Abergavenny Chronicle

JALL RIGHTS RKBXBT».] The Amazing Pait BY GILBERT DAYLE, a The Pari Author of Mr. HalzdeWs Love A?if, "The Part the Countess Played," &c. TheAvona Castle from the Cape h&d struck Southampton late on the afternoon of a dull November day, and now the boat "special," freighted with an impatient lot of passen- gers, was doing the best time she could up the line to town. She was not, however, likely to make a record journey, for the mis- tiness of the day had increased with nightfall and frequently she ran into patches of fog that necessitated slowing up. Sitting comfortably in the corner of one compartment was a young man. He was quite young, twenty-five at the utmost, and 4n agreeable specimen of open-air manhood. "Dear old Gran!" he laughed to himself, as he folded up a letter, "always harping on the old string—my responsibilities—time for settling down and all the rest of it! Well, I'm in no hurry—don't think I'm much of a sentimentalist!" The train came gradually t. a stop and, a leeble light gleaming through the carriage window, he saw they were drawn up at a small station. The name on the oil lamp showed the name of the place to be Bam- stoke, a tiny village about half-way towards London. He drew his rug closer round him and was -about to pick up a magazine when the loud Mare of a motor hoin reached his ears. He looked out of the window again; there was a road running parallel to the line, and through -the fog he could just see the head lights of a large car coming towards the station. The ,train began to move. Then, suddenly, something very astonish- ing happened! From the wooden shelter-almost opposite his carriage—a lady emerged. She made a dart for his compartment, opened the door, and jumped in as the train was moving. He grasped her arm and shut the door after her. As he did so, he heard a hoarse shout from "the platform, and caught a glimpse of the big motor car, now at a standstill by the station. Then he resumed his seat and glanced at :11is new companion. She was leaning back against the cushions opposite him, a trifle ex- hausted with her exertion. She was a young girl, and the first look told him that she was bewilderingly pretty. "I'm so sorry!" she burst out breathlessly. ""I must apologise for disturbing you in this -fashion. This is a special train, isn't it?" He nodded. "Yes, I knew there was to be one-they old me. I was waiting for the ordinary one in a few minutes' time, but she came to ■a nervous stop. "The motor horn?" he suggested. A little swift wave of colour suffused her cheeks. It struck him again that she was wondrous pretty. "You heard?" He inclined his head with a smile. "Of course, I know it's a very strange pro- oeeding on my part, and it looks she paused in confusion. "It looks," he put in helpfully, "yes, it looks remarkably as if you were doing a .bolt I" She gave a little gasp of relief. "Yes, that's just what it is!" She looked across at him appealingly. "You won't—you won't give me away?" What eyes she had! Give her away! "Not I," he cried. "Why on earth should "Well, you might think it your duty—if you knew." "I won't know! Leastways, only as much "Z you care to tell me! You can count me ?owa your friend!" She held out an impetuous little hand to him. "Thank you!" the said gratefully, and •gain their eyes met. All the same, I feel I owe you some ex- planation," she went on. "Tell me as little as you like-the merest bald outlines—not but that Tm frightfully rested," he added. 11 "Well, I had better not mention any thes; you won't have any clue then, and n before your sense of duty won't be Gouged." it very bad then?" She hesitated. "Not from my point of view. You see, I've bolted from my guardian for two days." "If you've left a suitable explanation, he ttiay not be very much annoyed," he haz- arded. "I'm afraid he will-I think he'll be furi- ous. In two days' time I shall be twenty- 'One. A light broke over him. "And out of his jurisdiction, eh? He Ranted you to do something you didn't like the last few days of his guardianship. Why didn't you do it?" "You see, it was rather a big something," 8he paused. "He wanted me to marry some- tjne I didn't want to marry at all." "Jove-the man with the motor car?" The girl nodded. "Yes despite my unwillingness my guar- insisted, and the marriage was arranged to-morrow. To-night, I pretended I had headache, went to my room, packed a few 1 flings in this basket, and slipped away. They ,kust have somehow discovered my escape." "And hence the pursuit in the motor car?" \ti "Yes—mustn't he have been annoyed to M"j the special had stopped to pick me up?" I expect he was." But, it seems rather rough on him," he s *id, trying to impart a little severity into his t, Q?s. Unless, of course, he's—er—well, ?what.detectable." 