CHAPTER XXXVI.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 6901, 15 September 1900, Page 1

CHAPTER XXXVI.

CAUGHT RED-HANDED. All the family seemed to feel a sense of relief at Month's departure, and declared they would retire early, after many late nights of entertaining. Cristina heard John ! Morrow and Albert go to .their rooms shortly after half-past ten, while she was seated in a loose silk dressing-gown over a huge fire, with her wealth of golden hair rippling I over the back of a comfortable lounge chair. Her feet, encased in cosy bedroom slippers, rested on the fender ; she was reading a yel-low-backed novel. Somehow the desire to sleep had fled of jate, but, a delicious drowsiness crepf; over her while she remained in her chair, following the adventures of a famous author's puppets. At last her eyes gre;r heavy ; but she dared not move for fear of ' chasing away the precious sleep, which her reading I wooed. Darkness crept across her vision, the book fell upon her lap, and Cristina dropped into dreamless slumber. How long she lay before the flickering nre 4,0 never knew, for suddenly she sprang up with a start, convinced that something had wakened her. She listened, trembling! surprised at her sudden nervousness. \ " I am sure I heard a sound, or could I have been dreaming ?" She strained her eyes, holding her breath Ah, yes, ' it came again—a rattling on her window. She recognised it now In her sleep it had seemed like rain ; but her waking senses told her a shower of gravel must have been thrown up from the garden p3»t/11. With soft footsteps she crept across the room, and drew back the blind, her curiosity thoroughly aroused. Peering through the darkness she fancied she discerned the figure of a man. Without a second's further hesitation she pushed open the window, and asked in a low firm voice, "Who is there? What do you want?" The keen night air pierced her to the skin ; she shivered, with a presentiment of evil. "I want John Morrow. I have come to him on private and important business. 'Can I trust you/ who ever you are, to rouse ihim secretly and without alarming the house?" "I am Cristina Leach. Are you anyone I know?" " Yes. Fortune must have guided me to your window, though the news I bring is of the worst. lam one of the followers of him we once named among ourselves ' The Undiscovered.'" "He — he is not discovered yet — ?" she gasped, guessing from the voice that this name sounded incongruous. " John Morrow is safe — so far, I believe. But the others — God help them!" The dark figure below threw up his hands. Cristina» now recognised the familiar tone. "You are Tim," she said. He nodded assent. "I have a rope under my bed, which I keep in case of fire. If I fasten it securely and throw the end down to you do you think you could swarm up, and .come in through my window. Then I would fetch John Morrow, and nobody should ever know." "Good! Get the rope." Cristina obeyed with all speed. She forget the cold, for the exciting anxiety of the moment put everything out of her mind. The wind was scattering a dozen unframed photographs from her mantelpiece on the white hearthrug, and making the flames dance, while it .stirred the long hair which hung about her shoulders. Cristina knew well how to knot a rope in fire brigade fashion./ She tied it round "the leg of her bedstead, remembering how she had scrambled out unaided on the night When Cutcliffe caught her. Then running back to the window she threw it down to the figure below, whom she called "Tim." He swarmed up like a sailor, reached the sill, amd hopped in, standing before Cristina with eyes starting out of his head, and a face. ashen with fear, drawn from fastings and haggard by the torturing news he bore. "Quick! Fetch Morrow," he gasped, sinking on the sofa from sheer exhaustion. " I have had the greatest difficulty to reach here before daylight, to receive my orders from him." Cristina did not wait to light a candle. She knew 'tie corridors well, and was anxious no one should see her, as ' she ran in trepidation to Mr Morrow's room. She

