THE DOUBLE PROBLEM

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXIV, Issue 22859, 14 October 1937, Page 23

THE DOUBLE PROBLEM

By FRANCES BROWN Author of "Anne Sinclair's Love Story," etc., etc.

CHAPTER XXVl.—(Continued) It was during the iarly hours after a sleepless night that illumination came suddenly and Bruce Cliesson remembered about tho mysterious case of Michael Enderby, various reports of which had appeared from time to time in tho daily papers last October. Yes, ho remembered it was in October because the' alleged attack on Michael Enderby had almost, if not quite, coincided with tho disappearance of his cousin Geoffrey. And then camo another illuminating flash—a suggestion—a possibility that eifectually banished any further idea of sleep, a possibility which would necessitate his losing no time in seeking out Lord Clavers. But such, alasl is human frailty—it was two full days after that before Bruce Chesson could bring himself to nny decisive step. In fact, it was the morning succeeding the memorable dinner party at tho Grange when, having put temptation behind hinx, he set out for Lord Clavers' house to tell him that ke strongly suspected that Geoffrey was living. Those two days when temptation held him in its luring grip were tho blackest he had ever known. During long feverish hours he had tramped his room backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards with Natalie's sweet face ever before his mental vision. Why should he speak? Why should he give voice to his suspicions? After all he might be mistaken in the possibility that had flashed to him in thoso early wakeful hours. Therefore why not let things slide and, if no further development ensued, in a year's time he might win the girl he loved, and then —•

For a few brief delirious moments anticipation of the happiness that might bo in store dazzled him and then, to stab him, came remembrance of Natalie when she walked with him in the park —a faint flush suffusing cheeks hollowed by suffering—a fluttering sigli from softly parted lips, eyes wide and shining momentarily she glimpsed what the return of Geoffrey would mean to her. . . . And then her voice in response to his hypocritical wish that he could find the man she loved: "Ah! ... if only you could, Bruce!" All through the next night in his dreams he was tormented and pursued with the tempter ever at bis elbow whispering insidiously in his ear, painting a dazzling future, a glorified earth shared by him and Natalio alone. He awoke haggard-eyed and unrefreshed with no appetite for the tempting breakfast that was later served up for him.

At mid-day he summoned his man, told him he was going to see Lord Clavers and might be away until late. Meanwhile his clothing and certain books were to be packed in readiness for a prolonged sojourn abroad. It was Lady Clavers, however, who came to Bruce Chesson in the morning room into which he was shown, and as soon as he saw her he knew that s metliing wonderful had happened. The proud youthful-looking face was quivering with emotion, the eyes usually so coldly indifferent save toward those she loved, were alight with something that he, favourite though he was, had never glimpsed before. She came toward him as she invariably did, with outstretched hands of welcome and, with a broken smile, laid her beautiful white head on his shoulder. "Is it Geoffrey?" he whispered. She nodded. "He's upstairs now," Bhe said, "and Natalie is with him." The arm that held her tightened convulsively. With a swift movement Bruce Chesson bent bis handsome head and kissed the snow white hair. "Thank God!" be said simply. And in his heart he knew that he meant it; in his heart ho knew that the other way, had he been allowed to take it, would have only led to misery and disappointment. "We had a telephone message early this morning from a Mr. Keith Darren, and Geoffrey' was brought here an hour ago." went on Lady Clavers. "Brought here?" echoed Bruce Bharply. , , Sh3 nodded again, and gently disengaging herself, walked over to a cushioned settee. "Sit down, dear boy, and 111 tell you all about it. It's a terrible story, an aimazing story, that Mr. Darrell, who is a .young detective, has just told us." Then in broken, halting sentences — at times breaking down completely under the emotion that gripped her—Lady Clavers made known all that had happened to her son from the time of his mysterious disappearance on the eve of his wedding up to an hour ago when he had been brought back to his own home and carried upstairs. "He recovered consciousness late last night," she said when she had related all she knew, "and with it his memory was restored, but as regards what took place after losing his way in the fog and entering that awful house, Jus mind is now a complete blank. The doctors are hoping they may be able to treat the disfigurement on his face so that in time it will be barely noticeable." she added after a moments silence.

