At Feverel's Corner.

Wanganui Herald, Volume XXXXVI, Issue 13434, 22 July 1911, Page 10

At Feverel's Corner.

(By Christian Lys.) "Is -tiffs mesage for you— 'Please tell chauffeur waiting for me shall not come. Northwood ?'" The'hall porter at the Charing Cross Hotel read me the telegram as I stood beside the car. J had been waiting there about a quarter of an hour, and it Tvas •till a few mihuteß short of noon. "Yes, thanks, that's all right,"- I answered. He went back into tho hotel, and I was setting on to the car when a woman rtepped beside me. I though she was admiring tho car, which took a lot of beating, but 1 was mistaken "Fardon me, hut Ichanced to hear the message tho porter read to you just now, surelv this car is not for hire?" I looked at her. and did not answer immediately. I could not. She was the kind of woman tliat takes your breath awav and makes a man feel a men; worm. She'was a lady, not English, a though she spoke English perfectly, dark with flashing and compelling eyes, and, although I prefer fair women, 1 am bound to admit she was one of the most perfect specimens of womanhood 1 had ever "It is not for hire in the ordinary way, "But it might be managed," blk> said, with a smile. "It might." "Such opportunities cannot come to rou everv dav," she returned. 'I want to m to' Victoria, where I meet some friends, and tlren to be driven to a place called Feverel's Corner, near Heybridge. "Heybridge. That is in Essex, isn t "Yes. My own car broke down this morning, so I had to come up by train. I suppose I could go somewhere and get a car, but that means delay. It your master is not using his ear. t.<>ll—"lt's a risk," I tonrmured. "\\nat do I gft?" A ,„ "Will twentv guineas tempt your "They do," I said, opening the door for her. "You were right, chances do not come my way even- day." I tmiled as I steered the car into tho Strand, and went along the Mall and on through the Park to Victoria. I wondored what 6he would say it I told her 1 had no master, that the ear was ray own Yet it was for hire; Lord Northwood had hired it and failed to come.

Three months from the time I frit Oxford mv father had died, leaving me fairlv well off, my income being almost cntirolv from two largo private concerns in the, North with which ho had been connected. The sudden failure of both businesses some four years later had practically ruined mo. I had no profession, and when it came to carping moper I speedily discovered how useless a person I wa» I bad tho opportunity of ;narrving monoy, but I was not in lou\ anil marriage without love did not appeal to me as a speculation. It was a -•idden inspiration which put into my head the idea of making use of my car, nnd motoring knowledge, and I lost no time, in letting the world know that James Lewis—l dropped my surname Harrington—and his car was to be hired for touring in England or abroad. On tho whole the enterprise had been fairly successful. Arriving at Victoria, the lady went into the station, saying she might be half an hour, and I occupied tho time in consulting a mad map as to the best route to Hevbridge. When she reappeared she hßd another ladv and two gentlemen with h*r. The lady was young, fair, esceedirglv protty, and evidently rather excited, for she was talking rapidly in a low tone, and the plav she made with her bands showed that sho was a foreigner. As 1 folded up the map I could not help thinking that the two women who approached me stod for two perfect types of beautv. 1 had nover before seen their equal, probably I never shall again. The fair woman attracted me most. Her hair seemed to hold imprisoned sunbeams and her eves to havo horrowed some of heaven's blue, vet, when she first looked at roe. it was "not her beauty which chMv appealed to me. I was convinced that "some fear lingered in her eves, and that they deliberately Questioned me as though their owner realised that I waß not an ordinary chauffeur. What their questioning meant I could not guoss. One of tho men took the seat beside me. He was also a foreigner, and appeared to understand something about motors. I did not much like tho look of him, nor of his companion either, but perhaps I was prejudiced, getting the idea into mv head that the fair lady must have had some real cause for fear while in their company. It was nearlv throe when we stopped for lunrtji at a* roadside inn, and I was told that the car would not. bn wanted tiU five o'clock. The fair lady made sonie remonstrance at remaining so long, which was overruled bv her companion as they entered tho building. The men stood watching mo until I look the car into the garage, and I noticed, or thought I did. that the fair lady ignored their existence altogether. Ovjr a quiet pipe after ray lnnch I tried to fathom the little drama into which I had been drawn, not quite happy in my mind about it. The two men evidently understood each other, and were inclined to keep an eye upon me. I thought; the two young women also seemed to be on excellent, terms. Two things seemed clear—whatever the adventure might be. the fair woman was the centre of it, and she was still afraid. On getting out of the car she had looked at me again in tile same questioning fashion: had I been given a few minutes alone with her 1 believe she would havo told me her trouble.

