THE CROWDED HOUR.

Otago Witness, Issue 3995, 7 October 1930, Page 76

THE CROWDED HOUR.

By

J. J. Bell.

(Copyright.—For the Otago Witness.) A clock struck six.

In the private office the October dusk was gathering, but Richard Farrant, normally impatient of indifferent lighting, as of all inefficiencies, appeared unconscious of it. He lay back in his chair, his attitude expressive of absorption; not, perhaps, an unusual attitude for a man still young, who, in the course of the past six years has, by sheer energy of brain and body, forced an oldfashioned, moribund business into liveness and prosperity. But, for the first time in those years, Richard was permitting himself, in business hours, to meditate on subjects which had nothing to do with commerce. For an hour his thoughts had been re-' volving round two things—a girl’s beautiful hand, on which, for two years until this morning, he had been daily aware of an engagement ring, and a sheet of notepaper bearing two lines of typescript, now lying on the desk before him.

That there was a connection between the beautiful hand and the typescript he could not doubt, though just what the connection might be he could only vaguely imagine. He would have given much then to have known whether the disappearance of the engagement ring was temporary, or final. There was a tap on the door of his secretary s room, and she came in with a sheaf of letters. Instinctively she put her free hand to the switch—and the dusk was not so deep but that one could have seen it vyas a beautiful hand. “No, never mind the light,” said Richard, sitting up. “Can you see to sign the letters, Mr Farrant? ’ she said, a hint of astonishment in her quiet voice. T > i/F 1 , 1 ? letters can wait. Sit down, Miss Belfield. I have sombething to say to you—or, rather, something to show you, not willingly, but because I don’t see how I can do otherwise.” He picked up the sheet of notepaper, with the three lines of typescript. “ This,” he went on, addressed to myself and marked private, was delivered bv messenger, a little more than an hour. ago. Let me say at once that J regard an anonymous letter and this is one—no matter what the motive, as beneath contempt. Don’t let it disturb you, apart from rousing indignation at the writer, whoever she—somehow I imagine a woman—or he may be. He passed the letter across the corner of the table. Miss Belfield s fair face was pale; there was apprehension in her blue eyes. But as her glance took in the words, the blood mounted and anger sparkled. No wonder! These were the four lines of typescript:

YOU WILL BE WELL ADVISED WITHOUT DELAY, TO DISPENSE WITH THE SERVICES OF MISS NINA BELFIELD.

The hound! ” she murmured, and there Was a pause. sorry,” said Richard at last; but I was bound to let vou see it, was I not ? ” ’

_ Oh, yes.” She was pale again—white. “hank you, too, for doing without the lights. I have never in all mv life felt so shamed,” she said. “ There can be no reason for shame on your part, Miss Belfield. You mav be sure that “that letter makes no difference here. Is it necessary for you to regard it seriously ? ” “It is seriously intended,” she answered, adding, “I think I had better tell you that a man typed it.” “ I apologise,” he said gravely. "Well,” rather grimly, “it’s easier to deal with a man in such a case.” Hie glance met hers. “Will you allow’ me to deal with him ? ” She shook her head.

" Well, is there anything I can do ? ” “Nothing.” she replied, laying the letter on the desk, “ except do as he says—dispense with my services.”

“ Miss Belfield, what are vou saving?”

“ The only thing there is to sav, Mr Farrant.” She bowed her head.

After a moment: “Miss Belfield, you are afraid of this man! ” She was silent. “ Well, I’m not,” said Richard. “Won’t you tell me who he is, so that I may prevent any repetition of this sort of thing? Have you suffered from him before? ” “ No, not in this way. Believe me, it would not do any good to tell you his name. But I will tell you this much. Until last night I was engaged to be married to him.’’ “The skunk! ” You are well rid of him. Now listen, Miss Belfield! The thing is absurd on the face of it —the idea of my dispensing with your services, by which, I suppose, he means dismissing you—you who have helped to make this busines what it is! ”

“ But that is nonsense, kind nonsense! ” she protested. “I was only sixteen when I came into your office seven years ago; I’ve been your secretary only three years.” “ You’ve been through the struggle that made the business what it is,” he said, warmly. “ You have never failed me, or the business. You have never spared yourself. Anyway, I can’t do without you. And the business is not going to do without you! ” “ It’s awfully good of you to put it that way,” she said, with a faint smile. “ But ’’—with a sigh— “ I must go. Of course, I shall stay till you have chosen someone to take my place, and I hope you will find someone quickly.” Abruptly she got up and laid before him the sheaf of letters. “Shall I ?” She looked in .the direction of the switch.

“I can see,, thanks.” Rapidly he scanned the letters, and wrote his name, as managing director. Then he looked up at her. “Do you wish to go?” . The gentleness of his tone almost overcame her. She made a little movement of negation. “ But ” “ You are being terrorised in some way,” he said. “ I’m not going to stand it. Who is this man?”

