LINKED BY PERIL

New Zealand Times, Volume LII, Issue 12250, 23 September 1925, Page 12

LINKED BY PERIL

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT, oooooooooooooooooooooouo OOOOOOOOOOOOfI POWERFUL STORY OF LOVE AND MYSTERY,

BY

BEN BOLT,

Author of "The Lady of the Miniature,” “The Lifting of the Shadow,’* “Love Find* the Clue," dec., &c-

[COPYRIGHT.]

CHAPTER XXIV

She sat so for quite a long time, then presently, as she caught tne sound of steps on the road, she looked up. Wandesiorde was returning, and, as she noticed, his face was grim. His manner also had a new gravity. “We can’t get through,’’ he said simply, “and it will be necessary to go round by the Long Down road.’’ “But what has happened?’’ asked Sylva “Thare has been an accident,’’ he explained, as he climbed 1 into the car and bent over the wheel. “A car racin'* down the hill skidded just aa it reached the place where yours was standing. They collided, and the descending car overturned, whilst yours was pretty badly smashed. Sylva looked at him again just as the car was beginning to move. His face was a little pale and troubled, and she knew intuitively that he had not told her all “Is that all you have to tell me?” she asked. i He still bent over the wheel, as if he did not wish to look at her, and ns he did not immediately reply, she spoke again. “I saw (something after you left me,” she said quietly. “The crowd parted just as you reached it, and 1 caught a glimpse of a green motorbody.” She stopped, hesitated, and then added deliberately: “Mr Smendon’s ear was green!” “Yes," he answered, "it was, and the car you saw was his.” She waited a moment thinking he would continue, hut apparently he was absorbed in driving. Then.she asked: “Was Mr Smendon hurt?” He looked at her and nodded. “Miss Gauntlett, I think it is well to tell you the truth without circumlocution. Lorrv was killed.” “Killed!” cried the girl, a shocked expression on her face. “Yes. His car turned turtle, and he was pinned underneath it. They had fust got him out as I Teached the place. From the look on his face I should say that he died instantaneously, and to be quite frank, X think it is just as well that he did.” ' It was a moment before Sylva could reply. Though she had been so near marrying him, she had cared, little for him. but she was greatly shocked by the news of his death and the manner of it. and when at length she spoke it was in a shaking voice. “Why—why do you say that. Mr Wandesforde ?” “Tt saved him from a worse fate, I think,” answered .her companion, grimly. “What do you mean?” “Those two gipsies were these. They saw him dragged out from under the car. and though he was dead, they cursed him in their own tongue. Ido not understand a word of Bomany, but I am sure that is what they were doing. One could see it from their faces, their gestures. When I got a chance t spoke to them, and got them to walk a little way down the road with me, then I induced them to tell me what they had against Lorry.” ‘‘All I” interjected Sylva, divining what was coming. “Yea,” replied the young man, as if answering a question; “your suspi--cions were only too well founded. One of those fellows was the murdered gipsy girl’s brother, and the other was a man who had hoped to marry her. They were in England looking for the dead girl’s husband, and by. chance the girl’s brother recognised Lorry as he drove by their encampment about an hour and a half ago. He was not quite sure at first, but he and the other fellow started to trace the car, and found it at Winstow Church, less than half a mile from their encampment. “There they hid themselves among tlio trees in order to make sure that there was no mistake, and they had just decided that I-orry was their man, when we drove on. As I told you. they attacked him whilst I was talking with him, but he outwitted them, and ran away. In view of what they say . that funning away becomes very sljjnificant.” “Yes!’’ said Sylva quietly. “They are convinced that not only was Lorry the man who married the deid girl, but that he was the man who murdered her.” As he spoke something leaned up in the girl’s face, a look ns if she had suddenly comprehended something, and as he saw it the young man asked quickly, “What is it, Miss Gauntlet? Something has occurred to you. I am sure.” "Yes.” answered Sylva, “I have just remembered something, something that until now had slipped my mind. The night that Zillah Petengo was murderpd Mr Smendon met me in the park. He was on the point of asking me to marry him, when the sound of the girl’s violin reached us. He stopped suddenly as if taken ill. and. indeed, he excused hbnself on the plea of illl ness, which did not seem to me to he particularly strange at the time. But now ” “Yes. now?’’ said Wandesforde enrmiraginglv. .“Xow, T think he recognised the "id’s playing, that the knowledge of her presence in the neighbourhood came to him as a shock, and that he was suddenly afraid.” “Yes.” was the reply, “that seems very likely.”

