SHORT STORY.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LX, Issue 18585, 18 December 1923, Page 16

SHORT STORY.

THE LOWS PRICE. BT PERCY JAMES BKEBNEB. " (Copyright). . - ' At a small sale in Kensington , that afternoon, among some rubbish, Wilfred Sutton had secured two coveted pieces of china for ap old song, and was walking back across the park, well pissed with himself, when Isaacson, the Bond Street dealer, overtook him. Isaacson was a trial at all times, but by no means a man so offend. By the time they had crossed tbo park he had nearly bor Sutton to tears, and then quite unconsciously be tucceeded in interesting him immensely. " Lady Lexton," he said, glancing at a well appointed motor which emerged slowly from a block in the traffic. .• "And tho girl with her?" Sutton asked. "An eye for beauty, eh Sutton? That is Honour Bramsley, only child of the eccentric baronet you know. You have heard of Sir George?" Yes, but ntvor seen him." "Mad," said Isaacson. "Whenever his daughter thinks it her duty to stay with him she has a rotten time, I am told. I tried to «1o business with him once, but never again. The very way he looks .it jou is an insult. Oh, that is your Way, is it? Well, come and look me up when you have anything worth my attention." Sutton was glad.to get rid cf him. He wanted to think, and not about the china ho had just got at- such a bargain. Only a -week ago he had returned from a holiday in Devonshire. He- had gone there a whole-hearted man, ho had come back, if not an accepted lover, a very hopeful one. The. girl had been at the hotel vhen he arrived, and had become ' a favourite with everybody. He was a lonely man, and without actually saying so she bad given tho impression there was no one with any right to interfere in her actions. Under such circumstances friendship ripens quickly, and a Devonshire lane within nound of the sea is surely a place made expressly for lovers. Sutton found it so, and there was an answering echo in the girl's heart, but she would give him no definite answer. He had been obliged to re-

turn to town three days before she did, but she had sent him back a happy man by promising to write to him on her return. The letter had come that morning making an appointment for the following a!iernoon at some tea-rooms in Bond Street, and just now he had seen . her in Lady Lexton's motor. Of course he knew her name was Honor Bramsley. but he had not associated her with the eccentric S{r George. She had not mentioned her father, she had not said a word to indicate that she moved in an exclusive society in London. With the eyes of love he had seen she was different from other women, but he had not supposed she was •of that world with which his relations were chiefly business ones. .

Sutton lived in Bernera Street, where his father had lived before him. The name "Sutton"' was on a ' small . brass plate, and for many years collectors had knocked at that front door if they were seeking some article of vertu,";. or knowledge as to its whereabouts. . Old Sutton's knowledge had • been wide, and in some directions profound. J|r|ras quite likely the very article wanted would be found in his possession, but it was not at all certain he would part with it. He had been collecting as a hobby, and meeting with financial reverses, had used his knowledge with ' excellent results. He had made a fortune by dealing in art treasures, but he was connoisseur rather than tradesman, and his love for a thing had constantly proved v far stronger than his desire for gain. Wilfred Sutton had inherited his fortune, but he had continued the business, preserving its . traditions, and enjoying the excitement of it. . He had. never thought. of giving it up, but to-night he was . troubled. Sir George would not think of Rim as a son-in-law, and it was unlikely that Honor, with traditions behind her, would run counter to her father's wishes. He could not doubt that love had come to her, but it had come suddenly, unexpectedly, and on reflection she wotild realise i the impossibility of the situation. No doubt this is what she would tell him to-morrow when they met. At least, it was brave of her to meet him, and . tell him, rather than put it in a letter. He had come to this conclusion ' when the bell rang, and his housekeeper announced a visit sr. - ( "I must apologise for so late a call," •aid the stranger. "Only to ?day I have heard "of a kindred spirit, and I cannot rest uutil I have made his acquaintance. 1 '

