):;/ .»'-'.