WOOING OF DARIEL

Taranaki Daily News, 17 July 1933, Page 11

WOOING OF DARIEL

By

May Wynne

CHAPTER XXlV.—(Continued;)’ “Ah," said Restyne.” “So Colin has caged his bird. That’s all right, my dear, but what are you in such a hurry about? You didn’t want to run away from your bridegroom? I net er heard of such a thing. Running away from a lover? That can’t be allowed •Dariel was too frightened to resist the ,man, who dragged her back Into the Inner room, closing and locking the door. Then he released her. “Just in time for supper, he croon, ed, "Stand still whilst I light up. She obeyed. The close atmosphere, with its blending of odours— damp, tobacco, cheese and onions—stifled her. If she had known where the window was she would have crashed through It In headlong flight. Instead, she had to wait till the flare of yellow light again showed her her surroundings. “Supper!” quoth Restyne. Good! Come and have a meal. I have arrived In a lucky hour. Colin will be here presently, and tell us his final arrangements. We had different roads. Now, let me help you to beef." “Let me go," pleaded Dariel, let me go. I—l will give you money—a thousand pounds, if you will open tha. door.” How he leered at her. •No use, dearie,” he retorted. "I know too much. You’re the penniless lass who wanted to marry McAlne. You ye your head screwed on right. Colin s lucky there; but I must say I prefer the jewels. Queer! I never thought our Colin would lose his head a morsel of cheese now?” • “I want nothing,” moaned Dariel. “Listen to me. ! promise on my honour you shall receive one thousand pounds—”. ' The striking of some sharp Instrument, a knife probably, on the door cut short her speech.. ■ Restyne rose, wiping his mouth. He had eaten greedily, and drained off half a tumblerful of raw spirits before he shuffled out into the passage. He had evidently recognised the •signal. And a moment or. two later he re-entered with Brinloch, who smiled and bowed towards the pale-cheeked girl, who shrank back at sight of him. “In five minutes’ time,” said Brinloch, "a friend will be here to motor us to Perth. You, Charlie boy, can have my car—and gang your own gait. No, I won’t eat, but you can give me some whiskey.” “Right," agreed Restyne, “but what about the jewels."

Brinloch raised his eyebrows. “You’ve sold the three most value'I"’e,” 1 "’e,” said he, “the profits have been d.. fled; You took lion’s share. I shall dispose of the rest. You can meet me this day week at the old rendezvous.”

Restyne shook his head. “That’s not good.enough," he retorted. "You are taking the girl—and marrying her you tell me. Don’t think I’m the fool you suppose. You told me she wae a poor dependent. I don’t believe It. If you’re marrying her she has money. You have your share. You are' leaving me with your car. knowing the police are watenmg oud for it. It’s a dog’s game you are playing, and I mean *to see. you shell out before we part. Hand over that necklet.”

“Very well,” agreed Brlnloch, but there was a queer glow in his eyes which made Darlel afiald. “Come into the fother room and we’ll settle. You shall have—all you ask.” Darlel, left alone, sank Into a chair covering her face with her hands. Her brain whirled. Those words of Restyne’s filled her with dismay. She realised that Br’nloch had a purpose in kidnapping her —and that he had done so not merely to make a hostage of her to aid his own escape. She was in the hands of an unscrupulous villain —and every road of escape seemed closed. CHAPTER XXV. The opening and closing of doors brought Dariel to her feet. Bnnloch was alone, his face was grim. “Come," he said roughly, “we cannot keep my friend waiting.” And catching at her hand he drew her ou into the passage. The storm blast swept up from the now open outer door Dariel tried to hold back but she could not. Something sinister in her eompanlan’s manner made her tremble. ~ . . As they passed that other door she heard a cry as of one In pain. Dariel cried out too. “You have hurt him, she accused, “You have been fighting your friend.” Brlnloch only laughed. Serve him right,” he retorted, “he had to be tmight manners. Now, remember, I stop at nothing to-night to gain my ends. You will be wise if you keep quiet.” . , Dariel did not reply. A Watery moon gave light to the dreariest scene which from time to time was obscured by scudding clouds. In the roadway—such as it was—stood a car. A cloaked figure with hood drawn up over the head sat behind the driver’s wheel. “We will sit at the back, said Brinloch —addressing the unknown chauffeur, “Come, Dariel.” He forced the latter into a seat beside him, and the car moved forward at an increasing speed. Dariel rallied after a short time of utter collapse, and unexpectedly leaned forward catching at the driver s cape. “I don’t know whether you are a man or a woman.” she said desperately, “but for pity’s sake ... for the love of Heaven, save me from this wicked man in whose power I am. Save me.” • Brinloch dragged her back. AOu little fool!" he said roughly, “you don’t know when you are well off.” The car was racing now along the high road across the darkling moOrs. Whither were they going? “Save me,” cried Darlel —and felt the thick folds of a rug enveloping her. Brlnloch’s grip was firm. As he thrust the half-suffocated girl down to the bottom of the car, he noted two figures step out for a second from the shadow of the trees. “glow Flayia," he injitlSl’ed,

then—“ Scorch, Durrack or Mollene are on the watch. We must reach Aunloch by two o’clock.” "Right,” said Flavla Consell, and once again the car leapt forward. Then—it seemed as if the great machine came to a dead stop—even before those men sprang out into the road.

