THE GREEN SHADE

Star (Christchurch), Issue 16922, 22 December 1922, Page 3

THE GREEN SHADE

NEW SERIAL.

By HE AIK)N HI EL Author of “ Millions of Mischief,” Guile,” etc., etc. CH A PTER II Continued. “Godfrey,” said Airs iSxiype, “you are not yourseir. Something untowar.* has occurred to upset- von, and. 1 am j wiilingio to make every allowance, t ; shuil go to l>ed, and 1 hope that you will have recovered your temper by tho 1 tune you come up yourself.” “ -My temper won t make any difference to you one way or the other,” the Rector flung back angrily. “ I shall sleep in the dressing-room or in a spar© room. You are fiurly on rny nerves, -those pork chops were the limit.” The lady of the Rectory burst into tears and vanished, sobbing incoherent hopes that her dear Godfrey would bo better in the morning. In which she was doomed to disappointment, for at breakfast the Rector who* true to his word, had occupied ueeparate bedroom, preserved an obstin. ate silence. To such an extent did he carry his aloofness that be would have omitted to {read “ family prayers ” had not. the outraged parlourmaid thrust the bock’ under his nose. As »t was, the well meant reminder partiv failed in. its purpose, for he read the portion to which his small audience had listened on the previous day. Mrs Snype. now fairly on her dignity, made one effort at propitiation with /> reference to the fineness of the weather and then abandoned the obviously futile task, accepting tlie position and re lapsing into tlie attitude of passive ho 9 tilitv which was to prevail at Fancourt Magna .Rectory during the eventful days to come. One thing the brave stricken woman was decided on—for tho good of the parish, unless it wer* forced on her, there should be no open quarrel. The U tor’s moodiness did not pre rent him from doing lull justice to lu.> breakfast. When lie was through with it he. stalked across the hall to his study and spent some time in trying his bunch of keys on. the draws in his writing table, opening and shutting them in turn, but not touching or removing the contents. Then, taking pen and paper, he sat down and carefully wrote three wordu—the same words—over and over again. He was still so- engaged when the parlourmaid knocked aud entered. She was a demure. and rather shy girl, but this time her demureness and shyness were vanquished by glowing excitement. “ Air Hugh Fancourt to 6©e you, sir,” she announced. “Aud oh, sir! He lias got Maud Bates with him.” The agitated statement seemed to leave the Rector cold “ Indeed!” he saiyi, And who, prav, is Maud Bates?” “ Miss Beryl Fancourt’s maid, sir.' “ Well. I supiiose I must see them,* the Rector conceded. “Show them in, if you please.” Hugh Fancourt swaggered into tli -» study, accompanied by a girl whom ». was doubtful iT the country families would accept at her own valuation. She was undeniably pretty, but some of the prettiness had been laid on witn powder-puff and paint-brush Her chief attraction lay in her figure, which owed nothing to Art. Her costume was a coat and skirt of blue serge, obviously now. and her hat was not too conspicuous. Here we are, Mr Snype,” blustered the young man. “Punctual to ;t tick, as per our arrangement of yesterday. Tie us up as quick as you can, and there’s a good old chappie, or we'll have the guvnor blithering alter

Midi which Mr Hugh Fancourt pre rented the special licence for the secon 1 time to the clergyman he had selected to marry him

The Hector, who bv now had mastered a momentary surprise and rot a. grip o( what was demanded of him, gkneeri from cue r a . the other of his young clients and refreshed his memory hv perusing the document signed by the unseen but formidable “ <.'antaur.” !■ m the fraction of a second lie again raised “is eyes to tin* impudently expectant iu.c oi the britle. ihon, very slowly and deliberately, lie folded up the li fence and handed it back to the aston tshed bridegroom. "Sorry, Air Fancourt,” lie said, but I cannot do it. Take it to one of my brother incumbents in a neighbour irifr parish. .\o doubt one of thorn will oblige you ” But. my good sir.’’ protested Hugh. ‘in this room yesterday you consented to do the trick and made the appointment.” “ 1 cannot help that,” replied Mr Snype firmly. " 1 have reconsidered the matter and I definitely decline to act on this licence.’’ As he spoke the .Rector rose anti confronted the’ pair, his attitude almost v.uggesting that ho expected an assault And lor u low tense seconds it seemed that the disappointed heir of Fancourt Mali contemplated violence, so fiercely did .he stare into the clergyman's reso lute eye.-. But the critical moment passed. The weak chin and the sloping low Niad of the baronet’s son were not the .Natures of a fighter. “ .1 can’t make you out at all, M.v Snype.” ho bleated feebly. " There’s something \tTong about you—some motive that T shall make it my business to fathom. We will go and hunt up some other devil dodger who hadn’t got a beastly axe of his own to grind ” Rut Miss Maud Bates was not so easily handled. In fact she made quite a scene, expressing the opinion that the whole thing was.; what she called a put-up job and that Hugh bad never intended to marry’ her. At any rate

