THE WHITE MANTILLA.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXV, Issue 19892, 10 March 1928, Page 14 (Supplement)

THE WHITE MANTILLA.

SY RICHARD LICHFIELD.

CHAPTER XXHl.—(Continued.) Left alone, Dennis Carey sat, how long iio knew not, with bowed head and covered «yes, muttering a broken prayer. A knock at the door. " Mrs. Clare will bo glad to speak with Jou for a few" : sainutes, sir." •" I will come at once." He picked up the letter addressed to the widow and made his way to the sitting room, where ho found her looking out pensively on the wealth of shrubs in evidence before he window. Since her interview with Carey her attitude- to him had been ono of sweet humility. She glanced up timidly as ho came in. " I'm sorry to trouble you, dear Mr. Carey, but I could not rest till f I saw you. My maid telli me that Mr. lemple is back from Mondoza, and that dear 'Amabel did not return with him. Surely there has not been an accident?" "This note will probably explain," he •'answered, coldly, arid held out Amabel s letter. Mrs. Claro opened and read it aloud:—- " Dear Esme,—l have decided to shorten my visit to the vineyard, and left this morning. Thin is to say goodbye. We had soma jolly times together, but we must part now. 1 hope jou will bo very, very happy in the iuture. Amabel." , . Mrs. Clare put down the note and looked beseechingly at the man who stood before her, his piercing gaze directed to her face. " Esme Clare," he began slowly, can You give any explanation of Miss Amherst's strange action ? That you and your friend, Shuster, have been the means of causing her some terrible unhappiness is too clear. Do you at all realise the consequences? She, a young girl, utteily unprotected, without a friend, will arrive in Buenos Aires to-morrow night with only a limited sum of money between her and possibly starvation? Does the awful danger to which she will bo exposed occur to you, or are you too wrapped up in •yourself to liavo any humau feeling foi one of vour own sex ? Tho widow knew now that her designs on Carey had utterly failed, and sho broke down completely. Clasping her nanus, v.ith te°.rs streaming from her eyes sho sobbed: "Indeed, indeed, I know nothing of what; passed between Amabol and Albeit Shuster. I only know he wanted to marrv her, and I promised I would try to help him. He said if I did lie would dc# his best Sho broke off suddenly, her voice choked. - . •, " To speak plainly, thero was a hearuless compact between you and Shuster to make use of a generous and unsuspecting nature with the intention of gaining your own ends, even to the length of ruining her happiness'! " Carey returned, his face .rigid, ' ■. , Esme Clare was terrified j she shook iiko a leaf. " Mr. Carey—dear Mr. Carey, she •cried, " don't look like that, I will tell vou all. I was jealous of Amabel, and I think Albert Shuster was jealous of you. 1 know nothing—nothing of what he said to her in the Cumbre or In the Horcones. I swear it! " she cried frantically. ' For;give, forgive-—" , Her last words fell on unhearing ears. " You will naturally find a further stay Siero embarassing; arrangements will be mnde for your departure to-morrow And without a word of farewell Dems Carey left her. Bab, speeding to Buenos Aires, his racing thoughts far outstripping the speed of the fast express in which he travelled, was considering his tactics. And in so doing it suddenly struck him as strange that' Carey did not como forward to take part in the search for Amabel, However, Temple soon put the thought away grimly turning his attention to tho matter in hind —the finding of his old playfellow. Fagged out —for in his distracted state he got no sleep in the train —Bob reachetj Buenos. Ho went to the smallest and most unpretentious hotel lie could see, ordered breakfast, and while eating it decided on his first move. This, he felt, must undoubtedly be to see the lists of passengers on all outward bound vessels, especially any proceeding to London j so when he had finished his meal he set out for the docks. Arrived there, a fresh difficulty presented itself to his m:nd. under ah assumed name, and possibly describe herself as travelling on business. .Amabel would assuredly book her passage Nevertheless, downhearted though he felt, he searched long and minutely, but with no result.

