THE MAN FROM NEWMARKET

Waikato Times, Volume 98, Issue 15321, 23 August 1923, Page 3

THE MAN FROM NEWMARKET

Principal Characters,

JUSTIN OVERTON, a wealthy mystery man, who settles at Newmarket. ROGER SIDCUP, a young spendthrift, ' receives a racing tip from Overton, and they become freinds. Overton telegraphs to postpone an appoantment, but they meet by accident, and Overton, who is with a handsome woman, will not recognise him. At least so Roger believes. MARTIN AYLETT, a successful trainer, who starts a racing establishment for Overton.

CHAPTER IV. Marienne TrevaiLl stood in her room at the Trafalgar Hotel with a letter in her hand. She had read it, and was considering the contents. After, a few minutes she studied it again, then walked to the window and looked out. The hotel overlooked the river, and the warehouses and wharves on the opposite side. Below was the Embankment, where trams were constantly passing along, and bells were clanging incessantly. Taxi-cabs went at a fast rate, and an endless stream of traffic travelled over the bridge. It was a busy, bustling scene, and she liked it. She had arrived from Paris some time before. She was born in Paris not far from the Arc de Triomphe, and the years of her life, from ten to eighteen, were spent in the Convent of the Sacred Heart, with occasional visits home of some weeks’ duration. Her mother died when she was quite a little child, and her place was taken by Elvine' Trevaill, her father’s sister, who acted as housekeeper and looked after things in general .during Roche Trevaill’s frequent absences from home. As she grew older her father took her with him on his journeys to Russia, Germany, Italy, and once as far as Japan. During this time she had no inkling as to the nature of his occupation. They mixed with all classes of people, and he appeared to be in high favour in military and diplomatic circles. She met many men, but few women, and had admirers who seemed anxious to become lovers. Her father gave her plenty of money, and left her very much alone. She was fond of admiration; but not responsive to lovers' appeals. To most men she was as cold as she was beautiful, although one or two special favourites found there was lire beneath the ice. She had been in London several times, but not for long. The present visit was the longest, and there seemed every prospect that it would bo indefinite. Roche Trevaill had seen her once for a few hours during the past month. She had known for several years what he was. At first, when the knowledge came to her suddenly, she was alarmed—staggered, but not shocked. He had trained her too well for that. She was now thirty, and a woman of dominating power, fascinating, aLluring, deceptive—a dangerous companion for a susceptible man, and exerising strange charms over younger men and those of middle age. Old men, too, fell beneath her sway; for she was a wonderful actress—adept In concealing her feelings, and in drawing admirers round her, attaching them to her in many cases with a devotion she did not deserve.

She was a dark, foreign beauty, with fiery, dark eyes, and a mass of hair. Her complexidu was that of a Spaniard, or a woman who had lived under burning suns and felt the glow of the amorous feelings which foster and thrive in southern climes.

The letter which caused her so much thought was from her father, and' the contents aroused her uneasiness. It meant a prolonged stay in London and some difficult undertakings. She had the entree into good society, and was invited to receptions at several embassies, to routs at fashionable hotels, and on several occasions to country house; and all this in the course of a few months. She was to be found at a celebrated night club, in houses not so celebrated, and she appeared to have numerous acquaintances among the various foreign elements with which London abounds.

Shu was popular and known by sight to hundreds of people always attracting attention when she went to the theatre or some great reception. Her beauty was magnetic. Her flashing alluring eyes spoke eloquently across a room, or a dinner table. Men always wished to be introduced to her, and when their desire had been attained they lingered by her side exerting themselves to please, and angling for some token of her favour.' She dressed well, with a touch of freedom from conventionalities which suited her style ol' beauty. Mariennc Trevaill, however, was very much of a mystery, and nobody appeared to know exactly who or what she was.

The people with -whom she mixed seemed to be a sufficient guarantee that she was of good family and Irreproachable character, and very few inquiries were made about her. Sometimes questions were asked to which there were no answers, and naturally none were addressed to her. She knew her position, and that a false step would destroy it. She was careful not to take that step, not to run any risks in this direction. She remained at the window watching the scene; the letter seemed to have faded from her mind. , Her face softened; the hard look vanished; she was showing her heart on her sleeve, but nobody was there to sec. Only to herself did she relax her worldly feelings. It was warm and sunny; the window was open. She sat down, leant her elbows on the sash, and watched without noticing. The constant movement was an accompaniment to her feelings, which were in somewhat of a tumult. There was a soft, vulnerable spot somewhere, and probably a man had found it. Perhaps she had made him suiTer, and through him had hurt herself, or maybe he had caused the pain and felt it himself. The letter dropped from her hand and lay on the floor unheeded. Her eyes looked across the water with a fixed stare, but there was fire burning behind them. It must have been half an hour before she moved. When she got up the look had vanished. She picked up the letter and read it fothe third time. It contained a per omptory demand, which she resented and felt inclined to disobey. Yet I do so would bring penalties and risks not alone to herself but to others. One sentence in the letter stood out from the rest.

