INTO THE MISTS.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXIII, Issue 19376, 10 July 1926, Page 5 (Supplement)

INTO THE MISTS.

BY E. PHILLIPS OPPENHEEM.

CHAPTER Vl.—(Continued.} Rhodes produced a pipe from his pocket, and with a glance at her as though asking permission, commenced to fill it. "You arc a Watson of Intelligence," he declared. "I am, alas, a detective in real life, and infallibility is not my heritage. I can't simply write this case down as ono of my failures and go on with something else. They wouldn't tolerate it at tho Yard. So hero I am, and you probably know why." "I think I know," sho admitted. "I am trying to nso what little imagination I have been granted, instead of such skill as I may have acquired. That is what you meant when I saw you at the corner of St. James' Street, wasn't it 1" "Precisely." sho assented. "Very well, then " he continued, "we must neglect facts and probabilities. We will say that he wilfully aud deliberately choso to disappear." "I am waiting," Judith said quietly. "Middleton, the keeper, stopped for a few minutes, as was perfectly natural, in tho butler's pantry—-tho butler's pantrv or the housekeeper's room, I forgot which —but he would naturally accept some slight hospitality and discuss the morrow's sport before ho left. Ernest walks calmly down this passage, crosses tho courtyard unseen, and proceeds along this back drive. If he wero in any way the subject of coercion, he would no doubt nave been transported into a closed car wh\ch would have been waiting in this road, rough though it is. If on the other hand he was bent on a voluntary expedition, can't you seo what ho would dol He would cross tho lane, cross that stile opposite, cross that single triangular meadow, and find himself on the main road—the main road, that is to say, from Norwich to London. The road into which the lane leads is, as of course you know, a good and a much-travelled road from Fakenham to Holt, but it does not bisect tho London road for another three miles. Having soared a little inio

fancy to bridge over a gap, I will now come down to realities. -The great-bulk' of our police inquiries were directed toward the possible existence of a closed car upon the Fakenham road, or any sort of a vehicle which might conceal the results of an abduction. Now I am going on a different thesis. I have a little twoseater in the village, and I am going to motor slowly up to London from the other side of that meadow, probably taking about a week-on the journey. I shall make inquiries at every place* I pass, but shall inquire about a two-seater car, or at any rate an open one, containing a young man and probably an older one who were apparently in no hurry, and who were on the best of terms. If I fail again I shall return here and work toward Norwich." There was a long silence. Presently there came an interruption. A bell from the stable yard commenced to ring out its noisy summons. "For me," she explained. "That means visitors. I must go." "Well ?" he asked a little anxiously, for he was beginning to have a curious feeling, almost a superstition with regard to this very beautiful young woman. "You have made a start," she admitted. "You have shown that you, too, have vision of a sort, but it seems to me I don't know. lam terribly confused myself, but it seems to me that you'll have to wander even a little further from the usual ways before the light comes." She turned away and hurried down the drive. Rodes looked after her contemplatively. A rabbit came out of his hole and sat watching him a few yards away. "What I should like to know," Rodes muttered, his eyes now fixed upon the rabbit, "is whether she suspects anything or whether she is just spooky." The rabbit suddenly detected the odour of tobacco, and with a whisk of his tail disappeared. Bodes was left to face the problem alone. CHAPTER VII. Frederick Amberleys with his two sisters and a brother officer were waiting on the lawn when Judith returned. For the remainder of the day the atmosphere of horror which had chilled the household seemed lifted. There was tennis to the point of exhaustion, an adjournment to the swimming baths—one of the modern luxuries of the place—iced drinks, a car despatched to Holt for clothes and an improvised dinner party. Judith felt sincerely grateful to her suitor as they all sat outside under the cedar trees, drinking their coffee and watching the moon make its slow appearance over the dark fir spinneys. "I absolutely decline to be left alone with you this evening," she warned him. " See about some bridge at once, please." " I shall do nothing, of the sort," he declared. " You encourage me to; hope that you will play up to your part as a heroine of romance and invite me to walk in the rose garden. What about it, Judith ?" " I certainly shall not For; one thing it is far too obvious. There is one corner where the path drops and there is a great clump of those moss roses, all mixed up with musk and verbena—a corner which you couldn't possibly pass without proposing to me." " Please,' - Ii& beggfxL iioMing out his "hand, ~

(COP rill GUT).

