FOR THE SAKE OF GOLD.

Tuapeka Times, Volume XLIV, Issue 5965, 31 July 1912, Page 4

FOR THE SAKE OF GOLD.

(All !!iR-hts Reserved.) ■

I\v the Author of "Out of Darkness," "A Day of Keckoning," Etc., Etc.

A SENSATIONAL RCMANCF,

PART 7. "Win, mate, I'd advise you to find work elsewhere now. Both you and yoTir lass would be better away from that man." "It's easier said than done," was the man's reply, as Captain Clarke went forward. "I wouldn't like to say that Mr. Phil will die in Ms bed if he doesn't keep out of that fellow's way," hf thought. CHAPTER X. PACE TO FACE. After walking some distance, CapUin Clarke came to a bridge which crossed a stream, and in anothet minute he was on a broad, level road. In front of him stood a substantial' bouse, and at a little distance' a 'fine old castle. "Well, if' Squire Basset is the Captain Basset I knew, he's got en pretty considerably," he thought as he quickened his steps, and in a little while stood in front of a massive iron gate, over which was an ancient stone arch. A kind of keep formed a lodge, and as he passed through the gateway a woman came to the door ; but as he walked on she offered no Objection,' though he could see she was undecided as to the nature oi his business. "Reckon I'm not swell enough for a visitor here," he reflected, as he gazed appreciatively around at the well-kept garden, which even in November was not without attraction. Presently he reached the principal entrance, and saw that the massive oak' door, studded with brass nails, stood open, but the inner dcor, which was partly glass, was closed, and as he rang the bell Clarice saw a wide, long hall, which appeared to him more like a room than aj entrance hall. Scarcely a minute elapsed before a manservant opened the door, and in reply to his query whether Mr. Basset was at home received a reply in the affirmative.

"Will you tell him I wish to see him oft' urgent business ?" said Clarke. "Yes, sir. Step this way ;" and the man, who knew that his master now and then had visitors whom he would scarcely have called gentlemen, but whose business, being connected with the Stock Exchange, was of vital importance to the squire, showed him into a small room, then asked what name he should say. "Never mind my name. Just tell Mr. Basset it's a matter of business." Now, to Squire Basset business meant speculation, and as he had uniformly been successful the word had a pleasant ring, and his face wore a look of satisfaction as he inquired the person's name. He didn't give it, sir. He said I was to tell you it was a matter of business." "All right, John ;" and the squire who had been busy with some accounts which he had found eminently satisfactory, put the papers away and rose, thinking that if this last venture had been successful he would be at least ten thousand pounds richer. And of course it would have gone all right ; he had a|ways prospered from his first speculation. In this self-satisfied mood he opened the door and entered the room in wtiich Clarke was waiting, who had seated himself so that the light would fall on Mr. Basset, while he himself was in the shade. "You wish to see me on a matter of business," said the squire, in a decided, but not unpleasant tone, and as he listened Clarke could have imagined he was mate on board the Sea Gull and the captain was giving an order. Then as he looked at him all uncertainty vanished. The man before him looked older, his hair was changed to iron grey, but the face was the same. He was a little stouter, and had the air of being scmebody ; but he was the man who had once been captain of the Sea Gull.

