THROUGH THE SILENT NIGHT.

Waikato Times, Volume 110, Issue 18405, 12 August 1931, Page 4

THROUGH THE SILENT NIGHT.

WILLIAM GUIDOTT.)

(By

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

CHAPTER XXI. (Continued.) Doris smiled. “ It’s all right Cyril. I shall be quite all right. This gentleman has been very kind. Come and see me as early as you can—or as they will let you. I suppose you can get permission and, if you can bring Mr West Marshall—that was the name, wasn’t it?” " I wired him from Victoria. I shall call at his house to-night, now, In fact.” The girl smiled at him fondly. “How good you are,” she began. But he took her hands firmly In his and kissed her before she could finish. ’ good-night, darling, keep smiling like that, you wonderful little person." His voice was gay but as the cab whirred out of the station it looked a blur, for his eyes were filling dangerously. He swallowed hard and lit a cigarette with much energy, then hailing another cab gave 'the famous counsel’s address to the driver. It was getting late but he knew that he was expected, so the hour did not matter much. At Victoria he had tried to get Jim on the ’phone but his man answered that he was out, possibly at the club, he could not say. At the club he had drawn a blank too, however, and had frantically rung up the fiat again. ’Eliciting the information that he was expected to dine at home that night, Cyril had sent a long and expensive telegram emphatically Insisting that Jim must at all costs come down to Brjghton, even If it were only on the last train, and meet him at the Metropole. He had given rather purposely vague hints of what was going on, knowing that anything to do with Doris or her case, and possibly the expectation of seeing Marcia, too, would bring him down post haste, for Jim’s interest in anything, once aroused, was Insistent. The cab crawled up the steep hill and was now flying along the Dyke Road. The air from the downs struck chill and clear, and Cyril found himself wishing he had not left his overcoat in tile cottage porch. Mrs Leighton he remembered grimly, had first sat on it and then thrown her cloak over it and hidden it. He had no luggage and It was too late to buy anything, but Jim was sure to have enough for two so that didn’t matter. Thrusting a hand In Ills pocket to get a match his fingers clasped Mrs Leighton's little purse. He took it out. It was very nice of her to give it them. How sweet and nice she co.uld be when she liked, he thought, but on this occasion her generosity was needless, for Doris had told him In the train that she had plenty of money and he himself had enough too. He opened it however, thinking that In case anything happened to it he would know how much to return. It was an elegant little gold purse, but he marvelled at all the odds and ends It seemed able to contain. Of money there was only some loose silver, but screwed up In paper were some gold coins. Cyril spread out the paper carefully on his knee. By the light of the little lamp In the roof of the taxi he could not help seeing the notes written on it. Mrs Leighton was evidently not very confident of her powers of memory. He wondered whether Marola did not need someone rather more capable and helpful at times. The list staring him in the face was amusing and naive. “Get stamps, stockings, order meat for cat,’’ it read. “Write to Lady D, don't forget to wire Agatha say nothing anyone.”

" Say nothing?" Cyril started. Ho read the words again. “ Agatha,” that was the old nurse who had written about Marcia that night! He found himself wondering whether Mrs Leighton was not rather more capable of protecting Marcia than he had thought. The cab drew up at an Imposing looking house and ha Jumped out. In reply to his enquiry the servant asked if he were Mr Kynaston and then showed him straight Into the great man’s study. It was empty and he gazed round without much interest at the book lined walls. A moment or two after an elderly grey-haired man entered with a courteous “ goodevening." Cyril looked rather bewildered. “ Good evening. I came to see Mr West Marshall,” he said hesitating. “ I know,” the other replied, “ but he has asked me to tell you that he is detained In town and cannot possibly get down even to-morrow.” Cyril's face fell and noticing It the man went on quickly. “I don’t think you need worry. Mr Marshall says ho will certainly undertake the case if Miss Smith is committed for trial, but wo do not think this very likely for various reasons. He sent me an urgent message late this afternoon to come down if I possibly could. I am Mr Jephson. My firm were solicitors for Miss Smith's father. I don’t know whether you know anything of Miss Smith’s private affairs—” He stopped and coughed discreetly. “ I do—we are engaged.” The lawyer raised his eyebrows.

“ May I offer my congratulations. Then am I to presume you know Miss Smith's affairs?"

“ No, nothing of her family, nothing at all. She doesn't know herself, does she? I know she's got a hundred a year and that I don't make more than two hundred myself yet," he answered with a laugh, “but we don't mind being poor.” 'Mr Jephson looked at him. “Quite so, I agree. I haven't of course scon Miss Smith yet, but shall do so early to-morrow morning. I don't thlnx they've much case.”

