DORINCOURT'S TEMPTATION OR, HONOUR AGAINST INTEREST.

Waikato Times, Volume 89, Issue 13892, 18 October 1918, Page 3

DORINCOURT'S TEMPTATION OR, HONOUR AGAINST INTEREST.

(ill Rights Reserved.?

• # By ARCHIBALD THANE.

CHAPTER I. THE LUCKIEST MAN IN THS CITY. Chicago—in the first few days of the year of grace eighteen hundred and eighty-four. The early winter twilight is falling rapidly. One by one the street lamps outside are becoming noticeable spots of light in the gathering darkness. It is no unusual thing in such a busy office as that of Cyril Darincourt, agent for the great English banking house of Blair and Co., to find the lights burning long after five o'clock, but to-day, being Saturday, work should be pretty well over even here. Quite out of the usual course of things, however, the private office of the manager himself still has its door closed—a sure sign that the august presence of tbis magnate is still within—and through the ground glass in its partition the glow of light is still visible. The routine work of the numerous under-clerks being fiuished this long time, they have departed, one by one, to their various suburban homes, but the detention of the manager himself necessitates the continued attendance of his two immediate subordinates, who thus pay dearly for the priceless privilege of being near his person. Crayson, the bond clerk (who is spoken of on the sly among the numerous underlings as "the bond servant"), and Kirkland Keith, the cashier, have cot to trie point of exchanging a glance of inquiry over their high des'cs, and to nod meaningly in the direction of the partition. Forming the words with his lips, without the assistance of sound, Grayson throws the question across to Leith : "What in the world's keeping him?' —a question which only pets a dubious chake of the head for answer.

Leith has some time since given up any r.how of keeping himself occupied. He yawns quite unbluphinply as he gets down from his high chair and begins to put away his books, just as the tinkling of the electric bell of the ini:cr ofllco attracts hi 3 attention.

It is really Grayson's business to answer it, being the lowest in rank present ; but, without knowing exactly why, Leith walks acros3 the room and himself puts his hand upon the doer which bears the ominous word "Private" printed across its ground-glass pane!.

The room he enters is as luxuriously iurniphod as any private oFlce can be. Its dimensions, although not giwit, Jire well-proportioned, and arc mr.»ie the most of by the few pieces of handsome furniture it contains. Across the floor is stretched a goo.l:'izeu Persian rug, supplemented by a smaller one in front of the open grate n which afire is burning. Upon this rccond rug stood Cyril Dorincourt, owner of all this luxury, directly fronting the door. A man, perhaps, of not over one or two and thirty, tall, well nfade, strikingly handsome ; there could not be two opinions as to that, though people might have differed greatly as to the cha.rm of the expression whieh pat upon the calm, well-chiselled features. "Ah, it is you, Mr. Leith. 7 only rang to say that I shall probably be detained some time longer over some writing ; but that need not kesp you or any of the others. I can ring for the janitor when I want to have the rooms locked. You may close the sr.fe and all the desks except mine. By-the-byc, any letters by the last mail?" "Yea, sir ; one for you, marked 'Private.' I didnt like to interrupt yon, so I didn't bring it in before." "Ah, very well, then. That will be all. Good night." "Good sir."

"oh, ons moment. I meant to ar/: you if that Hartniar.n interrac ha;: '.icon paid yet. It v.-a? due—let me see. When was it due ?" "Weil, as you know, that loan was eomcthing I gave my personal attention to. I'm so perfectly satisfied with the security that I'm not at all worried about it. You needn't pre:;:; i.hc:n for payment as yet. I shall continue to keep an eye on the thing myself. That's all. Good night." The manner of the Dorincourt Agency was eerlainly in cne of hi 3 mo:;t gracious moods to-ni^ht. The business instinct wan very well developed in Cyril Dorincourt. If it kad not been, he would not have occulted the position he did at thirty-two —a position to which he had raised 'iimre!f by his own unaided efforts ?rer:i the sordid poverty of his boyhoed, till now he was known in the liur.iness world in which he lived ay "Lucky Dorincourt." How much luck there was in hi:: present high succors he himself, perhaps, "'a* the only one who knnv. Other people only saw that everything he had touched for yearn had turned to gold. What did they" know ci t!.r years of self-abnegation, of rigid th r itt, which had enabled hirr: to command such results from Fortune ?