k-lie looked at him far too appraisinglv or the moment and tho circumstances, in tae dim light ho semed to have lost something of that robustness, that almost amniul vigour as a rule repellent to her more critical instincts. His face evert seemed to have gained that touch of spirituality which she bad often looked tor ux vain, lbs eyes were pleading, lias manner anxious. He was very much m earnest. Hesitatingly she placed her hand m his, and felt herself drawn to her leet by a gentle but invincible force. I'redenck and I are going to have our usual halt'-an-hour's flirtation," she warned the others. "We shall bo back lor bridge, directly." They passed across the lawn, through a postern gate, through the square walled garden into a smaller and less rigidlv kept enclosure where the walls were oven older and more crumbling and the genius ot a gardener, who was also something ot an artist, had permitted a certain amount of riot. There were borders of old-fashioned flowers, whose perfume was pungent but sweet; a sort of heady background to the more exotic odour of the roses. Judith laid her fingers upon her companion's coat sleeve. " You don't know how grateful I am to you people for coming over this afternoon, frederick. It was an experiment coming down here, of course, and it was on the point of turning out a ghastlv I failure." " j " I couldn't havo kept away. It was so lucky we wore at Holt for a week.' lon must all come over and lunch with us to-morrow and we'll have, some more tennis." It will be salvation," she murmured. He, stole a glance at her, and her still, subtle beauty went to his head. He lost coherency. " Judith," ho said. " you'll have to marry me some day. Why not soon?" " I don't want to marry." "But yon must," he pleaded. "You can't go on living at home for over. You told me once you were afraid of losing your individuality. You're more likely to lose it in Park Lane than in Mayfair with me. I shouldn't play the "oldfashioned sort of husband. You can develop in your owa way, strike out your own line—l shan't interfere. But I'm fonder of you, Judith, than I ever expected to be of anyone in my life. Be kind to mo, dear!" " I want to be kind to you, Frederick," she said earnestly, " but think. We're ever so different in many ways. There is mv race," " Dear, what does it matter ?" he interrupted. " Those sort of prejudices have gone long ago." " Perhaps. And yet remember my people have their own peculiar characteristics. I have all the temperament, the mysticism,, the moodiness of the Hebrew woman Sometimes I think that if I had lived two thousand years ago I should havo been a prophetess." " I know," he acknowledged humbly. " Everyone tells me that you have the makings of a great artist. Horthwaite says that you could bo a painter, and Mayer says the world has lost a great musician because you aro the daughter of a millionaire. But, dearest, you can look over the edge of the world as often and as long as you like, blow your bubbles and build your house of dreams wherever you will, but when your feet are on the earth, you must have a husband and I want to be him, ;; Yoji're almost irresistible," " The greatest thing in me is what comes from you," he declared. "My love for you." She suddenly paused and looked at him. His expression as' he gazed at her was almost adoring. A gleam of the moonlight shone m her smooth, black hair lbo marble whiteness of her cheeks, the ft ?' n er eyes, tho tender scarlet of her hps were all maddening. He took her suddenly into his arms, and she lifted ! ,C J, < i' a ' cl a , '? e ; Her eyes sought his, tenderly, ye* with a curious wistfulness Eiss me Frederick, please," she whispered, then I will tell you." The glamour of the night, the unearth--1 vf s ? L °f her beaut, y were his salvation. All tna.t even savoured of coarseness in ins virility seemed to pass away He held her to him, with a strength restrained by an intense tenderness, the lire of an almost sublimated passion burning upon his lips. She lay in hia arms for a moment like a long-stemmed beautiful flower which had just been plucked. Then without any warning she broke away. He heard a little sob caught a glimpse of her—a streak of white through the bushes—and still inspiration rested with him. He stayed where he was among the roses—contented.

