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The Brussels Post, 1927-4-6, Page 7THE BRUSSELS POST APT t�t p 6 RB� By RAVAEL SABATINI fie GecesFIveSirr: Ev o eirld shall know how to earn his majesty's approbation. You may depend upon my loyal service" Thus it was settled. ' Blood':: com- mission was made out and sealed in the presence of Mallard, the eum- mandant. "We shall •sail to -morrow morn- ing," his lordship announced. Blood was startled. "And Colonel Bishop?" he asked. "He becomes your affair. You are now Governor. You will deal w:tn hint as you think proper on ihs re- turn. Hang hlm from his own yard. ammo. He deserves it." "Isn't the task a trifle invidious?" wondered Blood. "Very well. I'll leave a letter for him. I hope he'll like it." Captain Blood took up his duties at once. With the sanction of Lord Willoughby he marshalled his buc- caneers and surrendered to them one-fifth of the captured treasure, leaving to their choice thereafter either to •depart or to enroll them- selves in the serviee of King William. A score of theme elected to remain, and amongst these were Jemmy Pitt, Ogle, and Dyke, whose of tlawry, like Blood's, had come to an end with the downfall of King James. They were —saving old Wolverstone, who had been left behind at Cartagena—the only survivors of that band of rebel - convicts who had left Barbados over three years ago in the Cinco Llages. On the following morning, wluls ran der Kuylen's fleet was making filially readyfor sea, Blood sat in the spacious whitewashed room that was the Governor's office, when Maj- ei Mallard ' ought hien word that Bishop's horning squadron was in sight. "I am glad he comes before Lord Willoughby's departure. The ord, re, ajor, are that you place him under arrest the moment he steps ashore." Peter Blood sat back in his chile and stared at the ceiling, frown'ng. Carne a tap at the door, and an eld- erly negro slave presented himasif. ould his excellency receive Miss )shop? He sat quite still, conscious hat his pulses were cirununinl; in a Inner wholly unusual to them. .'hen quietly he esonted. He rose when she entered, and if he was not as pale as she was, it was because his tan dissembled it For a moment there was silence between them, as they stood looking each a' the other. Then she moved forward,` and began at last to speak, halting- ly, in an unsteady voice, amazing in one usually so calm and deliberate, "I T . , . Major Mallard has just told me . . ." "Major Mallard exceeded his duty," said Blood, and because of the effort he made to steady his voice sounded harsh and unduly loud. u alarm yourself without reason, m Bishop. Whatever may lin be- n me and your uncle, you may ire that I shall not follow the mple he has set me. I shall not e my 'position to prosecute a ate vengeance On -the contrary, all abuse it to protect him. Lord oughbv's recommendation to nme tat I shall treat him without mer - My own intention is to send m beck to his plantation in Bar - dos." She carne slowly forward now. "I • . I am glad that you will do that. Glad, above all, for your own sake" She held out her hand to him. He considered it critically. Then he bowed over it. "I'll not presume to take it in the hand of a thief and a pirate," said he bitterly. "You are no longer that," sho said and strove to smile. ' "Yet I owe •no thanks to you that I am not" he answered. "I think there's no more to be said unless 3, be to add the assurance that Lord Julian Wade ]las also nothing to ap- prehend from me. That, no doubt, will be the assur nee that your peace of mind requires?" "For your own sake—y..... But for your own sake only. 1 wmulla not have you do anything mean or dis- hnnorin " • "Thief and pirate though t be?" She clenched her hand, and mode a little gesture of despair a,.d im- patience, "Will you never forgive me those words?" j "I'nm finding it a -trifle hard, I con- ' fess. But what does it matter; when iall is said?" Hier clear eyes considered him a moment wistfully. Then she put out her hand again. "I am going, Captain Blood. Since you are so generous to my : uncle, I shall be return nt.. to Bar. , bados with him. We are not like to meet again—ever. Ts it impossible that we should part friends? Orme I wronged you, I know. And I have said that 1 am sorry. Won't you . . won't you say 'good-bye'?" He took the hand she proffered. retaining it, he spoke, his eyes som- brely, wistfully considering Iter. "You are returning to Barba- , dos?" he said slowly. "Will Lord 1 Julian he going with you?" "Why do you ask me that?" she confronted him quite fearlessly. "Sure, now, didn't he give you my VIM Letterheads Envelopes Billheads And all kinds of Business Stationery printed at The Post Publishing House. We will do a job that will do credit to your business. Look over your stock of Office Stationery and if it requires ' replenishing call us by telephone 21. The Post Publishing House settlement over which you had charge. It's a serious matter, Col- onel Bishop, as you may find. Con- sidering that you hold your onkel from the Government of King James it is even'possible that a charge of treason may lie against you. 1t Pests with your successor entirely whether ye're hanged or not., Bishop rapped out an oath, and then, shaken by a sudden fear: "Who the devil may you be?" he asked, "I am Lord Willoughby, (lover - nor -General of Itis Majesty's Colo- nies in the West Indies. You were informed, I think, of my coming;." The remains of Bishop's anger fell from him bike a cloak, He broke into a sweat of fear. Behind him 1 ord Julian looked on, his handsome face suddenly white and drawn. "But, my Lord—" began the Col- es, . ''Sir, I am not concerned to hear your reasons," his lordship interrup- 1.: ,l harshly. "I am on .he point of F‘. fling and I have