THE ACCESSORY.

Otago Witness, Issue 3332, 23 January 1918, Page 66

THE ACCESSORY.

[ All Eights Eeserved.'j

By Hottgh Wood. "It's no good, I'm afraid," said Smet'huxst, peering from under the hood of the car into the darkness and the driving snow. " It doesn't look like getting any further. This Is another drift we're stuck in, and it's worse than the others." " Well," said a merry voice from the depths of a comfortable rug. " It's all your fault, you know, fi.ther. You would come out, and I told you these hill roads would be impassable. What are you going to do now?" ."I'll have another try. Hold tight." He reversed as he spoke. The wheels spun round, bit spasmodically, and the car backed a, little. Smethurst put It at full speed at the pile of snow. There was a shock, a bump, and the sound of something snapping. He leaped out with the inspection lamp and waded knee-deep to the rear: "That settles it," he called presently. "The back axle has gone now. It's a hopeless case. There's no getting back tonight," He came round to the girl again.

I " Better get out. We must find shelter somewhere. I thought* I saw a light some distance down the road. Let me take*, your arm." • The girl stepped out with a gay laugh. , " Quarters for Christmas. I pray you of 'your charity take us in." She dropped a mock curtsey. " It's quite an adventure." Smethurst smiled to himself under cover ' of the darkness. " All right," he said, j affecting to growl, " blame your old dad : and enjoy the whole business in a breath. I know you, Miss Romance. Now, take j my arm. The drifts are deep, but luckily we have not far to go." Together they struggled towards the light that gleamed fitfully through the thickly-falling flakes. Presently they found' themselves by a gate that gave access to a path leading up to a low, rambling house. I " Seems an old-fashioned sort of a place," said Smethurst as they paused to take breath. "Wonder -whose it is. Anyhow, they cannot refuse to take us in for" a while on a night like this. Now, Nancy, only a few yards more." 1 The door was opened before Nancy, breathless with her exertion and halfj blinded by the driving snow, knew that it had been answered. She was aware that a man's voice was speaking, and silhouetted against the bright light within she made out a- tall figure. The tones were refined and courteous. She began to feel at home with the stranger at once. " We're stranded," explained Smethurst in his brief, almost curt fashion. " Car smashed up in a drift, back axle gone. If we cquid shelter until we can get assistance " " By all means." The hall door closed upon the night and left them standing in a circle of warmth and light. "Lucky we were so near. It's a nasty night to : be out motoring, and—Mr Smethurst, you!" There was genuine amazement in the younger man's tones as he turned and recognised the other. "I should have thought you were twenty miles away, safely housed over a warm fire." "Nicholson!" returned the other man, taking the outstretched hand ; " this is unexpected. What are you doing put in this part of the country?" The younger man laughed. " This is my mother's place, and I am here keeping Christmas with her. The old-fashioned family gathering, though small in numbers. There are but the two of us, but we shall be glad of "your company." He j looked inquiringly at the girl. ! " My daughter Nancy," said Smethurst. " My dear, this is Mr Nicholson, an—er of mine." Even as she held out her hand Nancy was aware of the subtle suggestion of a challenge in her father's words, of a enrij ous expression that passed over the young man's features, and was gone before it ! could take definite form. Instinctively she | divined that there was some antagonism i between the two. It interested her. She ' knew that her, father, with his shortj cropped bullet head, pugnacious sweep I of his lower jaw, and short, thick neck, I was every bit the fighter his appearance betokened. Quickly she weighed up the other. She had seen at the door that he 1 was tall and of athletic build. Now she , found him a man alert of expression, j with a quiet but confident air, and a touch j of masterfulness about him that attracted i hery She decided that 'they were well 1 matched. Something in the meeting of the two, in the situation, the details of •which were unknown to her, interested her ' deeply. Her thoughts were broken in upon by Nicholson. " We have only an old servant in the house," he explained, "but we will try to make yon comfortable. Meanwhile, let me welcome you as Christmas guests." " But wq can't think of staying, Mr Nicholson," protested the girl. "We ought to be back for Christmas Day, arid, ' in any case, we must not think of foisting ourselves upon you." "The other alternative," he replied with an air of quiet decision that held her, although she tried to feel piqued, " is to camp out in- your car, and I cannot ailow you to do that. The roads down the hillside are blocked with drifts for quite three miles. I tried them this mornj ing. You cannot possibly get through , to-night, nor to-morrow. Please make i yourselves at home. Mother will be deI lighted to have company. Let me take I your things. Now, come this way, and I will fetch mother." He led them into a warm and cosily-furnished room. "Who is this Mr Nicholson, father?" asked Nancy the moment they were alone. " He's manager of the Beckfoot Mills. Has run them for Mrs Tomllnson ever since she was left a widow. Smart man,' too. He"—grimly—" is my keenest competitor, and one of the brainiest men I have met on 'Change." "Oh," thoughtfully. " Did you know he lived here?" " My dear girl"—her father spun round. ■ laughing as he answered—" Nicholson, I have always understood, lives in town. As to his relatives, I have never inquired who or what they were, nor where they lived.' Their conversation was interrupted by the entrance of a frail-looking, whitehaired, elderly lady. " Edward, my son, has told me of your misfortune," she said as she greeted ; her guests. "I do hope you will not j let it trouble you. Do, please, underj stand that you are welcome, and must J s'tay as long as you are able. Edward , has telephoned to your people that you j are staying here, and he has now gone to j see the farmer, our nearest neighbour, i about getting your car towed under ' coyer." j Nancy turned with a bright smile. ; " Mr Nicholson does not forget much that ; makes for the comfort of his guests." "He is a good boy," was the quiet response, but the simple dignity and the i motherliness of it brought a lump into the ' girl's throat. 1 They all agreed—this was three days I afterwards, when it had become possible for a big car to run up the '