There were bridge and billiards, much laughter and the usual amount of chaff that evening, and it was midnight bolero the cars were brought round. Then Judith sought her opportunity. She k#pt Frederick back after the others had made their adieux and, with her aim through his, led him to her mother. " Mother dear," she announced, " I'm going to marry Frederick. Dad, do you hear. Come and "shake hands with him. Now that you both know, the others can come back if they like." For a single moment Rachel seemed to return from the far-away world in which she had been living. She held out her hands, and Frederick stooped and kissed her forehead. " Judith has made mo very happy," be said. " Well, well!" Joseph declared, pulling down his waistcoat vigorously. "Is that Martin out there 1 Martin, send mo some champagne and glasses. Never mind about the whiskies and sodas, and the gout! Amberleys—Frederick—shake hands. My congratulations!" The others came streaming in and Judith was surrounded. Her father stood on the outside of the little circle, his hands in his pockets, an air of immense satisfaction pervading his whole being. " To tell the truth, mother," ho con* fided to his wife, "I was beginning to get just a little nervous about Judith—a trifle too exotic, she seemed sometimes. You know what I mean. Seemed positively to dislike the idea of marriage When a gir' has a brain like Judith's and gets that notion into her head, she sometimes ends by being a spinster. There have been two in our family already, God help them! Amberleys is a fine fellow, and with Judith's money—well, it will give you something to think about, mother, eh?" He looked anxiously down at her. She took the glass of wine which Martin was handing, and smiled bravely np at her husband. " We should be very happy about this, Joseph," she said, "We will drink to their future, you and I together. God has brought this to pas 3. He may yet save my heart from breaking." She drained her glass and set it down empty. Everyone was talking very noisily about the plans for to-morrow, and Joseph himself was being dragged into the council. Rachel stretched out her hand and took up the knitting which was always close to her side. Soon her fingers began to flash and the needles to gleam. She listened, apparently, to the conversation, but in spirit sho had already passed away, wandering across the world in that eternal search. CHAPTER VHL Judith, on the night of the dinner party in Park Lane, noticed her guest's slight hesitation after he had been announced, and, breaking off her conversation with Frederick Amberleys, stepped forward to meet him, " You aro looking for your hostess. X am sure, Sir Lawrence," she said. "My mother has given up entertaining for the present, and I am her deputy. We are very glad to see you." , Sir Lawrence made h;s bow and expressed his hope that Lady Houertou was not seriously " She is simply tared, " She finds tho season a s r joifc. "

