PRISONERS OF THE COUNCIL

New Zealand Times, Volume LII, Issue 12201, 28 July 1925, Page 12

PRISONERS OF THE COUNCIL

PUBLISHED BY SPE CIAL ARRANGEMENT.

BY

LEWIS RAMSDEN

Author of “The Word of a Somerlqigh,” “Red Cavalier,” “My Comrade Frank,” “Under a Kingly Mask,” &c., &c [COPYRIGHT.]

SYNOPSIS OP PBEVIOTJS CHAPTERS. CHAPTERS I. to lll.—The story opens on Clifton Suspension Bridge. John Travis mediates putting an end to affAira. He is accosted fancies he can read some design or tne kind in Travis’s attitude. The stranger shona a certain fear of a motor-car and its oooupantß. He offers John Travis tro hundxeCand fifty pounds, being the half of his present possessions, if he v ill render mm a service. John Travis, leinff 5a iainddiate need of agrees. They 1 retire to a wood. The stranger gives his same as John Latimw, stating that spies are after himself aj*d hie wife. They change apparel, and John Travis agrees to adopt for the time being 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, lheir behaviour fills him with- suspicion* ,ana he enngges & hansom to drive him - bacs 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 - s wife was Marie. Helen inquires for Marie. Travis finds out that She is Latimer's sister-in-law. They dine. Helen tells him that he is not like he# sister's description of him. Shs says she has run away from the convent, and pleads to be allowed to stav. 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 leveals to !, er that he is not her brotherin CHAPTEBS IV. and V.—John Travis tells the Countess Helen that he is personating John Latimer, and. tells her what he knows. She gives him pome of her earliest recollections, before she was sent to England. After some conversation he decides to takw her to a lady friend of his mother's. He orders a cab, aid they set out The driver is muffled up to : the eyes. All goes well until the driver stops, and says there is a slight accident .to the harness, and asks r.is assistance. ohn Travis alights, - and. is captured, bound and carried to a waiting motor. Fhe same fate.overtakes tte Coontess Helen Fredro. They are taken rapidly to London, and are. brought t 0 a standstill lefore a tall house with a covered-in yard, whioh they enter through a vallow door. . CHAPTERS VI. to Vlll.—Michael, the big man who bound 1 John Travis, conducts them through .this large building into the'house. As they are ascending the staircase Travis makes a dash for liberty, but is immediately overpowered and carried upstairs. He and. the Countess ate lodged at the top of .the house in apartments which are evidently need as a.prison. John Travis, after trying the door and the walls, comee to the conclusion that they are as fast as if they' were in a safe. The Countess gives him wine.. He is troubled that her name may be implicated through being confined in the same apartments as himself. They become good friends. The following day a letter from Miehael gives them the probable durance of their present situation. The Latimer’s portmanteaux have been sent on from the hotel. CHAPTERS VII (Continued) to Xl. During the two days of confinement the friendship between John Travis and the Countess Helen ripens fast. They learn all about one another’s past, and he tells her how he was sued for breach of promise. He promises to befriend her in case she is ' retained captive. ,

