THROUGH THE SILENT NIGHT.

Waikato Times, Volume 110, Issue 18393, 29 July 1931, Page 4

THROUGH THE SILENT NIGHT.

(By WILLIAM GUIDOTT.)

CHAPTER XI. (Continued.) “Oh, but indeed they are,” Mrs Leighton waved 'her hands charmingly. “They are ail the most expert ”* Then, suddehly breaking off, she said in a puzzled tone: “But you are looking at Marcia. My Maroia, you know, my daughter, she was at school when you used to come and see me. Oh!" with a merry laugh, "I do believe you thought she was one of my criminals. 1 must ■tell her; she will 'be so amused.” Jim tried to make a suitable remark, but floundered hopelessly, and Cyril's smiles exasperated him. “•Don't he an idiot,” he remarked, under his breath, as he returned to his seat, but his eyes wandered continually to the wonderful face, with its pure profile. How superior he had felt when Cyril had talked about his unknown divinity, but now he himself was completely bowled over by a photograph. It was incredible, but he had a strange feeling that there would be no peace of mind for him until he had met the original. What a fool lie had been to have missed meeting her for all this time.

“Jim!" Cyril’s voice wrenched his thoughts back to the common-place world, and for a moment he blinked dazedly at Mrs Leighton’s outstretched hand.

“Good-bye, Mr Elverston; I’m so sory I have to go, but Doris will give you tea, and I mustn’t keep my committee waiting. Doris, dear, when Marcia comes in tell here there are just a few envelopes to address, and •she might enter up 'the new members for me when she has time. Marcia is so interested in my work, you know.” A tremulous smile floated across to Cyril, embraced Jim halfway, and finally included Doris, as Mrs Leighton collected her gold bag with its accompaniment of musically jingling etceteras, and drifted out of the flat; Jim Elverston saw her 'to the door, but his face was grave and preoccupied as he came back to the room and sat down once more.

Doris turned eagerly to Cyril. “Now, Mr Kynaston, before anyone •comes in to interrupt, have you told your friend everything? Can I fill In any gaps?” Jim roused himself with -an offort. “I think the best way would be for you to tell us anything you can from the beginning," he said. 'The two men sat silent while Doris in a low voice related the story of the incidents leading up to her escape from the house. She glossed over her step-father’s furious tirade; 'her cheeks always burned at the memory of it. Then she went on to her sudden decision for flight, “But Is there nothing you can remember,” said Jim gravely, “to give u-s a glimpse of light on the murder? Nothing that happened to connect someone, anyone, in any way?” “Oh!” a light broke over the girl’s face, “now that has just reminded me. When I was at the door the bell rang close to my ear. 'How strange I should have forgotten 1 I remember how it scared me for fear I should be stopped, and I rushed out without waiting to see who was there."

Jim and Cyril looked Inquiringly at one another. “A clue," exclaimed Cyril excitedly. "That gives us something to go on anyhow. Someone else came to the house." 'But Jim shook his head. “You see, we want outside evidence. We must go much farther than this carries us. Miss Smith says she was not in the house. She also says she heard something which tells us someone else came, but that is not evidence.” He turned to Doris with a kind smile. “You see, we believe in you, but It is our business to get the law to do so.” “But they will never believe she had a hand in it I They can’t!" burst out Cyril impetuously. “They won’t believe one way or the other until they are convinced," Jim broke in sharply. “We have got to prove someone was in the house after Miss Smith left it. The man was murdered, and by a blow. 'He must have recognised his assailant, as the blow was struck in the face, and a woman could have done it as well •as "

“Are you talking about me?” Across the room a voice rang, with a high note of hysterical fear. In the doorway stood Marcia, one hand clutching the door-post the •other out-hung towards them, as though warding off some menace. The lovely upturned face, with its clearcut features was ghastly white. The fierceness of a hunted creature, cornered in its race for life,, was in the •eyes that blazed into Jim’s. His dream lady of the photo stood there 1 A silence of consternation fell on the little group. Then with- a sudden movement Jim sprang forward, and caught the girl on his arm as she •stumbled forward and seemed about to fall. For a moment she stood with her white face uplifted, her shaking lips trying to form some words.

“Marcia!” Doris was now at her •side. “ Marcia, how you frightened me! What is Jt? Are you ill?” Slowly Marcia turned her head and looked from one face to the other, as though trying to probe their very souls. Something In the amazement of the eyes that met hers seem’ed to reassure her. She steadied herself with a tremendous effort, and sharply pushed away Jim's supporting arm. She brushed her hand over tier eyes, a weak little laugh escaped her. “I'm awfully sorry, Doris. I I'm not very well, 1 think—l—Oh, don't stand staring!” with a little return of the wildness in 'her face, •quickly checked. "I'm quite all right now. “It’s the weather; I’m tired. I walked too far. Yes, ring for tea, Doris. It’s Just what I want. Where’s mother? Please sit down, everybody.” Marcia was nearly herself again as she drew off her gloves and gave a little quivering smile. ‘Sit here, Marcia." Doris drew her friend across to Hie most comfortable chair in ttie room. “Now 1 will attend lo the tea, don’t you dare to move. Mrs Leighton has gone out.” Again her heart was lired with some inexplicable need in Marcia, and she chattered gaily on, lo relieve the tension of the situation. Jim ably seconded her efforts, bringing forward a small table lo tho side of the arm-chair, and talking hard alt the while, as he gently took Marcia’s small belongings and laid them •aside. “We ought to have met long ago,” he complained. [ used lo run in and out of Hie house when you were at school, and I was lit tic more than a child myself. I recognised you at once, though.” .Marcia’s conventional smile disappeared. "How did you recognise me?” She turned her face sharply; Cyril was at her elbow with a cup of tea. “He muddled you up with thoso

