THE MAN SHE NEVER MARRIED.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LX, Issue 18567, 27 November 1923, Page 3

THE MAN SHE NEVER MARRIED.

BY CORALIE STANTON AND HEATH HOSKEN. Authore of "Three Men "Who Camo Back." "Sword and Plough," "The Beaten Track," Etc., Etc.

(Copyright.) CHAPTER XV. "The telegram,'' said Mr. Velvet, after pondering deeply, " is probably a forgery like the others." " I don't agree," retorted Tony very firmly. "It is just the sort of thinj he would send me, and it is signed by an intimate pseudonym which he and I have used ever since we were at the preparatory school together." " Quite so. But were there no . ther persons who knew that you called Mr. Vicars ' Hengist.' " " I suppose a few people —not many, and they would only have, known it by remembering both of us 20 years ago. It is a silly little whim of ours, a survival of our childhood, which we have kept up "between ourselves-" " Humph! Mr. Brian Stanford wouldn't know?" " Certainly not." " Ah. And what about Miss Champneys?" " Possibly she may have heard of — indeed, I believe she has. The first ti,:e we met" Ah, so it is not by any means in the nature of a secret code or anything of that sort?"

"Oh, dear no. But why are you so disposed to discount the genuineness of the telegram?" My dear Mr. Rawson," said Mr. Velvet. " it has always been my habit of mind to discount everything until I prove its validity. Now, I am not going to dismiss this telegram from our calculations. Far from it; but I am certainly not disposed to jump unquestioningly at the assumption that it has been sent by your friend. We must first of all make some inquiries at Et».ples. I am inclined to run over there myself at once. At the same time—" he shrugged his broad, lumping shoulders —"I am not very sanguine." You are the wettest of wet blankets," said Tony disconsolately. " Better in my business to be a wet blanket, Mr. Rawson, than a jumping Chinese Cracker. I take it you don't want us to do as the telegram suggests — stop all action, withdraw the offer of the £10.000 reward, cease all further investigation and let things solve themselves—eh?"

Personally," said Tony, "knowing Vicars as well as I do, I should feel inclined to do so. What about telling Scotland Yard?"

'* I'll tell you when I've been to Etaples. I'll get on to Croydon on the 'phone and see if I can't get an air passage to Boulogne. It will save a lot of time I could go there and back in three or four hours. That's it," he exclaimed, with an air of one having solved a problem, " I'll fly there-" " I'll come, too, if you don't mind." " I think that would be inadvisable," said Mr. Velvet. " You had better leave this entirely to me. If there is any likelihood of coming across anyone in connection with Vicars in Etaples, it is just as well that you are not there, because the chances are you would be recognised, whereas I may very well pass unnoticedI shall make a point of doing so. as a matter of fact" Sir. Velvet smiled enigmatically. Within half-an-hour Mr. Velvet was being borne swiftly in a taxi-cab to Croydon, and by one o'clock he was sealed in a steady travelling giant aeroplane well on his way to France. It was not until he was passing over Lympne with the silver-Straits of Dover lying beneath and ahead of him, and the white cliffs of France seemingly but a mile away, that he opened the noon edition of an evening newspaper he had purchased in London. If the truth must be told Mr. Velvet was rather interested in a certain three year-old called Clymenus 11. which was running at Goodwood that same afternoon. Mr. Velvet stood to win quite a nice little sum if Clymenus the Second did what was expected of him at three o'clock.

But Mr. Velvet forgot all about Clymenus and his close rival Soviet, who was starting favourite with odds on when he saw in the stop press : SUDDEN DEATH OF ET. HON. BRIAN STANFORD. IN WEST-END NURSING HOME. " So," said Velvet to himself and the blue empyrean, " so he's cheated the gallows after all." But, nevertheless, Mr. Velvet was poignantly conscious of a feeling of disappointment, a sense of having been thwarted, of having been robbed of a prize when it was just within his grasp. Also, he experienced a sense of having been badly treated. Why bad he not heard this news an hour ago ? What were his myrmidons doing to have left him in the dark so long: The last report he had received concerning Mr. Brian Stanford was dated about : seven o'clock yesterday evening, when that gentleman was supposed to be at the Carlton Club in greatly improved health and spirits an*! on the point of giving a small dinner party to some of his former colleagues. It was reported that he mediated going abroad for a few weeks. And now he was dead and out of the game for ever. It was in Mr. Velvet's opinion, a very bad bit of luck. His trip to Etaples suddenly became a very dull and uninteresting affair.