melting snow for the Smethursts —that it had been a very pleasant Christmas. Of the four points of view contained in this unanimous verdict, those of Nancy and Edward were the nearest to coinciding. Mrs Nicholson had enjoyed the company of the eleventh-hour guests, although because of her frailness she was much con-, fined to her room. Smethurst had been made free of Edward's den, a compact little smoking room and library, the contents of which soon caused him to be glad that he was left a good deal alone. He took many pains, too, to contrive that he should have plenty of warning when anyone was approaching along the corridor towards the door. As for the young people, when Nancy found 'that about the house clung the atmosphere of ancient days, she was entranced. She demanded the history, and to be introduced to the house. The place stood, as Edward explained to her, on one of the hill-top routes taken by the Scots in the days when they were reiving and raiding the North of England, and the occupiers in those days had to take precaution not only against surprise, but also for the safety of their own skins when the bands came riding down. He showed her the 'scape-hole, or what w r as left of the little chamber in the wall that was approached by displacing some stones beside the huge kitchen fireplace, and told her that a tunnel once led from this hiding-place to an outlet higher up the hillside. She was charmed, and would fain have made the passage of the fireplace, but that, under the circumstances of their visit, her wardrobe did not allow of a change. Then there was a tiny winding stair built into the very heart of the inner Avails at a point where four of them met, with what were once peepholes cut in all round. There was also the tiniest of chambers, actually with a fireplace, in another of the thick walls. " We discovered this only two years ago," said Edward, " and then quite by accident. Curious hiding-place, is it not?" " It is a dear little place. I wonder who has used it. Couldn't you romance about it ever so little, Mr Nicholson?" Edward laughed at her enthusiasm. " I'm afraid my training has been too matter-of-fact and business-like. But I can go go far as to say that it is an interesting old house." " Oh," she protested, " that's far too mild a term. Why, it's a gem. To think I never knew' what stirring, stories were associated with these old hillside places, and what quaint houses they were. I don't wonder that your mother loves to live here; it's far more interesting than being in a town. I should just love to live here myself." " Would you?" said Edward quickly. At his words they both turned, and their eyes met. At what she saw in his the girl dropped her gaze quickly; a warm flush suffused her cheeks and mounted to the tips of her ears. " Is there anything else to see?" she asked hurriedly in some confusion. "Oh, lots," promptly. "We haven't been outside yet. There's some curious carving over the door, and we must visit the outhouses. There's art interesting frieze that must be hundreds of years old." But assiduous as he was, there were some things he did not show her. For instance, when they were Reaving the tiny chamber in the wall he had stepped back for a moment into the darkness and put out his hand. There was a subdued click, and a little narrow slit opened in the wall. He put his eye to it for a second or two, drew back quickly in astonish : ment, then looked again. With another click the opening closed up. For a space, ere he rejoined the girl, there was a grim look on and an ominous tightening of the lips. But Nancy .knew nothing of this, nor was there anything in his manner to lead her to suspect that something untoward had happened. Nevertheless, it was a matter to which Nicholson gave much thought that evening when the rest of the household had retired. At the outset he unlocked the safe and took out some plans and several sheets of calculations. He went over them carefully, submitting the sheets to examination through a strong glass under the direct rays of the light. Next he closely inspected the lock of the safe, also through the glass. Nothing there, he assured himself, had been touched. For some time he was lost in deep thought, then systematically he went over the contents of the wastepaper basket, the blotting-pad, and closely scrutinised the front and the shelves of the bookcase built into the wall. He found a little furrow of recently-disturbed dust, and fingerprints on the back of an old volume. He took up the book, and as the edges came free they opened, and some sheets of paper dropped out. They contained plans and calculations. Rapidly Edward examined them, found what he looked for, the date in one corner, and the initials, then carefully replaced them in the book and put back the volume. There was an amused smile on his features as he dropped into the chair for a final smoke before retiring. Presently he chuckled. " The old man has overeached himself this time," he said, gazing at clouds, of smoke, "and, but for Nancy—by Jove!" he started as he uttered the girl's name. An idea had shot through his mind. He laughed quietly. "I've got him now if he kicks ufi rough," and it was a very selfsatisfied young man who knocked the ashes out of his pipe and shut off the light. The next day went all too rapidly for Edward ; perhaps Nancy might have confessed to the same feeling:; but there w-as no one to whom she could give her confidence. Of Mrs Nicholson they saw little, and Mr Smethurst was too content, he said, to leave the library until the arrival of the car for which he had telephoned, the roads by this time being passable for a powerful' machine. The_ young people were consequently thrown in each other's company, and a friendship sprang up between" them which made excellent

