“The Cry in the Night,”

Wairarapa Daily Times, 15 April 1935, Page 7

“The Cry in the Night,”

BY OTTWELL BINNS. (Author of “The Lavenham Treasure,” “Diana of tho Islands,” “The Mystery of the Atoll,” etc.)

(COPYRIGHT.) PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

CHAPTER XXl.—Concluded. Tiger Harry’s face still wore the incredulous took, but to the watchers it was clear that the name that he had heard was a revelation. After a little time, he broke out. “My God! And you got Arty and Hoppy, and you’d have got me—” “And the woman!” interrupted Castro coolly. “Hut why? I know Pedro had a little difference with Arty —” ‘‘With all of you!” broke in Castro. “Seven years ago you cheated and robbed him —leaving him with nothing. You know how it was done and how your woman played her part. lie returned to Macao after nine months in the stokeholds of certain steamers; lie. who, when he met you, was rich. He was sick when ho came back to Ma; cao, the labour among the coal having broken him. But a little business in Macao, of which I had care, prospered, and as he grew stronger, sitting in the grotto of the great Camoens, staring at the seA, ho dreamed of vengeance, thought what ho would do, when again lie was strong enough to go forth into the world. The Castros arc a proud race. In us there is the blood of kings, and wo do not lightly suffer wrong. That is not our way —no. Wo pay our debts as I have shown—though still there is something owing to you and that woman.” “Oh! Go on!” cried Tiger Harry. “Think I’ll swallow that rot. Mean to say that you came from Macao to kill Arty and the rest of us—” “To pay the debt!” said Castro. “The debt which my father meant to pay, and over which lie meditated day. by day in the grotto of the great Cam ' ) )

“Why didn’t he come himself?” interrupted the other. “Because he died,” answered Castro simply. “Those months he had spent feeding the furnaces of the ships by which at last ho returned home, had been too much for him. The disease was in his lungs. He sickened again, and knew that he niust die. And with that knowledge he would go to the Grotto and stare forth with eyes that burned, and I knew what bitterness was in his heart. Never could he go forth to exact vengeance from the men who had so foully wronged him. “ ‘Manoel,’ lie said in sadness to mo one day. ‘I shall not rest in the grave to which I go if the debt is not paid. ’ “Then I made the decision. 'Have no fear, my father. The debt shall bo paid to all.’ “ 'But the opportunity to repay must first be given. We are not heathens. We are Christian men. The money that was stolen, with interest at a percentage, that must be paid.’ “ ‘But, my father,’ I asked, ‘who shall pay for your life?’ “ ‘All of them,’ he said—like that, ferociously. ‘But first, Manoel, the opportunity must bo given. ’ “I knew then that it was the conviction in his heart that none of you would the money repay; and understood well what was to be done. And there, in the Grotto of Camoens, I took the vow that what he would have done, I would do; and that so the pride of the Castros should be uplifted. And when he died he spake but two words, ‘Remember, Manoel.’ ” “You ruddy murderer!” broke out Tiger Harry. “And you meant to do for the lot of us?” “It is meet that all debts should bo discharged. And, above all, that men should keep their holy vows.” “Holy! Crimes! I ain’t a saint, but came to him. “llow the blazes did you get track of us? Wo were in Paris when we ran against old Pedro.” “That was easy. Prom the first my father was resolved on what he would do. When he returned to Macao lie wrote to a man whom ho had known in Paris, enclosing money and causing inquiries to be made. Four times each year there came a report of the doings of you all—” “My hat! There’s a bloodhound for vou! ’ ’

"So when tho time came it was easy for me to find Arthur Studholmc and the others. And I did not go to him without warning. I sent him a telegram — ’ ’ "Christopher! He thought it had come from Charlton here, whom he’d met and who’d put tho wind up him proper. ’ ’

"Ah! That was it. When I went to that fine house of his, naturally he did not know me. I recalled the telegram to his mind, and ho was urgently relieved, so that I knew there was somewhere in the world a man of whom he stood in great fear. But me, ho did not fear. Even when T told him my name he was undisturbed, for he did not recall it, having not heard of it for the space of some years, but when I spoke mv father’s name he remembered it.

" ‘Pedro Castro,’ he said, ‘that fool! What became of him?’

"It, is not good for a man so to speak of another man’s father, and the anaer burned in mo when I heard that evil man so speak. Put I did not act. I waited, sure that the man would not pay, and as gently as I could I set before him the demand of my father.” Eor a moment tho man was silent, apparently lost in thought, and it was Charlton who prompted him, a measure of svmpathy in his voice. "What happened, Manoel Castro?” "The man laughed in my face. Told me to go to Hell. . . . But it was he for whom that place rvas yawning. I had taken a knife -with me. for a knife is as silent as it is sure, but I did not use that one, for truly T had almost forgotten it. On the desk at which ho sat there was a knife of his ownsuch a knife as you may purchase in "Rangoon or Singapore or Canton. When he laughed, I snatched it up and struck him, once. It was sufficient, for I knew well the place to strike. “He died almost at once, falling to the floor. But even as he fell T heard tho sound of steps outside, and I hid. lying behind a couch, for I remembered that the outer door was open, and that if I tried to leave the room I must be observed. Then tho bell rang, once, twice, three times, and after, there were steps in the passage, and from my hiding place I saw a man enter the room. 7Te was, T think, a little drunk. Tie looked round and presently saw the man whom I had slain. He moved towards him, stooped over him, touch-