. * Sutton, motioned him to a chair. *-"I am glad to see you, Mr. " % /; "Martindale." ' '*■ "Mr. Martindale. From whom did you ■ hoar of me?" "It was the casual remark of,a dealer. •'lsaacson, I suppose, "That is the man. You and I are I birds of a feather, Mr. Sutton. I buy to sell again, and then fall in love with my treasures and cannot sell them. You j love china, I see. It is also my passion." : "I have just bought these," Sutton said, pointing to the two pieces on the table. Ah! —very nice." •Sutton watched him as he examined them. He was always wary with strangers, and the lateness of this call from a stranger was extraordinary." "Verv nice," Martindale said again, but with no enthusiasm. "Do you sell?" "At a price." "Ah, I know, the lover's price. lam too old a. hand to deal at that figure. May I look round your room "Do. lam not in love with everything I" possess, but when you talk of china you .touch my heart." . "Are" those mended plates of any . value ?" Martindale asked, coming to the side table upon which Sutton had put the rubbish contained in the lot he had bought that afternoon. "I am not sure. I have put them aside for further study." .."You will waste your time. And this?" Martindale said, picking up the ill-shaped vase and turning it about in his hands. "I have an idea that is valuable," said Sutton, with a view to testing his visitor's knowledge. "I should not be surprised," was the answer as he replaced the vase. "The right man will come along, and you will get a good price if you keep it. I am going to be a little outspoken, Mr. Sutton, candid criticism from an old man to a. young one. I understand your father had a profound knowledge of art trea'i! 113 son no doubt is an enthusiast as 60 great, 6 " was ' but his knowledge is not . ,^ R » R tiH learning." • ,f n ® x P l3 _nsive experience, Mr. .much rubbigi> u £ yo , are aware how to buy my y H have here. I have had iny pocket 52 a - have lightened china "—and oerably m doing so. Your " i?ith£,«rT M * d , hi » Angersperhaps those two little * take, excßr>t " . on the table. '* , v e pieces you have . -Did Isaacson !#, that afternoon and had mVIv?- had bought |_ get it

" It is not because they are really valuable," : Martindale went on, " but only because they please me. I have scores 01 similar pieces." ' ;• ; •_ '■ " Scores like these Sutton exclaimed. " Certainly. They are' not worth showing :in my general collection and are packet] away in a basement room. I am sorry to disillusion yon, but when your lovwr'a price has become a reasonable one, I should not mind having them. I am not crazy about them, but we all have our fads."

"And our follies, too," laughed Sutton. " Being 'too clever is a folly, Mr. Martindale. Let me assure you there is very little rubbish in this room, and what I do not know about this kind of china is hardly worth knowing. Someone has been pulling your leg." Isaacson, perhaps. I very much doubt if you have any genuine piece to match these two I have on the table. I am perfectly certain you haven t scores." . ,-. ' . " You may easily prove it, said Martindale carelessly. "My house is in Bruton Street. A walk may do you good. The house in Bruton Street was in darkness, except for a light in the hail. Maitindale opened the door with a latch key. , "First to convince you of the truth of my statement, then, I will show you niv leal collection, tho things I am proud

° Al thfl end of a stone passage Martindale opened a door, the key of which was in the lock. It opened into an empty cellar, in one wall of which was another door. To open thin Martindale took a key from his pocket. The door was thick and heavy. : . "This doss not look as if you considered the china in here rubbish," laughed Sutton, touching the door as it swung open. •'I do not think it rubbish exactly. I should not be willing to buy more of it if I did. As I shall hope to convince you presently I do not think it worthy of tho re.it of my collection, that is all. There is a g.is jet at the further end. Can you see your way? Mind that case on the right." A hand was laid on Sutton s shoulder to warn him of the case, and the next moment ho was stumbling over a box just in front of him. There was a sudden puff of air, then darkness. The candle had been blown out.

