OUR NEW SERIAL. THE GREEN SHADE

Waimate Daily Advertiser, Volume XXIII, 6 February 1923, Page 3

OUR NEW SERIAL. THE GREEN SHADE

By

HEADON HIL.

Author of ‘Millions of Mischief.” “Guile,” etc., etc. .. CHAPTER Xlll.—Continued. .. The reply was prefaced with a tinkle of silvery laughter, which Knyvett understood when he saw that the amused lady confronting him was very young and dressed in deep mourning. “Nothing so respectable as a Re> tor’s wife,” said the girl. “I am Miss Fancourt, of the Hall. Of course you never know your luck. If Mr Snype should ever want to marry a second time She broke off, as she had begun, on a note of merriment, and Knyvett. amplified his first brief apology. “ You see I am a stranger,” he affected a disarming diffidence. “The maid at the Rectory had just told me that I should find Mrs Snype at the church. That roll of music -—” “Misled you, naturally. Don’t say another word, Mr ?” “ Vincent,” Knyvett supplied the omission. “I am an architectural student, desirous of prying into the methods of ancient builders. Later on I was going to trespass on Sir Jasper Fancourt’s good nature for leave to inspect the Hall for the same pur pcse.” ' ' “Sir Jasper Fancourt’s good nature,” Beryl repeated quaintly. “ A broken reed, Mr Vincent, I am afraid. My father’s nature, I should imagine, has all his life been bubbling in the crucible of chance—sometimes, as you politely put it, good—sometimes, the other thing. But if you will leave it to me I will take you round and show you the points of interest at the Hall. Knyvett’s flow of thanks was so profuse as to be incoherent. He had not yet reached the lofty pinnacle of detective are where its professors, when in danger of being mastered by excitement, veil their eyes under a glassy film. He was a neophyte at the trick of snapping his jaws Rather did he feel like a schoolboy into whose mouth ripe cherries are dropping and he behaved as such. For here, unsought, had come his way the means of fol lowing the wise advice of Miss Clayton to get in touch with the ladies oi the Hall. Beryl cut short his protestations with: I “ Here comes Mrs Snype. Just now, except on Sundays, she is acting as her husband’s deputy, and y„ou wih find her a most amiable person. She has been giving me an organ lesson. ’ The Rector’s wife came out of the church and joined them. An introduction having been effected, Knyvett pre ferred his request, thinking the whi’e that he had never seen a sadder face. “ By all means, Mr Vincent,” the gcod lady assured him. “My hus band could not possibly object.” 1 ‘ Without questioning your authority,” smiled Knyvett, “would it not be as well to refer the matter to him for sanction?” To Knyvett’s astonishment the simple suggestion seemed to striae terror to the soul of this gentle woman ol late middle age whose' usual expression was that of a ruminative cow. Sha had looked sad before; now she looked thoroughly scared. She could not have shown more pronounced signs of sheer physical dread if a skeleton had leapt from one of the surrounding graves to shake a grisly fist at her. “Oh no! Oh dear no!” came her feeble-forcible protest. “I couldn’t dream of doing that. You must really take my word for it that Godfrey Mr Snype—would be quite pleased for yo.i to do anything you like to —I mea-j in—the church. He is so interested i n ._er—was it architecture you men tioned?” After this there was nothing for Kyn-v-ett t'o do but to murmur some banality about regrets for being such a nuisance. He was debating whether to make his adieus and remain at the church, justifying his profession, when Mrs Snype solved the question by offering to take him and Miss Fancourt through the Rectory garden to the road. The agitated dame was evidently under the delusion that the pair were old acquaintances. Knyvett accepted eagerly, glad 'of the chance to improve the occasion With Beryl. ‘ I t’-nst that Mr Snype is not seriously ill,” sa.d he as they were crossing the Rectory lawn. The question seemed to cause discomfort_to the wife of the invalid. She Laired, .as though the better to consrler an answer, l:ci gaze unconsci'ous-

ly straying to a window on the ground floor of the house which was veiled by Venetian blinds, close drawn. “No—a,” the negation was emitted with a deep sigh. “ I don’t suppose it could be called serious. ■ He is suffering from gout in his eyes. I —ah —be-, lieve the malady is very painful. As he has to sit in a darkened room he is quite incapacitated from work. Fortunately Mr Willoughby is a most excellent cerate.” Knyvett, trying to probe the meaning of f hai curious “ I believe,” suddenly found his brain switched on to a more engrossing problem. For his gaze, following that of Mrs Snype to the study window, encountered a strange anomaly. Two of the slats in the Venetians had been parted and in the void thus created two miniature suns were shilling There was no need for the chief of ihe budding detective agency to store this phenomenon in .i mental niche for future ictueuce. Il shouted for instant explanation. Why should a clergyman, confined to a darkened room with painful gout in the eyes, be watching through a pair of binoculars, from the lenses of which the sunlight was flung back with dazzling radiance? CHAPTER XIV. INSPECTOR MABSKB’S RUSE. “ It would be affectation on my part, Miss Fancourt, to ignore the tragedy that has so recently befallen ytour family,” said Knyvett when he and Beryl had passed out of the Rectory gates on to the high road. ' l l feel a perfect brute for trespassing on your kindness at such a time.”

“ Do not let that distress you,” was the reply. “My mother and I grieve for po'or Hugh very sincerely—probably a good deal more than he would have grieved for either of us. But it would be hypocrisy to profess to be inconsolable. Anything that will distract our thoughts will help to restore our equanimity, and your professional interest in the Hall will come under that heading, Mr Vincent.” 1 ‘ I think that Fancourt Magna is full of the kindest people,” replied Knyvett warmly. “ Mrs Snype, too, was so nice to me, and she evidently echoed! what she knew would be her husband’s wishes. But what a woebegone face for a good woman who only lives to make others happy.”

Beryl’s reply hung fire a little. “ The Snypes are charming,” she said at length. “ The Rector is perhaps the more charming of the two. To see them together is a lesson in what mid-dle-aged married life should be. But I am worried about them just now, Mr Vincent. You are right about the sadness in Mrs Snype’s face, and I, who knew her so well, can see the makings of a nervous wreck. I am afraid that our trouble has upset the Rector and that his indisposition has reacted on his wife.” u I cannot pretend entire ignorance of the case,” Knyvett rejoined. “It stared at me from every newspaper one took up. Mr Snype refused to marry your brother to your maid, if I remember rightly? 7 ' I Continued in To-morrow’s issue.