0 ^h, he M—and more 80," she put in em- Really. "e Was relieved. "t? ?e needn't be pitied, then?"  h, no He knew I hated him. I think 'tie l8 only getting his deserts. You are not s???g—you will be my friend?" she asked au,dd?-. y. though 6rrA as ?ver!" he cried. "I'm glad t- hear it's only mere justice." He Paused '? must think of business. What are  Plans for to-night?" are 'All ??tplete!" she said triumphantly. "T» T!rit^Q to an old school friend who 9 at pstead. I'm going there to iw m hIding for two days. I've got hei ?t? t<. -I the address here." She opened a !tt that hung from her wrist, and she ?lt -? ?? ?°S from her wrist, and she She gave a little quick cry of alarm. ? Gracioua, I've left it behind! And being "ew address, I don't remember it. It's ??htfully awkward. I must have dropped -?.?niewhere. I'm certain I brought it away lth me. Anyway, I must hope for the best. ??r?say when I get to Hampstead I shaU lia.ble to find her house by inquiring." "e shook his head. On a foggy night in November, and rather no. that won't do-for you," he said <<T a frown. 'l  supper I could go to an hotel?" she put "?OUsly. 4, r yourself? No." He looked up quick- ItIOtb: ?? must come and stay at my grand- *r',8—u that is what you must do!" he said Mtjj *o a*r of Snality. "K 4n air of finality. Ilh e novel and somewhat sudden sugges- "tioll r49de her laugh. ?ln ? perhaps she won't be delighted to  me?" 't a bit. She's a charming old per- Sf quite sure of it," said the girl. "But 4,t r4 You see, I'm doing something illegal, ,?Ad t ?ould not be fair to let anybody else '? ?.. into it. What do they call it?— ??? t???ahd t abetting, or something of that i ?om't n..i:d tbat: You tee? she t4%kt, bather a fuN of m<, and, ???.? ? ? coming home after & six ???Sh?R? ?????g trip, and am going to spend hra,11 ]Ri- ght in town with her—and she ',?thY i. tik a it rather nice of me. So, you can take t4y  i-t will be quite All right. You'll .tbr4t W n you?I right. You'll ? "? 0^ y°uf" 4,It ,YIou, quite eure," .he .aid. "And I 1i 8o nn ? Hampstead the first thing in the \?6Qf ? t's really awfully kind of you to V So trouble," she added gratefully. ?I'm t?&h'??g it. I'm going to see you .^4d^ven I get five ?eara for it!" yhoeu \l ? t k K-+ ??kward, though, oar not being  to > it .wkward, though, our not being ?4. "H? 01 one another's names," he went Wi^^lel et i/OU think it would be frightfully '4er eet if 'Wlb were to go a little way and \t?? e?h were to go a little way and ??. ?? ? ChriBtian nMnec?" he tt L?Ll%e"l' di Irupled. t* fmary circumstances that would toin 1 "Ith-r long wy in the first half 1 ^Quldn't it,!ong way in the firet half I "But since we simply can't use our sur- ames—and I must refer to you as some hing' And, of course, the Christian names vill give no clue whatever!" "Well, my godfathers and godmothers in ay baptism decided on Coralie," the answered, a trifle shyly. "People of discernment, too!" he said, hinking "Coralie" a jolly name for quite me of the j oiliest girls he had met. "And she said, inquiringly. "Oh, most of my friends call me Jim," he answered boyishly. "Yes," she said, looking at him critically. 'I like that. You are Jim." Some thirty minutes later they were at Waterloo—the time seemed to have passed like magic. Then there was a hansom cab, and a hurried drive through foggy London streets. "Well, if, somehow, I did not feel certain you were one of the nicest men in the world, Jim, how horribly frightened I should be!" she whispered. "Thank you, Coralie," he said soberly. A few minutes later, and they were stand- ing together in the hall of a large house near Hyde Park. "In the drawing-room, you say? No, don't announce me," Jim said to the manservant. He turned to Coralie with a smile. "This way," he said, and led her across the hall. "Come along in." An elderly lady with white hair was sitting before a fire at the far end. With a bound Jim crossed the room to her, and she rose from her seat with a little cry. "Why, Jim, my dear boy!" she exclaimed. He put his arms round her neck and kissed her affectionately. Then the old lady glanced at Coralie. "Gran," cried Jim, "a quite extraordinary thing has happened to-night. This young lady is on her way to a friend at Hampstead, but has lost the address. I'm going to ask you to be