, stride?.. Edward, indeed, thought it might possibly go further, and with the promptness of a man of action took Nancy's views upon the question. "I am sorry you are leaving so soon," lie began. "The time has seemed so short." "Oh." 'lt was very non-committal. "I do hope I may see you again," he hazarded. "I —we —father would be glad for you to call, I am sure," she said demurely. "And what of yourself?" "My father's friends are always welcome." He bowed in mock solemnity at the light laughter in her eyes. But he put aside her fencing and came to the point. "There is an excellent custom in. this country," he said, "one much practised by—well, the operatives at your father's mill and also those under me. It establishes a friendship on a recognised basis without pledging either party. You may have heard of it. It is called courting. If we, you and I, could ascend to that plane—?" He paused inquiringly. The pink flush was on her cheeks again. The brightness of her eyes was veiled. She was softened and tremulous. "We know so little of each other," she whispered. "I ask for opportunities of bettering that," he said gravely. "May I say also that all that a woman may mean to a man already you mean to me." "Nancy." Her father's voice called. "Where are you? The ca.r is coming up the hill. I've seen the headlights. Are you ready?" She turned swiftly to Edward. Her hand was outstretched. She did not sneak, but there was a look in her eyes that could not be mistaken. O, a firm clasp, and then he led her to the hall. '"-■ "By the way, you will need a rug," said Edward, as they were saying goodbye. "Let me fetch the one from your own car." He ran off to the rear of the house. As he disappeared Smethurst withdrew his hand from his inner pocket with an exclamation. "Nancy," he said quickly, "I've left a packet on the library table. Run and) fetch it for me." She returned just before Edward reappeared with the rug. At the sound of his footsteps Smethurst took the packet hastily from the girl and shoved it away in his pocket. Five minutes later good-byes had been said and the car was speeding down the hill. A little more than a week afterwards Nicholson entered the private office where Smethurst was seated at his desk. "Ah, good morning, Nicholson," said the mill-owner. "Not often I see you here. What can, I do for you?" "Can you spare me a few minutes?" The elder mam nodded. ' T have a request —two requests to make. Briefly, they are that you will take me into partnership and that you will consent to my paying addresses to your daughter." Smethurst stared, then he laughed. It was not a pleasant laugh. ".Would you also like half my fortune? It is pretty substantial, I don't mind telling you." "Thanks for the information," said Nicholson coolly, "but I always had' an idea that I would like to make one for myself. But let me say also that I am. here to talk business. Even as a manager my timeThas some value." "Good," snapped the other. "I can be as brief as you. My answer to both propositions is 'No.'" "Then I must ask you to reconsider, and to listen to a few arguments why you should do so. Oh, I will be brief. You have a big concern to manage, and the assistance of a younger man would relieve you of a good deal of the burden. N ow if that young main could bring in as his share of, the assets a new loom, a patented loom"—he leaned over to Smethurst and spoke with deliberation—"a loom that -would reduce cost of output thirty-three per cent." He paused impressively. "And when I speak of a loom, which, by the way, is working at this very day, I do not mean one constructed from plans that have -—-shall we say?