The Eventful Journey.

Thames Star, Volume LII, Issue 13970, 10 May 1919, Page 3

The Eventful Journey.

CHAPTER X. THE HIDDEN FOUNTS OP EVIL. By two o'clock the M«roury wa« shining above and below. Thoroughly weary, y«t well satiafi«d with the. day's record, Medenham want to bed. He wan up at s»ven, and meant to talk severely to Dale after breakfast; . then he found, by con-: suiting a directory, that' the small hotel where hia man had arranged to wtay did not possess a telephone, it was annoying, but h« had th« consolation of knowing that *i hour's slow run would bring, him to. Hreford and reunite hinn "with his sorely needed baggagi. •• He iras giving a >f©w finishing touches to the car's toilette, when th»< Welsh waiting-maid hurried to th« garage; Miss Vanrenen wanted him at onoe. She waited him on tha verandah of the hotel, which fronted the south-east. A shower ©f June roses, pink and crimson and wihafo, b»- ' spangled^the slopingi roof and hid the square posrf» that supported it, and a flood of vivid sunshine irradiated Sylvia as sihe leaned over the low rail of the balcony and smiled a greeting. She presented a "picture that was a triumph of unconscious art, .and. her beauty affecfed Medenham more than a deep draught of the strongest' wfne ever vinted by man. Yesterday she was a eharmdng girl, ■ radiantly goodlooking and likley to attract attention even in circles where pretty women were plentiful am WaeKbsrries in a September thicket, but today, in Medenham's eyes, she wa» a woodland sprite, an ethereal creature ca«t> in no mortal mould. So nethralled was he by the vision, that he failed to note her attire. She wore the muslin dress of the previous night, and this, in itself, might hare prepared himj for what was to com*. "Good morning," Mr. Fateroy/' she «aid, with "a yne attempt at reestablishing those friendly relations which might reasonably «rist between, the owner of a motor-oar and aita hirer. *How are you after i your strenuous labours of yesterday? I have heard all about you. Fancy remaining out of bed till two . o'clock! .Ooiuldn.'t- that • -*« -precious car of yours be cleaned this morning, and by someone «lac?" * He found his tongue at last. "Mercury obeys none but Jupiter," he said. Her eyes met his fairly, and she kughed. "That is the first conceifed thing I have heard you say," she cried, ;"and, by Jove, aren'.t you jyiing I "and, by Jove, , aren't you" flying high?" y "Jupiter assumed disguises^' he remanded her. "Once, when, te peered into an. Olympian grove, he saw 10, and took the form of a youth so that he might talk with her. He found her so lovaible that he passed many a pleasant hour :n her company wandering; on the banks of the classic stream; that flowed 1 ihrouigih the wood, and "in, those hours he was ,not a Jupiter, but a boy, a boy very much in love. Every man has, or ought to have, something of Jupiter, a good deal of the boy, in hisi make-up." He turned and looked at the Wye and* its tree-snaded' banks. Then he faced Sylvia again, and his hands rested on the barrier that , divided them.. For on© mad mr stan,t he thought of vaulting' it, and Sylvia, read his thought; she drew back in dismay. A wooer less infatuated 5 than iMeflenham might have netted that she seemed to idreiad dnterruptioni more ' than she feared any impulsive action on | his part. "I sent for you to tell you that Mrs. /Devar 5k ill," she said in a iburry of words* "I am> aifraid she suffered more front the fright than. I imiaglned last night. Anyhow, she has asked me to let her remain, here to-day. * You won't mind, I anil sure, though it must be a bother' not to have your luggage, i Can't you run in to Hereford and : get it? I am quite content to' rset in this pretty place and write letters." "I do honestly believe that Mrs. Devar is more frightened than ill," he said. "Oli, she isn't making a. <fuss about it. Indeed, she was willing to go to Hereford this afternooni if I particularly wanted to attend ser-' vice at the catfiedrni. I did, as a . matter of fact, but it would be real; meant to insist on it after scaring; the poor thing into a nervous head- - ache." • j "The afftir arranges itself adinir- j ably," he said. "At most cathed-} rals ibere is an anthem, ifollowed by [ a. sermon by some eminent preacher, t about 3' o'clock'. Write your let- j ters this nwrn'ing,, or, better still, j t]ymb to the top of .the Vat amid! see! the srlorious view from the summit. Com© back for lunch at one, and —■" "Pll see what Mrs. Devar thinks oi it," broke in Sylvia, whose were borrowing tints from> the red^ roses and the white with astonish- ; ing fluctuations of colour. She ran ( <^ff, more like 10, the sylph, than, i

