THE FATAL ROOM.

Sun (Christchurch), Volume VI, Issue 1735, 5 September 1919, Page 2

THE FATAL ROOM.

IPy JAMES MeELDERRY, Author of "The Veil of Circumitance," etc.]

[All Bights Reserved.] • CHAPTER XV.—(Continued.) A VISION IN THE NIGHT. HOHOW4 answered nothing, but came after me, groping down the dank and evil-smelling passage till, after what seemed, an eternity, we came out into a deserted room that was all a blaze of light. Then he looked at me, wonderingly, still panting with the run: "You talk as though Dolores herself " But I broke in upon him angrily: "Does one talk of a star while the sun yet lingers in the west?" I think that he was right, and that very madness gripped me that night, for I remembered little of what followed. Only I know that we stood in that room for some time—it was a room like nothing so much as a waitingroom of a doctor's —listening and listening for a sound that did not come. And then the consuming longing to find her—to be near her —came upon me again, and the knowledge that only death could come between me and the achievement of my desire and determination; and we passed from the little room, and out into the hall. There, as in the room we had left, the lights were on, flooding it in every corner. I know that I walked as in a dream, but that, as we went across it, our footsteps echoing, for all our attempts to muffle them, weirdly through the silent house, I drew my revolver, with a laugh, and that Hollow followed my example. At the end # of the hall we stopped again and listened. There was not a sound to guide us to the rooms in which our quest should end. I think that the Woman in Blue and her companion had passed from my mind by then.

We went on, beginning a search of the house that did not end for hours. Everywhere there were lights, and everywhere the evidences*of occupation. Pictures of priceless value hung upon the walls, and the furniture would have ransomed an emperor. Here and there we came upon the little intimate things a woman loves to have about her, and from the rooms in which we found them we crept shamefully with a sense of guilt that I do not remember ever to have felt before. But, search as we might, nothing rewarded us. We began again, going through the rooms one after another, but with the same lack of result. Somewhere in the distance we could hear the throbbing of a dynamo—the source of all the brilliant lighting that made our task an easy one.. But even that we could not loeate. At last, in a room we had somehow overlooked, I came across the wrap that had been oyer the head of the woman I had determined to rescue from Warden's clutches—the wrap through which her hair had burned as she stood on the steps before the door. I folded it with something of the care one bestows upon relics that are sacred, and put it away in my pocket. Then , we went back to the hall again to begin our search afresh. Somewhere, near at hand, we must find them now. There was a sound—behind me; and Hollow was a bare step in front. I gripped my revolver and began to swing round on my heel. Before I had time to complete the movement someone sprang upon me, and a cloth was forced over my head. I fired—madly, but with as deliberate an aim as I could in the direction from which the man had sprung—fired and then fired again and again. And then I was forced backwards, and I remember nothing more.

CHAPTER XVI. THE WOMAN WITH THE RED-GOLD HAIR. - I came to myself suddenly, with a dim consciousness that my throat was parched and my head.-- aching as though something had cloven it in the region of my brain, to find Hollow bending over me and rubbing my hands. How long I had remained unconscious I did not know; but a fresh remembrance of the last night's happenings came to me, and I saw that it was broad daylight. I tried to smile, but the attempt was not a success, and Hollow threw back his head and laughed immoderately. I waited until he had finished, and then said:

"There are few jokes that do not gain by being shared, Hollow.' ' He became serious at once, and helped me to my feet. Then he said: "I shall hope for forgiveness in the fulness of time, Vincent; but really it was so ludicrous that I couldn't help it. Besides, I was thinking of the end of our high adventure. To be thrown out here —at the mercy of the first tramp that eared to rob us, or the first policeman that cared to run us in for being drunk and disorderly, or having no visible means of subsistence! Let us only hope that it never succeeds in reaching the Temple. We should be the laughing stock of the Bar."

