“The Man Who Paid,”

Wairarapa Daily Times, 5 January 1926, Page 7

“The Man Who Paid,”

(PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.)

FASCINATING ROMANCE BY A POPULAR WRITER,

By Pierre Costello, Author of "A Sinner in Israel, Tainted Lives, ” "The Money Master,’ ’ etc., etc.

(COPYRIGHT.)

CHAPTER XVl.—Coninue I. Grace fount!-nothing to say. She stood and looked at him, and stronger than tire comfort that she found in-his synipathj-, even in his love, was some nameless fear that rose up in her and bade her to forbid him to join his life with hers in any way, lest he come to harm. "Don’t,’’ she said firmly. "You

mustn’t talk like that! Truly, you cannot help me, Shean. I think you. are right. I think you had better go away at once. But you mustn't think that my husband makes me unhappy—not in the way you think. It is better that I should work hard. Ho knows that, and so do I. I can’t explain to-you. but there are circumstances .that make our life what it is. We cannot help ourselves. I should not be happier anywhere else. Please understand that!”

"But I want you to be happy! ” lie ■cried passionately. "Your happiness is the only thing I eaTC about in tlpi world. I would willingly die if it could make you happy. That is the solemn truth. I would be happy to die —Imppier to die than to live.” "You dear boy,” she said, beneath her breath. And an immense sadness filled her heart, she knew not why.

The next moment she was smiling and saving, with a very well-simulated gaiety:

"1 say, jve mustn't get morbid like this. It must be the weather, I think. I really am heartbroken (about the chickens. I was ,so proud of thorn.”

"It’s an awful shame,” lie answered lightly. And then he added hastily: "I don’t want to be morbid, Airs Rivett. And, if there is nothing I can do for you. I think I would rather go away at once. I'll tell your husband. He has been awfully kind to me, but reaily I couldn’t be fitter than I am, and I'm longing to get out to Africa.” "Xonuan is going with you. Hasn’t lie told you?”

“Yes, he did say something about it. Jiist- before Christmas lie wants to •start. But there are a few things I ought to see to first, and I want to say good-bye to some old friends.” So, talking in the most ordinary way, they walked back to the barn, and to pass the time Glyn swept away the mud from the front of the building, while Grace went into the little kitchen to make some cakes. CHAPTER XVII.

On the following day Grace was again confronted with the spare figure and the strange, half-attractive, halfrepellent face of Edwin Stroud. She had gone across the hills to Mrs Jones's cottage. Airs Jon.cs’3 youngest bov was ill with pneumonia, and in those remote valleys no comforts were available, so Grace had taken some jelly and broth that she had made with her own hands.

Just in the same place, ns.-sho was qbont to turn off from the village street up the mountain path, she came face t r, fate with Edwin Stroud.

As before, he raised hie hat and greeted her with a bow of almost exaggerate d cou rt csy. "We have not met as soon as I had hoped we should, Airs Rivett,” he said.

"1 had intended to come over to sec your husband, but was prevented.”

Grace answered with a few conventional words. Her first impression of instinctive dislike had been naturally strengthened by Joseph’s mysterious behaviour. But, as Stroud went on speaking, she was seized with an active intolerance of any association with him. His sombre eyes rested on her with what she could only regard as supreme insolence.

"And has your husband told you anything, about me —about our relations in the past, Airs Rivett?” he asked her.

"Certainly not,” she said coldly. "Aly husband does not know that I have met you.” "Ah, you are discreet! Perhaps it is! as well. We are not the best of friends.” , Something in liis} voice increased her distrust and fear. It had the note of a man in sickness; it was unconnected, undisciplined. She remembered her father talking in the delirium of fever once. It sounded like that.

" You are unhappy,” he went on. "I can see that. You are a miserable woman. It is not to be wondered at.” "What do you mean?” she asked indignantly. "Your husband i,s not a man to make a woman happy, Airs Rivett. It is a shame you should be unhappy. The second woman to suffer at has hands.”

His eyes seemed to look through her. They glowed with an unholy flame-. “ You are young and beautiful. You must not be unhappy. It is ones’ duty to save you from unhappiness.’’ He spoke as if to himself. It came to her that he wa-s mad, and that was the meaning ot' Joseph’s concern.

“Good -afternoon!” she said, and turned quickly up the path. But' something forced her to look back, and his gaze was following her, piercing, wild and terrible. He looked after her, £ tending mo ti on 1 ess. “Joseph,’ ’she -said, “I am going to tell Mr Rivett about this Mr St-roud. I met him again to-dnv, and I think he is mad. lam afraid of him, and I must tell your master.”