eh© did not mean to bo trundled about over half the country, looking for another parson who, a« like as not, wouli turn them down again.

The Rector had started to conduct his visitors to the front- door, but seeing hi s parlourmaid flitting about in the ball he handed them over to her aud. returned to the study, stopping his ears against the flood of forceful language. From his window he watched the pair walk away down the drive, guessing from the lady’s gestures that she was giving the gentleman a piece of her mind. “ I wonder how they’ll settle it,' Mr Snype mused aloud. “ I hate to ftpoil sport, hut I don’t sec what- else I could have done. If the girl isn't an utter fool she will curb her temper and drag Master Hugh before one of my reverend colleagues before an hour is pastV don’t like the way he looked at me.” This little professional interlude did not; affect the new domestic regime inaugurated on the Rector’s return from London the previous night. At luncheon in siletace lie confronted Mrs Snype. and in silence Mrs Snype confronted him. while tho shy and demure parlourmaid waited on them in a perfect glow of inquisitive interest. Life at Fancourt Magna Rectory had never been wildly exhilarating, but now things were beginning to hum. first the breach between tlie master and the missifl. and now, this morning, the coming and going ol Mr Hugh “ along of that ’ussey Maud Bates.” The parlourmaid was a reader of Sunday newspapers and of stale fiction from the milage library. She felt that she had been pitchforked into an atmosphere blended of “The Silent Wife,” then running in a weekly journal, and of “ The Silence of Dean Maitland,” a novel dealing with the peccadillo of a parson who eventually denounces himself from the pulpit. She decided to pay particular attention to Mr Snype’s sermon next Sunday. After lunch the Rector left the house and encountered Solomon Burbidge weeding the drive, informed that worthy that he was going :>n a round of visits among outlying cottages. He did not. return till six o’clock, when, going straight to his study, he rang for tea to be brought to him there. Fanny Green, so was the parlourmaid called, 1 ad set the tray down and was leaving the room when the front-door bell pealed . It was an old-fashioned clapper bell, operated by a chain, and the noi&u of it rang through the house. “ Are you at home if it is anyone for you, sir?” Fanny asked. “ If it is anybody but those two quarrelsome idiots who called this morning,” the Rector replied grimly. The maid retired, to reappear immediately ushering in a uniformed police sergeant and a heavily-built, red-faced man in baggy knickerbockers. “ Sir Jasper Fancourt and Sergeant Wolfram, sir,” she announced in a frightened tremolo. Tlie Rector deliberately finished the draught of tea he was taking, replaced his cup and saucer on the tray and rose with outstretched hand. Sir Jasper ignored it and cleared his throat aggressively. “ Look here, Snype.” he began in a hoarse bellow like the challenge of an angry bull. “ my son came to see you this morning. He was seen entering your gates. What did he want?” “ I am not sure that I ought to tell you, vSir Jasper,” the clergyman’s smile was conciliatory, “ 1 can say this much, | However —;t refused t>o do what Mr j Hugh required of me.” “ You can thank your lucky stars you did,” thundered the baronet. “He i wanted you to marry him to the blowsy wench who waits on my daughter?” The policeman stepped forward to oil ilie troubled waters aud, incidentally, to assert his official importance. “ You can speak quite freely, sir.” he said suavely. u You can’t do the young gentleman any harm. If you won’t tell us now you will have to when you give your evidence at the inquest.” “Inquest?” faltered the Rector. “ What on earth do you mean?” Sir Jasper Fancourt was not the man tn play second fiddle. Snatching the answer from the sergeant’s lips, lie delivered it himself. “ What we mean is that my son Hugh was found murdered in the park an hour ago." he said in a quieter tone than lie had hitherto used. * Wolfram nd I are picking up the ‘■vent while it’s still warm, till better brains conic to cur aid.” (To be Continued.)