“ Please ! ” The little word was a poignant appeal, “ Well, well, I shan’t bother you now,” he said. “The beastly thing has upset you, and you’ve had a heavy day. But we’ll talk about it in the morning.” He handed her the letters, and she passed to the door. There she halted. “ I’m so sorry,” she faltered, broke off, and went out.

In her room lights sprang into being. Richard remained in the dusk. “If it hadn’t been for that ring on her finger,” he thought, “ I’d have asked her a year ago.” Nina was the last of the staff to leave. From the outer door- she noticed that the private room was in darkness. She had an impulse to go back, she could hardly have told why, but it passed. The lift was off for the night, and she went down the long flight of stairs slowly, drearily, and out into the street. She had not taken many steps when she was stopped by a man, young, goodlooking in a way, but with something unpleasant in his eyes and a certain suggestion of cruelty about his weak mouth.

“ Well, Nina,” he said mockingly, “ have you got the sack ? ” “ You—you worthless thing,” she breathed, and made to pass on. But he had her by the arm. “ I asked you a question, and I want ..an answer.”

“ Our acquaintance ended last night,” she replied. “ I have nothing to say to you.”

“ We’ll see ! Let’s go to a quieter place.”

In his grip, unless she created a scene, she was bound to obey. He led her to the first side street, down it a little way, and into a deserted courtyard.

“ Now then ! Have you left Farrant’s employment ? Yes, or no ! ” He thrust his face close to hers, and she drew back from the fume of liquor. “I have told Mr Farrant,” she said coldly, “ that I shall leave as soon as he has found someone to take my place.” “ Not good enough ! You should have left to-night. But it doesn’t matter. You are not going back after

to-night ! ” “You must allow me to arrange things as best I can, Fred,” she said, unconsciously uttering the familiar name. “Be satisfied with having insulted me by that anonymous letter, and killed by career. I refuse to leave Mr Farrant till he has got another secretary.” “ Curse your Mr Farrant ! You’re in love with the man- ” “ Don’t you dare ” “Or you want to be a rich woman.

That’s "why you threw me over ! ” “ You know you are not speaking the truth, Fred Shore! I threw you over because you had proved yourself to be quite hopeless.”. 1 ' She drew a long breath. “I never loved you. I only pitied you. Because I had known you nearly all my life; because you swore to be a real man; because I was foolish enough—conceited enough, af you like—to fancy I could save you from drink and the drugs; because there was no one else —I became engaged to you.” Another long breath. “ And because, after suffering you for morq than two years, I realised that you were altogether vile and worthless, I refused to humble myself furtherj and so put an end to it. Ho now you have it! Let me go! ” His grip tightened. “Carry on! ” he growled. “ Start calling me names now’! ”

“I’ll call you one—Degenerate!”

“Ah! By ” He checked himself. “ Didn’t I tell you I had bought a pistol? ”

“ I’d sooner have the bullet than be engaged to you again—you unspeakable cad! ”

“ I never told you,” he said thickly, “the pistol was for you, did I?” “What do you mean?”

“Guess! ” He laughed aloud, and became suddenly solemn. “ What are you shuddering for ? ” ■'

“You laughed just now like a lunatic.” The words were out before she knew, arfil his fisl rose up to strike. But again he controlled himself. “ I'm sure of one thing,” he said; “ that man is not going to get you; you are not going to get him! You are going home now, and to-night, this very night you are going to write —and post —a letter to Farrant, saying that you are not coming back to his office any more. Also you will tell him that you p-p-partic-u-lar-ly wish never to see him again. Got that?” She made no sign of having heard him.

“ I’m not asking for promises,” he went on. “ I’ll be watching—nothing else to do —and shall know if you disobey. I shan’t give you another warning. I’ll act! Anything to say, Nina?” She spoke slowly, distinctly. “You have tried me too far. I have neither father nor brothers—you have always taken advantage of that! I shall appeal, to the police.” Once more he laughed aloud; once more he became suddenly solemn. “ No, you won’t, my dear! Y T ou’ll think of my poor mother, and do nothing.” “Beast!” she muttered. “Have you finished?” “I think so. Perhaps you would feel more satisfied if I gave you a sight of my automatic pistol. What? No? Well, come along, and 111 see you safely on your bus.” . Still holding her arm, though less painfully, he led her from the courtyard and back to the main street. The traffiffic had dwindled in their absence. The city was now almost emptied for the night. The bus stopping-place was in front of a public house. They had been silent since leaving the courtyard, but now he spoke. “You were late in coming from the office. Had cvervone else gone when you left?” . “ Yes!”