I grinned feebly. "Yes. No doubt it's irresistibly fnnny. Still Perhaps you'd tell me exactly we are at the present moment." '' We are in the field in which we left the motor," he said gravely. "After our little accident —we were chloroformed or • something—they carried us to the outskirts of the park, where they left ns beside the road, with this pleasantry pinned to my coat!" He passed over to me a sheet of paper, on which were written the words: "The reward of interference is death. If you value your lives, go at once.— The Woman in Blue."

"WellT" I tossed the paper back to him as I spoke. "It sounds like melodrama of the first water; but intimidation always gets my back up. Go on with the story."

."That's all—at present. I carried you here when I came to myself; and the motor's waiting. I'd go back, only I don't think we'd gain much, and I ean't leave Eddlesham Court altogether alone. Goodness knows what has happened there since we were, so to speak, put out of action. Waldch may have returned to town. The Woman in Blue and our friend the head gaoler may have disappeared also. The captive—if tite woman you raved over so was the captive alluded to— may or may not Btill be immured here. We leave for Eddlesham Court at once, my friend."

I looked round the field and then at the waiting motor dazedly. After a long Eilence, during which I had been thinking the whole thing out as best I could in my present state, I said: "No; I do not think that we return to Eddlesham Court at once—together, at all events. In fact, I have not the slightest intention of returning to Eddlesham Court until I have either rescued the lady who is the subject of this abominable conspiracy of Walden's, or at least satisfied myself that she is not held a captive here or elsewhere." . "I appreciate the chivalry which prompts that vow, Vincent, but I do not think you M»« cuur reason to suppose

that the lady who arrived last night was other than a free agent. It is possible that your view of the case is right, and that she is. the person alluded to by the members of Walden's little band of men; still, are you justified in interfering?" "Is anyone justified in not interfering to save any woman from the possibility of the most unthinkable and awful degradation and suffering? I say nothing of the particular woman in this case, merely to see whom is enough to stir the heart of any man less cynical than yourself—or perhaps I should say, less interested in another woman?"

It was a mean thrust, and I saw Hollow colour hotly. But he ignored it when he answered:

"My dear, chap, don't think I have anything but admiration for your pluck. It was only my own abominable selfishness that prompted me to say—what I did. It is now nearly noon. I propose that we motor to the neai«est town, where we can purchase revolvers to replace those they have taken from us. That will look like retreat. Afterwards, I go on to Eddlesham—you return here if you wish." , \ "Very. well. I think your plan a good one. One can do nothing in the daylight, unfortunately, and nothing without revolvers—or a revolver, at least." It was an hour after sunset when, by means of a tree Hollow and myself had used before, I drew myself up and dropped on the top of the wall surrounding the silent house in which I hoped to find the woman I had sworn to rescue. In my own mind that one look of fear I had seen dawning in her eyes had left no room'for doubt that she, ami she alone, had been the prisoner for whom Waiden had provided gaolers from among his extraordinary assembly. I had resolved to trust to luck and the turn of circumstances and my own ability to rise to them as they occurred. If I should fail—well, I had done my best, and if I emerged alive and unscathed I would make no mistake the third time. I had arranged with a chauffeur whom I could trust to be in readiness at the gates of the house at midnight—giving him the fullest instructions through the telephone. I must do my best to time the rescue, if I could effect it, to coincide with his arrival.

I dropped to the ground with a prayer on my lips that when the moment came I should be able to force an exit from the grounds, or that my companion would be active enough to take advantage of my help and clamber over herself. Five minutes later I had reached the house. This time I was in no hurry to find an entry, and, after making sure that the passage by which we had entered last time was securely barred againsfe me, I began to make a but close, examination of the house. Luckily, it was too dark for there to be any risk of discovery from the inside. If someone were watching on the outside I must take my chance.It must have been a fu>l hour later, just when I was beginning to despair of effecting an entry when the time came for me to make an attempt, that a faint cry, seeming to come from very far off, me into a sudden terror. I listened, placing my ear against the sill of the window nearest to me. At that instant it was repeated. The voiee was that of a woman, and thrice in quick succession it came to me from within the cry that seemed, to thrill with a nameless terror and despair. My limbs trembled beneath me as I moved swiftly from window to window, trying in vain to locate the voice. Again and again it came, and each time I ■seemed to be no nearer to it.

