PRISONERS OF THE COUNCIL

New Zealand Times, Volume LII, Issue 12195, 21 July 1925, Page 10

PRISONERS OF THE COUNCIL

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

BY 1

LEWIS RAMSDEN

Author of “The Word of a Sonaerleigh,” “Red Cavalier," “My Comrade Frank*" “Under a Kingly Mask*" &c,, Ac* [COPYRIGHT.!.

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. CHAPTERS I. to lll.—The story opens on Clifton Suspension Bridge. John Travis mediates putting an end to affairs. He is accosted Dy a man >vno fancies he can read some design of the kind in Travis's attitude. The stranger shows a certain fear of a motor-car and its occupants. He offers John Travis two hundred and fifty pounds, being the half of his present i>osßeesions, if he will render him a service. John Travis, leing in immediate need of funds, agrees. They retire to a wood. The stranger gives his name as John Latimer, stating that spies are after himself and his wife. They change apparel, and John Travis agrees to adopt for the time ing the personality of John Latimer, thus giving the latter an opportunity of getting away unobserved and joining his wife on board ship. Attired as Latimer, John Travis makes his way back to the Suspension Bridge. He sees once more the motor-car, also the motorists. Their behaviour fills him with suspicion, and he enagges a hansom to drive him back to the hotel. Arrived there, he goes to Latimer's suite, and has a wash and change. The attendant tells him Mrs Latimer has arrived. He goes to the drawing-room, and sees there a beautiful young'girl, who does not appear to know him. She tells him she is Helen, and Travis remembers that Latimer's wife was Marie. Helen inquires for Marie. Travis finely out that ghe. is Latimer’s sister-in-law. They dine. Helen tells him that he is not like her sister's description of him. She says she has run away from the convent, and pleads to be allowed to star. He says it is impossible. As Marie does not turn up, she jumps to the conclusion they, have quarrelled. She lets him know she is the Countess Helen Fredro. He reveals to her that he is not her brother-in-law.

CHAPTERS IV. and V.—John Travis tells the Countess Helen that he is personating John Latimer, and . tells her what he knows. She gives him some of her earliest recollections, before she was 6ent to England. After some conversation he decides to take her to a lady friend of his mother's. He orders a cab, and they set out. The driver is muffled uo to the eyes. All goes well until the driver stops, and says there is a slight accident to the harness, and tusks his assistance. John Travis alights, and is captured, bound and carried to a waiting motor. The same fate overtakes the Countess Helen Fredro. They are ‘aken rapidly to London, and are brought to a standstill lefore a tall house with a covered-in yard, which they enter through a yellow door.

CHAPTER VI.—IN THE HOUSE OF THE YELLOW DOOR.

The place in. which our journey was thus suddenly and unexpectedly brought to an end was such as might have been used as a large warehouse or s- factory of some kind. But by Hie light of the couple of gas jets which provided scarcely sufficient illumination, its space appeared empty save for one motor-car, beside the machine by whch we had arrived, together with some tools and implements for repairs.

Our two captors now descended from the car, and Michael said:

“We have reached our destination, monsieur. Will you assist madam© to alight?” I ddi so, and at the same time took a careful look about me. I have said that the yellow door by which he had entered had been shut behind us, and I now saw it had also been strongly secured. Two soldierly-looking men (Russians they appeared to be) stood by, as though waiting for orders. There was only one other door-in the whole of-the oife warehouse; more there evidently had been, but they were now jail built up. This second door (an ordinary house door) stood at the top of three or four steps and gave entrance to the house. Towards it Michael led the way., Helen and I followed at his request.

Passing through the doorway we found ourselves in a big entrance hall, comfortably furnished in somewhat oldfashioned style. There was a flight of stairs leading to the upper parts of the house, and towards these stairs Michael directed us, himself falling a step or two behind. None of the others bad followed him from the warehouse, and he had closed the door after him. .

But -another door, one of those on the further side of the entrance hall, was open. Beyond it was a big front room such as might have been used as a drawing-room, but now unoccupied so far a& 1 could see into it by the light from the hall. Now was my chance, I thought; the only one I had seen as yet. If Helen and I could but get into that front room together we might escape, by the window, into the street.

“Be ready to follow me the instant 1 make a move,” I whispered into Helen’s ear.