His su:cor.s was e.i apparent, fa a means bv which ha bid reach f» it unknown, it wars no wonder tlmt, I>!ind Chance had been Kiven credit for it all. Blind ("hnr.ee is always wk'i t'::> vast, unnurnhrr-d multitude v.ho, -;c cording to their own account, luvr never possessed her favour?. Perhape her continued smiles l a-.' begun to have r. softer, inu' ir/iiww upon Cyril Dorincourt/1- urJ.CTi'inr ture. Kirklnnd l.citb was certain!conscious of a warmer tc;»2 i:i 'i' voice thr.n he Lad cvti- known \.ucu' f as he returned hip oni

Dowea nimseit out. Dorincourt himself stiil stood upon his hearthrug where the cashier had left him, the smile still playing: about the corners of his well-shaped mouth, holding in his hand, still unopened, the letter which Leith had handed him, which he folded and unfolded quite mechanically, as if bis mind was upon other matters. Had you watched him closely then, and had been a student of the human face, you would have noted that, instead of the smile about the lips, the man before you was listening intently. One—two—three minutes paused. The footsteps of the two clerks in the outer office were audible enough as tbny moved about among the desks, with the occasional snap of a lock as they turned a key. Then—at last !—the outer door closed with a heavier sound, and he knew he was alone. The sudden change which came over the face would have betrayed that this was no unwelcome consciousness, had it been unaccompanied by any further action, but almost before the echo of the closing door had died away Cyril Dorincourt's listless calmness was thrown aside as if it vfere a garment, and the colour of the face, before so white, deepened with a suppressed excitement which no one in his everyday world had ever seen there. His first action was to pass rapidly through the now deserted outer office, cautiously open the outer door and listen—listen so intently that the perfect stillness of the huge officebuilding where he stood was almost oppressive in its intensity. Y. 7 ith a smile of renewed satisfaction at the evident completeness of his isolation, he softly closed the door and as softly turned the key in the great lock ; then turned and retraced his steps, closing, in its turn, the inner door of ground glass behind him.

So far he had shown no hesitation in his movements, some all-prevail-ing purpose being evident in every motion ; but once sure of his own solitude, he went about his work more Blowly, as a man sure of his opportunity, and determined to prove it to the utmost.

In spite of the fire in the grate, which still burned brightly, the room was far from over-hcated ; yet he now proceeded to divest himself of his loosely-fitting sac coat, which he threw across the back of a chair, and began deliberately turning out the contents of the pocket, consisting largely of various letters and papers. Some of these he merely glanced® at, some he read carefully, but all, with one exception, were, at the termination of the inspection, twisted into unrecognisable shape between his smooth white hands, and thrown into the blaze upon the hearth.

The pile of charred paper in the grate showed plainly that this was by no means the first instalment NDf

Cyril. Dorincourt's correspondence which had met this fate, and if prying eyes had been allowed to investigate the inner recesses of the carved desk by which he stood, they might have found the source from which had been drawn the material for this conflagration in the mass of neatly-fold-ed papers among which he had been busy for the last three hours. Once or twice during this week he had placed his hand almost mechanically on the inner pocket of his vest and touched a small, hard substance, as if to make sure of its close proximity. The fascination of it, whatever it was, seemed to grow upon him as he finished his clerical workseemed to have full possession of him as he folded the last of a lot of letters, about which he snapped a rubber band and wrote across the back of them in a clear, bold hand the one word, "Finished." "Most appropriate word, too. 1 " he muttered, as he rose from his officechair, closing the roll top of the desk as he did so. "I only wish the whole thing could be finished as well, but it won't be considered" neat at all by Gome people."

Then he glanced at the clock, and started to see how time had flown. Seven already. He had counted on the whole thing being over by this time, yet he could not accuse himself of delay. He almost smiled to himself at the thought of any possible fear on his part. Fear ! His only regret was what the night's work would show the world.

That touched his pride. It was simply proclaiming from the house-tops that he, Cyril Dorincourt, the idol of fortune, had played a risky game and lost. Ah, that was what touched him. He pictured to himself the unlocking of the doors in the morning. Dobbs, the janitor, would probably be the first to come in. For the first time in his life he felt a great personal interest in Dobbs. Although he had passed him on the stairs almost every day for the last ten years, he had some difficulty in trying to remember what kind of a man he was. Being a low, ignorant sort of a fellow, it was safe to say that he would make noise enough when he found something ghastly lying across the Root of the inner oliice in the light of the grey winter morning. Then there would be the scurrying of many feet, the sending of many message.?, with the centre of attraction and of repulsion there before them on the ofiiee floor. Lat.vr on there would come the opcnn~ of desks and papers. He rrruieu again, mc.-t confident. n« lie glarccd towards his own and thought how disappear led they would be in that. In one thing only would their c-iosity he excited. The papers :ca.l.:i.:; to the famous Hartmann mortgage woald riot be found there, nor in the safe, r.or, fcr that matter, anyvhe:e else, al! for the very h.bt of rearons —they had never existed. And yet they represented the security for a sum of mou^y—n very large sum of money—which hod been

