THE GRIP OF GOLD.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXX, Issue 3582, 23 July 1912, Page 3

THE GRIP OF GOLD.

By ROBERT HALIFAX.

(Author of “The Drums of Fate,” “The House of Horror,” “A Woman in Their Web,” “Law Society,” ect., etc.) (Copyright—All Rights Reserved.) CHAPTER XXIV. ARE YOU DREAMING THIS? “Pardon me! I knew I had seen that material before. Yes, in one piece, on the pretty wearer’s back! The summer robe that my patterns wore at church only a .few weeks back ! I sat behind her; I admired it; but it would never have occurreu to me to ask for a sample to carry, about. Do excuse me! —Mis* St. John’s dress —very quaint idea —very 1 > “A lie !’’ Spurr’s olive tan had deepened for a second; then half the blocd seemed to drain from his face. He strode closer. “I say it again—a lie!” “What?” whispered the other. “What?” His lingers had closed upon the lapel cf Spurr’s coat; in his blue eyes something hadi flickered. He stood very still, fas Spurr struck his arm away. The latter had become as suddenly cool again. “I have said it to ycur face,” he said. “If, some day, 1 can’t prove it, I’ll apologise. For the present —goed-day!” He walked coolly on towards the house, as if unaware oi a man staring after him, of gloved hands clenched until the stitching cracked; of a face ghastly with passion that dared not vent itself openly. “You shall pay the price of that,” the doctor was whispering to space. “Heavens, you shall! —and before long!’ “You sir! Oh, thank goodness! I began to fear —I hardly know what — that you must be lost, at least!” It was Mrs Saxon’s hushed, welcoming voice. She sat down to let a tremble pass, as Wilfred Spurr stepped through the open doorway of the hull and stood looking about himNearly five hours! —and he reappeared as quietly as if they had been minutes.

••Lost? You have hit upon the very word!” Ice owned. “I was lost in that maze cf yours. I forgot there were no trees to ‘blaze’ as one goes; I walked straight in, and have hut just emerged.” iShc stared at him—at his clothes — lie' lips parted in vague awe.

“Never! Believe me, sir, I stood at that window twice, and thought to myself, ‘Could he 'nave ventured in there alone?’ You may laugh, but it’s a mercy you arc bore now. And yet—isn’t it singular? —nearly all the gentlemen who have happened to call here —not many, to be sure —have gone straight to it the moment they heard. A mile across? —a mile? Bless you, sir, not a half —nothing like it!"

He half smiled his scepticism. She wondered what it was that he held behind him, and why that arm kept twitching. She wondered many things. “There,” she breathed, “you looked just a little like poor Mr Loder, as you stood at that moment! Fifteen years ago! As if it wore yesterday, I recollect opening the library door one day, never thinking, and he was there, with the grand oak dining-table dotted all over with lines and crosses. The way he sprang —the way his eyes flamed! It palsied me for the moment. As if I should take in all his spider-web calculations! Yes, ine plan of his maze. He had men brought from a distance. M e u-ea -«*.• watch them-at work; wo were not quite certain whether he might be laying a mine, or something of that sort. They transplanted shrubs about three feet high; as they moved, I recollect, they seemed to be walking round and round each other without ever getting nearer. Then gradually the place got dark and deceptive. . Once a year he had the same men to come and clip the hedges. But the gardener will tell you more than I can, if you aro interested.”

He was deeply engrossed. She saw it, and went on.

‘Once, and oire only, I can recollect Mr Crewe, that .stiff, silent solicitor gentleman, coming down here. fie was swallowed up in the maze for hours, while Mr Loder sat there shaking with chuckles —to give them a name. He challenged its extent, as you do now. He demanded .the plan ; but Mr Loder had shown that to a living soul—that, bit of secrecy was life and breath to him.’ She bent nearer, sinking her voice. “M’liat do you think Mr Crewe did Fastened some silk twine to an arrow affair, shot the arrow across from side to side in some clever way, drew his silk tight, and then measured it. Ho had lost liis last train back to town, bufc he gained Ids point—and that’s what most gentlemen do. I know. Mr Spurr, lie was dumbfounded to know that he had been rambling and groping all those hours in a mere toyspeck of ia place. I know full well he would have given something to step across again and set fire to the whole mystery out of spite. Ho lias never been here since, at any rate. I. had never set foot in the thing; because I had no wish to disobey Mr Loder; and when that once lie insisted- upon my following him to see the pavilion