At five I had the car ready, and the Bamo-mnn took the scat Beside me. He only addressed mo'at intervals, either te ask the "panic of some village we. passed through or to'inquire who lived atr some large house we caught sight" of through the" trees. The latte? questions I could not answer.

Dusk had come, and I had lighted the lamps, when we turned from the main road into that which led into Hoybridgo. The man Inside me evidently know this part of the countrv much l»etter than I did.

"We do not go quite to Hcybridge," he said presently. "Do you know FevercV> Corner?"

"It is marked on the map. To our lefv, isn't it?"

"Yes. The, house we are going lo is there. I will show you the turning." He presently directed me into a narrow road running between high hedges for a » mile or so. and then going across a stretch of common land.

"The house is there on our left," said my companion. "The gates may not He open, so you had better stop outside/' The gates were open, but I pulled the car ud in the roadway. He got down quicklv, and helped out the ladies, who passed up the drive, followed by the other man. The man who sat beside me busied himself with the rugs for a few moments, and then closed the car door. "Madame has given you her instructions?" hn asked. "No."

"Ah. t will remind her You w ;n wait; she will come and speak to you in a moment."

H» went away hurriedly, and the instant ho had got through the gates I was off the car and following him. If the adventure had any mystery in it now was the timo to begin to find it out. A strip of land ran beside the drive which enabled me to follow noiselessly. He caught up the others just as they reached the front door, and I was ready to beat a hasty retreat if Madame tamo back at once. She did not. The houso was low and rambling, so much I could discern; an old-fashioned farmhouse modernised I took it to be. Light shone from two windows on the around floor and from one window above. "When the door opened, I had a glimpse of a comfortable square hail, and of an elderly man servant who stood back to let the visitors enter. They went in ouieklv, and the door was closed. Shadows passed across the blinds of the windows on the ground floor, but no further lights appeared in the windows above: there was only, one light there and no shadows came on to the drawn blind. Of course, all tho windows on the • other side of the house might be blazing with welcome, but somehow I could not believe they were, and 1 dared not make my way round to see lest ray ompiover should come out and become suspicious when she did not find me. in the ear. 1 had quite made up my mind that 6ome underhand game was being played, and had detcrmincid to knock at the" door and ask for instructions so that I might gain an entrance <to tho house, when the door opened and madame stood on the threshold, the man servant behind her I hurriedly stepped aside lest a ray of light should betray rre, and as the door closed and she oan.e down the drive I ran lightly along-the turi and was seated in the car when she came out of the gate. ', "Now wc will get back; to town, suo "Alone!" It was a silly remark, but I had not expected to drive anyone back to-night. ' "Whv not?" and she laufched. It you do not'mind 1 will sit beside you." I murmured something. I hardly know 'what, and she was beside me. I was scheming as I turned the car round. Was I a fool to imagine that something was wrong? Ought I to demand an explanation? „ , , , ~ "We shall have an excellent run back, she said. "There is no fear of police traps." "None." I answered. "And I trust your master will not lind you out." "I am being well paid for running the risk," I said. She laughed. I began. to wonder whether she had guessed I was not an ordinarv chauffeur, or whether she was merelv being pleasant to • me. Most ploasa'nt she certainly was, to a man whose suspicions had been aroused sho seemed to overdo it. "I expect yon wonder what kind of adventure you have been taking part in to-day," she said suddenly. ,~."You are far too Bmart a man to consider it an ordinarv affair." I nearly let her see how keen my curiosity was, but stopped myself just in time. "The affairs of those who hire me can hardly bo any business of mine," I said ; indifferently. "Insensate man," sho returned, "does it not interest you to know that you have taken part in a real romance?" antkabfr, told me the story of the fair woman. Thov had saved her on the very eve of a distasteful marriaef. The man she loved had waited for her at the. house at Feverel's Corner, and to-morrow they were to lie married by special licence at Heybridge. "It has "not been an easy matter, I can assure you," she conclud- ! ed. Hie man we have saved her from is a very important person iudeed. I shoulddearly liko to see what kind of a temper he is in to-night." The tale seemed natural and likely enough, but the teller was not natural. 1 cannot definitely say why I thought so fascinating a woman should strike me as being a very dangerous one. Frankly I did not believe her, and did my best to enter into tho spirit of the affair. I even allowed myself to pay hei; .a J'e.Wj compliments. If she were tjyjpg' to make a fool of me she would think sho was succeeding admirably. We wore approaching a good-sized village. I had noted it as we came, had seen that there was a good inn in the centre of it, and that there was a railway station in the. j neighbourhood. All my fears might bo groundless, but they were too real to bo ! neglected. The woman's manner had I fanned them into brighter burning ; rather than smothered thern, and I was ! determined to get back to the house at Feverel's Corner to-night. I had purposely been driving tho car badly for I some' little time.

