THE ROOM OF SECRETS.

Taranaki Herald, Volume LXI, Issue 144146, 16 July 1913, Page 5

THE ROOM OF SECRETS.

BY WILLIAM LE QUEXCHAPTER X. —Continues. Not n soul did I meet, until at length I gained the car. The man had purled up at the roadside, and, to my groat satisfaction, 1 found him asleep. Apparently ho had not heard tlio shot, nor had any person in the village been alarmed. In the country one often hears a shot after dark—some gamekeeper exterminating vermintherefore country folk rarely take n. tioo of such reports. I got up beside the a.an, and at my Order ho allowed the car co run farther down the hill and then turned to the loft, avoiding the village, and pulling up about a mile farther on.

There we waited. In order that his curiosity should not be too keenly aroused, I hinted at a love affair, and told- him I was expecting to meet a lady. I also urged him to keep a look-out ahead for a light, while my own eyes were fixed in the direction we had come. What if the Arab wero discovered before we could get away? In any case, when the gruesome find was made, as it was bound to be, then, most assuredly, this chauffeur would go forward and tell his story, which, no doubt, would strike the police as a somewhat strange one, and worthy of investigation. The fact that I had telegraphed from London for the car, that 1 had behaved mysteriously in making the man wait in the road whije 1 descended to the village, and was now meeting adady secretly, would all be set down against me. Besides, who would believe the real facts, even if I told them? Would credence ever be given to my strange narrative? No! It was as Joan had declared. I possessed no tangible proof, no corroboration whatever of the existence of that house in Bayswatcr, or of the grim room of secrets wherein I had discovered that evidence of a terrible crime, . , I handed the man a cigar, and, biting off -its end. ho lit up and smoked contentedly. I could not smoke myself, for I was for too anxious to place as great a distance as possible between myself and that hated spot before midnight. For Joan, too, I entertained considerable fear. Even though she might know the footpath, Dartmoor is nevertheless full of dangerous quagmires, fatal pitfalls for the unwary, and more especially in the winter. With anxiety 1 glanced at my watch by the aid of a match lent me by the driver. Wg had already waited there half an hour. Should we return and search along the road? Again I strained my eyes into the silent blackness, but could detect no flicker of light. . So still was the night that, in that dead loneliness of the wide moorland, I could hear my own heart beating. The man had extinguished his glaring headlights, in order to be able to more readily detect' a light ahead. Yet from time to time he. declared to me that he coiiW distinguish'’nothing. We relighted the head-lamps, and again ran baok to near the crossroads, but met nobody. “I fancy the lady must bo farther on, sir,” the driver suggested. Therefore we turned and went slowly forward once more, until the ro?d suddenly ascended, and we found ourselves on the brow of another hill. Scarcely had we reached the summit when wo saw a tiny flicker of light. “There she is!” I cried, eagerly. And a few moments later we pulled up where she was standing. “Did you think I was never coming?” she cried, quite cheerfully, in order, 1 suppose, to divert the driver s suspicion. 'Then, addressing the man, she asked: “How long will it take to get into Plymouth?” “Oh, about an hour, I should reckon, miss,” was : his polite reply. “Then we’ll go there —as quickly as you can, please.” I assisted her into the car, and, taking a seat beside her, wrapped her warmly in rugs. Then, a few moments later, we were tearing across the open moor. She sat immovable by my side, staring straight before her, her face showing pale in the darkness. Then she nestled beside mo for warmth. Over that wide range of bleak, windswept hills we sped, uptil, deep below, we caught sight of distant lights bordering the s»a —the lights of Plymouth. “When will he be found?” she whispered to me, bending to my ear. "Not until morning, I hope,” was my reply. * “What can I do?” she asked, in despair. “Where can I go?” “Back to London. It is the only safe place.” was my low response. So noisy was the car that the driver could not overhear us. I knew that the moment tho discovery was made I should be placed in a position of gravest danger and suspicion. The man driving would certainly see reports of the discovery in the papers, and make some statement' to the police. If so, I should be traced at once, for unluckily, in hiring the car, X had, alas! given my name. In any case, a hue, and dry must be raised after both of us. I£oop would denounce his daughter, while the chauffeur would suspect myself. Was Ibrahim dead ? I had satisfied myself that tho brutal Arab no longer lived. It had been his life or mine, and had not Joan fired that shot 1 should have been lying by the roadside a corpse, instead of him! Koop, knowing that I was aware of his secret, was determined that my mouth should be closed . “Who suggested your visit to Hexworthy?” I asked the girl, presently. “My father.” “In order to conceal himself, X suppose? With me searching evesywhero, London had grown too uncomfortable for him.” , , , “Perhaps. I don t know, the reason,” she said, briefly. Her hand touched mine. Its contact thrilled me. Was I really in love with her? I wondered. “Was it to set a trap for me?” I suggested. “If your father know that your intention was to meet me, then he would remain craftily silent, and instruct Ibrahim to carry out his dastardly plans. Did he know?” I added, after a pause. Tho girl hesitated for a few seconds, as though in breathless wonder af a suggestion apparently quite now to her. “Ah!” she gasped, at last. “He may have done. He or Ibrahim may have watched mo go to your rooms and come forth again without seeing you. Ho would then suspect me of malting an appointment with you down hero. I never thought of that. Ah! By my own action, Mr. Colofax, you were led into' a trap. But—but it failed,” she added. “Thanks to you, Mies Joan, was my low response. “I, for the second

time, owe to you my deliverance from the hands of my enemies.” CHAPTER XI. PROBING THE MYSTERY. Arrived in Plymouth, my solo desire was to efface our ideutity. The shops wero, fortunately, still open. Therefore at the Royal Hotel I paid the driver and dismissed the car. The man appeared surprised, apparently expecting to drive us back to Totnes, some twenty-five miles distant. But 1 explained how, the lady being very fatigued, she intended staying in Plymouth that night. And when I slipped a couple of sovereigns into his hand as a tip, 1 said; “Remember, you will not recollect anything of this little escapade to-night —eh? A lady’s good name is at stake and I feel that you are a gentleman and will not compromise her. ’ “Of course not! I’ll give you ray word, sir,” was his reply. “This isn’t the first time I’ve driven a lady and gentleman out at night.” And he grinned ■ knowingly. “Right! Then I rely upon yout discretion,” I said, and wished him adieu. Perhaps I was foolish to have spoken thus, but I was at that moment already in dread of arrest.

With Joan 1 went forth from the hotel, and wo purchased thick travelling coats and hats, which an hour later wo assumed, having packed our own in a cheap trunk which I had sent to tho hotel. Our position was, I know, one of extreme peril and difficulty. Yet it was surely an unusual situation, 1 though, as I stood there in that room in tho hotel, watching her put on a large, hat and veil._ Yes, she was very smart and dainty. Her beauty entranced me. “Y’our appearance is certainly altered,” I declared, when, after assuming a thick drab coat, she was buttoning her glove preparatory to starting. Her lips relaxed into a smile when she surveyed herself , in the long mirror. “And you, too,” she declared. “In that hat'and coat you will surely never be recognised.” • Then, after a few finishing touches to our toilet, I rang for tho porter, and had the trunk taken down, to a cab outside. Twenty minutes later wo were on our way to London. (To be continued.!