Mr. Velvet landed on terra firma in a depressed state of mind, which prevailed as he motored from Boulogne to Etaples at which quaint old fishing port he arrived within two hours of leaving London. It did not take long to find out what he had come for. The little Post Office soon discovered the original telegraph form. It was written in violet ink in script and not in cursive hand, and it certainly looked as if it had been written dv an Englishman or Englishwoman. The space provided for the name and address of • the sender, not necessarily to be telegraphed, was blank ; but an intelligent girl at the Post Office, who took and despatched the message, was able to supply some invaluable information. She remembered the occasion of the handing in of the wire, and was able to describe the sender. , " A ladv it was," she said in French, with which Mr. Velvet was thoroughly acquainted, "An English lady of about 60 or younger perhaps, tall and dark and handsome." Mademoiselle had seen the lady on two or *hree occasions during the summer. She occasionally called in to obtain postage stamps. She had not, to her knowledge, over sent a telegram bef°rP - ~ , ,V 1 ! -Does she live here:"' asked Velvet, who was naturally struck by the similarity of the woman as described by Mademoiselle and the woman who despatched the bogus telegrams from i-uston on the morning of what was to have been the wedding day of Jack Vicars and Dolly Uliampneys. •' I do not think so : Out I do not know,'' answered Mademoiselle, "She may be a painter—there are many artists here in the environs; but she did not have the appearance of an artist. She looked more like 1 a wealthy tourist from Le Touquet, the fashionable resort so popular with the English, but a couple of miles or so away, or from Paris Plage.Also." continued mademoiselle as if to effectually dismiss the idea that the tall, dark lady was an artist. " she always has come in" an automobile large, closed automobile limousine— very chic, very expensive." "Ah !" Mr. Velvet drew in a deep breath. This was getting on. "What make was the car, mademoiselle?" But mademoiselle shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. " I cannot say, m'sieu. I do not know the different makes. ■ 1 think it was an English car. It was very big and it was painted aTI very dark green," she added a few details and answered a few questions. " Sounds like a Daimler," said Velvet. " We. are getting on famously. Now, tell me, was anyone with Madame?"

"Not when she sent the : telegram, m'sieu, that is, no one came into .tne office with her. I did not, vof _ coarse, look inside the-automobile; But I do not think anyone was inside." :: ,r..,;'r* " There was a chauffeur? , ?"- .\ "Certainly, a chauffeur." ~ • -► " What was he like? " _ *.*. " I forget. You see I did not expect to answer these interrogations. As far as 1 can remember he was a young man with a, light dust coat and a peaked hat—he was a professional chauffeur all right. But, as I was saying, m'sieu, the lady came here several times."

"■' Always in the car? " "Always; but not always alone. The first time I rememberit was more than a month ago, oh, yes, quite more than a month ago—the lady she came and was accompanied by two gentlemen English gentlemen, one very tall and big, about forty; the other much older, if my memory serves me a little, very old man." Can you describe them? " Velvet asked eagerly ; but mademoiselle shrugged her dainty' shoulders again. "Alas! m'sieu, I am afraid I am no good at remembering details." " I think you are very good indeed," gallanty retorted Mr. Velvet. You are giving mc most valuable help, believe me. Now, try and think. You arc sure they were English? " " They spoke English, I remember; but I do not understand English, so I cannot tell what they spoke about. All I know is that it was English. I only speak French; but I can distinguish German and Russian and Italianl know a little Italian and English." " Quite so. Now tell me, mademoiselle, was it only on one occasion that these English gentlemen accompanied madams in the big dark-green motor-car? " The young woman frowned in an effort t» remember and pursed her pretty red lips. "I am not quite sure," she said. " I think it was only once; but madame always came in the green automobile limousine. I do remember that. T always saw her out of the little window here that looks on to the quay. But attend one moment." A sudden idea appeared to strike her. "It may be that Mar.'a Lesourd would have noticed. T will inquire. I think am not sure, it was so long ago—l think Marie said she knew one of the gentlemen. One moment, m'sieu. Mademoiselle Lesourd is my colleague here in the post office. She is hen' now. I will inquire." And without another word she darted away to the back of the little office and disappeared through a door at the opposite end of the room. Velvet was registering facts on his receptive memory. Tall, dark, handsome woman ; dark green Daimler limousine : chauffeur with light dust coat and peaked cap; two Englishmen one tall and middle-aged, one small and old. apparently living in the neighbourhood. Well-to-do'. Telegram in printed writing and violet ink. Obviously written elsewhere than the post office with a J-type of pen. At the post office the ink - was muddy brown black and the pens fine and cross-nibbed.

Come, to think about it, there was quite a lot to go on with. He wondered if the Englishwoman wore a wedding ring. He must ask mademoiselle .when she ieturned. The woman who handed in the typewritten telegrams at Euston had worn a wedding ring. A detail, but it misht help. Then mademoiselle returned with another girl, an older and more sedate young person, very suspicious and accretive, and very reluctant to enter into the conversation with the enthusiasm of her companion. Marie LeE r .urd was twentytwo.

But Mr. Velvet explained himself, and lie had a very taking way with the ladies. Also, it must be remembered, he was accompanied by an important French police official from Boulogne, as well as the Chief of Police of Etaples. Under the combined stress of these formidable official gentlemen, Mademoiselle Marl* ' Lesourd, at last grew sufficiently communicative to vouchsafe the fact that she had recognised the elder of the twogentlemen who had accompanied the English lady on the occasion of about a month ago as a Monsieur Dearth. H<» was an Englishman and had a chalet which he occupied erratically in the summer season at Hardelot, a little picturesque and historic village lying .between Etaples and Boulogne. - The year before the Great War, Mademoiselle i\S*rie Lesourd had been in service, vf'th Mr. Dearth, who was a bachelor and was reputed to be a great gambler. Marie'* family came from Hardelot. (To be continued daily.) '.-,.;