“I can allow no talking yet, monsieur,” said Michael, adding goodhumouredly: “In a few minutes you will have ample opportunity for comparing experiences with madame.” I nodded, and stepped briskly up the stairs—so briskly that I gained a few steps ahead. Then I turned and made a leap.down at him.

I knew I was no match whatever for him in point of strength; but I lioiv?d to gain something from the unexpectedness of the attack and the advantage of my position. As I made for him I aimed a straight-out blow at his head. Of ani- 1 mosity against him I had none whatever; on the contrary there was, to me, something attractive about his personality ; but I had not to think about that. I must do something to regaiq freedom for the Countess Helen and myself.

Unfortunately for my attempt, Michael possessed quickness and alertness as well as abnormal strength. With lightning rapidity he warded my blow, striking up mv arm with such force that, for a while, it was completely numbed. Still I closed upon him, and with an impact so great that he lost his footing on the bottom stair but two, together we came to the floor with a resounding crash, and I could hear the low shriek of fear which the Countess Helen uttered. The next instant Michael wa a on his feet again. I had risen also, but in a most humiliating fashion—l was lifted up in Michael’s arms. Once more 1 was helpless as an infant, for he held me powerless with a hug which would have done credit.to the “rugged Russian bear” itself.

“Do not be alarmed, madame,” 1 heard him say, quite good-humouredly to the countess, while I ground my teeth in impotent rage. ‘‘Your husband is not hurt, but, since lie is disinclined of bis own will to go to the apartments prepared for you, I must carry him—that ia all. Will you do me the honour of preceding me, madame?” Meanwhile the door by which we had entered the hall had been flung open, and the men from the warehouse appeared. inquiring what was the matter. But their speech turned to laughter as they saw me being borne up-

stairs, and the sound of their mirth made my humiliation complete. Strangely enough it was . my captor himself who supplied some salve to the wound in toy self-esteem. The laughter of the others seemed to jar upon him, and he bade them retire. “You know well enough,” he said, “that I could carry any two of you -as easily as I am carrying monsieur.” Up flight alter flight lie bore me, and my weight did not seem to trouble him in the least, much less to distress him. I was a man who had always accounted myself able, so far as physical strength was, concerned, to hold my own with most, and never had I even imagined myself in a position so absurdly impotent as this. The thought drove me to make another struggle. “If you do not keep still, monsieur, 1 shall be compelled to inconvenience you,” said my captor with his imperturbable air of good humour, and inconvenience me he did. When I still persisted in my attempt to escape from his clutch he gave me one of those bear-like hugs which seemed to force all the breath out of my body, and mode me feel as though all my ribs had been staved in. I kept still perforce after that. To me the stairs seemed never-ending, and we had reached the topmost landing before Michael paused. ‘ “That is the room, madame,” 1 heard him say. “Be so good as to ,turn the handle; the door is unlocked. You will, I trust, find all that is needful for your comfort, and you will remain undisturbed until afternoon to-morrow, when those appointed to judge you are expected to meet.”

I heard the words clearly enough, but was still so stupefied that I could not, for the moment, fully grasp their meaning, much less raise any protest. I was in the same state when he placed me in an arm-chair, and after wishing the countess a courteous (goodnight, hastily withdrew.

With the same impersonal kind Gf feeling I also noticed that the door shut with a heavy deadened sound; that the key. or handle, on being turned, shot bolts into sockets like the locking of a safe, 1 and that after the door was closed, sounds from the outside seemed to be completely shut off; I could hear no noise of retreating footsteps down the passage leading to the stairway. Then T made a determined effort to shake, off my partial lethargy, and succeeded in rising to my feet; but a feeling of nausea, and giddiness seized me, and the light in the room, though it was not great, seemed to dazzle me.

With a .little cry of dismay the Countess Helen flew to me and gently forced me back into the chair. , “Oh!” she cried, “you are hurt after all. I was afraid you must be.” I tried to laugh, but am afraid the attempt must have appeared rathei ghastly. “It is nothing.” I said between sundry gasps. “A hit sick—shall be ah right directly—Michael’s attentions a bit too pressing—Jove, what a hug!” “He must be a horrid wretch,” she said indignantly.

