THE RIDDLE OF WRAYE.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVIII, Issue 20851, 18 April 1931, Page 12 (Supplement)

THE RIDDLE OF WRAYE.

(COPYRIGHT.)

A SPLENDIDLY TOLD STORY OF MYSTERY AND INTRIGUE.

CHAPTER I. ON Faith Hcrrion stood outside tho Lair of tlje Badger Inn, situated half a mile from the littlo Sussex village of Wraye, and looked at the uioon. It was a glorious night, following a hot, sunny day. An occasional slow-moving cloud threw a black formless shadow across the fields, like somo gigantic mantle, temporarily Hotting out everything on which it fell.

/ " What a wonderful night!" sho cried enthusiastically to tho short, fat, redfaced landlord who stood by the open <loor of the inn, in his shirt-sleeves. " 1 think I shall go for a walk up the hill It must be a heavenly view from the top." " Creepy alone," said the landlord ehortly. /

There was something in his tones which made Faith Herrion look at him quickly

" Country folfy are not afraid of tlu> «clark, surely?" sho asked. "Wraye Hill / '

" Wrayo Hill's not everybody's money at night growled Samuel Purdon (licensed to sell spirits, and tobacco). " It's too good a night to waste," said Faith.

Samuel Purdon screwed up his eyes. " The woods are dark. They're lonely, haunted." ,/

" But there's nothing to ho afraid of in trees, Mr. l'urdon. The village people " ' "Wo lives tliis side of the hill, broke •" in the other.) "There ain't no occasion to go up it after dark." Faith Herrion laughed with all Hie verve of healthy youth and high spirits. She had been up Wraye Hill, that long, steep hill near y Chichester, many a time in daytime, but never after dark. She could ' not understand tho landlord s spoken fear of the hill. On each of it were great, beech woods and behind them the lang stretch of the Downs. At the foot of tiie hill nestled the pleasant, picturesque, compact little village of Wraye, a village unspoiled by the vandalism of the modern builder, a village of sweet-smelling/ gardens, of thatched roofs, cf dark-red bricks and warm tiles. She / could imagine no place in the world • more peaceful, no place in which tho word fear was lesg likely to enter. She turned away sharply and swung round the quiet, deserted road toward the "village. Faith Herrion had little belief 5n ghosts. She was too healthy-minded 7 for that, too full of the joy of living to le frightened by mere suggestion. A black shape glided across tho road and disappeared silently into the ditch, and involuntarily Faith missed a step. She stood still, and felt suddenly angry with herself. Sh6 could not hear a sound. Where she was a warm patch of air gave ]ier an oppressive feeling. A rustle in the undergrowth made her turn quickly. / She felt her .flesh tingling " Why, I /believe you are getting the creeps," she said to herself. ' That s listening to Mr Purdon." Faith was feeling thoroughly annoyed, and as she on again the conviction slowly stole over her that sho had allowed her nerves to get control. But she was not tho kind to yield easily. She had made up her mind to walk to the top of Wraye Hill. "If." she reflected, "I am feeling like this before'i am through „the. village, ■what shall I feel like on the hill, half a mile away T What can there bo in the Woods to frighten me?" Logic, reason, common sense all told her there was nothing to fear, yet- ' " And yet lam like a child letting my imagination run away with myself,she j argued fretfully. " And 1 m not a child. At the foot of the hill, however, she found herself no longer walking boldly in the middle of the road. Great beeches threw their intense shadows it, and an occasional shaft of moonlight through the leaves mads the shadows take curious shapes. On the mossy grass beside the roeid she made no sound as she walked. Her ears were keenly alert and she could, hear the restless rustling of the creatures o| the wood as she went by. For some reason, which she refused to admit to herself, she was thankful she was wearing dark clothes, clothes which "blended with tho shadows, clothes which made her almost invisible. As she hurried up the hill, all her senses strained as she would never have believed they would be, she was aftaid to turn lest she should give way completely to panic. She kept ) lier mind constantly on tho top of the liill, her eyes fixed ahead. As she neared a bend her feet censed to move, her body stiffened, and' she shrank back till she touched the trunk of a friendly beech. A match had suddenly flared out of tho darkness but fifty yards away and in its light she saw the face of a man. lie was lighting a pipe. And then she heard him singing in a rich, «leep voice. " Go rolling down to Ri-o, 801 l down, roll down to Ri-o! And I'd like to roll to Rio Some day. bofore I'm old." She heard his footsteps and tho refrain ©f the song getting louder, and she edged silently round the tree so that lie would ■pass without seeing her. By the luminous Jiarids of her wrist watch she could see that it was twenty minutes to ten. As the 7 footsteps of tho other came steadily on, the song died away. She could see the red glow of his pipe. There came the sharp snap of a dry branch I being broken under foot, it seemed to Faith but inches away from where she stood shrinking against tho tree, and then swiftly moving footsteps. Iheii a fchout and cursing. From the top of the hill came tlio long warning hoot of a motor-car horn. Behind the shadows of the trees its headlights, before it began its dip down the hill, seemed like a powerful pair of searchlights. As it swept round the bend and into the long straight steep ■stretch of tho hill, the lights cut a clean path through the darkness, and in the middle of the road Faith Herrion saw four figures struggling, swaying. On the impulso she ran out from the shelter of the trees, waving her hands at tho approaching car, the lights of which halfblinded her. "Help! Help!" To her it appeared that her frenzied cry rose above the high-pitched scream of the fiercely-applied brakes. She stood there, her hands clasped in terror, as one ' cf tho figures broke away from tho other three, a whirling fury of arms. With a grunt one of his assailants doubled up, winded by a blow from a sledge-hammer fist, and rolled over and over down the hill. Out of the comer of her eye Faith saw him, pick himself up and disappear out of the range of tho car lights. " Come on, all the lot of ye!" shouted the man defending himself. " An' I'm enjoyin' myself. What did you do in the Great War, daddy, eh ? Not much. A dirty little conchy by the look of your ugly facp!" Tho two remaining assailants edged apart as he came forward. He heard the feet of the motorist as the latter, without waiting to open the door of his car, .vaulted over the side into the road. " Which side are yo 011!" lie grunted. " Come on, three to one, four to one, damn thp lot of you!" Thft newcomer gave oije quick glance round, as though summing up the situation to himself, and then without a word he van forward and catching one of the two waiting men by tho collar of his coat, as he turned to fly, planted his foot firmly in the lower part of his back and sent hiir. spinning down the hill. " One, my friend!" he said grimly. Then the unexpected happened. Out , ,°f the darkness came the terrifying roar 3'' a gun being fired. The remaining asj&fcf-.' Wwifc dodged iijto tho shadows;