" Except Lord Aiaberlsvs, when. r think, you brought with you to the works no one," ho- replied. Amberleys heard his name and turned around. Tlio two men exchanged greetings. ° " * gather from an announcement sn tho xunts the other day that I an; to congratulate \ou, Lord iVmbericys," tho newcomer said. "May I at t'ho ssntu time take the opportunity of wishing you every hapj-msbs, Lady Judith," ho added. " "Very cico ot you, but how can you expect me to be nappy whin I hivo u desire unsatisfied ?" " I can scarcely conceive such a nossibility." " Not although you arc responsible ?'" she reminded him. " Don't you know that you are one of the few people in tho world who have refused a request of mine ?" Ho looked for a moment blank, then he remembered. 41 l's that still• rankling ?" " Horribly," she admitted. Joseph camo up a little fussily. " Glad to see you, Sir Lawrocre. First time you've honoured us, I think—not that we shouldn't have asked you often enough if I'd had any idea you were diner out. Judith, as usual, was tho clever one of the family," "So I have you to thank for my invitation," he remarked, turning to her. "I call that returning good for evil." " The episode is not yet closed," sho warned him. a It was a dinner party of twelve- • a smaller number than usual at Judith'* initiative. Sir Lawroneo sat on her left band and Lord Clareton, an Irish peer and relative of Frederick's, on her right. Lady Clareton was on one. side <>f her father—a most satisfactory dinner for him» as she never left talking, hated ever*, to pause for an answer to her stream off questions, and was blessed with a marvellous appetite. Sirs. Lola Keistmaim* on his other side, was the * wife of ;i famous musician, dark, languishing, and entirely engrossed in a flirtation with Henry Fernham, who was over on ;t week's leave from Paris to make tho acquaintance of his sister's fiancee. Then there was lteistmann himself," noisy, hungry and witty, continually seeking for opportunities to talk to Judith across the table, Joyce Clonghtou, one of Judith's few intimate acquaintances, and Sir Philip Dane, a very famous physician and medical , adviser in ordinary to tho family. It was a party of friends deliberately "chosen by Judith after Paule's acceptance <>£ , her invitation, a party which was meant to give her considerable freedom with regard to the entertainment of this one , guest. Everything had turned out as she had intended, but the enterprise had saddenly lost its savour. She was conscious of a marked indisposition to cross tho 1 boundary of the light outposts of conversation with Sir Lawrence. She had realised from the first that her ordinary weapons would be useless against this man, and sho was inclined to shirk a combat of personalities. There was something almost saturnine in his easy iridifferenco to the demands which courtesy made upon Mm. Tho woman on his left —Lady Dane, carefully chosen as being a person who very. much preferred her dinner to conversation—found him a mostsatisfactory companion. Indirectly ho challenged Judith's silence. " I am still in disgrace, I fear, for preserving the secrets of my Bluebeard's chamber. "If you realise the cause, it is a 6 least open to you to removo it." " -At any time," ho assented, " when you come alone." " Unchaperoned, without my fiancee V' " Entirely alone." " Ihe adventure ;s beginning to assumei a new aspect," she declared. " Someone must have told yon that I had a ilaiv fo»' t doing improper things." " I needed no gousip to assure me that you were in the habit of doing daring ones," he retorted. " What risks shall I run if I conic alon® to your magic chamber V she asked. " If I answered that question the ad* venture would cease to be one." " I am..wry strongly tempted." "You stand the least clianco of being ' blown up on Wednesday or Thursday, . he said. "My housekeeper makes tea. about four o'clock;" " It all seems very easy," she remarked, " Beally, I needn't have taken the trouble to have you asked to dinner, need I?" "Quite unnecessary, You might haW spared me, too. I don't dine out twice a year like this." "Wo are very flattered," she murmured. He suddenly turned and looked at her# and she was conscious that she had never been looked at in the same fashion before,. "Well, in a sense you ought to be. You are the only woman in the world whoso invitation I should have accepted." His words were deliberate, spoken without enthusiasm or fervour of any sort. Yet Judith knew that they were tho truth. She was aware of a desire to withdraw from an unequal contest. Slio turned and began to talk restlessly to Lord Clareton. Ho brushed aside her tentative efforts toward conventional conversation. " I have just heard who your left-hand neighbour is," he confided in an undertone. "Do yon know that he is one of the most remarkable men living ?" "Is he?" she replied, " I know my father thinks very highly of his work." " I am not a scientific man myself," Lord Clareton continued, "but my nephew, Ronald, was at college with this fellow Paule, and he's never tired of talking about him. I remember hit lolling us, for instance, that Paule, before he went down, after having carried off every possible honour, declared that, before he was forty, he would have solved the problem of the genesis of the world and the indefinite prolongation of life. Pretty good for a lad of twenty-two or twentythree." "He hasn't done it, has he?" sh® remarked drily. "He isn't forty yet," Lord Clareton reminded her. "He s clone some wonder-, ful things, though." Judith leaned across Ilk tablet and exchanged amenities with Frederick. Then she turned once more to her left-hand: neighbour. I have been told that you are pledget to discover before you are forty the se< <-1* , of the genesis of the world aaa the elixir of life." " I shall probably do both. I could prolong any reasonably healthy person's life about thirty years already if it was worth while—it so seldom is." " Could you prolong mine!" " Easily. I could guarantee yoa at hundred years or so. You're much to sensible though, to ask me to do it." " Is that one of the problem you studyin Bluebeard's chamber?" " Occasionally," he admitted, " Why not devote your efforts to kewv ing me 'young and beautiful ?" " You ask a great deal of science." " I thought yoa were one of thosi," she rejoined, " who taught that we aro as yet only on the threshold of knowledge, that some of the planets an; inhabited, for instance, by & race of beir;gs infinitely more intelligent '.ban we are. and that it is only because we are slothful that we have made so little progress." " There is not the slightest doubt aW.it that. As to the planets bsing inhabited, more than half the scientific men of the day have come to that conclusion." " Then why don't we communicate with some of them ?" " It is simply a question of somebody with brains having time enough to spare to devise the instrument, or rather series of instrument!?. I'll give you the idea now if you feel you'd like to devote yourself to it." . " I am not a scientist, but I h.;ve other qualities." . , " So I understand," he acquiesced, great musician, an artist, a tragedienne, and a poetess were all lost to the world, thanks to your father's amazing fact . for doctoring the human race at a «'>t °'" a You V pleased to be sarcastic, she observed. Icm voa ail lb* on/thing which make* ma doubt it," he answered bluntly. "st un hj» w noon the ring on her finger. -V ot aneer brought the quick colour to fee, ?h«S? & devoted herself to he.' the tablo to her fnends, .