GOOD CONDUCT.

Otago Witness, Issue 4041, 25 August 1931, Page 73

GOOD CONDUCT.

By

A. N. Andrews.

(Copyright.—For the Otago Witness.) The door opened and closed again ever so softly—so softly that Chaddock did not hear it, nor look up from the typewritten page over which he was poring. The greater part of the room was in semi-darkness, the only lights being the low, flickering red of the fire, casting long shadows across the floor at each spurt, and the vivid circle thrown down on the desk from the heavily shaded reading lamp. Whenever Chaddock bent closely over the sheet, his head came within the rays, and his fine, keen features, of the poetic-artistic cast, stood out in sculpturesque relief. For fully five minutes the figure inside the door stood motionless. The clock on the mantelpiece whirred and struck once —half-past 12. The studious one straightened his back wearily, stretched all his muscles in a distributed yawn, and stowing away the manuscript, pulled down the roll top of the desk. Then he turned towards the door and saw, against the lighter paintwork, the dark shape of the figure. Starting back a pace, he gave a sharp exclamation and hesitated, uncertain what course to take. The main switch was over beside the intruder, which cut out all chance of lighting up, so they stood there in the shadows, facing one another silently, each W'aiting for the other to make the first move. The clock ticked steadily; once there was a i rustle as the coals caved in; the rain swept against the windows, and with J each gust the blind gave a flapping

sound. The pause, which lasted but a minute or so, seqmed like an hour, until suddenly the man spoke. His voice was deep, and would have been pleasing had it not been for the cynical note in it:

“ Well, have you thought it all out? ” “ Who are you ? ” “ I am sorry, I have no cards with me. I thought you might have known me.” “How could I, in darkness?” “My voice—you' have heard it often enough before. Perhaps it has changed somewhat in these years.” “ I do not know you. How did you get into my house? ” * “By the generally approved, gentle manly way—the door. Did you fancy I would make use of the chimney, or the keyhole? There was a time when doors meant little to you.” “ What do you want ? ” “I took a fancy to have a chat with an old friend.” “You have chosen rather an unfortunate hour for it.” - “ The first I could—Chaddock, let ns drop this quibbling. You knew I should come.” i “ I had hoped you would not. I had forgotten, Bernstein, deliberately forgotten.” “ Then it is my duty to refresh your memory. You have not asked me to sit down yet.” Chaddock stood silent for a little, then drew two basket chairs over the fire. When he spoke, there was a little shake in his voice, coming from suppressed emot ion: “ Come over here. Touch that switch behind you.” “ No. It is pleasant to sit in the firelight.” The stranger pulled off his drenched coat, and laying it on the floor with his hat on top, settled himself comfortably. Chaddock drew over a carved, Moorish wine table, and filled a glass for the other. As he handed it across he noted the closely cropped hair. “ Thank you. Your health. Are you not going to drink to mine? ” “ I do not take anything as late as this.”

“Changed days! Everything seems to be changed since I —have been shunted. Ha-ha! Our friend is so very respectable! ” “ Don’t speak so loudly. My wife is asleep upstairs.” “ Your wife! That is more news for me. 'You are transformed, Chaddock.” “I am. Why have you come here?” The man carefully picked a basting thread from the sleeve of his brand new suit before replying. “ I really came here to kill you.” « jj “ To shoot you.” From his pocket he pulled out an automatic, the plated steel glinting and shimmering with warm reflections as he toyed with it. The other man did not shift, but his eyes followed every movement, like those of an ensnared animal watching the trapper. “ First, however, I want to talk it all over with you, Chaddock, why did you plav dirty on me?” “I did not.” “ That is a lie. It was by your very hand I was caught. I have suffered these ghastly two years and seven months directly through you.” “ No. no, Bernstein, you do not understand.” “ I trusted you to play fair by me at least—for there is honour among thieves. But you sneaked out at my expense, and I have had to pay dearly for it.” “ I never ” “ And did I pay you back as I could have done? They bullied and baited me, knowing that they had got only half of the firm. Did I pull you into' it, as I could by a word?” “ No, you did not, and you do not guess how grateful ” “ You did not come along to the jail to thank me, anyhow.” “ I was afraid.” “Then you admit you are a coward? ” “Ah, Bernstein—you do not know! A man becomes coward because he has something precious that he may lose.” “ I lost my liberty, more precious to me than anything else. If I had hit harder I might have lost my foothold, on the end of a rope. What had you to lose?” “ Something as valuable to me as my life.”