drawn from Hlair and f .'o. five years ;.:jj invested in this, in ~'.ic eyea c.t tha English bankers, reliable security, for their perfect confidence in .American representative was 1 ro'. or-' ial. And until now the interest had been paid. Ah, until now! There were a good many things which, had gone on very smoothly until now which were shortly going to run down. The simile brought his mind back to the beautifully-carved timepiece upon the mantel, which already pointed to half-past th? hour. He walked to the window and looked out into the now deserted street. The coldness and rawness of the night made him shiver, and he turned from it as he had turned all h ; s life from anything uncongenial. Pshaw ! What was the use of it all? A struggle to keep one's head above water—thnt was all. With great success like his own, the enjoyment of a few 6hort yearß of the glitter of wealth and position, and then—the end. And why should not that end come now as any time ? What difference did it mal.e to him what men raid of him—afterwards ? Would he be there to hear it ? The clock hands already pointed to n quarter of the hour. Only fftecn minutes more, and they were ticking past him very fast. To his excited imagination the very f:;ce of the clock'had a i.ji'.ch »<'* i-'jnv abo'.it it, as if it were wondering if he dare do it. Dare ! Had he ever

been known to draw back when he had once taken a resolution ? \nt its carrying out meant death or rv.in to a dozen men—and v.liy now, wle.i it only meant death to one ? His moment's hesitation left him at the thought, and with a firm step ho walked across the room one more to th* l fire, and thrust his hand der:. into the inner pocket of his vest. As he did so his fingers touched a paper—a paper he did not remember to have placed there. He drew it out with a touch of curiosity which rather surprised himself—a curiosity which deepened as he noted that it was the letter Leith had handed him as he left the office, and which he had thrust there from force of habit. He gave the clock almost, an apologetic lor.k as he broke the seaL lie felt almost as he did so he was cheating it out of a promised denouement which war. to have taken place come time since.

"Pshaw !" he said to himself, impatient at the strength of his own fancyv "What difference does ten minutes, more or less, make ? It will be over coon enough."

CHAPTER 11. THE DEAD H \>-D. Faithful to an eld habit, he gb.rrcd at the signature before reading the letter. The name he read there only heightened his interest in the perusal, for Philip Watermann was the poorest of correspondents, and although c..e of the few close friends Cyril court had, he could have r.mrber-d the letters bad had ever received from him on the fingers of one »iand. He smiled to himself r.s he noted the dashing caligraphy so tic of the writer, which covered short half page of business paper. It read: — Dear Dorinccurt.—lt rtvi!:?*; no a? rather odd that I should take it upon myself to acquaint you with the death of old Gresr, for, if report speaks true, you arc a sort of agent of his, and as such are probably kept better informed of his aflairs than I should be in the usual course of things. As a matter of fact, I happened to be called in as medical advi jer when the old man was pretty near hie end. He had absolutely no ore with hirn but a neighbour or two, who came in through pity, I suppose, and he-.ng ol an economical turn, they had only sent for me at the last moment, having contented themselves thus far with the services of a ocal pe.rct : - ticr.er, whom I strongly suspect of practising without a diploma. However that may be, I doubt if any one could have saved him from the start. He was uncont.eicus for the entire time I was with him, save once, when he roused himself and rcemed to recognise one or two of the faces around him, mine among them. E::t even then his mind was very far frcm ciear ; he kept muttering to himreli something about hi", property, r.2-1 cnee, I think, mentioned your name.

He had, I should j'idg-c, placed rcmething in your bandn Tor eafekc>.pirg from what i caught further, go I suj pose it will be your duty to f-o tit: ov.gh the form o f looking up ais heirs, though he ie generally credited with being entirely along in the world, and having left a dra 1 of property. The former, I £? : npo<-e, is pretty near the truth ; the latter, as in meet cares of this kind, very much exaggerated. On the viioie. *.•„ slv.c': me na a rather intererl i:".- :• rr. ni:atl cee you later about it.-Yr-v.-.: c.'or, WATiii:?.iA::::. The letter fell frcm C; v 1 Derir.couri'6 hand as ae sanL :nto,hir. chair. What a \v'eulth of re.::..?'...recces it

called up, and above every other memory . certain five years arro, when jr. thin Earns cfi 1 ?? b: >id pnrtcd vith the man which lie scfs;cu very r.ntioas not to conceal ! (To lie Cuptihiii'.:.)