THE IVORY GOO.

Otago Witness, Issue 3396, 16 April 1919, Page 54

THE IVORY GOO.

THE NOVELIST.

[Published bx Special Abbancement.]

By ANNIE S. SWAN (Author of "Aldersyde," " Gates of Eden," etc.).

[COPTBIGHT.]

SYNOPSIS OF INSTALMENTS I-VL Geoffrey Faussit, son of a rich colliery proprietor, is often in trouble on acount of his various escapades. At last his father tells him he must leave Branethorpe and earn his own living. Geoffrey had been engaged to Clare Anerley, but the engagement had been suddenly broken off. Brian Faussit, Geoffrey's brother, is in love with Clare. Clare visits Branthorpe Hall, and during the night hears a nois© in the drawing room. She discovers Geoffrey in the act of robbing his father's priceless collection of curios. Her prayers, however, prevail, and Geoffrey leaves his home with her connivance and help. Clare's father tells her "that he is going to "marry Lady Gresley. On her way to Branethorpe Clare encounters Annie Fletcher, who asks her to persuade Mr Faussit not to dismiss her father. Clare decides to enter St. Anne's Hostel, of which hex uncle is warden. In London she meets Brian Faussit, who tells her there is trouble in the mines owing to the dismissal of Aaron Fletcher.

CHAPTER VII.—THE WAY OF TRANSGRESSORS.

When Geoffrey Faussit got clean away from the vicinity of his father's house, and found himself in the- open fields, he made pause to reflect upon the situation. It was not one in -which the average man could rejoice to find himself, and . the shame burned honestly in his cheek as he recalled how he had been abased before, the girl be had loved, and who perhaps still loved him. For the moment the desire was quite strong and real with him to do something to reinstate) himself among decent folk. The spot where he made pause was one of singular beauty. Once without the park on the northern side, the ground began to slope sharply downwards, and from the sheltered ridge just under the friendly trees Geoffrey commanded a magnificent and somewhat rugged prospect. He was on the picturesque, instead of the utilitarian side of his father's property, and for miles there was scarcely a blot upon its beauty. The dawn was at hand —one of those exquisite pearly dawns we get in April, and the hush of it was all about the solitary figure resting on a stile, with the small handbag on the hard ground beside him. He pushed back the slouch hat he had worn low over his brows, and, drawing a long breath, took out his pipe and matchcase.

After he had taken a few whiffs the tension of his features relaxed, and he began to feel brighter. The _ nightmare had passed, the new day was in front of him, he had youth and hope and courage on his side. After all, things might have been worse, and Clare was a jolly good sort; there was no fear that she would betray him. Besides he had her promise.

He opened the bag, and took out the dainty gold reticule and examined it carefully appraising its value with a sort of sordid pleasure. How differently he had looked at that pretty bauble in the; Begent street emporium where he had made his reckless purchase, thinking nothing good enough for the girl he loved. It was of exquisite workmanship, and the mount was jewelstudded. It gave him a strange satisfaction to count the stones, six diamonds and seven rubies, all of respectable size, and so far as he could judge of fine lustre. It would considerably supplement the sum which, reposed inside of it, even though, it was now second hand.* Satisfied with the prospects it represented, he shut the bag again, and drew from his left-hand pocket a small quaintly-shaped case of black ebony also gleaming with jewels. His eyes glistened as he studied the exterior of the casket. Oddly enough he felt no shame in its possession, though it had been stolen, while the golden bag was given as a free His ideas of right and wrong were perverted. He resented the fact that his father should spend so much money on such idiotic trifles, while he, Geoffrey, went short of needful cash. He felt sneakingly thankful that Clare had not noticed or suspected its absence from the, cabinet, or suggested that he might have any unacknowledged articles in his pockets. After carefully examining the casket, and trying to appraise its value, he pressed the spring and the top part flew open in two sections like a little door. And there embedded in its nest of black velvet was the ivory god. It was a hideous yet fascinating thing. Standing about six inches -high, it was of carving so exquisite that one marvelled how human fingers had ever manipulated tools fine enough to achieve it. The face, though contorted and oddly sinister, had a certain suggested majesty, and the two great diamonds blazing like stars in the eyes gave a weird suggestion of life to the image. Geoffrey handled it with tho utmost interest and curiosity, but always the eyes drew him with a kind of unholy fascination. Once he could almost have felt certain that they moved. So uncomfortable was the sensation, that he presently closed the little doors with_ a snap, thrust the case into the bag with his other treasures, and, conscious that his pipe had lost its savour, started up to proceed upon his way. At the moment the first faint twitterings of sleepy birds, awakening to the wonder and glory of the new day, stirred in the trees.