Intending to renew his investigations next dav, ho returned late in the evening to the hotel. There he got a miserable dinner, and afterwards, worn out, for he had had no sleep for nearly forty"oight hours, went upstairs to the room he took ou arrival, flung himself on the bed,, and in two minutes sank, into a sleep so profound that it was almost death-like. ' Hours passed on, evening waned into night, night lost itself in another day. Temple's "sleep grew lighter. He began to dream —he was in tlie midst of London's whirling traffic —a motor ran him •down. With a start ho woke, and reancmbercd that lie was in Buenos Aires.

CHAPTER XXIV

Days, weeks passed on. Private iniquities were set on foot, all ocean boats ioutward "bound strictly watched, girls agoing backwards and forwards to business were shadowed, but Bob could obtain 710 trace of any ono in the least resembling Amabel Amherst. That she. was hiding somewhere in Buenos Aires, quite possibly only for a time, the young man felt convinced, and he would not givo up hope, although tho outlook was. black ■enough. Unc day news reached him that a young English girl, answering to Amabel's description, had been traced to a large business house in Rio Janeiro. Thinking it possible that the girl might take up ■work as clerk or secretary, Bob started ioff at onco, leaving strict orders with his ico-adjutors not to relax their efforts in ithe slightest particular. Full of hope he started. As soon as lie survived in Rio he drove to the establishment of tho firm indicated. Struck by ••the Englishman's worn appearance and .evident anxiety, the proprietor arranged for him to interview his employees; although lie assured Temple he had no one in his service of the name of Amherst, •or even of the description given. Investigations proved to be fruitless, bnt Bob was not dismayed. He resolutely stayed ■on in Rio, doggedly continuing the search while Carey, alone now at the vineyard, dragged 'through weary days of alternate hope and disappointment. Temple had been three weeks in Rio when one day, among correspondence forwarded from Buenos .Aires, he found a letter addressed in what struck him as a disguised hand. As soon as he looked at it hope leaped up, but a second glance showed him it was not Amabel's writing. He opened the letter, which, addressed in the first place to the finca, had been forwarded to Rio, and read. " The writer of this, who wishes to bo a friend to Mr. Temple, is in a position to tell him that the object of his search is safe and happy. More than this the writer is not allowed to say. Any message in reply inserted in the Diario, Rio Janeiro, will be seen." The postmark was undecipherable, and the note bore neither date nor address. " Here's something tangible at last," Bob exclaimed aloud, in nis exuberance, to the four walls of his room. " Anyhow, old Amabel's safe, and happy, too." Leaving the rest of his correspondence ignominiously neglected, ho seized a sheet of paper and rapidly scribbled: "To »" friend.' Blessings on yon. Anxiety awful. Say Bob's love, and hopes tangle ;will soon straighten out. Bob." This ho put into an envelope with a note to the editor, ran downstairs, seized his hat and, dashing into the street, ran at top speed to tho offices of tho Diario. Where he gave in the letter with cost of insertion. Then he returned to tho calir'l to °k up *" s pen, and wrote more ''Dear Mr. Carey.—Amabel is safe. .Have just received letter, ©f which enm

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closed, is copy. Am keeping original as it may be useful—a woman's writing, but not Amabel's. Inserted reply at once in ' Diario,' as enclosed.—\ ours truly, Robert Temple."When Carey received this letter he was sitting in the office, where he now spent most of his time. He read the first sentence, then leaned back with a long, shuddering sigh of relief. A burden which he seemed to have been carrying for years was lifted from him, the furrows.smoothed out of .His face. He perused the letter very carefully, 'hen Joaned back again and thought. He felt certain that Albert Shuster was the one who had penetrated his secret, and that, having done so, he inado some venomous suggestion which had caused Amabel such deep anger and resentment. And for the thousandth time Carey wondered how much Shuster had unearthed the matter.

From Albert Shuster his thoughts flitted to Esme Clare and her remark, " I think Albert was jealous of you!" Dennis felt that possibly she was right. She, too, had wronged him bitterly—sowed a whole crop of utter misunderstanding between himself and the one he loved. A

opeu girl like Amabel could be no match for underhand people. Yet ho relented a little toward tho widow as ho remembered her last words on leaving the vineyard. " I know I have been very wicked —have been crooked, jealous, selfish. My very love was a poor and selfish thing, but I am not all bad. Perhaps some day you will have cause to think better of me." And Carey wondered if sho were the one who wrote to Bob. Dennis no longer disguised matters from himself —he knew that ho loved Amabel. He knew, too, that in tho present state ot her feelings toward him, Robert Templo was the one to conduct the search.

