THE MAN SHE NEVER MARRIED.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LX, Issue 18571, 1 December 1923, Page 5 (Supplement)

THE MAN SHE NEVER MARRIED.

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

(Copyright.)

CHAPTER XVl.—(Continued.)

"I," said Velvet, " ought to have explained my object before; but you will agree that you hardly gave me an opportunity." "Well, you've got it now. What's it all about? " " I am anxious," said Mr. Velvet, " to find the address of a lady friend of yours who this morning sent a telegram from the post office at Etaples, purporting to come from a Mr. Vicars, who somewhat mysteriously disappeared a few weeks ago." Dearth's jaw dropped. Ho grew perceptibly paler. The little old rat of a man gaped uncomprehending. He had not heard, but he probably gathered the import of what Velvet was saying. Vivid terror shone in his little close-set eyes. He made as if to speak. " I may as well introduce myself," Velvet continued, " since sooner or later you are bound to know. My name is Paul Velvet." He said it as if ho were grandiloquently announcing the fact that he was the King of Spain or the President of the United States. "That means nothing to me," muttered Dearth. " Who are you? " " Have you ever heard of Tollertons? " Mr. Velvet knew that . the bearded giant was not only very surprised, but very frightened, and shrugged his shoulders. " Well we won't go into the matter of my identity. But perhaps you can oblige me with the information I seek. Who and where is the lady in question? " " I don't know what you are talking about,'" growled Dearth. "Do you happen to know anything about Mr. John Vicars, who disappeared mysteriously or was perchance as mysteriously murdered some weeks ago?" "Never- heard of him," muttered Dearth. "Don't know what you are talking about." "Anatole," said Mr. Velvet, drawing the chauffeur aside, "slip out and take the car to Etaples just as hard as you can. I'll give you a note for M. Rignauld, the Chief' of Police there. You know him. I was with him just now. Place yourself at his orders and bring him Lack as soon as you like and tell him to bring a couple of his men. This looks like being a good day's work." But will you be all right left alone here?' asked Anatole anxiously. "Don't worry about me. I've got them safe and sound. Now look sharp. I want to get back to London to-night. I must catch the seven boat from Boulogne. I've got an important supper appointment this evening.". Mr. Velvet then wrote a brief note to M. Rignauld in French. He also wrote out on a blank page which he took from his note book a telegram to "Tollertons London," and it was in code —a jumble of French and English words incomprehensible to anyone who was not in the secret. What is really meant was : "Ascertain all about Nigel Scamp, whoso will proved last month uncle of Vicars, also Roger Dearth, of Bordeaux and Hardelot. Inform Scotland Yard am engaged on most important development likely to solve matter. Returning to-night." He gave Anatole a hundred franc note and again urged despatch. CHAPTER XVII. Tony Rawson, like Mr. Velvet, heard of the sudden death of Brian Stanford in an evening paper he bought and casually read ever -his lunch in the City. They probably learned the news about the same time. Tony's first impulse was to rush to the nearest telephone and ring .up Dolly and tell her the news. He did so. That is to say ho rang up Signet Walk but ho did not speak to Dolly. A servant answered him, and said Miss Champneys was out. So was Mrs. Champneys and Mr. Champneys. What name, and was there any message? Tony contented himself by. saying thab Mr. Rawson had rung up and would do so again. So Stanford was dead. Odd coincidence that the news that Jack was alive and that Stanford was dead' should follow so swiftly. Somehow or other Tony could not bring himself to worry much about Stanford. It would be sheer hypocrisy on his part to pretend that he felt any great grief. It was a shock and a surprise because the last person on earth he expected to die was Brian Stanford. Well —peace to his soul. De mortuis— Strange tales began to float about. Someone said that Stanford had committed suicide. Which ,Tonv could quite believe. Then somebody else circulated a rumour that he had been murdered. Tony could almost credit that. But at last the bald facts came out with the usual fulsome flatteries which attend public men on their death; long obituaries, Biographies and laments for a brilliant life cut short in its prime or rather in this case at the threshold of a great and illimitable career. Strangely enough it was the fact that Jack Vicars was alive that occupied all Tony's thoughts. Jack was alive. Jack might at any moment re-appear. And when Jack came back it would bo to find that his oldest and best friend had stolen his dearest possession. He was actually engaged to Dolly. Tony went hot and cold with the realisation. At any moment he might have to meet old Jack and tell him that he had played him false, that he had robbed him of the woman who was his bethrothed wife. The situation was one which could not be faced. Something must be done and no time must be lost about it. It was like running away with your friend's wife. It was darkest treachery. As a man of honour, something must be done before it was 'too late. Ho took that wretched telegram out of his pocket and read it for the hundreth time. "In great danger, stop all legal action ; will communicate again soon as possible ; don't tell Dolly—Hengist." "Don't tell Dolly." Why? Of course, ho must tell Dolly. It was only old Jack's way of wanting to save her anxiety. How was he to know they all thought him dead? Of course, he must tell Dolly. Dolly was. strong enough to bear the news. Besides, it would make his task easien Surely she would appreciate the ghastly position. There were such things as a plighted word and a man's honour.