“No; not a bad sort—really. Might have served ,me a lot worse.” She made no answer, but I heard the clink of glass. Then 6he was by my side again, holding something to my lips. . “Drink this'... and keep, quite quiet for a few minutes.” she said "with a pretty air of authority. I drank the wine she offered gratefully. Pqssibly the’ kindness was one she might have shown anyone under similar circumstances, but I seemed just then to see in her manner a tenderness greater than that of friendly concern. And in' a minute or so I felt most decidedly better, thpugh with returning strength conceit evaporated rapidly, and I again felt hitter shame and humiliation.

“What a poor puny fool you must think mel” I exclaimed, as I sat up again. " /

“Please don’t talk like that. I am so glad to see you are better, though.” “I wonder vou trouble at all. L wonder you don’t look upon me with dislike, or worse —with utter contempt.” “Such nonsense! Why should I?” “Because it was my folly led you into the trap, and then—why, I have proved mvself to be without either wit or the strength to get you out of it.” “I really do not think you ought to look at it in that wav. How could anyone imagine that such an adventuve would happen to us here—in England? And you cannot blame yourself for having fallen into the hands of a Samson. Do yon think I do not know it was bravo of you to make the attempt you did just now? And are you quite sure you are not badly hurt?” “To answer your last question, I assure you I am all right'"now,” I replied with a smile. “You are looking much better, but not quite all right yet. I had better give you another glass of this wine,” she said with her daintly sedate air. Apart from any other feeling which her manner might foster, there was something inexpressibly soothing to my wounded self-esteem in her solicitude. She still regarded me as worthy of her friendly sympathy, and not as the despicable creature, outwitted and defeated, I had appeared in my own eyes. The attitude was more grateful from her, since her own courage was evidently of a high order. This was proved by the very naturalness of her manner under circumstances in which the ordinary young lady might very easily he expected to be in a state of hysterical collapse. And now, as I sipped the glass of wine she handed me. I took a good look around the room. It was quite a small apartment, and contained l only such furniture as common comfort required —a table and a few chairs; but on the table were some appetising viands, together with the bottle or red wine from which the countess had twice filled my glass. There was light from a couple of gas brackets surmounting a tiny grate in which ga9 simulated the cheerful glow of a coal fire. The floor was covered with linoleum, but in front of the hearth was a thick comfortable rug. The one small window was curtained. and on that side of the room opposite the fireplace was a doorway hung with curtains in lieu of a door. As I took in these details a full sense of the extreme awkwardness of our position came upon me. I hastily put down the wineglass, and going to the door by which I had been brought in, gave it a kick which should have been a resounding one —only the door would not resound. It gave back a dull thud, such as the door of a firtoroof safe would give. I moved round the room and sounded the walls, with the same result in every part. I examined the windows,

which were small, grimy, and strongly barred on the outside. Then I passed beyond the curtained doorway, and discovered that the suite of apartments was complete. There was a bedroom, small, and plainly furnished, without fireplace, and ventilated by means of a littletiron grating near the ceiling. Also between bedroom and sitting-room was a bathroom. In each apartment the walls, when tapped, gave back the same deadened sound.

Having completed my examination, which, though brief, was thorough, even to sounding the floors and ceilings of hotli apartments, I came back to the door by which I had been brought in, and again commenced kicking and hammering upon it.

“What are you doing?” asked Helen, who had looked on with curiosity.

“Attempting the impossible, I ' am nfraid—trying to make those below hear me. But I really believe that, whatever noise I might make in here, they could not get so much as a sound of it outside. I suppose the rooms were really intended for a prison. I don’t see what other purpose they could serve, and they are as secure and as ingeniously constructed as a safe deposit.” “I suppose it is rather more comfortable than prisons usually are,” said the countess consolingly as she glnnced at the spread ta.ble and the arm-chairs before the glowing gas fire. “Michael said something about nobodv coming until to-morrow, didn’t he?” I asked. “Yes,” she replied. “But it is ridiculous—impossible!” I hurst out. “Don’t you see, Countess? You and T alone together! We can’t stay like this.” The beautiful eyes gazed at me frankly, hut with a look of perplexity. Then a demure smile came to the corners of the alluring mouth. “T really do not see nnv he'n for it,” she said, nnd'nctually laughed: (To bo Continued.)