SOLITUDE LTD.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 18939, 9 December 1929, Page 16

SOLITUDE LTD.

" STAR’S ” NEW SERIAL.

BY

JOHN HASLETTE VAHEY

Author of “ Fiddlestrings,” “ Down River,” “ The Storm Lady,” “ Up North, “ Payment Down,” etc.

CHAPTER XVI. i THE RING IN THE ROCK. “Driscoll! Where are yez at all?”, The cry, coming in the still night to I the butler’s ears, made him sit up and stare. It was Moira’s voice, but it j sounded so near that, for the moment., j he almost believed the girl, was in the garden, perhaps within twenty yards of the spot where he crouched on the cliff. It made him set down the jagged stone he held in his hand and turn towards the landward side. Miss Farrar had asked to see her butler, and had told the servant to bring him. Moira had hunted high and low and, suddenly discovering that Driscoll’s cap and coat were missing from the back hall, had gone out into the garden to look for him. Had he known that she was there, he might have done the job with the rope and gone in. But he reflected that she might be in one of the upper rooms, calling from an open window, and in that case she could not fail to see him on the exposed cliff. The moonlight assured that. “ Bad scran to the. yowling brat! ” he growled, put his stone down on the turf, and quickly* crawled back to the protection of the rockery*. This he skirted rapidly, until he was at the farther side of the garden, and was able to make a hurried dash across to the door. He was no sooner on the threshold than he turned and raised his voice. “ Hould ver whisht, woman! D’ye want to raise the neighbourhood?” Moira traced the direction of the voice and returned hastily*. “ Where were yez at all ? ” she demanded. “Sure, the mistress is wanting y*ez, and me not able to find hilt nor hair of yez.” Driscoll took her arm. “ Is a man never to have a -wee walk without ye squallin’ afther him? Whisht now! I’m just taking off me cap and coat, and I’ll go in then.” Moira shook her arm free. “ Squalling, is it? And you with a voice like an axle short of graise. Hurry now!” Driscoll went in, hung up his coat and cap, and cursed Moira and his mistress savagely to himself. Between them they* had spoiled a good chance of getting rid of the interfering Englishman. Had they given him another minute, he could have damaged the rope so seriously that the weight of the' man below would have parted the broken strands. His anger was still greater when he saw Miss Farrar, and heard that it was onlj* a question of ordering some wine that Dr Stuart liked. But Tony Chant had been ever more alarmed than the butler by Moira’s cry. If the girl had to search for Driscoll outside, it was possible that Driscoll had detected him and come out to see what he was up to. With Driscoll, the unknown quantity, above, and himself hanging over space on a rope, Tony* had a creepy sensation that was distinctly unpleasant. He could not be sure that the man would try actually* to injure him, but he could not be sure that he would not. It he were a man with no ugly prejudices, why should he leave the house at night to scout on the cliff? Tony had descended the rope some fifteen feet, exploring with his feet for a hold, and finding none. Ivlow he began rapidly to climb up again. He would feel safer on the solid ground of the cliff-top. But here he discovered a simple fact which he ought to have taken into consideration before. To get over the edge of an overhang is far easier than to negotiate it going up. The rope was taut above: he could not get his arm crooked over the rock rim, even if he could have found a handhold on the rope itself. Every* effort to get back proved futile, and he was relieved when he heard Driscoll’s voice from the distance, coming, it seemed to him, from the direction of the house. But he was still in an awkward position. The rope was fifty feet long, and he had knotted it in two places near the lower extremity* to tell him when he was near its limit. But what if he could neither get back on the clifftop nor find a cave in the face before he reached the end of his tether? The thought chilled him. He saw what a fool he had been to venture without assistance. He might have got Forge to accompany him. Between them the venture would not have been so perilous. But he had sent Forge to Londonderry, and in an extremity he would be forced to shout for some one to come from the house. That in itself was alarming. If Driscoll wished to get rid of him, he could do it while pretending to help. A shake of the rbpe would send its burden down into the abyss below. If he could not return, at least it would be as well to find some other support in the rock before Driscoll could return. He lowered himself cautiously*, one leg twisted round the rope, the other exploring again. Luckily the overhang at the top was very small, otherwise' the rope would have held him clear. As it was, his toe touched here and there, and when he had returned to the position he had occupied when the cry from above startled him, he remembered the torch in his pocket. lie withdrew it with one hand and flashed it about, both legs now acting as a brake. The clear white spot of light touched here and there, then suddenly fastened on something and remained steady. “By Jove! I was right! ! There’s a ring here,” he said himself jubilantly. “And what's that below it?” He descended another y*ard and was opposite the ring. It was of iron, rather rusty, except at one spot, and sunk in the rock. That one polished spot suggested that something had given regular friction to the ring.