And he said lie would communicate again as soon as possible. If Tony knew anything of Jack that meant very soon, "In great danger" was rather ominous. Still, once assured that Jack was alive, Tony knew that, danger would mean little to him. All this time it had been the haunting _ fear, largely engendered by the pessimistic Paul Velvet, that Jack had met with a violent death, "that had robbed him of his faith and trust and sense of duty. He had felt guilty even to Jack, as he had thought him dead. But Jack alive—that was a very different matter. He would telephone Dolly again. No, he would not be a coward. He would take his courage 'in both hands, and boldly go and see her face to face. He would ask her to wipe out the sweet memory of this morning, to forget, to think of him only as a faithful honest friend of both her's and Jack's It was the only possible thing to do. He hailed a taxi cab in Gracechurch Street and told the man to drive to Signet Walk, CI el sea. "

He could- not help smiling a, little grimly at the thought of how different this promised visit to Dolly's home was to be than what he had expected three or four hours ago. It was . a topsy-turvy world.

It was fire o'clock when he reached the Champneys' house. He was shown into the drawing : room', . where ; the beautiful Mrs. Champneys who was alone and playing Chopin on a Bechstein grand, received him.

She rose and greeted him cordially. "Dolly said you were coming," she said., " What' is all." this she tells mo? What does it all mean, Mr. Rawson?. I have never heard of such a thing. We never had an inkling. It has come like a thunderbolt. And so soon after that terrible business of Mr. Vicars. Sit down, Mr. Rawson, and let us havo it out. My husband is not back from the Courts yet. I will ring for some tea. You -will like some tea, wouldn't you"'" Tony felt more like some neat Cognac than tea at that precise moment, but he weakly said that nothing would please him more than tea. Mrs. Champneys touched the bell. "I feel," she said, "that I ought to be very severe with you. I really don't know -what Dick will say when he hears." — Dick was Mr. Champneys—"l must say 1 think it is very wrong of youvery wrong of you both, for of course Dolly is just as much to blame. Oh dear, these modern girls. What is to become of the next generation if we go on like this?" "Mrs. Champneys,'" interposed Tony, after several ineffectual attempts to stem the tide of her vociferous, playful banter, "I wonder if you will think it very rude if I ask you if I may have a word or two with Miss Champneys—with Dolly? I mean," lie went on awkwardly. " I mean before I—l talk to you? Don't you understand?" Mrs. Champneys smiled at him archly. "Dolly, poor child," she said, "is very rattled and upset. She is lying down in her room. lam quite worried about her. You see she has been through a very trying ordeal this morning. Poor Brian Stanfordof courso you've heard the dreadful news?