"You have business to state?" he repeated, in a slightly impatient tone. The squire was not a man who liked to be kept waiting. Clarke came forward ; he bad risen to his feet when the squire entered. "I have a question to ask, Captain Basset. What did you do with the diamonds the dying man confided to you ?" Basset was a man of iron will, and had wonderful power of selfcontrol ; but for a moment he felt stunned, and stood gazing at the speaker, while his fresh colour took a grey tinge, as though a blight had touched him and added years to his age. "Where are the diamonds ? Did you sell tbem, and secure all this for yourself ?" asked Clarke, pointing out of the window. By a superhuman effort Basset recovered himself, but his face still wore the aged, changed look as he ?a\d : "Will you explain your meaning? 1 am at a loss to understand you ?" "Va t is not true, Captain Basset. Your face tells a different tale. But I'll ?o ir.to particulars, as I mean to have the affair sifted to the bottom. Do you remember me ? My nme is Clarke ; I was mate on bo rd the Sea Gull. One of the sa lors was a man named Ned Jones, and he was doing some cleaning near the dying man's cabin at the time he gave the diamonds into your keeping, and he heard you swear to deliver them to the man's wife. Have you kept your oath ?" While Clarke had been talking, Basset's keen intelligence had grasped one or two facts which considerably reassured him, and his tone w.s elm and deliberate as he said : "Suppose your tale about diamonds having been confided to me was true, your proper course would be to seek the widow of the man and ask her if she received (.hero instead 'of coming to me." "I should have gone to her first if I had known her name," replied Clarke, who was no diplomatist. Squire Basset smiled sarcastically. "Don't you think it's rather a soclc-and-bull tale to charge me with haviug received;, diamonds from a man whose name you do not even UtftT'

"Jones forgot the man's name, and so did I." ''Look here: is it likely that a man who had heard such a transaction as you tell me he says he did, would remember it and forget the man's name ?" Basset spoke In a quiet, Impartial tone, and for a moment Clarke wondered if the sailor's tale had been true. Then as he remembered the man's earnestness he said : "I believe Jones spoke the truth. I suppose you admit that you were at one time captain of the Sea Gull ?"

"Certainly. Why should I deny it ?" asked Basset, who had been quick to decile what course of action it would be well to take. "Then, Captain Basset, may I ask how you got the money to buy this place ? It would nee.l a !>i» s'un, and I hear it's been in your hazels over twenty-four years."

"Under the circumstances I will answer you. When I landed after the voyage in the Sea Gull I found a letter waiting for me. It was from a gentleman who told me I was his illegitimate son, and as all his lawful children were dead, and the entailed property would so to a distant relation, he wished to give me his private fortune by deed of gift. I saw him—he was near his end—but a fortune of over fifty thousand pounds passed into my hands, and I invested it in this estate. Of course, I didn't wish my antecedents to be known, so I held my tongue as to the past. If I had told people that I had been captain of a small trading vessel they would have wondered, as you did, how I got my money—and a man is not proud of being ille. 'itimate. So you will understand that I shall be glad if you remember I am Squire, uot Captain Basset." Clarke was staggered. It was such a plausible tale, but he would have believed it but for the earnestness with which Jones had told his story and the change in Basset's face when he named the diamonds.

"Do you deny ever having any diamonds given into your charge ?" he asked. "Most decidedly I do." "Then you won't o':;ect, to tell me the name of the r.i . • wh > died on board the Sea Call?" said Clarke. "I do object. Do yun think I'm going to let you cany ibis foolish tale to his family ?" s .tl oq>.'.re Basset. "Very well ; I shall !'"id out, and I may as well tell y.'.v. 1 i-e'ievc you had the diamonds. ;; . r .-liall try to discover what I:C< ■ ■■•• ■■! them." "You're a fool—at l o'. f.inate fool. Haven't I told you 1 never received any diamonds ?"

"You've told me lint, and I've said I don't relieve you, so I think we've done with each other ;" and Captain Clarke moved towards the door. Basset touched a hell, and following his visitor to the door, he told the footman who appeared to show that person out. In the hall Clarke passed a pretty girl, whom he recognised as the young lady he had seen on horseback, and knew she was Basset's stepdaughter. "What if the tale he told me should be true, and Jones imagined all about the diamon Is ?" Then as the old sailor's sensi le face appeared before his mind's eye, and he remembered the unfaltering way in which he bad told his tale, Clarke decided that he was telling the truth and Basset the lie.