"We must pull up here," I said. "I am afraid something has gon« wrong with the steeling gear." "Surely not." "It. looks uncommonly like it, doesn't it " I said,' as I lot the ear slide towards the footpath, while pretending to make strenuous efforts to keep in the middle of the road. Whether I deceived her or not I cannot say; it depended on her knowledge of cars. "Is there A garage handy?" I inquired ef a man standing in the doorway of tho inn.

"Will you wait for me hero?" I said, turning to my companion. •'Oh, no, I will come with you." Scheme number one had failed, but I made no remark, and went slowly and carefully towards the garage. The fates wore with me. The place was shut, and I got out of the car with a growl. "Perhaps it is nothing very serious," said the woman.

"I -hope not. Do you happen to know anything about cars?"

"Not much. Why?" "I thought you might help me, perhaps."

"Tell mo what to do, and I'll do it." she said.

She got down at onre, and I made a great deal of show with the steering wheel. Then I got under the ear, and from my prone position asked her a good many stupid questions, giving myself away completely if she chanced to bo less ignoraut than she. said.

"Is it all right?" she asked as I crawled out.

"It may hold out, I'll soon toll," and I got into the car. "Mind, lam going to turn round."

She stood back, and I let the car turn slowlv and with apparent difficulty. "Will you stand behind and.tell mo if rou can see any swerve, and to which side the swerve is."

The car moved slowly. "A little to the right," she- called out, 'there, to the right again," and then I am pretty certain the car swerved no more for I put on speed and went back through the village. My conscience pricked me a little; if she were honest my conduct was contemptible, but I comfoHed myself with the reflection that I ha'l left her near a decent inn, and there was a station handv if she preferred to <™t bnck to town. Thero was nothing to fear from police traps, but I realised there might be much to fear from a resourceful woman. She might knock up th» garage, got another car, and follow m<-; and although thev were not likely to have one that could overtake mine,

thare might be much to do with the time at my disposal when I reached the house. As I put the car along oh its top speed I made a dozen plans none of which seemed workable. The engine was running splendidly and almost silently—almost. The night was very still, and the soft purring would be heard a long way off, the thought helped mo to a decision. Before I reached the stretch of common I'ran the car through an open gate into a meadow, turned it under a hedge, stopped tho engine, and put out the lights. Then I ran towards the house, not by tho road, but across the grass, intending to get through the hedge into the garden, ' thinking that the gates would probably be watched. 1 stopped suddenly, only just in time, and fell flat upou tho grass to escape observation. Quite close to me someone was speaking in a low tone. "Plenty of time." "The sooner we are off the better. Shall I light up." "Listen! Yes, light up; here he comes."

Another man ran towards them as the lights of a motor gleamed in the darkness not many paces from me, and there was tho whirr of the started engine.

