“The Forbidden Tree,”

Wairarapa Daily Times, 1 April 1925, Page 7

“The Forbidden Tree,”

(PUBLISHED BY SPECLAL ARRANGEMENT.)

POWERFUL STORY OF ATTRACTIVE INTEREST,

By Christopher Wilson

Author of ‘‘Hearts in Bondage, ’’ “Sundered Lives/-’ “Blindfold Love/’ “The Heart of Delilah/’ etc., etc. (COPY EIGHT.)

CHAPTER I. THE THRESHOLD OP ADVENTURE. “Tony! Tony! 1 say, old man. do you know that it’s past eleven? 'lime for you to chuck work for to-night. ’ ’ The Honourable Brian Ansdell finished his observations with a yawn, leaned forward in his long chair, stabbed at the heart of the log fire, and then, poker still in hand, swung round for an answer. But from behind the closed door at the other side of the cosy living room of the little bungalow came no sound, except a curious tinkling of glass. For a moment Ansdell paused, then flinging himself back, with feet propped against the side of the big fireplace, and lazily slitting a large envelope with an ivory paper knife, he soliloquised for the benefit of the unseen “Tonv. ”

“Some blighters have truly remarkable ideas to the entertainment of their guests. Even if a chap has none of the instincts of a gentleman he might at leas) assume some of the manners of one.”

'Then lighting a cigarette’ lie gazed moodily at a water-colour representation of a lurid sunset which he had taken from the envelope. The flames roared hungrily in the grate, and as he poised the daub in his long sinewy fingers Ansdell wrestled with temptation.’ But lie flicked the painting into a large basket by his side, folded his hands behind Ins head, and gazed with a kind of rapture at the long row of feminine “studies” which adorned the mantelboard, just above the level of his slippers. “Some guests are not so bad at the art of entertaining themselves. Eh, Brian?”

Anthony Merrick had come noiselessly from the other room, and was looking down at the dreamer with a quiet twinkle in his grey eyes.

“By gad, you startled me, Tony. I never heard even the. click of that patent snap-latch that you have geared on to the door of your sacred ‘lab. ’ I thought you were still plugging away at your soul-destroying toil. Do you ever realise that, according to all orthodox theologians, it was the devil who was responsible for the introduction of all honest industry into the world?”

“Admirable sentiments for a man who has never done an honest day's work in his life,” said Merrick drily, as he moved over to the side of the fireplace and began to fill his pipe. . “Ye gods and little fishes-” exclaimed Ansdell, bringing his feet down with a crash against the fender, to emphasise liis flaming protest. “I had three years in Flanders mud, and ” “Liked it,” said Merrick, twisting a spill. “Then 1 trotted up and down the face of devastated Europe, to say nothing of bits of Asia and Africa, as a King’s Messenger, and ”

“Thoroughly enjoyed the holiday,” said Merrick.

“And for the last six months I have worked like a galley slave for the Cortin people. Foreign correspondent, twenty-third sub-sub-editor of the Empire Mail, and now, by the grace of old man Cortin himself, editor in chief of this piffling 'Fireside Magazine.’ And ever since dinner, while you were shut up with your bottled stinks, I have been ploughing through oceans of artistic atrocity in quest of a cover design for mv next month's ‘Fireside’.”

Merrick dabbed again at his pipe with the flaring spill of paper, then held it up towards the line of beautiful faces on the mantelboard. “Yes, it must have been a severe strain,” be said. “And a dangerous occupation for a susceptible chap like you, Brian. But I should hardly degrade it by the name of work. Got anything to suit?” “Rather!” said Ansdell, with'sudden animation, flinging out his hand towards the little gallery of pictures. “Look at that one, just in front of the clock. The tiling to suit? Absolutely IT, my dear fellow. Knew I had what I wanted the moment 1 glanced at it. Isn’t she a vision?” Tlie elder man took down the sketch and studied it silently with keen critical eves. Then, replacing it oil the mantelpiece lie said slowly, between puffs at his pipe:

“Yes, I suppose, ‘vision’ is the word. Very pretty, no doubt, as a vision. Features remarkably regular, hair quite attractive, lips such as you would probably describe as eminently kissablc, but I don’t like the eves.”

