THE PRINCESS GALYA.

Sun (Christchurch), Volume V, Issue 1276, 15 March 1918, Page 6

THE PRINCESS GALYA.

[By DAVID WHITELAW, Author of “ Thi Little Hour of Peter Wells,” etc.] [Copyright.! CHAPTER XVIT, Site remembered Mozara and the car and how, much against her will, he hat insisted on running her out to see tin Falls on the Ardentella. She had knowr that it was a very different thing, the journey inland without a ehapcrone, tc the quiet gliding up and down the pro menade at Corbo. She knew also that her guardian did not altogether approve of even this latter, and as the powerful oar had bounded on past the palace she had implored the lieutenant to take her back. But the young man would not believe that she was serious, and had laughed at her fears. They .would be back in an hour, he had told her, and so, helpless, she hail made the best of it, promising herself a sharp retaliation on her escort when she was safely home again. Galva remembered stopping at a ly spot where two gate-posts stood sentinel by the side of the road. There was a wood, too, comprised, as far as she could recollect, of pine trees, Mozara had here alighted to attend to his engine, and after propping open the bonnet had gone back to the tonnea'u, saying he wanted to get a spanner from the tool-bag he kept there. There was a confused memory after that of a cloth being swathed about her head and the sickly sweet smell of chloroform. Then nothing more—until she had come to herself in tliis,old-world room. She raised her head in the act of listening and tiptoed to the door. She could detect stealthy movements on the landing outside, and through a little crack in the oaken panel came the gleam of a light. Galva was no coward. She had the heart of the Estratos and a line of ancestors whose deeds of bravery were chronicled back to the dim ages. But there was something uncanny in this weird room, with the flickering firelight and the cold moon and the unknown silent watchers on the landing. Then she heard the footsteps creep away, and unable to bear the suspense longer, the girl seized the handle of the door and shook it furiously. She tried to eall out, to ask who was there, but her tongue seemed a useless lump in her dry mouth, and sound would not come. The footsteps outside stopped at the first sound of the rattled door, and Galva heard whispered voices. Then a key grated in the lock, and the girl retreated to the farther end of the room. At the first sound she had taken from her pocket a tiny revolver, hardly more than a toy, which Edward, not knowing what was in store for them in ‘San Pietro, had bought for her in Paris. She saw tire door slowly opened and an old man enter. Behind him Teresa carried a Iray on which were a flask of wine and some covered dishes. ‘•Yon are ready for supper, senorita ? ” \ Galva gazed womleringly at them. All fear had left her now, and she fingered her revolver confidently. The firelight glinted on the little plated barrel and threw gigantic shadows of the old couple on the yellow ceiling. She was speaking in a low voice, which she would hardly have recognised as her own. ‘; Put the tray down’’—every word came distinctly—“and then stand over there —where I can see you both. Then tell me what this all means.” Picto looked at his wife hesitatingly, and pointed to the tray. Teresa set it down. “Now,” went- on the girl, “I want a full explanation—where is Lieutenant Mozara? I don’t think I know either of you—do I?” “The lieutenant has left the. castle.-” “It seems to me that the lieutenant has played a trick on me—a trick that will cost him dear —and, ’ ’ meaningly, “those who are with him in it,” The old people stood witli bowed heads, and the man mumbled something below his breath. “Speak up, man.” Pieto raised his palsied finger-tips to his mouth. “We are not the servants of Lieutenant Mozara,” he said. Galva stamped her little shoe. “Then go to the man who is your master, whoever he is, and tell him to come to me here. If either of you two enter this room again without my full permission I will shoot you down like I would a couple of dangerous dogs — now go. 1 ’ Taking up the lantern which he had set down on the floor on entering the room, the old man made for the door, forcing himself in front of his wife in his anxiety to get clear of the little vixen who could hold a revolver so straight and steady. Teresa gave Galva a long and searching look; then she, too, followed her craven lord and master. And Galva gave a little laugh as she found herself alone again. She took the cover from one of the dishes, and bent her head over the contents. Whatever could be said of the old dame downstairs, Galva noted with satisfaction that she was no amateur in the art of the kitchen, and the dainty meal was soon eaten with the relish of a healthy 34-honr hunger. She went again to the open window, and, looking out, judged that she was some 25 feet above the ground level, but that below that again ran a moatlike trench, dug perhaps to allow light to the cellars. She thought of the curtains, estimating their length with her eye; they might, perhaps, reach the 25 feet, but there was no way of crossing tlie trench. True, the portico of the building was only perhaps 15 feet below her, but it lay some distance to the left and was quite inaccessible. Galva glanced at the little strap watch on her wrist, and saw that it was past 10. From below stairs there came no sound, and she told herself that her gaolers had retired for the night, and, again with the view of husbanding her strength, the prisoner prepared to follow their example. While at supper she had heard the stealthy footsteps again outside her door and the grating of bolts hastily shot into their sockets. It was evident that escape was not to be thought of that night. Tlie glass of excellent Chianti that she had taken with her meal had quite restored her courage and spirits, and she began to look upon the adventure as rather interesting. It seemed clear to her that whoever was responsible for tlie outrage meant her no immediate harm, and she had no fear whatever of the old couple down below. With some little difficulty she piled three of the heavy oak chairs by the door as a precaution against a midnight surprise, and, taking oft’ her outer garments and her shoes, slipped in between the sheets. The fire, which she had replenished from the heap of logs in the grate, shone dully on the rich old furnishings of tlie room, and gave a sense of drowsy comfort and well-being. Candles and matches she found on a little table, which she pushed up near the bed. The revolver lay handy underneath her pillow. Miss Galva, in fact, was very comfortable indeed, and had it not been for the thought of her Koardian and Anna Paluda and the