“ Bah! I have told you why I am here. After these years I have regard for nothing. I do not believe in hellfire. The only punishment I know is iron bars, and I can take my chance of going behind them again, provided I really earn it. Chaddock, for 31 months I have squirmed inside prison clothes and marched round the yard twice a day, dug holes along with the most miserable of social dregs, while I knew you were out here in the open, prospering on my misfortune and spending my share of our money.” “ You are wrong. I have yours here, untouched. My own, I sent to charities.” “You milk-and-water hypocrite! Now you are going to tell me everything. Do you hear ? ” “ Yes. Perhaps you will see from my angle then. You remember the night we cleaned up the Wellpark Gardens house? After you got clear in the car, but had to leave me, I was just turn- ■ ing out of the square when the din 1 arose. The people had a policeman’s whistle. And by ill-luck I walked right ' into a night constable. My clothes stood s me in good stead as usual. He asked ; me what was the matter along there, i like the fool he was, and I pretended i to hear the commotion for the first time, r If I had cut and run it might have

been all up with me, so when he asked me I sprinted back with him. I saw our handiwork, and helped the experts to look for clues where I knew there would be none. There was a girl in the house. She—well, she is now my wife, sleeping upstairs, which is the shortest way of saying it.” “ Very interesting. But it is the next show 1 am discussing.” I am coming to it; this led up to it. I became the close friend of the girl, in that month when you were lyin° r low. I knew that I had to go straight, right from there. That is why 1 never came along to our place. I guessed you could look alter yourself. I was madly in love and spent almost every evening with her. She knew me as a sort of'’dilettante writer, which was no deceit. Of course, I niet her father—the theft was hard on him, for he had only newly received the stones, and they were not insured. I was sitting in their dining room one night when the telephone bell went. The police had found the loose panel at the. shop. The old man was frantic, and insisted on me going with him, and then the girl said she was going, too. I did not recognise it as your work. I knew that my knowledge of these things would help my friends, and used it. \\ hen I led the expedition to the cellars I did not expect to find my expartner there. The first time I knew, was after I had floored you—l swear that. Bernstein, you must believe me.” Your story' is too good to be true. You must have taken a long time to invent it for my coming. I shall tell you the real one. You got to know from young Henri that I was going to put up this job ” I did not! ”

“ And you saw a way of getting rid of me and ingratiating yourself with the woman in one move. So you warned the police, and led them yourself. You have admitted, that, knowing my ways, you caught me when they could not have done so. That blow that nearly killed the old man was meant for you, and I wished you had stopped it. But I lost, and you got your filthy bargain. Y’ou lying coward! ” Chaddock stood up, his eyes fixed on the hand which was nearer the pocket now. He was poised for a spring, but it never came. The door had opened; there was a sharp click, and the place was flooded with light. Framed in the doorway was a young woman. She was very beautiful; slim and graceful, with great, dark eyes and parted scarlet lips. She was clothed in a silk dressing gown covered with brilliant pattern, and her hair was in two long, black plaits. “ Howard,” she began, “ when are you going to stop writing? ” Then she caught sight of the man in the chair and drew back, gathering the gown about her throat, not before her husband noted the frock underneath, however. The stranger rose and waited, deferentially. The ease with which he handled the situation was the very antithesis of Chaddock’s confusion. “ Janette, this is Mr—Mr Belmont, an old —working acquaintance of mine—my wife.”