good enough to put her up for the night. The old lady gave Coralie a keen little critical glance, then, without further &do, made her way across the room to her. "Of course, my dear, she said kindly. "I shall be only too pleased to be of any assistance to you." "It's more than kind of you," broke in Coralie. "I know it must seem very extra- ordinary, butr-" She came to & stop help- lessly. "That is all right," said the old lady, patting her hand. "I am quite satisfied to carry out any idea of Jim's," she added, with a fond glance at the young man. "Didn't I tell you?" he cried triumphantly. The old lady went to the wall and pressed a button. A maid appeared. "Will you show this lady to a room, Straker. She will stop the night." She turned to Coralie. "If you will come down in a few minutes, my dear, I'll have some refreshment waiting. I am sure you must both be famished!" Almost in a maze, Coralie followed the trim maid out of the room. "Thank you, Gran," he said. "You are the dearest, most sensible old lady I know. Now I'll tell you the whole story." And he did, right from the time he heard the blare of the motor-horn. "She's one of us, Gran. I could see it at a glance." "It certainly is rather romantic-but then, I like romance; we get so little of it nowa- days. She seems to have made rather an im- pression upon you." "Of course she has! Hasn't she with you?" "I'll tell you more about her later on!" re- plied the wise old lady. And then Coralie re-appeared and "Gran" led the way to a cosy little room where the daintiest supper imaginable was in waiting. It was all wonderfully pleasant, thought Jim as he glanced across at the girl. With her hat and coat removed she seemed prettier than ever! And in an armchair at the back sat the old lady, watching the pair closely with her sharp little eyes. She paid more attention, perhaps, to the girl, who, happily, was quite unconscious of the close scrutiny to which she was being subjected. And after the jolly little supper, another pleasant hour in the drawing-room—all too short, reflected Jim, as at length Coralie rose to go to bed. She said good-night to the old lady, then Jim saw her to the door. She held out her hand and for a moment their eyes met. "Good-night!" she said. Jim saw a tinge of colour sweep over her cheek. The next moment she had vanished and he came back to the old lady. "Well, Gran? eaid Jim with a laugh. "I suppose it isn't possible that-in a single evening—the thing's preposterous!" he stammered out. "My boy," said the old lady, "love is always preposterous! And with that Jim went to bed. He rose rather late the next morning and hurried downstairs, only to be met with this as- tonishing note. It ran-- "Dear Jim, This is not ingratitude-only discretion. There is sure to be & fuss, and I think that by leaving for Hampstead at once, any chance of your grandmother and yourself being mixed up in it will be reduced to a minimum. In two days' time, when I shall be my own mistress, I hope to be able to call and thank you both for your kindness in har- bouring a runaway. -CORALIE. To say the least of it, Jim was bitterly dis- appointed. He went in search of his grand- mother, and found she had received a similar note. "I like it-the right spirit! she said. "Yes, the right spirit-but annoying!" he said gloomily. "There are two days to get through before I can find out who she He had strolled out to his club and in the reading-room had picked up a paper devoted to South African affairs. Under "Society Gossip he, by some chance, caught sight of the word "Coralie" and read the para- graph quickly. "The well-known and popular Lionel Bel- stein has not been seen much in town lately. Perhaps a reason for this can be found in the fact that at two o'clock to-day he will be married at Bamstoke Parish Church to Lady Coralie Walliston, only daughter of the late Marquis of Brackdale, and ward of General Sir Cornlev Yorke." The paper fluttered from his hands. "Lady Coralie Walliston. I was right then he murmured. "And engaged to Lal Belstein Interested in South African affairs himself, he knew the man by sight and unsavoury re- putation. A youngish millionaire, very suc- cessful, trying to break into society, Lal Bel- stein, of Wallbrook, Johannesburg, and Park-, lane No wonder Coralie had fled from him. He could not help smiling to himself as he thought of Coralie safe in Hampstead. i "Ail the Belstein forces couldn't do it, What on earth could the General, her guar- dian, be about to try and force her to marry a brute like that! Thank