CHAPTER SHI.—BEFORE THE JUDGES. “Will yon try,,to realise, Mr .Travis, that a guard beside yon is holding* a revolver within an inch of your ear? Will you understand that at a word from me the weapon would be fired, and, afterwards, even should inquiry be made, no one would ever discover any trace of yon, or 'the manner of your end ? Think of that before you again describe as ‘faree’- the proceedings of this tribunal.” Whither I had been led, by devious passages, I could not tell, and the precise, passionless voice, with its slight trace of foreign accent, seemed to oome,. blindfolded as I still remained, frbm mysterious darkness. I did my best not to flinch; not to recede from the attitude I had assumed—one of self-confidence, with a refusal to accept as entirely serious the situation into which 1 had been brought. “Melodrama might be a better word. Yqu. be© the penalties you - appear to! threaten seem so ridiculously disproportionate to my offence.” .“Explain yourself, sir.” Thy more human note was encouraging, and to my intense relief the muzzle of the revolver was taken away from my ear. , “For a tempting monetary consideration I undertook to play a part which seemed to me harmless; in doing'so I have blundered into concerns aboat which I know and care nothing. What good can it be to you if you kill me, or if you keep me prisoner?” “None,” was the ready answer. “You are a bold man, Mr Travis, thus to take upon yon to question us; but because of your boldness we*, will tell you why yon are brought before ' us. It" is because although, in the services upon which we are engaged, we take little account of our own lives or the lives of others, and though death is the penalty of those who would reveal .the least of our secrets, yet we do not slay for slaying’s sake. We would find reason, if we can, to spare your l : fe; therefore upon your own replies to our questions depends your fate.” Again I simply bowed by way of answer. There was something about the calm, unemotional voice whioh made me realise I was before a tribunal whose decrees would be inexorable as Fate. Not even when I had felt the cold muzzle of the revolver against my ear had I been more impressed with the imminent danger of ,my position. “You are required to state the particulars of your meeting with- John Latimer and of your arrangement with him by which you contrived, for a while, to delude our agents.” I had anticipated same such' question as this, and had- decided there was nothing to gain by withholding any portion of the story. In telling all I should be committing no breach of faith over my dealing with Latimer, for he had told me nothing, and I. had learned nothing which my captors did not know, and very much more beside So I related about my meeting with John Latimer on the Clifton Suspension Bridge; about his offer of what was, to me, a large sum of money for an easy though unusual service. "Then I gave an account of my meeting with the Countess Helen and of the subsequent events which I have set forth at length in these pages. My narrative was listened to with a silence which was, at times, disconcerting, for being in darkness, it now and again seemed as though no one was there to listen at all, save the two men who stood motionless, one on

either, side of me. But, when I had concluded, the calm voice was asking me some questions, short but searching. Then there was a pause during which I heard, for the first time, the whisper of voices in consultation and a rustling of papers.' . “It is in your favour, Mr Travis,” said the voice at length, “that your story, though extraordinary, agrees in every particular with what we had already ascertained. We now come to the consideration of another and a somewhat delicate matter. The success of the ruse you played upon us, aided as this was by the resemblance of the Countess Helen to her elder sister, brought yourself and the young countess into a position iwhich must have been highly embarrassing, and which, should it become known, would certainly be highly compromising to the young lady. Let me hasten to add, "however, that; we are aware your own conduct in this matter has been, on the whole, highly honourable; and this, too, while we" are considering your case, will be a point in your favour.”

There was a further brief pause, anti again I bowed since the words seemed to call for no verbal reply from me. But the next sentence uttered by the passionless voice made me tense with eagerness to grasp the full meaning of what it was about tt say. “Now to enter further upon your case as it may affect the Countess Helen Fredro. Should we decide that yonr life and liberty may be spared, and should you by any means make public the story of your captivity, it must be obvious that yon could only do so at the expense of her good name.” “If you take the sensible course of immediately setting us at liberty, I should, for the reason you have mentioned, refrain from making any entioin of the matter, and I am sure the countess would do the same,” I replied, feeling a great thrill of relief. But the next words of the cold, incisive voice cut short my exultation. _ _ “We are not making terms with you, Mr Travis. Even should you, with a story which must sound incredible, succeed in gaining the ears or your police, your press; your public, you would do no more than, destroy the young lady's reputation and cause us some trifling inconvenience. If we decide that you are likely to ohange even the slightest purpose of ours, the penalty of your trespasa upon our secrets will be death.” , . /•' Tlie utterance of these words Was so impressive, that I seemed to feel a cold shock pass through me, although. I still tried to keep a hold front. “But what of the Countess Helen? 1 demanded. “We mentioned her to show you that, in the event of our releasing you, honour must hind von to sflenoe whatever passion might advise. But we are now trying your case, we are not considering that of. the countess.” My heart' sank as I thought of Helen’s forebodings, and how wellfounded they were provirigto be. “What do you mean? What offence has she committed against your' Government, your ‘cause,’ or whatever you call it? Do you think of holding her, who is guilty of no fault, prisoner, or of ” ' , . , I was going to add —“murdering her as well as me”; hut, knowing I should do no good by losing my timper, I checked myself in time. ’‘‘The countess will be under tho charge of those who will have the best right to look after her. That must re sufficient for you.” “But it is -not sufficient, I exclaimed, my temper again almost getting the better of me. “By what right do vou-require to know more? We have learnt something about yonr position, Mr Travis, anti, you must be aware that it places a gulf between yourself snd the Ccuntess Helen Fredro, As a man of honour you cannot wish to follow up the advantage which her enforced seclusion with you may have given you.’’ This touched me on a tendo." spot, and I winced. “I have one right which she herself has allowed me—that if a friend—her only friend in the midst qf enemies.” “To a wilful find romiuoio gill all who would guide and eStr-un her are enemies. But it is profitless to pursue this subject. You need only, be told that the Countess Helen will now take her place in a circle of society into which you will not he able to follow her. And. further, that you are now required to promise upon oath, upon your word of honour, that should we judge fit to restore you to liberty y.u will not injure her by’attempting to make public the story of yonr captivity.”