“ What is their case so far as you know?" asked Cyril eagerly. “ So far as we can see the fact that j they were quarrelling; this was heard 1 from the road. You will be asked j about that.” | “Yes, I know. If only we could ! tlx tlio time Doris left the house, fix : it absolutely 1 mean.” I The lawyer made a note. "We will ; sec what can be done,” was all he I said. 1 Cyril was a Utile disappointed. This man certainly did not seem very en- ] l.husiastio or energetic. There was little to bo got out of him in the way of information of any description. His heart longed for enthusiastic words and assurances of hope and success. I He looked closely at the quiet man bei fore him twiddling the thin gold chain |of his pince-nez round Ills lingers, lie certainly looked sharp and capable, perhaps after all it was better so. Rising, he took his leave. “If I don’t see Miss Smith before—before Hie ease to-morrow will you give her my best wishes?" he said rallier shyly. The lawyer roused up a little. “ I hope you’ll give them to live yourself and under hapul»- • , "—u«i»ia.uccs very

soon,” he said as he shook his hand warmly. CHAPTER XXII. There was considerable excitement in Brighton. The money-lender’s daughter as the majority of people still called Doris, had been found. The news had been in all the evening papers and had spread like wild fire through the town. Jim Elverston had read it in the train, and Doris herself had seen It with horror on the placards as she drove to the police station. Much to her surprise Doris found that she had slept quite soundly when she was awakened early In her strange surroundings. The excitement and fatigue of the day before had been too much for her, and she had slept long and deeply without even dreaming of what the morning might, have in store for her. One of her earliest visitors was Mr Jephson. He had introduced himself merely as someone taking Mr West Marshall’s place temporarily. There was so much to take over that he had deemed it wiser not to mention yet that he was a member of the firm named in her stepmother's letter. He had already satisfied himself completely as to her genuineness and claim on the money set aside by her father. This had been a very simple matter. The jeweller with whom she had left the pearl necklace had, as Doris thought, communicated with the police, and the lawyer having been Informed by Mr West Marshall that his Intending client had a letter in her possession, mentioning his flrrti, he had eventually gone to the jewellers and been allowed to see the necklace. He was able to identify the monogram on the clasp. Other details and dates fitting in exactly, there was no longer any possible doubt who Dolores Mary Smith was.

For some time they remained absorbed in conversation. Doris learnt with interest that the doctor had been a little doubtful whether death had not intervened from shock to the heart before the blow was struck. “Will he appear today?" she asked eagerly.

“I doubt It. I'm afraid there is not much in the theory; that Is," he went on, “it cannot be proved.”

Doris’s face fell." "Don’t lose heart,” the lawyer -went on. “I wish you’d try and remember anyone or anything you saw when you left the house that night. Anything that will fix the exact time. Try, will you? Think. Go over It all in your mind from the moment you left the garden.” “I’ll try but—Yes, yes,” she cried excitedly. “Of course. Oh why didn't I think of it before. The police man on the front.”

The lawyer looked at her over his glasses "Well?" "My bicycle lamp was out. He said jokingly that it was after lighting up time as the 'clock was string eleven.” "Eleven, you’re sure?” Even Mr Jephson was excited now. “Absolutely?" Doris answered.

The lawyer stretched out his hand “I think you’re safe now,” he sale smiling. It had been a disappointing morning. The crowd of curious Idlers around the Town Hall felt that they had been cheated out of what should have been exciting drama free of charge. Since the early morning people had begun to assemble in the neighbourhood, and by the time the Court opened a long queue was waiting at the doors. Those who were successful in getting in waited for their drama In vain. A succession of uninteresting cases occupied the whole morning, but the piece de resistance they awaited was not put on. Rumour went round that there was a hitch somewhere, and for once rumour Was fight. Thel heroine' of the piece was not going to appear. By lunch time every member of the public who had sat tight in the crowded court was aware of the fact, and that by this time she was probably far away. Word went swiftly through the court. Dolores Smith would not be charged even, much less committed for trial! ) Many and various were the reasons given by the chattering and inaccurate audience, who streamed out when the court rose at lunch time to find the streets around the Town Hall comparatively deserted and empty as usual. She had committed suicide. She had escaped through a window. Just exactly how she had accomplished this was not certain, but those who repeated the news were quite sure of it, and did not worry about unnecessary details. She was too ill to appear, those who really knew saH. They had seen her the night before al Brighton Station, she had taken poison In the train. The police only said she was net charged and were reticent as usual.

All of this was very Interesting, and occupied their minds serious l ,*,' until the early afternoon, when the first editions of the evening papers came down. Then they learned that Miss Dolores Mary Smith had been released Immediately, a definite alibi having been established. Those in the know winked at each other. They had known it all the time. Money would do anything. She was very rich. Half Brighton had been In her step-father’s moneylending hands. They could tell some tilings If they liked. Hut they were all wrong.

