THE SEARCHLIGHT.

Otago Witness, Issue 3085, 30 April 1913, Page 62

THE SEARCHLIGHT.

THE NOVELIST.

[Published be-Special Arrangement.J

By RALPH RODD. Author of “Whispering Tongues,” “Marriage by Capture,” “The Sneak,” “A Step in the Dark,” etc., etc. [Copyright.] CHAPTER XV. ESS O’ SWIFT’S had gone to bed in the same discontented spirit which had been growing on her of late. She would not have been her father’s daughter if she had failed ‘to chafe under a sense of failure. But she was even less able to bear it than he would have been. Old Sam Swift had known what it was to struggle with indomitable persistency in order to achieve his ends; his daughter up to now had only known success. She had seen “Swift’s” in the making; she had come to it when it was an accomplished fact. It was not surprising that Bess o’ Swift’s believed in her luck. All her life she had been accustomed to have her wishes obeyed. Like the centurion of old, she said to this man “Go,” and he went; to that man “Do this thing,” and he did it. Again and again the girl told herself that she could not fail. Sooner or later she would find out the mysterious link which connected Colin's enemy, Norris Ledbury, with Dycedale Manor. Mr Kendal, by tone and manner more than words, had doubtedj her ability to carry out the self-imposed task she had taken up so impetuously. If anything could have made her keener upon achieving success, it was the barrister’s partially concealed scepticism. But nothing had been needed; her desire was wholly unselfish. It was for Colin’s sake she was there, for the sake of the man whom all the world misjudged. The girl’s generous nature yearned to vindicate the one in whom she had implicit faith. And now she was finding out that it was one thing to go on i-epeating that she would succeed, another to command success. Common sense told her that she was wasting time, that would be far better for her to,go back to her own busy kingdom and leave others to try to solve the mystery of Dycedale Manor, if mystery there was. Vet for once every fibre of her being rebelled against the dictates of wisdom —she never guessed why! The girl firmly believed that her motives in acting as she was doing were entirely disinterested ; she actually thought that Iless o’ Swift’s was too busy t'o listen to the gentle voie of Love. She was going to reinstate a wronged man, and then—and then—why, then, ot course, she would go back to Blackfield ; go back and take up life where she had left it off before she had seen Colin Ardyce standing at bav, with all those cruel, unfriendly eyes watching, while a paid assassin—that was how Bess tlionght of Jarmaine, K.C. —tore from him, scrap by scrap, each vestige of his honour. So Bess had fallen asleep in an unenviable mood, and when she awoke with a. start it was not surprising that she should be alert and suspicious. She had manufactured an atmosphere of mystery; to her the dignified old Manour-house held a dark secret, although she hod never discovered so much as a sign of it. That was the reason why Bess acted as she did. ,As a visitor in any other house, she would not have sprung up, eager and wakeful, because a door had opened somewhere near at hand. Now she never paused an instant. She just slipped out of bed, caught up her dressing-gown, and, barefooted as she was, stole across to her door and opened it. And as he did so she experienced a thrill of excitement. Her had not played her false. At the other side of the big upper hall she caught sight of a tall figure in the moonlight. It was moving stealthily towards the head of the stairs. Bess had no idea as to the hour. It was enough that the moon was shining brightly, throwing patches of nalc, cold light , across the wide-carpeted expanse which lay between her and the figure upon which her gaze was riveted. A ghostly figure all in white! Bess was much too practical to waste a thought on midnight visitants from the spirit world. Her one desire was to find out who it was who crept about the house like that at such an hour. Without pausing to consider the wisdom of such a step, Bess, the impetuous, drew the door to behind her, and started in

pursuit. At least, she was too cautious to step into the patches of moonlight, and she kept close to the wall joving swiftly in the shadow until she readied the balustrading, over which one could look down into the beautiful old hall beneath.