—been lying in. an old library for thirty years, having been got out by a man now dead." Smethurst paled under the other's gaze. Then he turned red: He seemed to find the atmosphere warm, for he mopped his brow with his handkerchief. He fidgeted,/ ill at ease, and had to moisten his lips before he could speak. "Well," huskily, "go on." "I suppose that by this time your mechanic has told you that the plans were no good?" added Nicholson, as if casually. "What plans?" Smethurst was recovering himself. He spoke brusquely. "What fairy story are you telling now:" Nicholson laughedi. "No, no, Mr Smethurst, it is too late for that kind of talk. Let us understand each other. You remember your stay at my mother's house. Perhaps you did riot know that the place is very old and more or less honeycombed with secret passages and spyholes. I showed several of these to Nan—-to your daughter. You were too much interested in the library to bother to go round. But I did not show her all. One thing she did not see was a sliding panel opening on to the library. By sheer chance,' quite a second thought, I opened it when we were in the secret chamber, perhaps to see' if it was working. I cannot explain why I tried it. But, anyhow, I had a good view of what was happening in the library. You know the details. I also knew, thanks to the panel, that you had left a certain packet, and also saw who. came to fetch it. Now I ask for a partnership. It is not a threat, nor an attempt at blackmail, for I mean to marry Nancy, with or withotit your consent, and I want my hands clean. You took the wrong plans. I know you discovered them accidentally, but you thought they had been forgotten and that there was something in them. So there was, up to a point, as your mechanic will tell you. My plans are absolutely my own, they are fully patented, and an experimental loom is working. I have given you a hint of what it will do.'' "What does Nancy say?" asked Smet-

hurst, after a short silence. "I Lad big hopes for her." "I trust I shall fulfil them. Nancy leads, me to believe that my—that I am not distasteful to her. I may say that, like someone else, I made, good use of my opportunities at Christinas." "You recognise that she is, in a sense, an accessory to the —er —appropriation, seeing that she was the one actually to take them." "This is unfair, Mr Smethurst," said Nicholson hotly. . "You know that she was innocent in the matter." "That is not answering my question" — grimly. "Then may I say that from her husband Nancy will never learn a single word." Smethurst laughed.. "Good, that was what I wanted to hear. I owe it to you and myself to make the confession—if that is the right word for it—that when I found those plans, quite by accident, I was tempted to copy theni* You have been my keenest rival, and with the chance, as it seemed to me, of getting the better of you, I did. not .give myself to think what I was doing. I sShall be glad to have you in with me. Pull up your chair and Ave will go into details, and also as to the cost of refitting up the mill with your loom." He held out his hand and took Nicholson's in a warm clasp. "About that other matter," he said, and there was a twinkle in his l eye, "I do not feel called upon to interfere. But I will go as far as to telephone Nancy and warn her that you are coming home with me to dinner."