"A Stronger Passion.”

Wairarapa Daily Times, 23 May 1928, Page 7

"A Stronger Passion.”

A FINE STORY WITH A STRONG LOYE THEME.

BY ROWAN GLEN. Author of “The Great Anvil,” -The Best Gift of All,” “Eor Love or for Gold,” etc., etc.

CHAPTER XVIII, —Continued. Ho shrugged his shoulders. “I could give you half a dozen explanations/’ he answered. "The simplest one is that she’s suffering from reaction following on that had scare she got when her father nearly pegged out. “When you get under the surface with Sir Charles, you find that he’s a pretty good sort of fellow. I’ve had no reason to love him—it’s been the other way round—but he and 1 have fixed up our differences now. .anyway, Elaine loves him, and she was as near as a toucher to a nervous breakdown on that night when I operated. That’s what’s happened. She’s worked herself into a nervous condition. The condition will pass once she realises that her father really is safe and that, bar accidents or bad luck, he’s got a score of years ahead of him.” Lilian sighed. “You may be right,” she admitted, “but if I were you, I know what I’d do.” “Well, tell me,” he suggested, and tried to speak lightly. “Suppose you were in my position, Lilian, how would you act? I know how I’m going to act, of course. I’m going to do what commonsense tells mo to do. I’m going to clear right away—and for a long spell. But how would you act?” Her eyes were very soft as she answered:

that yet. Anyway, we leave here in the morning, and we may be gone for months —or years. I'll instruct a local lawyer to fix up about the servants and the house.”

During the other’s absence, MacEae looked twice at his watch and snapsnapped a thumb and finger irritably’. Then the room door was pushed Wide, and an agitated Pringle came in, rain streaming down his face and sodden ing his clothes.

“For the Lord’s sake, sir,” lie exclaimed, “hurry! AVhen I was passing the rocks on the shore I tripped over Miss Hart.” ‘ ‘ You—what?”

“Tripped over Miss Hart, sir. I pulled her well clear o’ the water, but she’s Wing yonder half-dead, it seems to me. When I spoke to .her she opened her eyes and looked up at me as though she didn’t see me. I could hardlj' hear her, sir, she spoke so quietlike, but she was calling for you.”

CHAPTER XIX. —HART TRIES TO HELP.

The glass which MacEae had been holding slipped from his fingers, and its contents spattered over his knees. Hands on the chair-arms, he raised himself and caught at one of Pringle’s shoulders. “What the devil’s all this?” he asked. “Are }-ou crazy, or drunk, or —what does it mean? Miss Hart ly- ( ing on the shore? uni hurt, and asking for me?”

“I’d hire the hotel car, and I’d go straight up to The Lodge and to Elaine. I’d tell her that 1 was leaving Arnavrach almost at once, but that before I went I wanted to have a straight talk with her.” “I’ve had so many straight talks with her!” Maeßae remarked. “Still, go on, Lilian. What else?” "Well, I’d tell her, of course, that I loved her. I’d convince her of that, somehow, and I’d remind her that she’d once said that she loved me and that she’d promised io marry me. I’d say that I didn’t expect a definite answer right away, but that I’d like to have one in a month’s time.” “Is that all you’d do?”

Pringlo had steadied now. “Beg j'our pardon, sir,” he answered. “I didn’t say as she was hurt. I don’t know about that. I only said she seemed half dead. And she wasn’t asking for you. She was simply saying your name. It’s so damned dark out there now that I couldn’t be sure of the thing, but 1 think there was a boat upside down and banging against the rocks. Likely she was caught in the storm and capsized. Anyway—” He left the sentence unfinished, because Maeßae had pushed him aside and gone from the room at a run. “Come along, Pringle!” he called. “I may need you. The others aren’t off to-bed yet, are they?” “No, sir. At least Mrs Cairns isn’t.” “Well, give her a shout and tell her to stand by. Then come to me. You’d better bring a lantern and a couple of rugs. ’ ’

“Xo! if I were a man like you, Blair, I believe I'd just take Elaine in my arms and kiss her, and tell her that I felt that she belonged to me. If I looked into her eyes after that, I’d know whether she eared for me or whether she was merely anxious to pay a debt.” .

“You almost persuade me to have one more try,” he said. “But it’s no good, Lilian. T’d only be fooling myself.”

