"JOHNSMITH, Blackmailer"

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 79, Issue 15, 18 January 1936, Page 7

"JOHNSMITH, Blackmailer"

I I Serial Story I

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LINDSAY HAMILTON

CH\PTER XITT.— 'Continued.) She gave him a most, gracious sm le. I was Mr« Kean. I married again. My husband Is Colonel Grellon." ‘••inion Peck’s eyes seemed to bulge with a’lonishment. "Cnlnnel Grefton of he questioned. Yes. do you know him?” “only casually, i met him the other day in a London hospital. It. is not ihat, bul lhe place—Sandilands." He peered al tier very intently. ‘ Do you believe in overwhelming presentiments. Mrs Grellon? I am particularly sensitive to such phycic promptings. Often it worries me; my life is not my own. Forgive me. but when* you spoke Ihat. word, it severed the list strand of reluctance. 1 shall obey.” ‘ 1 don’t understand.” said Clare, ar d smiled into his face fascinatingly. "Tell me.” "Yes, I think 1 will. Something tells me we were called here to-day to meet, ’ion base a right to know. For over a w*®k I have been haunted by a most persistent and vivid dream. \ voice has called Io me—l can hear its urgent pleading now. j ha\e woken with lhe word “Sandilands” stamped in my brain; yet the dream eludes me. A few da\s ago | met your husband. Il* 5 spoke of Sandilands. I meet you; you repeal, the word.” How very odd,” remarked Clare, deeply impressed. “Only this morning.” went on Peck. *‘l addressed a soung man in a car. in r jocular fashion. He was driving out of garage, and nearly knocked me down ” ’’ Young man.’ 1 said, ‘pray think nf where you are going.’ ’i ou bet.’ tie answered, and laughed hilariously. • rm going to sandilands. Can 1 give you a lift ?” “I had half a mind to accept his offer.” Perk was growing visibily exr ted. “I know what I must do directly I leave this room I shall send a wire for accommodation; lliere is an inn. 1 suppose?” ‘Wha* a pity,” murmured Clare. “You might have come, to us. But I’m slaying on in Town for some time.” Ils peculiar glittering eyes were flvpd on her for a moment in dreamy a b si raction. Are vnu sure?’’ he said, bul rather as one positively assenting the contrary. “It s highly probable.” Clare gave a short laugh. “The place bores me to tears I’m here to recuperate.” ■ Well,” cryptically, “we shall see.” Clare could have given no sort of account of the early part of the seance. The queer personality of E’eck had driven out all immediate interest in her surroundings. She was vaguely aware of someone mumbling a prayer, of lights put out. of lhe bulky figure of .Madame Bales overflowing a chair on a slightly raised platform, of .Madame speaking in broken English with the piping voice nf a child, of long silences—all very far away and meaningless. Bul suddenly her wavering alienion was caught and held. A cliiii ran down her spine. She heard her own ian>p in that piping voice. “Clare. . . . Clara .... where’s Clara r* > ip sal frozen, unable to speak. Madame Bates’ face was like the face of someone dead: her eyes were open but lustreless, unseeing: her lips moved, the voice was not her voice. ’I came from that unseen onp. from lhe \oid beyond dealh. ’ Clara." again in peluianl demand. She managed to whisper a drv ’ Yes.” E says ’is name Van Bruno—no, nat wrong- Van Bruning.” Clare gasped. She never for one □ slant doubted. Ao one bul. Van • mining would speak of her as Clara. [ -hp had always haled to be called ! .’ara, but Van Bruning had never ured himseif of the habit. Even in ■up or two of his letters he had adher “ Clara darling.” Her first sensation of stark terror :avp way to consuming eagerness to • ear the message. The piping voice speaking again. E say lake carp. You think they <ifp; but someone want badly; soine»n p you no suspect.. Him clever, uaybe find.” ’Find what?” whispered Clare, iopuiff feverishly Ihat her own inter- ! rp’a'ion of it was wrong. 'E say you know. Better send • Bubenslein to come and buy.” Who is Rubenstein? ” There was no answer. Clare re•eated Ihp question, and still there xas no reply. Madame Bates groaned I il<»U'l mid rolled her head. Great I »p.ids of perspiralion trickled down ' ier lire. She was apparently coming ‘ >oind. A soft hand pressed «'.lare s rm. A soft voice Peck’s voice—vhispered Io her: " Rubenstein is a reputable dealer i precious stones. You will find i;n at Halton Gardens.” Not until she was home again did i.rp's feverish excitement break ut.” We’rp going back Io Greyscar loI'lrrow ." slip said derisively. Why?" \pra looked utterly . mazed. i 'i ou heard, didn'l you ?” Ye?, bul—well, it didn’t convey 1 tuch to me. I knew, nf course, | bout Van Bruning. You’ve often I .dked about him. but what does it i □can?” " It means this. m v sweet child.” ; .lid Clare, in a voice that shook ilh concentrated fury- and bitterness. ! My jewellery—twenty-five thous- | nd pounds’ worth—is hidden away ! t Sandilands. And that man . . , “ : he words seemed to choke her. I That. man ?” repeated Vera ! tupldly. “ My husband, you fool. For God's | jLp use your brains if you have any. i Vera looked shucked. ” But. Clare leal*, it’s hnpu'siblr. Colonel Crettun vould never ...” “Impossible? What do .uu know tboiit it?” with withering scorn. • Nothing is impossible when a man s desperate.” “ Not the Colonel.” persisted Vera, stoutly. I “ Really. \>ra. sometimes I think you were bnrn a fool. When you have