“Why man alive, her eyes are the most glorious thing about her,” Ans- j dell flamed out. ! “Gloriously—neurotic,” said Mer- j rick grimly. “All right in a vision, for visions are all neurotic, but I’d be a< bit sorry for the real girl, if she ex- j isted, I think.”

“Tonv, Tony, I declare that you are the most hopeless Philistine that ever lived,” groaned Ansdell. “Your passion for analysis is incurable.” “Why ask for my opinion, if you don’t want it?”

“ True;, O iv,an of science. I confess niyseif an ass for having sought in you for any glimmer of aesthetic appreciation. Isn't it tlie devil of a wild night out of doors? I hope this old bungalow of yours has solid foundations. How is your work going on ? Is the epochmaking invention of the twentieth century nearly ripe to be submitted to my Right Honourable uncle?” Anthony Merrick had gone over to a side table, and was about to dilute the contents of two glasses, but at Ansdell’s question he swung round with the siphon still in his hand and a sudden ilame of enthusiasm in his cyesT ‘‘Vos. I have nearly finished. I checked most of the calculations tonight and if a few more experiments fit m w'th the theory, mv work is done. I hack heaven, we have the right man in tin right place in this Government. Your Gorlin papers often jeered at Lord Grantham as a mere dilettante in scioncr, in the old days before it suited Curt in to ‘boom’ Granton as the Alan of Destiny in Imperial politics. But your uncle is a much bigger man than Curtin imagines, and in Lord Granion’s hands this Lethol fuel is going to revolnliorrse the entire world of British industry. Transport, factories, mires even the very engines in the basement of your friend Cortin 's palace of journalism in Fleet street will all be——”

stopped abruptly and the siphon slipped frojn his hand with a crash, as a sharp report rang out, cutting in upon the howling noises of the storm that raged around the lonely bungalow.

“ What the deuce ” he began, and then stopped again. “A revolver shot. Probably an auto-

Who is there?” he called loudly

(To be Continued.)

mafic pistol of small calibre,” said Ansdell, who was already at the window, peering into the outer datkness. Bis indolent lethargy had suddenly slipped from him like a. discarded garment, and as he stood there, gripping tlm thick curtain, every fibre in bis Jitlie body was tense and alert. “Switch out tiie lamp, Tony. Look sharp!’’ he commanded, still rigid in his listening attitude. But before Merrick hud time to obey there came a thunderous knocking at Hie outer door, and the two men stared at each other in bewildered surprise. Then Ansdell spoke again. “Got a gun of any kind in the house?”

Merrick shook his head. “No. 1 suppose one ought to have some kind of ” “Never mind,” interrupted Ansdell, with, the same note of command in his voice. “You stand by your precious irear in the ‘lab.’ while I interview the crowd who are m .king all this row.” Then, while the battering upon the fiont dcor was repeated, Merrick disappeared niio the adjoining room, and Arsdc 11, after a swift glance round, grasped ihe short, pointed, steel poker, and went out into the hall.

But the only reply was the renewed clangour of the heavy knocker upon the oaken door.

“Steady, there! Steady, I say!” Ansdell shouted, as he drew the iron bolt and slid the knob of the door chain out of its groove. Then, just as his hand was upon the latch, a terrific blast wrenched the door open with a crash and sent him staggering against the wall. For one brief instant the swing lamp in the hall glared up furiously, so that Ansdell caught a momentary glimpse of a. shapeless figure that seemed to have two heads, outlined in the doorway against the blackness of the night. Then, just as he recovered his balance, another tierce gust extinguished the light in the hall and also in the dining room, tearing down a picture from the Avail at his side as it swept past. He sprang forward, straining with both hands to close the door in the teeth of the gale, but in the darkness something jostled roughly against him, and when at last he succeeded in shooting tlie bolts, he was certain that someone had forced an entrance. Three swift strides took him to the threshold of the dining room, but there he halted abruptly, gazing in amazement at the picture revealed by the red, flickering Jight of the logs in the grate.