Away in the pearly heavens the first

trill of the lark clove the stillness. It was all exquisite and soul-inspiring. But Geoffrey had neither eyes nor ears for Nature s early morning glory; the problem in front of him was how to get away from observation and possible pursuit, and to reach a south-going train. He consulted his watch, and found it was ten minutes to four; he remembered that one of the mail trains from Scotland was due to stop at Durham at twenty minutes past six. If he could reach Durham in time to catch it, ho would be in London bv noon. But he must avoid the roads and highways, for a man travelling on foot with a handbag in the small ■hours of the morning is, generally speaking, an object of suspicion to the police. But all the field paths in the vicinity of Branethorpe and Catley were intimately known to him, so that he need make no mistake.

He made none, by half-past four he had cleared what he facetiously termed to himself "the danger zone," and was heading for Durham, the smoke of which hung low upon the near horizon. Walking at a good stiff pace, he descended upon the picturesque old town about half-past five. and reached the station about twenty minutes before the train was due. Half an hour later he took his seat quite unnoticed or unsuspected in a third-class compartment; and made inquiries about breakfast. In his appearance there was nothing to attract attention or suspicion. He was well dressed in a suit of homespun tweed, a light overcoat, and a slouch felt hat. Then he had the grand manner. Geoffrey had always been able to impress others with a sense of his own importance. His belongings were at an hotel in Newcastle; he prepared a telegram which he despatched at Darlington, giving instructions to send them on to a small hotel in Soho, with which he was perfectly familiar. The rest of the journey was without event, and the afternoon •of the same day London swallowed him. Arrived at his hotel, he sat down and wrote a letter marked "Urgent" to Annie Fletcher. He did not, how-. ever, give any address, but simply instructed her to leave Catley by a certain train next day and that he would meet her at King's Cross. He specially enjoined upon her the necessity of secrecy but informed her that probably they would sail for Canada in a few days' time. Then he went out to dispose of his wares.

Oxford had made Geoffrey perfectly familiar with the habitat and methods of those who advance money on personal belongings, or take them altogether in exchange for half their value in hard cash. By four o'clock that afternoon he had disposed of the jewelled hag, only however, for a third of the money he had paid for it. This somewhat dashed his spirits. Over a cup of tea in a Strand tea shop he counted out his actual possessions in money, and found it amounted to thirty-seven pounds; barely sufficient to pay two second-class passages to Canada where it would leave them without a margin. There was no help for it, he must dispose of the ivory god. When he emerged into the street again, a thin fine rain was beginning to filter through the close air, and he felt glad of it. The errand on which he was bound did not require the merciless light of day, it was one best performed in hole and corner, out of the sight of decent folk.

The process of discovering the proper kind of dealer to relieve him of the curio, was a difficult task. For about two hours he wandered 1 in the purlieus of Wardour street and even walked to Great Portland street, but somehow, on the threshold of all these emporiums his courage oddly failed him.

