CHART STORIES.

Otago Witness, Issue 3403, 4 June 1919, Page 65

CHART STORIES.

[All Rights Reserved.]

AT TiiE LAST MOMENT.

By Frank Hubert.

Mr Lethbridge's razor slipped as a dis--creet knock came at his uressing room door, and inflicted an unsightly gash. The red blood mingled with the snowy lather on his keen, hard faee; his temper, never very sweet at this hour of the morning, loosed its bonds and blazed forth like a volcano. "Confound it all!" he snarled. "What the deuce do you mean by startling me like that? Come in, and don't stand outside all day, grinning like a moonstruck gaby!" The prim and sympathetic face of Smiles, his valet, protruded through the half-open door; as he gingerly entered the man made as if to dodge some missile. But nothing was handy at the moment, and for the time being he escaped unscathed, though Mr JLeth bridge's eyes dwelt longingly on his shaving pot. " Try a little of this, sir," began Smiles, flying forward as soon as he saw the sanguinary havoc on his master's face. " It stops the bleeding, sir, very quickly." And, as he applied deft treatment to the small wound on the cheek: " There's a lady to see you, sir. She's in the hall." . "But I won't see her, Smiles. I'll see her—troubled first. I refuse to bo seen. I'll vanish out of this dressing room window. Confound it all, is a man's house his home or is it not? Answer me that, you fool, and don't stand there like an ass. Is my house sacred? Am I to be browbeaten into giving interviews to snivelling lady journalists, who think their sex protects them where a man would be annihilated? That's what she is, Smiles —a reporter, come to gain some insight into my methods, so that the ha'penny papers can run mad on my vicious propensities. The plutocratic thief, the abject swindler, whose daily path lies over the corpses of ruined widows and orphans. Yes, that's what they call me, the libellous rags! I won't see her, Smiles. Where's my shirt? Give me that collar —quick." He was dancing about like a maniac, wrestling with an obstinate buttonhole; and the thumbnail was split ere the stud slipped into its place. This, coining on the heels of the shaving mishap, made him somewhat more rampant than a baited bull. Articles of toilet began to fly about the luxuriouslyfitted room; Smiles stood serenely by ready for immediate flight. He had been well bribed to bear the message, and he was not the man to fail to do that which he was paid to do. " Beg pardon, sir," he said in a lull, as Mr Lethbridge flung a tie aside with a bitter word. " But this lady don't seem like a journalist. Not like the general ruck of them, that is, sir; she's different—somehow. She's been crying, sir ; her eyes are full of tears yet. Crying bitter, sir—she* shakes when she talks. Says it's a question of life or death." . " I pay you your wages to keep me from such intrusions," said Mr Lethbridge in a sudden dangerous calm. " Earn 'em. Go to this presumptuous female and tell her what I told you to tell her. My good man, I desire you to obliterate her. Now, do you understand?" "Yes, sir, I understand," muttered Smiles, and vanished, as his irate master sought among a row of j coats that hung on the walls. The woman, who leaned against the old oak mantel in the spacious hall, started as Smiles appeared. He shook his head gravely. ".It is an awkward time, ma'am," he volunteered. " He hasn't had his first cup of tea yet, and until' he gets it he's just a tiger. No, I'm afraid it's no good, ma'am. Better Avait till afternoon, when he gets home, and see him then." The woman made a despairing gesture. " I must see him," she said in a tense voice. "I must, I tell you. It's life or death-to someone, if I can read the signs. Go. back to him—oh, please go back to him, and sav I am down on my .knees praying for him to come to me." Smiles once more shook his head. " Bless you, ma'am," he said cheerfully, "that wouldn't make the slightest difference. He ain't a man to be moved by prayers, not him. But I'll tell you what —can you wait ten minutes? I'm just going iip Avitli his cup of tea, and if you'll wait here' just as you are, and then collar him as lie comes downstairs; he can't escape you. Yes, that's the way. Just get half-way behind that curtain there,"and spring out on him as he descends. Then you've got him, and Tve earnt my half-suv'rin."' " Yes, yes," stammered the woman hastily. "Yes, I'll do that. For I must see him before ten o'clock." She effaced herself quickly, and the hall appeared deserted' when, . a minute later, Smiles made his way carefully upstairs, bearing his master's matutinal cup of tea. Mr Lethbridge' was known as one of the greatest financiers of the day. He played with millions, so men would have it, as a child plays with toys. He juggled with reputations; the proudest and the noblest in the land were not ashamed to call him a friend if by dome so they might get from him one. of those invaluable tips which often Avon fortune out of beggary. He was thinking of one of his masterpieces of monetary strategy as he stirred his tea, and in spite of the morning's provocations something of a smile nlayed around the corners of his thin-lipped mouth. Only yesterdav he had completed a financial coup which had left his companions—they were verv manv—stranded and gasping on the tidal beach of ruin. For six mad, delirious hours he had played his game, reaping in revrards with both strong hands, and Avringing from those who would have dragged him down by their