Author of “What Delia Dared,” &o„ &c [Copyright.] .

girls on the photo, Miss Leighton.” Maiola’s eyes went swiftly to them and then round to Doris. Doris laughed weakly. "it s no use, old man,” Cyril went on as Jim darted a furious glance at him. "You know you did. Lou just ask him, Miss Leighton,” and with a chuckle for whicn Jim could gladly have ohoked him, he went back to Doris. For a moment there was a dead silence, and Jim, with a/very red face, began to explain the contretemps of the photograph, and how he had »been momentarily misled by Mrs Letighton's words, lie looked pleadingly at the girl as he spoke, but he could not see her eyes, as they were bent on the clasped hands on her knee, hut he noted with a strange sinking of the heart how white and cold her face was. lie leaned suddenly forward, a wave of protecting tenderness enveloping him as lie looked at her. There was fear, for •she seemed to shrink back, fear and a strange despair. Then as suudenly as an April morn r ing, her mood changed. A smile ilashedl over her face. “Don’t let us he serious, please. Doris,” she cried, “1 suppose mother left me all sorts of messages,and 1 expect to find an hour or two’s work awaiting me in the morning room.” “Yes, there is,” said Doris absently. She was deep in a discussion with Cyril, and Marcia noticed with a faint smile -'how perfunctory was the attention paid to her remark. She ■turned again to Jim. “Mother’s hobbies are a little trying at times. She undertakes so much, that her numerous duties overflow upon us all, and sometimes they are not what one would choose.”

“Certainly not this particular one,” said Jim emphatically. “One can hardly associatej'ou with 'crime." As soon as her had spoken Jim found himself again looking into a pair of panic-stricken eyes. What could be the matter? Marcia sprang to her feet and swiftly crossed the room. At the door she paused a moment. "Please forgive my running away, but I have several Things to do," she exclaimed, and In another moment the' door closed behind her. Jim sat wondering in silence. Something was wrong; the girl of his dream was not happy. Mot • only that, but she had something on her mind, something that conjured up ghosts, something that frightened her. Poor little soul, ■fighting alone most likely and breaking her feeble lance against some stone wall that probably only existed in her own Imagination. Perhaps before long he might prove himself enough of a friend for her to confide some of her trouble to him. How gladly lie would help her, shoulder her burden, however large. He would be 'her champion against the world, if need be.

On the floor at his feet lay a glove. Jim leant down and gently picked it up. Then he slipped It into his pocket and joined the others. Outside the door Marcia paused for a moment before she could move, then with trembling limbs went down the passage to her room. She swayed as she locked the door, and leaned against the wall for support. Once more she collected all her strength to master the over-powering fear that possessed her, and presently succeeded sufficiently to walk across the room and remove her hat. Sinking into a chair, she let her head fall back on the cushions, and moistened her dry lips. Her heart cried out at this burden fate had seen fit to put upon her. Was this to go on for ever, her life one continual nightmare of terror? She felt her brain was on fire. She could not hold out day after day. Without her own volition the words might leap from her lips that would tear the veil from her secret. Dear Godl How lonely she felt with that wall of reserve always to 'be built up between herself and the world. What a fool she must have looked, bursting in on them In That dramatic way. What had she said? She had felt furious that the owner of the arm should have guessed she needed support, and yet there had been a moment’s respite while she yielded herself to his strength. Site had had to rely on herself for so long •that it had become .second nature to think and act without advice. Now there came an intense craving for someone to whom she could turn. A woman’s passion to tell someone obsessed her. The tears welled up in her eyes. Marcia seldom cried. Her overcharged brain responded to the relief. Crouching in the chair ■she smothered her face hi its ample depths, and sobbed like a frightened child until from sheer exhaustion the tears ceased to flow. She lay for a few minutes indulging in the mental oblivion which enveloped her, then starling up, hurriedly bather her face with cold water, into which she dashed eau-de-Cologne with a reckless hand. Strangely enough she forgot how closely her meeting with Doris brought her to possible disaster. It seemed another page of her life altogether. Her old nurse knew nothing, as the visit 'had been apparently voluntary. Marcia gave herself a mental shake. After all she was really quite safe. ■Why shoukl she worry so, she simply must pull herself together. With a calm face she responded to the dinner gong, and went to Join the others ■ln the dining-room. On the hall table, as she passed, lay a letter addressed to Mrs Leighton in the well-known shaky hand of her old nurse 1 (To be Continued.)