"So sad, so terribly sad and sudden," Mrs Champneys went on and recounted the whole occurrence, meanwhile a maid brought in tea and dainty sandwiches and pastries, the very sight of which caused Tony, in his present mood, a feeling of positivo nausea. The Erglish ritual of tea proceeded, and Mrs. Champneys chatted on unceasingly. "Of course," she said, suddenly, apropos the subject) uppermost in both their minds, "of course, my dear Mr. Rawson, we know nothing at all about you. You are really quite a stranger. Now, aren't you? Confess it." She beamed alt him, and then shook her head in mocked severity. "You may make a good husband for our little girl. On the other hand" she glanced at him coyly— "on the other hand you may not. Art you quite certain in your mind about it? Are you quite— sure? Do you' really want to marry Doily?" "Yes," he said with dramatic suddenness, "I want it above everything else on earth. But I can't." "Can't? W-why?" stammered Mrs. Champneys, altogether taken aback. "Because," he said, "I have reason to believe that Jack Vicars is alive and may shortly return to claim her as his wife." But as soon as Tony had spoken he regretted it. It sounded so futile, and yet so brutal. He had intended to do this in such a different fashion. Then, to add to his discomfiture, who should appear but Dolly herself, looking pale and distressed. Had she heard? How long had she been in the room? Tony rose and went to meet her. Mrs. Champneys suddenly discovered that sho must rush away and keep a forgotten telephone appointment. She gave Tony a swift, inscrutable look, a look of warning that seemed to say: " Keep what youi have fold me to yourself. Don't distress Dolly just now." What Mrs. Champneys actually said was: Excuse my running away for a few moments. Mr. Rawson. I have just remembered a moat important telephone engagement. I will be back in a minute or two- Meanwhile, Dolly will look after you." The door closed behind her. and Dolly and Tony found themselves staring rather blankly into each other's eyes. Dolly, relieved the situation at once " I heard what you said to mother,"- sho said. "I couldn't help it; but perhaps it was just as well." She spoke in a subdued little voice. " What does it mean, Tony." Then he tried to explain ; but it was quite hopeless. He showed her the telegram. He told her about Velvet going over to France. He half-heartedly defended himself at one moment and furiously lashed himself with contempt and scorn the next; and all the time he begged her to forgive him and to blot everything that had happened, and alt that ho had said to her, front her mind. He analysed the whole situation in a few jerky, emotional sentences. Jack was his life-long friend. Their's was a friendship likened only unto that of David and Jonathan. They had no secrets. They had complete' faith in each other. The thing was unthinkable. It was not to bo thought of for one moment that Jack should come back and find that his friend had stolen his wife. Such things might be done in this decadent modern post-war life, but it couldn't be done as far as he, Anthony Rawson, was concerned. " But," said Dolly, a little tremulously, " did not you realise all you say this morning?' _ Tony bowed his head in shame. " Yes, in a way," he answered; but somehow —I can't defend myself and I cannot explain myselfsomehow I had it in the back of my mind that poor old Jack was dead." " I," said Dolly, " never thought ne was dead. I thought I made that clear to you." "I know," he said miserably. "I am not'try in to excuse myself—l was carried away. Oh, Dolly, my dear, dear love, don't you understand?" Ho tried to take her hand, but she would not let him. " No, no," she said. " let me clearly understand first of. all. I am rather dazed. Forgive me. Is this the telegram that came when I was at Queen Anne's Gate?"

" Yes." , And that lias made this difference?" "Yes. It is difficult to explain: but. it suddenly brought me back to earth, as it •were, and made me realise things." " I see." "You do understand, don't you, Dolly?" " I understand," she said, in a hard, quiet, little voice, so unlike the Dolly of a few hours ago. " And you will forgive me?" "Forgive you?" .She laughed with well-affected * merriment. "Of course. What nonsense ' But you must admit that you had made me, made us both, if it comes to that, look pretty foolish. However, that's a mere detail. They are quite used to my making a fool of ray- | self. Well—that's' that. Now, let's talk of other and more congenial topics. Will you have some more tea?'' "I haven't had any tea and I don't want any," said Tony. " And I refuse to let you dismiss this matter in this airyfairy manner. You know the position 7 It is no good pretending that you don't understand. You are not an irresponsible child." " Perhaps I am," she said in that new, hard and unnatural voice. " I don't know. " But when Jack comes back, you—" " My dear Tony, don't be absurd. Jack is nothing to me now. It may be a shameful confession to make; but I am honest above all things. Of course I am glad that Jack is alive and that there is every prospect of his coming back to — by the way. I do hope to goodness you've done what he asks in. that telegrambut I shall take the first opportunity of telling him what I have told you. I am beginning to think I am an irresponsible child. Anyhow. I shall certainly not marry Jack. And, as I'm not to marry you, and as Brian Stanford is dead—well, who knows whom I shall marry. I don't care, anyway. I think men are atrocious creatures. They are the cause of all the trouble in this world." "Dolly!" Tony wanted to say so many things; but he 'could only say "Dolly." It was a protest, a pleti for understanding, a prayer for forgiveness. But Dolly had become that strange, intangible, aloof little person again. Whatever happened, she was not going to show her feelings. She was rather highly strung. This was a day charged with big, emotional crises. She seemed to have lived a life-time since breakfast this morning. • . • ,E© be continued on Monday nwt.)