Thinking this, C!an;e decided that he would go to London and endeavour to trace Basset's actions from the time he left the Sea Gull until he took up his residence at Croftstone Castle. He was still absorbed in thought when he arrived at the farm, and answered his sister's questions as to where he had been in an absent manner that made her think he was annoyed at something, but she merely remarked that tea was ready, and he would find it would freshen him up wonderfully. Meanwhile Basset shut himself in the library alone to face this new difficulty. Never since the day he met Mrs. Lucas and knew she was the dead man's widow had he received such a shock.

During the twenty-four years that the woman he had wronged had lived under his eye he had been able to' forget what he had done. She h d been a constant reminder of his >i:i, and he had grown to hate her ; i nl the fear of detection had passrd. Until that afternoon he had nt dreamed that the crime would i e discovered ; but then it dawned up n him that it was not a vague ]>■ ;-sil ility, but might at any time I f.- ome on actual fact. That man l 1 rke seemed a determined fellow ; he recollected that he had been a r s ,bte young man, and if this sa lor Jones and he discovered the dead man's name there would be a ii?ckc;iiug diiy. Not only would he have to repay the sum of money that lie had received for the diamonds with interest, but it was a crimb punishable by law, and for a second the proud man quailed as he thought of himself in a felon's dock. Then he told himself that should never lie ; he would take his life first. Then the thought occurred—what if Clarke should die ; He would be safe then; the sailor would be c.isy to deal with, if only Clarke would die. Basset waz not a man to commit murder ; he would have rec.med from the action. But in his i.e:-irt he was a murderer, as he ank/.tty longed for the other man's death. Then he wondered where the fellow was staying,, and how he had discovered his residence. Well, he didn't think any conclusive proof against him was likely to be forthcoming ; still, at least, there mkl.t be scandal and trouble. Ah, well, if it was only that he could live it down, but he should have to be wary now ; and having come to this decision, he left the room and went to the drawing-room, where Sy' il was sitting in a low chair, wtrle her aunt presided over the tea-trny. "Will you have a cup of tea, Bquire ?" said Miss Melita, whom, having been aunt to his second wife, and being a lady of means, he always treated with res.ect, while she, in return, looked up to him witn awe. "I don't mind if I do. Did you enjoy your- ride this morn'ug, Sybil?'' he asked, as he s':u<"i inu.sclf and looked at his stepdaj^htor. "No." The word was spoken in a decided tone, and his face clouded, a:; he knew that Philip had. been her companion. "I am afraid you are not easily please', young lady." "Perhaps riot. Oh, d:>d, who was the man that came t.t .-2 y'-.i .t-.ij

. (.T!l 'on :'" ■ A >is n (_n business. Why cii you r.si; ?" "Because he looked at me so-hard, sucl I could have fancied he was pitying me. He had a good face." "He wrs an impudent, fellow tc stare at you, and if he lias a good face I'm afraid it is more than lit ought to claim, as he is scarcely honest in his dealings." "Oh, a Stock Exchange man. 1 d.dn't think he looked like that." "Perhaps you thought he was a cl-n-ym: n?" said the squire, in u sarcastic tone. "No : I thought he looked like a sailor." "Then you were wrong," was the quiet reply.

CHAPTER XI. SQUIRE BASSET SFI2AKS. A week elapsed, and the squire was beginning to think his fears were groundless—that Clarke had found it both too difficult and expensive a matter to follow up the clue he had got—when one morning, as he turned fever the pa<:es of the "Times," his eye rested on the following advertisement : "Wanted, the name of the vessel in which John Lucas—supposed to have died at sea—took passage from South Africa to London between twenty-four and twenty-five years ago. Also particulars of the death of the said John Lucas. A reward will be given for such information. Address, Mrs. Lucas, care of Mr. Croftstone, Bridge House, Croftstone." Basset read and re-read the paragraph, which seemed to fascinate him. What did it mean ? Evidently something had happened to induce Mrs. Lucas to take this step. For years she had believed he was dead, but in that advertisement she stated that he was supposed to have died at sea. How had she got to know that ? Had Clarke seen her ? An instant's reflection told Basset that was not possible, or she would know the name of the ship, and he knew Mrs. Lucas well enough to feel certain that if she had been told that her husband had confided diamonds to his care she would at once have seen him. Yes, and she would have had the matter sifted to the bottom. Whoever had told her anything, it was not Clarke, or the sailor from whom she bad received his information. Then where had she got her knowledge ? It showed that after all these years there was danger of him losing what he had sinned to obtain—danger of that and disgrace.

