THE BLUE SASH

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXIV, Issue 22777, 10 July 1937, Page 17 (Supplement)

THE BLUE SASH

(COFTMGBT)

By OTTWELL BINNS Author of " Tho Flaming Crescent," "The Cry In the Night," nanaom a Heritage,

MYSTERY AND ADVENTURE WITH THE FOREIGN LEGION

CHAPTER Xll.—(Continued) "Her mother!" Lambert thought, and looked at the other portrait. It was that of a handsome, strong-featured man in the early thirties. Unlike the other portrait, it revealed nothing of any relationship to Catherine, who, was very much her mother's daughter, if, at a guess, this was her father, who, in Mr. Longden's phrase, had just walked out of the picture. Ho snapped the locket, and put it away. "I know the owner," he began "The ex-priest nodded, and then jerked his head sideways. "That girl who was out there last night, perhaps ?" "Yes," answered Lambert, "I hoped to find her here." "And instead tliero is that trinket." "Where did you find it?" asked Lambert quickly. "It was near that man who got his grtial. I set my foot upon it while you and the captain were examining the fellow, and I picked it up." "In that room —" began Lambert in a troubled voice. "In that room, brother. The girl must have been there, perhaps when that man was stricken down." "God help her! Yes." "And we do not find her now!" commented Laurent. "Nor the others. Therefore where they are, it is likely she will be. That is sense!" "But where?" "God knows!" said the other, shaking his head. "Some hole in Marrakesh, perhaps, or on the way to a Kasbali in the Atlas which may be the destination of those guns. . . A\ ho finds them will find the girl. That is as certain as Judgment Day." Charles Lambert, with the knowledge of things of which the other was ignorant, shared the conviction. Catherine's own father had dropped out of tilings in the interior years ago; and with the date of her inheritance drawing nearer ho was sure that she was in deadly peril of the same fate. Marrakesh was a violent city where crime might be wrought in secret, while the Atlas with its starkness and loneliness was a stage whore any evil thing could be done unnoticed. For a moment lie was dumb, shaken bj apprehension, then he broke out a little desperately "Laurent, we must find hor." "Yes," replied the other. "But where shall we look for her, my frilnid? The burrows of Marrakesh arc a multitude, the hiding places of the Atlas legion."

want anjr international incidents i "I do not know. But we must nose out of the place. Laurent that girl is iu extreme peril. Wo have but a few days in which to find her." "Ah, you think those guns are to be used almost at once?" ."Guns! I a in not thinking of them. The danger 1 fear is for the girl. None of those others stand m the shadow o. it. For her it may mean death—or worse. And there is no one to help her but us. There arc tilings I will tell you later; but now I just say that ii harm befalls her, I shall never know happiness again." '.'So!" The ex-priest nodded sympatheticallv. "I might have guessed it, niv friend. Always the lost rib troubles men. Thus it was with me—and 1 hud taken vows. But we still have time—"A few days only, 1 am convinced!" "Then there are no hours to waste!" "No; we will go to the Commandant at once." Laurent nodded. "One must consult authority. That is according to the book. . But ill an affair of this kind, two men can do more than the whole administration —lor they can move secretly. When we have seen him, we shall know what to do. . . . But there is that head of yours "I have forgotten it. Cornel we will go immediately." , . Laurent brought tlio donkey, nncl they left the house of tragedy, making a slow way through the crowded streets to the Government quarters. As they entered a sunlit court they met an Arab boy leaving, who grinned at them in open wonder for 110 more than himself did they fit so fine a place. A scntrv challenged tliein, but in tlio same moment the officer who had huiricd to make his report appeared and they were promptly ushered into a lnr< r c room that served for office, on the" walls of which were large-scale army maps. As they entered, the commandant was seated at a desk thoughtfully considering a sealed letter much crumpled and begrimed. " So, avc were too late at that house. That gap of hours cheated us, liein? But it" is the end that counts. 1 have already sent messages for all caravans going south to be searched, and all the roads to the Atlas will bo watched. With the net flung wide those scoundrels will be taken —and with never a whisper of those guns in Marrakesh. That dead man they left for a souvenir will roast their chicken. . . . And two? You will continue! . . . But yes!" He looked at Lambert. "If you are able— ' " [ shall continue, mon Colonel." "Good!" The commandant tapped the desk with tlio corner of the im-» opened letter, and then spoke .sharply. " There is this letter. It may have a

