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New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXVI, Issue 23280, 24 February 1939, Page 17

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By EDEN PHILLPOTTS Author of "Yellow Sands," "The Farmer's Wife," etc., etc.

{CO P 7 RIGHT)

A romance that commences in Peru and takes three young people, filled with the spirit of adventure, on a quest for /Inca treasure.

CHAPTER IV.—(Continued) "We will live in London," said Mrs Aylmer, "for I could not endure to make my headquarters elsewhere. But knowing your love of the country and your hobbies and Jane's devotion to queer birds in cages, there is no reason why you should not. have a country home also —on the Thames perhaps — where you and she can go from time to time and find rare plants and so on. But you must never go far off again. The thought of you suffering the unnatural heat of the tropics and working away day and night at the mine has often distressed me."

Mrs. Aylmer always talked in this exaggerated way, but. it meant nothing. The affairs of his late parent proved to be far more prosperous than Torn had expected to find them. A man can no longer hide the truth of his financial status after the grave has closed upon him, and Tom discovered that unexpected wealth was his. Jane Bradsbaw did not hesitate to explain the mystery, and, possessing no great admiration for her future mother-in-law, guessed correctly at its origin; but Mrs. Aylmer declared that her husband's will caused her infinite surprise and pain.

"Your clear father was evasive concerning his means," she told the young man, "and, looking back, I must confess to much natural grief when 1 consider that he did not let me into his secrets. He was no doubt wise to conceal the truth from a greedy world, but it comes as a shock to me to know that he lived so absurdly within his means, when everything that must have added to my pleasure and comfort lay iwithin our reach. Such deliberate and calculated iinlcindness floods mo with tears whenever I think of it —arid doubtless always will. For five-and-twenty years we lived together, and save for one cloud, soon after we were married, when in a fit of temper, your dear father advertised that he would not be responsible for my accounts, no darkness has ever dimmed our married life I was a good wife, Tom, and you must never think otherwise, it might have been more seemly and humane and usual to leave his money to me for my life, knowing well that no inducement could possibly tempt me to leave a penny to anybody but you in the future; but we must not doubt the provision of the dead, and I well know that you will do what you can to heal the pain that he, doubtless unintentionally, caused me when I heard what he had arranged." "He knew you were safe with me, mother," said Tom. "You and Jane are inv world now." '"Yes," she answered, "and nobody ' knows better than I do that a wile should be a man's first thought, but we need not harp upon that. You will marry, of course, as soon as possible and plan your future; but 1 must be included in that future, giy precious son. To be left out of it would kill me. "Rather so—of course you will. Yon need feel no anxiety whatever as to your comfort and happiness—and luxury for that matter." Under his father's will young Aylmer found himself sole residuary legatee of an estate running into three hundred thousand pounds without such value as the Peruvian mine might represent. Legacies were left to old servants ana certain of the staff in Lima, while as to the mine itself, the late owner was explicit. He left it to orn > directed that it might either be sold or turned into a private company, lie added that if a purchaser could be found, so much the better, but suggested not less than fifty thousand pounds as the selling price. Of Mercy, he wrote: "I leave my wife in the sole keeping of my son, Tom Ayimer, and said no more about her. Jane Bradshaw dwelt with a brother at Chislehurst. They were orphans with small means, but every year the industrious pair bettered themselves. Nicholas Bradshaw, like his sister, lived for the aviaries, and stood high in the kingdom of bird-fanciers. Jane had made special culture of that exquisite Australian grass finch, the Gouldian, mastered the difficult requirements of these dainty and costly little gems, and crowned herself with glory when sh.e produced a yellow-crested bird instead of the usual black or crimson-headed varieties. Thus her name was reverenced where Gouldians were known, and she found the cult increasingly popular in spite of such stiff prices as her treasures demanded. Nicholas specialised in budgerigars, and had achieved a new colour. He dreamed of a scarlet budgerigar, and pursued his quest with. undying hope, m spite of scientific assurances that the achievement must be impossible. Jane was a dark girl, handsome rather than pretty. Experts decided that her face showed too much character and intelligence for beauty. Her eyes were dark and not very large; her brow was somewhat high, her countenance distinguished by a perfect mouth and nose, and a chin, not massive or particularly large, but finely moulded and firm of contour. Her colour was high her hair black and lustrous. She took'care of herself, but cared not miich for clothes, and disliked the addition of cosmetics. In this attitude Tom supported her. Jane had a dimple on her left cheek which her lover declared to be more precious than any possible decoration from a beauty parlour. She was twenty-one, tall, slightly built, but strong, practical, not lacking in tact, and a sound woman of business. Her brother esteemed Tom Ayimer highly, but felt a little depressed under present circumstances, because he knew that his sister must soon leave him—a prospect that made him uneasy. Her new gift was made welcome and Jane soon won the Peruvian parrot. He took up his quarters in a warm house, where the din of lesser parrots cheered him, and he swiftly perceived the engaging qualities of his mistress, ; while she—an expert in bird physionomy —declared the blue and orange stranger to have a somewhat human cast of countenance. "He looks like an old man —but not a very nice old man," she said, and her remark reminded Tom of something that Signor Fernandez had told him in a jesting moment. "If I were a Buddhist," Jacob had declared, "and believed in reincarnation and transmigration of the soul, I should be much disposed to think that Benny Boss was peering at us from under his parrot's purple eyelids." Jano approved. "Quite likely,'' she declared. She heard the odd story of her bird, but Tom was too busy for some time to think again about; it. Everything proved to be in order, and, at his sweetheart's advice, he determined to sell the mine if a purchaser were forthcoming. He wrote to Fernandez accordingly, and in the course of a few weeks learned that Jacob would despatch competent persons to make investigations. Tom communicated with Felice Pardo also, and wrote letters to certain older men who had been remembered by his father. Guessing, however, that his friend might be alarmed at the prospect of coming changes, and ask as to his own future if the mine were sold, young Ayimer begged Pardo to feel no sort of uneasiness for himself, "Need-,