“ I am pleased to meet you, Mrs Chaddock. It is a scandalous hour to invade any house, but I was passing, after a long absence, and seeing a light I thought I would look in.”

“ ‘We are glad to have friends at any hour. I did not hear the bell. Howard often sits up working after I am in bed, till I have to come and chase him to his. Excuse me a moment, Mr Belmont, whilst I make myself more presentable.” “Do not trouble. lam going—presently.” “I shall not be a minute.” As she went out, Chaddock sat down heavily and poured out a drink for himself with a shake in his hand that set the glass tapping against the neck of the decanter.

“So that is Mrs Chaddock—very charming! No wonder our black sheep has had himself whitewashed.” “Bernstein —for God’s sake go away! Y’ou will utterly ruin me.” “ That might be quite to my liking. No, I think I should like to know your wife better.”

“ Bernstein—give me a chance. I have been straight as a die since I met her; she adores me, thinks I am the finest of men. Y’ou will crush her as well as me.” “ Well, well, I have no sympathy for cowards. I have several interesting little things to point out to Mrs Chaddock —things which have been all I have had to think about during these two years and seven months, sentence reduced for good conduct.” “ Y’ou devil! ” “ Sit still! My finger is on it.” Mrs Chaddock came in again, now dressed in a silvery frock. Flushed, apparently from the hurried toilet, she looked even more charming than before, and very girlish. “ I cannot remember Howard ever having mentioned your name, Mr Belmont.” “ No. I found he had forgotten me altogether.” “ That would be just like him. His mind is so full of his work that he is most neglectful of other things.” He had a most remarkable memory when I knew him.”

“ Then I must be responsible for the loss of it.”

“ Surely not. And so your husband has established quite a reputation in literature, nowadays ? ” Her face glow’cd with pride. “ Yes. Everything seems to be going with him just now. I know’ that, for I act as his secretary.”

“He has made a success of most things to which .he has turned his hand, and he has tried not a few in his day.” “ We hope to be able to have a house in Devon soon, and live there for the most of the year.” “A splendid idea! I have just come from Devon myself, where I have spent a few years. I had a house right in the middle of the moors, commanding a magnificent view. I may be going back there for good, shortly.”

Bernstein looked across at Chaddock. He„was sitting bolt upright in his chair, his jaw set hard and his forehead shiny, gazing at the fire. Then he turned again to the lady. He was a very nimble conversationalist, and under normal circumstances would have been most entertaining. To Chaddock, it was all a nightmare. He wished the other would either shoot him or get the thing out, and be done with it. This suspense Janette Chaddock had said something about music. Would she play to them? The stranger was delighted at the idea. As she sat and rippled through some of her favourites in truly accomplished fashion, he leant on the piano, watching her. Over by the fire, Chaddock scarcely heard the music, but thought, and thought, and trembled at the oncoming crash. Why was she making herself so agreeable? Surely she could see that this was a most inopportune time for entertaining. At last he could bear it no longer. “ I think you have played enough, Janette. You must not tire yourself just now.” “ I am not tired.”_ “ But you know you should be in bed at this hour, if you wish to take care of yourself.” Bernstein suddenly shot a keen glance at the woman. “ Mrs Chaddock has been unwell ? ” He saw the deep flush suffuse her neck and cheeks. “No, no. Just a little indisposed.” There was an awkward pause, during which the visitor’s scrutiny went from one to the other, and all at once a change came over his expression, bringing a strong line between his eyebrows. The lady broke the silence: “ Perhaps I should stop at that, since Howard is anxious for me.” “ Thank you. Mrs Chaddock —it was beautiful. I am sure you must be a source of great happiness and inspiration to your husband.” “ Well, 1 hope so. Sit down till I inflict a piece of home-baked cake on you.” She left them. After a little, Chaddock jerked out: “Curse you, Bernstein! How long are you going to play me like this? ” “Sh-sh!” said the other, “ she is coming back.” The three sat down, now strangely silent. Bernstein was gazing thoughtfully at the carpet, with a queer, hard look. Chaddock happened to glance at his wife —her eyes were riveted on the visitor. The man spoke at last, raising his glass: “ I drink to your health and future happine.-s, Mrs Chaddock.” “ Thank you.” He turned to her husband. “ 1 shall get on my way now. I apologise for having taken such a queer hour to renew our friendship, but then, 1 do not expect I shall see you for years again, and I wanted to settle that little piece of business.” Chaddock turned on his heel, crossed over to his desk, and unlocked a drawer. Taking out a packet the size of a large chocolate box. with a label attached, he faced his partner of other days, looking hipi straight in the eyes.