Bess peered over. The stairs were at the other side; from where she stood she could distinctly see the figure she was pursuing making its way down the wide shallow steps. s It was moving very slowly, very noiselessly. The fact suggested to the watcher infinite caution, and it added fuel to her suspicions. It struck the girl in an instant that the moment she had longed for so intensely had arrived. She was on the point of identifying the one who was at the bottom of all Colin Ardyce’s troubles. This was the woman who was in communication with Norris Ledbury. It was the purest surmise. There was not a scrap of evidence to justify the conclusion to which Bess had come, but that fact made no difference. She had come there, obsessed with the idea that there was someone in the house in Dr Ledbury's pay. Mr Kendal might point out that it was just as likely that the one whose telephone message she had intercepted lived in the neighbourhood, and not at the Manor; but Bess chose to reject the idea, and never with greater conviction than at that moment. The woman in front of her was stealing down to the little writing-room in which the telephone stood—she was going to send a message to her ally in London. Of course, the hour was unusual, hut that only proved how determined Colin Ardyce’s enemy was that no one should guess the despicable part she was playing. It was possible that she even suspected the true motives of the new inmate of the Manor, and feared to send her message until she —Bess—was safely out of the way in bed. Thev kept early hours at the Manor —it might not really he very late ; while, in any case, a doctor’s call may come at any hour. The figure had reached the bottom ofthe stairs. Bess caught up her dressinggown, and she ran, light as a child, across the patch of moonlight to the head of the stairs. Her bare feet 1 on the thick carpet gave back iro sound, and if her heart heat faster than usual it was with exultation. The girl’s love of adventure, her passionate desire for success, were driving her. If Colin Ardyce could have seen her then, slim and upright as a boy, her cheeks flushed with excitement, her eyes sparkling, her lips a little parted, he would scarcely have recognised the very practical, if wa-rm-hc-arted, Bess o’Swift’s. This was a Bens nobody had ever seen, nobody had ever dreamed of.

Still holding her dressing-grown cautiously above her ankles lest the swish of it should cause a sound,- Be.ii stole downstairs. Before she reached the last step she heard a door at the other side of the hall being opened, and she nodded quickly. Everything was going Just as she had suspected. It was the dcor of the little writing-room. The girl moved more boldly now, and all the time she was listening for the voice at the telephone. She was not ashamed of playing the eavesdropper in the least. Colin .Ardyce’s traducers deserved no fair treatment; besides, she only wanted to hear enough to be certain that the message was to Dr Ledbury. When she knew that she would go straight' to Miss Ardyce, and risk her anger by arousing her in the middle of the night, so that Norris Ledbury’s spy might be caught in the act of communicating with her principal. That would be better than merely reporting what had occurred to Sir Mciwn. because in such a case the evildoer might make excuses, or even deny her complicity. Bess had reached the room door, and was standing close against it. She saw that it had not been quite closed, yet she listened in vain for a word. All was absolutely quiet for a moment or two, and then she'heard a key turned in a lock. For the first time it began to dawn upon Bess that perhaps she had jumped at conclusions too soon. The telephone was not being used ; .something else was happening in the room —what ! If only she dare go in! For once, Hess, the impetuous, hesitated. For once, Bess, the fearless, started back in confusion, for the door was open now, and there, on the threshold. straight in front of her, stood Mies Eleanor Ardyce—Miss Eleanor Ardyce, of all people in the world! For just an instant a wild idea, so startling as to take her very breath away, came to appal Colin’s champion: was it Miss Ardyce herself — the woman who had once posed as Colin’s benefactress—who, for some dark motive, was actually employing Norris Ledbury to ruin her nephew? Bess had fallen back instinctively, hut never with the idea of concealment. It was. too late for that.

Miss Ardyce came straight towards her without saying a word. She presented a curious, almost unearthly figure, seen in tint, cold, dim light. At all times gaunt and thin, she had never looked more so. for she wore her bedgown, and had not delayed to throw so much as a shawl round her. Her sparse grey hair was neatly plaited; but what struck Bess the most was that the old lady’s face, usually so strong and purposeful, was absolutely expressionless.

M iss .Ardyce walked deliberately past the girl without taking the slightest notice of her, hut instead of returning to the stairs she began making her way down the corridor which led to the library, in which Bern spent her days. The girl was asking herself what to do. Now that the first shock was over, she realised that Miss Ardvce was merely walking in her sleep. All her great hones died, leaving a crushing sense of disappointment. She Vvas not to learn anything, nothing noteworthy was taking place. She had merely discovered that Miss Ardyce was one of those unfortunate

who act the dreams which disturb their slumbers.

As the old lady passed her, Bess had seen that she carried a long envelope in her hand. It was easy to surmise that it contained something of importance about which she had been worrying. Whatever it was, Bess felt that it had nothing to do with her, and her first inclination was to steal back to her room and try to forget her chagrin in sleep. Bess felt that she merited the scorn of the two men who placed such implicit faith in her— Colin and Sir Mervyn.

