“The Japanese Parasol,”

Wairarapa Daily Times, 16 October 1929, Page 7

“The Japanese Parasol,”

(Copyright).

CHAPTER XXlV.—Continued,

“To win me!” she flashed, and then something in his sombre eyes warned her that she must be careful. There came to her the realisation of how completely in his power she was down hero in these unimagined depths, unreal even in their dreadful reality. Serious doubts as to the man’s sanity a sailed her. She became conscious of an overwhelming, desire to get him on the other side of the door, frail protection though even that might prove. She pointed to it now. *'‘Please go,” she said. ‘‘l’ll talk to you again to-morrow.” To her surprise he turned and went out without another word, and scarcely Was lie outside the door when she shot the bolt. But he did not pause. She heard his footsteps fade away down the passage, and then, with a little gasp of dismay, she reseated herself on the bed.

It was certainly a weird situation in which she found herself. She had never had the slightest inkling of this underground way to which the pagoda formed the entrance, and she did not believe that anyone else had, except the colonel. In that case, wliat hope of rescue had she? The very slightest, she told herself. She would be looked for above ground, but who would think of looking below, or even dream that any “below” existed? But for the time being she thrust from her the hopelcsness that such a thought engendered, and took stock of her immediate surroundings. The “room” in which she was did not measure more than eight feet square. Its walls and floor were of stone, but dryer than the passage outside, its sole furniture the bed, a table, and a chair. But clean sheets and blankets were on the bed —even a pair of pyjamas she guessed must belong to Winthrop—and the door, now, she came to look more closely at it, appeared to be of ancient oak of a comforting strength and thickness. Another thing that intrigued her was tho comparative freshness of the air. It was certainly close and heavy, but the steady burning of the candle proved that it was sufficiently pure, and a glance towards tho ceiling showed her a- grating through which the outer atmosphere must somehow penetrate, as it was ingeniously allowed to do at intervals along the passage. Another examination of tho door decided her. She believed that it was beyond even Winthrop’s strength to force this now that it was fastened. She was young, with the happy faculty of making the best of things, and she was conscious of being very tired. She threw off her things, got into bed, and, placing matches where they were ready to her hand, blew out the candle.

Ten minutes later she was asleep CHAPTER XXV.

She awoke next morning to find the room still almost pitch dark, although a faint glimmering of light was filtering through the grating. Striking a match, she was astonished to see that it was seven o’clock. That she should have slept so well surprised her, and she was immeasurably relieved to find that the night had passed without any untoward incident. At once she began to dress, hoping that the night’s peace would prove a happy augury for the day.

Another couple of hours went by, and there was no sigp or sound of Winthrop. She was just becoming conscious of the fact that she was hungry when she heard the sound of his approaching footsteps. lie- knocked at her door.

“Are you up ” ho asked. “I'm bringing you some breakfast.” At once she opened it. She had to meet him some time, and for her own sake she wished to keep things on as natural a footing as possible until some way of escape offered itself, as surely she told herself, it must eventually’ do. The colonel was carrying a tray.

“Cold ham, an egg, and tea,” he announced. “Not a sumptuous repast, but all that my resources allow me to contrive. I hope you slept well.”

For all the world it was like the courteous host making the usual conventional inquiries. That lie had carried her off by violence, and immured her in this cellar-like place, did not appear to weigh with him at all, and, despite her anxiety, Gwen felt a strong inclination to laugh. It was an inclination, however, that he was very quickly to quench. On the tray was a morning newspaper, to which Winthrop drew her attention.

“On page six,” he said, “you will read the confirmation of what I told you last night, and which, I think, to some extent you doubted. Well, you’ll doubt no longer now.”

There was a triumph in his voice he hardly troubled to conceal. He set the tray down on the table and went out chuckling.

“A meddlesome pair,” he flung back at her, “but they won’t meddle any longer!” Her breakfast forgotten, the girl unfolded the paper with a sick premonition of w.hat she would see, and with a little moan of anguish she read the paragraph that Lucas had inserted —the fictitious account of the findbp T of Hugh’s and his own dead bodies on the shore —with little thought that in deceiving Winthrop he would also destroy for the time being the peace mind of Gwennie Bourne. Hitherto, the inward conviction that she had expressed to Colonel Winth-

BY ELLIOT BAILEY. Author of “Mr Benson’s Business,” “The Campden Hill Mystery,” “The Mablethorpe Tangle,” etc., etc.