cunning machinations even their very life's blooa. jtie stood there a conqueror, and when he reckoned up the figures of his victory ho smiled again and again. But his thin-lipped mouth betrayed never a softness; tney said, who knew him, that he was inhumanly hard. Never a gram of sentiment appeared in his dealings. He was scrupulous to a degree, but beyond that milk of human kindness never seemed to enter into his being. "Sentiment's all bosh," was his ruling motto through life. " Bah i When a man lets sentiment get a hold on him he's, done. He's a broken vessel; he's a useless crock. Sentiment and businee3, my hat! As well try to mix fire and water. So —no sentiment for me." That was his characteristic attitude on 'Change and in "Tile Street." His closest friends, if > they stood in his way, ■wero thrown aside and trampled mid erfoot, to make a pathway for his meteoric strides to success.

"It wasn't a had day yesterday," he ruiminated as he rose and prepared to descend. "They'll take months to recover from the shock, and I'm safer than ever I was before. Now, I'll breakfast,- and see how the world looks." On his way along the thickly-carpeted corridor he stopped outside a closed door, and listened attentively. There wag no sound, and ha refrained from s knocking. Yet, as he turned away, there was in his eyes something of softness, which ho carefully obliterated ere descending. The woman started forward as his foot touched the lowest step, and spoke swiftly. He drew back with a snort of rage, and any traces of softness "vanished at once.

"1 am not visible to callers at this hour," he said very coldly. "I gave my, man instructions that you were to ba sent away. Kindly go at once, before

"I won't go," she cried passionately, "I won't go until I've said what I've, come to say. Mr Lethbridge, you must give me five minutes, two minutes, one little minute. You must. I swear that if you don't I will stab myself here to the heart at your feet." She meant it, it was evident. Her fingers were clawing at the b° 3om °f h er dress; the hilt of a dagger showed there. "Please don't be dramatic," he said wearily. "Save me a scene. I compliment you on your new methods of obtaining an interview, but they are somewhat •. sensational. Really, I shall be- compelled ■ to stop some of these cheap newspapers if they insist " not from any newspaper," she said fiercely. "Do you think any woman would stoop to grovel at your feet unless she was compelled to do so? But I ewear I will kill myself here, and now, unless you willvgrant me a few moments of your time."

"Really, madam, I fail to see why my house should be selected for this—■er—tragedy." "Do you? Well, it. is. simple enough. If I kill myself you will "be my murderer. Yes, morally, you will have killed' me, even though my. own hand drives the dagger home." "Fiddlesticks, my dear madam. You will just leave this house, and you will call in at the nearest chemist's and obtain from him a good, krrge dose of bromide, and in an hour or two you will bo quite recovered. I know what • these mindstorms are." His voice was a trifle petu> lant* and somewhat fatherly. He looked at the woman's face attentively notwithstanding. J - '. She was not lovely; her nose was swollen and red, her eyes were unsightly, even beneath the veil she had pinned close to her face. She breathed in shuddering gasps; her hands clawed at her bosom, wandered over her dress, closed and unclosed spasmodically. Now, Lethbridge admired a pretty woman; an ugly one "he detested. So he shook off the hand she laid on his arm, and turned, but the dagger was withdrawn with a meaning he could not fail to understand. "Well," he said surlily, "what is it you want? Be quick, for I assure, you, madam, it is only by the exercise of selfrestraint that I refrain from summoning the police. Who are you, in the first* place?" ' "I am Mrs Storman," she said, and a flash of hope crossed her face, making it almost beautiful. "That name won't convey anything'to you, I suppose?" He shook his head slowly, pursing his lips'. "No, I thought not. But my husband knows von well enough to curse you with his every breath. He was one of the many poor fools who Avent under yesterday, when you, for your own amusement, plaved with securities at your own sweet will. Now, do you understand why lam