The next moment lees selfish instincts prevailed. Miss Ardyce was an old lady, she was thinly clad, and wandering about the house in her sleep. It would "* be wicked to leave her alone. Then there was another thing—what was she going to do with the envelope she carried? It was an imposing-looking one, with a large red seal, and it dawned upon Bess that, in all probability, it contained her will —• that last, cruel, unjust will she had told Sir Mervyn of so exultingly. Wealthy old .women are prone to imagine that all sorts of people are anxious to discover how they propose to dispose of their wealth; this hat'd, unloving, and unloved old woman probably brooded over that hateful will more-, than she need have done. She had made no secret of what it contained, or rather of what it omitted — any provision for her only living relative, the last of the Ardyces. .And so,'" with much brooding, she had got it into her brain that the precious document was not safe. ‘ Perhaps she meant to hide it somewhere, and in the morning would have forgotten where she had put it. Bess o’ Swift’s orderly mind did not like' the idea. She hated the will, and was not fond of Miss Ardyce, but she knew that a paper of importance ought not to be left in the hands of a woman who, for the time being, was not responsible for her actions. Such thoughts flashed through the girl’s brain in an instant, and, with them, the recollection that it was a dangerous thing to awaken any sleep-walker, let alone an old lady who might suffer seriously from the 1 shock. There was nothing for it but to follow Miss Ardyce, note what she did with the envelone, and, if possible, steer her back to bed. So Bess o’ Swift’s wrapped her dress-ing-gown more closely around her, and hurried off down the corridor without easting one glance behind, let alone above. Had she done so. she must have seen that she was not the only spectator of Mi ss Ardyce’s escapade. Two white hands grasped the dark oak balustrading above her head, a white face leaned over, a pair of eager eyes watched all that was going on beneath. CHAPTER XVI. It was rather an eerie business, even for the practical Miss Swift. Sqmehow it had grown more so now that she knew what was the matter with the one she was following. Bess had been ready to leave the shelter of her room when she had believed that she was pursuing someone prompted by an evil purpose; the case Avas different now that she had discovered that Miss Ardyce was not answerable for her actions. . The old lady pursued her way down the corridor, unlocked the library door —the keys of all the downstair rooms were left in the locks —and entered . the library. Bess followed, and she actually found herself glancing round the big room apprehensively. It seemed larger than ever— a place of shadows. The stained glass in the windows cast strange pat-. terns on the parqueterie floor, and the highly-polished wood was very cold to stand on with bare feet. Miss Ardyce crossed the room, and went straight to the shelves opposite her. Bess was close behind her —she had no fear now of being discovered; she only wanted to see exactly what the old lady did, and she noted exactly which shelf it was from which her employer took a volume. Having done so, Miss Ardyco put the hand which grasped the envelope into the aperture between the books, and when she withdrew it her hand was empty. Then she replaced the volume, and Bcrs distinctly heard her heave a sigh of relief. Her work was over, the ta=k which had broken in upon the inertia of sleep was and without one backward glance the old lady left the mom and retraced her steps She passed the writing room, and went straight upstairs and entered her own bedchamber. Bees watched her enter it, then, instead of slipping back to bed, she paused outside the doer. An unsatisfactory episode was over, yet she wn.s not unite sure what she ought to do. Could she trust the old lady to remain in her room, or should she cro and tell someone what had happened ? After weighing the mattter a moment, the girl decided on the second course. She had no very clear idea of what one was supposed to do under nnch oirciimstaneoa, but common seme told her that a woman of Miss Ardyce’s age might very well have caught a cold. Perhaps she ought to he aroused and made to take some nourishment; possible she might, start off on a second expedition if no one was there to stop her. Accordingly Bess wont and fetched a candle, lighted it. and tapped at Miss Mellor’s door. Then, getting no answer, she opened it and peeped in. The bed was unoccupied ! Bees nibbed her evre. There was no doubt, about it, tbe bed was empty, and that though the clock on the mantelshelf pointed to 3. “ Thcv can’t all be sleep-walkers,” mused Bess o’ Swift’s with a sense of irritation. Then, with a shrug of impatience, she mad" her wav to the servants’ quarters and aroused Mies Ardvce’s maid. The woman was all attention at once: she was an old servant and very capable. As she got into her dress she explained that her mistress had on several

