"Held in Ransom,"

Wairarapa Daily Times, 6 December 1926, Page 7

"Held in Ransom,"

-BYGERALD CUMBERLAND. Author of “The Cypress Chest,” -‘Set Down in Malice,” "The Prisoner,” etc., etc.

(COPYRIGHT.) _____

Cl IA FT E R VII — Continued. Bhe struggled to her feet, though the effort to do so made her terribly faint. ‘‘None of that, now!” said the woman,'firmly, and trying to keep down her anger. ‘‘ We don’t want any fuss here! ” She also had risen to her feet. She •pushed Audrey back on to the sofa. Audrey made a feeble attempt to resist her, but the woman, changing her tactics, struck her a heavy blow upon her breast, and bent over her in anger.

‘‘Be quiet —you little fool! What did I tell you.' You behave yourself, and you'll be treated all right. But we’ll stand no nonsense here. If you won't keep quiet, I’ll make you. Understand?”

This unaccustomed harshness and cruelty drove Audrey to tears. Her brain was all dazed and bewildered. Bhe seemed t'o be living in a nightmare. Perhaps, soon, she would wake up. But no! It was all horribly real. These appalling things were all truly happening.

Her eyes were misty with tears that ran down her cheeks.. But she did not cry out: only an occasional sob, all the more dreadful because it was suppressed, shook her delicate young body. She felt lost and abandoned. Oh! if only; she could understand! She felt no physical pain from the blow the woman had given her, but she felt spiritually outraged by it. Jt seemed to hint at base cruelties and wickedness that-' she had never even dreamed of. Shu closed her eyes and tried to think, but rational, consecutive thought was impossible. But, as the minutes went by, shß contrived to get more control over herself, and gradually her sobbing ceased. Shu resolved to remain quiescent and obedient for the time being, in the hope that a chance of escape might arise. No doubt, if she appeared to her captors to be accepting her lot, this watchfulness over her would relax. She was by no means without either spirit or cleverness. As she lay on the sofa, conjecturing reasons for her capture and imprisonment, the door opened, and a man entered. lie had both the appearance and the manner of a gentleman. His tall, well-made 'body was clad in clothes cut in the latest fashion; his dark aristocratic features were alive with intelligence; his small, beautifully shaped handso w;ere the hands of an artist.

He bowed to Audrey before addressing tile woman, who, at - his entrance, hltd risen respectfully to her feet. ‘‘ls your visitor quite comfortable, Miss Poole?” he asked.

‘‘Quite, sir, I believe.” “Has she given you any trouble?” “Nothing to speak of. At lirst she seemed disinclined to obey me, but she is quiet enough now.” “Good.”

lie walked over to the sofa and scanned Audrey’s features with curiosity.

“1 want you to understand, Miss Stansmorc,” he said, ‘‘that you are not now in any danger, nor will you be so long as you remain pur guest—that is to say, if you obey, implicitely and immediately, any orders that are given to you. But if you resist—if you show the slightest inclination to be intractable —it will go very hard with you. ’ ’

Audrey stared up into his handsome face as ho spoke to her. It was a face that both attracted and. repelled. It had the severe, regular 'beauty of Grecian statuary, but there was something somewhere —was it. in his eyes?—that spoke of evil. Yet she was fascinated. Jlis bright, vehement gaze plunged into her own with a naked power. Hypnotic eyes they were —compelling, irresistible* She tried to avert her gaze, but could not. , “You understand?” lie asked, smiling faintly. ‘‘Yes, I understand.” •His smile, somehow, had* reassured her. It seem to her to be kind, and for a moment it effaced the curious impression she had received from his eyes. Quickly she resolved to appeal to him—she might touch the chivalrous heart of a man, though she ad failed to arouse te sympathy of the woman. “Won’t you tell me why I have 'been brought here, Mr—Mr —?” she asked. “ Youles is my name, Miss Stansmore. You have been brought here—well, for Various reasons, but I’m-afraid I can’t disclose to you what they are. But rest assured that no harm shall come to*you —I. give you my word on that point.” “But I’m not thinking of myself,” she protested earnestly. “I’m bothered about my uncle, and about my friend, Mr Mitchell. They’ll be horribly anxious when .they find I’m missing. Yow see, Mr Youles, I’m going to marry Mr Mitchell.” “Yes, yes, Miss Stansmore. They’ll be anxious for a little while, no doubt, but they’ll know you are safe.” “But can’t you let them know where I am ! ’ ’ Bernard Youles smiled at the innocence and unconscious humour of her question. “I’m. afraid not, Miss Stansmore. I’m afraid that would rather complicate matters. “But I can’t understand! Oil, Mr Vouels—do let me go home! I have never 'harmed von—why should you wish to harm me? 1 should be grateful to vou for ever—”