here?" "Madam, if you husband has been playing with fire and has got burnt he has onlV himself to blame." ''Has he? Ha? he? He -was an honest man until he fell under your ban. Not a thought of evil in his heart, till the cursed mania for speculation seized him. Ho dabbled in a gentle fashion, lining his own scant capital, and -won a little. It encouraged him to go on further. He went on, and won a little more. Then you camo along with some specious scheme, and he was lured to try again and again. Then he lost, he tried more, and lost again. That is the story. But he felt within' himself a hope that by one big coup he might reimburse himself for all his losses, and stand to win more than ho had ever won. He had no capital, but he holds a position that gives him control over large sums. He—borrowed money that was not his to borrow, and bought Golden Lode shares. Now—ah ! I can see you tremble. You understand what has happened." "Madam, your eyes deceive you if you think I tremble. Pray go on; though I am prepared to know the story beforedand. He bought Golden Lodes, you say? Yes —sit down in that chair there, and recover yourself." She shook with strong emotion, and hey

eyes -when they were lifted to his face glared balefully. "Well, you know what happened. Everybody thought that the Golden Lodes ■were sure to rise swiftly. He bought and bought, even though they were beginning to/go down a little. They went down still. He held on to what he had, knowj n g_they had told him—that they would jump up' higher than they had even been. But still they -went down, lower and lower—for you were at your cursed work. Then he grew alarmed; he said it was time to sell out what he had. But no one would buy, the bottom had fallen out. If he could have sold, them he might hove managed to repay the money he had borrowed. But the shares were a drug on the market, falling, falling, until they were hardly worth the paper they were printed on." And now " Her voice broke, she" gasped for breath, her face worked frightfully. "And now, madam?" "He is a ruined man. He cannot repay the money he took, and to-day before noon his books will be examined. He cannot find' sureties; he will be called upon to account for what he has taken. He cannot do it, and they will —they will —send him to prison as a common felon." "Exactly. He deserves it. Any man who hold's a position of trust, and who -*jses moneys that are placed in his charge for his own ends, any many of that nature, I say, is only fitted for a prison cell. Your husbknd has behaved dishonestly, madam; I nee no reason why he should not pay the price of his—mistake, shall we call It?"

She glared on him from brooding eye?, He was altogether unmoved. He had been face to face with this kind of tragedy a hundred times. Had he been a sentimentalist he might have offered here consolation, but—he was hard, as hard as granite; hence his fame and his fortune. "Then you will do nothing?" she gasped breathlessly, half rising from the chair. He shook "his head again, and his lips set in a straight, hard line. "Nothing. My dear lady, if I were to disorganise my plan for every such story as you tell me, I should never know my own mind for two minutes together. It is a common tale to tell. Tell your husband from me not to interfere in matters that he is totally ignorant of, and I can only hope the waiting—your Waiting—will not seem too long." "He will never submit to the disgrace of imprisonment," she muttered. "I would not let him. Bather than that he should become a felon I would kill him.. And tile disgrace—oh, the disgrace! My children!" She rocked to and fro in an ecstasy of dread. Suddenly she sat upright and her face was the face of a fury. " Then you will do nothing?" she repeated. He wagged his head again. "What can I do? Give your husband sufficient money to make good his losses? Encourage him to stoop to crime again? No, madam, I am not interested in your husband's career sufficiently, I'm afraid." "We would loathe your money. No, do something with those shares. You can, you can! Do something that will make them worth what they were when my husband bought them, and give him a chance to retrieve his position. He is not a criminal. He was so sure that the shares would rise. . But for you and your murderous work they would have risen high, and I should not be down here on my knees pleading to you, you hard, cruel man!" She was on her knees by this, clawing at h'is coat skirts. She moaned pathetically, but Lethbridge was unmoved. He had witnessed scenes like this before.