"Tlirow something over those infernal lights for a moment," said the newcomer. "We'll wait and see that it goes all right." For an instant light had. fallen upon the speaker, and I recognised the man who had sat beside mo. There was villainy at work, no doubt of it. For one moment I contemplated attacking tho men by the ear, but it would have been futile'. They were three to one, armed in all probability, and I had not oven a stick to serve as a weapon. I crawled on my hands and knees and then, in a bent position, ran towards the house making for tho gate which could hardly be watched now. Once inoro I ran along the strip of lawn beside the drive. 1 was astonished to find most of the lower windows showing light, and there was a suspicion of light penetrating through thick and closely drawn curtains in many of tho upper ones too. A large house party surely! Tho idea did not remain long. The glow in the windows was red, reddening each moment, and then there were sharp sounds cracking \.i my ears. Tho house was on fire! Was the fair woman still in it? r knew the bedroom in which the light had been, that room at least must have been prepared for a visitor; there was no light there now, but I remembered'that no tree grew near it to make access from the ground possible. Some other way must be found, and 1 dashed round to tho back of tho house. The whole of tho ground floor semed to be blazing, but there was a dark window above me ten or twelve feet from the ground, a stout tree with low-growing branches beside it. In a moment I had climbed up and was beating in the glass, and breaking the woodwork between the panes to get space to enter. I found that the window lighted a narrow stairway. If the woman were in the room whore the light had been 1 might save her, if not, my quest must certainly fail, for smoke was wreathing fiercely as I rushed upstairs.

Thank heaven! she waß there asleep, lying on the bed fully dressed. I touched her, shook her, but she did not move,. 1 put my arms under her to lift her up, and then I knew tho truth. She waf 'either dt>ad or. insensible., the scent of tho drug ffas Strong. I took hor arms and made my' way back to dow. How I ciimbtd down if it'll -my burden I hardly know, btifc' I did manage it, and wont as fast as I could down the drive. As I reached the gate the house burst into flames, and then I heard a motor on tho road. It went by the gate as I stood back amongst tho trees with the senseless woman in my arms. The villains had waited to make quite certain that the house and all it contained were doomed, now they had goiw I carried my fair burden to my car, and it was not long befoieVJ was .'driving furiously towards.,Gqlehostaiii) .'TherO 4 knocked up a^doctor,, and loft her car while I,won.t and told my story to tho poUw. j A-' more dastardly conspiracy could hardly be imagined, nor one moro carefully and diabolically carriod out, and I often shudder to think of what the fate of Claire Lo Maistre must have been had my suspicious not been sufficiently aroused to take me back to Fovorol's Comer that night. What I could tell the police amounted to little so far as helping them to get on tho track of tho villiaus was concerned. Two officers motored to the village where I had left my employer, but she was not to be found at the inn, nor could they get upon any trace of her. It was not until Claire could tell her story that the police wore able to do anything.

Claire's father, a younger member of a good French family and connected by marriage with an Austrian one, had loft her his fortune without conditions, hut ill the event of her death without heirs i it went to a representative of this Austrian family, a certain Count Karl oi Lausse'n. The Count wanted to marry Claire, but she disliked him and refused to have anything to do with him, whereupon lie plotted to get rid of her, and to obtain her fortune. Maclamo Mailly. the woman who had hired me, was amongst those who leagued themselves with the Count, and she set herself to' win Claire's friendship and confidence. Protending to dislike the Count as much as she did, she suggested that Claire could escape from his continued protestations by coming to England; and eventually Madame Mailly crossed the Channel, and took the house at Fevorel's Corner in Claire's name, and one conspirator'posed as a servant there, waiting for his mistress. The other two men. posing as friends of Madame Mailly and haters of Count'Karl, presently accompanied Claire from Paris, and although Claire, could' give no definite reason toi distrusting them, she certainly did so, and '«as intensely relieved to find her friend waiting for her at Victoria. She trusted her implicitly, yet as soon as they had entered the house at the corner, it was this woman who suggested n glass of wine after the motor drive before they changed for dinner, and Claire became unconscious almost as soon as she had drunk it. By asking me to drive her back to town, Madame Mailly Mailly thought she would get rid of me without difficulty. It was unlikely that I should hear of the burning of an old- : fashioned farmhouse of no importance in a remote part of Essex, and if I did, I should very likely say nothing aboui it seeing that I had used my master's car without permission. If I were suspicious, and made a. confession, the conspirators would have had plenty of time I to make good their escape. It must he said that Count Karl denied all knowledge of this plot, and since the other actors in it were not to be found, thorn was no evidence against him Claire has her doubts whether lie was guilty, and is inclined to believe that hi? friends acted without his knowledge. ] have often laughed at her defence of 8 man who is, I am convinced, an unmitigated blackguard. Yes, Claire is my wife. We were married less than twelve months after thai drive, to Fcverel's Corner. After all, J did raarvy a fortune, but I did not marry for money. There is a great difference.'