loss to say that Angus and you will be all right whatever happens," he told Felice. Pardo, he guessed, would stop with the silver mine in any case and prove his value to a future possessor; while as for the Scot, Tom had always seen in him a great explorer, and guessed that presently Angus and himself, and, possibly Jane, might probe the ruins of buried cities, and add to the knowledge of tlie world concerning them. Upon the subject of the future Jane had spoken quite definitely, and after hearing Mrs. Aylmer's wishes declined to consider them for a moment. "To live with your mother, Tom is utterly unthinkable," she said. "We're very good friends —as far as two women can be without a single ideal in common —but if she were as angelic inside as sho always looks outside, I still wouldn't risk it. You must tell her it couldn't work. She loves society and we loatlie it. She is more sophisticated than anybody I ever met, while you and 1 are utter ruflians when it comes to social life. To live in a town house with your mother would bo Hades, and now she is going to have money to burn, you'll be up to your neck ill financial bother from the start anyway. She told me herself that she was going to make up for lost time and assume the position she was entitled to. You can guess what that means."

Tom laughed. "Of course we couldn't live in London, and she couldn't live anywhere else, so she'll understand her wishes in that matter can't take shape. She is assuming that about three-quarters of the estate's income will be hers. She told me that, since I could rely on the capital, it would only be seemly for her to enjoy the interest during the few years that remain to her." "She's not fifty and the best preserved woman I ever saw," declared Jane. "If your mother had twenty thousand to-morrow, she'd feel convinced that decent life was impossible under thirty thousand, and feel you were your father's son and treating her with cruelty. Whatever you arrange for her, you'll have to keep a tidy reserve to meet the inevitable shocks she'll arrange for you." "Mustn't take our fences till we come to 'em, Jane. How's the parrot and what have you called himP" he asked. "Too soon to name him yet," she answered, "though it doesn't seem possible to call hinl anything but 'Benny.' That reminds me. You remember Mr. Fernandez believes that lie's talking to us all the time, and laughing because we can't understand him. There may be some truth in it and I want you to do what he advised. I've listened' jolly carefully to the bird and I'm sure he's saying something in human language of some sort. He says ten things that appear to be words. Four of them are two syllables long; two are three syllables long; three are one syllable only; one is four syllables. They mostly sound perfectly mad to me; but there's Gregory Barbour at the British Museum, a great swell on languages—and an old pal of my father's. I'm going to ask him to come and listen. He lives quite close and often visits us. You remember him?" "You'd better not be there if he does come," said Tom. "If Benny has taught the parrot ten words, the betting is they are too foul for your delicate ears."

