"The Splendid Sacrifice,”

Wairarapa Daily Times, 8 February 1926, Page 7

"The Splendid Sacrifice,”

(PUBLISHED,BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT,) .... FASCINATING LOYE STORY BY* A CHARMING WRITER,

30 By J. B. Harris-Burland, Author of “The Half-Closed Door,” “The Black Moon,” “The Felgate Taint,” “The Poison League,” etc., etc.

(COPY RIGHT.}

CHART PR AT.-—Continued. “A blackmailer,” she answered in :i low voice, and it seemed to her that some power was forcing her to siiei.c: a train st- her will. “A blackmailer?” (jueried Britton. “But, Mary, dear, what on earth — What do you mean, Man-?’’ “J have tried to keep it all from you,’’ she continued in a curiously level voice. “It was before .1 married you —I should have told you alt about it. But 1 was a. coward —end now I must toll you, or Li-shall ruin you —I want your help.’’ She paused, and then suddenly she cried out passionately, “Oh, .1 have wanted your help ail along, and yet I dared not tell you.’’ “But now, dearest, you will tell me everything,” he said gently. y Mary was silent. Her mind was calmer. Though she had confessed nothing, she felt as though she had confessed everything. Her mind swung Thick to its even balance, and she suddenly saw the whole situation clearly—as one sees things clearly after rain. She saw that she would either have to tell him the whole truth, or nothing at all. To accuse herself of the theft would be to inflict upon him a most horrible punishment, to strike down the man she loved with a lie. And yet she could not tell him the whole truth. Even to her husband she could not give away Joan’s secret. She struggled to free herself fioni his arms, and he let go of her. She sprang to her feet, and cried out: “Don’t ask me —don’t ask me. 1 can’t tell you—l can’t—l can’t. It’s no good asking me. .I've been mad to say anything. ’ He did not move. He still knelt there by the fire. His hands were clasped together on his -breast. Ills head was bowed. His lips did not move, but she fancied that he was praying, and sho saw him kneeling there. She was torn between the desire to set his mind at rest—and to find her own peace and happiness—and the instinctive feeling that it would be mean and dishonourable to give away her sister’s secret.

“There is a burglar in the library, Simpson,” said Sir Richard, speaking as quietly as though ho ,wer.e givingorders about a suit of clothes. “You will rouse the butler, and all the footmen. You will kindly dress yourselves and look sharp about it. You will make no noise and wait in the hall, behind the oak screen. 1 may not want your help, but if I do, .you must be there to come to my assistance. Look sharp, and put on rubber-soled shoes, if you .have them. If you haven’t, go down in your socks.”

Arthur Britton rose to his feet . “I want to take this burden from your shoulders,” he said simply, Mary shook her head. “Not now —not. yet,” she faltered. “I was mad —1 have been talking nonsense.”

“You’d rather I went and got the ruth out of this —Mr. Smith.”

A quick gleam of hope came into his gyes. That- would be the best solution, after- all. She would not be forced to tell her husband a lie. This Mr. Smith would not mention Joan. As for herself, she would not have to confirm or deny the statements of c blackmailer. It would bo easy enough foilier husband to verify them '“I caii’-t tell you nothing,” she*'said, after a long silence. “ You must do as you please about Mr. Smith.” She left the room, and Arthur Britton pressed his hands to his eyes. It was almost as though his faith in God had been shattered. “HeT 'lover?” he said to himself, and then aloud, “No, r.o—not that not that. ’ ’ But the poison in his blood. He left the house, and walked mile after mile until at last he flung himself down on the wet- grass o-f the field and buried his face in his arms. He did not return home until after midnight. CHAPTER NIT. Sir Richard Pynson heard the loud ivhii-r of a bell—heard it in his sleep, •as part of a dream in which he was driving a motor-ear fiercely through a crowded street. It wai the alarm of a train bell, and the great bulk of the tram was bearing down on him, threatening to crush him between iiis own tall side and a tremendously high stone wall. He gave a cry of terra” and woke. And the .bell was still ringing—a small bell close to the head of his bed. There was a few moments of inaction —while lie was still dazed with sleep. Then ho sprang out of -bed. The bell was an alarm, .connected with numerous fine wires buried in the floor of the library, and joined up with the interior of the safe. It was only necessary for a burglar to stand near the. safe, and touch it with his hands, for the circuit to be completed. iS-ir Richard touched the mechanism of the bell, and the sound ceased. He had no wish to rouse his wife, who was sleeping in the adjoining room. The door between the two rooms was closed, but it was a thin door —a modern piece o-f work. * -Sir Richard did not hurry himself. There was plenty of time, for the most 'expert burglar in the world could not have opened that safe in •’ ss than two hours, unless he had the key-woril to the combination. Sir Richard put on a “sweater,” a. coat, and a pair of trousers. He even put on his socks and boots, for he had heard stories of a bare footed man being absolutely at the mercy of a burglar who had escaped from the house. Ono cannot cross open country with bare feet or even in a pair of bedroom slippers. So Sir I Richard put on his boots of white ■buckskin, soled with in din rubber, and fastened the laces tightly. Then lie opened a drawer, anil took out an automatic pistol and an electric toureh. He tested the light of the toureh, and pulled out the. clip from the pistol, to see if there were ip'entv of cartridges in it. He remembered a very notable (burglary, where the owner of the house Ihad been killed, because an accomplice of the burglar, a servant in the house, had previously removed all the cartridges, and rendered the pistol useless. It was characteristic of Sir Richard