"Madam, my plans are to keep the Golden Lodes -where they are for as long as I need them there. What? The others have fought me, have they? Yes, but I'll fight them in their, own fight, and I'll nob stir hand or foot to move those shares until I have them coming to me grovelling for mercy. So, Kindly relieve me of your presence. You annoy me with, your stage tactics. Get up, woman, for heaven's sake!" Her face was fearful to look upon now, as she scrambled to her feet and brushed a lock of hair from her eyes. " You will do nothing? Then my bitter curse be on you, my deadly curse be on this house. May you never know a moment's happiness in this world. When your need is gi'eatest, may your children rise up and curse you! May your cunning brain fail you in the hour of your greatest need, may " She stopped, panting, and even Lethbridge recoiled. "Go!" he hissed. "Go, before I summon the police to remove j r ou. And as for vour common curses "

"Are they common? I tell you that a woman's curse is a deadly thing, and you havo mine—you have mine " A sudden loud cry rang through the palatial house, & screaming sound that spoke of awful pain. It was repeated again and again; it seemed to pierce the very man's heart. Then came a choking gasp.. a wild patter of feet above, and the voice of his wife came to him in accents of awful agony. "John. Quick, at once! It's baby. Ring for the doctor. .Tell him to come at once. I'm afraid baby's "

He gained the telephone at one stride. Frantically he rang it. for well he knew what was toward. His infant son—the one joy of his life, the one thing that he and the gracious woman above shared together jealously, sinking their worldliness to join in the harminess over the mite—his infant son was ill. s He had had these attacks before: the doctor had said that only prompt measure could suffice. What an infernal time they were in answering the call! Ah! there it came at last.

" Exchange, is that you, Exchange? Give me three-double-O-six-X. Quick, 'don't repeat it like a narrot. Yes, three-'doulile-O-pix-X. Ts that three-double-O-Bix-X? Yes, this is Mr Lethbridge's. Tell Dt Symons to come at once—at once, do you understand. Tt's my child. He is dying. "What! What! V Dr Symons in-

jured in a motor accident this morning I My God ! Hello, Exchange—whero's that directory? Hold the wire, Exchange. Not another doctor in the confounded village. Give me Trunks, Exchange. Hello, Trunks, put me on to London, Mayfair." He was turning over the leaves of the directory madly, skimming from name to name.

"John, John, baby's worse than ever." In a frenzy he called up a London doctor, and the sweat dripped down his forehead.

"Never mind speed limits. Come as fast as the devil will let you. Your car's out of gear? Buy one. Never mind what it coits : I'll pay for it!" "Is he coming, John?" "Not Symons; he's hurt. A London man. Nellie, don't scream so." "I can't help it. _ Baby'll die; he'll die: I know he'll die." " Where is the child?"

