HIS FINAL CHOICE.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXI, Issue 18895, 18 December 1924, Page 7

HIS FINAL CHOICE.

BY ARTHUR APPLIN.. Author of "The Greater Claim,' 4 "The Woman Who Doubted." "The Face on the Screen," etc., etc.

(Copyright.)

CHAPTER IV.—(Continued),

Half an hour after receiving Dysart's message, he was shown into Ma/isfold's private sitting room at the Ritz Hotel. Almost tho moment they met and shook hands they recognised one another. In Mansfold, Hippo saw a man who had wre-stled with nature, learnt and laid bare her secrets and had thereby built himself a great fortune. And in Carfax, Mansfold saw one who had wrestled with men, discovered their secrets, their strength, their ugliness and their beauty, and out of his knowledge built for himself man-control, and a rare strength and force of character. For a little while they talked of London and Buenos Ayrcs, of men known to both of them; of the voyage. Then Mansfold told old Hippo what had happened.

"Dysart wished you to know. Naturally, I was unwilling to tell a soul. But now we've met I'm glad, very glad. , , . Perhaps I'm wrong in living to keep it a secret, but in my heart I'm—afraid."

"One should never fear," Hippo grunted. "As for keeping it a secret, well—you have no suspicion why Lala disappeared '! You know of no reason?"

Mansfold shrugged his shoulders. "I still hope and pray it was just a mad freak. She's different from most girls, you know, When she was a child she was allowed to run wild. Hie blood of an English adventurer and a Spanish nobleman makes a strange mixture. Now, there's something I want you to tell me, Colonel Carfax. Last night Dysart said he was at a place called the '03 Club, that a girl came in in the early hours of the morning so exactly like Lala that for a moment he thought it must be she. You saw her';"

"Yes. She certainly bore a strange resemblance to the photographs I've seen of your daughter. That's all I can say." "Was she alone ?"

"No. I didn't pay much attention to the man who was with her. Dysart said he looked like a bounder, ho was probably right." Mansfold closed his eyes for a moment. The muscles of his face contracted. Watching him, Hippo longed to question, but he realised the severe mental strain under which Mansfold was suffering and held his tongue. "Would it be possible to find this girl, do you think?" Hippo raised his eyebrows, rubbing his moustache thoughtfully. "Well yes, nothing's impossible if one puts one's shoulder to the wheel. Yes, I'll trace her somehow. But you don't —" "I just want to find her," Mansfold interrupted. "I want tinoeet her. But it must be done without any publicity. You will have to go to work carefully. And if you do find her we must meet in some quiet, out of the way place, where there will be no chance of my being recognised." Carfax screwed up his eyes. He did not like mystery, but he know he could trust Mansfold. "Supposing this girl is your daughter, she may get suspicious and bolt,"

We must find means to prevent that." Carfax rose, "Very well, I had better get to work at once. I hope you will lunch with me at my club. It's getting on for one o'clock now."

"Thanks," Mansfold replied, "I don't think we can afford to waste time. I have a pretty busy day before me. I am glad we have met" and very glad I've told you. If you can find this girl you may be doing me an invaluable service—and Dysart, too. . . . He's a fine fellow, Dysart. You must try and save him whatever has happened to Lala. And remember, Colonel Carfax ? if you trace this girl let me know immediately. Get me on the 'phone. But don't mention my namo to her." He smiled as he shook Hippo's hand. "A drowning man will catch at a straw. It's almost impossible Lala. can have got to London before me—but if it turned out to bo she

"That's all right, I understand," Carfax grunted. "If I once find her she shan't e&cape until you've seen her."

CHAPTER V.

