The CARNATION CLUB

Waikato Times, Volume 96, Issue 15866, 12 December 1923, Page 3

The CARNATION CLUB

BY COL. HENRY CURTtESjb

CHAPTER XXXVII. Brentley Mill. Borrodaile sat in his room the next morning with Ihe freshly arrived newspaper before him. He had been reading it while taking his early cup of tea.

He seemed stupefied by something he had read in it. He sat with the paper on his knees and the paragraph seemed to grow bigger before his eyes. "A marriage has been arranged and will shortly lake place between Sir Roland Merritt, Bart., of Cheviotsidc and Berkerly Square, and Mona, daughter of the late Lord Harcourt." "After all," he said with a sigh, "what does it matter to me? It has all been just an idle dream; but she might have told me. Shall I go out with her to-day or not?" He sat and mused over it, and it seemed to matter greatly to him. fur he dreamed over the paper for a long time.

"I will go," he said at last, for he could not resist if, "because it may be the. last time I shall ever be with her alone."

"Where shall we go, Miss Harcourt?" Borodaile asked after breakfast as he met her at the foot of the hotel staircase. Pal stood aloof at her approach and offered no salutation. She gave the last touches to her white gloves and passed through the door witli Borodaile.

"If you will confide yourself to me," she suggested, "I will take you a lovely walk to Brentley Mill. It is an old ruined mill high up on the Downs, and you gel Ihe most beautiful views of the sea from it. 1 went there the second day 1 was here." So they sel off for Brenlley Mil!, Pal keeping close In his master with iiis tail down.

"!!ul how aboul lunch?" enquired Borrodaile. consulting his pockel map. '[ see II is about live m'.les away."

"There is an excellent inn in Ihe illage," she answered, "where we an gel quite a good lunch."

She walked by his side, stick in hand, with the easy swiny of an English girl in perfect health. Pal kepi •.in his own way on the other side of Ihe road, ever alert for the scent of a rabbit or a rat. Once or twice he branched off on a scent and had to be • ailed hack. Borrodaile walked with i. heavy heart, for the happiness of the previous days was ended. lie knew now thai he was by the side of a girl who would soon belong to another man.

"You are quiet to-day. Aubrey," she said, addressing him by his Christian name for Use first time—she had only learned it the day before—"Whal is Ihe matter?" lie started when she called him

"Aubrey," and looked at her intently, but nor face was perfectly placid. She seemed to him the last girl in Ihe world who would indulge in wilful flirtation.

"Oh, I was only busy wilh my thoughts," he answered. "Wasting time, for they were not worth thinking about."

She called to Pal and called him "Piccolo." It seemed a strange expression to use to a dog; and then lie remembered that she had lived for years in Italy. Pat ignored the endearment and continued on his way, now close to grass.

"You lived in Italy for some time, did you not?" Borrodaile askod. "I noticed you used an Italian word just now."

A little frown gathered on her face. "Yes," she answered, "I have travelled nearly ah over Italy." "Hid you like it?" he asked. "No," was the short answer, "let us talk of something else.

She amused him wilh talk of golfing, motoring—io which she was deviled—and sport of all kinds. She amazed him by her acute knowledge of these subjects. Presently they reached the old mill, standing on a beautiful but vers' lonely spot, with a lovely view of Scarborough and the sea in the distance. They sat down on a stone at the foot of the mill, and fell into silence; then an uncontrollable impulse made Borrodaile speak. "You must allow me to congratulate you, Miss Harcourt," he said.

She turned to him in surprise "On what?" she asked.

"Upon your approaching marriage to Sir Roland Merrilt," he answered. "It was in this morning's paper." The fair placidity of her face underwent a change which he could hardly have believed possible; she sprang to her feet.

"Is that in the paper already?" she asked.

"I read it myself this morning," he answered. "Why did you not tell me ?"