(It iOUIS TRACY)

ever, andMedenham! stood there in , brown study. : , "This sort of thing can't go on,"\ hi argued with^himseilf./'Ati any , minute now I shall be taking her in my arms and kissing her, and that mil not be fair to Sylvia, who is proud and queenly, and who will strive against the dictates of hjSr own heart because it is not seemly that she should wed her father's paid servant. So I must tell her to-day—perhaps during the run home HBrom! Hereford, perhaps tonight. , But, dash it all! that will' break up our tour. One ought to consider th© world! we live in; Sylvia will be on© oJ its leaders, and; it will never do to have people saying, tharti Viepount Medenfoai% became engaged* -to*: Sylvia,. Tanjr3n«n> while acting as the lady's chauffeur "during * thousand-mile run through -the* West of England. Nowj what anr I to dot" The answer came from a bedroom window that overlooked the verandah. "Mr. Fitzroy!" He knew as he looked up that Sylvia dared not face him again for her voice was too exquisitely subtle in its modajlataons not to betray ite idisappoinitmenfc before she uttered another word. "I am very sorry," sihe said rapidly, "but I feel 1 ought not to leave Mrs. Devar until she is better, w> I mean to remain indoorsi all day. I Bhall not require the car before nine o'clock* to-morrow. If you; like tos visit Hereford, go at any time that suits your convenience." .She seemed to regret tihe curtness of her speech, though indeed' she was raging inwardly because of certain barbed shafts planted in her breast by Mrs. Devar'a faint proteats, and tried to mitigate the blow she had inflicted by adding^ with a valiant smile t ; . "For this occasion only, Jupiter must content himself with iMercut/ as a companion." "If I had) Jove's power— ►—" he began wrathf ully. ' "If you were Sylvia Vanrenen you would do exactly what she is doiag." .3 { It is not to Ec denied that he extracted some, cold comfort from that last cryptic remark. Sylvia wanted to come, but Mrs. Devar had evidently burked the excursion. Why? ■ Because Sylvia's escort would be Viscount Medemham and not Arthur Simmonds, orthodox and wiijghiLy respecitaible chauffeur,. But Mrs. Devar plainly declared herself on the side of Viscount Medenhaim last night. Why, then, did she stop a short journey by motor, with the laudable objective of hearing an anthem and a sermon im a ca;thedmal, when overnight sihe permitted the far less defensible trip on Mfoe river with the hated Fitzroy? It meeded no great penetration to solve this puzzle. Mrs. Devar was afraid of some development that might happen if the girl visited Hereford that day. &he counted on Medeniham being chained, to Symon's Vat while Sylvia was there, consequently she had heard something from Dale that rendered) it eminently necessary that neither he ,nor Sylvia should be seen in Hereford on the Sunday. Probably, too, ■ she did not anticipate that Sylvia would don the hair-cloth o? " selir discipline and avoid (him during the whole of the Say, since that was i what the girl m.cant by her illusion 1 to Monday's starting-time. Perhaps, using! a woman's privilege, she might change her mind towards sunset; meanwhile, it behoved him to visit Hereford and pry into things there. Nevertheless, he was a wise lover. Sylvia might dismiss him graciously to follow his own behests, bu* T6 might not please her if she discovered that he had taken her permission too literally. He entered the hotel and wrote a letter: | "My Dear 'Miss Vanrenen" (no pretence of "Madam" or other j social formula, but a plain and | large "My dear," with the name ; ulppended as- a concession to the i hiimbug) of life, even in regard to. the [woman* he loved);—"I ami going to Hereford, but shall return here for luncheon. Mrs. Devar's illness is not' likely to be lasting, and the view from) the Ya>t is>, .if possible, better in tihe afternoon i than, in the morning. la addition to my obvious need' of a clean, collar j I believe that our presence in Hereford to-day is not desired. Why? i I shall make it my business to 1 find out.—'Yours ever sincerely—■" j j. Then' he reached a high and stout j stone wall of difficulty. Was he to j fall back on the subterfuge of I "George Augustus Fitzroy," which, '< [of course, was his proper signature !in law? He disliked this veil of j concealment more and more each inj stant, but it was manifestly out of ' the question that he should sign himself "Medenham," or "George," while he had fought several pitched battles' at Harrow with classmates, who pined to libel him "Augustus," , abbreviated. So, greatly daring, he wrote: "Mercury's Cruv'nor," ( trusting to luck whether or noT , Sylvia's classical lore would remind