- . x had as much to do with m n n as I have, you'll find one’s as rotten as another, only some cover it up belter. They prate of their fine sense of honour and their justice. Ask lheir wives or lheir casl-off women—they know.” i “ i’ll IpII Lena,” said Vera, soothingly. “ How long shall we be away?” " X week, perhaps—-no more.” Thus, poor Clare little knowing what fate held in store. CIIXPTER XIV. In lhe halcyon days of Roddy's youth there were solemn pessimisls al Sandilands who prophesied al least once every week that “that young Outlaw would come Io a bad end.” and they would wag lheir beads a! lhe thought, of Miss Rachels grey hairs brought in sorrow Io the grave. True, her hair was then a glossy brown, bul the business of a prophet, is Io look ahead. And in Ihat respect and no oilier they were right. Al forty-five Rachel i.hpsler's hair was liberally sprinkled with grey. Bul what arp grey hairs to one who seems Io hold the secret of eternal youth? A life lived wholly in the interests nf others, in no spirit of sacrifice, bul as lhe simple expression of a fine character. had set Hip ageless stamp of nobility ami genlle strength on her face. Bul she was no simpleton, as more than one "hard rase.” in Dip village could testify. Those tine grey eyes might, melt with pity, but they could ns readily twinkle goodhumoured scepticism or flame indignation for another’s wrong. Roddy and she wpre something more than nephew and aunt, which perhaps accounts for the confounding of prophets. For since the day she | had come Io live with Roddy's people, an orphan al. twelve years of agp. and bad nursed their lusty infant In soothe the ache al her ho-arl. young Roddy had been for ever after her baby. History was Io repeal itself tragical!?, for when Roddy was ten bolh his mother and father were killed in a motoring accident. There were relatives who would have taken Roddy, but. ho re.fuesd Io be separated from Aunt Rachael,and together they fought it out. Rachel had her molher’s money and Briar Lodge at Sandilands. Roddy would inherit his lather's es-|, late at twenty-one. Three years before the war they • left London and came lo Briar Lodge, and for six .’ears, as each holiday time ramp round, Sandilands alternately ’ laughed and cursed at ‘‘that, young limb of Satan's" exploits. As lhe disparity in lheir ages be- , rame less marked. Roddy dropped ; Hip “Aunt" amt called her affeclionM?ly “Rachel." They were like brother and sister: "the best, sister , any fellah ever had.” Roddy used to . say. I.allerly a deeper tenderness had crept into Roddy's heart. Al , Ih.irly-t.wo he could understand more 1 fully all she had done for him. Let us leave them lhe first precious ( t-our of re-union unspoiled. Rachel slipped awax lo her own room after a time. W hen she returned, for all her smiling composure, there was a telltale mistiness still in tier eyes, and Roddy was strangely moved. He rushed her off lo inspect, his new rar. inside ami out. under the bonnet, and even pressed her lo take a look al. a patent gadget, for easy braking, but Rachel drew tne line ai. craw ling underneath. “I wrote and ordered it six months ago,” Roddy loltl her enthusiastically. "Thought wp might got about a bit. You’ll have to learn lo drive it. That’s a threat." After tea Roddy seemed suddenly .attacked by an incurable restlessness. Rachel smiled shrewdly to herself. "You must be itching In meet old friends, Roddy. \\| ( y not lake a walk round the village?” she suggested. "I met vour old enemy, Benjie, the other day. He's looking forward to seeing you. He still remembers seeing the devil in the old mill.” Roddy laughed in gleeful reminiscence. “Hairy old reprobate! 1 suppose he still goes home more by instinct. than balance every Saturday night? I think I will take a walk. I’d like to see the Colonel." Rachel turned away tn hide the twinkle in her eyes. 'A es do. and- if you see him— lpll him I’m very cross with him. Which way will you go?" Roddy caught the hint nf feminine intrigue behind Hip question. "Whiclj way would yon suggest?” he asked. “The bracken on Grcybarrow is lovely just now.” "And the view over Hip bay.” recited Roddy, "is—l forget how lhe guide hook goes on. Anyway, you think I’ll find her there? Splendid!” XVilhoul. giving her lime to reply he ruslied away to change, and appeared twenty minutes later in riding breeches, an old tweed jacket and a soft hat, dial had seen better da\s, crushed carelessly on his head. Certainly Roddy had an odd way of setting Out to woo. At such times a nian usually tries to look his best. Net following him down lhe drive with approving pyes, Rachel Olt a glow of pride in his manliness. In these rakish old dollies he was more truly Roddy. At Hie highest point of Gre.'barrow j Roddy sat on a boulder and look out his pipe. Far away to Hie left and right stretched lhe sandy bay. Half a mile ahead lhe shoulder of Grey- | barrow terminated in a broken ’.ime- ! stone scar, and below it. among Hi? i trees, thp chimneys of Greyscar pepp- • ed. adding beauty to the view that | brought a smile of anticipation |to Roddy’s lips. The figure of ' a girl was coming towards him up the I rough trade. Even at. that distance ; lhe could admire lhe vitality and grace ■of her movements as she came on I skipping lightly over the roughnesses. I A liver-and-white spaniel ran in | among the bracken ahead. | The path now took her out of sight, i A few minutes elapsed and the span- { let appeared, in hut-chase of an iilu- j siunary rabbit. Roddy called It. and ' jit came wagging its tail doubtfully. i j “Good hunting. old man?” said ’ , Roddy, and in lhe-- approved canine j I fashion lhe spaniel admitted Roddy | into the circle of his affections i Down, Bruiser, down." (To be Continued.)