Finally ha got back to his hotel for dinner about seven o'clock having got no further than mere prospecting outside the dealers' premises. He had a clear day in front of him before Annie should arrive, and there was no hurry. Perhaps fortune might favour him in the interval and show him some loophole of escape from his uncomfortable possession. The hotel at which he had put up was second-rate, but comfortable enough for persons of ordinary requirements. Its moderate tariff brought it within the reach of those who had little superfluous cash, but who wished a fairly decent address. Geoffrey had visited it several times but not lately, and the clerk at the desk, new since his last visit, did not recognise him as an old patron. He passed into the somewhat gloomy dining room took a table at the further end, and sat down to wait for his meal.

Presently his attention was attracted by scraps of talk he could overhear from the adjoining table, where four men sat rather closely together dining, and conversing continuously in low eager tones. Geoffrey shifted his chair, and with the evening paper propped up so that he appeared to be deeply engrossed in it, strained his ears to hear what was going on. He, quickly discovered that they were either diamond or jewel merchants, and that their talk was entirely about prices of such commodities. He noted them carefully, and observed that the chief spokesman was a person of Dutch extraction evidently from his talk though he had neither the heavy figure nor massive face of this country. He was small, wiry, alert, with restless eyes not unlike the ferrets at Branethorpe, Geoffrey facticiously thought. But quite evidently his comrades looked up to him, and seemed to turn to him naturally for guidance. After they had dined he gathered that they intended to retire to the billiard room. He concluded his meal in leisurely fashion, slowly making up his mind what to do. Undoubtedly this man whose name he had gathered was Van der Groot, would be the one to help him.' He summoned the waiter, gave him a handsome tip at the same time asking for a good cigar. When that was brought he put a casual question. "Who is that little Dutchman who has just left the room with his pals? I'm

nearly sure I know him, but -I should like to be sure of his name." "That is Van de Groot, sir. He belongs to Amsterdam. 'E comes 'ere a lot." "I was sure it was Van der Groot. diamond merchant and curio dealer, isn't he?"

"Yessir, I believe that is his business. I've 'eard them say thet wot he don't know about diamonds an' sech like, ain't worth knowing.' He used to stop a plice off 'Atton Garding, but he got robbed there of a bag wiv stones hi it and since then 'e's a bin comin' 're. Thet's the story, sir, mite or mite not be true. There's a power o' lies travellin' the country, sir," he added pathetically as he whisked some crumbs from Geoffrey's table. 'And that's where you're right, my man," 'said Geoffrey cordially. "Gone to the billiard room haven't they, I'll just pop down and renew my acquaintance with Mynheer Van der Groot." He entered the room in the casual way of the man who has dined and having an hour to spare is indifferent as to how he spends it.

Still carrying his paper he sat down on the end of one of the settees and resumed his reading. The party was now reduced to three, two of whom were playing a hundred up, while Van der Groot sat in the other corner of the settee to which Geoffrey had made his way. They glanced at one another, Van der Groot gave a slight nod in response to the other's civil good evening, then there was silence except for the remarks on the game which promised to be an exciting one. Presently as if irresistibly drawn Geoffrey dropped his paper and began to watch. He was naturally a good billiard player, there having, been a very fine table in his father's house.

"Seem pretty well matched," he observed with a well assumed smile of lazy enjoyment. "Clinking good game, isn't it?"

"I suppose so, I don't care for it myself," answered Van der Groot with a strong guttural accent. "I've never had time to amuse myself like that." "That's a pity," observed Geoffrey with his pleasant smile which somehow won everybody. "All work and no play, you know." The Dutchman shook his head.

"Sounds very well, but it won't what you English .say, won't wash. If you want to succeed there is no time for play."

"It depends on your line of things doesn't it?'' suggested Geoffrey pleasantly and then added "Bravo!" in praise of a particularly good shot on the table. "What is yours, my young friend?" inquired Van der Groot interestedly. "'Commercial traveller?"