The other woman had started forward, alert, capable; her previous distress forgotten in this bond of common suffering. She had striven to keen silent, striven to gloat over this agony of soul in the man who had thrown her life in ruins; but she was a mother, .and she had "seen in the other mother's face something that reminded her of days gone by. "Who are you?" Nellie Lethbridge gazed at her jealously, as she turned to mount the broad stairs again. "I have children of my own. I was a nurse before I was married. Quick, woman, let me go." Another frightful scream had come from above-stairs; it rang and echoed through the house as a message of unbearable pain. With a white face and starting eyes Mrs Storman gathered her skirts in her hand and raced madly up the stairs, Nellie Lethbridge in her wake. Lethbridge, torn by fears that he could hardly name, sank gasping on to a chair and mopped his brow. A couple of nursemaids flew down the stairs and vanished; they returned, and behind them the fat housekeeper waddled breathlessly. The house w r oke to brisk, active life; feet sounded overhead; the shrieks of the suffering child rang out again and again, then died away in a choking sob. Lethbridge watched the clock that ticked unconcernedly. Threequarters of an hour must elapse before the doctor arrived, and in that time what might not happen? His child, his only child, the child he had worked and slaved for—was dying. Perhaps by this he was dead, and all that arduous labour of the past was wasted. They would never have another child, that he knew well. And his whole soul was bound up in that struggling atom of humanity above-stairs. There was his secret. Outwardly adamant, in the most domestic affections he was almost inhumanly human. Not a soul save his wife knew what that child meant to him, and she only by reason of her love for him and his love for her. The clock ticked shamelessly, dinning in upon his brain, so that at last he rose with a curse, and sent his fist madly, through the face. There was a whir,\ it ran down, and the significance of the thing smote in upon his reeling brain. Was it a token that another spring had run down—for ever. No, thank God 1 there was another ciy. But not such an appalling cry this time. Minutes dragged on slowly, he paced to and fro, awful to gaze upon. Still no message from the room above. If the child were dead the grief of the mother was very silent. He stopped a nurse, who flew downstairs again, but she thrust him aside and fled on, her face white, her eyes staring. Would that doctor never come?

Softly he tiptoed to the corridor, and paused, listening outside that door where he had paused—how long before was it? Choking gurgles came from the other side of the closed portal, he opened gently and peered within, but a ' dimly-seen nursemaid put her finger to her lip, and the room was very dark. Splashings and murmurs came to him; something was being done there in the gloom, but what it was he dared not guess. Downstairs again, to pace the thick carpet like a madman. At long' last—he said his hair was whitened in that hour of agony—the throb of a motor sounded, it rose to a scream, there was a jar of brakes, and he flung the door wide open. The keen-faced, alert man who entered looked at him at once.

"What is it?" he asked. And Lethbridge, voiceless, pointed to the stairs. Still more waiting. Would the suspense never be lifted? No sound from above; not even a whisper. The child must be dead long since, for he well remembered what their own practitioner had said. Another attack, unless attended to within a few minutes, would prove fatal.

Ah ! hero was someone. Who was it? There was a thick mist before his eyes; he ran forward stumblingly. "Bear up, man," said the surgeon comfortingly. "The child's all right. I shouldn t have been any good, though; too much time lost. But who is that woman you have up there? She seems to have saved the little one's life. Handled the case as daringly as an old doctor, by my soul!- Wouldn't have thought a woman capable of doing such a thing. Yes, yes, she's saved your boy's life. Studied at Guy's, she tells me. I thought her face was familiar. I know, she was Sister Frances. Yes, she had just such a case to deal with once—ah! now I'm beginning to remember. Here, hold up, my friend. Have you had breakfast? No? Of course not. Get into the breakfast room and eat, man, eat. I'll join you. These sudden scares " He began murmuring medical platitudes ; to all of them Lethbridge turned a deaf ear. For the figure of the woman who had saved his child's life, the woman who had paused in venting her bitterest curse to ' answer the call of suffering humanity, was coming downstairs. She reeled a little as she walked, for with cessation from anxiety had come a return of the old, awful dread. "Star here," he said sharply. "Don't leave this house till I return." Ho called

his own swift motor, and as soon as it came hs flung himself in the tonneau heedless of his hunger. Mrs Storman strove to eat the meal that was set before her, but the food choked her. After a vain struggle she went back to the silent room, and there two women wept together in each other's arms. The child slept peacefully, its eyen breathing was the only sound to be heard besides their robs.

"Where is Mrs Storman?" demanded Lethbridge on his return. And when he saw her, "Get back to your husband as fast ara you can. Take my car—here. I'll go with yon. Tell him to sell Golden Lodes at once—remember. For Heaven's sake don't let him delay a moment. But if he unloads before eleven o'clock he'll find buyers at any price he likes to ask. Now ■—ooma at once."

The cold air' bit his cheeks, and sent his blood surging madly through his veins. He was counting the cost—his swift manoeuvre on the 'Change had probably £ost him a fortune—as yet he could not say—but—the woman had saved his child, and he was well content.