her that Mercury was the son of Jupiter. . He re-read this effusioa twice, and was satisfied with it as the herald of others. "My dear" sounded well; the intimacy of "our presence" was not overdone; while "your ever sincerely" was «xcellent. He wondered if' Sylvia would analyse it word ,fior word i;n tihait fashion. Well, some day he might >ask her.. For the present he sealed the letter with a sigh and gave it to a waiter for safe delivery; 'he fancied, but could not) be quite sure, that a good deal of unnecessary play with the motor's ■Gju-briiled horn five minutes- later brought a slender, muslined figure to.ai window of the then distant hotel. From Symon's Vat to Hereford is about fifteen miles, and Medenham drew out of the narrow lane leading fromi the river to Whitchurch about a quarter, past nine. Thenceforth, a straight and good road lay clear before him^ and he meant to break

the law as to speed limit by travelling at the fastest rate compatible- ■ ■with his. own safety and! that of other road,;Ußers. It was no disgrace to She : Mercury, therefore, '■■when a dull report and a sudden effort of the steering-wheel to swerve to the right betokened the collapse .of an, inner tube on the off-side. .From the motorist's point of view it was '.difficult .to understand the cause of tihe mishap. The whole four tyres were -new so recently ?»« the previous Monday, and Medenham was far too deeply absorbed! 'n his owm -affairs to grasp the essential fact that Fa.te was still taking an. intelligent interest in him. Of course, he did not hurry over the work as though his life depended on it. Even when the cover was replaced and the tyre pumped to the proper degree of air-pressure, he Mt & cigarette and had a look at the magneto before restarting the fengiine. Two small 'boys had appeared from space, 'and he amused himself by asking them to reckon how long it would take two men to mow a-fieldi of grass which! one man

aouid mow mi three days and the other dn four. He promised a reward'of sixpence if the correct answer wereforthcoming in a. minute, and raised, it to a. shilling during the next minute. This stimulated tjhedirl •witß to suggest "a, day amd three-quarters" instead of the .first frantic effort of "three days and a-h-alf." , "No," said He. "Think; it over, ponder it ■with ardour, amd df you Jhare the rigKt 'answer ready when I pass this way again ta/bout mid--1 day!l'll give youi a shilling each." There is no saying what sum ihe would have given those urchins if some magician had spoken by their mouths arid 1 bade v- him hasten to Hereford with- all the zest of all the horses pent beneath the Mercury's bonnet. But he left the boys cyphering on a gate* with a bit o!f pencil which 'he lent them, and pulled' up at the door of the Green, Dragon, Hotel in 'Hereford! just five •minutes after the Sunday morning express to London; had snatched a fuming and indignant Earl of Fairholme from off 'the platform of the Great "Western, railway station. ''Whose oajvt" (inquired » hall porter. '■"Mine," said Medenham', rather surprised by the question. "Sorry, sir. I thought you might be the party Lord Fairholme was expecting. ; ""Did you say 'Lord Fairholme'?" Medenham spoke with, the slow accents of sheer astonishment, and the man hastened to explain. "Yea, sir. His lordship has been a-damnin' everybody since two o'clock yesterday afternoon, because a Miss Vanreneni who had ordered rooms here, didn't turn; up. She's on a motor tour through England, bo I though!—■—" . "You have mad© no mistake. But are you quite sure that the Earl of Fairholme asked for her? 1' "Not exactly that, sir, but he> seemed to be uncommonl vexed when we could! give him no .new« of her." "Where is his lordship now?' "Gone to London, sir, by the 10.5. He damned me for the last time half an hour ago." ! "Oh, did he?" Medenham glanced at his watch, twisfbed hiim.self free of the v wheel, leaped to the pavement, and tapped one of the hall-porter's gold epaulets impressively. "I ani forced to believe that you are speaking the truth," he said. "Now, tell me all about it, there's a good fellow. I am a. bit rattled because, don't you see, Lord Faiirholme is my father, and he is the last mant on earth whom I would have expected to meet in Hereford to-day. During the less exciting intervals in his speech did you find out why he came here 1?" ! fTo be continued.)