Bruco nodded. "Poor old Geoff!" ho said gently, and bis thoughts flow- to the stricken niaTi upstairs and —to Natalie, and again he thanked God that things were as they were. . But of his own expedience two nights previously when lie had followed Geoffrey Stnnton in a taxi, he said nothing. For how could he explain those two terrible, nerve-racking days of temptation he had allowed to intervene before coming forward to tell Lord and Lady Olavers that he believed he had found their son? How account for the delay? What would tliev think of him? And—direst thought of all —what would Natalie think? But. later in the day when Bruce Chesson saw Natalie with the light of n new-born happiness transfiguring hei charming face and shining out of hei golden brown eyes, he was seized anew with a sense of shame for those two days of heart-wrung temptation, and he blurted out the truth to her in all its naked significance. He sought to palliate nothing; to the girl who listened with paling cheeks and a slow wondering pity, it seemed as though this man who had loved her for so long was scourging his soul with whips and lashing his body in punishment for the tempting thoughts he had allowed to harbour there. At last she could bear it no longer. "Bruce, don't!" she choked. "Don't blame yourself like that ... I ... T understand. I'm a woman now, you know, not just a careless thoughtless girl like I was in tl*>se far-off days—and, Bruce —you are hurting me , terribly ..." "Then you forgive me for all?" ho demanded, searching the piquant face with hungrily despairing eyes. "For nil," she said, simply, putting her small, soft hand in his, then lifther eyes. "You would never have done it. Bruce," she added. "You couldn t. It isn't in your nature. It wouldn't be you if you had."

(COPYRIGHT)

A BRISKLY-MOVING STORY OF MYSTERY AND ROMANCE

CHAPTER XXVII. Stephen Maine's way oui "Lord Clavcrs is furious. Ho says nothing on earth will prevent him prosecuting." Keith JDarrcll laid down his hat and stick and drew up a chair. It w<is the morning after the momentous dinner party, and he had just returned from Lord Clavcrs' house where Geoffrey had been taken a few hours ago. The man known for so long as Professor Green, raised his brows. "I'm sorry for that," he said, and a troubled look momentarily clouded his dark blue eyes. Keith looked at him critically. Stripped of those disfiguring goggles, with hair closely cut, to say nothing of the change in voice, it was no wonder that Stephen Maine had not recognised his, former friend. Michael Enderby seen in broad daylight looked not a day more than his thirty-five years. As Professor Green he had presented the appearance of fifty or more. "Sorry?" echoed Peith, "but surely after such villainy " Enderby smiled, but there were grave lines round the thin-lipped mouth. "Speaking for myself," ho said. "I would have let Maine off for the sake of those days out West. Ho was always a restless, dissatisfied kind of chap, but they were good old days, and—" He paused reminiscently then, pulling himself up with a jerk: "That bag of nuggets I brought here with mo I intended as a present to him," he said, quietly. "Phew!" whistled Keith, his eyes wide with astonishment. "If he'd only known thatl"

"He knows now," grimly. "I told him last night." "Heaping more coals of fire?" "No-o, not exactly. I simply wanted him to know, because he'd always looked upon me as a stingy beggar, but that was in tho early days when I wanted to save. As soon as I'd made my pile I thought of hira —you see I've no one really belonging to me." Keith nodded, his gaze now dreamily retrospective. He was thinking of last night with its dramatic climax —he was envisioning eyes stripped of the mask they had worn for months, and in his ears was a voice deep and musical with its note of anguished reproach: "Steve!" "I'd "got more nuggets and a few thousands in notes." Enderby was saying, "in a small aron-clamped box, heavily insured that fortunately for my plan of revenge I'd left at Charing Cross cloakroom before keeping my appointment with Maine, otherwise I could not have blossomed out as the rich and somewhat eccentric Professor Green."

Keith nodded again in an absent way, his thoughts still lingering round tho events of last night. "Yes, I'm sorry there's to be a prosecution," lio heard the other saying, "because apart from Maine and old associations, my sympathies are decidedly with that very attractive and brave little woman, Nada Bradley. She may have been much to blame, but only innocently so, and there is a certain something about her that is irresistibly charming—l am speaking as a confirmed old bachelor, of course," ho smiled on seeing the lips of Keith Darrell twitch. "Humph!" said Keith, "hut look here, professor —I mean Enderby—there's one thing you haven't explained to me yet, and I confess to being curious on the point." "Yes?" "Well, we all know now what took place on October 16, and how Stanton barged in as soon as he saw from the shadows on the blind that something queer was happening—by tho way, it was odd that Maine and Bradley should not have fastened the hall door, wasn't it, considering . . "Oh, I don't know about that. Think of the lonely position; would it occur to them that anyone would be wandering on the Heath at that hour near a house known to be tenpntless and half in ruins? Then tho fog and everything, no, 1 think they felt pretty safe, and you must remember I had not received an invitation to stay the night, and locking the door might have, I don't say would, but it might have roused my suspicions, for 1 expected Stephen Maine only, not two men. However, what is it you want to know?" "Where did you spend your time before you began to come to tho hospital?" "Here, in this house." (To be concluded)