“Mot ou your life, ma’am —not on your life!” urged the man, with such solemn insistence that it impressed her. “Then, Joseph, you must toll me what you know about him. I insist. Otherwise I shall tell your master tonight. Did Mr Stroud know Mr Riv-ett’-s first wife?” Joseph looked at her helplessly, and then he said: “Edwin Stroud is the man whom Mr

(To be Gontinued.)

Rivett's first wife took up with, ma’am.” “But he is dead!” Grace whispered. "No. ma'am. We thought he was. And my master doesn't know that lie’s alive now. That’s what scares me. Those marks on Stroud's face were put on him by my master —and rightly .put on him, ma ’am, l'or what man worthy of the name would spare the mail who stole liis wife? But I’m full of fear for •what would happen if they came across each other. I’m that, full of fear I can’t rest night or day.” Once Joseph ascertained that Grace knew all about his master’s first wife and the tragedy of her death, all his mysterious secretiveness vanished. He poured out his fears, with pathetic haste and eagerness. "She treated my master shamefully, ma’am,” ho said. "She deserved her end if ever a woman did, and that black-hearted Stroud lie deserved more and much more than what he got. Aly master’s life was a. misery. And him that proud, and his pride being humbled in the dust every day!” "A*es, Joseph, yes, it mush have been terrible,” Grace agreed. She wondered why her own heart yearned to her husband, longed to make up a little for what he had suffered. It must be wrong. He had shed blood. If she i ad been a bad woman, that made no difference. It was not for him to take justice into his own hands. Vengeance was God’s. That was the unalterable law. The knowledge of it was in her blood and she could not abjure it. So her heart must bleed for him and her soul must agonize. But she could not take her heart and lay it in his hand and say: "Here am I. I accept you as -you are. Let us -live and love and forget the past.” That was impossible, although she longed to do it. In her sorrow for him she had for the moment forgotten that he believed her guilty of shameful conduct, and that, in his bitterness, lie had insulted her beyond

She found Joseph’s eyes fixed upon her in sympathy. Quite suddenly he had become her humble servant. He found that she knew of the dark chaprev. She was on his master ’s side. She was one with him in wishing to guard her husband against the re-opening oi the old wound.

" Your master must go away,” she said. • •• He must go away at once. I quite sec that they must not meet. I think Mr Stroud is mad.” "I don't disbelieve it,” Joseph muttered. “mad with his own wickedness.” "You know, Joseph, Air Rivett is going away before Christmas? I mean, we are going altogether.” "He hadn’t told me so,” said Joseph. _ . “And iio is going out to Africa with Air Glyn.” "He hadn't told me "so,” repeated Joseph, obviously slightly incredulous. "It is quite true. He has only just made up his mind.” The man looked deeply wounded by this lack of confidence on flic part of tlie being who was to him as a god. Grace saw this and said kindly: "I am sure ho will talfe you/ Joseph. He wouldn’t go to Africa without you.” "He might leave me to look after you, ma’am,” said the man, and his dejection was almost teoniic in its sincerity.

"I won’t let him, Joseph,” she ans wered brightly. 1 1 You shall go. I pro mise you I can look after myself.”

"Alaybc you’ll come, too, ma’am,” he suggested with a sudden inspiration. "A lady like you, ma’am, would stand the life out there well —a hardy, useful lady. Why, ma’am, you're almost as good as a man.” Gi’aee smothered her laughter. She well knew that this was the highest compliment Joseph could pay her. And so they had suddenly become comrades. "Ala’am,” said Joseph, "get my master away at once.” “I will do my best,” she answered. “I will say that I want to go, that I don’t feel well, that the place doesn’t suit me. Yes, Joseph, I will do my very best.” ' ’ CHAPTER XVI IT. 'Grace found that no .diplomacy was necessary on her part. When Rivett eauie back, just before dinner-time, he said to her: "Grace, I find I have to go to London for a few days.- The men have struck water just under the foundations. I .must have expert advice on the matter. There would isocm to be a small lake. I shall have to see two or three people. I cannot go away for the winter without finding out exactly what difference this may make to the plans. Glyn has been telling me that he wants fo get off at once to fix up his things and say some good-byes. But I have asked him to wait until I come back. ’ ’

.“Oli!” said Grace- quickly, “ couldn't wo all go? J. moan —couldn't 1 come, too?”

“Well, I want to come back for another ten days,-” he replied. “ Of course you -could come. But 1 want to get off at once, to-night, and travel light.”

“I see. Well, Shean can go with you, Xorman. He -wants to get off,

“I want him to-stay with you,” said Eivett decidedly. “But I shall be quite all right.”