Out of the West

Waikato Times, Volume 112, Issue 18795, 17 November 1932, Page 4

Out of the West

A Charming Irish Love Romance.

SYNOPSIS. mother are, through comparative poverty, obliged to let furnished their old family seat, Inlsroe llafl, In the West of Ireland The letting Is In the hands or an agent, Joseph MacDonagh, who finds tenants for the summer—a Mr and Mrs Silas Brandon, rich Americans, with one son, who Is at a University In England. Sheelagh and her mother (with a fnvourlte dog and pony) take up residence a few miles away In the house of a former tennat farmer named Coolin. There Sheelagh learns of the love between Nora Coolin and Rory, the gardener at Inlsroe Hall. Riding past the ruins of Inlsroe Abbey, Sheelagh sees two men frantically digging. According to legend, In the grounds of the Abbey large quantities of gold and silver were once burled, but In spite of local faith In the legend, all attempts to locate tho treasure have been futile. One or the men is Larry Shaughnessy, Inis - roe's most famous wastrel. The other Is a stranger. Shortly arterwards Sheelgah meets Larry, but he denies ever digging In the grounds. Sheelagh visits the ruins, hut allhough she saw the two men digging there not long ago, the ground is apparently untouched. Silas Brandon’s forebears were Irish, and it is the desire to visit the home of his ancestors, wealthy where they were poor, that Impels him to make the Journey. His only son, Terence, Is at Oxford, and Is now expected home for the Long Vacation. Looking out to sea from Ills bedroom window one night Terry sees a boat being rowed along the shore. Next morning bathing ho sees this boat in a narrow Inlet near the Abbey ruins. Going towards the ruins he meets two men (one Larry Shaughnessy) who engage him in talk, and It Is only arterwards the Idea comes to him that he had been purposely kept from entering the Abbey grounds. Sheelagh takes a ride on her pony past the gates of her ancestral home, and Is seen by Terry. -CHAPTER X.— (Continued.) Where the road crossed the open moorland he stopped the car and stood up. There was the Abbey the other side of the water; obviously the girl was not there. He. turned his gaze towards the hills and looked long and earnestly; nobody appeared to he climbing the mountain path, certainly nobody on horseback. Finally he scrutinised the various ways hack towards the town. There was nobody in sight who bore the faincst resemblance to a girl riding a pony and followed by a terrier. The car was headed back and the perambulation started afresh. As he neared Inlsroe he noticed that the high road branched off to the left down a deep lane, cutting by the foot of a hill which seemed to he an outcrop from the adjacent mountain range. He decided to take this lane and trust to luck. The way was narrow, with scarcely room for two vehicles to pass in safety, and in addition it twisted alarmingly. In places the lane seemed about to be crushed by the wood on the hill above, the trees hanging over so closely that it was almost dark. “Cheerful spot!” commented Terry as he drove carefully through the gloom. Emerging once more into the .daylight as the lane rose up to higher ground, lie thought a huge cedar tree looked familiar on his right hand side and stopped the car to investigate. He was astonished to find that he was passing the back of the estate of Inisroc Jlall, and the tree stood just inside the high slope wall. Back in the little town’s main street there was still no sign of the fugitive girl, and —as a kind of forlorn hope—lie set out once more for the ancient ruins. Terry was mildly surprised to see the parapet of the bridge uninhabited except for one man; the usual “residents” were missing. “Found some work, perhaps," he smiled to himself as the Bugatti shot across and on to the wide road that opened out towards the moorland. He did not stop as lie reached the Abbey. There was no need. It was obvious she was not there. Terry Brandon’s disappointment became more acute as each direction furnished no sight of the girl and her mount. Incidentally as the time wore on since their meeting so her beauty grew in retrospect. He had caught merely a glimpse of Sheelagh, but it bad been enough to set his pulses racing. Her dark loveliness and vivacity had bred a spark in his heart that continued to grow with the memory of her, and—whoever and whatever she was—he determined to find her. He wrenched the wheel of tho car round almost savagely, and was soon returning over his tracks. Coming down the side of tiie hill in his direction wore three men with linked arms. As he drew closer lie saw that the man in the middle was being securely held by the other two. They apparently saw him at the same time, and appeared to hesitate, but the next moment they resumed their erratic progress. When Terry saw that he had already met two of the party that early morning when he first arrived at Inisroe, he felt Impelled to ask them if they had seen the mysterious girl, hut changed his mind as they came on to the road. He stopped the car and waited. Blood had streaked the swarthy face of the man in the middle, and lie walked unsteadily. “Can 1 help you?” asked Terry. “I can soon run you inlo the town to a doctor." "He’s fallen down and cut ills face,” said Larry Shaughnessy. “Liar!” exclaimed tho injured man. “It’s that—that. ” He pointed helplessly to the livid weal on his face. “Don’t take any notice of him, sir,” interrupted the other man as he pulled him along. "it's the potheen lalking. sir,” explained Larry. "lie did be fighting, and I had to liil him to make him quiet, that's all. lie’s all right now. Don't lake any notice, sir. lie'll be good when Tie's sober.” 'ferry half-smiled as they passed on. lie felt instinctively Dial he bail nol been told Hie Irulh, bill, dismissed the mailer as no eoneeni of Ids. lie slipped the c 1 lit cl i in again and eonlimied his journey. Before leaving Die main road, however, lie looked bark and saw llie three men going towards the creek. "Funny business,’’ he murmured as he once more entered Ihe sunken lain’ along wlifell he had so reeenlly been. Ills interest was aroused almost, immediately. mi Ihe left side of the road, firmly impressed in the soft earlli, were hoof marks, .smaller than usual, and obviously Ihose of a pony. "Now, why on earlli didn’t I see llmse before?” lie said aloud as lie sprang out of the ear. ! Tim marks eonliimed mil;. I'm - a few wtrds, then were lost uu the turd