Geoffrey laughed aloud. If that was how his appearance struck a casual stranger, well, he supposed he must look the part. But it was a blow to his pride. *

"I'm a traveller of sorts, I'm on my way to Canada at present." "Ach, it is for Amerika you are bound! Veil, it is a great country. Many of my countrymen are there." "Mostly in the States, though, aren't they?" suggested Geoffrey. "Canada's too raw for them yet. In the States they have money to spend on the jewels and precious stones you are such good judges of."

He made the remark of a set purpose, yet in the casual tone, at the same time sitting forward and craning his neck as if his deepest interests were centred in the play. He was x auite conscious that Van der Groot was studying him intently, but he managed to preserve his air of casual detachment admirably and Van der Groot acquitted him of any suspicion of wanting to know things. "You seem to do everything well in your tight little country,'' he said, with a smile of lazy enjoyment. "If that is a sample of your billiard playing." "Ach, but there are not Dutchmen, they are Englishmen," said Van der Groot, a fact of which Geoffrey was already perfectly aware. "What are you going to do in Canada?" Van der Groot inquired next. "In Canada, oh, take a farm I suppose. It's the only thing open to a man at present but I mean to keep my eyes open. It's a new country, there must be all sorts of undreamed of chances, as well as unexplored treasures. When one thinks of the mineral wealth alone, one's brain reels!"

"Your people do not seem to believe much in it," said Van der Groot drily. "Your British capital, it goes here, there, an' eferywhere but not I tmk, to Canada." "It is because we as a nation are pigheaded, Mynheer. When once somebody sets the example the rest will follow like a flock of sheep."

Van der Groot, appraising Geoffrey's clothes, the fineness of" his linen, the small pearl pin in his tie, decided that this interesting young stranger was worth talking to. "You vill set the example perhaps?" he observed facetiously. Geoffrey nodded.

"It is what I am going to do." "You will invest perhaps in large tracts of land, and prospect," he suggested. "Precisely what I intend to do," repeated Geoffrey unflinchingly. "Ach, veil, we shall hear of you, and when you come back von meelionaire, we poor merchants may have some business to do with you, perhaps." "Oh, probably. I suppose it is better to go directly to dealers for jewels instead of to shops, Mynheer? I infer from your words that you are a dealer in precious stones." "It is what I am, but yes, it is better, you get ze full value, an' ze expert advice. With a shop one never knows. Some of them are honest, but more often not, and besides, they do not know. It is a business which is never learned in von man's lifetime, however long he live."

"Sounds interesting, but a bit slow," said Geoffrey indifferently and rising as

he spoke, lie moved nearer the table as if his interest in the game had become more acute. It was finished presently, and the players said they must be going. Van der Groot went out with them, but nodding to Geoffrey said he would be back soon, and would be glad of a further chat with him.

Wei] satisfied, for he knew that he had succeeded in interesting the Dutchman, Geoffrey took up a cue and began to practice. He was left about five minutes only, and when Van der Groot returned, he stood watching the strokes with interest.

"I see you haf a fine game," he said facetiously. "But I tink there vill not be many billiard tables in the new country. "Oh, I don't know," smiled Geoffrey lazily, and after a few more strokes he lounged back to the settee and they began to talk again. > Geoffrey was very wily, and with that singular charm of manner which had. so often stood him in good stead, he drew the dealer on to talk of his own business, of the values of curios, and the extraordinary adventures surrounding them. "I'm interested because my father does a bit of collecting," he said casually, "I've got a small affair upstairs just now, he presented me with before I left, just for luck. _ I'd uncommonly like to have your opinion upon it." "Yes, why not fetch it, my friend, and I. vill gif you my humble joodgment. What form does it'take?"

"It's an image, in carved ivory, sort of idol, don't, you know. Came from India, I believe, part of the loot of the Mutiny.'' "I vould like to see it," repeated the Dutchman. "There are a good many of them about in ze curio world, some of them valuable, some of them not." "Well, I'll part with this for a fair sum. It's not the sort of thing a man wants to cart round with him when he is roughing it. Shall I bring it now, or will you come to my room and have a look at it. That might be better. You see, anyone might come in here."

