THE FOREFRONT OF THE BATTLE.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXIX, Issue 21162, 20 April 1932, Page 17

THE FOREFRONT OF THE BATTLE.

(COPYRIGBT.)

By MARTEN CUMBERLAND. Author of "Behind the Scenes," "Loaded Dice," "The Perilous Wny," etc., etc

SPLENDIDLY-TOLD STORY OF GREAT HUMAN INTENSITY.

SYNOPSIS. Sir David Teesdale, maunfiitifr director of tho Green Funnel Line, discusses with his manager. Dent, the erection of a new floating dock at Yala, 011 the Itiver Amazon, and suggests that their best, engineer, Montero, ho Bout out to supervise the construction. Dent asserts that Montero'a poor health—duo to loose living—will be against his going. Dr. Grant, eccentric nnd old, is told off to examine Montero »s his last job before retiring from the firm 011 pension. He says (hot if Montero goes to Yala he will bo dead in eight months. Montero is sent for by Sir Dnvid, who only gives him a superficial warning of the risk Lie runs in going to Vain, but suggests sending another man. Montero scorns the proposal, calls Grant an old fool, and pleads for the undertaking. Sir • David gives his consent, and when the interview is over, takes out of his desk a packet of snapshots of a beautiful woman — Paula, Monlero'u wife. Three months later. Paula culls on Tcesdnle at his office and claims him as an escort for tea. They are great pals, but Sir David makes no attempt to conceal his admiration. On returning to the office. Dent rushes to him with a cablegram. Montero is dead—murdered by Indians. An old employee is sent to break tho news to Paula. Sho rings up David and asks him to call round and comfort lier in her sorrow. . . . It is 14 months since Montero's death, and David and Paula are now happily married and spending the honeymoon at Bellagio. Paula had sincerely mourned her firit husband. David opens a letter that is awaitintr him at their hotel. It is from old Dr. Grant, and is interspersed with Biblical phrases, and clearly the enistle of a fanatic. The purport of it is that Teesdale is a murderer in that he suppressed the medical report on Montero and sent, the engineer to his death, because he (David) coveted Paula. _ Grunt also renounces his pension. Buying lie will touch 110 money coming from a " sinner." The letter disturbs the shipowner. He knows Grant's accusation is correct, but his mood becomes defiant—Grant cannot prove, anything, and—is Paula not worth having sinned for? David's 6on. Philip, calls on the.m on their return to_ London. Ho is home after studying art in Paris, and tells his father that he wants to marry Irma, daughter of Dr. Grant. David is disturbed, but voices no objection. CHAPTER V. Philip smashed the ball into an extreme corner of the court. " Game, and . . ." ho cried. "Pig!" gasped Irma Grant. "You've beaten me every time. Is thero no chivalry left in men ?" She dropped on the grass, panting a little, and pushing back her dark hair with one hand. " You might have let me win once, for the sake of my self-respect." Philip jumped the net, and flung himself down beside her. "Vanity, you mean!" ho laughed. "I can't encourage that sort of thing. By jove! You gave mc a run for my money. I feel warm!" Irma's grev eyes flashed over him. " You've improved your gamo heaps. Did you play at all in Paris?" " About half a-dozen times, that's all." They were silent fur a moment. Irma reclined, with her small dark head propped on one hand, her elbow pressing into the soft turf. Quick and agile, slim, petite, and exquisite, she lay there playing with her racquet. Philip looked at her with all his boy's soul in his eyes. " Irma " ho said. On to the court there came four whiteclad figures. Four clerks of tho Green Funnel Line. " Finished ?" one of them asked. " Or