BY Herbert Galway. (Author of “The Squire of Hedesby,” “Fetters of Silk,” etc.)

ground. They apparently ran straight on. Terry climbed a short ditsance ui the bank, but no further trace could be seen. “Vanishing into thin air, I expect,” lie grumbled. “No wonder they believe in fairies round lie re. I'm sure I must have met one. No human girl could disappear so completely.” His attention was attracted by a broken stone bottle that lay on the grass not far from the edge of the moor. Terry laughed as he picked it up. “This explains the trouble, I expect. Why these chaps should always want to fight when they’ve had a few drinks amazes me.” lie climbed down the steep slope and put the broken bottle in the car. It was doing no good on the grass; might, in fact, cut somebody, and would be better put out of harm’s way. He had now definitely given up hope of finding Hie girl, and ambled along the lane with the intention of going home and searching another day. If Terry Brandon had only taken the main road back to Inlsroe Instead of the sunken lane, he might possibly have seen Sheelagh and the pony and the terrier clmbing slowly towards the summit of the hill on the way home. By the time he had reached the town, however, the disconsolate little party had gone over the crest of the ridge and out of sight. The big policeman, standing in the market place, was but mildly interested when Terry gave him the broken stone bottle. “Pity it’s empty, sir,” he grinned. “I’ll throw it away for you. This has been full of potheen—the real stuff that.-ye can’t buy In the .shops. Where did you say you found it?” “On the hill up the lane.” "Somebody been having a bust, 1 expect, else it wouldn’t be there. I’ve heard of secret stills where they make the stuff, but nobody tells where they are," He placed the bottle carefully in the gutter as he spoke, and Terry, with a wave of the hand, continued his journey. Tiie gates of Inlsroe Hall were closed when lie reached them, and he had to get out of tiie car to push them open. As he did so he thrilled to think that not long before the elusive beauty had also touched the same unresponsive iron. That plain prosaic fact seemed to draw her nearer, and as ho drove up the gravelled approach lie registered a mental vow to seek until lie had found her. “Oh, here you are, then!” Terry turned his head as lie stopped tho engine, and stepped out of tiie car on to tiie stone floor of the garage. “Hello, mother I” lie laughed. "I’ve just been for a run, but if you want me to lake you I’ll be very glad." “You won’t persuade me to go in that dangerous machine—particularly with you—if you always drive as i saw you dash out some time ago. What was Hie matter?* You reminded me of a fire-engine." “Did I? That’s Huggins' usual speed. He conks dreadfully if lie goes slowly—ln fact, on an open road lie refuses to travel at less than 40 to 45 miles per hour. Even then he’s not happy until he turns the 50 mark." “Don’t be ridiculous, Terence," rebuked Ills mother. “Bugglns, indeed! Some of you boys must Imagine your cars are alive! Fifty miles an hour! A disgraceful speed!’’ “That’s what I think sometimes. There’s a ohap up for his last term who can knock 60 out of his old bus without turning a Hair, and when lie overtakes me pottering along at a paltry fifty I’m absolutely . ashamed of " Mrs Brandon, however, had left the garage.