That young man, convinced that sooner or later he would stumble across Amabel or some trace of her, did not relax his efforts. Ho was still in this frame of mind when, three months later, he received a packot addressed in Carey's handwriting and 1 marked " Important." Bob tore it open, read the enclosed note, and next moment was eagerly scanning a paragraph in the Presado, a Buenos Aires daily, which Carey had marked deeply with blue pencil. Tho paragraph was headed in largo type: "New star in tho musical world. Brilliant young pianist." " A performance was given last night by Senora Carveute, a beautiful girl of tho Spanish type who has lately appeared on the Buenos Aires horizon. Her magnificent .rendering, marvellous touch, the alternation of passion and tender pathos, swjpt the audience completely off its feet. Bouquets fell in showers on the platform, and when the senora.'bowed to the vast concourse, a white mantilla of rare old lace fastened to her dark hair with a single ruby star, all hearts wera captured, The applause was thunderous. Senora Carvente is, we understand, of Spanish-English birth, and we congratulate Buenos Aires on"its fine tasto which has _ discovered a prima donna whom Europe failed to recognise." Bob bounded to his feet and rushed to tho hotel bookkeeper. " My bill at once and a tihio table!" He snatched the book from the man's hand, glanced at tho train " service to Buenos Aires, paid his bill, and hurried ijito the street. He had scarcely gained it when a slap on the back—the hearty slap of a Britisher—made him jump. He turned quickly. " Who the dickens —" A burst of uproarious laughter interrupted. " Don't you remember me—Tommy Clodleigh ? * Saw you last at del Inca, where one of your party lay sick. Glad to see she's recovered. Looks awfully well, too."

" Who on earth are you talking about?" " Miss Amherst, of course —fine girl. If vou hadn't been sweet on her, by George! I'd had have a try for her myself!"

" Where did you see her?" Temple demanded, excitedly. "In Buenos Aires—l met her in the Avenida fle Mayo. Don't be jealous, old boy, but she seemed pleased to see me. She said nothing about the rest of the party. It appears that she will be in Buenos Aires for some time, so I guessed the rest of you were knocking about -somewhere near,"

" When did you see Miss Amherst—where is she now ?" Bob rapped out, as soon as astonishment would let him speak. "Jealous old chap, knew you would be," Clodleigh chuckled. " Yellow hair, blue eyes, jealous as they make 'em," he rattled on innocently, unconscious of a raging desire on the part of the impatient Bob to knock him down. " Well, an swer to question No. I—last1 —last week. No don't know." " Come along,' Temple said, ferociously dragging him forward by the arm. "Thank goodness I met you!"

" Where ore you taking me oil to ? For heaven's sake let go of my arm or we shall have a bobby after us thinking it's a case of * stop thief,' " Clodleigh said, goodhumouredly. " Whatever are you doing in this wretched hole?" he asked in surprise as they approached the hotel. " Como to my room, then you'll hear," and Bob raced upstairs.

"Now, can you keep your mouth shut ?" " As well as most men, I reckon," the other replied, producing a cigar and lighting it with 'deliberation. " Get 0:1 — runaway marriage and loft each other at tho church door, eh ?" " Shut up, Clodleigh, the whole thing's a devil of a moss. Miss Amherst's in Buenos alone—bolted." And in rapid, excited utterance Bob poured out tho whole story. " Always thought that Sinister a cad. As for the widow, she was out for everything she was worth to catch Carey. Wonder he didn't see through her." 1 " Well, her game's up, now," Temple returned. " Swing all that. What I want to know is Miss Amherst's present address."

" Would I could tell you," Clodleigh returned, heartily. "I haven't a notion. I never thought of trying to find out — naturally expected you wero all staying together at ono of the big hotels. Tho queerest story I ever heard," he added, reflectively,- knocking the ash off the end of his cigar into a ueglccted-looking fender. " How long have you been grubbing in this little den ?" Mouths. My idea was to lio low. If I'd come across Miss Amherst she might have bolted again." Tommy Clodleigh ruminated. " Look hero,he said at last, " I'm off by the 2.15 back to Buenos —only came here for a trip. After my news, you'll be raging to get there, too. Let's go together. There's a train earlier, but the 2.15 is far and away the best. You've paid up hero ? Well, come round to my hotel—l'm staying at tho Don—you'll get a good lunch there." ' Right you are." Bob returned, and Clodleigri took himsolf away. Temple sat down, wrote a hasty note saying he had decided to leave Rio, ad dressed the letter to Carey, and posted it. Then he went on to the Don, lunched with Clodleigh, and soon after the two men wero in the express for Buenos. " Look hero, do you know this girl ?" Bob asked almost as soon as they were seated, pulling out the copy of the Pre sado which be had received that morning from Carey. " Ever beard of her before ?" he went on, pointing to tho marked paragraph. " Never saw her that I know of. I'm not a musical chap," Clodleigh returned, when in his leisurely way he had read through the articJe on Senora Carvente. " Heard something about a budding star, though, before I left Buenos. Why ?" " That's Miss Amherst," Bob said, with decision. " Carey sent on that copy of the Presado this morning." He grow very silent and thought deeply. " Look here, old chap, you shut up about my being after Miss Amherst. It's true I'd a sort of calf love for her in my babyhood, but that's over and done with. If I've any eyes in my head, there's another man in lovo with her, and she's in love with him—doesn't know it yet, though. Take my advice, it's best to leave the love business alone. It's the easiest thing in the world to make a confounded pie in a very short time," Bob wound up, oracularly.

" Daresay you're* right," and Clodleigh, thoughtfully smoking, considered the point. To Temple the journey seemed neverending, and when at. length the train steamed into Buenos Aires he felt that he could have shouted for joy. » " I don't see ai.y particular reason why you should want to he low now you've unearthed the whereabouts of the runaway. Come with me to ' The Phoenix/ you'U be comfortable there." "Good idea—you may be of use. I know you'll de me a good turn if you can," Bod replied, who was ready to agree to almost anything in the joy of being at last really on Amabel's track. The two nien left the station together, and Temple, having made arrangements at " The Phoenix," went out into the street, intending to return for dinner. He felt excited—restless. The search was over; to obtain the address of Senora Carvante would be easy enough. Presently turning a corner, he saw a little way in front of him a young girl walking alono At that moment a welldressed man glided to her side and whispered- in her ear. For a minute the girl walked on as though unconscious of his presence. Undaunted, lie again addressed her. In a second the unknown turned her head scornfully—the free, independent movement of Amabel Amherst. In a voice clear, cutting, cold as the breath of an Andiuo glacier,' she said: " You have made a mistake!" In an instant the man dropped from her side as though in fear. Not " too soon. In another second Temple's foot would have sent him flying among the crowded traffic in the roadway. CHAPTER XXV. With ono long stride the young Englishman was' beside the girl. " Amabel!" he cried, in a tone of astonishment. " Whatever brings you out at night—alone ?" At the sound of his voice she turned quickly, her expression wholly one of surprise. Esme's got a bad headache, and I just slipped out for a breath of fresh air." She spoke quite easily, as though ignoring the gulf, of misunderstanding and wretchedness that lay between that parting in Mendoza and this unlooked-for meeting. " Is Mrs. Clare with you?" Bob asked, feebly, feeling completely befogged. " Yes, • we're living together; we've taken rooms with a widow who's had a lot. of trouble. We've changed our names—we're Mrs. and Miss Ellis now," Amabel concluded, tranquilly. " How can you talk in this cool way, when Carey and I have been distracted about you for months and months?" Bob exclaimed,- indignantly. The girl's eyes suddenly glistened. "It isn't because I didn't care. I was awfully cut up, knowing how you'd feel •—that* was why wo sent you the note. Esme suggested it. file's so changed, Bob. not a bit like she was when you knew her," and for a moment the girl lost herself in recollection of what now seemed like some previous existence. " She's awfully nice, she seems to be always wanting to help other people. It's her point of view that's changed, I suppose," the girl concluded, a twinkle in her eyes.

