The Amman Valley Chronicle and East Carmarthen News

I [iu RIGHTS Brauvzs.] THE LADY IN THE BLACK MASK BY TOM GALLON, Author of "Tatterley," "Meg the Lady," "The Great Gay Road," &c. I CHAPTER IX. I I JUST IN TIME. Loader stood quite still until Ruth had passed out of sight. She walked slowly in the gathering- dusk, and was presently lost to sight among the trees. And still the man stood there, debating what he should do. The thing had come as such an utter surprise to him; he could make nothing of it. If he had thought at all about the missing woman, it had only been with something of a sense of relief that, for the time at least, she was out of the way; it might have been awkward if she had in- sifeted on that story about the finding of him in the library of the Verinder house on the night following that of the murder, And yet here, in this quiet country place, she was walking cajmly in the grounds, 'quite as though she belonged to the house, And lie thought for a moment, in that first fleeting wiimpss of her, that she was Damia. Something more than mere human curio- sity prompted him to probe the matter dc'i>p?v. He wanted to know why she was,: til ore, and who in this amazing business was helping and protecting her. He deter- mi.x-u that he would go on to the house, q:1 .is though nothing had happened. IK- !?'■> the path, and struck into the drive acala; and so strolled" up to the house, and ia.i > the bell in the ordinary way. YL' '& k e d to aee L' i L" c.feked to see L:\dy Woodmason, and vrzsi v.iforrnxl that she was out. Miss £ lur~-h was lie was told; he said that lie wovJ/j like t- fjee her. He was shown into f. room, dud stood there for a. moment or two :n:;Uieitly watching the door until Daiuia arrived. She came in quickly, but whe*i tiii door was closed looked at him a little ftarhvly. as she held out her hand to him. Cahhing at her hand, he drew her sudr>y and almost fiercely towards him; caught her in his arms, and kissed her. She struggled a little for a moment, and then lay passive against his breast. \Vliv, what's the matter with you?" he asked brusquely, as he held her close and looked down into her eyes. "What are you afraid of?" "Nothing," she faltered. "Only if some-, one should come in." Let them come," he declared. I don't see why all this secrecy is necessary." It isn't exactly that," she said. But all this terrible business—my guardian's murder, I mean—has upset me so that it seems to have clianged all my views of life. Things are not now the same at all. One has to reconsider all sorts of matters." She was out of his arms by this time, and was holding him at a distance with her out- stretched hands. She had her head turned a little to cue side she avoided his eyes. The man suddenly caught at the hands that were lightly touching his breast, and held them strongly. Look here—you're not playing tricks with me, are you? he asked slowly. "Of course not, Morris; what coull make you think such a thing," she replied.; There isn't anyone else: She hesitated for just the fraction of a second before she replied, and the man's face hardened. Don't be silly of course there K-n t anyone else. I'm just as much in love with you, dear boy, as I have ever been. I'm most delighted to see you. What has brought you down here? Loader ignored the question. "There's a change in you, in your manner. I mean," he said sternly. "You're not delighted to see me. You're deceiving me; you're holding me at bay. Come, out with it; what's the matter?" | Even then, perhaps, she might have told the truth, and so have changed the whole course of events. But she chanced to look at him, and his eyes were hard and stern, and his lips, under that black line of moustache were set in a straight line. I'm Eat dpe?eiving you, Morris dear," she faltered. "I do love you very dearly, and there is no one else in all the world to take your place." She pressed a little nearer to him, and once again he took her in his arms, and stood there looking down at her upturned face with a smile that was half tender and half scornful. "I don't know myself why it is that you attract me as you do," he said. "From the first moment you've always been able to do just as you liked with me. That makes me say absurd and suspicious things. Only I know that if ever you played me false I should kill you; I couldn't help myself. I'd crush you, just as I should crush any ani- mal that had hurt me. I don't want to frighten you, but I've done so much for you —things you'll never know and: never under- -stand. Now—let us sit down and talk 'quietly. I've lots of things to say to you." Now it was curious that each of them carefully walked round that topic which hould have interested them both, and which was, in fact, in their minds all ,io time: the topic of Ruth Tringham. Loader wanted to know, without