SOLITUDE LTD.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 18940, 10 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 XVII. AX ACCIDENTAL MEETING. Moville, farther down the lough from Londonderry, is the place where some of the American liners call to land passengers for the northern counties, and there Terry Donovan was directing himself when he met Mary Farrar. He had had a wireless from the liner, mentioning the hour of arrival, and left Portrush for Londonderry early in the morning. Descending at the station on the Waterside, he crossed the river by the ferry and, finding half an hour on his hands, went for a stroll down the Strand to look at the shops. He was staring interestedly into a shop when a light hand touched him on the shoulder, and a once familiar voice addressed him. “Well, Terry—wool-gathering for a change?” He swung round quickly and saw Mary. “Well, if this isn’t grand!” he cried. “How are }’ou, Mary? Faith, you have grown ! ” “Since you proposed to marry me at the early age of sixteen, Terry,” she #aid merrily, as she shook hands. “But you’re a sad traitor, for you have never come near us, but kept well away. Shy, I suppose, as ever?” He laughed. “I see age hasn’t exorcised the demon of teasing out of you yet, Mary. But I haven’t asked after your aunt yet. How is she?”

“Very well indeed. You haven’t told me yet what had prevented j*ou from coming.”

“I'll tell you in a day or two,” he said. “Too late. Why not now?”

He shook his head. “A secret still. By the way, what are you doing here all alone?”

She smiled. “ I am staying with a friend here. We left the car in a garage over on the Waterside, and my friend is buying some unromantic groceries.”

Terry nodded. “ Well, I have news for you. I met a' man you know, an Englishman. What do you think of that?” She stared. “ You don’t mean Mr Chant? Is he in Derry?”

“ Not he. I met him in the Northern Counties, at Portrush. He stayed one night, and then he said he was going home.” “Mr Chant who has taken The Ness?”

“ Sure. The very man. Mary, he”s a nice fellow.”

“ Tell me something new,” replied Mary. “ But that is odd. Mr Chant told me he was coming up here for the day. He escorted me here, under the impression that my path might be beset by ruffians. But why Portrush?” “ I wondered,” said Terry. “He came one evening, and he went off next day. He didn’t go to look at the scenery, for he played billiards with me in the hotel. You’re sure he didn’t tell \ r ou why he was going?” “ Certain. He was nominally bound here in search of sparking-plugs for a motor-car he hired.”

“ Well, I don’t know there was any good reason why he should tell you, though it may be there was,” commented Terry vrith a grin. “ But one thing struck me as funny when we w r ere colloguing together. fie was asking questions about that old divil Driscoll, and about some caves in the cliff he imagined. I told him there weren’t any. What would he want with caves when he has a nice house to live in?” Mary frowned. “ I don’t know. But, Tern', won’t you come to lunch with us somewhere? Do!”

“ I can’t. It’s tragical to lose such a good chance, but I am really due soon at Moville.”

Is that where you have your secret hid?”

Not yet,” said he. “ But j'ou never know. I ought to be off now, and 1 will. In two or three days at the most I’ll be over to see you and Miss Farrar, and bring my secret with me. It’s a pretty one; faith, it is.”

Mary smiled. “ We’ll hold you to that,” she said, as she shook hands. '* I’H let you off on that condition.” But when he had gone she looked anxious. Tony Chant’s visit to Portrush might be the result of a whim, but why should he ask Terry Donovan about Driscoll and the supposititious caves? He had talked to her about them, even spoken of climbing the cliff. Here she remembered that he had

talked of going there in the dark. She had been alarmed by that suggestion. The visit to Portrush could not bear on that, but she was worried all the same. Her friend came out of the shop and joined her. “ I must go on to the library now,” she said. “ Coming, Mary?” “No,” said Mary promptly; “I want to telephone. You carry on, and I’ll meet you outside the Guildhall in twenty minutes.” She went into the shop, asked for the loan of a telephone directory and looked up the names of the principal garages. She rang them up in turn, and at the third try she was tokl that a Mr Chant had ordered a set of spark-ing-plugs, but had asked to have them sent on by post. On the previous day he had sent a man to ask why they had not come. The garage had informed this man that the plugs had been posted. They were making further inquiries. Mary rang off and left the shop. “ That must be Forge,” she said to herself. “ But I thought Mr Chant was bringing the plugs himself to save time. I don’t supopse there is really anything odd in it, but I don’t feel quite easy about him. I hope he hasn’t taken advantage of my being away to carry out that silly idea of climbing by night.” The idea grew in her mind. He was so concerned about Driscoll, so curious about the caves. If she could only have seen Forge and asked him his opinion. But that was unlikely.

It is the unlikely things that happen, though in a town like Londonderry chance meetings come off more fre quently than in a metropolis. She was on her way to the Guildhall when she came on Forge. The valet was striding along with a little suit-case in his hand, and she understood at once that he was on his way to the station. He recognised her simultaneously and raised his hat, smiling deferentially when she stopped him.

“ Nice morning, miss,” he said, wondering what she had to say to him. “ Very,” said Mary. “ But what 1 really want to know is - v She paused and corrected herself. “I mean to say I heard Mr Chant was in Portrush the other day. Did he go back to The Ness?”

Forge nodded. “Yes, miss. He came back, but the plugs he had ordered hadn’t come, so he sent me here to inquire, and he told me to stay the night.”

“Are you going home now?” “Yes miss. I have about ten minutes to vspare.”

Mary frowned. “Do you know if Mr Chant really intended to climb the cliffs at Mulcree?”

Forge agreed. “I had an idea he wanted to have a look at some caves, miss.”

She shrugged. “Have you any idea why he was so keen on it?”

Forge thought that was a strange line of questioning, but he replied as best he could, “I have an idea, miss.” “Had it anything to do with our butler. Driscoll?” “Well, it might have, and again it might not, miss.” Mary became clearer. "Had you any idea that Mr Chant talked of climbing after dark?” Forge started.’ “No, miss. Surely he didn’t think of such a thing? If I*had known that I would have spoken to him pretty strongly about it, miss.” The idea of Forge as Tony’s guardian angel would have amused her at any other time. Now she looked worried. “Is it possible he knew that and sent you here for the night while he made the experiment?” The valet’s eyes lit up. “That might be so, miss. It would be rather like him.” Mary frowned again. “Mr Forge, I hope you will be frank with me. If Mr Chant’s project had anything to do with Driscoll, will you tell me why it should be so?” Forge reflected for a moment. “I haven't much time, miss,” he said, look ing at his watch. But Mary was not to be shaken off. Something was wrong, and Tonv Chant had not told her what it was. “Wait here for a moment,” she said peremptorily. “I must see a friend of mine and tell her that I may be detained.” She shot off before Forge could reply, and he scratched his head and was plunged in thought immediateljG (To be continued.)