" I'm glad there's an improvement in }, er —there was room for it." Temple ohserved, tartly. " Amabel, I hear you've turned out a musical star. Tell me all about it."

" There's not much (o tell. I meant to get my living somehow, and you know how I always loved music. It s wonderful how lucky I've been. Do you remember those people wo met here the Cedrillos? They, say my career is meteoric; they have been awfully good. Did you ever meet Senor Cedrillo's mother—a very interesting old lady! It turns out that she knew my mother." " X remember. The senor is a friend of Carey's," Bob replied, covertly watching his Companion's face. Uer expression instantly stiffened.

" Don't mention his name to rue," she said in her coldest tone, but quickly Bob detected in it a siraugo mingling of pain. " Amabel, why you make such a mystery of this misunderstanding—for misunderstanding I'm sure it is—l can't make out;" Bob said, irritably. " One thing I know, though, and that is you're giving a confoundedly line fellow-a deuce of a time."

Amabel winced. Yet in spile of evident disturbance her face showed a strange fixity of purpose. " It's not my secret. Bobbie," she returned; "it's his. Why don't you ask him to explain

The young man thought. For the first time it struck hjm that Carey had not given any hint of what Amabel's parting note to him contained. Temple had concluded it was more or less a replica of tho widow's and his own letters. To Carey, Amabel possibly gave the reason of her -abrupt departure. 'That she did so, and tho millionaire kept secret tho cause of her leaving the vineyard so abruptly, was a new and startling light, and Carey's emphatic denial to the suggestion ( of the girl's lending Sinister money 'flashed back to Temple's _ mind. How "did lie know this not to be the case so positively ? There was a secret shared then by both—one that aroused in Amabel strong resentment, and caused the man to be deeply wounded. Whatever it might be. Bob was more than ever positive that Sinister had created the situation. <

They walked a considerable distance, unnoticed'' by Temple until the girl suddenly slopped. " Come in. Esme will bo ever so glad to see you," she said. " I know the secret of my address is safe with you," and she opened the floor of a moderatesized house and walked in.

Esme Clare met them in the hall. " have von been —" she began. they stopped short inastonishment. " Mr. Ternnle!" glancing apprehensively at Amabel. it's all right: you needn't mind old Bob.

" I'm jolly glad to find you've got this twentieth-century young woman inder your wing," the young man said. Ms attliide to the widow insensibly softening. Amabel wns right, a change had Tie over Esme Clare.

" Have a talk while I take off my hings," the girl said, laughing, and ran •ostairs. The door had scarcely closed behind her before tho widow's expression changed; tears stood in her eyes. "If you only knew how glad, hew thankful I am you've come!" she burst out. " I'm so miserable about this thing, and I can do nothing to help you and Mr. Carey." A painful look passed over her face as she uttered Dennis' name. It conn cleared away, however, and she went on. " When I left th<? .vineyard I came here, intending to find out Amabel's whereabouts, as I felt sure she would not go back to England. Weeks on weeks passed in iruitlesn sefU',ch» rl.'iv. wanrWine; in the outskirts of the city, I passed a convent, where I heard someone plaving a thing of Mozart's. I recognised the wonderful touch instantly —Amabel's Without a moment's hesitation I went to the convent gate and asked to see the Mother Suneripr. Thev took me to a parlour, and a few minutes the mother came in. With profuse apologies I asked boldly for the -address of the music mistress, whom T wanted to see. It was given at once, and proved to be that of a small housp outside Buenos. There I went, and after waiting an hour Amabel came in. She seemed rather nleased to seo me. and soon we were talking over her plans. She had decided to trv for music puoils, and before found her time fullv neon nied. That dav, one of the wealthiest men in the citv. whose daughter had lessons from Amabel, struck by her wonderful nlavina. bad advised her to go in for public performance and. as ■ a trial, bis wife offered to civo a lavee reception at which Amabel was to perform. A few davs later it came off Some of the principal people in Buenos were there, among them the Cedrillo3. The thing was a complete sucgess. (To be continued on Saturday next.)