THE SHUTTERED HOUSE.

Taranaki Herald, Volume LXVII, Issue 16448, 31 May 1919, Page 12

THE SHUTTERED HOUSE.

EXCITING STORY OP SENSATION AND LOVE.

By 'WBI'uLIAM GUIDOTT, Author of “Through the Silent Night,” “What Dciia Bared,” etc., etc.

CHAPTER XX—Continued. Tsoklo staggered, hack a,gainst the table and leant heavily on it. Her breath came and wont in short gasps. “Well, go on,” she almost screamed. '“Tell me what has happened. Ho found her, mid then—what did he say ?” Her voice ended in a high, mirthless laugh. “Say?” answered the woman sharply. “I don’t knorv what he said. I didn’t wait for irny polite conversation. I ran away.! ’ '

Isolde watched her with staring eyes. “ 1 wasn’t in tho house—l’d run out for a moment ”, “Yes, I. know, yon fooll You fool! I tried to warn you ; there was no one there to lanswer. Oh, 1 owe this to you!” fllie raised her arms with fists clenched, lowering with rage. “To nm!” Mrs. Blythe’s voice was sneering and threatening. “To me! And wha t do 1 owe to you—answer me that. Oh, he won’t catch me, my husband’:; there, drunk in tho kitchen—probably lie’s at the police station now where I’d be, only I’ve got-away and I’m going to disappear—-and where you’ll bo in a few minutes.” '*

“Bo quiet! Does lie, Robert, know you’ve name here?” “I don’t know, and I don’t care. I. came Lo warn you and I expect- something fur it, something big for riskingit.”

“I have no money hero, none,” snici Isolde firmly, and growing a little more culm as. the woman became more excited. “Also, I shouldn't give you any if I. had. You can’t help mo now —you aren’t any use.” She laughed aloud.

There was a knock nt the door. “Miss D’Avroi.lie. in two minutes, please.” “All right,” she called. “Now, go; get out of hero and rjuiekly. You can do nothing hy remaining.”

“Oh, can’t I?” Airs. Blythe burst into a Hood of invective. "It's prison for yov*, and after that the hangman. Do yotl; hear that, my girl. You killed him, and'he knows it. and you won’t get anj; mercy. You thought ho loved you. Hidn't you? There won't he much , love left when Jill Baton lias finished! tolling him about yon.” She spoke in low, coarse accents, leering into her r face. With a tremendous effort of will and strcnglJr Isolde pushed her aside. Mrs. Blythe reeled against the table, and nearly fell. “I. fim going on to sing now.” Isolde went 60 the door.

“I’Si pay yon for this—wait ” Tiie woman’s voice was lost as Isolde shut dlio door {ir.nly and went out into the a n-ridor. There she paused for fully a minute. With every nerve she. fiorced herself to he calm and to concentrate on the task before her. Her great and indomitable courage came to her ui'.d, and triumphed. She: opened her closed eyes, BernStein was beckoning to her from the other end. It was time for her to go on, to sing the groat air from “Tristan and Isolde.”

Tim song of love and death! Triumphiantly she swept on to tho platform. A hurricane of applause greeted bfr, putting all else but her arc out of him head. With folded hands and half-closed eyes she stood motionless vdiilo tho low chords began behind her.

Tine lovely music full softly from her bps. All the world of suffering, pain, and love lay in the wonderful, vibrating voice. Up and up surged tho mus/io, a sea of gorgeous melody, ebbing;'and Hotting in marvellous waves of sound, dying away to tho final long-, dni'.vn sigh of ccstacy of love and oblivion. •

0 nly the hurst of frantic applause tolil Isolde* that it was over, that‘she had sung and triumphed through all. Hlvery thing came back to her. She stood for a moment dazed and motionless;. Yes it was over—all was over. Hern stein standing at the side, wondccred why she did not bow. He smv k«r pass her band o.’or bar eyes, and then mechanically bend her head and wtvlk from the platform, and commended it as a clover piece of acting.

But it was real. ‘Once out- of sight of the audience the girl clutched the entrance and steadied herself before going on again and again to bow repeatedly. . Her face was white and sot, she could not . force herself to smile, She folt curiously sick and giddy. Would tkey never stop handing up those ghastly flowers? What were they all for? With dazed eyes she looked at them, a.nd laid her hand softly on a great basket of white lilies . Surely they woro funeral flowers? Why had they sent them to her? Her mind seemed to be giving away. ,Ah, yes—she had killed a man—that wns why—she remembered now—and she must get away—escape. Mechanical 1 ly she walked off the platform. The maddening applause beat on her fevered brain. She stood in the curtained entrance with her hands to her ejvs. “Jirnvo,” shouted Bernstein. “Go ot again*” Isolde looked np. Before her at the end of the corridor stood Mrs. Blythe. Someone was behind Iter, who was it? Mrs. Blythe was pointing. They were coming along the corridor now. She pressed her hand to her heaving breast. She must escape. She felt tho little phial she had taken from her dressing-case beneath the lace of her gown. Escape! That way lay escape—and fior ever. “Wait a. minute,” she laughed at Bernstein. Swift as lightning she grasped the little phial in her hands, and, as she passed him, put it to her lips. Oscar Bernstein jumped forward. “Don’t drink anything jit’s madness; you’ve got to sing again,” Surely the girl was not given to drugs? Tliis must bo stopped, he thought quickly. “Good-bye.” Isolde’s voice called rather weakly as site- went out into the sea of faces,, and struggled through the music stands towards the conductor. She clung on to the rails of his desk, swaying. A murmur began to rase above tho wild applause. Something was happening. Oscar Bernstein leant forward. He saw Isolde .dip gently down as if she had fainted'. Her hand caught at the flowers; and a mass of lilies and roses fell softly over her as she lay still in her shroud of gold. Isolde d’Avrooho was dead! 'Jill sat in tho car outside the gloomy, shuttered houses, while Robert talked a few moments with his man at the bottom of the steps. He looked back at her and nodded. “Shan’t he long, dear,” he called out.

Every moment away from her seemed hours of wasted timt>

Jill smiled happily aid lay deep in the warm rugs, dreaming a wonderland dream. She looked up at last to find him’standing at the gate watching her. “] thought you had forgotten me,” he said, toasingly. “I hope I’m not disturbing yon.” She laughed gaily hack. “What are we going to do now?” His hue sobered again. “I am leaving John hero. I don't quite know what to do about her—lsolde d’Avrocho, my cousin,” he added bitterly. Jill was silent. "It's difficult to know what to do for the best.” Robert went on. "There ..seems to he. no doubt that she ” waving his hand significantly towards the house. “But also I think wo’d bettor not do anything in a hurry.” lie waited a moment, tidnking over the problem, the .solution of which they were so soon to know. “Let’s drive hack to your old rooms and get your tilings. Perhaps yon can stay there. They may be empty.” “Yc.—yes; 1 should love it. 1 can get my things. Probably 1 can take the rooms on again.” Robert got into the cur. He looked nt her aS they were going slowly down the old familiar .street. “Of course, you won’t want them long,” lie said, pensively. Jill looked nt him. “Why,” she asked, innocently. Robert, did not answer. The ear slowed 1 up at the little house ho had so often called at lately in vain. But he did/not attempt to get out. “What aro you thinking of?” Jill asked at hist, laughing. For answer he slid bis arm round her shoulders. “1 was wondering how soon I could got a special license. It’s very stupid not to know, hut I’vc never got one before.” Thou he drew her closely to him. [The End.]