"Oh dear no. You've given me a lurid picture of Benny and he may have been a bad hat; but I'm sure he was much too bright to waste time teaching his parrot to swear. Here are ten possible words and it must have been hard work and needed much patience to make the bird get them right. Anyway I'll ask Gregory to come to lunch on Sunday. He lives at Sevenoaks. He's vain, but exceedingly clever and always kind to me. He'll take it quite seriously. He takes everything seriously. Most British Museum people do so in my experience." Ayimer agreed, and a week later came to spend the day at Chislehurst, bringing Maine with him. Angus had spent a fortnight with relations at Aberdeen and now waited on his friend's decisions. He cared much for Peru and was anxious to return to it. CHAPTER V. AN EXPERT Mr. Gregory Barbour was a Bmall man of fifty years old. He already grew bald, and the result was to make his high forehead loftier still. He shaved clean and his face was withered and lacked animation, as often happens where no sense of humour lights the countenance. But his small slate-col-oured eyes were bright behind his unusually large spectacles; his mouth was neat and firm; his chin tended to recede. The linguist had known Jane's parents in their time and entertained considerable admiration for her, but he had striven to turn the girl from her hobby.

"With your university career and your excellent degree," said Gregory, "this pursuit of rearing tropical fowl for profit is unworthy of you, Jane." He always talked like that. Jane, however, preferred Gouldian finches to the paths of scholarship. Mr. Barbour tended to be a little stiff with strangers until he had gauged their calibre. Aylmer he knew already and regretted that Jane had not chosen a man of finer intellect, but Angus he had never met, and young Maine made certain remarks that inclined Gregory to take a favourable opinion of him.

Angus guessed that Jane's new parrot might possibly be speaking an obsolete, South American language; but Tom reminded him of old Jacob's comment when he first propounded that theory. "A language," said Mr. Barbour, "dies hard. I know, of course, such rudimmtary fragments of Aztec and Inca as still persist, and have instructed explorers in my time to seek the remote fastnesses of foreign countries where survivals may best be hoped for. When I am brought face to face with your parrot, after luncheon, 1 shall bring to the arena all that is known of any tongue that ho can possibly bo supposed to have heard and chronicled in his own mechanical fashion. A parrot, of course, is wholly ignorant of any meaning in his pronouncements; but if a meaning exists in this case, then probably I am moro likely to detect it than another." Fortified by direct sunlight and a chili, the bird faced his ordeal in good spirits. But patience was needed, for Jane's gorgeous parrot had now turned his attention to the Kookaburra, who lived not far distant from him. He said "Benny Boss" three times, then eyed Mr. Barbour solemnly for some seconds and finally broke into a peal of raucous laughter. Gregory flushed and turned upon the company. "Is that what you have summoned me to report upon, Jane?" he asked. "If so, the jest is ill-timed—as your jests are apt to be." "Wait, wait!" she begged. "He's only picked that up from my Laughing Jack. He'll go back to his own conversation in a minute." Mr. Barbour calmed down. "Evil communications corrupt good manners, as Menander so truly remarks," he answered. "I thought St. Paul said it," ventured Nicholas. "He did, but Menander said it first," replied the little man. (To be continued daily.)