he had built-in the middle I ” “Pavilion?” Spurr whispered, curiously. ‘ ‘Where ? Are you dreaming this “To he sure! The little glass-roofed house on the ground. You might call it a sort of baby bungalow or summer house. He labelled it his pavilion. Yes, with stained glass windows apd a tiled flooring, actually! I haven’t forgotten it yet. It was very hot, and lie. spoke not a word. .1 felt sinking away, as I following him in and out to the mound, and he pointed —well, I suppose I must have been worked up! It looked to me like a sort of goblin affair—not real at any other moment. I think I gave one stilled scream- The hedges came close all round his pavilion ; there was hardly room to turn, and not ia breath of air to breathe; and the fiies hung over it in a perfect cloud. There, it was no place for any woman, much loss a woman with nerves. But, poor Mr l.odor!” She turned away eyes that had gone dim and misty. “He loved it. Come to that, lie couldn’t have been more secure against noise or prying eyes on the top of a mountain ; so that was everything, I suppose. Not that it matters now to anyone else; the fascination of the place died with him. No, sir, I doubt whether you would ever find l the pavilion without his key of the paths—unless you were trying not to find it. Once, and once only. . . . Mr Spurr ! —What — wliat is that?”

She went back a slow step. !n» new master had not been listening. Abruptly, determinedly, almost as if it cost him an effort, lie suddenly help out a jagged strip- of cloth. “How—how came that to be lying on tbo lawn? It seemed new, to- I “.New!” 'Her voice thickened with awe. “On the lawn—that! Impossible! It’s a strip of the top flounce of Miss Sheba’s delaine gown, that Mr Loder paid such a price ior two months ago. iS’ilk wisteria blossom worked by hand upon delaine!” “It- is not!” rattled in the man’s throat. He tossed the- remnant down and turned unsteadily. He put out a hand to clutch the oak chair at his side; once again the blocd had seemed to drain from his face; his eyes stared as at something no one else could see. Then he had turned again- “It never was. I refuse to hear it. Show me -—show me the dress from which it came !”

In the silence she stared at him, eyes wide and lips apart, all else forgotten. There was something that she, too, struggled, to grasp from a woman's point of view. She whispered. ••] can. There never was another piece of material in this house —in all Felcote —like it. It tame straight from Paris to a dressmaker at Barrowdene. I recollect seeing Miss Sheba step into the carriage the first time—” 'No, never —never!” he muttered. Ho bit bis lip as upon an impulse to say something best left unsaid. “Can you show mo the dress? That is all J want. Now!” Mrs Saxon turned and went up the staircase. lie paced to and fro, arms drawn up stiffly at his side. It seemed an unendurable interval before Lor sharp whisper came down from the first landing. He stumbled up. Mrs Saxon was trembling. She slowly unfolded a length of the wisteriasprayed cloth. All her woman's instincts were on edge. ••Look! That identical piece is missing—torn dean out. The dress is ruined; it is soiled from throat to hem. Only a day or two back certainly not three—it was hanging in tissue wrappings in the wardrobe in Miss Sheba’s dressing-room, c. j pure and beautiful as new snow. Howhow is it to be accounted for ?” “God knows!” He wiped his forehead. He spoke very quietly again now. “Say not a word to anyone. Put it back !”

“Back—in this condition?” ••Yes! The dress is nothing. Miss Sheba's honor is everything. I beg your pardon for answering you as 1 did. Let this rest between ourselves until light comes through the darkness. It will!” He went mechanically down to the dining-room, and stood there—ssouu like a man struggling to throw off invisible fetters. She bad replaced the robe in its recess, locked the wardrobe door with a shiver of prescience not to be explained; then she suddenly came back to realisation, and hurried back to the ball. “Forgive us all, sir. I don't kump what you must be thinking! iAmoh has been laid for you since ten o’clock. | when I saw what had happened at l breakfast. I insist, Mr. Spurr! I’m i just going to ring this bell. I Hark ! Someone for you, sir? ’ (To be continued daily.)