She had risen to her feet in her eagerness; she. was all a-tremlde with mingled hope and fear. BiH Youles, putting out' his hand as though to calm her, interrupted her wiyh a few soothing words. “Steady there, Mbs Stansmore.

Don't lose control over yourself.” He had fixed his gazp upon hers. The magnetic look of his eyes seemed to calm her in a moment. They were at once powerful and peaceful, am] as she stared at them fixedly, she began to wonder how she had ever imagined them to bo cruel. She seemed to lose her identity; all her fears and distress fell from her.

“That’s right,” he said, “you are calmer already. You are getting quite sleepy. Every moment you are getting sleepier and sleepier. When I have counted ten you will be fast asleep, and you won’t waken until the morning.” He counted slowly and softly —one, two, three, until lie had reached ten. As he pronounced the word “.ten,’’ her eyes, which had'been getting heavier and heavier every moment, closed. Her breath was slow and regular. He had hypnotised her into a deep and dreamless sleep-. “So that’s that,” he said turning to the woman. “ You will have no further trouble. There’s no need for you to remain with her, but if you leave the room, you had better lock the door and come every two hours or so to see that everything’s nil right. The motorcar will be round at midnight preciseIv.”

Jt was as Youlcs had said. Audrey slept soundly through that, eventful night. At midnight she was carried from, the house and placed in a luxurious motor-car —the same that, in the early hours of the same day, had carried Princess Warenski away from the Temple. The ear carried her, Miss Poole, Bernard Youles and ancAher man to one oT the quieter, but very sordid districts of Whitechapel. It stopped at a small house in a row —stopped for a few seconds only, for the two men, supporting Audrey, one’on each side, rushed, her speedily through the entrance, the door of which had been opened from the inside at the very moment, the car* had come to a halt. She awoke early in the morning soon after sunrise, and found herself in a darkened room. A few rays of light filtered through the barred and locked shutters, and she was just able to see her surroundings. The room, though plainly 'furnished, was uncomfortable. By the side of the •bed was a small bookcase filled with light literature, mostly novels. An oldfashioned sofa was placed against the wall farthest from the door, there were couple of easy chairs; and on the table near the darkened window was a large bowl of flowers —narcissi, jonquils and early roses.

She took in tense details with a sweeping glance before her half-wak-ened senses realised that this was not the room in which she had fallen asleep. Then, with a suddenness that was like a blow, she became aware that, while slept, she had been removed from one room to another, but the possibility never occurred to her Chat she had been taken from one part of London to another. With a bound she was out of bed. She was still in evening-dress, but her clothes had been unloosened in order to give her more ease as she slept. She crept round the room in Imi- bare feet; she was full of bewilderment and foreboding. The events of the previous evening seemed far, far away—like a dream that is half-forgotten. What had happened? What, even now, was happening? Why had they taken her? Who had .taken her? Where tvas Prank? What was going to be done with her?

These and many other questions rushed through her mind, but she could find no answer to any of them. Once more, she felt an almost ungovernable desire to cry out —to scream out some of the pent-up anxiety and apprehension that tortured her. diver so silently, she turned the handle of the door; but the door was locked. Of course! Then she thought of running to the shutters of the window and banging upon them with her lists with all her might. But to wliat purpose? Could anything be gained by this? No. On iho contrary. She had been assured both by Mr Youles and .Miss Poole that she would be treated kindly—that no manner of harm ’would come to her —so long as she was quiet and Obedient. XoTTlio way to escape was surely to appear to remain content with her lot, and to watch and wait until -perhaps some careelssness on the part of her gaolers afforded an opportunity of getting away. On tin- table she noticed a spirit lamp and all the materials for making tea. She lit the lamp, placed the little kettle over theTjTue'fimc, and sat down to ponder over her fate. A pretty clock on the mantlepiece struck five. (To be Continued.)