The Lady of The Tower

Waikato Times, Volume 97, Issue 15999, 30 May 1924, Page 3

The Lady of The Tower

(ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.)

CHAPTER XX'(Continued)

Her first impulse was to run with she letter to Mrs Pengarvan, hut she eheeked it and sal, down again. It wo ll ld be beyond the wit of that good motherly woman to devise any way out T the difficulty which she could not hink of herself, and the only one 'hicli occurred to her would certainly 01. win Mrs Pengrarvan’s approval, ven for the sake of saving Lance. Mo, in future she would he denied Hie consolation of sharing tier trouble with tier old friend. She would have !o go on to Hie bitter end, bearing ’■er cross alone. This last blow came near to crusting her. The terrible significance of he dead man’s letter «s a weapon against her lover was patent enough. The world would say—especially would the police say—that Lance on being handed his formal dismissal by ! Jacob Polgleaze had struck the old j man down, file did not for an instant believe that he had done so, hut she could not see how it was to be disproved. And, shuddering, she remem--1 bered that often in the annals of crime j the innocent had suffered for the 1 guilty. So with dull eyes she sat and j brooded, and then suddenly her un- ] seeing gaze over the heaving waters i became fixe;l and concentrated. The | smudge cf smoke on the horizon had, i during her distraction, came much i nearer. It. was almost opposite the I window now. and she could see the j hull of the steamer that gave it birth. | With a catch in her breath she j snatched up the binoculars. Yes, it j was “The. Lodestar,” toiling ‘up chan- | nel for her home bearing i her young commander to the grip of , his enemy. ; With a long sigh she put down the classes, and went over to her writing- : (able. Finding a telegraph form and i addressing it to Wilson Pci sleaze, she i wrote ouickly: [ “Must see you at once. Will acj cede to your terms in exchange for ! Hie original of your father’s letter. | Bring it with, you.” | “And I will shoot myself on the day i I keep my compact,” she murmured ; as she rang for Timothy to take the message to tlie post office two miles away.

CHAPTER XIX. What the Mail Driver Found. For the first time in her life Hilda was ill at ease with Mrs Pcngarvan when they met at luncheon. For the first, time in her life she had a secret from the kindly woman who had been a second mother to her, who was the mother of (he man she loved. Up to a certain point they talked freely enough—of the passing of “Tile Uodestac," and of the dark menace that hung over “The Lodestar's” captain. But of the graver peril foreshadowed by the infamous letter of William Polghazo, and of the desperate step she had taken to prevent it, iliida dropped no hint. Devoted cas was the staunch Cornish lady lo her son. she would have had no countenance for the girl's grim scheme for savincr him.

Hut. aparl from (hat added load io Hilda's burden, there was plenty to

discuss m this sad advent of one whose previous homc-comingj had been so many bright milestones on the long road of uneventful existence at the eyrie on the cliff. Would Wilson Polgleaze carry out the threats which lo the elder woman were still vague and more or less unreal, though to Hilda lo 'terribly magnified by that morning's message from Ihe old shipowner's crave'.' Would Lance reach home that night? Or would something hinder him? The two poor souls tried lo talk; as Ihcy so often bad before a Her seeing "The Lodestar" go by, about the duties that might keep their boy from them till the morning. But each knew what was in the mind of the other, or thought she did. And at any rate Hilda knew.

The afternoon was a nightmare of suspense for both of them. Mrs Pengarvan had only one calculation io make—how soon would Lanee arrive at St. Runan's Tower if nothing occurred at Falmouth to slop him. Hilda had a more complex sum to do, and it was concerned rather with the arrival of Wilson Polgleaze with the incriminating letter than with the exact time at which Lance would reach them. Would her persecutor have received her telegram in time, to draw him off before the steamer was signalled? And if so, what was the earliest moment

when the haled screech of his motor car could be heard in the drive? With a man of his erratic habits it

was impossible to form any correct estimate of time or distance. He might have been out when her telegram was delivered, foregathering with bis cronies in one of his haunts; or he might have had early news of the approach of the steamer and put his threat into operation before the receipt of her summons. But, supposing there was no untoward bitch, she could not see how he could reach The Tower till four o'clock in the afternoon at the soonest.