“Farrant, too?” “ N-yes!” she lied. He gave no indication of having not iced the hesitation. “ Had Farrant been still there,” he said, “ I might have gone up and had a word with him.” He spoke no more till the right bus drew up. “ Like me to come home with you? ” lie asked impudently. “ If you wish,” she answered, feeling that she wanted? to get him away from the neighbourhood of the office. He knew Mr Farrant well enough by sight. “Thanks; but you aren’t cheerful enough to-night. I’ll have a drink instead! So long!”. He waited till she was on board, till the bus started. She saw him enter the public-house., and, in her bitterness, wished he might stay in it a long time. She was very unhappy and vaguely afraid. Such a man ought not to have a pistol. All at once sprang up the ques tion: Had he believed her when she told him that Mr Farrant had left the office? A panic seized her; she left the bus at the first stop and hurried back along the pavement. She hoped Mr Farrant had left, but she must make sure. If he were there, she must simply tell him the truth, and warn him against Fred Shore, who. she could no longer doubt, was. apart from the drink not responsible for his actions.

She would have been still more tineas, had she known that Fred had spent les> than a minute in the publie-house, to swallow a glass of brandy. Arrived at the office buildings, she went quickly up the stairs, becoming somewhat breathless at the last flight Nearing the top, she was aware of a light behind the glazed door. So Mr Farrant was still there! She felt re lieved, then suddenly shy. She got ready her key, and stopped

short. The door was not quite shut. Could she have been so careless in leaving the office? No. Impossible. Oh, there was another possible explanation! M> Farrant had gone,, and the cleaners were at work. Yes, that must A laugh! A sound that all but stopped her heart—Fred Shore’s laugh! For a moment she felt sick and faint. Then, with a prayer, she pressed the door inwards. It moved silently. Without a sound she .enteted. The main office, with only a single light, was dim, but she saw enough. Tim

private room was on the left, and in front of it, and facing its open door stood Fred Shore, a pistol in his hand He was talking coherently enough, though some of the words were blurred. . “ And what you are going to do, Mr Farrant, before you leave here to-night before you come out of that room, is to write a letter to Miss Belfield, telling her she is sacked and need not come back to the office; that you prefer not to see her again. You can send her a month’s salary, if you like. Anyway, I’ll see the letter is posted. Got that?” Nina, steadying herself against the counter, waited for the reply. When it came she judged by the sound that Mr Farrant was not at his desk, but standing up in the middle of the room, facing the doorway. “ You are not sober, and I suppose you could go on talking nonsense all evening,” he said, “ so I had better tell

you at once that I have no intention of writing the letter you suggest.” “ We’ll see about that ! ” Shore made a movement with the pistol. “ If,” said Richard, “ you feel that you want to do some really useful work with that weapon, put it to your head, pull the trigger, and blow out what you flatter yourself are brains.” “ You won’t do yourself any good by trying to be funny,” came the retort. “ I’m giving you a chance for your life Mr Farrant; that’s what I’m doing. Sit down and write that letter. And, 1 say, don’t try to slip nearer; don’t try to rush me, for I shall most certainly shoot ! ”

“ I believe you,” said Richard. “ You are undoubtedly the dirtiest, meanest thing that has ever come my way. You went beyond the pale when you typed that anonymous letter. Pah ! ” “ You’re trying to make me lose my temper, so that I shan’t shoot straight; but you’re only wasting breath. Go on ! Sit down and write to Miss Belfield ! ”

“ I have already written to Miss Belfield.” “ You’ve what ? ” “ I have written to Miss Belfield, asking her to marry me.” “ You have, curse you ! But you can’t have posted it. Where is it ? Hand it over. Throw it here. Is that it on your desk ? ” “ Why not come in and look ? ” “ I’m not a fool ! Let me have it—and smartly.” “ No ! ”

There was a pause. It would seem that Shore was striving to control himself, but he could not. Abruptly, out came the loud laugh. “ I’ve got an idea, Farrant ! ” he cried.

“Really ! Where did you steal it?’’ Shore may have missed the jibe. He laughed again, and Nina felt cold.

“Great idea 1” His voice rose. “I don’t want the letter. Nina will be welcome to it—after you’re dead ! See ? And now ” He laughed once more and levelled the pistol. “ Farrant, you’re going to die ! ” Nina suppressed a scream. A scream would not save Richard. On the counter was an old-fashioned inkstand, with a big, weighty glass bottle. In a flash she had it in her hand and hurled it.

It caught Shore between the shoulders, and in the same instant the report crashed out. Then Nina screamed — then caught her breath to see Richard step forth and his fist take Shore on the jaw. Shore reeled and went down. “ Nina,” cried Richard, running to her, “ you surely saved me ! ” “ Did I ? ” murmured Nina, glad of his supporting arm. The police had taken away the wreck. Nina had not protested. Impossible longer to spare the poor mother. “ And did you hear everything we said ? ” asked Richard. “A good deal,” she answered. “ Did you hear me say I had written to you ?” “ Y-es.” “May I give you the letter now ?” Nina was not so pale as she had been. “ If,” she replied, blue eyes veiled, “you think it is—necessary.” A clock struck seven.