are you going to begin ?" " We've had three sets. Samuels/' ho said. "Jiist dealing out." He roso up and looked down at Irma. " What about a cup of tea?" She held out both her hands. " Lifk mo up, and lead mo to it. Ho pulled her to her feet. Tho four clerks were spinning their racquets to decide, how they should play. " Three smooths —one rough. Iry again." Philip handed the girl's racquet to her. " Let's go to Richmond for tea," he suggested, " We can walk to tho Castle in twenty minutes." " All right, Philip." They walked across the playing fields that Philip's father had purchased years ago for the use of his employees. It was tiTo cud of May, and the still air carried every sound with that clearness which murks tho approach of summer. Shouts and laughter; cries of triumph or despair; tho " plop " of 11 hard leathern ball swiped into tho nets. At the Castle, Hotel, they had their tea, and then climbing tho hill, entered Richmond Park. In a glade whore tho deer started off at tho sound of their footsteps Irma glanced at, her wrist-watch. I must be getting back, Philip," she said. " I told daddy I would bo home about eight. .He will want his supper. She put on her hat. " Irma," ho said. " I was talking to my father yesterday. Of course, I'm not earning my living yet; 0110 can't expect to do that too quickly in art. Had was very good about it. 1 told him about you." Philip halted. Tho girl's faco was flushed. He took one of her hands in his. *' Irma, I love von. I think I've loved you ever since I first met you two years ago. Will—will you marry me, dear?" She saw that his face was pale, and that his eyes were very earnest ; his whole frame was shaking. The next, moment his arms were round her. and he was kissing her hair, her cheeks, her lips. " Philip!"- " Irma!" " Mv dear!" ho said huskily. " 1 can do anything with you beside mo!" She looked at him with soft, shining eyes. lie put his arm about her shoulders. Slowly thoy walked through the, bracken. Ho saw her back to Hammersmith, but nt tho corner of the road ho left her at her request " To-morrow," sho said. " Suppose, we. go somewhere where we can bo quite alone ?" " Fine! There's so much I want tn say, and you can tell mo what your father says. " I'll call for you; about. 1cn?" " All right, Philip. Good-night, my clear." It was not yet dark, and there were n number of people about. He contented himself with raising her hand to his lips. " To-morrow, at ton." Philip had a snack at a bar in a West, End restaurant. He felt too restless and excited to sit down to any set dinner, and ho was indifferent to what he ate. His emotions drove him into the streets. Ho felt he must walk: so he went to the outer circle of Regent's Park. Here there was space to walk, and his mood became more reflective. A wonderful life stretched out before him! Irma was his! Thero might, of course, be pain, hardship, struggle; these, tilings always existed in life, they were tho very stuff of which life was made. No matter. Come what might, Irma would be his! They would face things together, shoulder to shoulder. Toward eleven o'clock ho turned his steps in the direction of York Terrace, where lie was staying at tho moment. His father had wished him to move to Duchess Street, but there was a strain of independence in Philip that made him always desire his own quarters. Circumstances compelled him to accept an allowanco from David, but Philip always preferred his own " digs " when in London. Arriving at the boarding house, he was met in the hall by its proprietress. " Oli ! Mr. Toesdale, I'm glad you've come back. There's a young lady been on the 'phone for you half a dozen times. Namo of Miss Grant. She said that if you came homo before eleven, would you ring