“But bow did be come to meet and to marry Zillah Petengo? He was not with you and Cyril when you were in Uoumelia, was he?” “No, but he was at the British Legation at. Sofia.” “At Sofia 1” cried Sylva. “ I had never heard ” “No, and you would not hear from him or from Aunt Penelope. Sofia was a name not to be mentioned if it could be helped. You must know that Lorry was entered for the diplomatic service and was attached to the English Minister in Bulgaria, but there was trouble of some sort. I have never known definitely what it was, but it was clearly of a dishonourable nature, for Lorry’s conection with the diplomatic service ended with quite startling abruptness. The thing was hushed up—but, well you can see how he might be brought into touch wilh this dead girl, and the rest, well! the rest follows like clockwork, for Lorry was not the man to let a scruple stand in the way of his selfish pleasures.” “It is all very dreadful.” said Sylva. “Yes, but some men are like that. ‘Lorry was a fellow with a strain of crookedness in his nature that cropped out at critical times, and, as I said a little while back, it is just as well that he died how and when he did. Those fellows would have got him, or failing that they would have gone to the police and then— —” He broke off and shrugged his shoulders expressively. Sylva did not reply, and for a few minutes the car ran forward without either of them speaking. At the end of that time Jack Wandesforde glanced down at his companion and surprised a very thoughtful look upon her face. “A penny for thoughts, JMi&s Gauntlett.” “I was thinking how all that has happened to-day may alter the future " ' .' . 4f For the better!” replied the young man earnestly. p *You may be quite sure of that, Miss Gauntlett. My cousin wasn’t the ■nan for any decent girl to be happy with. He was not the man for you.” ti “I never believed he was. But—■ — Her sentence was never finished. A car driven at top-speed came tearing in the opposite direction. It was level jvitlr them in a moment, then there came a quick grinding of brakes and a shout. “Jack! Jack!” As he slowed down Jack "Wandesforde flung his head round, then he glanoed down at his companion, and was astonished at the startling pallor ol her fac«. “Who is it?” he asked. “It is Cyril, your brother!” Sylva looked round hurriedly and saw that Cyril Wandesforde had left his car and was hurrying towards them. “Oh, do go and meet him, Mr Wandesforde. Do not let him come here, and do not tell him that I—that I—was to be married to your cousin!” Jack Wandesforde dropped out of the car. There was a puzzled look on his face. Here wjis something that he did not understand, but without asking questions he answered cheerfully: “Right, Miss Gauntlett! But Cyril’s an inquisitive beggar, you know.” White-faced, Sylva eat there, looking straight before her. She heard the two brother*? meet, caught the joyous greeting of each for the other, followed by a rapid fire of explanation which took' some time. Then quite distinctly she caught the question: “Who is the lady. Jack? I was so surprised at seeing you, I didn’t get a glimpse of her face.” The answer aid not reach her, hut Sylva sat there almost in agony. Would Jack Wandesforde tell? Almost she prayed that he would, then she was in an agony lest he should. The two voices behind her had dropped to a lower key. The murmur of them reached her without any of the words being clear. For what seemed an interminable time she sat there, and then she caught the sounds of steps hurrying down the road. She did not dare to glance round to learn which of the brothers it was. Her heart was, beating so rapidly that she could scarcely breathe. She sat there between apprehension and anticipation, then behind her sounded a voice joyously eager: “Sylva! My dear Sylva!” She turned slowly. /Cyril was standing by the car, regarding her with solicitous eyes, her gaze met hi 6, her heart leaped and the colour came flooding in her face. “Jack told me who you were,” he explained holding out his arms towards her. “He has told me how he met you and—and what happened afterwards. It seems too good to be true that you are still—still Sylva Gauntlett. I had heard that you were already married to my cousin Lorry.” “But who told you that?” cried Sylva in astonishment. “Lady Traynor—an hour ago. She assured me you and Lorry were already married at Winstow and I was on my way there to learn if it were so.” “But how did she know?” asked Sylva “I cannot tell you. But she did. And——” He broke off and glanced round as a horn sounded up the road. Then he swung back to the girl. “Here comes Aunt Penelope herself!” he exclaimed. “You will be able to ask her, direct.” (To he continued.)