Doris was not ill. She had left the Town Hall by a side door bourse ago, and was free. Free I The sword held dangling over her head by the Thread of Fate had not fallen after ail I

It had all been quite simple. When she had told her lawyer of the constable on the sea-front who had stopped her at eleven o'clock, he had left her hurriedly and Interviewed the authorities. The man had to be found quickly. References were made, inspectors and sub-inspectors Interviewed, and time sheets looked up. There mljht have been two men at tlic point at the bottom of the road leading down to the parade at. that time of night. Both of these were near at hand, and sent for. It was only a matter of waiting an hour or so. Mr Jephson went back to his client. On tils way down the public corridor ho met Jim and Cyril. They were standing quietly talking, but neither ■ could quite keen the look of strained anxiety out of their faces. They turned as he addressed them and their expressions cleared simultaneously as they noted tils. He was almost beaming, a most unusual thing for this staid elderly man. " Stic was on the sea-front at Cyril raised his eyebrows. "I know, but—"

“I think we can prove it exactly. A policeman spoke to her. The man was murdered at a quarter past. That has been established as a fact. Walt, I’ll be back soon,” and he vanished quickly along the corridor. Jim thrust his arm through Cyril's, but neither spoke for some time. He thought a minute. “Walt here for me. I must go and speak to Jackson. I told him to run the car down this morning and come here. I expect he's outside by now.” He was not gone more than ten minutes or so, and when he came back he was wearing a flower In his buttonhole. ‘‘Who gave you that rose?-” Cyril asked curiously. Jim Laughed. “Oh, a girl.” “A girl? Who?” “Never you mind.’ I wish we could smoke, but I suppose we mustn't here.” “You ought to know." Cyril laughed. “When were you last here for exceeding the speed limit?" They talked in this strain on unimportant matters for some time, but the thoughts of both were elsewhere. Cyril felt helpless, waiting there. Doris W'as probably being questioned now by police and magistrates and inspectors and people. His thoughts went round and round. They would try to catch her tripping, set traps for her, his sweet innocent girl. Jim watched him and took his arm aga.n and walked him up and down the corridor.

“I think she'll be all right, Mr Jephson Is pretty clever you know, and he seemed quite certain.”

“I wish I could hope—" Cyril broke off. The suspense was trying him more than he dare admit, even to his friend.

They waited in silence, staring out through the glass doors into the street. The crowd of Idlers hanging about meant nothing to them. To Cyril they were only part of the hideous sort of nightmare scene in a play which was being enacted round his innocent love. They didn't matter. Nothing mattered. He supposed they were still trying to find the constable who had spoken to her on the front. It might take a long time, perhaps the man was on duty a long way off. Anything might have happened to him. Jim gripped his arm. “We're wanted." He turned round with a Jerk. Mr Jephson was beckoning them from down the corridor. Hurriedly they joined him.

“It's all right,” he said smiling. “Al! over, except congratulations."

Cyril gripped his hand. "Where Is she? What happened?" "The constable recognised her Immediately. He was absolutely positive he had stopped her as eleven o’clock was striking. Her bicycle lamp was out. He said he wasn't likely to forget the young lady as he had lit her lamp for her, and remarked jokingly that lighting-up time was before eleven o'clock. “I don’t suppose they are going to prosecute for riding without a light." Jim laughed. "That would be rather an anti-climax surely?" "Come this way,” answered the lawyer, laughing, too. "We will go by a door at the back. Miss Smith is waiting there. It’s quieter that way.” Doris was standing In the doorway with her back to them, looking out Into the street. Cyril went up to her and slid his arm gently round heshoulders. She turned her head. Her lips were trembling. The strain had been awful nd she had supported it bravely and calmly, but now she knew that she was on the verge of a breakdown. She forced a little sm'le.

“Don’t be sympathetic, Cyril darling, or I shall make an idiot of myself and begin to cry," she said in a little trembling voice.

Iler lover did not speak. He only lightened his arm round her. Then he opened the door and they passed out. Jim had already gone to bring the car round. The chauffeur was sitting In front with him. ‘Can you all squeeze in? Shall wo take you anywhere?” he asked Mr Jephson. Bui the lawyer refused tactfullv. “No, thanks, I have one or two things to clear up here first.” He opened the door and helped Doris in. Doris gave an exclamation. Inside the ear was a mass of roses, white red and yellow. They tumbled over the seat and on to the floor. “(Hi, how beautiful. Jim, it is kind I” She buried her face in the fragrant blooms, and the long pent up tears fell on their petals.

-u vii men pciain. . O’a be concluded '