The latter was not locked, as she feared it might bo, and next instant she was outside. But a glance showed her that the way to the pagoda was cut off. A shaft of light came from the open door of a room similar to her own, and she could hear Winthrop moving about inside. He must inevitably see her as she passed with her candle.

And pursuit there Avas. Winthrop’s quick ear had caught the stealthy opening of Jier door, and, though she had shaded the flame of her candle Avith her hand, his eye had noted the added illumination in the tunnel. He paused in Avhat he Avas doing, and waited, expecting her to attempt to pass his door. But when she did not do so, he realised that she had gone in the opposite direction, and, tiptoeing to the passage, Avas just in time to see her flitting figure rounding, the first bend. Smiling evilly, he returned, and stood for a minute in thought. Then, lifting the lift of a box-like receptacle, he took something out; something cold, clammy, and living, that squirmed and hissed angrily at being disturbed.

Winthrop’s lips drew back from his teeth as he regarded it. “Escape-, would you, my girl?” he muttered. “I —think not.”

His left hand grasping what he had taken from the box, his right holding his electric torch, the colonel began to follow in her wake. Ilis method of doing so was peculiar. There was something horrible about it, something feline. Lucas had referred to him as a tiger. He would have realised the justness of the epithet had he seen that grim stalking.

rop —that Hugh Monro was alive —had sustained her, but now at length her courage on this point began to fail. It seemed to her that this item in the paper was conclusive, and she burst into a sudden flood of tears. With the announcement of his death in front of her, she realised, perhaps for the first time in all its intensity, what Hugh had meant to her. Eor a long while her grief prevented her from dwelling on her own situation, but gradually it datvned upon her that with the loss of Lucas and her fiance she had been bereft of her two most possible helpers, and that escape from Winthrop’s clutches must rest now entirely with herself. So far, leaving out of consideration his outrageous abduction of her ; he had treated her well —but how long would he continue to do so?

Picking up the candle, she determined to attempt an investigation of tin: passage outside. If she could only find her way back to the pagoda, and hit upon the hidden spring which gave access to it, then freedom would be hers. Freedom! She thrilled at the thought, and quietly and carefully turned the handle of her door.

Therefore she turned in the opposite direction, with no idea where it would lead her, but hopeful that, as at the summer-house, there would prove to be an exit at the further end.

She wandered along the passage which was not straight, but twisting and turning, and the candle casting her shadow eerily on the damp and mildewed Avails. The extent of this subterranean tunnel astounded her; there seemed no finish to it as she hurried on.

Then all at once she stopped, and glanced conscious of the pounding of her heart Avuthin her breast. She could see nor hear nothing, but all the same there came upon her an indefinable knowledge of pursuit. CHAPTER XXVI.

The light from her candle gave away Gwen’s whereabouts, and her j pursuer’s methods were as follows. He would let her get round a bend, and then, holding his light towards the j ground so that it threw no ray ahead, ! he would race- down the straight and stand listening to her retreating footsteps —to repeat the process at every succeeding turn. As if knowing that she could not get away from him, he made no real attempt to come up with her. The chase itself must have afforded him an unholy and sinister glee. In just such a ’’ashion will a cat stalk a helpless fledgling which has fallen from the nest. Presently the steadiness of her light told him that she had stopped, and he guessed that some inkling had come to her that she was being followed. He chuckled at the thought, dousing his light completely, prepared to retreat in his turn should she retrace her steps.. But she didn’t. Failing to see or hear anything, she proceeded on her way, her added speed a measure ot her fears. And once moTe Winthrop resumed his feline hunt. With nerves already badly shaken, possessed by a tingling apprehension of some intangible and yet very real danger, Gwen wandered on, the interminable passage, sometimes slippery underfoot from the moisture which dripped from roof and walls, gradually becoming a nightmare wic weighed upon her very soul. .In such surroundings, it struck heT, might los spirits wander for ever in the realms of darkness. (To be Continued).