“ The Courage of Love,”
PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT,
COPYR IGHT.
CHAPTER NX.—Continued. ‘‘The fact is,” he said, “Townley, when he got rid of me as he supposed he had, not only robbed me of ail the documents and papers which were in my possession, but also my name. His real name is Pelly, as I just said. And it appears he was known in certain of the towns round and about as ‘ One Man Pelly,’ because lie could stand up and take a crowd on single handed. Yes, my name is Townley,” the tall,
thin man said, as he smiled into Mrs. Waverley’s face. ‘‘l am Cyril Gresham Townley, and I am the man who was deputed by her father to look after Diana’s interests, and to see that all was well with her. These two scoundrels must have made their escape to England very shortly after Ladbroke had
been murdered, and I had been shot down. They never waited to see if I had any life left in me, they were convinced I was dead.”
‘‘lt seems to me,” the rightful Townley said, as he lapsed into silence a moment, pased, and then went **on speaking—‘‘lt seems to me I saw a man like Henry Burke only a few days ago. I am convinced if was Burke,” he added, “because lie changed colour when he saw life, and he disappeared very quickly.”
“ \\ r cU what do you propose that we should do, Mr. Townley,” queried Hugh Waverley eagerly. “It’s always the hardest thing to
have to wait, my dear boy,” the other man answered, ‘ ‘ but that is the best tiling we -can do at the moment. We have .to wait. We have to wait and see what move is made on the other side. I can’t help thinking that they will make some sort of move.”
‘‘Do you think it would be a good thing to put this into the hands of a detective?” queried Mrs. Waverley.
‘‘No. As a matter of fact I understand from your friend, Mr. Joyce, that you have already got a very clever man, Dr. Bravington, working for you. I should almost be inclined to leave things in his hands. I am not over fond of private detectives; one has to say so much more than one would naturally want to have to say in ordinary circumstances. ’ ’
And then 'Gresham Townley discussed Mrs. Waverley’s news regarding the death of Agatha Thorp. “I am sorry not to have seen her,” he said. ‘‘l knew a good deal about her from hearing James talk. There
must have been some good in her. ” ‘‘l have only spoken to her once, and that was on the day of Diana ; s disappearance,” said Hugh - Waverley. ‘‘And then she touched me because she spoke very gently, and most affectionately, and even proudly of my girl. And yet, of course, everybody knew all round Kexbury that Diana had a very hard time with her aunt. She was kept almost like a prisoner, she had no freedom, and was always being scolded and punished fo rsome wrong she had done. There is no doubt that the shock of her disappearance proved fatal with Mrs. Thorp.” “I am very sorry,” Hugh’s mother
said, “that I was not able to see her, or to know her in the days before she was stricken with paralysis. Poor soul, whatever her faults were, she paid for them dearly!”
In a little while, Hugh Waverley got up, and taking farewell of their guest, he went away. “lie’s gone out to walk the streets,” his mother said, With a sad smile. “One has to be patient with him, poor lad! It’s been such a dreadful business. lou see, Hugh has never played about, and flirted, or run after girls, and therefore when ho fell in love, it was a very serious, ’and a very real thing. And from all that I have been told about Diana, I imagine she was just the type of girl that would appeal to him. Poor little creature! I do wonder where she is, and how she is?” “We can’t let the matter rest, although I don’t want to have a detective,” Gresham Townley said. “But we must all try, to unravel this mystery. ’ ’
■ “Hugh seems to have done everything he could do,” Mrs. Waverley replied thoughtfully. “It is so difficult, you see, to know where to start. If only we had some clue as to what this man, who called himself by your name, was doing in London, or where he was living before he came to Middleston, that would be something to go upon. But we know nothing, we are ail in the dark.” CHAPTER XXI. Two or three days went by, days that were spent very quietly by Mrs. Stanton and by Diana, that is to say, quiet in a sense. The girl appeared to be strangely restless, she wanted to be out of doors walking. This old house was very near the river; they only had to go* down a side street, and they came to a cluster of houses, beyond which stretched the Tliamcs.
The river seemed to fascinate Diana. She was certainly getting stronger. She could walk quite easily now, and Mrs. Stanton was able to induce her to eat fairly well. They generally had their food in the kitchen, that was Diana’s wish. She shrank from being alone; she confessed more than once that she could not bring herself to like this old, rather tumble-down house. And once she said, puzzling her brows into a frown:
It was very nice before we came here. I don’t know where it was, but it was a nice house. There were some, charming pictures on the walls. Why did we come away from there?” she queried.
