THE PRINCESS GALVA.

Sun (Christchurch), Volume IV, Issue 1275, 14 March 1918, Page 6

THE PRINCESS GALVA.

[By DAVID Vv'HITELAW, Author of "The Little Hour of Peter Wells," etc.] ICopyright.] CHAPTER XVl.—(Continued.) Edward Povey rose and took a turn or two up and down the path. He had asked himself at first whether he had been wise to attract, his uncle's attention. But he well knew that until he had "found out the reason of the old man's presence on the island, he would know no peace. He was more than relieved to discover the true state of things and that his uncle knew nothing of the Baxendale affair. The best thing to do now was to get the old man back to Kidderminster as soon as possible. There was nothing to associate Edward in his uncle's mind with the Mr Sidney who lived at Venta Villa even if, as was hardly probable, that gentleman's name were known to the carpet manufacturer. He pulled up suddenly in his walk as a scheme suggested itself, and stood looking down on Mr Jarman. "I really think, uncle, you had better go back and face the music—it's a bit late, I'll admit, but it's your best move." "And face the scandal, too. Not me."

"There, won't be any scandal if you do as I say. Write a letter to the editor of your local paper—the 'Kidderminster Shuttle,' isn't it* Tell him that you have been on a long sea voyage by your doctor's orders and that you haven't been able to write or receive letters for weeks. Say that you have just read in an old number of a daily paper that that you have been 'wanted.' Work up the indignation hot anil strong —say that you are hastening home to take proceedings for libel against anyone who has said a word against, you. You must also, say that Kyser was a friend of yours, and that he had lent you the cottage at Bushcy, and that when Aunt Eliza heard he was murdered she was frightened of ghosts, and that is why you left so hurriedly. Say she wouldn't sleep another night in the place for a fortune.''

"You're a magnificent liar, Edward—same time, I rather like, your idea —I believe vou possess the elements of sense.. 1 ' "

Edward smiled his acknowledgments; then went on:

"But T have a favour to ask, uncle. Forget you've seen me.. I'm here, on business—secret .political business."

"I shan't say a word. Get me out of this benighted place ami I'll do anything you like. Now conic on with mo to my hotel and I'll write that letter." The two men left, the gardens and walked up towards the Old Town. "I'm slaying at the Three Li Hie?, a comfortable old place —nothing grand and smart like these" —Jasper waved to the great hotels on the front —"but 1 wanted somewhere quiet, you see."

'' The Three Billies'? Is that the. little inn that fates an old castle sort of a place—just on the edge of the Old Town?" " Yes—why?"

"Oh, nothing. I'm only wondering if you have noticed anything strange about that old place opposite." "Well—they seem rather a queer lot. Men —mostly soldiers —come pretty often the man who lives there. They come secretly, too; there was one the other night who hid in the yard under my window. .1 heard someone and looked out; you can understand the fright I got when 1 saw the ftp cf a

man's cigar." " What kind of a man was lief Can you describe him?" "I watched after I had put the light oat. There was a horse standing at the door opposite, and the owner of the place tame and saw a wan—another soldier—oft 0 the promises. When the sound of the horse had died away in the distance the man under my window crossed over. J 'vo often seen him. 1 ' "Sallow face, eh? Thin?" "That fits him. l!e"s been in the wars, however. 1 saw him to-day, and he walks with a crutch and carries his arm in a sling. Why? Do you know the Johnny who Jives in the castle?" Edward did not answer; lie was thinking deeply. These clandestine meetings between Mozaia and Dasso were only in accordance with the suspicions that crowded his mind of a plot. A great joy filled his heart as he told himself that Miranda was alive. He was glad lie had written to the Due de Lasuer; a strong arm to lean on would be useful in the work Edward i'ovey had in hand. It was late when they reached the Three Lilies, and the house opposite was in darkness. Edward accompanied his uncle to his room, and together they wrote their letter to the "Kidderminster Shuttle." This done, the younger man took his departure, lie made an appointment with his uncle at the stone seat in the^ gardens for 11 o'clock the noxt morning, ifo was rather sorry he had advised the old man to hurry away; he would have been useful as an informant, living as he did with the enemy under his eye. . Any schemes such as these, however, were doomed to have a very rude

awakening. Edward arrived at the stone seat early, and gave himself tip to his thoughts. His original misdemeanour in assuming the; name and personality of Mr Kyser was all but forgotten in the light of later events, and the plans for the location and rescue of Galva Baxendale. In his own mind he was rather more than half a hero already, and the shock which he received at five minutes past eleven was a sharp one, and coming, as it did, hard upon his self-adulation seemed to him unmerited and unfair.

