A FEATHER IN THE WIND

Sun (Christchurch), Volume II, Issue 491, 6 September 1915, Page 3

A FEATHER IN THE WIND

Si; FRANK SHA W

Author of " The Love Tides" " The Bondage of Hate," &c.

[Copyright.]

CHAPTER VII. TWO MEN. Belle kissed her and left her, reluctantly. But the clear sweetness of the day purged her of regrets almost as soon as she set foot in the open. The street was deserted; Saturday afternoon sent its tenants thronging to the busier shopping streets of the town and to the public-houses or the football fields. None remarked on the girl's beauty as she passed, and she was glad.

"I—l feel as if something might happen, something wonderful,'' she said, increasing her pace to a swinging walk. Street after street fell behind; the

cobblestones gave place to macadam, macadam the rutted unevenness of country reads. A clean, wide wind swept up to meet her as she breasted the rise that led to the brow of the moor. •

"It's a day to live on!" she cried to the freshness, arid s reached out her arms as though to embrace the wide wonderment of the view. A motor driven at headlong speed flashed past;

she hardly noticed it, save for the choking dust clouds that flooded its passing. She did not see the face of the driver thrown over that driver's shoulder; she did not hear the slackened beat of the arrested engine. Life was fair and full

of hope, and there were 1G years to wait before Miles Buckford emerged from the walls that imprisoned him. Sixteen years, and miracles might happen any day.

The road here was lonely and led through a deep cutting. Belle walked on with the beginning of a song of freedom in her soul; and the racing wind

kissed her cheeks to roseate glory. » Somewhere, it seemed to Jier, somewhere .beyond the rising ground ahead fate held a surprise for her; it was as though the world stood still to await a happening that should fill her life .with gladness and peace. ._ With a swift grating of the turned car came to a standstill abreast of her, and its driver leaped, out. Eidded of goggles and low-drawn cap the face was that of Lemuel Lorrit, w,eak, vicious, but now exultant. "So I've found you at last, have I? And no, onlookers, at that. Come, my girl, it's no use pretending to be coy and any better than you are; I know your kind." Belle felt the blood ebb from her cheeks; her heart beat with a mad violence that threatened to choke her. She cast a wild glance about, but the road was entirely deserted, save for the arrested car, the man, and herself, nothing showed. A curlew called plaintively in the distance, wheeling away, as though afraid to remain, .'fDon't go pretending—give me a

kiss; my girl; you're* top lovely T to be up here alone.., Here, jump into the car and I'll give you a spin that'll make you giddy. Six-cylindered car, and I know how to drive above a bit." He had caught her by the arms and was holding her fast; he was dragging her towards him; Belle could feel his whisky-tainted breath on her cheek. By contrast with the clean wind the man's breath was foetfd, foul, altogether unclean. "Let me go!" she panted, exerting her strength to release herself from his clutching hands. "Let me go, you coward!" "Not I. You don't chuck away a prize when you've won it. Come on, Belle, a kiss is neither here nor there; I'll swear there's many a man had a dozen for the asking." She struggled still, averting her face. Before, her strength had been equal to his; now, some madness possessed him, stiffening his muscles; whilst she, cooped up in the factory, had lost her hardness to some extent. He threw an arm about her waist and drew her closer still; his other hand caught her chin and lifted her indignant, shrinking face. "I've been mad for you!" he panted, still fighting against her resistance. "I'd go to hell for you, you —you termagant! " Belle found a hand free, and with every .atom of strength behind the blow, struck him across the leering eyes. "Here, stow that, you wild cat! If I get angry with you—if I get angry with you— —-" He snatched at her again, and overcoming her resistance, pressed kiss after kiss on her bruised lips. His passion carried him away; - he grew savage, dragging her this way and that. Belle tore herself away and screamed. It was a useless effort, she knew; none could hear her, or hearing, none would heed. Did anyone see her they would say it was merely a love interlude between two sweethearts. Lemuel Lorritt caught at her again. "I'll make you pay for that," he yelled, and again she struck him. She was a wild virginal creature fighting for honour, reckless of how she fought so that she escaped his clutching hands.

Once again she freed herself and screamed afresh; then the struggle recommenced. Hex strength was leaving her; the man's madness grew. "Let go that lady!" Neither heard the swift pad-pad of hastening feet on the coarse turf above the road; neither had noticed a leaping figure descend from above. A tall man in tweeds, a man armed with a thin cane, laid his hand on Lemuel Lorritt's shoulder and threw him aside with consummate ease. "You rotten cad! What do you think you're doing, eh?" The disgust and the scorn made the little reptile writhe in impotent rage; he was suddenly conscious of his own meanness in the presence of the newcomer; it was as though his paltry soul cringed into nothingness. "I didn't—she was willing; she asked me, then she pretended- " The stranger looked from one to the other; at Belle, hiding her tortured face behind trembling hands, at her torn blouse; he looked at -Lorritt, mean and vicious, and saw the slowly darkening splash across his eyes where Belle's hand had smitten. "Willing, eh? I don't think so. You little paltry cad, I'm going to teach you a lesson." He reached forward, and, seizing Lorritt by the collar of his coat, twisted Mm round. Then the thiu, lithe cano

began its serious work; it fell with the merciless precision of a well-wielded iWiil. On his legs, on his back, on his upthrown hand, aye, even on his face, that instrument of punishment found a billet—and Lemuel Lorritt's screams of agony died away to groans and then to piteous whimperings.