When Diana asked questions in this direct fashion, it was very difficult for Mrs. Stanton to know exactly how to deal with her. Unknown to,the girl, she was watching very carefully. There
BY MADAME ALBANESI. (Author of “Love’s Harvest,” “The Road to Love,” “The Way to Win,” etc).
were times when really she was terribly anxious. It seemed to her that Diana was hovering on the borders of full consciousness. She kept these things to herself very carefully because she did not want to draw attention to what was passing
with Diana. It was impossible for any
one to have been kinder, or more tender, or more thoughtful, or more considerate than this working woman was. And now and again when they were sitting alone together in the kitchen
(which was the only cheerful place in this dreary old house), there would come into the heart of Miriam Stanton a feeling of tenderness, and motherly love for this helpless young creature
who had been put into her care, and vno was, she knew how, so valuable to the men whom she had been taught to look upon as her masters. The disappearance of. Henry Burke assured the housekeeper that things
were beginning to be less promising, but this did not bring her much peace of mind; she dreaded, indeed, to look ahead. There were times when this woman cried out in her heart against the fate which bound her in servitude to such a man as the one who called himself Cyril Townley. She knew that her husband had been a man of indigent morality. He had been undoubtedly a thief, and just as undoubtedly he had been a forger; but as her son had put before her pretty clearly, there had had a share in his evil doings. She really was nothing to indicate that she had been a victim, and he had wrecked her life. And now to add to her restless desire for freedom there came a very definites feeling of rebellion. Why should she continue to serve these two men. The spirit that Edward Garret had put in her remained and grew stronger. She began to ask herself questions. .
What would be her reward for the faithful way in which she had served Towley and Burke? They never troubled to waste any thanks for all the work she did, and as for making promises of what would come in the future, Miriam was convinced that if she had spoken about the future, asking to know what she was to do when success came to them, she would only have been answered with abuse.
Lately, too, she told herself passionately she wanted no reward for the
care and love she gave Diana. If only she could have known something about Diana SliG WOuld have dared Townley’s anger—would have given the girl back to those to whom she belonged. She answered Diana’s last speech after some hesitation. . “Well, my dear, it was only a fur-, nished house,” she said hurriedly “and you see, it had only been taken for a short time.” Diana said—“ Oh.” But she still looked a little worried. “Do you like this house?” she queried in a low voice.
Miriam Stanton shook her head,
“No, my dear, I hate it. I need to live here years ago, and I had great unhappiness in this jdace. That’s why I hate it.”
“Unhappiness!” said Diana. She looked at tho woman, and then she stretched out her hand. “Oh, I am sorry,” she said. “You are so kind—you are so good—you take such care of me, I don’t like to think of you being unhappy.”
Mrs. Stanton turned away, for tears rushed to her eyes. In a little while she made some light remark. But she continued to look anxiously at Diana. In every way she was worried. Though she had rung up her son at a number which he had given her as being a number where she could usually find him, she had never got in touch with him.
And the absence of Townley, following on the disappearance of Burke, made her very anxious. • X'ot that she really wanted to see the man, only that life had to go on, and she had no means with which to buy food, or to do anything. If it had not been for Garrett, who came every day, and always brought her a little sum of
money which he told her had been borrowed, Mrs. Stanton would not have been able to supply Diana with the food which she knew was so necessary to the girl. And then one late afternoon, it was dark, tho year was getting on and the days were growing shorter, Townley arrived. He was not violent this time, but his manner was much more dangerous. Ilis eyes had a strange expression in them, and lie looked worn as if lie had been travelling for some days.
When he asked for Diana, Mrs. Stanton hurriedly explained that file girl was not very well.
“She’s got a very heavy cold,” she said, “ and I am keening her up-, stairs. ’ ’
“Well, cold or no cold,” said Townlcy, “she’ll have to come down when I want her. Have you seen Burke?” he queried.
(To be Continued).
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Bibliographic details
Wairarapa Daily Times, 13 January 1932, Page 7
Word Count
1,846“The Courage of Love,” Wairarapa Daily Times, 13 January 1932, Page 7
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