actually asking the question, how much Damia was con- cerned with the matter Damia, for her part, feared to broach it, because she was honestly very much afraid of Lady Wood- mason, and did not wish to incur her wrath. After all, it would look so much better if she were able to tell the old lady that she had honestly assisted her in that business of keeping Ruth hidden. Therefore it was only after much desultory conversation that Loader asked, in a casual tone, the question that had been in his mind all the time. "Anvthing happened down here? Da.mia shrugged her shoulders, No—• nothing ever happens down here. I only came down because—well, because I was sick of the house, and I wanted to get away from the funeral; besides, I was rather up- set over that terrible inquest. All the hor- rid questions put to me about what T was doinD" that night and what I had heard and all the rest of it. I've arranged with the doctor, who was an old friend of my guar- dian, to be at the house, and to look after things until it is all over. You see, I don't know yet anything about the will." "About the will? I don't understand. Didn't Verinder tell you anything about what he was going to do? She shook her head. "You know he was very stern, always, and very secretive: he only told me once sometbing-soiuething about you." She bit her lip quickly, and caught her breath for nom 'nt. "Well—I can guess "as It" f 4 answered complacently. -•ppi"g 11JS arm about her. "You were to marry me--anu no one else in the world. You remember the talk we had -71-h him—<?on't i She nodded her head sloViy. ¡:le said, in a fa it -,I k- i < air;, and asked me first to marry vou-and ,QU spoke t6 him about it afterwards. I was only won- dr »g Her voice trailed cff, 1"911 the man looked ror.i d at her with 1. "He puzzled frown. "What are vou wondering?" he asked. "I was only wondering if my guardian had put in anything "bout m. his will," she said slowly. "I shouldn't be surprised," he answered, £ smile. IJean while Lady Woodmason, returning to that plr.>, she aJle-1 her "cottage," had been startled, as she wai admitted by a ser- vant, to u. maa's coat and hat in th. aall: she «'V 1" anxiously to know wJ. dad come to the house. Being given name of Morris Loader, she instantly, iff a sort of panic, went straight upstairs and into Ruth's room. There she sat down, and looked at Ruth with a tragic face, and shook her head dismally. "My dear," she said, "complications have arisen. Haven't you heaad? Ruth shook her head, and turned an anxious face to the old lady. "No," she said. "What is the matter? "The man Morris Loader has arrived, and is here now. I haven't seen him; I've simply been told that he's here. Oh, my dear— why on earth didn't I have the common- sense to leave you alone where you were, with that boy of yours to look after you ? "But what can have brought him down here?" asked Ruth. "He surely can't have found out anything about me." "My dear, it's probably just an accident," answered Lady Woodmason. "You see, he's engaged to Damia, and he has probably dis- covered, as he could very easily, that she has come off to see me, and so has followed her. But it makes it awkward; I confess I don't know what to do. Damia will blurt out the whole truth to him, and then where are we ? "You mean that he may tell people where I am—tell the police, perhaps?" suggested Ruth in a low voice. "That's just about what it means," an- swered the other, with a nod. "You see, in this extraordinary mystery by which we are surrounded, this man Loader is in some fashion or other mixed up. I'm pinning all my faith to you, and I believe sincerely all that you have said—even that extraordinary business of finding the man in the library at dead of night. If Loader wasn't concerned in the matter, there was no necessity for his being there, and if he hadn't had an accom- plice of some sort, he couldn't have got into the house and out again. Yet how do you match all that, and his engagement to Damia, with the story you have told me of her being married? However, I have pledged myself that I am going to see this thing through, and I am fighting on your side. There's just a chance that Damia may not have told him that you're here; at any rate, I'll do my best for you. I don't know whether I ought to get rid of the man and send him packing, or whether, on the other hand, he won't make an excuse to stop here. Leave it to me; I'm afraid I'm playing a losing game, but I'll do my best." Lady Woodmason was all smiles and sur- prised exclamations when she entered the drawing-room and saw Morris Loader. "My dear boy, I only just heard that you had arrived," she said, shaking hands with him. "I can guess what has brought you down here, at all events," she added slily. "Yes, I came to see Damia," he answered. "I had intended to return