"Shall I hold it while you light up again?" asked Si'tton, stretching out h ; hand. There was no answer out of the blackness. Martindale must be still in >he outer cellar. Outside! There was 501110 thing in the idea which quickened Sutton into immediate action. "Martindale! Martindale!" he called sharply, and the echo instantly shouted the name back to him. It was not a step to the door. It was shut—locked !" For"*« few moments Sutton's mind was a blank, darkness was in his brain as it was about him, and then he awoke to a realisation of his folly._ A hand had not merely bean laid on his shoulder, it had pushed nirr. forward. The whole thing had been carefully planned and he haa walked into a trap. Too late he knew that his suspicions ought to have been aroused half a dozen times by Martindole's behaviour. No doubt he was already hurrying back to Bemers Street, intent on getting what ho coveted. W pat was it he wanted? For what treasure wn " it worth while perpetrating such a crime as this? It was a crime, it was not me ely a trick. He was in the cellar of a house in Bruton Street. Martindale had opened the door with a latchkey, he was familiar with the premises, it must be his house. Sutton sat down again, marvelling at. his folly. What had induced him to fall in with Martindale's suggestion so easily ? He was not usually such a fool either in his L judgment of men or in his dealings with - them. Was it something in Martindale's face which had appealed to him ? The darkness began to weigh upon his eyelids presently. It. was pleasant to close his . eyes. He was tired. It would be an excellent thing to sleep. He found a box in a corner, got into as comfortable a position as possible, and was soon out of prison. He was in the ' country, in a Devonshire lane, and he was not alone. The world was full of the future, full of the anticipation of love. "Wilfred! Wilfred!"

It was a strange dream, indeed. In a square of light stood Honor Bramsley, Honor as he had never seen her before, a vision in shimmering white silk, neatly concealed under a black cloak, Honor with a candle in her hand and a star of diamonds in her hair. .. . " Wilfred she said, bending over him. He started up, rubbing his eyes. . "Honor! Why—" . " Thank Heaven nothing worse has happened," she said. "I was terribly afraid. Come quickly. Leave the door." For a moment Sutton thought he was still dreaming. How could Honor possibly be there ? How was it she was able to open his prison? - In silence he followed her idong a stone passage and up the stairs.

"In here, she said, leading the way into a room at the back of the house.

" My dear, how is it— She held up a finger for silence. Someone was putting a key into the front door. Honor pointed to a chair, which Sutton took, and still with her finger held up to command silence, she pushed the door to, but did not latch it. She was listening intently. The nail door opened and closed, there was a shuffle of feet, and then Honor stepped back, standing erect immediately in front of Sutton, as if to protect him. The next moment Martindale entered the room. Seeing the girl he stopped short, a look of astonishment in his eye®. - You here! At this time of night! What for?"

Without a word she stepped back ahd he was face to face with Wilfred Sutton.

He started, and perhaps it was his chance of position and the different angle at Which the light fell on him which made his face look so grey. He was wearing a loose overcoat, his left arm so held as to bunch the coat up on one side. After a short silenec he began to laugh. "A good joke, wasn't it? I am afraid I am rather given to practical jokes. It is a bad habit of mine. I must reform."

"A joke!" Sutton exclaimed, rising from his chair. "I think you will have ;ome difficulty in proving it a joke. But for this lady—" "No, no. you are mistaken," Martindale said quickly. "Your haste to deny only accuses you. What is it you have " been back to *my house, to steal?" "Steal "Yes, sir, steal. You are carrying it under your coat now." "Steal ! Nonsense. Tell him, Honor, that I am given to practical joking." Honor. Why did he call her by her name? Sutton looked from the man to the girl. "Wilfred, this is my father," she said quietly. Sir George smiled as if the .whole matter had been explained, and that there was nothing more to be said. All his interest was centred in the treasure concealed under his coat. Sutton's astonishment was suddenly absorbed by ■ the possibilities of the situation. Now he knew why his visitor's face had appealed to him. .There was a distinct likeness between father and daughter. "I had better explain how it is I am here," said Honor. "I came to town to stay with Lady Lexton, and this morning I came here to see my father and tell him all about you." "Preposterous ! Perfectly absurd said Sir George. "A Bramsley and a tradesman."