CHAPTER XIV.—AN ASTONISHING AWAKENING.

I find it difficult now, in writing my account of these proceedings, to convey or even to revive, any real impreesiqn of the deadly earnestness which was ,underlying them; yet though I strove to bear, myself with apparent unconcern, I was fully convinced that, though it might be a travesty of justied, there was no mockery, no pretence about the trial. , ■ .

But for all that I would not give the promise they demanded from me without deliberating it. '1 knew in giving it I should be depriving myself of the most powerful aid in seeking Helen, as I had told her I would do. On the other hand, "if I refused I had little doubt my captors would put it out of my power for ever to do her any service at all.

So-, after a pause, during which there had been dead silence, I gave my answer —“I promise.” i “As a matter of form, we would caution you that any breach of your word, should’we decide to set yoo at liberty, will he followed by sure punishment.” “I bave given my promise; so your warning iWunnecessary,” I replied. Again a pause; but the silence broken, this time, by a faint sound of whispered consultation. “There is one more thing required of you,” came the voice. “A further promise that, if released, you will go your own way, forgetting, as far as possible, tho episode of your acquaintance with the Countess Helen Fredro, and will make no attempt of any kind to seek her, or to renew the acquaintance.”

But this was too much. In making an impossible condition like this, they could be only plpying with me; only seeking an excuse for passing some mockery of a judgment upon me and for putting me out of the wav. If this were not so, why this preposterous demand, covering, as it did, the promise they had just extracted from me ? » With anger'rising hotly, I made no

deliberation over my reply this time, but after no more than a moment or so to grasp the demand, answered with a loud andi emphatic: “No!” Instantly' the grasp of my guards tightened upon ine, apd again,l felt the-cold muzzle of the f revolver against my ear. , “Reflect, Mr Travis,” came the cold, deliberate voice. “Remember that onr decision means life or death to you.” I was not tired of life; indeed life, had it held a prospect of straggle against these people for the freedom of the girl I loved, would never have been sweeter than at that moment. .'But life on the terms they offered ! Of course, the temptation came to me —“Give them the promise and save yourself; none could ever blame you for breaking a promise extorted by such means? ’ But I would not give this thought an instant’s breathingtime. If these people sought my death they would compass it on one pretext or another; I would not palter with niv word.

So, too, I put aside a desire to pour out my anger in a stream of words, for I knew they could cut these short long before I could utter a tithe of what I would like to say. Thus, after only a brief pause, I expressed my defiance and contempt in' a repetition of that monosyllable uttered more deliberately and emphatically than before: “No!” ? >, Then I waited for the click of tho revolver. I wondered whether I should hear thi? at all—whether the shattering bullet would so instantly do its work that I should distinguish no sound: or whether death would come with the roar of the -report in my ear. Would there he a thrill of agony followed by the blankness of sleep; or should I immediately awake to the consciousness of some other existence?

So came a space of suspense to he measured, I believe, only by seconds, though it might have been minutes-for all I could tell. Then, instead of any such sound as I expected, I heard only the voice again uttering a. few words in Russian. I fancied, also, I heard beside it another voice iff- a short, quiet laugh; hut of this I could not be certain. TVhat I knew was that the revolver was taken from my ear and that I was being led away. I tried to call'out some questioning words, but my lips and mouth were dry and my tongue refused its office for the. moment. I realised that I had just experienced something very like the bitterness of death.

I did not repeat my- effort to speak, for the effort I had made must have been visible, _ and there came .'from close to me Michael’s . voice, uttering words which _ sounded more like a friendly warninz than a cojpmand—“Silence monsieur.”

In silence, therefore, I passed through rooms and passages, until w« came to a standstill, when after a brief wait, I experienced a motion which I knew to be that of a lift, .though whether going up or down / could not determine at the time.

From the lift we stepped out, and when we had gone a short distance through another passage or so, I again heard Michael’s friendly voice. “You did well, monsieur, to refuse that last demand. You are what I judged you to he—a brave .man.” (To be continued.)