By JOHN LAURENCE: Author of " We Pursuing Shadow," " The Double Cross Inn," " Mystory Money," etc

"Come on—back!" The motorist seized Faith unceremoniously by the arm, as there came a second report, and dragged her into the darkness. The next moment she felt herself being lifted and half-thrown into the back of the car. "Sorry! No time for introductions! Apologise later! Lie still!" Faith Herrion always said afterwards that Martin Shell wood was laughing to himself as he turned away—laughing at a moment when she could not have spoken if she had tried, when her heart was thumping with fear, her whole body on fire with the racing blood in it. She heard a shuffling of feet, a sharp " hop in!" the whirr of the self-starter, and then she was jerked back as the car leaped down the hill. She saw the driver glance back, and she felt as though she would faint and then she shut her eyes.

Xlie ieeling did nut iast ior lung. Tlkj rush ol cooi air quicKly levivcd her, ami as slit) opened her ejrcs agauj sno saw lijcy weiu going through \\ iayo, now a viiiage oi tuirKnoss, lor Wrayu went to Ota early as it lose early. Ttie lear winch had overwhelmed ner leil iroiu her like a cloak, bhe leit suddeniy saie, and with the leeling her normal selfpossession returnou . blie leant iorward. •' lheie's an inij a hundred yards round the corner," sho cneu. " i am staying there, please." '.the driver 01 Lhe car n'odded that he had heard, but ho did not turn round. Aur aid ho speak iinul Ins car drew up beiure tne door oi tho .Lair oi the Badger inn.

" And that's that," ho said cheerfully. " Haven't had such a good time since i was on the Italian from. L,ord iove tne crows, buL 1 tliougliL Jiaigland was going to tiie uogs. ltescuing lair maidens was always my forte, bin tins is tile first chance l'vo had to do it. By tho way, 1 haven t introduced myself, fchellvvood, iUartin of mat ilk, a doctor by pioiession and a uashing cavalier by nature." Faith iaugned. lliere was something supremely comlorting about tlio man who stood before her, hat in hand, holding open tho door oi tho car lor her to descend. He was one of those people whom one seemed to have known years, alter the hrst lew minutes. But there was a deptli in his solt brown eyes, a cleanness about his mouth and chill, which belied tho raillery of las words. He might, she reflected, laugh at danger, but it was not because lie aid not realise the danger.