heaven the is safo out of their clutches. Lady Coralie Walliston -I must double back to tell Gran!" He made his way out of the club, and the first thing that caught his eye was the first edition placard of an evening paper, and in big letters he read;- "HAMPSTEAD SENSATION LADY ABDUCTED IN A MOTOR CAB." lIe bought a' paper, opened it quickly, and read the following: "Mysterious affair at Hampstead. What a postman saw in Cedar-avenue this morning!" He read on eagerly and found that a post- man delivering letters about nine o'clock no- ticed a young lady with a basket in her hand apparently attempting to discover a particu- lar house. Within a few moments, the post- man witnessed an astonishing incident-no less than the sudden abduction of the young lady "by two men who sprang from a large covered motor-car that had stopped just be- hind her. A second or 80 afterwards and the car was vanishing in the distance. The whole affair had happened so quickly that the worthy postman had no opportunity of taking the number. As to the appearance of the two men, he could only say that one was tall and elderly with a white moustache and a somewhat military bearing, and the other younger, short and dark. Jim crammed the paper in his pocket. "Eidnvpped, by jove!" he muttered ex- citedly. No doubt entered his mind as to the id-eit tity of the girl and the men with the car. Th. General and Belstein had found the letter she had left behind giving the, address at Hampstead and rushed up to town on the car. And they would get her down, to Bam- stoke in ample time for the ceremony at two. He had misjudged the Belstain forces! What was to be done? He strode along deep in' thought. What was iir. to do with aim? Nothing-unleas, by any chance, he had happened to have fallen in lovw with her. Had h« ? He stopped suddenly, as if in hesitation. Looking round ha saw a cab- The next moment he had jumped into it and told the man to drive to Waterloo as fast as he could. "I'll just run down anyway; perhaps I shall be able to do something!" he said grimly. In a few minutes he was in a train whirl- ing down the Southampton line again, his brain vainly trying to hit upon some feasible plan. l "I can't make head or tail of a man like Sir Cornley Yorke trying to marry his ward to Lal Belstein!" he said for the hundredth time. "There's something ugly in it!" He alighted at the little station of Bam- stoke and found it was one o'clock. "They must have got down a couple of hours ago, unless they have been stopped!" he thought. He learnt that Bamstoke House was about a mile away, and as he strolled along the quiet country road he pondered deeply, but, try as he might, he could find no solution to the mystery. Presently he rea.ched the gates of Bam- stoke House. There was a IQdge, but ap- parently it was deserted. The house stood beyond the bend in the drive and was not visible. As he stood gazing, he heard in tho dis- tance the throb of a motor. "Perhaps after all they have been stopped —are coming now!" he reflected. He had no desire to be seen, so hurriedly concealed himself from view in a clump of trees on the roadside. The throb grew louder, and looking up the road Jim\ saw a large car in the distance very similar to the one he had noticed in the fog last night. Another minute and it had drawn up out- side the lodge. Belstein wae driving, and was the first to alight, and went to open the gato. A door opened at the side and the General jumped out. Jim caught a momen- tary glimpse of Coralie's face, white and set. He felt a thrill go through him. "What is Carter about not being here?" cried the General irately. "Is no one in the lodge I'll He walked quickly to the lodge, and tap- ging on the door, opened it and entered. Belstein followed him with a laugh. "Don't be too hard on them on my wed- ding day!" he cried. "I want to speak to Carter, too he added as he disappeared. Then suddenly a great idea dawned upon Jim. Springing from his place of conceal- ment he tore across the road to the car, perched himself in the driving seat, and thrusting down the starting lever the car leapt forward. He heard a cry from the lodge, but he merely put the car at her top speed and in a few minutes they were a couple of miles away along the road. "Two can play at the abduction game," he thought to himself. Then in a lonely part of the road he drew up, and, jumping down, opened the door and looked in on Coralie. "Now?" he queried with a smile. "Jim!" she cried in amazement. "We haven't much time for explanations," he observed