Silence fell again, and then the cries were repeated, and I distinguished an imploring call for help. , I could no longer doubt that the voice was the voice of the Woman with the Red-Gold Kjdr—the woman I had sworn to rescue. And I was helpless—worse than helpless!

Again the cry arose on the night air. Somewhere in the dark and silent house a light flickered. I gripped one of the bars guarding the window before me, and pulled at it in a frenzy of strength and despair. It came awayin my hand, with a piece of rotted wood attached to it. The powdered wood gave me hope. I began to work like a madman, while the sweat poured from me like running water; and in five minutes the last bar was in my hands, and my knife was forcing back the catch which held the window.

I pushed the lower sash up gently, an inch at a time. At last there was spaee sufficient to allow me to enter. I leapt over the sill and listened. Far away I heard the cry again, and then a man's voice, raised in anger and unmistakably threatening. It was no time for prudence and carefully considered action. Somewhere within a very little distance was a woman of surpassing beauty, probably in peril of her life and honour, and direly in need of my help. I began to feel my way about the room, knocking against obstacles every now and then, waiting but a few-sec-onds to assure myself that I had not attracted immediate attention by my carelessness, and then continuing my search for the door. A little thrill ran through me as my hand found it at last, and I emerged into the hall in which we had been guilty of the folly of allowing ourselves to be overpowered: for that it had been folly*and disregard of ordinary precautions I had realised all along. I crossed the hall fearlessly, and arrived safely at the foot of the stairs. It seemed madness to resume the search we had spent so much valuable time upon before, and yet it had to be done.

The many rounds of the house that we had made before had given me by this time a fairly good idea of its geography, and despite the darkness it was not long before"l again reached the hall, cursing my ill-success, but more than ever determined to get to the root of the amazing conspiracy into which I had thrust myself, and to discover the hiding-place in which the woman who was beginning to exercise so great an influence over my life was concealed, suffering I knew not what tortures or discomforts.

Suddenly, as I waited in the centre of the enormous hall, the cry I had heard before thrilled me again. But this time it was close at hand; and immediately after it I heard the voice that I knew must be hers raised now in anger and disdain. ' It seemed to well up from somewhere beneath me.

I moved forward and stood, perhaps, a full moment in a sort of sick giddiness and trembling. Then, just beside me, from some artfully contrived place in the wall, a door began to open—very slowly at first, showing a 1 thin chink of light, and then quicker. A kind of haze of pink-red mist danced before my eyes and passed. A man's head emerged. It was in the light, and he could see nothing. I saw that it was one of the men who had been at the house in Guelder Street. He came out till his whole body was visible in the light. I put my revolver away in my pocket. I am not a weak-

ling, and for all my lust to compass death I hated the unfair fight. I drew in my breath sharply and crouched against the wall till I seemed to have flattened against it.

The map turned and came near me. Could he see me in the darkness? He was within reach of an outstretched arm. Quite close to him was a heavy rug. "With an amazing calmness I waited till ho stood upon the near edge or it; Then, suddenly, I sprang.

It was all over in one incredible second. Nothing like it has ever been in my life before or since. I sprang, and while the fingers of my left hand closed about his throat I brought my right fist down somewhere between his eyes, and lie fell backwards at once withoiit a sound. I caught him as he fell, lest any sound should escape through the door; and then I gagged him with a handkerchief roughly; but I knew, it would be long before ho would regain consciousness, because I had not struck lightly. The whole thing had passed in a lightning-flash. I stood up a little stupidly and blinked at the door which had been too cleverly contrived for, us to see. Then I passed through it and went down a flight of stairs —dimly lighted, but wide and ornamental, and not at all the sort of stairs that go down to a cellar. I could see that they stretched away gradually and shallowly to a.short passage at the end of which there was a door; and I went down them swiftly and listened at the door for some moments.