As steps approached he looked up, expecting to see the portly figure of Mr Jasper Jarman. Instead, he made out a lean and hungry-looking Corbian who, when he saw the figure on the sbat, advanced, and snatching off his greasycap handed a letter to Edward. '' Meester Povcef''

Edward took the envelope and, opening it, drew out a. sheet of paper. It was dated at" 9 o'clock in the morning, and was headed with the device of the Three Lilies.

"Edward Povey,—Please accept my very best thanks for the advice you gave me yesterday evening. You have in some measure atoned for the, harm you have done. On your head, and yours alone, rests the onus of my shattered reputation, the anguish of your Aunt Eliza, and the possible downfall of one of the largest carpet factories in the Midlands.

"Last night circumstances made it expedient that I should dissemble and show you a tolerance I was far from feeling. You are a liar, and I do not doubt for one moment but you are a thief. It was to avoid the possible trial with such a scoundrel beside me in the dock that' I left England. When you get this I will have departed from the cursed island of San Piet.ro by the boat that leaves for Spain at 10. Yon did not, mention your poor wife to me. I do not expect 1 will run across her, it being more than probable that you have murdered the poor woman and buried her in the garden at Adderbury Cottage. Tf I do sec her, however, I will consider it my duty to acquaint her with the evil life of self-indnlgence and ease you are living in Corbo. "The messenger who brings this is the son of the landlord of the Three Lilies,. I have told him that you will reward him—you can afford it. "JASPER JARMAN." Edward tore the letter into little pieces and swore softly to himself. Tt was a rude awakening to his dreams of rescuing distressed damsels. Then he took a silver coin out of his pocket and handed it to the son of the landlord of the Three Lilies. "There's no answer," he said shortly, and turned and walked up to the bustling life of the boulevard. He had entered the gardens with the feeling of Sir Galahad; he left them with those of Charles Peace.

In the early part of the seventeenth century a certain noble duchess, taking a journey through the kingdom of San L'ietro, paid a visit to her old and valued friend the Countess Kibero, and the guest chamber in which the august lady spent two nights has since then been called the Duchess Room, and it was upon the faded glories of this distinguished apartment that the bewildered eyes of poor Galva Baxendale looked when she came out of her insensibility. The moon shining obliquely in at the. long windows Hooded parts of the room in a white light, mercilessly picking out tiie threadbare patches in the ragged tapestries and in the faded embroideries of the chair backs. A fire burning brightly in the grate somewhat relieved the cold splendour of the moonbeams. Galva was, for a few moments, oblivions to her surroundings. Her head tlirobbed and ached distraetingiy, and she gazed with unseeing eyes at the carved oaken pillars of the four-post bed on which she was lying, and on the heavy curtains and fringes which hemmed her in. Her first distinct impression was one of suffocation. She had that horror, so common to those who have lived in and love the open air, of all enclosed spaces and smothering draperies. She raised herself slowly, am! leaning her head on her hand, took a survey of the surrounding objects. The room was a large one, and was lighted by two windows, reaching nearly to the ground, and composed of many small square panes. On the walls the tarnished frames of pictures, mostly portraits, caught the firelight. Facing her was a large tapestry on which were depicted the figures of three huntsmen, with very thin legs, who, accompanied by prancing dogs, were presumably chasing a stag, which was conveniently silhouetted on the top of a symmetrical mountain. As Galva put her foot to the ground the ludicrous figures uccmed to take life and accompany the furniture and the bed in a whirling, fantastic dance, and the girl felt her senses again leaving her. But she must have tottered somehow to the window, for the next she remembered was the cool night breezes of the forest, pine-scented and invigorating, playing upon her forehead.. With each inhalation Galva felt her strength coining back to her, and the memory of all that had happened returned to her in every detail. , (To be continued.) „■*(&.&■&.•