turned the door handle gently, but it was bolted. " Father," she said, under Her breath, her lips olose to the key -hole. "Father," tapping as she spoke, " come out. I want you." John Morrow was a light sleeper, and low as she spoke, her voice instantly aroused ihim. He sprang up, turned on the electric light, shrugged his portly frame into a long mustard-coloured dressing-gown, and hurried to the doori ] "What is it?" he queried sharply. " House on fire? Or have you been walking in your sleep?" His first glance at Cristina showed him such a scared face that he pictured her wandering abroad a la Lady Macbeth, and suspected she had awakened at that moment to find herself at his door. " Tim is here— in my room. He clambered up, and got through the windtow ; Hie brings us bad news." ' Tim?" gasped Mr Morrow, "impossible! You must be dreaming! He was going to Plymouth to meet the c Purple Heather,' with a letter from me to Jaker — a most important and private communication. Tim in your room? I'll not believe you." John Morrow was hurrying along the passage, followed by Cristina, as he made this angry protest. " Hush ! For mercy's sake don't rouse the house," ehe whispered, cautiously. Mr Morrow ' smothered the rest of his astonished expostulation, and broke into a run. He had forgotten his shoes, and his bare feet made no sound on the thick pile carpet. He entered Cristina's apartment breathlessly, and staggered back as the weary, mud-bespattered Tim advanced. " Close the door ; lock it!" he said to Mrs^ Leach. She obeyed quickly/ "Now," began Mr Morrow, in a hoarse tone, "what have you come to say?" Tim's forehead w«is puckered with frowns. He turned; fiercely on John Morrow. " Who have you been letting into secrets?" he asked. "To whom were you mad enough to confide our business?" " Take care, young man, what you are saying, cr you may repent this false insinuation. Is John Morrow one to talk? But come, you have not yet told me what lias been discovered." " The ' Purple Heather,' " answered Tim, in hot wrath. "No one but you, and perhaps Mrs Leach, knew of Jaker's plans. I was to meet the yacht at Plymouth, but no sooner had she com© into harbour than the police boarded her with, a wan-ant of arrest amd an order to search. The moment they s«t foot on deck down they went into the saloon, and made straight for the sofa where the jewels lay They tore the padding to pieces, their efforts being rewarded by discovering all the Duchess of Easterland's gems at one stroke. Jaker and the rest of the fellows are in custody, and it will go hard with them, for they have been caught red-handed. "Fortunately for myself, I kept in the background, meaning to join Jaker some hours liaiter, to receive instructions and deliver your letter. I had told mo one that I was acquainted with the owner of the ' Purple Heather,' and as tQie news spread like wild-fire instantly, I made good my escape. I reached) a small town some thirty miles from here, and found it impossible to get on by rail. I procured a bicycle, and never stopped once until if reached '", your gates. Then I found the house shut up and the lights out. I managed to arouse Mrs Leach, and here I am, well-nigh dead. No one but you could have spread suspicion — some rash word. Some- spy in the camp who drew from you the imformatLbn, proceeded to put the police on Jaker's track." " I swear I have told no one, yet proof ! after proof reveals itself to proclaim that all our doings are known, by amother," gasped John Morrow, with a deep groan, as he buried his faoe in his hands, muttering an unrepeatable execration. " This is the last j straw. I am ruined I—for1 — for my share in the profits of Messrs Jaker and Co. was vital to me. To think I might have been on the yacht and seized by the grip of the law — or you, Tim. We have been saved by the skin of our teeth. My letter to Jaker — you have that safely? Quick, tell me — it is now in your possession." John Morrow grasped the youth's arm in a sudden frenzy of fear. Tim put his hand in his breast pocket and drew out a sealed envelope. " If I had been caught and searched, governed", they'd have been down on you in half a jiffy," he said, holding out the precious document. Morrow grasped it eagerly ; he could not speak for a moment after that awful interval of suspense. He could feel in fancy the cold irons on bis wrists, and the mere idea filled him with terror.. He opened the letter, to see that it was indeed the very same which he had penned to the ill-fated Jaker, then crushing it in his thick red fingers, he knelt down on the white rug, committing it to a bed of burning flame. Cristina watched the paper writhe and curl with bloodshot eyes. She stood between the two men consumed by horror. As yet she had made no comment on Tim's disastrous irevela'tion. Once she had opened her mouth, but closed it again, and jvatched in silence the careworn faces of the conspirators. Tim remarked her pallor, and seeing he was young and she was beautiful, forgot his own fatigue. "Mrs Leach, you are tired and upset. Won't you let me bring you a chair?" He suited the action to the word, and forced her to sit down. She smiled faintly at this chivalry. " Thanks !" Her voice shook and sounded far away. Then she looked up suddenly at her reputed father, and the thought nearest her heart broke out. "John Morrow," she said, "they will be imprisoned. Captive! Think of it. Only picture what that means to men of quick blood and keen intelligence! Torture indescribable! D«ath in life! Bondage, shame, failure ! And we — we might corns to this at any hour — at any moment. Here it is brouelvt before us ; we are face to face with the daily peril, which from custom we have grown to despise." She rocked herself to and fro, as if some physical pain were tearing at her body. The words, spoken with natural dramatic force, affected Tim strangely. He shivered, andl something like a lump rose in his throat. "I shan't go back no more to this kind of profession," he acknowledged, somewhat shyly, "I have had a scare at Plymouth I shan't never forget, and ifc has 'regularly choked me off. I've worked hard for Ja;ker this many. a year, and I give them their due, they've paid me well, and made it worth my while. So now if I can get clear of the country without being dragged into court, I mean to try and live respectable." "Cristina, this man is hungary, and wawts something to stop his mouth. Can't you get him some food? It is not interesting to us, these good resolutions of reform, or how he intends to spend his future." .John Morrow growled out the uncomplimentary words, and glared alarmingly. Tim reddened beneath his sarcasm, and shuffled towards the window. "I won't trouble you for anything this time of night," he said. " I've got to take my bicycle back— another thirty miles. So there is no time to lose." " Nonsense, Tim," said Cristina, with an imperative wave -of 'her hand, " I'll not have you g>o like this. You've served us well, and whatever happens we shall always remember you as fo-ustworthy — even in a dishonest cause. I will rouse Cutcliffe, and

he wall Gee to your wants without disturbing anyone." Tim came slowly back to the fire, where John Morrow was still muttering to himself. Cristina. glided to the door, closing it soltly behind her. (To be concluded next week.)