The Devouring Fire

Taranaki Daily News, 21 September 1931, Page 14

The Devouring Fire

Sy

Lora Gorell.

: CHAPTER XlX.—(Continued.) " 'E’s boon upset thape last few agreed Mrs Smithers, unburdening herself, “J>ut ’e’e Bowj 'e's got ’is young lady with him ■nd i expeot they've made it up Djf how. Regular Jack-in-the-box he .1 Been, but 'e’ll be ’ls usual cheery sell jigaln after, this, I’ll lay.” ‘‘His young lady?” repeated FarBent, suppressing a sudden surge oi Excitement. ‘‘Miss —er —Miss Gan, U’you mean?” The shot scored: Mrs Smithers became genial. “Yes; d’you know er? Lord what children these young tellers are! Having no one else here tt talk to in a matter of speaking, ho * talked to me about 'er till I’m fain? Kick of 'earing the sound of 'er name. Not but what she's a nice enough girl, ®ut 'e's dotty about ’er." “Ah, well," said Farrant crisp. |»‘ we can only be young once, I’ll go fap and see them. Which are his looms!" r " Second floor, front and back, they’re in the front, and I’ve just gent them up a cup of tea. He told taia not to bother—’e don’t give no (trouble, that I will say—but I see [from the look of 'er she’d be glad of St.” , “ Right. I'll go up, then. Without further words and with 3 Seating .-heart Farrant ran up the Hstalrs. On the second landing he paused: he could hear voices in the front room; but the door of the back Boom was ajar, and It lured him. H mushed it open and found himself in Kyhat was obviously a young man’ fcedroom. He drew out his note book snd went straight for the heterogeneous collection of shoes under the fflressing table. A moment later he atood erect in his hand a rubber"*U|tudded shoe, the marks and measurements of which corresponded minutely w?lth those made by his hitherto unknown man, B. With a sigh in which both satisITaotion and distaste were blended, he stepped out again quietly into the massage. The voices In the from sfoom continued: they were no longer she tones or ordinary conversation, (level and Indistinct. The words of A loving girl, beset with a nameless fflread, reached - him sharply: “ Jimmy, It isn’t true I It can’t be I Oh, telt me it isn’t true I” A man’s voice answered slowly and In awful pain, “ God, If I only could, j've botched my life —and yours, Trances. That’s the hell of it I Yours as well as my own. He's dead and his z fleath js at my door. X ought never jo have gone to the Grange like that; t was mad, mad! And now I’m at jny wits' end to know what to do 1 Farrant could play eavesdropper no longer. He had heard enough, and ft seemed to him inexcusably mean io. crouch there on the landing listo such a revelation from the ver to the loved. With a quick turn ,of the handle he flung the door open hiyl strode In, hardening his features ■*jnto a sombre authority. Facing him across a disregarded tea-tray sat with blanched face and horror-stricken eyes the girl he had jgeen once or twice casually at Pols- • Worthy and knew to bo Frances Beside her, with agony, doubt, and ihame on hl? handsome face, stood a young man whom he knew at once from the photograph he carried to. bo James Latham. Both started in a spasm of apprehension as the door Vv&s flung open: both stared speechJessly at the stern, accusing figure ■jhat had suddenly broken in upon their pain. “I’m sorry," said Farrant verygravelv “but I've no option In the Blatter. I am Sergeant Farrant from (jpolsworthy police station, and I a.fest you, James Latham, on the charge if murdering your uncle, Mr Robert .©rlmwade, .on the night of June 16, And I warn you that anything you say will be taken down and used in evidence against you.” Frances, white as a sheet, rose to her feet with an inarticulate cry. Latham started at him a moment as though doubting the sight of his own lyes; then he gave a short, mirthless laugh, and, pulling himself together frith the whole of his strength, said in a choking voice: * “ That settles It, then. Don t let s have a scene. Frances! Oh, my God, ifrtiat a fool I’ve been!” CHAPTER XX. Francis Cary’* Evening. - Farrant glanced from Latham to B Shoes, he recalled the footsteps of e woman entrant Into the library. a judgment absolved Frances, the *vords he had overheard reinforcing -’ah# impression of her atmosphere, frja heart hardened to Latham, guilty re so Farrant reasoned, not only cowardly murder but also of secret liaison, unfaithful- to the brave and charming girl who was -•bowing in every movement and look tier unshattered faith in him. Forant knew a great pity for her, with a further terrible revelation of her lover still impending over her. ' When the moment for departure arrived Frances, disregarding Latham’s ’ rigidity, put a hand on him with the firmness of desperation and field ‘‘Au revolr, Jimmy. Keep your courage up. Is there anything I can started as from sleep; he looked at her wanly a moment without speaking, and she repeated her he then answered .wildly. •’What can any one do?" “ You must have advice; you re entitled'to that," she reiterated. ' “Yes you’re right, you re right! I'm knocked silly; 1 can’t think or see ahead. God bless you, Frances, for atickinjr to me at all." Rapidiy he Save hi’ the name and address of his fSd Richa'rd Scott. “He’ll do for ine all a man can. Send him along to ifiee me as soon as you can. Frances promised to get Into communication with Scott, and her first was to get to a telephone and ring She had met Soott once; she tad heard Jimmy ot him on fioveral occasions not merely as his S friend, but also as a young soh- ■ s .tn n was sure to do well. After EhS, seemTd to her an interminablf SeUy she got through. Steading herBelf resolutely, she gave Scott all she knew Jimmy’s words to her, and his arrest. She heard him gasp BMI incredulity and dismay, and her “armed to him the sound. Ke gave her, Indeed he could give Ber no encouragement, but he protnised to drop everything and come to fils friend's assistance without the of % moment, Jlloglpally _relley-

