“The Innocent Accomplice”

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 75, Issue 41, 18 February 1932, Page 10

“The Innocent Accomplice”

A NEW SERIAL STORY

...By

ETHEL F. HEDDLE.

CHAPTER XVl.—(Continued

“'Someone was coming down those hedges." Ted whispered. ‘‘Ring the bell, Peggy. We’ll see who it was I We can't see them, but they could hear us." They rang the bell, and it clanged loudly. Then they waited. A grim old man. rather red-faced and choleric, appeared after a pause, and both left the notes. He glanced at Peggy, and then at her companion. “I’ll give them at once Io Mr England.” he said, and closed the gate. But he stood looking after them. Two servants from the Manor. Curious! They looked somehow, odd servants. “She looked as if she'd been crying,” Walter ruminated. “Pretty girl! Usual thing, I suppose—love quarrel. ‘‘Way of a man with a maid.” The old proverb always puzzled him also. “Yes, and her way with him! Much of a muchness!” He went and closed the gate and took both the notes to his master. Michael was seated in the little “den,” staring before him. Ever since he had seen Peggy in the Trevor's hall, he had had an odd, glad sense of coming joy. He had found her! It was all he knew. He would teach her to love him—and would hold those little cold hands so tightly that she could not escape I If there was some mystery—if she knew something about the burglary that night—he would probe it, some day. She was innocent. He would teach her to trust and confide in him. But now—now—all his aerial edifice of hope lay in ruins about him. “Ted I" She called this man Ted, and she said he “knew how she loved him.” The explanation of it all! Why had he never discovered it? She loved this Ted, and in some way pleaded with him. And she shrank from him, Michael, as he had seen aer shrink—with fear. Why? Did she think that he could harm this man ? How ? The night of thp burglary? If—it —this man was involved? And Peggy kne vv ? She loved him! It was ail he could come back to. He read the notes listlessly, and remembered telling Rosemary the story of his love. He regretted doing it. But he had given no name. And he knew Rosemary. She would say nothing, even to the Admiral. Michael winced as he thought. Should he leave the place? Alas! He knew he could not. Peggy Kept his heart. Just to think of seeing her again kept him there—love was like that? He could not leave her, could not lose the chance of seeing her. “I am a fool and a coward 1 A ‘madman.’ as Shakespeare says 1” he told himself ruefully. “Dave is a madness!" But Just to hear her step —see her face —those sweet, frightened blue eyes—l I can picture her that night. looking up at the stars. She didn’t seem afraid, then. She looked as if she felt safe with me, in those silent London streets. AU the mighty heart lying still.’ . . He sat and thought and thought, then rose with a long aigh. “After el! haw many love affairs ‘gang egley!’ I can’t grouse 1 And If—it still— l could ever help her! Is that possible?”

CHAPTER XVII

“Your duty is to answer the telephone here,” Southgate had said to the new footman, and Belton had answered respectfully, “Yes, sir.” A little flash came into his blue eyes—very handsome eyes; Rosemary had decided he certainly was a most “passable” young man. When he returned later from the village he had had a certain conversation with a man in the billiard-room of the inn. And next morning Southgate, coming in to see the library was all right, noticed a pane of glass in the big French window was cracked across. He gave a “Tut! Tut” of wrath and annoyance. Nothing had been reported to him. He rang for the maid, who disclaimed all knowledge of it. No, she had not done it with her brush. Mr Southgate would have been Informed if she had—or the housekeeper. Mr Southgate waved his hand. "Then, I suppose the Admiral did it I" he said sarcastically. “Or Mrs Trevor. Well, never mind. Send Belton to me." Belton came and showed polite concern about the breakage. He examined It carefully. "Get on the ’phone and tell Briggs, the plumber and glazier at Bodley, to send up a glazier with new glass,” he said. “Briggs is the man In the town. We’ve no one here. Tell him to look sharp about it, for the Admiral hates to be put out. Fortunately he is going over to the links, and will be away till about five. I expect we can get it done by then." The butler moved majestically away, and Belton got on the ’phone, first carefully closing the door. In the pantry, later, he told Southgate all was well. The glazier would be sent, but found he could not be up till four or five Southgate nodded absentmindedly. He was reading the details of the last race. He had a bit on, and scarcely heard. It was Southgate's afternoon out, so be told Belton to see that the man did his work—to spread cloths over the Persian rugs and generally “keep his eye” on things till his return. Briggs he said was a good, oldfashioned firm, and only employed man of excellent character. The Admiral, being told at lunch of the catastrophe, growled a good deal, and remarked to R isemary that all maids were “careless baggages.” But he bad a golf match with “old Edwards, so would not be bothered by the mess in his room. He hoped Southgate would see the place was ail right before he got back. Once let the British workman into your house Rosemary and the rest of the party were going over to a tennis party. She noticed Peggy s pale face as the girl handed her the latest Paris “•ports ’ frock. "You don’t look so well as you did, Peggy, do you know?” she said. “Anything bothering you, child? You aren't hankering after the stir in England's. are you, and the crowds in th* High Street?” “Oh, no, no!" Peggy tried to laugh. “You know how happy I am here. You are all so good to me.”