to town by an earlier train, but now "—he glanced at his watch—"there isn't another for an hour and a half. I waited because I wanted to see you," he added politely. Charming of you! murmured the old lady. "But I can't think of letting you go back all the way to London to-night. What would Damia say to me? Lady Woodmason was using the wisdom of years and experience and general know- ledge of life to fight against the problem which was, so far as she knew, embodied in the two people then facing- her-Damia Marsh and Morris Loader. It had occurred to her that, if only to gain time, she must keep this man in the house, and within touch of herself. The whole thing had been sprung upon her at a moment's notice, and she wanted time for thought and considera- tion. "I don't think I can dare put you out like that," said Loader with a glance at Damia. In any case, if I stayed at all, I should go down to the hotel in the town." "You would do nothing of the kind," said the old lady, with a quick laugh. "I don't treat my friends in that fashion, I can assure you. "But I've nothing with me," said Loader helplessly. "I can't possibly stay." Lady Woodmason was fighting hard for her point. She was not going to be beaten. "Oh, that's all right," she said gaily. "One of the men shall go down into the town and buy what you want—pyjamas, or whatever the things are. I'll excuse your dressing for dinner. We'll call it settled; and as I'm hungry, I hope dinner will be here pretty quickly." She went back again to Ruth; to find the I girl pacing up and down her room in a great state of agitation, and alarm. Ruth turned to her at once, and caught at her hands, and looked eagerly into her eyes. "Well, what is going to happen?" she de- manded. "Nothing is going to happen," answered the old lady. "Have the goodness to under- stand that this is my house and that I do what I like in it. Besides, I doubt if the man even knows that you are here; he hasn't said a word about you, at any rate. Keep your room for the present, and trust to luck. If the worst comes to the worst, I'm the better of Morris Loader to the extent of a motor-car, and I can whisk you off some- where else. The game isn't finished yet, by any means. That dinner party, to anyone who knew anything about the circumstances, and could only have been present, must have appeared a curious affair. Surely never such a watchful trio sat down to a meal and talked with apparent careless friendliness. Damia in particular chattered brightly, and talked about everything that was not serious; in fact, they all avoided the sub- ject that was uppermost in their minds, and talked of anything and everything else. Yet it came out at last, and from the man in whose mind it stood paramount. "I wonder what has become of that girl- what was her name?" "You mean the girl who is missing? asked Lady Woodmason, sharply. "Yes—that's the girl I mean," answered Loader. "Curious that she could manage to hide herself away, and defy anyone to find her. isn't it"'l" The eyes of Lady Woodmason and Damia met for just a moment, and then were averted again. Damia, after a pause, spoke with quiet insistence. "I do hope that they won't find her until the mystery has been better cleared up," she said. "It's simply ridiculous to think dear, gentle little Ruth doing a thing like that it's simply impossible." "I cordially agree with you," said the old lady. A thought flashed through the mind of Morris Loader. "Then Damia does not know that that girl is in the house. It's the old woman, after all." Aloud he said: "One can't be so sure in any criminal matter. Women have done strange things before | this—strange and unlikely things. Person- all- I hop- tint th-' girl will come forward and clear herself; that's the best chance for her." ) Meanwhile the prisoner in her room had had a meal taken up to her, and for the rest of the -— ? time hurg heavily on he hands. ,*? ue heard people passii g the door of her room, an-1 one the quick, cheery j sound "f a -ian whistling. It grew late, and j she .u r 1 ?c '?.rvan.ts retiTi?g presently a Pwat, stlllt 988 fEJ, ur'? tbe hou?. In no j > ■ oo-. • o*: icep. Ruth stood at the window looking- out over .llLt grounds, and thinking always the same weary round of ) thoughts. I The need for sor.s sort of companionship I —some 1 to touch.