The Dutchman nodded, and they rose together and went out of. the room.

Geoffrey paused at the bureau in the hall to get the bag which he explained to the Dutchman he had put in safe custody. Van der Groot nodded as if fully endorsing the necessity for such precautions in a London hotel. Presently they reached the small chamber on the third floor which Geoffrey had engaged for the night, he locked the door and turned up the light. Then he produced the little case which he had wrapped up in a new suit of pyjamas he had been obliged to invest in, because his baggage was still in Newcastle. The moment the Dutchman's eyes fell on the casket, his expression changed. "Ach, my mein Gott!" he cried excitedly. "It can't be, yes it is, let me see it, sir. Where did you say you got this?" His eyes were positively blazing with excitement and his lean fingers trembled as they reached out to grasp the case. For a* moment Geoffrey unable to understand this odd behaviour .hesitated about allowing the curio to pass out of his hands. Excitement so increased upon the Dutchman that he almost danced in the middle of the room.

"Ach, let me see it. It looks like the Nazarabad, but it can't be. They said it was destroyed." "I don't know whether it is the Nazarabad, I'm sure," said Geoffrey coolly and took a step back still keeping the case firmly grasped in his hand. "Take it easy, Mynheer, I'll open it, and you shall see. I don't care about letting it out of my hands." He touched the spring and the thing flew open, the eyes blazing in the artificial light with a strange almost unearthly brilliance. "It is the Nazarabad, my young friend, and I take leave to tink that you haf stolen it. How else could it have come into your possession?" "Stolen it!" cried Geoffrey indignantly. "Nothing of the kind. It belonged to my father, I tell you. I will give you his name if you like " he added in a sort of bravado, "and you can investigate it for yourself." The Dutchman eyed him keenly, _ and seemed to debate something in his mind. If only Geoffrey could have read what was behind that small ferret-like face he would have been amazed, and perhaps slightly dismayed. Only six feet of manhood, his strong alert look, saved him at the moment. The Dutchman's eyes fell before his quiet.steady keen look, and he seemed to shift uneasily on his feet. "Look here, mine young friend, I—where ever you got that, it was not honestly got." "You're wrong then, for my father bought it from a dealer in this city, I couldn't iust name him, but I'm certain." "I don't believe it, the last time I heard of the Nazarabad it was in Spain." "Oh, Spain, well perhaps it was Spain. Anyway he bought it, and paid a good round sum for it." "Well, whoever sold it had not the right to sell it. But if you vill come wif me, my friend, I will take you to a man who can tell you the whole history of it. And I veil advise you to let him have it, for the price he vill pay, for, look you, it is a thing accursed. Nobody who touches it has any luck. Myself I would not puy it, but I know the man who vill." Geoffrey hesitated a moment. Prudence bade him distrust a man he had met in such circumstances, but on the other hand it was imperative that he get rid of the bauble, which was not a safe thing to carry about. "How much do vou think it is worth?"

he asked cautiously, as he replaced it in his pocket. "Oh, to ze man I vill take you to, it is •worth anything. He vill giv you a tousand pound, I feel sure, for he would give it back to the place it belongs so that ze curse might lift. And that cannot be paid for wiv bank notes or gold." "No, it can't, I don't feel very comfortable with the beastly thing, and I think that to-morrow I will return it with my compliments to my father, and ask him for its value in cash."

"That would be better, but at least come and see what Stollweg tinks about it," urged the Dutchman. But Geoffrey now thoroughly uneasy, and regretting the folly that had made him invite a stranger and- a foreigner of doubtful character to his room, merely shook his head, and observed that they had-better be getting downstairs. He moved across the room towards the door, then paused by the gas bracket at the toilet table and signified to his visitor that he was ready to lower the gas, as soon as he had Stepped outside. Then something seemed vo come over him, a staange drowsiness, and everything faded ?!away from sight and sound and sense, and he remembered no more.

(To be Continued.)