"Perhaps that will teach you to leave defenceless women alone for the future, my man," said the stranger, and threw Lemuel from him as though he were an unclean reptile. The hope of the Lorritt's reejled away, missed his footing, and came to earth. It chanced there was a considerable j>ool of mud in his way; the drying wind had failed to reach the enclosed cutting. Into this Lemuel plunged with a thoroughness as complete as that of the thrashing he had sustained.

Belle withdrew her hands, to find herself gazing into the eyes of the man who had spoken to her before; kind eyes, these, pitying, and yet, withal, admiring. Contaiuiug in their depths something that might have been puzzlement, too. . "I'm sorry if that cad has inconvenienced you."

A well-cut cap was swept from a handsome head; Derek Carboyne bowed "and smiled. "But I think —I hope you may consider yourself safe from him; he has had a lesson."

Lemuel, sobbing queerly, had picked himself up, and imbued only with one desire, and that to place as great a space as possible between himself arid the punishing cane, he was already cranking up his vaunted six-cylinder car. As the engine hummed he looked towards Belle and Carboyne where they stood, and a gleam of malignamt ferocity came into his eyes. He had been hurt sorely, but his pride, the cheap, inflated pride of a born cad who had numbered many conquests, had suffered the greater hurt. ■ "I should advise you to make yourself scarce my man," said Carboyne, very distinctly. "My man!" It rankled like a poisoned barb in Lorritt's soul. In Middleton he posed as something of a leader of fashion, a man of the world, and here was this fellow treating him as he himself would treat one of his father's employees! But there was no repriev.e; he was outmatched and hopelessly beaten.

He sprang into his car and threw in the clutch; the long machine'thudded away. Lemuel had now no desire to dally amorously with Belle; she had been the cause and witness of his downfall; his petty soul could do naught save brood on evening the score. There must be a way of repaying her for those bodily hurts and those mental smarts. He was ready for almost'any devilment that could be perpetrated without risk to himself at that moment. He swore to the rushing wind about his ears; he cursed blackly, weakly. He'd show her a thing of two, he would —high and mighty though she pretended to be, he 'd show her something that would drag her pride in the dust. And the sooner the better.

But Belle was not troubling about Lorritt's attack .now; she had other matters to occupy her attention. Memory served her well; she recognised at once who her saviour was, and a hot flush encrimsoned her cheeks; her eyes grew very bright; so bright, indeed, that Carboyne gasped a little.

"Who is it she's like?" he asked hirnself, and found no answer come to mind.

That the girl was beautiful, and in a curiously unusual way, was evident, even at a casual glance; a closer inspection told him that if the winds and sun of heaven were allowed their way with her, she would soon grow more than beautiful.

But silence could not long be maintained between them; it was necessary to speak. . "I can't tell you how glad I am I heard your cry," he said earnestly, remaining uncovered, because she was a woman, and so one to be treated with all honour and respect. "I I was ' taking a last walk over the moor when I heard it—just saying good-bye to the old places."

He was making conversation, allowing the girl to recover her savoir faire. For the reaction had seized upon Belle Angel, she had had time to understand what might have been had her rescuer not appeared; sharp passionate sobs shook her frame; she quivered in an agony of shame. "Leaving England to-morrow for Heaven knows how long," continued Carboyne, averting his glance, and throwing forced unconcern into his voice. "An exploring expedition to Thibet, you know. I say—l'm awfully sorry.''

She found her handkerchief and dabbed her eyes. Logically they should have been red and swollen, but instead they were merely bright and pained.

"He —he said I—l—asked him to — to kiss /ine.'\ The cry of a wounded bird was on her lips. "Yes, he's the kind of'animal who would say such a thing; but only his own breed,would believe him. Come, that's better, that's much better." Belle had contrived a watery smile; her lips, and they were beautifully modelled lips, curved. Of a sudden she laughed outright. Corboyne studied her and found himself puzzled afresh. Her dress was distinctly —well, provincial, and yet there was something in her manner of wearing it that impressed him. And her laugh was not the foolish, self-conscious giggle of a girl of her class; it was ratker a quaint appreciation of the bizarre humour of the situation.

"He looked so utterly ridiculous," she said, and laughed again. Then the laughter fled; she became altogether womanly. "I want to thank you, oh, very much. I was frightened, and—and —he was beastly. I don't think I shall feel clean for a long time." "Well, if you're better now, perhaps it would be as well to walk home. I do not think the gentleman will molest you again. By the way—l think you must have dropped this'." (To be continued.)