"My name is—" sho began, when tho man who had been siLting beside Martin Shellwood interrupted. " You're a doctor," ho said. " 'lhey winged me." Instantly the other had turned away from Faith.

•' Where, man ?" lie cried. " Can you get out?" He turned to Faith again as he spoke. " Get somo clean linen and water ready,

quick." " Nothing serious. In tho arm," continued the other as Faith disappeared through the open door. His right arm was hanging by his side and a thin trickle of blood was running over the back of his hand. A short, fat red-faced man came to the door and looked out.

"Somebody hurt?" he asked. "Bring him in, sir. This way." The landlord led the two along a short passage and into a private sitting-room. He looked on phleginatically as Shellwood tusk off the coat and waistcoat of the wounded man, and turned down his shirt, the sleeve of which was soaking. The great hairy chest, hairy muscular arms, tattooed with crossed anchors, u heart pierced by an arrow, a snake wound round like some close-fitting bracelet, the thick gold ring on his little finger, were all eloquent of the man's occupation. He watched the doctor without a word as the latter ripped into two tho pieces of clean linen he had brought, and dipping it in tho water wiped away the blood.

" Looks worse than it is," he said. " Jtou'vo had a iucky escape. Tho bullet's just scored the flesh. Have that right in half a jiffy." " Been shot ?" asked Samuel Purdon.

" Ay, oil Wraye llill," returned the sailor. "If tho gentleman here hadn't come along 1 might a' been robbed. Three of 'em there were, with guns."

" Did they got anything Tho landlord leant forward. There was an eager look on Ins face, but it faded away as the sailor looked up. " Ain't got nothing worth pinching," said the sailor. " Leaslways 1 didn't know I had," Jie added, half to himself. "But you may have?" continued Samuel Purdon.

There was a curious eagerness in his voice which made Faith look at him. She wondered what ho was trying to say, but whatever it was he did not continue as the sailor turned, as though he had not heard, and spoko to Martin Shelfwood.

" Name, John Daggs, sir, able-bodied seaman," he said. " Lordy, but you don't look as though you could fight." He raised his now bandaged arm with a look of satisfaction on his face.

" An' that's all right," lie added with a grin. " I'm beginning to feel a bit peckish. What's a-doing, landlord V " Bread and cheese and pickles and a bit of cold 'am," replied the landlord. " We'll lirjd you a shakedown for the night, Mr. Daggs." " That's a good 'un," cried the sailor with a "loud laugh. " Hear that 1 Mister Daggs, if you please." Faith gave a slight nod as Martin Shellwood looked at her with a little grimace. " Perhaps, Mr. Shellwood," she cried, " you will come and be introduced to my sister and her husband, and let them thank you." " Yes, of course I will." He looked at his watch. " Landlord, haw you got a room ?" "Yes, sir, 1 daresay we can find you .1 room,'' replied Purdon.

" I shall want breakfast early to-mor-row, eight o'clock sharp," continued Shellwood. " Pre got an appointment in London at half-past ten. 1 didn't know it was so late, or i'cl have pushed on." Tho plain truth of the matter was, however, Martin Shellwood had no intention whatever of pushing on that night, and as he followed the graceful figure of Faith Ilerrion he felt himself wishing that lie had not to return the following morning. With a start ho realised that she was speaking, that her words were echoing his thoughts. " Jt's a pity you've got to go up to London. Wraye is a most delightful place."

" I may como back sooner than you expect," he answered gaily. "My first acquaintance with it has begun auspiciously. Romance has entered into my young life so unexpectedly that I should bo an ungrateful wretch not to follow where she beckons. I'm a witness in a compensation case to-morrow, or 1 should stop down iiere until—until " " Until the cows como homo," she finished with a laugh. " Till you leave," he murmured under his breath, as sho opened a door and preceded him into a cosy, cheerful room which had the peaceful air about it of a hundred years nl use.

Sitting by Ihe bright log firo was a woman who was clearly Faith's sister. There was the same golden shingled head, beautifully poised bv a slender, white neck 011 tlie graceful body: the same turquoise blue eyes, tho same delicately curved, sensitivo lips, the same clear, soft, complexion. Save that there was a greater air of energy and life in Faith, tiie two might have been twins. By her side sat a man for whom Martin Shell wood took an instant liking. Few people, indeed, could have helped liking Stephen Tlelsery. Ho was solid, comfortable-looking, with a deep, wholesome, full-throated laugh—bis wifo called it a bellosv—which camo straight from the heart. (To bo continued dnily.)