“Held in Ransom,”

Wairarapa Daily Times, 7 December 1926, Page 7

“Held in Ransom,”

—BY—GERALD CUMBERLAND. Author of ‘•The Cypress Chest,” “Set Down in Malice,” “The Prisoner,” etc., etc.

(COPYRIGHT.)

CHAPTER Vll—Continued. She soon discovered that the more slu* thought of herself and recent happenings', fho more despondent sue became. This would nev'fr do. She must rouse herself. This she did, taking off her clothes, putting on the pyjamas that were lying neatly folded at the foot of the bed; then getting back into bed. Leaning against the heaped-ap pillows, she sipped her tea, and eventually sank into a gentle sleep. At eight o’clock, she was still drowsy, though she stirred herself when Miss 'Poole entered with her breakfast and unlocked the top part of the shutters, letting in a flood of light. The woman brought her a plain frock and some underclothing. “You have slept well?” Miss Poole asked in a matter-of-fact tone. “Yes. Mr—Mr—l’ve forgotten his name ’ ’ “Mr Voules.’ ’ “Yes, that’s it. Mr Voules seemed to send me to sleep in. less than a minute. I’d forgotten that, but I remember it now quite perfectly. How strange it was! Just as though lie had mesmerised me! Did he mesmerise nre, Miss Poole?” “You mustn’t ask me any questions, Miss Star.smore. But Mr Voules himself will be coming to see you later on. You can ask hiin.” At this information a feeling of oppression again overcame Audrey, and as she ate her breakfast she began to dread the interview with Mr Voules. AVdiv, she did not quite know. Except for keeping her imprisoned, he had not been unkind to her; indeed, lie had been thoughtful for iher comfort, for no doubt the dower? on the table, and tire spirit lamp with materials for making tea had been placed there by his orders. Nevertheless, she thought of him only with repulsion. There was an uncanny suggestion of real evil about him.

After breakfast she dressed in the clothes Miss Pool had brought her. Noises from the street sounded far q.wav; no doubt, she told herself, \ ietoria Street was some little distance off'. Curiosity prompted her to stand on •the table ami peer over C e top of the ■shutters; hut what she saw told her little. Her room was evidently at the hack of the house, overlooking some small property of a slum-like nature. Moreover, it was on the third storey, so that escape by means of the window was an impossibility. At ten o’clock Voules, having knocked at her door and been'told to enter, came into Audrey’s room carrying a gramophone. “I’m glad to hear from .Miss Pool's that, you've slept, well, Miss Stansmore. I’ve bought you a. gramophone to amuse yourself. leu are loud ol music?” i “Yes.” .She tried to smile at him, hut though her lipis responded to her will, her eyes did not. •‘Good! There are some excellent records here. May 1 sit down ? “Of course,” she answered; hut lrcr voice was weak with nervousness. lie sat down opposite her at the table and showed her how to work the instrument. He played one or two records. “You understand?” lie asked. “This lever regulates speed.” “Yes, 1 understand. ” He looked at her intently for a moment; then, leaning over the table, he smiled gently and asked: “Have you ever heard your own voice on the gramophone?” “No.” “Would you like to?” He kept his gaze fixed on Her. She tried to turn away her eyes, hut could not “Yes —1 think 1 would.” “Very well, then. It is quite easy to make a record.” He stopped speaking, but. still his eyes stared into hers. She was held, fixed. Though at first she made a strong but unavailing effort to mease (herself. “You are feeling happy, .Miss Stansniore, ” he said. What has happened to her? She was happy. “Yes,” sho answared. “But, for a few moments, I don’t want you to feel happy. I want you to speak into this gramophone —to -Mr Mitchell. You are now full of anxiety. ’ ’ As by a miracle, the expression of her face changed; her brow was knitted with care, and her eyes were opened wide. “ You are going to appeal to Mr Mitchell to help you,” Boules went ■ ou. “ Y’ou will ask him, in as familiar terms as you can. think of, to come to your aid, and you will tell him to do all that is demanded of him to secure your release. Now begin.” He pushed the gramophone towards her. Putting her mouth, close to the funnel she spoke the 'earnest and vehement words that the reader lias already persued, and that Frank was to listen to a few days later in Paris. 'When she had finished, Monies took the record from .the'instrument and rose to diis feet. “Thank you, Miss Stan-more. L will leave you now. But I have something to say to you before 1 go. Listen. You will remain in this room quite contented for the rest of the day. You will not want to leave the house. Your own desire w'D be to fulfil film wishes of those in authority over you.” Saying this lie he ft the room. For a few hours it was as he had ■said. But late in the afternoon, ns the inftuenccof his extraordinary personality faded, the former anxiety and desire to escape returned, :yid -lie felt once again her fear of Mr Voules.

