ON THE BRINK OF A CHASM.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXIX, Issue 3286, 3 August 1911, Page 3

ON THE BRINK OF A CHASM.

A RECORD OF PLOT AND PASSION.

(By L. T. Meade, author of “A Son

of Lahmael,” etc.)

CHAPTER XIV.

FATE OF THE TRUNK

The nurse turned and left the room. Barbara followed her on to the landing,

“I shall go in a couple of hours,” said the nurse, “I am only waiting to see Dr. Tarbot and to pack one or two of my things. Ah, I think I hear the octor’s step on the stairs.” The woman stood in the shadow, and the doctor, without seeing her, entered the sick room. He stayed there for a few moments and then came out again, Barbara accompanying him. “Is that you, murse?” he said.

“Yes, sir. I have waited to speak to you. I should like to say a word before I go.” “All right, I can attend to you now. Good-night, Miss Evershed. I hope you will go to bed and have a good sleep. Nurse Hester can look after the patient. There is nothing to be alarmed about in her condition—she is suffering from shock and fever. These symptoms will soon pass off.” Barbara jre-entered the room, and Nurse Ives and Dr. Tarbot walked down the passage together. “So you have quite made up your mind to go?” he said to her. “Yes, I leave to-night. I thought I ought to tell you that I had the cofßn screwed up.” “Indeed! Is that not rather soon?” “Unmistakable signs of mortification have already set in.” “Then in that case you did right.” “I thought you ought to know,” said the nurse, dropping her eyes. “Certainly. You acted with discretion. It would never do, were such the case, for Miss Evershed to be bending over the child’s body. Girls have so much false sentiment in a thing of that the reach of any sympathy- which earth can give him. “That is what I thought, doctor. Well, I shall leave to-night.” ‘.‘Shall I order a cab for you?” “No, thank you; I will go out later on and see to that myself.”

“Very well, nurse. Good-bye. I shall find you at your old quarters, eh?”

‘‘Yes.” “You will not undertake a new case at present?”

“I shall never undertake a new case; you understand our compact?” “I am not likely to forget. I will call to see you to-morrow evening.”

The doctor ran downstairs and let himself out of the house. Nurse Ives went softly back to the room where the child who was supposed to be dead lay. Having entered, she locked the door. She remained in the room for a few minutes and then went downstairs. The footman was in the hall. “Are you going out nurse?” he asked. “Yes; but I shall be back.” “We shall all be glad to retire early to-night,” said the man. “I, for one, am dead tired.” “Of course you are, and you need not sit up. lam leaving to-night, but not yet.” Then, of course, one of us must stay up to see out?” “That is not necessary. If you leave the door on the latch I shall let myself out, and I have a latch-key with me. I have a little business to transact now, but will be back again. [ shall desire a cab to call for me, when lam ready. Go to bed, Thomas. [ can manage for myself.” The man nodded, and the nurse left the house. She hailed a cab and drove straight to her own rooms in Goodge street. She made certain preparations there and then left the house. The same cabby brought her back to Ashley Mansions. “I shall want you to wait,” she said to the man. “I shall be leaving very eoon.” She had been absent nearly an hour, and it was now close on twelve o’clock. When Nurse-Ives came in again the house was already wrapped in slumber. Barbara, worn out, had retired to her own room. The servants, only too glad of the early hours after the late excitement, had retired to theirs. Nurse Hester sat with the sick woman. Mrs Pelham was very restless. Sleep would not visit her. She insister on holding Nurse Hester’s hand, and the nurse could not leave her for a moment. Nurse Ives knew exactly what was likely to take place and had made her plans accordingly. At night she lifted the boy from the bed, and, opening the trunk, laid him in it. He was a little fellow and very slender; the trunk was long and the hoy fitted in comfortably. Having done this, Nurse Ives stole downstairs ;on tiptoe and motioned the cabby to leave his horse and enter the house.

-•“I. want you to move a trunk down,” she said. .'“Will your horse remain quiet while you are away?” “Oh, yes; there’s no 1 fear of him,” answered,the man. “You haven’t much luggage, have you?” “No, only the one trunk, and it is

specially haevy. Go upstairs as quietly as you can.”

The man did so. He lifted the trunk on his shoulder.

“It’s a queer shape,” she answered. “It’s a very convenient shape,” she answered. “Skirts of dresses'do not get creased in a trunk like that. I had it made on purpqse.” The man hoisted it on his shoulder and went quietly downstairs. He put the trunk on the cab, and Nurse Ives shut the door of 12, Ashley Mansions, behind her. At about halfpast twelve she reached her own place. The cabby carried the trunk upstairs for her and. laid it inside the room. The lamp was lit here, and the gas stove was burning brightly. On the table in the' centre of the room was something covered with a white cloth. Nurse Ives paid the cabman, who withdrew.

The moment he did so he lifted the covering from the instrument on the table and proceeded to open the trunk.

, (.To be Continued.)