occasions walked in. her sleep, but not recently. . She was very grateful to Miss Swift for fetching her; for alttiough Miss Ardyce took so tittle care of herself, she was very susceptible to cold. ‘‘l’ll get a warming bottle,” she was saying in an undertone as the two made their way down the long passage, “and I daresay if I warm a little Oeef tea 1 might be able to get the mistress to take it.” “Then you think you ought to wake her ?” Trainer stood still. “Why, yes, miss. If you saw her wandering about in that state downstairs she may have got her death of cold. Once, miss, when she was very much upset about something, she went out into the park. There’s no knowing where she has been to-night.” It was surely some instinct which made Bess refrain from telling how closely she had followed Mies Ardyce ever since she had left her room. It was not that she distrusted Trainer; it was more old Sam Swift’s oft repeated adage, “Hear all, see all, say naught.” They had reached Miss Me’lor’s door; Bess passed it, expecting the maid to go straight to her mistress’s room, but Trainer apparently was still doubtful as to the wisest course to pursue. “I’ll just ask Miss Mellor,” Bess heard her say, and before the girl could stop her the woman had opened the companion’s door and had entered the room. With a sigh of impatience Bess turned back, meaning to tell Trainer that the room was empty. But as she reached the door she stopped in sheer amazement-. The servant was holding the candle over the bed on which Jane Mellor lay, to all appearances asleep. Bess started at the sleeper in bewilderment. It was scarcely five minutes since she had peeped into the roc-m and believed it to be empty, yet here was Miss Ardyce’s companion wrapped in the profoundest slumber. The girl told herself that she must have made a mistake. The bed was a big, old-fSshioned four-poster with heavy curtains, and its frail little occupant lay at the side farthest from the door. “ Yes, yes!” Miss Mellor exclaimed in the agitated tone common to the suddenly awakened. The servant to’.d what she had come for. Jane Mellor rubbed her eyes. “Miss Ardyce walking in her sleep.” she repeated stupidly. “Who says she is walking in her sleep? Trainer, what time is it?” “It’s 3 o’clock, miss. It was Miss Swxft who came and told me. Miss Swift saw the mistress.” “Dear, dear,” wailed the companion, “to think of Miss Swift hearing, and me sleeping through it all. How could I sleep with dear Miss Ardyce wandering about catching cold!” Jane Mellor spoke as though the very possibility of her employer catching cold ought to have driven sleep from her pillow. “Light the candles. Trainer, and go to Miss Ardyce at once. I’ll come in a moment. Hot water bottle certainly. Xo, not beef tea; milk. Has Miss Swift gone back to bed ?” Trainer was lighting the candles. There was already sufficient light to reveal the fact that Bess stood in the doorway, but presumably Mi so Mellor’s eyes were still too heavy with sleep to see clearly, though her voice was so full of energy. “No, I’m hero, Miss Mellor. But I’m going unless there is anything I can do.” Miss Mellor rubbed her eves again. “Why, so you are! How stupid of me! You poor, poor child. Such a shock as it must have been! Why didn’t you come and call me at once? You should have done, for I’m afraid I never wake of myself. I was so tired when 1 went to bed, if Trainer hadn’t shaken me I should have slept till 8 o’clock.” And again something made Bros o’ Swift’s hold her tongue. Jane Mellor for once was over acting. Instead of waiting to find out whether her absence had been noticed or not, she had chosen boldly to declare that she had slept soundlv since retiring. Bess o’ Swift’s suspicious were aroused. They were entirely vague; she was not prepared to admit even to herself that she distrusted this gentle, lachrymose lady who had been so much kinder to her since she had come to Dycedale than ever Miss Ardyce had be'en. And yet, in spite of that, there war, the feeling that Miss Jane Mellor was not running straight. “Oh, I thought Trainer would do all that was required,” said Bess, meeting guile with guile. “ It was very sweet of you not to wish to disturb me,” said Miss Mellor gratefully, “but, of course, a dependent in imposition lias no right to such kindly consideration. I always put my duty to dear Mbs Ardyce before everything. I know she speaks harshly sometimes, but she has been very, very kind to me.” And the voice of the faithful companion trembled a. little as though the priceless blessing of Miss Ardyce’s favour was moving overwhelming. “ Well, anyway, you’re going to her now,” returned the practical Bess, “ and I might as well go back to bed. She’s not mv benefactress.” Jane Mellor’s raptures bored her. “Oh, you naughty little girl, you’re onlv saving that to tease me.” “ I’m” not. 1 think Miss Ardyce is a very hard old woman.” Jane Mellor was buttoning up a handsome dressing-gown, but she paused to shake her finger at Miss Ardyce’s rebellious dependent. “ I know what you mean,” she said, meaningly. “ I know why you’re so bitter.” “I’m not bitter. Well, if I am,” Bess was finding it difficult to be truthful. “ If you are, it is on account of your loyalty to—to your friend. Miss Swift, you mustn’t mind me saving it,” the speaker went on with a little gush, “ it has been in my mind so often of late.