"That was •my father's . attitude this morning, and I had no idea that behind it there was a determination to visit you and trick you. I presume that is "what he has done. To-night I have ibeen dining with friends', and fortunately, as it happens, I left et.rly. As the motor was held up for a moment at the top of Bond Street, I saw you and my father together. I was astonished, but it was not till I got back to ' Lady Lexton's that my astonishment turned to apprehension. Half angry with myself; for having foolish fears I took a taxi-cab and came here. I have a latch-key. and I found the house empty." "As I was going to be in all the evening I let the housekeeper and his wife go out," f>ir George explained. ' When I found the house empty I felt something. must be wrong/' Honor went ion. "On this table I found some keys, the key of the strong room amongst them, I They suggested—"

"Exactly," - Sir . George said. "They. moire than suggested, they proved a practical joke." : •'•'♦Wr'.t* ; j " "That is how I found you, Wilfred. "It suddenly occurred to me to see for ' myself the man who had had the impu- | dence to make love to my daughter, said j Sir George. "I came to Bemers Street ana to my astonishment saw—". "I know. : A lot of rubbish, Sutton returned. ' "May I see / what particular piece of rubbish you have taken?" "My joke has been spoilt. By the way, I should get a new housekeeper if I were you, Sutton. She ought not to have believed me when I said I had some back for something for you. A scoundrel might rob you that way. Of course that isn t really my affair. So I brought the thing here and intend to buy it at a' fair price. I hava two already, but I want the third to complete the set. Of course, your single piece is practically valueless, you must understand that. I am not paying a lover's price for it, but I am prepared to pay more than anyone ©Is© would. Dealers are all the same. If you had known'l wanted it, it would not have been for sale, or—" lh . , . • , „ ._ "It was worth kidnapping me for, said Sutton, "and it is not certain that you would not have gone further to hide the theft. You "Really, Sittton, you—' "It will make a nasty story, altogether, Sir George, and I doubt if your social position will help you much. Let me see what you have got." From under his overcoat Sir George slowly produced the crude, ill-shaped vase which Sutton had put on the shelf as rub"That!'' he exclaimed in astonishment. "I must have it," said Sir George. Sutton glanced at Honor. "No money in the world will buy that," J he said. . I "I will have it. I must have it. 1 "I tell you no money in the world will buy it." . "It will. How much do you want? It is rubbish to you, but how much do you want? "Give it back to me." "No," and then in a pleading tone Sir George went on; "I must have it, Sutton." "Then tell your daughter she has your full consent* to marry tho man she chooses."

"Marry you ! Never." "That is my price, the lover's price." "It is absurd. All London would laugh at me." "All London is likely to be too serious to laugh at. you, Sir George. Ido not believe in your joke, nor will anyone else, in spite of your well known eccentricities. At the price I name you can buy —that treasure, and my belief, too." "Preposterous! A Bramsley and a

"Then there is nothing for me to do but call in the police." "The police!" "That is the alternative, Sir George." "I must have this," and Sir George hugged the vase. "And I love your daughter." "Would you have me sell her for this ?" "Yon were willing to commit a crime for it," said Sutton. Sir George looked at the vase. "Talking of your daughter and that vase in the same breath makes me hate bargaining," said Sutton. "I am a rich man. When I marry I intend to give up dealing." "That does make a difference, doesn't it, Honor. You - are not much at home, and there must be quite a lot of people who hardly know I have a daughter." "Do you consent, Sir George?" "It is absurd,, but I must have this vase. I suppose you must do as yon like. It is late, Honor, you ought to be getting back to Lady Lexton's." "I will take her back in a taxi," said Sutton.

"I suppose there is no harm in that as she is foolish enough to marry you. Good-night. I \v®n't keep you any longer. Some time or other I suppose Honor will bring you to our place in Sussex. A Bramsley and a—but in time I suppose it will be forgotten that you were ever a dealer. By the way, Sutton, when you give up tnere .are one or two things of yours ... I will come round one afternoon and show you the things I want. Good-night." Before they were out of the house Sir George had taken two other ill-shaped vases from a cabinet, and was gloating over his set of three.

"Your father is more than eccentric, Honor," Sutton said, in the taxi "I am afraid so. We shall have to look after him a little."

"Has (he anything of value fin his collection

"Of course he has— valuable. What makes you ask such an absurd question ? His collection is well known."

"That vase he took from me is worth nothing, absolutely nothing. If ,he can value such a thing as that it means that he has lost touch, that he is a little "Mad?" she asked. "I am afraid so." "We must humour him and take care of him, Wilfred." "We will, dearest. To-night I feel a cheat."

; "Why?" "For making him pay the lover's price." (The End.)