—^rew desperate. Lady ( Woodmason had not come near her again, I and Ruth began to wo.tder Tvhat had hap- pened. As matter of fact the old lady had I thougnt it best to ke. jj aw, frcm ;lv £ girl, having n" thing "urthar to tell :hot\" or tc dis- cuss with her. Rnth went to the door of her 700:2 aM opened it and looked out. There was 10 one in sight, tLe corxid jr was drk. So also I was the hall, save for one glimmering light, as Ruth looked o-er the head of the stairs. It occurred to her that perhaps Lady r- 0-1- had 1d 70 gam to Be? wwuM go da?m and. AnyQnng was better than thatZ'OOJl1.1Dw.halbeen hidden 80 long. All was perfectly quiet as she went down the room. open a door, and walked into the room. It was empty, and there was no light, save a gleam from a fire. Evidently everyone had retired; chilled and dispirited, Ruth walked across the room, and spread out her hands to the blaze. She started suddenly, and gave a gasp of fear. Stretched out in a deep chair which faced the fire, and the back of which had hidden him from her until she actually stood beside him, was Morris Loader. He looked up at her in a curiously impassive fashion, and a slight smile curved his lips. For a moment he did not speak. "Can I do anything for you?" he asked at last lazily. "I did not know that there was anyone here," faltered Ruth. "Obviously. But it's not the first time I've seen you to-day I saw you in the grounds when I first arrived. I suppose at the present moment, Miss Tringham, you are in a desperate fright—eh?" Her courage beg?n to come back. "I <?on't think I'm frightened at you," sh,e said it just possible that you have more reason to be afraid of me, Mr. Loader ?" sat up quickly, gripping the arms of the chair. "Now, what do you mean by that? he demanded. "It happens that I know nothing what- ever of that matter about which I am ac- cused; you must know something" about it, or you would not have been in that room in which I found you—that room in which Mr. Verinder was killed-the night after the murder." "Oh—you're still harping on that string, are you? he asked quietly. "You didn't f'ucceed in inducing anyone to believe you- did' you? Who would be likely to believe me? she asked bitterly. "If I could have held you that night I might have managed to prove my innocence, and perhaps to prove something else as well." There was a long silence, while she stood in the light of the fire, looking down at him. Presently he sank back into the chair again. "You're a dangerous woman, Miss Tring- ham," he s3.id quietly. "One of these days you may get someone into trouble with that tongue of yours, and with one of the impos- sible stories you tell with it. Put it to your- self that I knew hours ago that you were in this house, and that I have taken no steps to tell anyone else. Does that look as though I was trying to prove your enemy—or your friend? "Why have you come down here?" "I have come down to see the girl I love, and to whom I am engaged to be married," he answered. She gave a short laugh. "So she has de- ceived even you," she said "She tricked me, and she has tricked you." ''What are you talking about?" he asked, sitting upright again. "I don't know why I should help yo" u, or tell you anything you want to know, an- swered Ruth. "You and Damia are in some fashion plotting.together in this business— she first and then you. Why should I help you? He got slowly to his feet, and faced: her; in the dim light of the fire she could scarcely ma.ke out his features. "You've got to tell me." he said. "You say that she has been deceiving me; what do you mean by that ? "If you want to know anything about it go and find Mr. Paul Rutherford, who lives in Hall Court, Temple," she said. "Ask him what Damia Marsh is to him." She turned and walked quickly out of the room, leaving the man standing there, look- ing after her. He made no attempt to de- tain her, or to follow her; he simply stood there, repeating in a dull fashion that name ami that address over to himself. "Paul Rutherford—Hall Court, Temple! That name—unknown to him—haunted him; that and the address sang through his brain like some infernal tune of which he could not rid himself. Long after he had gone to his room he thought about it, and found himself drawing imaginary pictures of what this unknown man was like. He sat down there for a long time, making up his mind what to do. He would see Damia at the earliest pos- sible moment in the morning, and would spring that name and that address upon her. He would demand an explanation. And then he began to think about the matter, not more calmly, but with something more of subtlety. Damia would lie to him; so much was certain. Even his love for her had not blinded him to the fact that she would get out of a difficulty, if she possibly could, by taking a devious path rather than by frankly telling the truth. He would not tell Damia anything about it; he would say nothing, and would seize the opportunity of making inquiries for himself. After all, it was just possible th-at this was a mere invention on the part of Ruth Tringham, snct that no such being existed as Paul Rutherford. Women could be like that when thev were driven into a corner. He appeared at breakfast in the morning, and actually amused Lady Woodmason very much by various quips and sallies; so much so that she forgot her actual dislike of the man and her dread of him. He watched Damia hungrily during the progress of the meal, and decided that it was quite im-uos- sible that she could be deceiving him; those eyes, raised so trustingly to his from time to time across the table, were never made for sruile. He decided that he would have one shot at her and watch to see if it went home. He carefully led the conversation round to that natural subject: where would they live after they were married? He mentioned various places in or about London, and fiually threw off a casual remark, watching Damia from under lowered eyelids as he did so. "I'm getting a bit tired of my rooms in Knightsbridge; I've half a mind to see if I can get something somewhere else. Some- thing quieter. I was talking to a man the other day who told me that he had some splendid rooms in the Temple—Hall Court, I think he said." The shot had gone home. Damia had been sipping at her tea; the hand that held the cup shook, and the tea was spilled. She set the cup down hastily. Morris Loader's lips tightened, and he looked quickly away from her. He was urbanity itself when he took his leave of Lady Woodmason, who, reasonably enough, left him and Damia alone together. He took tjhe girl in his arms, and held her close for a moment or two without speaking. Then, lie threat her away not ungently, he said what was in his mind. tfy. -on,t forp-et what I said to you about I iw.v ab,- >rd isiness of my jealousy of you—oi tnvope elPe who might come into your hie—will you?" he said. "You have nothing i,o add to anything that you have said-no foolish little confession to make to Dir. ehY" "What c,y-;iC3sk>n could I possibly have to make? she asked, looking at him wide- eyed. "Nothing, of course. Only it may happen that the trme nrrry come when it is too Lí e to raako a Mnn, and when one may only site for pardon. Take care, Damia, that you never rc: in me a sleeping devil against which I 1.-ght hard on my own I account." I"! urderet,-and in the least what you are talking- 300m, JOKL silly boy," she answered playfully. H ( wrt back to London. While he sat n the the very whi-els of it, revering beneath him, seemed to pUty ryut that 'iw. 1 over and over again, maddeningly, fnt? he I I couM think of nothing e&e and hear aoLh! ? else. He seemed ? be n?H? t?r?ugh tb« t narrow courts of the Temple, with the river sparkling in the distance; he seemed to be finding his way into Hall Court, and there looking for the name of Paul Rutherford. He wondered what he should do if he found that by chance Ruth Tringham had not lied to him, and that name should stare at him, painted upon the door of some set of cham- bers. He went straight to his office and to work. Even with the coming and going of Clement Singleton, and the ordinary daily progress of business, he worked that problem out in his mind, and worked out in his mind also what he should do regarding the girl who had stood and talked with him late i night in the firelight in Lady Woodmason's house. Gradually the thought of her over- topped the thought of the man in the Temple. He began to see her as a strange figure in the business in which he was con- cerned—as a danger. The day drew to a close, and the actual business of it was finished. Clement, mov- ing mechanically through his duties, was re- membering always Ruth, who had disap- peared, and concerning whom he knew no- thing, remembering always that this man for whom he worked held the key, as it were, to the mystery by which she was sur- rounded. "I don't think I need detain you any longer, Singleton," said Morris Loader at last. "I have some private work to attend to; but you need not wait. Good evening." Clement went out and cleared up his papers for the day the clerk Turner had already gone. He put on his hat and moved to the door, looked back for a moment, and then went out, shutting the door behind him. Morris Loader was alone in the place. He had made up his mind at last. What- ever other business intervened, this woman, Ruth Tringham, was a danger. There was an easy way of getting rid of her, and a legal way. With a glance at the door, he lifted his own private telephone from the desk, and called a number. At that very moment Clement, remember- ing a matter that should have been attended to, and having remembered it only when he was half-way downstairs, opened the outer l,?,?, noiselessly with his key, and came in. The door of the inner office stood ajar; Ill-, heard clearly what Loader was saving: "You are Scotland Yard? I can give you he whereabouts of Miss Ruth Tringh m, tor whom I believe you are looking. Yes— v3s—my information is certain; I have seen J, i. She is staying with Lady Woodmason, The Cottage, Lipstone, Surrey." Clement tiptoed to the door and opened it, and went out. (To be Continued.)