Tears had almost. rushed to her eyes. They were good to her. She liked them well, even the rough old Admiral—and she could but remember she was a traitor in the camp. Her brother was a thief. She felt all smirched. Crooks meant to steal from them—one was Tedl “I hope it Isn't a love affair, Peggy-’’ Rosemary resumed teasingly. “I hear you work fearful havoc In the village —and won’t look at any of them. Good-looking people have much to answer for. Talking of that, the new footman is a very handsome young man. I told Southgate to keep an eye on him. He’ll have all the maids after him, en masse. But he keeps himself to himself also. Southgate says.” She did not look at Peggy. She was trying the effect of one scarf after another, over her pullover, and tossing them down. She did not see the girl's start of terror at Belton’s name, but she did notice her pallor. Had she hit the mark? Was it a love affair? But who could Peggy see in the Manor to love? She was thinking of it still, when the Admiral drove her, himself, in his Baby Austin so far on the way. The others were going in the Rolls with the boy. The Admiral loved to drive his wife himself. He told her he scarcely saw her when the house was full. “Bill,” she said, as they swept into the road, “I am puzzled about Peggy —my maid, you know." “What about her?’’ he said. “She’s a deuced pretty little girl.” “She looks depressed somehow, and pale. I was chaffing her about being in love. But who could there be here for her to be in love with?" The staunch old man said nothing for a moment. He was not going to give Peggy away—baggage though she was—even to Rosemary. “There is the new footman,” Rosemary resumed, as if ruminating. “But Peggy would never look at him! And he's bareley been here a few days. Still, girls are quite unaccountable. Look at Lady Mavis, marrying that Highland gillie. Of course, she tired of him In six months —little fool." She had gone off at a tangent, and they said nothing more till they spun past Michael on the road, with his rod, and Rosemary called out to him that he must dine with them that night. Then they went on. Rosemary had gone off on a new train of thought. “There is Michael, too,” she said. “Poor fellow. He—he told me a bit of history; I can’t tell you all, BUI. But there Is someone he loves who won’t look at him. You wouldn't think that of old Michael. Most girls would jump at him. Trade is nothing nowadays—we are all In It—and he is a dear! A perfect dear! Still, you can’t account for these things. But I must say—whoever she is who won’t love old Michael —she’s a little fool.” The Admiral said nothing. His eyebrows met. What did it mean? It was beyond him. “Girls are all fools 1 That old Scot was right! But 1 suppose God Almighty made ’em to match the men.” • • • • Peggy had taken her hat and was going out, when she heard low and furtive voices in the library. Then she heard a little, soft laugh, and something in its quality made her start and stand still. That was the laugh of—of—Ted’s friend Chips 1 She knew it 1 He had come to the flat once or twice. She did not hesitate. Rather pale, she opened the door and went In. Both men turned round sharply. Belton, in his footman's livery and spotless shirt, the glazier, a big man in workman's clothes, his hair rather rough, a tweed cap on the floor beside the new pane of glass, and the putty, and his tools. His face was a little dirty—he was not well shaven or point device—but she recognised him with a sickening leap of her heart. Chips I There was a dead silence for a moment. Then: "Well, Peggy, what is it?” Belton said in his quiet voice. He went behind her and closed the door. "Come in to see if the pane is going in all right? But that Isn’t your business, Peggy. You are a lady’s maid. Susan gave me the cloths. The Persian rug is all right. We’ll make no mess.” He was In one of his worst and most bitter moods. His eyes mocked her and threatened. She knew that before Chips he was always at bls worst and most reckless. “I—what are you doing?" she demanded. Anger rose fiercely in her heart as she looked at Chips. She turned to him. "I know -you!” she said, a red spot on her face. “I know you I You are no glazier. I suppose Ted arranged this. And you are here for no good. What if I give you away? If I warn the Admiral?” “But you won’t do that, prettv Peggy I" Chips said in his softest voice. “You won’t do that." He took a cigarette case from his pocket and lit a cigarette. “It wouldn't do, you see. for Ted's sake. And you aren't going to give Ted away, are you?" Peggy could have wrung her hands. His light, cold eyes were glacial. He mocked her. Then he eat down coolly on the leather sofa and nodded to the glass on the floor as he applied a match to bis cigarette. "And aa to not being a glazier, I beg your pardon. I shall put in the pane with the greatest skill. It Is by no means the first I have put in—-or broken. 1 don’t think we are going io have any heroics, pretty Peggy. i know you are given to them. But I wouldn't ‘warn the Admiral,’ as you express it, for your own sake. I wouldn't get the detectives down asking questions about you.” "I am not afraid for myself," she cried passionately. “You know that, Ted. It Is for you—you.” “Of course we know the truth about you,” Chips said. He silenced Ted with a peremptory wave of his hand. “Let me deal with her, Ted. 4TO M MQUouMJt