bearing on tlio matter. I do not know. It is for you, my dear Lambert, and you owe mo twenty francs which 1 have just paid the bearer of it as requested on the envelope. ... 1 may have been cheated, but there is certainly something unusual about the letter. If you will read, perhaps—•" He handed the begrimed letter to Lambert, who without waiting to read the inscription on the envelope, tore it open, took out the half sheet of note paper it held and read swiftly. Then he gave an ejaculation. "Ah!" said tlio commandant, and waited. " These scoundrels are for the Grand Atlas. There is no other destination named, but —" " You can guess one, perhaps?" " But yes, moil Colonel. With them is that bandit, Ou Ali. And even now 1 think ho plays a bandit's game." " It is in that letter?" The commandant's hand was held out. " It is between the lines," answered Lambert quickly, as he handed the letter over. The commandant read it very deliberately, as if weighing the words, for the letter was in English. At the end lie spoke aloud the name which was signed. " Catherine Harlowe." Then lie asked. "An English mademoiselle?" " .Resident in Morocco. Her guardian is the Greek —Kyriakos, of whom you have heard." " The rascal who is running these machine-guns. We will have him shot or sent to Cayenne." The commandant looked at the* letter again. " There is j a postscript in French, 1 see." He read aloud once more. 'A moi la legion!' That is a familiar cry to you and me. Mademoiselle needs help." "Desperately! I am very sure of that, sir! This affair apart, she was already in peril from that scoundrelly guardian, who I am sure was plotting evil atrainst her. Now —you have read the letter—she is in sevenfold peril. She saw that man killed. The Greek her guardian was knocked down when ho protested, and that blackguard* Si Ben Rhea had bidden her prepare quickly for a journey. . . . That letter, no doubt, was written while she prepared; and written with a pen dipped in fear. She is brave. In London she saved my life when it was attempted bv the German —" ""Ah! You did not tell me that. A lady of such loyalty must not be abandoned. No! . . . But there aio those guns—" ( " Two men travelling quickly may overtake the party, mon Colonel. They may even serve better than a company of the Legion for they can move secretly." " You think the guns and the lady will bo found together—" "Not far from each other if we find them* quickly. ... Laurent just now hit the truth. Ou Ali is a bandit.

in «-»»» s —London Opinion Si Ben Rhea is little better They have the guns and they withhold the price. Kyriakos is rich no doubt. And they mean to squeeze him like a lemon for ransom." " And mademoiselle?" _ "God knows! But she is in danger from both the Greek and those others. . The story is a long one and time is precious—" " Yes," interrupted the commandant. " You will wish to go. I shall trust von with a--'twofold task But though you lose the lady those guns must be found. . . . That is the first duty. . . . Morocco is pacified and we must not have any little warlike affairs or the deputies in Paris will have a colic. . . . You will make your own arrangements. You will go at o,lce * • • • But those guns niv son?" "They shall be brought back if we live, moil Colonel —or destroyed "Good!" The commandant made a gesture. "That is a promise.' Then he gave a laugh of understanding. Ido not exact one as regards mademoiselle! No! For there is need of none. A man looks after his own, hey?" "True, mon Colonel." . . . And out in the sunlit courtyard as Lambert mounted the ass the expriest looked at him and echoed tlio commandant's word —"A man looks after his own, hey? But tell 1110, brother, whom do I look after?" "You are of the Legion, Laurent," answered Lambert with some feeling. "And 110 man wearing the blue sash ever turned from the cry—'A moi la Legion!' " "The devil! No. At that call I who was onco a priest have helped to beatup an Arab Street in Sidi-Bel-Abbes to save a drunken fool." "And when a girl sends out the call, Laurent " "The first that ever did, I'll vow,' chuckled the other. "But one must not refuse the call. No!" He threw open his dishevelled garments of a mountebank. Underneath' all, round his waist, hidden from sight was a sash of deep navy blue, wrapped round and round his waist —the twelve-foot sash of the legionary. He laughed cheerfully. "As you sec 1 wear the sash always,' my friend. It is good for one's interior and keeps ofl the chill in the desert nights. . . . And with the sash —the obligation. 'A moi la Legion!' That is the call! We are the answer. And we must be quick, liein?" Ho smote tlio donkey's rump with a heavy hand. "Forward! Child of Satan!" ho cried, then half under his breath he began to hum- - "Marchons gaiement Nos bravos Legionnaires " (To bo continued daily)