But that hour passed, and there was no sign of the visitor, whom Hilda, while'loathing him so bitterly, so greatly desired lo see. And four more hours had dragged by, each one adding to her dread that the worst had happened, and that her telegram had either been disregarded or had miscarried, when far off Ihe bum of a motor sounded on the still evening air. It bad been dark for some time, and Hilda and Mrs Pcngarvan were sitting in the. hall, where Marigold Craze had been invited lo join them. Pale as a ghost. Hilda went to the front dor, Ihe other two following her movements anxiously. " Surely, if isn't that wretch from Falmouth," said Mrs Pcngarvan, who knew nothing of Hilda's invitation lo Wilson Polgleaze. "Listen, dear!" breathed the girl at Hie door, and a hush fell on the raftered chamber, broken only by the rapidly nearing throb of a petroldriven engine. With straining ears the three women heard if breast the shoulder of the hill, and turn in at the entrance gales.

" It isn't a car at all; I think it's a motor cycle," said Hilda, with a strangled sob. " Oh, what can it mean —a messenger to s;jy that Lance has been arrested?" But it was Lance himself who, 50 seconds later, dismounted at the,door ■and look bis mother and sweetheart by turns to bis arms. Though it was the first time he had ever kissel her openly Hilda yielded lo his embrace'as a matter of course. For a while the two women hung round him lovingly, making much of him with incoherent laughter and tears. Then he shook himself free.

"I suppose you know there's trouble," be said, and stopped short, seeing Marigold standing shyly in the background. "Yes. my son. we know, and Marigold is sharing it with us," Mrs Pengarvan reassured him. "You can speak before her, and we will tell you

By HEADON HILL (Author of “By a Hair’s-Breadth“The One Who Saw," “Her Grace at Bay,” “Millions of Mischief," etc.)

our part afterwards. Did anything happen when you reached port?" Lance squared his broad shoulders, fhen with a queer laugh, sat down rather heavily.

"A good many tliinss happened." h? said in a voice which his hearers hardly recognised. "First I got the sack, in a letter from the Arm handed mo directly I dropped anchor. The chap from the office who came aboard with il —a new man I didn't know — looked at me as if I'd got the plague. No reasons given or anything. I got myself put ashore and made for the office to demand explanations, though, of course, I guessed that the arms shipment, was at Hie bottom of it. I hadn't gone three steps when I met Jones, the skipper of the 'Orinoco,' who told me that old Jacob was dead —murdered on the day we sailed." "You had not heard of it at Santa Barbara, by cable?" asked Mrs Pengarvan.

"I had heard nothing. The agents had not been notified. Well, I went along to the office intending to have it out with that bright beauty, Wilson —now, God save us, head of the firm. I hardly knew the place. The old loft is fitted up with mahogany desks, and there were three clerks at work. But Wilson Polgleaze wasn't there. The clerks told me that he had started off in his car an hour before, and wasn't expected back during business hours. In the shop below, on my way out, I had a few words with Isaacs, the salesman. We have always been friendly, and he showed me the quarter where the wind sits. 1 am suspected of having murdered the old man."

"Not generally, I hope, dear," Mrs Pcngarvan interposed. "Not by those who know you. But Wilson Polgleaze for his own ends insinuates-^-" "What ends?" Lance cut her short.

"He has had the presumption to raise his eyes to Hilda, and has been seeking to frighten us into a bargain —her hand as the price of your safety. Needless to say we scorned his suggestions." "I should think so, indeed," Lance gritted his teeth. "We were sure that when you returned you would be able to refute his vile calumnies.'' But for all her brave words the mother glanced at her son with a cov_ ert anxiety which his answer failed to dispel. iTo be continued to-morrow.)