“ There are the things you left with me before you went away. You will find them undisturbed. I think it might be best to send them to the same distributing agents as I did. You will have most satisfaction that wav.”

'“ I believe you are right. Many thanks —Howard. 1 wish you every success in your profession.” “ And you in yours, once vou find it.” “ Good-hve.”

When Mrs Chaddock came back from the door she found her husband staring at the fire again. Resting on the arm of the chair, she ran her slim flingers through his hair, and her voice was brimming, with sympathy and understanding. “ Well, our visitor has gone at last.” “ Yes. he has gone.” “ You seemed worried while he was here.”

“ I—l was just annoyed at you being kept up so late.”

“Was that all?” “Xes. What else could trouble me?” “ That is what I am asking you. I know there was more than that.” “Janette —I cannot tell you just now, in your present state.”

“ Nonsense! Surely your wife can share your troubles. ‘ You think I am not clever enough to be of any help?” “Sit down, Janette. Oh, I want to tell you everything, but T am afraid. I am a born coward. I thought a certain phase of my life, which T wished to forget, was buried, until its ghost rose to destroy me. And now that it has gone I am no better, for T see I must tell you. Janette. T have lived a perpetual falsehood w>th you; you have known onlv one half of me.” “Do you think so?” “That mar. came here to kill me to irght.” “ Rut he didn’t.” “ r wish he had—it would have been qui’ ker. Tt was only by you that he was ' k' d from h : s purpose. You are ro tn? seriously— you think L am raving! Listen to me, and I will

show you the kind of man you have married.” <

Janette drew her chair close up to his.

“ You listen to me first, then you can say what you please. Do you see that ? ”

From somewhere beneath her dress she produced a miniature but deadly toy. The weapon was one she had carried during their travels in South America. “ You see, the stalker may be stalked. To begin at the beginning: When I married you 1 knew all about you. or nearly all. I stumbled on the truth by chance, from a clue let slip by yourself, before I had known you very long. I kept it to myself, because I loved you—loved you for your real self, Howard, which I could see quite plainly, and which was all that mattered to me. On that night, when father’s place was sacked, I had proof of your straightness, and I was so happy, for I knew that you were done with the old life. I heard the which that man whispered to you when" he was taken, how he would come for you some day. I was present at his trial, though you stayed away, and beard Ernest Bernstein’s three-years* sentence.

" So I gave you your chance, the only one which could put you right, always trying to help you to forget, and —I have never regretted it. I knew that your old accomplice was the only thing to fear, and saw to it that I would be informed of his release. I got word of it yesterday, and knew he would come, and was ready for him. To-night the door was unlocked for him. You thought I was asleep—if you had come to the annexe door, which was open a little, you would have found me covering him with this. One move to harm you. and I let things take their course, for I felt that it might die down in a truce, as it actually did. He was not as bad as you believed; T saw that from the first. I somehow think he will quit the old game. like you. And now. Howard, like the end of your stories, all our fears can be put away. We start afresh. What were you going to say before I interrupted ? ” “ Nothing—Janette—nothing.” For the first time in two years and seven months (sentence reduced for good conduct) as they sat there with fingers interlocked, the only shadows on their faces were those cast by the flickering firelight.