The Awakening of Theodore Wrenn,

Wairarapa Daily Times, 13 March 1935, Page 7

The Awakening of Theodore Wrenn,

BY JAMES RONALD, (Author.of “The Secret of Hunter’s Keep/’ “The White Card,” “The Monocled Man,” etc.) \

(COPYRIGHT.) PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

CHAPTER NSIV. For days Anno Wilding tossed in delirium. She was kept at the house of the kindly doctor, and three or four times every day Theodore was allowed to tiptoe into the room to see her for a few moments. These visits by no means cheered him, for he found a white haggard invalid whose mind had temporarily ceased to function coherently, and who seemed to be hovering upon the hairbreadth borderline between life and death, but it consoled him to be near her, although she was not conscious of his presence. Theodore put up at the village inn, and spent his waking hours haunting the doctor’s house, 'and wandering about the nearby hills and fields. Until Anne recovered he was in a state of suspended mental animation. At times Anne lay still and white, perfectly motionless, with the placid calm of death. At others, she moaned and struggled in the grip of a nightmare, and her agony was pitiful to watch. These nightmares began with the obsession that her .brother Ronnie, whom slio loved passionately, was standing his trial for embezzlement. She could feel the atmosphere of the court, see the stern face of the judge, and hear the prosecuting counsel saying “Thief!—Thief!—Thief!” in tones of terrible monotony, which increased in volume until they were deafening.

“Thief! Thief! Thief!” Then she would start up wildly and cry>out: “No, no! He didn’t mean to do it! He was Aveak —not bad. Just Aveak. Ho isn’t a thief! He isn’t! He isn’t!” The face of Bernard Salzman, the monevlender Avith eyes heavy-lidded like those of a bird of prey,_ would folloav,. and sometimes she confused the cruel face of the Jcav AA’itli that of the judge and fancied that he Avas passing judgment on. Ronnie, and knew that he would find her poor brother guilty.

“No!—no! Don’t send him to prison!” she Avould shriek. “I’ll pay! I’ll pay! Anything you ask! Only—not that! Not prison for Ronnie.” Her delusion about Ravenal caused her the greatest anguish. She lived over and over that frantic, terrible chase along the side of the hill. The ear in which Ravenal pursued her was a flaming furnace, as she had seen it after the crash, and . Ravenal, Avreatlied round Avith tongues of fire, drove like a devil in a fiery chariot. Then the aAvful feeling as the front wheels of his. car had crashed into the back of hers, and the grinding noise as it crashed over the precipice; and the unconscious form of Ravenal, as the hungry flames consumed him — • With a wild cry she Avmuld lapse into unconsciousness, and lie, white and still, hovering between life and death. Sometimes Theodore. Avould come into her troubled, tortured mind, and her lips Avould part in a tremulous, pathetic smile.'

“Theodore!” she would whisper, “Theodore, my dear!” And then, if Theodore tiptoed into the room and took her thin, limp hand she would fall into a deep, untroubled sleep, which helped her to weather her days of delirium. On the fifth day, when Anne was losing strength quickly in the terrible battle, the lawyers of the dead baronet called on Theodore. They found him white and shaken, drifting on a sea of despair, like a ship without an anchor. They found it difficult to make him understand that he was the new baronet, Sir Theodore Wrenn. He shook his head and begged them to leave him alone. “But don’t you understand?” they insisted, “you inherited the baronetcy on your cousin’s death.” Theodore laughed mirthlessly.' / '“That’s funny!” he .exclaimed. “What a good story for the papers! Sir Theodore Wrenn, the pauper baronet! The titled clerk!”

Mortimer Fosdyke, the senior partner in the firm of Fosdyke and Loam, glanced at his junior partner with raised eyebrows. “I’m afraid you don’t understand, Sir Theodore,” he said smoothly. “Sir Anthony died intestate, and his entire fortune reverts to you, as the next of kin. I congratulate you. After death duties are paid, your inheritance will amount to over a quarter of a million pounds.” Trembling a little, Theodore dropped into a chair. “A quarter of a million pounds! ho repeated dully. ‘ ‘ Exactly. ’ ’ It was almost unbelievable.

“A quarter of a million pounds!” He looked from the silver-haired Fosdyke, to the younger, cherubic Loam. “You really mean it?” he whispered. “It’s—it’s really true?” “Absolutely true,” Mortimer Fosdyke assured him. Theodore took a deep breath, and rose slowly to his feet. He went to the door, and, as though on second thoughts, turned for a moment before leaving the room: “Pardon me, please.” As the new baronet went out, Mr Loam looked at his partner, and tapped his forehead significantly. The older man shook his head. “He dazed, that’s all,” he said. “So would you be, if you inherited a quarter of a million as suddenly as that.” The other nodded. “I suppose so. But there’s no such luck for a poof devil like me.” Theodore went to the doctor. “I’ve found out that there is an enormous sum of money at my disposal,” he said. “Is there any way I can use it for Miss Wilding’s sake?” The doctor stroked his chin. “We can call in a London specialist. The chances are that ho could do no more than we are doing, but he might help.” “Very well. Will you call in the best man you can get?” The doctor nodded. “I’ll ’phone at once. But, I say, Wrenn—” “Yes?”

