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Star (Christchurch), Issue 5698, 17 October 1896, Page 2

he -watched the thin keen face of the money-lender with mingled hesitancy and fear. " Do you mean to do honestly by her ?" he cried out. "It's no triek — you swear it?" "It's no trick," repeated the moneylender. " Oh, you don't mean to send us both to prison?" The man trembled, and the veins worked on his forehead. " For God's sake spare her ! I'd ml her suffer the im» | prisonmeut ten times than sne " " Write," Stevens interrupted impatiently. "Tli ere are pens and paper — Bend her a note." Somere, dazed and bewildered, obeyed like one in a dream. He wrote hurriedly, and when he had finished Stevens took it and strode over to the window. He threw it open, and leaning out into the night air whistled softly. - The man behind him shivered as a gruff voice answered immediately, and the next moment the note dropped to the pavement below. When he turned round again Somers was pacing tip and down the room. " My dear sir," said the money-lender, " sit down ami calm yourself. Take a newspa,per. No ? Then if I were you I'd put out the lantern ; waste of oil with the candle here too."

Chapter IV. When the girl entered the room she looked, pale and upset, and she glanced from one to the other with increasing bewilderment and fear. Stevens watched her with a sinister leer upon his face as ?he went towards her father and put her hand upon his shoulder. He sat with bent head, staring at the dusty floor, and waiting with sickening fear for the proposal Stevens was about to make. That it would be some devilish scheme he felt certain. What it would be, how it would end, and whether the girl — his daughter — would have to bo sacrificed too, he did not dare to'think. The' doubt was hoiTible, and he put up his hand and clasped hers convulsively. " Father, what is it ? " said the girl. •:?' What has happened ?" She put her hand on his head and tried to raise it. " Oh, uiy poor father !" she eried — "poor, poor father !" Stevens chuckled to himself, and watched them keenly — the girl with hair the colour of his gold and the face of a saint (bah ! how deceitful faces can be !), and the father Avhose manly beai-ing and gentlemanly appearance had almost disarmed his suspicion at first — and he grinned as he remembered the trap they were in and the means of exit. He cleared his throat harshly, and the girl started at the sound and turned towards him. Her eyes looked fearlessly into his, almost defiantly. They were a deep clear blue, and Stevens rubbed his hands warmly together and drew a long breath. He felt almost inclined to pat her on the cheek. He wanted to order her to put up her red lips to hi?, to fold her white arms about his neck. Ah ! he wondered how she would take it — she, the daughter of a criminal, with the face of an angel ! He got up and put his hand iipon her shoulder. She shuddered and recoiled, ni^d a dark look sprang into his face in answer to the repulsion in hers. His lips parted over his yellow teeth and he gave a short fiendish laugh. " Ah, ah !" he sneered, " Didn't like it, eh? Well, well, but beggars can't be choosers, my girl." " Father, what does this mean ?" she went on. "Why did the policeman fetch me here ? I don't understand." Her father rose and put his hand on her arms, as if he would remove her from contact with the old man. She turned round. " You," she exclaimed to Stevens. " Explain yourself. What do you mean ? Or, no, let us go— let us get out of your sight." " Wait," said Stevens, " wait a moment. Ton are in too great a hurry ; and I have something to say to you." He fixed his glittering eyes upon her and went on with a leer: " Your worthy father there has, as you no doubt observe, overreached himself. I have policemen waiting for him below, and every preparati n made for placing him in the cells tonight." The girl gave a frightened look towards him and her face paled. " Surprif es you, eh ? " said the moneylender. "Well, it didn't surprise me. I was quite aware" — turning to Somers — "that the South American shares were forgeries — quite aware. Th ere was a slight mistake in them which did not escape me, and my agent afterwards soon found out who you were. The police will be very glad to take care of you, and very grateful to me, no doubt." "Have done with this!" Somers cried hoarsely. " The game's up. 1 know it's no use resisting. Call in the police and let me go." " Wait, wait," said Stevens. " There's no hurry, you know ; and, as I remarked before, I have a proposal to make." " Now," he added, turning to the girl, "it rests entirely upon you whether your father goes to the cells to-night or whether he returns home a free man ; with you, I tell you, it depends upon you." A bright eager flush rose to the girl's cheek. " Free !" she cried. " Do you mean " "I mean," said the money-lender, "that on one condition I will set your father free; I will overlook this affair entirely, and give the police the slip." "And— and the condition?" said the father hoarsely. SteveDs glancod up into the girl's face. She was looking at him anxiously, eagerly, with a light in her eyes and a flush upon her cheek. He twisted his fingers together and sidled nearer to her. "The condition," he repeated, "is this. I am rich; I am worth thousands (how many I scarcely know), and I want a wife, and a son to inherit my money and to fill my shoes when lam gone. Give me your daughter " — turning suddenly to Somers — " give me your daughter as my wife." The girl gave a hoarse cry, a,nd the father sprang to his feet. "No, no, 110 !" lie cried vehemently. " Ten thousand times no ! Give my daughter to you ! I'd rather' be dead than see her your wife ! No, no, my child. I tell you, you may do with me what you will. It will mean five years ; but rather that than see her, my child, married to you ! " The money-lender stood collected, and cool, but with an angry gleam in his eyes. " Think," he said. " Don't speak hastily ; think what it will mean. You give your daughter to me ; I will provide for her. She shall have money; I have plenty. Think what my proposal means, and think if you refuse." The man shuddered and looked at his daughter. "Jessie," he cried, "look at me, turn your face. Tell me, what will you do ? If you refuse this— this proposal, you will go to prison, child." " Yes, I know," said the girl promptly ; and Somers turned. "Call the police," he said to Stevens; "we are ready." He moved towards the door, and the girl followed silently. "Then we may consider the interview at an end," he said coolly. He took up the caudle and held it above his head to throw the IMit on the dinoy stairs. It flickered fitfully and threw strange dancing shadows into the corners as they went slowly down. The girl was sobbing now and clinging to her father, and it made a wretched, dismal sound in the empty house. Opposite the street door the moneylender stopped and looked again at the girl. The gleam of the candle fell on her golden hair, and he stretched out his hand to touch it. " They will cut all this off," he said in a low thin voice—" cut it off close." A shining lock uncoiled itself and fell loosely into his hand, and the girl, witli a ciy, started back and shrank from him. The dai*k blood crept up sullenly into Stevens's yellow face, and he abruptly flung open the door. Two dark figures were standing on the ,

step. They entered the house and threw the light of a lantern on the three faces in tbo passage. Then there was the sound of Stp.vens's harsh voice and a gruff reply, tho -;liuk of handcuffs, the short, gasp of a girl as the cold iron rubbed her nesh, and a moment afterwards the noise of a closing door echoed through the empty street.