Making sure of its position, he juggled the torch into his pocket again and took a firm grip with both legs round the rope. Then he let himself swing slightly inwards and grasped at the ring with one hand. He was now stayed momentarily almost flush with the face of the cliff, and feeling below him with his right foot, ivhich he released from the rope when he made contact with the ring. He , aTe a little grunt of Cave or crevice, there was an opening in the rock below, perhaps four feet under the ring let into its face. But he could not see it with the torch extinguished, so he was forced to let go again, to climb three feet farther down the rope and feel for his torch.^ Relief was a predominant feeling in his mind when he came on the crevice. A man may be physically fit, but, if he has not had recent practice in swarming up and down a rope, a few minutes tell on him and produce an unbelievable ache in arms and shoulders. The white spotlight showed him a gaping black opening in the rock, and now he understood why most of the locals were not acquainted with the fact that there was at least one' cave. i\ot more than two feet in height, foreshortened by looking from below, it would have the appearance of a mere horizontal crack. But, though not high, the opening was six or seven feet wide. The light of the torch when thrown into it did not strike on any obstruction near the entrance. Here he might stay, even if return by the rope to the top was impossible. But there was still a difficulty not easily to be surmounted. A high cave he could have entered by an inward swung, or a jump, but the two-foot opening made that impossible. lie would only swing himself against the rock and smash something. He hung there, breathing hard and trying to think out a way. Then an idea came to him; he climbed a foot higher so that his feet were on a level with put his torch back in his pocket, and pushed off from the rock with one foot raised to reach the arch of the opening. As he swung back on the rope, he let it slip a foot through his hands, raised both legs again, and shot in half-way through the opening, narrowly missing a smash against the arch of the cave, and bringing up, head and shoulders out, with a force that almost stunned him. He saved himself as he let go his hold of the rope, by a convulsive movement inwards; otherwise he would have overbalanced and fallen into the abyss below. As he lay there panting, he realised that he had taken a foolish risk, with what looked like one chance in a hundred of succeeding. It was the kind of thing done by acrobats or pantomime harlequins who negotiate narrow openings, but in their case there was something to fall on; in his failure would have meant an ugly death on the rocks below, or in the sea at the cliff-foot. When he had steadied himself he felt for his torch. But that had struck something and was out of action. He must use one of the carriage candles. Taking out his match box, he struck a light. The match went out; a strong draught was blowing inwards. The fact puzzled him, but he tried again. This time he shielded the match and the candle and lighted up. But at the first atteqjpt to hold it clear, so that he might see about him, the candle flame expired. “If there is a draught there is another opening,” said Tony to himself “It seems to me I am not in such a pickle as I imagined.” It was necessary there to keep his head and body very low, but wriggling back a little he found that the roof of the place suddenly removed itself from just over his head, and was at least six feet in height. He stood there in the dark for a few minutes, reflecting. What was the purpose of that ring in the rock? No man in the mouth of the cave could stand up and use it. It would be impossible from there even to attach a rope to it. Had it been let in a few inches above the arch of the cave he could have understood its meaning better. But speculation was futile. He gave it up and tried his matches again Three went out, and then he discover ed that he had done the inexcusable thing. He had brought a box containing only a few matches, and those were now done. “The draught will help me, if the light doesn’t,” he said philosophically, He threw down the match box and began to feel his way in, keeping his course by the cool air on the back of his neck. In three paces he walked into a rock and bruised his nose. He stop ped, rubbed it ruefully, and felt to one side. But he did not go farther. He heard a curious sound, -soft, sibilant and, considering his position, rather alarming. He could not say what made it halted him for a few moments. It had died down again. He held his breath, cursing the lack of the torch. After a little he had an inspiration. The match box was empty, but there might be a stray match in one of his pockets. He began to search rapidly and came on one in a pocket of his waistcoat. He lighted it. and the flame flickered up for a second. He saw that he was at the edge of the obstructing rock, and the landward passage vras only a foot to his right. He moved that way, and there was a swish and a crash. He did not know or see what it was. A heavy stick or club took him on top of the head and felled him to the ground. Someone grunted in the dark, then chuckled. ITo be continued.) llllllllllilllllllllillllllllllllinillllllllillllßilllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllilllllllllllil