THE GRIP OF GOLD.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXX, Issue 3599, 12 August 1912, Page 3

THE GRIP OF GOLD.

By ROBERT HALIFAX.

(Author of “The Drums of Fate,” “The Plouse of Horror,” “A Woman in Their Web,” “Law Society,” etc., etc.) (Copyright—All Rights Reserved.) CHAPTER XLI. TOO LATE! No need to warn her. Sheba could not stir a. limb—could only watch in a sort of numbed fascination as, still humming aloud, still stooping close, Ire gradually turned his head so that he could store into the great mirror above the fireplace. It could have been thought that he was whispering eager, passionate words. His keen oy.es were straining to. pierce and dissect every detail of the shadow picture reflected, in that glass. Little puffs of hot breath went past her cheek at intervals. ‘There—there! . . . Clod, if those doors only opened outwards! The creeper lias moved again—on tlie righthand side —no, the left! There were fingers—l can almost see a. face. Is it—could .it be Be brave, now ! If you’ll only obey me a moment more, something may happen that. . . 'loo late. With a low cry, half sob and half hysterical laugh, Sheba caught at his arm, swayed up, and faced 1 the glass doors behind her chair. She must —she must —if life itself were the forfeit! She, saw nothing The film of fear blurred her eyes;’ she turned them back qui kly to realise again the deep, haflled trouble in his own. And t lien A loathing for the rambling old •mansion, that once sire had loved lor its very quaintness and isolation, had been slowly taking possession of her for days past. It materialised in this instant with the sensation of a galvanic shock. Wilfred' Spun- seemed to loom in that wild moment like a guardian angel—his strong figure, his presence here, were keeping the terror at bay. She did not know it, but she had thrown both arms about hm, as lie made to leap away. “No —no! Rout’ leave mo! f cannot bear it —I cannot stay here!” “Miss St. John!” He freed himself—held her away with more firmness than he realised just then. “You must!” he wmspered, hotly. “Be your own true self! Quick, it has gone—let me go ! For the peace of this house, lot me know, now or never. Mrs Saxon —Airs Saxon !”

He sprang to the door, flung it wide ripping the portiere curtain, and then had hounded back for the double glass doors. They crashed open. He was out-—a dangerous, ...on at that moment, as lie dashed aside the swaying tendrils and stood ready to leap and throttle. anything that movedNothing—no one. Sick at heart, every muscle aching for action, he strode both ways along the balcony. Nothing! He vaulted the rail, ran a few yards, and stared in all directions. But no human eyes could have hoped to pierce the vague masses of shadow thrown by the house andi trees. And then, with a little breath-hiss, he recollected that other rooms opened on that balcony. Ahead lay the great lawn, a clear stretch of silver under the- harvest moonlight. To the right were -tne grounds and the far plantation belt; to the left the gravel sweep and drive. Nothing offered the barest clue. Uirec seconds of time had obliterated it. The simplest, the wisest, thing to go back and declare himself mistaken, » lie was more positive than he. would ever like Sheba St. John to know. The faintest breeze might have set creep-er-filaments stirring fantastically ana swung the door inwards; but he was prepared to affirm solemnly that he had picked out the nebulous lines of a human face. Whose? The face that had stared, ghostlike, at him through a privet-hedge in the maze? Perhaps ten minutes had ticked by when lie quietly re-entered and fastened back the glass doors. Whore was Sheba? 'Ho looked carefully out, bis mind palpitating with uneasiness on another score now. At the bead of the staircase there, lamp in hand, Airs Saxon, stood waiting—waiting bravely as for anything that might happen. Ho went calmly up to her level. “Nothing Don’t be alarmed.” “Nothing? A'ou expect us to. believe that, sir ? Nothing? You-would never have called in that voice- And Aliss Shelia ”

“Hush! Gone to her room, has she? I’m glad. Stay with her, Airs Saxon ; don’t leave her yet. Tell her —tell her I have investigated thoroughly, and am satisfied it was purely my own illusion !”

“Tell her a lie, for our own sake. Very well, sir!” She had seen him force a smile, and she had seen .something else —little clusters of sweat-beads on his dark forehead.

He wiped them away. His voice sank in .confidence. “You—cr—did not see anyone come in just now-—within the last few minutes?” he asked. “I don’t mean by the hall door.”

“Air. Spurr, don’t! No one is out, that lam aware. It has gone 10 o’clock. You forget!” “Think again ! Could anyone have come in by another doer, just after I shouted your name?” And the lamp shook in her grasp.

“Not to my -knowledge! I caught hold of Aries Sheba, and led her straight upstairs. No.; the servants keep to the other side after supper, and come to me for passes after 10 o’clock. I tried all those doors and windows myself after dusk —always do ! There is only the door. at tno rear staircase, and that has been locked for years and years. You surely cannot mean ’’

“No, no! Don’t listen to me at all!” He squared his shoulders—laughed quietly at the pale mis pi ion in her face. For once Afs S rax on felt unablo to read a man “at a glance.” “It must bo your relaxing relcoto air; my nerves have gono limp here I must see Dr. Lancing on my own account!” Yarn—TWO ? ? ? ? ? —?— “Vou’U never do that, sir. That I do happen to know.” “Ah. Well, never mind that. Oblige me, Airs Saxon, by going to lied. You arc tired; out, with one strain and another. If you break down everything will go wrong! Ale? Oh, I'm preferring the couch again to-night—-if you’ll let me! It’s nothing; away home, as I told you,l have often slept on the bare ground for choice 1” “Air. Spurr, stuff and nonsense — pardon me !” Her voice broke warmly. “I’m sure your room is as comfortable as can be!” “Too comfortable—that’s just tlie secret !” Laughingly ho seized her hand and wrung it as he bent to -whisper. “I might not wake, if I wished to. You don’t understand ? There’s no necessity 7. Seriously, I want to think, for all of us. I must If nothing transpires within the next fortyeight hours you will ho finding accommodation for ia gentleman from Sootland Yard-! There, good night—God bless us all! Say it to Aliss St. John for me—tell her a golden sun always shines behind the cloud that looks blackest!”

Whistling to himself almost cheerfully 7, lie went on to his own room. He was in there but a moment. Still whistling, back down into the draw-ing-room lie went— the room that looked so deserted and different now. All's Saxon was not to know how abruptly his throat-music ceased, as he closed the door and tool: cut something small and polished from his breast pocket. It was the revolver. Ho had bought it- in Toronto. It had lain under his pillow at night every day since. Its six chambers were still loaded, and might remain so indefinitely. But ho had waited seven days in the fixed, vague belief that a moment would come—and the moment must not find him wanting! (To ho continued daily.)