OUR NEW SERIAL THE YOUNG ARCHDUCHESS

Waimate Daily Advertiser, Volume XXIII, 26 May 1922, Page 3

OUR NEW SERIAL THE YOUNG ARCHDUCHESS

(By

WILLIAM LE QUEUX)

CHAPTER XIX. (Continued). The day after the conversation between the lovers, Vincent was walking down Bond 'Street. It was about four o’clock in the afternoon and the fashionable street was pretty well crowded. Amongst the pedestrians, the amateur detective recognised more than one member of the upper criminal classes with whom he had had dealings in the course of his career, got up in the most faultless attire, and assuming the air of persons who were in the habit of mixing in exclusive circles. Walking in front of him was a trimlooking elegant-figured woman, dressed in the latest and most expensive fashion. He had a marvellous memory not only for faces but for figures. Something in her carriage struck him with a sense of familiarity. If he could only catch a glimpse of her face, he could be sure.

He moderated his pace, as he was walking very slowly. And presently the opportunity he wanted was given to him. She stopped suddenly in front of a big jeweller’s shop and examined intently the glittering gems displayed in the window.

In so doing her profile was fully revealed to him. No, he had not been mistaken in thinking that he had met her before. That elegant figure, that charming profile belonged to Madame Thirska, the woman who had been so sympathetic to the supposed mendicant begging for alms outside the doors of the Grasshopper restaurant.

A sudden idea, one of those inspirations which sometimes came to him, flased into his brain and he did not lose a moment in putting it. into execution.

He walked along and halted in front of the shop window close beside her. He took off his hat and accosted her in his usual easy and pleasant manner. “ I trust Madame Thirska will pardon the liberty I take in addressing her, but we are now quite on natural ground. And we were properly introduced at Market Harborough by Mrs Somers.” As he finished, he smiled a moment with his most genial and dis-

arming smile. The Russian woman looked round quickly at the sound of his voice and recognised him immediately. Foi' a second, a slight frown gathered on her brow, then the humour of the situation seemed to strike her, and the frown gave way to a look, half comical, half apprehensive,

You are not going to drive mo but of Bond Street as you did out of the other place, I hope,” she said. With a raillery that was a little assumed. Vincent was a very formidable person; it was impossible to guess what he was meditating, what he had up his sleeve. He spoke quite seriously. “ I can see you are a little nervous, but you need be under no apprehension that I am going to take any violent measures. My feelings towards you at the moment are not in the least hostile. In fact, I have it in my mind to propose something that would distinctly benefit you.” She looked at him closely and intently. He was very good to look at, she thought. In spite of her undeniable crimiaal instincts, she was a very emotional woman and also very susceptible to the influence of the stronger sex. “ We were enemies at Market Harthought. In spite of her undeniable other,” went on the young man in his easy, persuasive tones. ‘‘ I was the conqueror then. 1 hope you don’t bear me too much malice on account of that fact. To-day we are no longer enemies; we are in a state of peace.’’ She answered him slowly, choosing her words carefully. “No, I don’t think I bear you any personal malice for tliat. In fact lam sure Ido not. When I am beaten, I am always ready to own it and to admit that the person who beat me is cleverer and more subtle than myself. I respect that person rather than hate him.”

“ Truly a very complex person!” was Vincent’s thought. She had proved herself capable of compassion and generosity when he had posed as the decrepit mendicant. She was now prov ing that she was not petty. After a short pause she spoke again. “ You said you had something in your mind that would benefit me. I take it you cannot explain yourself in the street?”

“ Impossible, of course,” said Vincent quickly. “ As we are, at present, in a state of peace, a little conversation between us will do no harm to

the friends of either of us. I was going to propose that you should do me the honour of taking tea with me.”

Madame Thirska hesitated. “ Where can we go? In a few minutes every place will be full. I take it that whatever you are going to say will be of a most private nature-”

“Naturally. But I think I can solve that little difficulty. My knowledge of London is rather extensive. I know a restaurant not very far from here, but quite off the beaten track. Its habitues are nearly all foreigners and hardly a soul comes near the place of an afternoon But I know them well, and they will get some tea for us.”

For a moment Madame Thirska hesitated. Was he leading her into a trap? Would she find the minions of the law waiting for her when she got inside this restaurant which was quite “ off the beaten track”?

He guessed what was passing in her mind, and was compelled to admit that, in her place, the same suspicions would have occurred to him. How was he to convince her that his present designs did not menace her liberty in any way ?

“I quite understand what is passing in your mind,” he said quietly. “ Under the circumstances, it is not unnatural. Will you believe me if I swear by all that I hold sacred that my meeting with you to-day is a chanoe one, that I meditate no harm against you, and that you shall come out of that place as safely as you went into it?”

She looked at him as if she would read his very soul, but he never flinched a second from that searching gaze. “ Yes, I will come, trusting to your honour,” she said briefly. “ I know something of you English. You keep your word.”

Vincent hailed a taxi. They got in and in a few moments .both were de-

posited at the out-of-the-way restaur ant which he had indicated.

His description of it was perfectly

correct. There were two badly-lighted rooms, the sole occupant of the depressing apartments being a dingy-looking

Jtalian waiter, who spoke English most iillnerfeetlj. .'le half asleep when thej entered, but at once flourished his napkin and assumed an air of alacrity.

Tea was evidently an unaccustomedmeal in this forlorn establishment, for it was quite half an hour before it was served, and was of a most unsatisfactory quality.

During the long wait, Vincent talked slowly and earnestly to the Russian woman. During the frequent pauses in what was really a monologue, she would shake her head and murmur the one word “ impossible.” Then presently, the head-shaking ceased, the word “impossible” was no longer repeated, and Madame began to talk on her own account, to ask questions. The tea was over, the conversation finished. Madame rose.

“ It would be wiser for you to leave alone, I think,” said Vincent. “I will depart after a few moments. I will get Luigi t<s call you a taxi- We will meet here to-morrow at the same hour, but we will arrive separately. One cannot be too cautious.”

From there the young man went on to Onslow Gardens, where he had a long interview with the good Renoir. It was a very important one. When Vincent bade him good-bye, the faithful .guardian of the young Archduchess shook him warmly by the hand.

“ I have every confidence in your zeal and ability, Mr Vincent, and I think you are doing splendidly. All my resources, acting as trustee for my dear young mistress (that precious legacy bequeathed to me by my beloved master), are at your disposal. Alas, that the poor Colonel is not with us to-day!”