anxiety tlicy must be fooling she 'would have boon really happy. It was broad day when she awoke, and the birds in the forest wore making merry music. The sun shone in at the windows nud gave light to the somewhat sombre apartment. Galva’s watch told her it was 9 o’clock. She was fooling remarkably well, her > headache had entirely loft her, and she was ravenously hungry again. A sound outside the window caused her to slip | on her garments and look out. Beneath ( her the. little patch of poor soil that lay between the house and the trees had been, at parts, coaxed into a cultivation of sorts, and the old woman who the night before had brought her supper was gathering some kind of green stuff and putting it into the basket that she carried slung over her arm. From her window, too, the girl could see over the trees to the country beyond—an arid rock-strewn waste, and here and there patches of forest land. Away in the distance the range of the Yeblo Hills showed a delicate mauve against the morning sky. Galea watched the old woman for a moment in silence, then: "Good-morning, Teresa.” The girl had heard the name the evening before, and on the old woman looking up she nodded brightly. "Is breakfast ready, Teresa?” she went on. The old woman dipped her head sourly. "Picto shall bring it up to you,” she said. "Thanks, so much; but, by the way, tell him to take great care how he does it. Listen. He is to bring it in on a tray which he will set down on the little table here. Then he will hold up his hands, both of them, over his head and walk out backwards. Teresa was making her way slowly towards the house, giving scant attention to the voice above her. Galva raised her voice. "You understand, don’t you, Teresa? Because if your husband doesn’t do as he’s told I’ll have to shoot him.” The woman in the garden stopped at this and looked up. "You would shoot my Pieto?” "Oh, don’t be afraid, Teresa; I’d only shoot him in the leg. Then you’d have to nurse him, you know, and that would bo a pity, wouldn’t it? Think of keeping an eye on,a prisoner and an invalid at the same time.” Galva never forgot the pantomime of the next few minutes. Covered by the revolver, the old man shuffled unsteadily into the room with the tray, splashing the white cloth with the contents of the coffee-pot. Then, after putting it ■lown where Galva bid him, he began his retreat backwards, hands held high over his head. Hear the door he came to grief with a. crash over one of the chairs his prisoner had used as a barricade the night before. The eld man; remembered to keep bis hands up, and the species of contortions, reminiscent of Swedish exercises, with which he tried to regain his feet brought tears of laughter into Galva’s eyes. He was successful at last, and the girl hoard his limping steps descend the stairs, where, with many curses, he seemed to he, as Galva expressed it to herself, "taking it out. of the missus.” Left alone, the prisoner poured herself out a cup of fragrant coffee. ‘ 1 There seems to be a humorous side to even this adventure,” she said, as she contentedly nibbled at a piece of buttered toast. CHAPTER XVIII. , As day succeeded monotonous day, even Gaiva’s buoyant spirits began to show signs of the strain of hope deferred. The first hours of her cap tivity had given her little or no uneasiness,” feeling sure that her friends would discover her whereabouts: if they did not, she told herself that, armed as she was, she was more than a match for the tw-o craven souls of her gaolers.

But on the second night she had heard the sound of a new voice in the room downstairs, whether one voice or more she could not say. Also the sound of a motor horn had come to her through the woods. This latter she had not given much thought to at the time, thinking that in all probability it was a car on its way to Aleador, Mow that there were visitors in the room below, the memory came back to her and took on a, new significance. Whoever it was who was responsible for this muttering that reached her distantly through the floor, did not seem anxious for an interview with her. She had pounded on the boards with the heel of her shoe, but beyond a short silence and a little laugh it had no

effect, and the murmuring voices went on again as before. Then she hail turned her attention to the heavy lireirons, and the continued din brought old Pieto to the landing to remonstrate through the door, and to assure the girl, in answer to her questions, that there was no one in the house save themselves. But a little later, Galva had heard the opening of the front door, and, in the distance the sound of a motor engine being started. The next morning she had seen a man digging in the little vegetable patch, a coarse, black-browed, evil-faced fellow. Galva remembered having seen the same type of man, with their closely-cropped heads, among the loafers outside the bull-rings in Madrid, and she knew their reputation. She drew back into the room, and for the first time since her capture her heart failed her. Where were her friends, and why did they not come to her ? (To be continued.)