Flavla Consell’s voice rose high—even as she heard a curse and the wrenching of the door. “Here’s your man, Durrock,” she shouted —“and Miss Deene. Don’t let. him get clear. ’

j A blow from a butt end of a. pistol ! would have laid her low had not Brlnloch’s wrist been gripped. It was Graham McAlne who spoke first praise to a plucky ally. “Well played, Miss Consell. Well | played, America,” he said —and for the ! first time Flavla felt the thrill which ' comes at the sound 'of well-earned applause. The next moment Durrock and his men had swarmed round the car. . , . and the career of Colin Pearns —alias Brinloch —was ended from that time and .for some years to come. Durrock, having secured his prisoner, gave the signal, and two small cars Immediately appeared. “I guess," said the detective very respectfully to Miss Consell, “you and I had better take the prisoner home, whilst the Laird gets back with the other lady and some of our men. Mollone is off to that mill where I guess he’ll be finding Charite with some of those jewels we missed." “Sure," smiled Flavla—and without •another glance for McAlne —climbed up into the car. The road was lonely, enough. . . . though & small group of police officers stood by the engine of the car eagerly talking of the success of their ambush, Within the car, Graham McAlne had loosed the smothering folds of a rug and lifted Dariel back on to the seat. She was still dazed. “Save me,” she moaned, “Save me.” Graham took both cold little hands In his. • “Dariel," said he. * * * ♦ Morning had come—and it was right that the sun shone since in the Castle of Glanferne and all around was jubilee. Flavla Consell had told far and wide how ashamed she was to have blackened the young Laird’s name. Long before noon young and old knew who it was who had played the villain at the Castle. ’’ Flavla made no secret of her own speedy return to U.S.A. But- —she went with flying colours. The heroine of a great adventure. And the other heroine? She was seated on the sunken wall, looking down into the rose garden when Graham found her. She had been awaiting his coming. . There were no traces of her recent terrors on her pretty face, in her serge frock and blue hat she looked as fresh and dainty as a picture. She smiled a greeting and the dimples* ran riot in her cheeks. Graham McAlne looked so desperately serious, and not a trifle careworn as he came and took her hands, standing before her amongst budding roses. It was she who spoke first. “Flavla is going back to America,” ■she said, “After all we<are dearest friends. She has been splendid, I .... I am ashamed to think I ever hated or despised her. She is going to marry her first sweetheart." “Good,” applauded McAlne, “I shall congratulate—the sweetheart If ever 1 see him.” “But—what of Glanjerne?” asked Dariel .... and the dimples were running riot again. Graham squared his shoulders. “1 have written to my lavyer,” he said, “and told him the place must be put up for auction. I need the money—at once.” “And why?” asked Dariel Innocently, “is not the farm going to pay? I have heard from Ailsie and she tells me already your mother is better and that all expenses are defrayed by a •friend." “Yes,” said McAlne, “but I still need money as I am going to marry—almost at once. Indeed I hope to succeed in getting a special license.” ■Dariel opened her eyes wide. “And who?” she asked, “is the bride?” .He laughed, blushing. “You forget,” he retorted, “the promise you made. . . . down there in the woods by Ellen Pearn’s hut.” She .gave up her jesting, but began argument. “Listen,” she urged, “and look well iround. Glanferne is your home. If you married a rich wife, It would be yours for all time. If you marry a beggar maid ” He took her In his arms. “I marry the girl I love,” said he. And so for an hour they dreamed Love’s young dream, there in a rose garden.- It was only when the chiming of a bell warned them they must be returning to the Castle that Dariel added her news. “I’ve got a wee confession to make, Graham," she said half shyly. “You won’t be angry, will you, or, or refuse to marry me if I tell you?” He looked grave at first, then smiled back into tha smiling eyes. “I promise—blindly,” said he. She sighed in great content. “It’s only,” said she, “that I was the patron at the back of Tony and Kitty., My grandfather left me a quarter of a million. . . . and so we shall not need to sell our Scottish home, Graham. Now that’s settled, we’ll go in to lunch.” And if I tell you they were only back in time for tea, perhaps you will not be surprised. Whilst Dariel —being fond of prophecy—concluded a lengthy talk with lime honoured words: “They lived happy ever after." THE END.