“A Girl of Grit.”

Wairarapa Daily Times, Volume 48, Issue 14610, 8 March 1922, Page 7

“A Girl of Grit. ”

Author By BIRTH SCOTT, of “The Riddle of Gordon Square,” “The Bramley Heir,' ‘Kitty Kingston's Heritage,” etc.

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

DOMESTIC STOHY OF LOVE AND MYSTEBY,

; COPYRIGHT.)

CHATTER \!.Y. -Continual. Like a maniac Clouston raged from room to room, running from one top light to the other in his terrified abandon, and realising clearer every second that he was. as helpless as a rat caught in a trap. There was no means of escape, no hope of breaking free from the prison which was a veritable living tomb to him. (Jnec ids eye caught sight of the taps in th e bathroom, and he rushed to them —at least he would not die of thirst. He made to turn on the first he touched. It would not move, and he sprang to another. That moved. He turned it feverishly till it was open to its full limit. But there was no water. Across his quivering brain there came a mental picture of himself as he had been the night before, sitting in comfort and case thinking how thirst, if it came to ihs captive, would add its own argument to convince her of the folly of resistance.

Of course there was no water. The tap he had tried to turn was the one he had tested when he took the place. He readied across to it, and tried to turn it the other way. It moved at

once. It was the tap he had turned on and left turned on lest by any chance there should be water com e into tho cistern, so that it could run away and insure 'his prisoner having the torture of unslaked thirst during her incareera t ion.

Everything lie had clone under the influence of his heartless scheming had recoiled upon himself. As the sun went down and the gloom deepened around him he began to feel the pangs of hunger and of thirst. ITo could not rest. There was no place where he could sit, save ou the floor, so lie prowled from room to room like a snared wild beast, gnashing his teeth and reviling himself and all else in his helplessness and fear. The sound of a footstep on the roof above bis head came to him as a veritable token of salvation.

With a wild shrill cry for help he rushed under the great top light m the studio, leaping and yelling to attract the attestion of the man he heard.

Against the pale grey of the starlit sky he saw through the glass a. form loom dimly. There was a creaking as one side of the window frame was raised.

reached the Towers an hour before her appointed time. She found Mansfield already at work in his private room.

“This is unexpected,” lie said, as lie greeted her. ‘ l l suppose it is the result of Donegal’s visit to you?” •How do you know he paid me a visit?” she asked quickly. “]. was just writing to tell you,” he answered lightly, “lie came in last night, saw the Earl, toid him his daughter had run away to you, and then went away by the evening train —1 guessed ho would give you a call as soon as iie reached town.”

“Did he tell you his daughter was with me?”

“Tell me? My dear, ho was all starch and hauteur to me, but he told the old boy, who promptly told me. What have you done with her?” “1 have not seen her —has she really run away?” “Well, she has vanished somewhere, though whether she has run away or not 1 can’t say. There was a fine flare up last night after Colton came in. lie >} “Where is he?” she asked.

“In bed and probably asleep,” he answered. “Colton’s intellect belongs to that order which requires a great deal of sleep ami rest—particularly in the morning. It is an absolute undertaking for him to get out of bed before eleven oclock —almost as hard as it is for him to go to bed before two or three in the morning.” “Where was he yesterday afternoon —.say about three o’clock?” she asked impatiently.

“About three?? He was with me at half-past two, and was due at the Cottage soon after three —he was probably between the two places.” “ You are quite sure?” “Of course I am. Why?” “You are sure he was not at Farloigh?” He looked at her in surprise.

“My dear Ray, what has put an idea of that sort into your head? Colton was not within twenty miles of Farleigh any time during yesterday,” he said. “I have seen a telegram, bearing his name, sent off from Farleigh soon after three yesterday afternoon,” she exclaimed. A sudden alertness came to his face. “Who showed you that?” ho asked. “Was it Clouston?” ‘‘ It. was. ’ ’ Mansfield loaned back in his chair and laughed heartily. “You’re a ripping smart woman, you know, Ray,” he cried. “You came down her to see whether 1 was playing square or crooked, did you not?” She pursed her lips and nodded.

“lii, my man, hi!” Clouston cried. “I've locked myself in. Get down and open my dmr. I’ll pay you well, very well. I’ll give you a sovereign. Lower a piece of string if you have any, and I’ll tie the key to it. Quickly! Don’t waste any time. I’ve been here all day without either food or water. The, door slammed and caught me.” The man raised tha frame sufficiently for him to put his head through. “Let me out, there’s a good fellow. Have you got a piece of string or shall I throw tho key up 10 you?? The door is the only one on the top landing—you cannot mistake it—and I’ll pay you well, very well, indeed. A sovereign is worth earning, isn’t it, my man?” He waited for the man to answer, but no words came from him, no sound in response. He hung over the edge of the opened window without a movement, apparently staring down into the darkness below from whence Clouston looked up, himself invisible. “Don’t you hear what I say, my man? Don’t you want to cam a sove. eign?” he cried impatiently. ‘Throw the key up,” came in a husky voice, and Clouston clambered on to the stove so as to' be nearer the opening, through which he jerked the key. It fell on the roof, and the form of tho man disappeared as he went to pick it up. In a moment he was back. “You’re sure this is the right key?” he asked. “Quite sure, quite sure,” Clouston answered sharply. “It is the only one there is, so 1 could not make a mistake.”

‘l’m glad to hear it,” the man said in a clearer tone. “Now you arc absolutely safe. I am going to keep you here'till I want you. I will come and see you in the morning—ten o’clock is your favourite hour, is it not? iou know who I am, dont’ you?” Know who he was? Clouston’s brain felt as though it would burst. “Carlo Rivanti you have known mo to be called; also Tintori, the artist. It was so kind of you to bring Miss Donegal to see me. Y’ou wil be pleased to hear she is very well and hapy. We are going to Ilitherwood to-morow, —L am going to call on my father and introduce her to him. I shall also see my half-brother, who, I believe, is a friend of yours. Have you any message you would like me to take to him?” CHAPTER NX.

Lady Molly did not let the grass grow under her feet before she took detimv. action to prove or disprove the story (Houston had told her. The more she considered the matter after he had left her the more sceptical she became as to the accuracy of the statements. Certainly the telegram he had produced might have been sent by Lord Colton, but. then, on the other hand, it might not, and as any person could have put the name at the end of the message, it was not -so convincing to a person of her astuteness as it might have been to one less versed in the methods of intrigue. In any ease, no harm could come of personal investigation, she told herself. Before retiring for the night she wrote out a telegram addressed to Mansfield, the Earl’s private secretary, and told the servant to see that it was seat off the first thing; in the morning. It was brief, formal and uninstructivc to any casual reader, just the few words, “Arriving before eleven,” with the name Rachael at the end. She also left an order for her ear to be at the door by half-past seven, and told the main to cal her in time for an early start. (Houston she did not expect to call before, noon, if then. If the telegram were genuine he would not be able to do so; if it were not genuine he would take good care, not to. In the meantime her powerful car would carry her down to Ihc headquarters of the enemy —a headquarters she commanded through the services of a thoroughly reliable spy who was none other than the diplomaticprivate secretary of the Ear!. That he had Jailed to notify her either of the absence or expected absence of Colton from the Towers was one of the main reasons for her suspecting the accuracy of (Houston’s story. Mansfield would piace himself in an entirely false position were her to have failed to inform her of such an important item o. lews, especially at such a critical juncture. A flying visit would therefore have, the added value of stimulating his attention to all the happenings he was paid so well to report. Her car mado excellent running on the way down from town, so that she

?To be Oantlnnoa.}