I want you to know that I do sympathise with you, I want you to feel that I’m a sister woman who can understand.” Bcse froze. “It is very kind of you, but I don’t really know,” she was beginning swiftly, when Jane Mellor interposed. “ There’s nothing kind about it—l can’t help myself. But you are so young and pretty you can’t be jealous of an old woman like me, even if I do v say from the bottom of my heart that I believe, like you, in dear Mr Colin, that I—him, in spiteef all they ray against him. ‘‘You mean Miss Ardyce’s nephew?” Bess asked, with one last attempt at keeping up her semblance of indifference. Jane Mellor gave a little gesture of almost piteous protest. Then ehe smiled. “ Little girl, do you think I am as blind as Miss Ardyce? Oh, you have played your part very cleverly, but that day in the library when our employer spoke so cruelly of poor Mr Colin, I began to guess, and then, when a little bird whispered that a certain little girl s walks generally ended at The Towers, where that noble, generous Sir Mervyii is entertaining the poor outcast, it wasn’t very difficult to put two and two together.” “ Sir Mervyn is an old friend of mine,” Bess returned guardedly. If this had .happened yesterday she would in all probability have met this woman frankly. She had been so prejudiced in her favour; in spite of all she had t’o lose, Jane Mellor had risked her employer’s anger byspeaking up boldly for the absent. Tonight old Sam Swift’s daughter was in a watchful mood. She was going to believe her own keen eyes before another woman’s glib tongue. “So you won’t trust me with your little secret? Perhaps you will some day. I must wait.” The speaker’s tone was not angry, only gently-reproachful. “The younger generation is so cautious ; we oldfashioned women are all impulse—well, well!” Mins Mellor had gone over to the glass, and was doing something to her hair. It struck. Bess that her way of “rushing ” to her “dear Miss Ardyce” was a leisurely- one. “ You haven’t told me yet,” the elder woman went on, “what Miss ,Ardyce did downstairs. Were you following her all the time?”' “ X‘o, I waited outside the writingroom door; I didn’t go in. You see I didn’t know who it was. Then Miss Ardyce came out and went-to the library. I saw that she was walking in her sleep, and I stayed to see whether she would return to bad or try’ to leave the house. I was so thankful when she did the former, as then, of Course, there was no need to waken her.” “ But what did she do in the writingroom V' exclaimed Miss Mellor. “ I couldn’t sea. The door was only just ajar.” ■“ Well, in the library, then?” “It is nuch a big room,” Bess returned, and her father’s “say naught” was ringing in her ears. “It was even darker there than in the hall.” “ The writing-room,” Jane Mellor whispered. “ The room with the safe in which she keeps that dreadful will! Then the library with the German stove always burning to keep the precious books in good preservation!” The speaker turned suddenly from the glass, and cams over to the girl by the door. “Miss Swift,” she exclaimed ecstatically. “Oh, if only it could be true! Suppose that Miss Ardyce has repented of her injustice! Suppose she has destroyed that iniquitous document!” Bess was staring at the woman who was to benefit so greatly by that same “ iniquitous document.” “ I don’t see what goed that would do to anyone,” she said slowly. “Don’t yon, you dear little innocent!” To Bess’s horror the usually subdued Miss Mellor flung her arms round her and gave her a too warm embrace. “Why, if only that will were destroyed, and Miss Ardyce kept from making another, poor Mr Colin would come into his own as next of kin! Just a bit of paper between him and all that should be his!”

Just a bit of paper! And Bess knew where that paner was. (To be continued.)