THE FREEDOM COMPANY

Taranaki Daily News, 16 January 1933, Page 11

THE FREEDOM COMPANY

CARMINE GRACE

CHAPTER XU.—(Continued.) The boat train started after 8 a.m.; Walter was up early, left a note to the Danepo Hotel to see that Elsie Cross, was ready. He found she was ready to start, and the cab was there. He saw her into the cab and followed on the bicycle. When they reached the station he told her that Sir Hylton Clive and his secretary were going on the same boat The girl, went rather white' when she heard. “That’s a low down trick to play on a girl!” her tone was wrathful. “I had no idea they were' leaving today, until I got back to Wivel’s last night,” Walter said, quietly. “I know he’s doing it to keep an eye on me, but I’ll be even with him yet!” size spoke resentfully, and her eyes glittered. “You will be ‘kept an eye on’ anyhow

for the present, and it entirely depends on your behaviour as to whether you remain at liberty. You will be watched. Sir Hylton asked me to tell you that.” The girl did not reply. She seemed subdued and sullen.

Hylton and Temple appeared in good time. “There is no need for you to come to Esbjerg, Hanson, now we are here, unless you want to,” Hylton said when they met. Walter looked relieved. “I should be glad not to; it means taking the whole day off. -But won’t she be a bother to you?” Hylton smiled. “Not in the least. We «h all take very ’ little notice of her—but we shall not forget her! Temple wil see that she leaves the train and goes on board at Esbjerg. I can always find some of bur men at s Harwich; I shall send someone down to Kent with her. That will prove that-she is under supervision. Good-bye—till we meet in London, I hope you have better news of Lord Winscombe,” he shook hands as he spbke.

“Good-bye till next month. I shan’t forget -my debt : to you. Good-bye, Temple. J? wish the theatres had been open for your sake,” Walter said. ‘‘■Thanks—T was quite satisfied with Tivoli!” Temple laughed. .

The porters hurried them along with their luggage, and they boarded the train. Walter, put Elsie Cross into a carriage near the others. He gave her a magazine he had brought to the station for her. " ' . ■

“Good-bye—try to go straight for your own sake, and your mother’s.” Walter shrugged his shoulders, and lifted •his hat as the train steamed out of the station.

He walked up the platform deep in thought He felt as if a chapter in his life had ended. It had been so sudden an unexpected, and he felt bewildered with the rapid sequence of events. '

It was<tix» early for the office so he rode back to the hotel, had a second breakfast, and walked up Bredgade to Hast and Sons, - 7.

He explained that he had not gone io. S&bjerg, and. so was 'in time for his work. ; -7

Mr. Hast called him into his office, end informed'him that he was giving him a rise a salary next month. His work was satisfactory in every way, and he was' an asset in the business. “I want you to do some business for me -in Sweden next week. You will, be in. Stockholm for the time. I have no one else to' send as. my son is taking his holidays then. He usually goes for me, but he wants to go to Paris this time. It is our slack time just now. It will be a change for you.” Mr. Hast always spoke in Danish now to him, as he did to his son,.. . ■ , - Walter thanked’him Now he would be better off and have more money to send home. He had made good. It had been up to him to make good. His credit was at stake—and he had done it Another chapter finished.

When Walter came back from Sweden a fortnight later, a cable was awaiting him telling of the death of his father, Lord Winscombe. He had stayed at Stockholm over a week, at his employer’s request, to complete the business, and it -was the beginning of July when he returned. He did not expect to get his leave until the end of the month. He now regretted that he had not taken it earlier to have seen his father. But in the last letter that had been sent on to him the accounts had been so much better: he had not worried about him. He would have liked to have seen the old man again. Now it meant food for thought. . He must go back and arrange about the mater, and the house, and Slater.. He might not get there ih time for the funeral; he would cable to the mater to wait until he came. He knew she would make a bee line for Paris. She was quite capable of leaving Slater to see to the house after the funeral, and go straight to Paris. The cable had come the day before he arrived, and they had not sent it on to him, knowing he was returning the next day and might miss it. There was no steamer to England for two days. He had just missed one which sailed that day. The cable had come on Monday, and stated that his father had died on Sunday night. This was Tuesday. The next boat sailed on Tursday, and he would reach Harwich on Friday and get home that night. The funeral would probably be on Wednesday or Thursday. He would just miss it. He sent off his cable, went at once to Hast & Sons, and asked to see Mr. Hast. He was shown into Mr. Hast s private office. Mr.. Hast shook hands with him warmly. “So you are back again, Hanson. I know your news—l have had a ; cable from Mr. Clive, and I am deeply sorry for your loss.”