I could hear the sounds of voices, muffled and characterless and unintelligible, as though they came to me from within thick walls. I heard one that I thought was hers, and it choked and shook. I thrust back the door and came into a corridor that was almost a duplicate for richness of ornament, of the hall above. To my amazement there was no one in it. I went on, stopping presently before a door, and listening. I had come to the. room in which Waiden was. I could hear his voice plainly, then the voice of the man who had asked for gaolers, and then many others—perhaps the gaolers themselves. And presently the voice of a woman—perhaps of the woman I had sworn to rescue, though I did not think so. It was more probably the Woman in Blue—the woman who had evaded us so cleverly. They appeared to be holding a sort of conclave. Something attracted my attention a little further on—something that sounded like a sob. I caught my breath and listened. This time there was no mistake.

The sound came from far down the corridor, where a thin stream of light gleamed through an imperfectly-closed door. I ran towards it. Hero the hall was but faintly lighted by the electric bulbs at the far end. Guards might be in hiding in the recesses at every step I took. I did not care, I came to the door. A man's voice sounded, speaking impatiently and insultingly. Then there eame the sound of heavy weeping, of little stifled pleadings for help, which were answered by the man's derisive laughter. I longed to kill him, but I waited. He was the guard. Presently he would come out. I drew back. And at last he came. I hid behind a curtain—intolerably heavy velvet, with the mustiness of long neglect upon it—and then I emptied my cartridges out of my revolver into my pocket, saying, as I did so, a little prayer under my breath—for her.

Then, with my hands gripping the muzzle of my revolver, I brought the small strong haft down upon his skull, and paid all her debts—avenged in an instant every sneering laugh and insult that the night had heard. He went down like a log, with a faint groan. I reached out my foot and pushed him none too gently into the absolute shadow, and at that there came another short, stifled groan from his lips. I waited a moment, and then pushed open the door of the room and went in. I found myself in a room that was more like a woman's boudoir than anything else. Whoever had arranged it had had taste—taste and knowledge and wealth. I know that I stared at it in amazement, and thought it a strange prison to which to bring a prisoner. There was a bright fire burning, and I was cold. I longed to go towards it—to spend I know not how many hours before it, with the woman who filled all my thoughts beside me. And then I saw her. She was in a small alcove that was just beyond the fire, lying upon a settee covered with some pale satin stuff, out of which her sunset Hair flamed like an aureole. I could not see her face, because it was hidden in her hands, and her shoulders shook a little with her sobs, and, in shaking, robbed me of the vision of her shell-like ears.

I waited a moment, and then went up to her and touched her reverently. She sat up and looked at me for some seconds in silence, and, as she looked, all the fear that had been in her eyes went out. I remember that at the time I marvelled that it should be so—that the power of a man's thoughts should have put that into his face which she recognised and -trusted. For she gave a little gasp, and said: "Ah! God is good!" And got up at once; and, holding out her hand, followed after me to the door, asking no questions; and with one hand gripping my revolver, which I had refilled, and the other holding hers, I went up the corridor until we came to Walden's door. The conclave was still going on. I held my breath and listened to their voices, and then we passed through the door leading to the stairs, and shut it noiselessly behind us, aud climbed to the hall above.

Her small hand gripped mine as we climbed, so that it seemed to burn into me, and my whole being quivered and trembled, and I walked as a man in a dream —a sort of delirium of ecstasy from which I must shortly awake. We passed the unconscious men in the hall, and I hid him from her, so that she saw nothing; and then we came into the room through which I had gained entrance to the house. When I had found the window, and dropped over it, I turned and picked her up in my arms and lifted her through it and carried her farther than there was any ne.ed to do, into the park. And I remember that as I carried her her hair broke away about her forehead and brushed my lips, and once her soft cheek touched my own, and I stifled the cry that would have burst from me at the mere nearness of her. I set her down then, not daring to carry her further, and we began to run, holding hands as before; and twice I made mistakes and got away from the track towards the gates. Each time we stopped -to listen, but heard no sound in the park behind us, and went on in silence, for all the time I had found no words to say. (To be Continued.)