- She tossed her head in disgust.as Terry was speaking, hut once out, of his sight she smiled tolerantly and walked across to the garden. Terry’s father was interested in his soil’s meeting with tiie three men. “Such a. sigtit is not uncommon here, 1 guess,” lie said, “but if they were anything like the loungers 'who are always leaning on tiie town bridge I can’t see hOw they can afford, to buy Hie dope.” “Evidently the policeman I spoke to has no doubt about where they got the whisky. Hc i says there’s an illicit .still somewhere in the neighbourhood. The broken stone bottle, lie said, was proof of it even if their poverty wasn’t.” “From your description,” resumed Mr Brandon, .lighting a cigar, “I Imagine one of the men must he wellknown locally—Larry Shaughnessy, one of the town’s workshys. He’s generally the prime mover in any kind ■of mysterious mystery, so Rory tells me." “I had certainly seen two of them before. But who was the wounded man? I suppose the gardener didn't mention a very dark foreign-looking stranger?" “No, except to say that he might have come on one bf the ships from Spain, or somewhere there. You see, this Shaughnessy has knocked about the world a bit, and the man may be an old friend of his.” Terry laughed. “That’s perhaps why lie punched him on the jaw, 1 suppose. He couldn't have stopped at that either, because the mark l saw on the man’s face was certainly not made with a list.” “Rory didn’t go into details, but he gave me the impression that the whole hunch deserve whatever comes to them.” “He seems well up in local history," said Terry somewhat thoughtfully. “I suppose he said nothing about Hie people who really live here?” “Well, I couldn't very well discuss the family with him, and 1 must give him credit, for nol lalking about them, but lie mentioned Hie name of Mrs Beaufort, and 1 gathered she was a widow- that's all.” "lie. didn't mention any other—or ■ —family seats —round here, I expert ?” asked Terry. “nil. yes. lie didn't mind talking aboil! I hem. There was the Herald family at Rossvarra, and ” "How far Is Rossvarra?” Silas Brandon glanced at his son. “Five or ten miles, I’m nol sure. Do you know 11 1 em ? ” "nil. no." Terry laughed awkward- ! ly. "I jusl wondered. Hint's all.” | "Then I Here's tin* Filzpatrieks a lew miles the oilier side ol' lltc Abbey.” "Nobody of our name, I suppose—• no Brandons?" "Tiie Brandons weren't landed proprietors,” smiled his I'allier reininisI eeuliy. "il was their lid lo leaxe the | land, nol lo own it.” ' “These (Jeralds and Kii'/.p.ilriek.s," iHuiilinueu m next column.)

persisted Terry as casually as possible. "Have they any famllj—l mean any sons or daughters?" "1 don't know, hut I guess not. From what 1 gather they are old people who spend most of their time abroad, or in England." Terry hoped his face did not show ills disappointment. Obviously he could not ask his lather the question that was on his lips. It would he still worse if he could give him no satisfactory answer. There was going to toe an unusual zest about his holiday, however. lie would searon until he found tiie beautiful stranger. In the meantime he would contrive to have a chat himself with Rory O'Connor, the gardener. iTo be Continued.i