After leaving the Ritz Hotel, Carfax went round to Dysart's rooms. The servant who answered Hie door told him that Sir Vane had left some forty minutes previously. He expected Colonel Carfax to call, and had left a letter for hira in his sitting room. Carfax found the letter, and throwing himself into an armchair opened it. Before doing so he lit a pipe. He was feeling slightly ruffled. Adventure appealed to him, and mystery—where it did not threaten the honour and happiness of those he loved. Tho mystery of tho disappearance of the Argentine Kin£.'daughter involved both the honour and happiness of young Dysart. Carfax had hidden his feelings and any emotion he felt from Mansfold. Habit, the result of years of self-control. Moreover in the very modern and luxurious surroundings of the Ritz Hotel the story sounded improbable. The girl had disappeared of course—got off the ship at Cherbourg and been accidentally left behind. Might havo hidden herself on board, prompted by some whim or freak—women were such splendidly eccentric and unreliable creatures—Old Hippo blessed them—in spite of the misery and trouble they often caused, they really made life worth living. Because a few of them snapped their fingers at civilisation and convention. Human volcanoes, that's what they were, unexpectedly throwing smoke and fire and golden stars up to heaven: surely enouch dust, and ashes came down, but while the eruption lasted it was a goodly sight. Hippo waited until he got his pipe, well under way before reading Dysart's letter, turning over in his mind all the things that might have happened to Lala. Anything might happen to a girl with a name like that. If only he had met her ho would havo found the problem easier to solve. Dysart had never told him much about her. " Quite unlike any other woman; dangerous but delightful." " A creature of moods. Highly temperamental." Well, she would be, v.-ith the blood of a Spanish noblewoman and an English adventurer!

On the mantelpiece facing Hippo was her photograph. He picked it up and studied it. Certainly there was a remarkable likeness to the girl at the '03 Club. Only apparently Lala had masses of hair . . . and therm was something about her mouth, something Hippo din not quite like—perhaps the camera had been unkind. He dropped back into his seat and read Dvsart's letter. "Just off. I can't stop in London kicking my heels and doing nothing. Sorry I couldn't be frank over the 'phone, but If you can help me I know you will. I'm you know and understand everything now. fearfully sorry for the old man and Mrs. Mansfold. Apparently it was almost impossible for Lala to have reached London last night, and, even had she, would she have rushed straight off to the '03 Club? . . . I know it's impossible. All the same, I wish you would try and find that girl, discover her identity. After all I'm sure its only one of Lala's mad freaks, and I quite expect to find her with her mother at Southampton when 1 arrive. Yours, ever, Vane." Carfax tore the letter up into small pieces threw them into the waste paper basket. He heard Big Ben chime the hour from Westminster —half past one. Going out, he took a cab back to his rooms and changed, putting on a roigh tweed suit, soft shirt and collar and an old velour hat. Ho jumped into an omnibus that took him to Piccadilly Cirvus and from there walked to Wardour Street. Since he had to eat somewhere a Soho cafe was as good a place as any. Moreover, the unknown and beautiful girl whom it was his duty to find as quickly as possible would, he

instinctively knew, bo more-likely to ba found in this quarter than anywhere else — whether she was the daughter of tho South American millionaire or some humble little worker—dressmaker, model, actress, or even a tourist seeing the sights. Ho chose the Gourmet Restaurant, partly because it was French, also because they cooked an excellent dish of mussels and made perfect? coffee. Carfax's tastes were cosmopolitan. Moreover, he believed that a wise man considered his own stomach.

He enjoyed his luncheon which lasted until nearly three o'clock because he smoked many cigarettes, watching the people who came and went, occasionally staring through the window, near which he sat, into the street. A little dressmaker's shop opposito attracted his attention, because through the open door he saw two dark-haired girls who might have been French or Spanish. They did not seem to bo doing much business, but they took life lightly enougii, dancing out on the pavement now and then to look at their shop window, to joke with a passerby. "After paying his bill Hippo made his way to the* '03 Club. Of course, it was closed, it did not open to its "Members" until 10 o'clock at night. Ha tried the outer door but it was locked. Tha bell was long since out of action, so he hammered with his stick.

There was no reply, so ho knocked again. A policeman on the other side of tho road watched him suspiciously. Presently, the door opened a couple of inches and the diminutive waiter who had served him the previous evening peered at him. He was wearing a dirty blue overall; his shirt sleeves were rolled up above his elbow. " What do you want?" " If Madame is here I would like to speak to hey." " I'll see," the youth replied. " What name ?" " Hippo, Old Hippo," Carfax grinned. ** She'll know that." Presently Madame came, wearing a whito apron over her black dress, looking a little surprised and dishevelled. " Good' afternoon, Colonel. But we don't open till tho evening, you know!" " Of course I know," he laughed. " but I just chanced finding you here. I want yon to do me a favour, will you ?" "Me! Do you a favour. You're joking." " Joking," ho grunted. " I'm in love. Isn't thai serious enough ? " She led the way to the office, pulled forward a chair which she dusted, and told him to sit down. He remained standing.