Her whole figure shook with anger; to him she was not the girl he had walked out of Scarborough with that morning. She seemed a fury. He rose to his feet and faced her. Pat hung around him and gave a low growl. " How dare you interfere with my affairs?" she answered with glowing eves from which all ihe grey softness had vanished. "You have done enough of that already." " I have only done my duty, he answered. " Your duty as a bloodhound, she anssvered, " to hunt down a woman. You thought yourself very clever to lav a trap for mc at the Carnation Club, hut how did it end? Who showed the most brain power? He stepped back from her as if she had struck him wilh a whip. The whole thing Hashed upon him in a moment. ~ ~„ '•Now I know who you are, he cried- "you arc the murderess whom I have hecn tracking down for months. Ml the excuses and plausible accounts of your movements were trumped-up lies!' I was a tool not to arrest you a. Harcourt House." mm laushted scornfully al him. " Your "newly-acquired knowledge will be of very little use to you." she said. "You shall never leave I his spot alive." ~ . ~ " I am nol afraid of your threats. he answered, approaching her. " I arrest vou in the King's name for Hie murder of the Duchess of Longshire." Her onlv answer was a laugh. - Your hmies shall red in I Ids lonely spot," she cried, " UUlil years hence someone finds them in Ihe old ruined mill."

Then in a mamonl she whipped a smell Browning pistol from her pockel and levelled il al him: bill she had left one element oul of her calculations: ami Dial was Pat. Willi one leap he seized her pistol hand by Ihe wrihl and hung on Io il. Before she could lire Borrodaile knocked the weapon oul of

up. Then he approached her and seized her right arm. "You fool!'' she cried.

In a moment her disengaged hand went up to her head, and she drew a hat pin from it. Before Borrodaile could prevent her, she pricked him deeply in the hand that held her. For a moment he stood and saw her looking at him scornfully and triumphantly; then his head swam and he fell himself falling. Borrodaile opened his eyes and felt his head burn with intolerable pain. He was still near the old Mill. Someone was bending over him and looking down into his face, it seemed someone whom he; knew very well. He looked again. It was Lord Leopold Branter, and in his hand he held a small hypodermic syringe. Borrodaile lay in a half stupor looking alternately at Lord Leopold Branter's face bending over him and the broken sails of the old windmill. Something warm vvas touching his hand; he Looked down: it was Pat licking him. He felt as if he wanted to sleep for a week. "You must try and shake off this lethargy," (Mine the voice of Lord Leopold. "Do you think you could walk to the bottom or the hill if I helped you? There is a car wailing for us there."

Borrodaile raised himself on his elbow, and with the assistance of Branter. sat up: then he saw to his astonishment that the sun was setting. "How long have 1 been here?" he asked.

"You have been asleep fur some hours." was the answer, "Iml you have been well looked after." He iininli'if In a ri].-- lying on Hi l ' grass by his side.

Pal had retired to a distance, and had gingerly laki'ii a scat, shivering as dogs do when they are cold or have received a shock.

"Now." continued Branter, "fry if you can get upon your feel, and 1 will help you down to the car. Once standing up, Borrodaile felt better: leaning on Brantcr's arm he stumbled more than walked down the hill to where the car waited. With Branter on one side and the chaffeur on the other, he succeeded in getting in the car; then the former and Pat got in, and they started. *o was in a half dreamy slate all the five miles to Scarborough, and hardly spoke; when they were Hearing their destination Branter shook him. "Now I want you lo listen lo what I am going to say." lie urged, "because it is very important both for yourself and others. I am going to have you put to bed at the Hotel. I shall call in a doctor, and you must tell him—or ! will —that you arc suffering from an overdose of morphia. II is not far from the truth. You will iheu receive the right treatment, and get well. Do you understand?" "Yes. I understand," Borrodaile answered. "And you agree to it," Branter asked. "Yes, I agree In it," was the reply. He felt ready to agree to anything, if they would only put him to bed and let him sleep. "Now, when you are well," added Branter, "we will go into this matter thoroughly. Till then not a word lo anybody. Do you promise?" "Yes," answered Borrodaile drowsily, "I promise." (To be continued to-morrow.)