briskly. "I just want to know your wishes. In four minutes you can be back at the house-in ample time to dress for the ceremony." She shuddered. "Or I can run you on to Franley, wire to Belstein that his car is waiting for him at the hotel, and take you on to a place of safety for a couple of days—which?" She looked up into his face. "I'd much prefer to bolt again," she said, and a smile trembled round her lips. He touched his cap. I I Iltight'miss!" he said, shutting the door. Feeling chilly, he slipped into Belstein's fur driving coat, then off they went again. In another three quarters of an hour they were at Franley. He drove the car up to the Queen's Botel and ordered some tea for Coralie. "I shan't be away for more than fifteen minutes!" he said, after seeing her comfort- ably installed in a sitting-room, and strode away in his fur coat. First of all he want to the local garage and ordered a car to be sent round to the hotel at once. Then he proceeded to the telegraph office and despatched two wires. One was to Belstein and ran:— "Thanks for loan of car and coat-both waiting at Queen's Hotel, Franley." The next was to his grandmother. "Can you come to Handley for a night or so-Coralie there.—Jim." As he walked back to the hotel, he uncon- sciously thrust his hand into a pocket of the fur coat, and brought out an unaddressed envelope. Not being accustomed to wearing other people's clothes, he forgot for the moment it was Belstein's property, and opened it without thinking. The first thing he pulled out was a cheque for £ 25,000, drawn in favour of General Sir Cornley Yorke, and signed Lionel Belstein. With it was a letter:— "As arranged, on the day of my marriage to your ward, I hand you herewith the sum of twenty-five thousand pounds, to take the place of her fortune lost by you in South African speculations. Jim reaai no more. He replaced the con- tents of the envelope hurriedly. "The something ugly!" he murmured. "No wonder poor old Yorke was forced to make the marriage. Same old story of the trustee and gambling with the funds. In the grip of Belstein-poor devil!" At the hotel he stuck down the envelope, and addressed it to Belstein. He met Coralie in the hall. "What now?" she asked. "'Oh, all change here!" he answered, point- ing to the new car that was waiting in the yard. Explanations en route, he added. He led the way, and they got into the car. "I'm a passenger now," he said, seating himself beside her, and spreading a thick rug over them. "We have thirty-five miles to do." He lay. the word to the chauffeur, and they were off again. An soon as they were clear of Franley, Coralie turned to him. It's all very extraordinary. How on earth- 1" He told her briefly the story of the South African paragraph and the night edition that appeared at eleven o'clock. "And you came down at once to Bam- ■toke?" she cried, in wonderment. "What- ever induced you-" She came to ft stop suddenly. He turned and looked into her face-quite the prettiest he had ever seen. Then he laughed softly. "Thought I'd like to—pretty country, nice day for a run, and that sort of thing," he answered untruthfully. There was a few moments' silenoe. Coralie seemed rather deep in thought. Presently she looked up at him again. "May I ask where we are going now? I hope I am not unduly curious, but the excur- sion is just a little unusual, isn't it?" she asked. "Oh, dear no—quite normal," he answered lightly. "As a matter of fact we are well on the way to Handley Towers." "Handley Towers," she repeated, wrink- ling her pretty eyebrows. "Why, isn't that one of the places belonging to the Duke of Northborough?" "Yes—they tell me it's mine," he replied coolly. She turned round in her seat and looked him straight in the face. "Are you-are you the Duke of North- borough?" He nodded. There was a moment's pause. Then he saw a smile dimple about her mouth. "It seems rather a pity to discover it. You see, I shan't be able to call you Jim again." Then this young man, who, twenty-four hours ago, had declared that he wasn't "much of & sentimentalist," did an absurd thing. He moved his arm and caught hold of her hand under the rug. "I'm very much hoping you'll continue to do it-and for the remainder of your life, too," he added, in a voice that trembled slightly. < < "An amazin' pair, my dear!" observed "Gran"—otherwise the Marchioness of Hex- mouth-to Po. crony a few months later. "They met one another in amazin' fashion, became engaged in an a*naziii' short time, and, 'pon my word, they seem quite amazin'ly happy now!"