“Well, doctors can only go so far. We’re not miracle-workers, you know. I think we’ll bo able to save Miss Wilding, to an extent. Beyond that, the case rests with you. You’ve seen what you mean to her, how she is soothed when thoughts of you enter those deliriums of hers. She’s been through a lot—enough to have killed the average

avo man. When she's on her feet again, there’ll still be a lot to do. That’s your job. Look after her, man.” Theodore gripped the doctor’s hand convulsively. “I’d give my life for her!” he exclaimed. A famous specialist Avas called, and spent tAVO days in the village. On the second day, the delirium that tortured Anno had past. She Avas ill, and very Aveak, but conscious. On the third morning the specialist left, and Theodore Avas alloAved to see Anne and talk to her for five minutes. She Avas pitifully pleased to see him. Her eyes lit up as he came into the room. “Theodore! lloav splendid!” she exclaimed, and a glow suffused her cheeks. “It’s splendid to see you looking so Avell,” murmured Theodore huskily. A tear fell upon her hand and she suav that his eyes Avere Avet. “My dear, you’re crying! Don’t! I’m all right now. I’m going to get Avell. You mustn’t cry.” Theodore Aviped his eyes roughly. “I’m crying for happiness, my dear. Sheer joy! I don’t knoAV Avlien I’ve been so happy. Of course, you’re going to bo well and strong again, soon. And we’re going aAvay. Far arvay to the sun. To the shores of the Mediterranean, Avhere the sun will warm your blood, and melt your heart. ’ ’ She looked at him Avith misty eyes. “Dear Theodore! It sounds like a wonderful dream.” “It isn’t a dream. It’s all right. We’re going to traA r el and travel for years.” There Avas a tiny sob in her laugh. “Oh, my dear, have you found the pot of gold at the end of a rainboAV? Or a magic carpet,, to carry us Avherever we wish/” / Theodore blundered. He should have matched her airy fantasy Avith romancing equally as fantastics. Instead, he blurted 'out the truth, and could have kicked liimseif for it afterwards. “A quarter of a million pounds,” lie said. “All yours and mine, my dear, to buy us happiness for ever and'ever.” Her eyes questions him. “A quarter of a million pounds!” Then intuition told her the truth. “Ravenal’s money?” His face expressed acute misery. “I didn’t mean to remind you, my dear. Forgive me. ’ ’ She shook her head.

“There’s nothing to forgivm. It doesn’t hurt me to think of Rav r enal noAv. ”

But she remembered, and during the next few.days she thought often of the Avealtli Avhich Theodore had inherited from Ravenal. And she knew what would be said of her if she married Theodore. That she had been willing to marry Ravenal for liis money, and had “hooked” Theodore Avhen the money Avent to him— Soon sho Avas able to go home to her studio in Cheyno Walk, and Theodore called there daily. But they never quite regained the old intimate footing. Something Avas lacking in their comradeship. The dead man’s money had come betAveen them. Anne learned that someone had paid the money Avhich she owed to Bernard Salzman, and she kneAV that that “someone” Avas Theodore. Also, she kneAV Avhat sacrifice it had meant to him at the time. They never spoke of it, but she loved him the more for it. But loA r ing him, and knoAving the things Avhich would be said of them, she decided that he and she must nc\ r er marry. Theodore Avas Avorried about the inquest on Sir Anthony Ravenal. He Avas afraid that Anne’s part in the accident must necessarily be revealed and that a scandal Avould result. To prevent that, he discussed the matter Avith Dodds, Sir Anthony’s butler, and they agreed upon a story Avhich shielded Anne’s name and was more or less merciful to the memory of the dead man. ,

When called as a witness at the inquest, Dodds explained that Miss Wilding had been calling on her fiancee, his master, and that after she had departed it was discovered that she had left her handbag, containing the latchkey of her London house, behind her. Sir Anthony had followed her to return it. A little later Mr Wrenn had called to see Sir Anthony on business, and on being informed of the circumstances had decided to go to meet Sir Anthony, since he wished to see him as soon as possible. In reply to a question from the Coroner, Dodds stated that his master had taken “a little brandy” that evening. “He was not intoxicated?” suggested the Coroner. The butler rolled his eyes in a shocked manner. “He had no more than his usual, si ( r, ” he replied, from which the Coroner concluded that the late baronet had been quite sober when he met his death. Theodore then gave evidence to the effect that he had discovered Anne’s wrecked car at the side of the road, and the blazing limousine at the foot of the cliffs. The headlights of Miss Wilding’s car were on when he found it, he added, but the tail-light had failed. He concluded that the tail-light had gone out before the accident, and that Sir Anthony, failing to see the red tail-light ahead, had driven too fast, with disastrous results. “Miss Wilding is seriously ill?” asked the Coroner. “Yes, she was badly hurt,” agreed Theodore. After some slight consultation with the police the Coroner announced that he considered it neither necessary or desirable to postpone the inquest until Miss Wilding’s return to health. The cause of the tragedy seemed obvious enough. 'The jury brought in a. verdict of “Accidental Death” without leaving the court.

Theodore was complimented by the Coroner for the lucid manner in which he had given evidence. The case was reported briefly in the morning papers, and in a day or so was forgotten. (To be Continued).