(The End.)

ed him, looked at his .hand and then cried out — “ ‘Christ have mercy!’ “So saying, lie (led, and when he was clear of the house I followed him. ’ ’ “That man was Adrian Rowthorne?” asked Inspector Bansoiiio. “Yes. That man who was brought here to recognise me to-night.” “You guessed that?” Manoel Castro nodded. “Ho was Hic only man who knew, and how he knew I cannot say. I left him in Brighton, but when I met him in London I read the knowledge in his eyes, and I drugged him, meaning—” The man broke off, and shrugged his shoulders. “But what matter? It was fated to be otherwise. A man cannot escape destiny.”

“You killed Hoppy too?” cried Tiger Harry.

“But yes, but as you know not immediately. I had time. I had given myself a week. I followed the man all tho next day. I dined where ho dined, I drank at the next table to him at an hotel and heard him tell a friend that someone had stepped over his grave. That I knew was true, though his grave was not yet dug, for I was the man. T followed him through the square of lights, and killed him at the door of this house —”

“You cold-blooded Cain!” cried Tiger Harry. “I knew that for him to die so would make you afraid,” said Castro simply. “And I thought to let you suffer a little under the anticipation of fear. So I left you for a day—two days, and went away with that man. Senor Rowthorne, meaning—” “Meaning to pass the guilt on to him I suppose, Castro?” interrupted Inspector Ransome.

“Not to his final hurt,” said Manoel Castro. “I had seen him at that house, and I had a thought that I might use him to divert suspicion—nothing more, for when I left him in Brighton I knew that, then, he would be able to prove that he was not here when the debt was paid.” The man lurched suddenly, and Charlton remembered how he had seen the flashlight .-jerked upward after one of Tiger Harry’s shots, and he guessed that the man was wounded. He said as much to Inspector Ransome, who nodded.

“I’ll get the surgeon to overhaul him in a minute. Good thing he got Rowthorne here in time.' The fellow would have got Harry and his woman.”

“And that would have been a great loss, Inspector!” “Don’t know anyone who would think so,” said Ransome. “Castro is worth a hatfull of them, but all the same he’ll go to the gallows.” “No, officer. There you sit in the wrong chair. "When Senor Rowthorne cried my name I knew that there was no hope, and I made my preparations. In an hour I shall be-’ dead. ’ ’

“No! Surgeon, quick, that man has poisoned himself. An emetic —” “What you like! It will no difference make,” answered Castro, and dropped into a chair. “Dearnley, a taxi-cab, quick. We must get him to hospital.” Dearnley hurried away. The surgeon moved to Castro and spoke to him; listened to what he had to say and then looked at Ransome, and shook his head.

“No use! But I will try. That wo man there! Did he—?”

“No. Queenie fainted,” said the lady’s husband. “First time since she was born. She’ll be right as a trivet in a few minutes, and I’ll get her away from here.” He looked at Castro and swore. “You didn’t get us, you cursed Dago, but you’ve bust this show for good and all.” “But there is blood on that knife

“Mine I think,” said Charlton. “I caught someone in the dark, aqd was pricked. It must have been he making for Qucenio or the man.” “And one of those shots got Rowtliorne,” said the surgeon. “Not seriously. The miracle is that no one was killed. If you will come with us, Sir Martin, I will dress the shoulder. And Rowthorne will bo better in a bed till morning. What I gave him to get him out of that doped sleep will have its reactions.”

"If Castro lives,” Charlton said to Ransomc later at Scotland Yard, "I shall send Hick Iladleigh to him. He oughtn’t to hang, and he might get him sent to Broadmoor.”

"If the surgeon is right, he’ll want a priest, not a lawyer. And you heard, Sir Martin, the older Castro’s opinion that he and Manoel were Christians — ”

"More so, at any rate, than those others. Get the priest—” "I have already telephoned,” he replied. "Castro may be a killer, but lie has qualities one likes. I’d like to give him every chance.” "Yes,” said Charlton. "Yes.” And then they went out to tho taxi that had been retained. Bobbie was waiting. He had news for her that would lift the shadow from her heart. Then he laughed to himself at some thought which came to him, and which, having explained everything to her, ho laughingly unfolded. "So you sec, dearest, after all,’there was no need for such a hasty wedding.” "No,” she answered, smilingly. "Have you begun the repentance of the hasty?”

"Not that,” he said. "Not that, but, to tell the truth, I’m rather glad it’s over. Do you understand, Bobbie dear?”

"Yes,” she replied, gaily. Ho held out his arms, and she went to them. Then he kissed her and whispered, "The night is ours —unclouded, after all.” "And the day—”

"No! All the everlasting years, my sweetheart.”

Commencing To-morrow—-"THE MARRYING OF MARIETTE” BY MAY WYNNE, the first instalment of which will appear in these columns to-morrow.