“I am glad you. know about it, sir. It makes it easier for me to ask you if I can take my leave at once. I have cabled my mother that I can be home on Friday. I must take the steamer that sails on Thusday—that is, if you can spare me,” he added. Mr. Hast smiled at him and sighed. “My boy, I have no right to keep you. Your work now lies in England. Go back now; indeed it is compulsory for you to go. You have come into a title, and - inherited property. It is your duty

to look after it, and your tenants.” Walter looked at him almost • pleadingly. “My title is an impovished one, and there is no money until everything is settled. The place, Wildacres, is let”

“Don’t think I want you to go, boy, I don’t—l am selfish and want to keep you. If you find you can return, therewill always be a place for you here. I have an agent in London; I will find you a post in his office, because I know you. must earn money. I will cable to him to-day, and give you a letter to him as. well. But I expect you will be in my friend’s office, Mr. Clive. I saw his nephew here at the Terminus Hotel a week or so ago. He is a famous detective, is he not? I hear he is in love with Mr. Clive’s daughter, and will marry her; is it not?” Walter smiled. “I am going to marry Mr. Clive’s daughter, not Sir Tylton,” he said frankly. “So? I am glad to hear it. I make an error then. I did not know.” Walter looked thoughtful. “It’s never occurred to me that Sir Hylton was in love with his cousin, but I am. not at all surprised—she is very beautiful—all men must be in love with her. I thought Sir .Hylton was too keen on his work to be eprls with women,” he drew his brows together as if confronted with a new problem, “Ah! but you see he is the human being in spite of work,” Mr. Hast nodded his head sagely. “I will give you the letter to my agent to-morrow morning. You will call in then to say good-bye, is it not? But you shall not work. You must have much.to do—in case you do not come back,” Mr. Hast smiled wisely. But his last words broke up Walter’s calm. He made an impulsive movement “Don’t say that! Copenhagen has grown into-my heart Though England is my home, and all I love are there—this country grips me. I want to come back. Can I leave some luggage here? Then I must’ come back to fetch it!” Walter was no longer grown-up—he spoke as if he were a child again. Mr. Hast laid a hand upon his shoulder with a kind pressure. “You shall leave what you like here, and then it is that I shall see you again.” Walter was contented with that, and left the office with a lighter heart. The time passed swiftly; Mr. Hast and the head clerk saw him off at the station,, and as the train moved away towards Esbjerg Walter turned-over.>.another page of his life.

He realised the obligations awaiting him in England, and he sighed as he thought of the uphill work before him.He had come to Copenhagen to work and make good. Well, he had carried out his contract and made good; but it had not seemed to him like work,

but like a glorious holiday. All sunshine and wonderful air. He could now know that he carried the sunshine with him wherever he went, and drew the holiday spirit from his surroundings. The book of Copenhagen was closed. Would he ever open it again? CHAPTER XIU.

Walter found there was a great deal to do when he reached England, and went down to Raynes Park. As he had anticipated his mother had crossed to Paris directly after the funeral. He found Slater mounting guard over the house. It seemed strange and sad to be addressed as “Your. Lordship” when enlightened by Slater as to the sequence of eVents.. He wondered tiredly how Slater would deal with the conflicting titles of the living and the . dead, but he extricated himself in the most ingenious way, and was quite smooth in his narrative. “Lord Winscombe died game to the last, your lordship (it Was really very clever of Slater, Walter reflected), the gout had gone to his left arm, and he said he felt damned depressed and in-, sisted on having two bottles of port brought. He drank a bottle and a-half, and died half an hour later. Her ladyship was out driving at the time, and I was alone in the house —it was about half past three that it happened—so I could not leave Lord Winscombe. I tried every restorative, but it was no use, and I asked a man who was passing the house to fetch a doctor as quick as he could. When the doctor came he said I had done all I could and gave a certificate of death. Her ladyship came in at tea-time but was not surprised, and announced her intention of going to Paris after the funeral, which she arranged for Wednesday. We had your cable on the day of the funeral. He was buried at Morden Cemetry just near here. Her ladyship didn’t go, only the solicitor and myself were there. A poor attendance, Mr. Walter—l mean, your lordship. I tried to persuade her ladyship to stay and see you, but she said she must get to Paris at once as she was going into partnership with a lady in a millinery business. She had some money you had set her and the solicitor let her have some more. She packed up her things and I saw her off at the station. We don’t owe very much, your lordship. I have kept the bills pretty closely paid up.” “I think you have been splendid, Slater. I suppose Haddow is our solicitor?”

“Yes, my lord, and I made so bold as to ask him to call here to-morrow afternoon, when I had your cable.”

“You’re a treasure, Slater; you seem to have thought of everything. Now what about dinner? Is there anything in the house —or shall we go to a restaurant?”

“The dinner is only waiting to be cooked, Mr. Walter—l mean my lord. It’s only a short dinner—soup and some cutlets.”

“That’s topping. I’ve got a Danish appetite, and do call- me Mr. Walter, there’s a good soul. My life doesn’t fit me yet,—l shall grow used to it later. But ‘Mr. Walter’ makes me feel I've come home,” and Walter sighed. He had come back to an empty hearth, and the man’s homely name for him was a balm to his sore spirit, for he knew it was bom of affection.

“I’m so afraid of forgetting when other people are- here, Mr. Walter,” Slater looked anxious. “Other people be hanged, I don’t care a damn about them. You go on calling me Mr. Walter—then I shall know where I am., I must look through my father’s

papers to-night. And to-morrow I must see what Haddow can do about this house. I want to get to London as soon as I can to see Miss Clive. We’ll go to that hotel I was at before I went abroad—The London. “Am I to go with you, Mr. Walter?” Slater’s voice trembled with eagerness.

(To be Continued.)