LOVE'S DARK JOURNEY

Waikato Times, Volume 126, Issue 21038, 14 February 1940, Page 5

LOVE'S DARK JOURNEY

CHAPTER XXI. (continued)

“Crashed!” Mrs Frensham’s face went deathly pale, and she stared at the man, her eyes very bright. Rose muttered under her breath, and waited. “Yes—but none of them are—are fatally injured.” said Jim with a big effort. “Mark is more badly hurt than any of them. Mrs Willet is also in hospital, but Rene Willett eswith scratches and briuses. It—it’s the devil! We must tell Judy—” He spoke as though he wished that could be avoided, but Rose spoke quickly. “If we don’t, someone else will. I’ll be telling her, Anne. What else did ye find, Mr Martin?” “ Sir John ai.d Lady Renway have hurried to the Hospital,” said James Martin, pushing his hand wearily through his hair. “It’s dreadful news ” Anne Frensham stood up quickly. “ I—l can hardly believe it,” she said. “What Judy will feel I daren’t think! Jim —it’s a big thing to ask, but will you go to the hospital and find out how he is? It’s not satisfactory to telephone. You might see Sir John, and he would tell you the real truth.” Jim’s face seemed grey as he stood up. “Of course,” he said. “ I’ll go at once. And tell Judy not to worry—he’ll be all right.” He spoke without confidence, however, for he had not told them altogether what he had heard. At the village inn the story of the smash had been regaled with typical morbid excitement, and the rumour was that Mark Renway was so badly hurt that he could not recover. In some ways James Martin felt that the news, for him, was good. But the thought hardly entered his mind. He hated the thought that a fellow human being had been badly hurt, but more than ever he dreaded the effect of this on Judy. That she loved Mark Renway was increasingly obvious. But had he married, after a few months the wound would have healed. If he died, the memory of the tragedy would always be in her heart—just as, for nearly twenty years, he had nursed the image of a woman he had loved. But he forced these thoughts back as he hurried towards Winchester driving the car very carefully. He saw the little crowd gathered about the spot where Mark's car had crashed, and he shuddered when he saw the terrible drop. It was a miracle that they had not all three been killed instantaneously. He found his way to the hospital with little trouble, and on stating his business, was taken to a small private waiting-room. Normal patients might not have been seen so easily, but inquiries of Mark Renway. Sir John's nephew, had immediate attention.

by MARGARET COOKE

(To be continued)

Close relatives, of course, could see any accident victim at any time, but a casual friend—as Martin appeared to be—would have found it more difficult. He had been waiting for perhaps three minutes when the door opened, and Jim sprang up as he saw the bearded figure of Sir John Renway. The two men had met several times, and Jim was aghast at the deathly pallor on the baronet’s cheeks. Knowing nothing of the quarrel that had preceded the accident, he could not know why Sir John felt that his was the responsibility of this dreadful accident. For a moment the baronet did not recognise the other. Then he started, and stared at Jim. “Why, Martin—” “How is he?” asked Jim Martin quietly, and he hung on the other’s words, hardly daring to hear the verdict. For certainly it seemed from the baronet’s manner that Mark Renway’s chances of life were very slim. CHAPTER XXII. Sir John Renway had heard of the crash an hour after he had watched the car driving from the Manor. He had been so shocked at first he had not been able to speak. Then the realisation that he would have to tell his wife gave him strength. Not a moment had been lost in getting to the hospital. Lady Mary had taken the news well, although her anxiety was obvious. She was still with the injured man, and Sir John had left the bedside to allow Rene Willett to go in. “He’s—he’s in a bad way.” The old man’s voice was gruff, and Martin’s heart went out to him. “My fault, too. My fault!” “My dear Sir John—” “Oh, I know it sounds absurd,” said the baronet wearily. “But I quarrelled with him—sent him packing. And now this. However—” he found a wan but courageous smile. “ It’s good of you to come, Martin.”