Simpson, a thin, sallow-ieatured man with black hair, shivered. “What about defending, ourselves, sir'?”'-he asked. “Oh, take a stick, a poker—anything. But don’t worry about that; I’m armed. The man c-an’t escape unless he shoots me, and if that happens, one of you can pick up my pistol. ’ ’ Simpson took liis departure. Sjutbßiehard Py-nson smiled as lie thought of the burglar working so swiftly and <«irefill ly -on the great steel mass of the safe. Perhaps there were two, eleven three of them. lie would have locked the door. But there was another door, concealed behind one of the bookshelves. He could open .that, remove a few of the books and watch them at their work.. There would be a light .in the library. They could not work in darkness. It would t;iko them at least two hours to open the safe, and not -until they had opined it, would they see the. wires that had given the alarm. “Someone had got wind of the jewels,” he said to himself, as lie sat on the edge of his bed. It seemed to him unlikely that a burglar would take the trouble to open the safe of a country gentleman unless the man knew that there was something of value in it. Sir Richard’s mind Vent back to the night when the young footman had seen the ghost. No doubt the ghost was in the library at that very moment. The plans had been laid far ahead.

He went to the door between his wife’s bedroom and his own, ail’d turned the handle. The door was locked, and he smiled grimly. . Tliqy had .quarrelled.at dinner that.Rvenja.ig,..and she had locked the door against, him.

“She’s like a peevish -child,” he thought tenderly; and then there was a gentle knock on his own door, and when he opened it he saw Daniels, the young footman, standing outside. “Are you all ready?” said Sir Richard.

“Yes, sir.” “Then get along with you. Seen that ghost again?” “No—no, -sir.”

iSflr Richard smiled, and stood by the door of his .bedroom, listening. He scarcely heard a sound as his men went down to the ground floor of the house.

Tynon that he -Rent so deliberately to

(To be Continued.)

work, when there vrr.n no need for lusti’ iSoine men would have rushed downstairs in their pyjamas, and placed themselves at a disadvantage. But Sir Richard knew that he had-plenty of time, and lie had not even forgotten his braces. lie poured a little whisky into a tumbler, added an equal amount of water, and drank the mixture. He was not in need of Dutch courage, but it was a cold night, and the chase might take him far from home. Then lie rang the bell for his valet, and a few minutes later the man appeared, very sleepy, and wearing one of Sir Richard’s old dressing-gowns-.

He waited for a minute then lie made his way to the big arched door of the library. He did not intend to enter by that door, but he wished to see if it were locked. To his surprise lie saw the key on the outside of the door. “The men must be mad.” he sai.l to himself, and then he remembered that burglars, in their has 1 - 1, 'ofto 1 overlooked important details of their work. iMany a thief and many a murdbrer too, had been arrested owing to some act of sheer carelessness —some .blunder that had seemed almost impossible. Sir Richard hesitated for a moment, and then he took Hold of the key, and drew it softly out of the lock. It seemed obvious to him that the door was not locked, with the thief on the other side of it. His theory was quite correct. He turned the handle, entered the room, and. switched on -ill the electric lights. From where he stood, lie could see -the safe, but there was no one in the room. There was no place where any mail could have hidden h.mself, no curtains, no protesting wings of bookcases, no settees or chairs with high upholstered backs. The apartment was monastic in its simplicity, riven the safe itself provided no hiding-place, for it stood in a corner.

Sir Richard -stared at the empty room for a few seconds, and then lie laughed. He appreciated the humour of the situation, and lie wondered if some rat, or perhaps even a mouse, had completed tlu' circuit and rung the bell. He locked the door, however) and searched the apartment, with his pistol in his hand. The door of the safe was closed, and the letters on the dials were just as he lrad left them —A.B.C. D.E. lie removed some -books from a certain shelf, felt for a small knob, pressed it, and swung out a section of The hookca-e into the room. Then he switched on his electric torch, and entered a very small ro:m, 1 -indowless, and c-.'ompidtely empty. TTe went to the door, and found it locked. The key was in his pocket. This was the way bv which he had intended to enter the librarv and surprise the burglars. No one else had entered or left by this room. The dust was thick on the float, and no one had walked across it.