That night she slept restlessly, and when she awoke in the morning she was resolved to make an attempt to escape. But, in the presence of Miss Poole, she assumed :i happy almost light-hearted manner, and she compelled herself to swallow all the food that was brought to her. By noon she had evolved a plan for escape. Jt was very simple, and it was very reckless; but to Audrey’s inexperienced mind it seemed likely to succeed. She had noticed that when Miss Poole left the bedroom for a few minutes only —for example, when she went downstairs to get a fresh supply of tea —she did not trouble to lock the door. Audrey had pondered over this circumstance, and it seemed to her to open up all kinds of possibilities. At. ten minutes past twelve, Audrey rang her bel'l, and Miss Poole duly appeared. “I'm very sory to trouble you, Miss Poole, hut may I have something to drink? I’m dreadfully thirsty.” “I can make you some lemonade. Would you like that?” “I’d love it.” Miss Poole disappeared, leaving the door unlocked. Trembling with excitement, Audrey walkel silently to the door and waited. The lemonade wouT.'d take three or four minutes to make. She would count sixty slowly, and then chance her luck. But when she had reached forty, her excitement was so intense .that- she could wait no longer. Sir; 1 opened the door and listened. •Silence. Not a vestige of sound in the house. She crept into the passage and down the first flight of stairs. Quickly she went and softly. Not a moment did she pause hut, with her left hand pressed against her heart, ran down flight after flight until she reached the narrow lobby downstairs. She tamed the handle of the front door, pulled, and lo! the door yielded. In‘a moment, she was out in the street. She wore no hat and oil her feet were a pair of evening-dress slippers. Sire dared not run, for fear of attracting attention, and she was bewildered hv the strangeness of the neighbourhood. Surely this was not Victoria! She must get a taxi. Sho turned down oire street and into another, and down a third. Then, suddenly, she found herself in a busy main road full of traffic. Just in front of her a train stopped. She did not know wlierh it was going, she had no money to pay for her fare; but these .things did not matter. Without a moment’s hesitation, she jumped into the tram, and it started off. But, alas! Fate was unkind ro Audreys. She had been seen by the enemy. Voules, returned from a visit to the City, caught sight of her at the very moment she hoardered the tram. Not for an instant did lie hesitate about his course of action. Turning on his heel, he rail after the car, caught up with it, and sprang on to the footboard. Having quietly entered the tram, he took a seat opposite Audrey, and fixed his compelling gaze upon her face. She saw him at once, and, at the sight, shrank and quaked. He raised his hat and smiled confidantly, ,masterfully. Then, still looking into her eyes, he changed his seat to one next to her. Her gaze followed him as lie moved. “We are going to get out very soon —you and J,” hie whispered. “ When I rise, you will rise; when 1 alight, you will alight. You will walk with me through the street. You will talk to mo quite naturally as wo go. Do you nderstand, Miss Stansmore?” As in a trance, she nodded acquiescence. She was caught again, but, oh! so strangely, she did not seem to mind. Voules paid their fares, the tram stopped, and he got off with Audrey.

Never, she felt, was a woman so entirely 'in the power of a nuin, as she was in the power of Voules. He had saplied her will, devoured her personality, ilis will commanded not only his own actions, hut every act and thought of hers. In a dream-state sire walked by his side, only /half conscious, Imt wholly happy. Wlien half-way to the house, they met Miss Poole who, hatless and distraught, was haef-numing, half-walking, along the pavement. At sight of Voules anil Audrey, sire stopped dead, her mouth open with astonishment. ‘ ‘ You will return home alone, M*ss Poole. But, by heaven! you will pay dearly for this!” Tho pale, gaunt woman fell back a pace at his threat, uttered with menacing sterna eh.s. “Jt was not her fault,” said Audrey, pleadingly. i “(She lias no excuse,” said Voules. “This is not a game we are playing, Miss Stansmore. It is as serious as life—and death. ’ ’ (To be Continued.)