her up ? You know the number, don't you " Yes, Miss Slater, thank you. Ten minutes to. I'll 'phono at once." Irma's voice spoke. The girl's tones were nervous, anxious, miserable. " Philip ! I'm so glad you've come in. I feel so wretched !" " My darling ! What on earth—" " Listen ! it's daddy. I told him directly 1 got in, and bo's dead set against our marriage, Philip. T.'vo never known him like this before. His manner has been quito violent. lie would hardly let me mention your namo !" "What's ho got against me? I've hardly met him half a dozen times. What does lie say ?" " Nothing definite, Philip. I can't make it out. It seems to bo your father that daddy dislikes. He kept saying, 'Like father, liko son,' and talking about the 'sin of David.' I can't make any sense out of it, but it frightens me, Philip. People say funny things about daddy, lie's a little eccentric. To me he's always been so kind, so reasonable. It's not like him to try and stand in the way of my happiness." There was a sob in the girl's voice, and Philip's face was white. " Your father must give a reason for his objections. If lie's anything against me or against dad he had better come out with it. There must bo some mistake or misunderstanding somewhere." " I don't know, Philip. I can hear him walking up and down in his room all the time. I've, never known him like this. I feel utterly wretched. He has been hinting at dreadful things !" " You know better than that, my dear. Your father can have nothing against mo. As for dad, everyone knows he's one of tho best. Your father must know it, too. He was with the company for twenty years." "Of course. I can't understand it, Philip. And I felt so happy !" Irma's voice died away in tears. Philip's faco grew red with anger. " Listen, dear. Don't worry any more to-night. Try to sleep. Keep all this out of your mind. To-morrow morning, I'll come round to see your father, and I'll find out just what his objections are. I'll be round about half-past nine, if that's not too early ?" " No. All right, Philip. Daddy will be froo then." "Go to bed and sleep. It's all a mistake of some kind. Good-night, dearest." " Good night, Philip." r l lie last thing Philip heard was a faint sob from the girl he loved. CHAPTER VI. Philip Teesdale slept very little that night. Irma's agitated voice and her sob rang in his ears. Mentally he turned her words over in his mind, seeking to '•nd some explanation fur her father's strange conduct. Why did Dr. Grant object to Philip as a husband for Irma ? And what had the old man got against Philip's father? " Like father, liko son." " The sin of David." The old man's words meant nothing at all, so far as Philip could see. lie ruse early the next morning, glad to rise from a bed in which he had merely turned restlessly. As he shaved, in the clear sunlight that streamed through his windows, lie felt less troubled than he had in the night. There must lie some simple explanation for it all. It was duo to somo absurd misunderstanding. In imagination, Philip conjured up old Grant's grim features; the fierce, light grey eyes; the shaggy beard and eyebrows; tho bristling grey hair that always stood up so aggressively. That harsh, barking voico was Ihe voice of a fanatic; the stiff, awkward gestures were indicative of a mind eccentric, and possibly a littlo unbalanced. There was always somebody to sling mud at a man in a high position. Old Grant had believed some lie or other. He had probably rather a credulous nature; many of these moralists and reformers had. They set out upon some wild crusado without ever examining its authenticity. As he wiped his razor blade. Philip smiled again quito cheerfully. Ho would go straight to tho old boy and clear matters up, then he could soon comfort poor Irma! Downstairs, he rushed through his breakfast., and then left the house. He walked somo way toward Hammersmith, glancing at his watch every few minutes to noto tho slowly passing time. He could not call before half-past nine. The old man would not have finished his morning meal. Punctual to tho minute, however, be rang the front door bell at tho little house where a new brass plate showed that Dr. Grant was in practice again. Irma came to the door herself. " I was watching for you, Philip. He's in tho dining room, my dear." Tho girl's eyes were red with crying; her faco was deathly pale. Philip put his arms about her and kissed her. " I'll soon put things right, darling. Don't worry." " Oh! I do hope so! He hardly spoke to mo at breakfast. I've never seen him like this before." Sho went along tho hall, knocked at n door and opened it. " Father. Philip lias called. He wants to see you urgently." " Let him come in here. Take this tea cup away, will you?" Philip went into the room. Old Grant stood erect; a newspaper and a. pipe were in bis hands. To Philip he looked old. though sturdy and vigorous. His lean figure was clad in black trousers and waist - coat, but an old Norfolk jacket had been slipped 011 for comfort. Tie nodded curtly. "You want to seo mc ? Sit down." Philip sat down. " Well, young man. what is it?" Philip, who had been thinking over his opening, canio straight, to the point. " Yesterday. Dr. Grant, T asked your daughter to marry me. She consented, but last night she telephoned to me to say that you had decided objections to me as a son-in-law. Neither Irma nor I know what those objections are. I have come to ask you to be good enough to explain." Tho boy's faco was flushed, but. his eves looked very frankly straight at tho ohler man. Looking nt that young face, Dr. Grant found it difficult to strike a blow that would destroy all the confidence and youthful assurance 110 saw there. Tie temporised: "Do you earn your living? I didn't marry (ill T was well over thirty and not until T could support my wife." " I have chosen to bo an artist, and in such a profession one has to wait for any great measure of success. At tho same time I urn capable of making a small income, and I am confident that this will increase soon." "And in the meantime ?" " Mv father makes me an allowance." " Ah! Your father!" Philip's face went white. "If you have anything against my father. Dr. Grant. I should liko to hear it." he said angrily. The old man stood with his back to (.lie emptv fireplace looking down nt Philip. " I ohiect to you as a son-in-law." he said. " Once upon a time, when a father said that, it would have been sufficient! I see no necessity to give any reasons. If you are wise yon will leavo it at that, younnr man." "Explain yourself! Irma told mo you werp hinting all sorts of things about my father." "I'll explain • this much, young man. Tf you could support my daughter yourself it is possible that T miwhf not object to this man-ince.. Rut- I'll never have my daughter living on money that comes from David Teesdale. It is enough that she should want, to marry Ids son!" (To be continued daily.)