cd. Frances started on her journey some. Her father, mother and brother were just, finishing supper, a delayed meal on account of her continued absence by now, the two elders were distinctly uneasy, They saw her with relie’f, a feeling instantly changed to renewed and definite anxiety by her appearance; she looked the ghost of the girl who had some so smilingly down to breakfast. “My dear," exclaimed her mother, “how late you are! We were getting—Frances, what is the matter? Are you Ill? Whai has happened?" To their vast concern the girl flung her arms about her mother, buried her head on her shoulder, and sobbed as though her heart would break; her calm was not proof against love. In broken accents she told her pitiful story, and the exclamations of astonishment and disbelief were balm to her. Frances explained what she had already done as regarded legal help, and both she and James were commended. “ But that's not enough," added •her mother; “we must think of something else.” “I know," exclaimed Frances suddenly. “ I’ll go to Daddy Birch. He knows all about these things, and he’ll help Jimmy all he can, for ray sake; I'm sure he will." She rose from the table, a new light in her eyes, and the others all warmly fortifying her with their approval, ran without lingering out of the house, and hurried to Mr Birch's cottage. In a very few minutes she was knocking at his door. . Mary Fitchett opened It and for an instant Frances’ heart almost failed her. Mary’s engagement was no secret, and Frances shrank to see before her the girl the fortunes of whose love presented such an Ironical contrast to her own. This would be the wife of the man who had just lodged her lover In gaol. She had forgotten Mary, almost fogotten Farrant, In her concentration upon helping Jimmy; she quavered at the door and nearly turned away. It was a saving grace that Mary had apparently heard nothing; she looked at Miss Gary, white and red by turns with a solicitude Indeed, but without either reserve or. consciousness, and catching her low-breathed question answered her with heartiness; Yes, Mr Birch was In; ha was reading, Mary thought, In his room; wouldn’t Miss Cary walk in? Miss Cary would; In another moment she was shown in. "Oh Mr Birch, forgive me for coming Ing like this; but I’m in such trouble I Jimmy—Mr Latham, I mean—has been arrested; he’s charged with murdering his uncle. Oh* &nd he s all the world to me!" Mr Birch motioned her to a chair without speaking. He swallowed once, and his grave, lined face worked; his keen old eyes searched her with a compassion she found instantaneously healing. She felt Liat ho shared her trouble, that with him there was no need of long explanations and asseverations. She eat down and waited for him to question her. “ I know," he said slowly. 1 Harry Farrant telephoned to me half an hour ago. I confess It was very unexpected. He's been talking the case over with me—he’s been good enough to pretend that my experience was useful to him, but I think really he only wanted somebody to try his Ideas about It on, and so I know generally what's been happening, but I’m not quite clear about this. He tells me he overheard Mr Latham confess his crime to you. “ No, no,” cried Frances; “ I’m sure Jimmy didn’t mean he killed him. He was there at the Grange, and he was Just beginning to tell me about It—he was so worried and bothered that he’d asked me to come up to town and see him —when the sergeant walked in." “What did he say? That he was at the Grange.” , 4 . “ Yes. He said he’d run down in the car to have it out with Mr Grimwade about —about me, you know. ' And there was a quarrel, and then “ Yes ?” Then he hesitated., Mr Birch, you’ll help us, won’t you? £ “ ean ’ I'm right to tell you everything he said, aren’t I?” , ~ “Indeed, yes; It’s the only chance. “ Oh, don’t say that!" “ I mean he must speak the truth, the whole truth, and so must ¥<>“l “ you want to help him. Keep nothing back. And then —?" , . . . “Then Jimmy says he lost ms temper and struck at bls unc e. And he went over backwards In his chair. Jimmy thought he was only stunned, but the next day he saw in the paper that he was dead. That s all he had; to fell me." ~ . , Mr Birch moved to the mantelpiece, rested one hand on it, and looked blankly at the empty grate as he felt for his pipe with fingers that trembled in sympathetic emotion. He was fond of Frances Cary; In an odd way she reminded him of his own daughter, now dead. “ I see," he said at last. Did he er did he say if anyone was with “Anyone with him?" Frances Jerked her head up in surprise. No. Why?” «, “ Because Farrant tells me he found traces of two people, a man and a woman." “Two! A woman?” Frances rose to her feet In breathlessly aghated es&itement; she continued with deep emotion, “ Oh, Mr Birch then It wasn’t Jimmy. It cant have been! Mr Birch’s sombre regard softened as he looked at her; he was more ■touched than he cared to admit by her instantaneous reaction to unquestioning fidelity. He understood her thought; her lover might be foolish and headstrong; he might go secretly ■to the Grange, quarrel with his uncle and strike him, but he was Incapable of wronging her. u “ I have not your assurance, ne eaid gently. “Obviously, I can’t have’ I barely know (Mr Latham by sight,’ and you love him. |t ® u t dined to agree with you." “ Oh, heaven bless you, Mr Birch I Frances felt a great weight roll off her at the words; she seized his hand and would have kissed it had he allowed her, but he drew It away] spying almost witfl- sternness! tTa £0 coatinued.l