“It. means thousands of pounds to me, to.us—a fortune. It is of vast importance. You must worm out thr information, even if it costs you demand sacrifices friends. There is no way out. It must be done, and at once.”

She crushed the letter in her hand, then lit a candle and burnt it. The

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black ashes she conccscd and placed in a small bag. “lie goes too far,” she said to herself. “He drives me too hard. He is my father, but he owes me more. Without my help he could not have accomplished a tithe of what he has done. A traitorl" she gave a slight shudder. “It is an ugly word, the ugliest in any language. And to such a nation as France. I love Paris. I love France. Then why do Ido these things at his bidding? He has never told me why he does them, or for whom; but I know —I can guess—and the money comes from the enemies of my country. Sometimes it burns my fingers; but I love money. It means so much; and I have a liberal share.”

She -went to her bedroom, put on her things, and left the hotel. A taxi took her to Hyde Park Corner. She got out and walked across the road to the other side of the Row. There were still a few riders on the tan, and carriages were beginning to come through the gates. She was generally alone when she went out, but seldom remained so for long. No sooner had she crossed the road than a gentleman, raising his hat, spoke to her. He had a foreign accent. They both spoke English and French perfectly, but when they met in London they used the language of the country. He was evidently an old acquaintance; he was about forty, a fine, well-set man, the picture of health, and he had the body of an athlete. His name was Nicholas Anovitza.

He had a bright, open face, clear eyes, a merry smile, and a rather fierce moustaohe. He greeted her cheerfully, calling her Marienne, lingering over the name as though he loved it, and gazed at her greedily. There was no mistaking the warmth of his feelings. They had met in many places—in Petersburg, before it became Petrograd, in Vienna, Berlin, and, last but best Paris, where he was attached to\ the Russian Embassy. He came of an old noble family. His ancestors had done great deeds, and had been rewarded with money, lands and honours. He was rich, powerful, well bred, a much-travelled man, of great experience and of many virtues and some faults. One of his weaknesses was gambling in every form, and a passionate love of women and horses. He was a widower. There were 111-natured people who said dark deeds were connected with his wife’s death. He heard of them, and laughed them to scorn.

He first met Marienne Trevaill at Monte Carlo, where he came under her spell, and he remained her admirer. At first she avoided him; but, urged on by her father, she became more agreeable and encouraging, and eventually liked him better than most men. “You are looking radiant,” he exclaimed. “The sun always smiles on you. What a charming woman you are.”

“Am I? I wonder how many L;mf? you have told me so?” "Many, very many times, and i mean It. You know I mean it," he persisted. “Perhaps I do; but so many men are deceivers." “And all women are open and candid?”

“Oh, no, indeed they are not. I am. It pays best.” “You cannot help your nature. Do not say it is lor pay,” he objected. “What are you doing- here? 1 do not often see you in the Park,” she questioned. “I am generally riding before you are out of bed,” he replied. “I am not a late riser.” “But you do not come out early.” “No; in a place like London early risers are regarded with suspicion. 111-natured people might think I had been out all night." He laughed. "You could never be guilty of such an indiscretion,” he murmured. She glanced at him quickly. He was in earnest. They walked along by the Row, chatting freely. Many people looked at them, for they were a handsome couple. An hour later he left her. As he did so he said:

“You have promised. I will take a box. We will have a delightful evening. lam afraid I shall not see much of the play.” “Why not?" “I shall be feasting my eyes on you, Marienne,” he returned. She returned to the hotel about lunbh-time. She had a healthy appetite, and seldom neglected her meals. A letter awaited her. “The gentleman wrote it there, and asked me to hand it to you immediately you came in,” said the man.

She took it up to her room, opened it, glanced at the signature, and gave an exclamation of suprise. “So soon, 1 ' she thought. .“Something important must have happened." The name at the end of the brief note was “Justin Overton.” (To be continued to-morrow.)