The very thou:'lit made the drops of sweat stand on his brow, and as he wiped it he felt thankful that he was the only one in the break-fast-room. For some time Squire Basset sat quite still, thinking what information tins advertisement would bring Mrs. Lucas. The danger was lest Clarke should see it ; then he would have the information he required. He would be sure to remember the name as soon as he saw it in print. Just at that moment Sybil entered the room, and her stepfather, who had recovered somewhat from the shock he had received, turned to her, saying : "Have you seen this advertisement Mrs. Lucas has put in the paper ?" "No. What is it?" asked Sybil, who, though she had not seen it, was perfectly aware of the nature of the advertisement, as Joan had told her what her mother intended doing. "Read it," he said, handing her the paper ; and Sybil read it. "Very strange, making inquiry so late in the day," he continued. "No doubt Mrs. Lucas has a reason for it," she replied. "I fancy it's a matter of impulse. They're a queer lot, the Lucas family, Croftstone is all right, but they are not like him."

"They are a good lot. Mrs. Lucas and Joan are splendid women, and .Tack is one in a thousand," she said, forgetting for the moment that she was supposed to know very little of the latter. Squire Basset's brow darkened as he said : "So Dr. Lucas is ' Jack ' to you. I think, Sybil, it is about time you and Philip settled the wedding d:iy. I haven't pressed the matter lately, but I see it's been a mistake. I shall tell Phil to let me know the date at once."

"Phil can tell you the date of his niai'riare ; but it won't affect mine. I shall never he his wife." "Syl;il, you may as well understand that I intend you to marry Philip. A little while ago, when I named the matter to you, I was pus-Jed at your determined opposite™ to the marriage ; but I put it down to a girlish whim. Now I think I understand your motive. It is a Lucas who is again standing between me and my desires. However, you must understand that within two months you will have to nrrry Philip—that is the limit J shali give you." Sybil sprang to her feet. ' I sh .11 never marry your son, and the days for forcing a girl into a li- tef>.il mirriage are gone by. You (v.n talk ns you like ; hut there isn t a clergyman anywhere who w.;!iid dare to vrocccd with the ci-re-mony if I rcfrsfd to take him for my !.::*'nn'l, and that is what would hrr -'u if you carried matters so f ;r," she said, her eyes bright with ii!!.:.cr.

•'h Id, forewarned is fore-.irrncd. If ;d .1 ;; ,lutely refuse to co-sent to u\ :; i".;.!-ii.is;e l shall tal;e yon to a c;a..;it school abroad, and there volt sh 11 remain until you i;:':c the '■' oil. Ho y : see, the choice lies 1. euveen munjMig. Philip or becomin-; r nu.i." "B't I am a Protestant," she said f]i)ic!:'y. "Yes, your mother chose to Ring (foil up a Protestant ; but your father vv.ls a Horn n Catholic, and the nuns will do much to have your fortune secured to their Church ;" and with t?. e words, spoken in a stern, de- "■■■' (1 t..~ne, he rose and left the r, ora. In the hall he asked a footimn if he knew where Mr. Philip was, and was told that he was in th", fno'M-rjom, so Squire Basset pr c e'ed there, and found his son loun.ing in an easy-chair while he smoked a cigar. Something in his father's face told the young man Jhat he was considerably disturbed, and he wondered which of his latest peccadilloes had come to his ears. « "Philip, I wish you to get Sybil to settle the date of your marriage. It must be within two months," said the squire. "It's all very well asking her, but she'll laugh in my face," said Phil, feeling considerably relieved. (To be Continued),