" I shan't keep you a moment." He glanced round to make sure he would not bo overheard. The diminutive waiter, assisted by a huge, ungainly charwoman, was sweeping out the lounge. The chairs and tables were piled one on top of the other. The air which a few hours ago had been thick with tobacco smoke, heavy with perfume, and quivering with music, was now charged with dust that drifted like a fog. A stale pungent perfume assailed his nostrils. Madame, watching him, read his thoughts. "It is not fair to como in here when we are cleaning up. Ah, but it is a hard life. Sometimes I grow weary."

"If life isn't hard it's dull. Now look here, Madame, yon know me; I think you know I'm to be trusted—not a fool or a knave, I mean." Madame smiled. All men were fools or knaves. Still, she smiled. Whatever the Colonel was sho liked him.

" I saw a girl here last night; unusual type. She iuterested me. Frankly, sho reminded me of someone I want to meet. Can you help me ? " Madame spread out her hands \vith a little foreign gesture. " I know who you mean." She• described her. "It is the first time feho has been here. I think she is a stranger. I know nothing about her; but even if I did, how coula I tc4J you, Colonel ? "

Carfax scrcwed up his eyes. Madame's reply made him feel he was not playing the game. "Of course you coudn't tell mo under ordinary conditions. But you must know I'm not asking for any — frivolous reason. I'm very anxious to meet her, I may be of great service to her. Can you tell me her name or the name of the man she was with?"

Madame hesitated a moment, then sho opened one of her books and looked at the counterfoils where members registered the names of their guests. " Perhaps it would not bo wrong of me to tell you the name of the member who brought her. He doesn't often come hero: Paul Lamotte, an artist. I think he is a sculptor." _ • . " Can you give mo his address ? " Carfax asked quickly. Madame glanced at the book and put it away. " I don't know it," she said, smiling as sho spoke. " Even if I did it would not be right, of roe to give it. I hope you understand, Colonel." M Nor the lady's name? " " She was a- guest. A stranger. As you know sometimes quito famous people come here and dance. They wouldn't like their names disclosed, perhaps. Human nature is a strange thing, Colonel." ; ■ Csrfax nodded. " You are quite right, Madame. If I were ih your position I" should act just as you have done. Well, thanks very much." Ho held out his hand. " We shall see you again ? " she said, accompanying him to,the door, and opening it. " Oh, ves, I daresay I shall look in tonight. I can't dance,"but I like to watch. The '03 has an atmosphere of its own, Madame. I compliment you." He walked slowly down the street, his head thrown back, his eyes on the sky. It was a glorious afternoon; all traces of the storm had gone, the wind had dropped to a gentle breeze, the sun shone powerfully. He went into tho Cafe Royal and drank a liquer brandy. How to find Paul Lamotte! This was the sort of jplace he would patronise. And if tho girl happened to be an artist's model, she was as likely as not to come here, too. Artists seldom worked late in the afternoon. At five o'clock the cafe began to fill up. Strange types of humanity drifted in. Nearly every nationality seemed represented, all the liberal professions and some doubtful ones. At six o'clock Carfax went home. He found a telegram from Dysart: "Arrived. Glad I came, but no news." Carfax ate a chop at his club, and while ho smoked a cigar in the library he searched the London Directory and the Court Guide for Lamotte's name, but without success. Then he looked .up tho names and addresses of the different -art clubs and schools ia .London. At eleven o'clock lie made his way to the Club in Gerrard Street, and sat in the loossge smoking innumerable pipes and drinking innumerable cups of coffee, until, at two o'clock in the morning, unable to his eves open any longer, he went home. Ho* had not expected that either Lamotte or his beautiful companion would appear at the Night Club again, but there was just a chance, and it was the only place lie knew where he might find a clue. . . lie lunched with Mansfold in his sittingroom at the Ritz Hotel next day. -Unfold was looking worn and ill; he had heard no news. He was more determined than ever to keep his daughter s disappearance a secret. (To be continued dailr-)