He was gone on that and, cursing a's in the darkness lie bumped against a tree trunk went under a drenching rain to the shore. Breathing spasmodically, he walked to that line of rocks b}' which he knew that Elaine would be lying. At last lie found her. One of her arms was out-stretched; one resting across her bosom, and she lay still. The darkness was almost complete and he had to bend low before lie could see her face, even dimly. “Elaine!” he called. “Elaine, my dear! ’’

“Try it, Blair!” she urged. “Try it—just once. There won’t need to be a second time. One way or the other you’ll know. To please me! Will 3-011? Will 3-011 get the car now and go to The Lodge and have a final talk with Elaine?” Ho hesitated. Then:

“I’ll do it,” he agreed, “to please 3'ou —and to convince myself. I know I’ve become morbid. I can’t help it. There was a time when I thought I was going to pull the biggest sort of prize from life’s lucky-bag. Now my hands arc empty’. Still, I’ll go to The Lodge.” Ho did that, but it was only to find that Elaine was out, and that she had not said when she would return. He had a few minutes’ talk with Hart, and during that talk the temporary' enthusiasm which Lilian Manton had engendered passed.

She gave no sign that she had heard him and, turning about, he looked towards the lighted house.

‘ ‘ Hurry, dam’ you!” he exclaimed softly. “Hurry!” Then he went on his knees in the wet shingle and slid an arm under her. As he did so, she stirred. As though the voice came from very far away', lie heard her murmur: “Blair! . . . Blair!” “I’m here,” lie returned. “Elaine! I’m with you. You’re safe. You can hear me, can’t you?” She ■ lay passive against his arm, then, quite suddenly', raised herself. “Oh, I hate you!’ she cried out. “I was happy' till you came. . . I hate you! ” Pel-spiration mingling with the raindrops rolling down his cheeks, he spoke to her again. But, a sort of quivering sigh running through her, she closed the eyes that had been wide open and staring, and lay r back heavily'. With an effort he lifted her. He was going unsteadily towards :thc house when Pringle joined him, a lantern swinging in one hand and over his left shoulder a couple of rugs. Between them they' wrapped the rugs about her and carried her f to the house much as, in what seemed the long ago, they had carried her on that day when MacEae had brought her from the loch itself. Mrs Cairns met them in the hall, capable and unflustcred. Behind her a couple of womcn-sorvants, who had dressed hastily and partially, were waiting.

“I don’t know when Elaine will be back,” the judge said. “She went out on the loch, I know, and she went

alone. I wish she hadn’t, because I’m beginning to be weather-wise about these parts, and I should say that there’s a storm blowing Up. If you’re really going off to-morrow, then she’ll be sorry to have missed you. I told her that I thought you wouldn’t be here much longer, and she said that she’d like to say; a good-bye. Perhaps you’ll meet her when you’re pulling across to the island.”

But though Maeßae waited on the loch till long after gloaming time had merged into darkness, he saw no sign of any r boat. Tired out, he reached the island, but not till he had experienced minutes of anxiety during which his little craft was slammed this way' and that by the suddenly-risen waves and wind. Once in his comfortable smoke-room he poured out a whisky-and-soda, and, having glanced through a railway’ guide, felt for his favourite pipe. He failed to find it, and remembered that he had loft it in the boat.

Rising, he rung a bell, and presently Eobert Pringle came to him. “Pringle,” MacEae said, “I -want you to slip down to see if you can find that bent pipe of mine in the boat 1 was using. It was the one I left yesterday on The Lodge shore. And Pringle?” “Yes, sir! ’’ “You and I are leaving here tomorrow morning by. the eight o’clock train. I’ll be up by six, and you’d better set that alarm clock of yours for the same time. I’ll do some packing to-night, but you can please yourself whether you get your gear together now or in the morning.” “I’ll do it to-night, sir,” Pringle said. “Might I be asking where we’re going, and for how long?” “To London first. I’ll stay there for a couple of days only. I’ll want to see my uncle and to fix up trainberths and passports. I’m going to head for Italy. I’ve never been there, and I’ve always longed to go. After a month or so wo may slide across to Covlon. But I don’t know about

“Get her into bed as soon as you can,” MacEae ordered. “I don’t think she’s hurt—physically anyway'. But I’ll come up as soon as you’ro ready. .. . . Steady with that rug, Pringle. We’ll take her upstairs. Arc you ready?”

“Ready', sir,” Pringle answered. “It’s easy', this —she’s just about as heavy as a feather.” When they were in the hall again, Maeßae jogged at his man’s shoulder. AVhen they were in the hall again, Maeßae jogged at his man’s shoulder.

“Come in here and have a drink,” he said. “The wind’s fallen, and I’m going to send you down to Dochrine to get Dr. Cairns. I don’t care what he’s doing; he’s got to come. He may be asleep, but if he is, you must wake him and drag him along. If lie’s out somewhere, go after him and tell him that he’s wanted here at once.” “I’ll do my best, sir,” Pringle answered. “But what if I can’t find him?” (To be Continued).