not th • time. The Governor will hear you and no doubt deal justly by you." He waved to Major Mallard, and Bishop, a crump- led, broken man, allowed himself to be led away. To Lord Julian, who went with him, since none deters el him, Gish- ep expressed himself when presently he hail sufficiently recovered. "This is one more itnn tr the at•eount c -P that scoun Lel Icl.let1 ' ha said through his teeth. "My God, what a reckoning there will be when we meet!" Major Mallard turned away his face that he might conceal his smi'e, and without further word; led him prisoner to the Govel t or's house, t' ,it so )(mg had been Colonel 13is h' ep's ami eu idenee. lIc v ne 1• it to wait under guard in the hall, whilst Major Mallard went ahead to an- neunee him. Miss Bishop was still with .Peter r Illood when Major Mallard entered. Ills announcement startled them bark to realities. "Yon will •be merciful with Irian. You will spare him all you can for my sake, Pete)," she pleaded. "To be sure I will," said Blmy1, "hut I'm afraid the circumstances won't.,, She effaced herself, escaping into the gm'den and Major Mallard fetch- ed the Colonel. "His IExcellency, the Governor, will see you now," said he, and threw wide the door. Colonel Bishop staggered in and stood waiting. • At the table sat a man of whom nothing was •visible but the top of a carefully curled, black head. Then this head was raised, and a pair of blue eyes solemnly regarded the prisoner. Colonel Bishop made a Weise in his throat, and, staled into the face of His Excellency, the De- puty -Governor of Jamaica, which was the face of the man he had been hunting in Tortuga to his present undoing. The situation was best expressed to Lord Willoughby by Van der Kuy- len as the pair stepped aboard the Admiral's flagship. "Id is fery boedical1" he said, his Hoe eyes twinkling. "Cabdain Blood is fond of boedry—you re- member de abble blossoms. So? Ha, ha!" THE END message, or did he bungle it?" "No. He didn't bungle it. Ile ave itto r e g n in your own words. It touched me very deeply. It made me see clearly my error and my in- justice. I owe it to you that I should Copyright say this by way of amend. T judged too harshly where it was presump- Z tion to judge at all." T He was still holding her hand. e "And Lord Julian, then?" lie asked, q his eyes watching her, bright as sapphires in the copper -colored •face. "Lord Julian will no doubt be go- ing home to England. There is noth- ing more for him to do out here." "But didn't he ask you to go with him?" "He did. I forgive you the im- pertinence." A wild hope leapt to life within him. "And you? Glory be, ye'il not he telling me ye refused to become my lady, whon . . ." "Oh; You are insufferable!" She tore her hand free and backed away from him. "I should not have come . Good-bye!" She was speeding to the door. He sprang after her, and caught .:. her. Her face flamed, and her eyes g stabbed him like daggers. "These are pirate's ways, I think! Release me!" "Arabella!" he cried on a note of pleading. "Are ye meaning it? Must T release ye? Must I let ye go and never set eyes on ye aigain? Or will yo stay and make thus exile endur- able until we can go home together? Och, ye're crying now' What have I said to make ye cry, my dear?" "I . . . 1 thought- you'd never say it," el." mocked hits.' thr:ugh her tears. "Ti.. �s was never, never any- body but y'.u, Peter." Governor Blood forget the duties of his office,. Ile had reached home at last. His odyssey was ended. They had, of course, a deal to say thereafter, to nmu011, indeed, that they sat clown to say it, whilst time sped on, and Governor Blood forgot the duties of his office. HIe had reached home at last. His odyssey was ended. And meanwhile Colonel Bishop's fleet had come to anchor, and the Colonel had landed on the mote, a disgruntled man to bo disgruntled further yet. He was accompanied ashore by Lord Julian Wade. A corporal's guard was drawn up to receive him, and in advance of this steed Major Mallard and two others who, were unknown to the Deputy-Goernor; one slight, and elegant, the other big and brawny.' Major Mallard advanced, "Colo- nel Bishop, I have orders to arrest you. Your sword, sir!" Bishop stared, empurling. "What the devil? Arrest me, d'ye say? Ar- rest One?" "By order of the Governor of Jamaica," said the elegant little man behind Major Mallard. Bishop swung to him. "Time Governor? You're mad!" He looker) .from one to the other. "I ein the Governor." "You were," saiil the little ratan dryly. "But we've changed that in your absence, You're broke for ab- andoning; ;ypur post without due delete and therefore imperilling the Lik �i ir!u. ix } 1913. —By MARY ROBERTS RINEHA1RT 1 PROLOGUE Was Jennie Brice murdered? If she were murdered, who was guilty of the foul deed? If she were not done away with by an assassin, what be- came of her? Whence did she disappear? These and a few other inter- esting questions are raised at once in this very clever tale of mystery written by a wo- man who is not only an adept at writing fiction of this char- acter, but the possessor of a style that chains the interest by its clearness and directness and wins by its rich humor. CHAPTER I. rr that time, I believe, was still an in - 0 dependent city. But since then it has allied itself with Pittsburgh; it is now the north side of the city. ti We have just had another flood, bad enough, but only a foot or two of water on the first floor. Yesterday we got the mud shoveled out of the cellar and found Peter, time spaniel that Mr. Ladley left when he "went away." The flood, and the fact that it was Mr•.'"Ladley's dog whose body was found half buried in the base- ment fruit closet, brought back to me the strange erente of the other flood five years ago, when the water reached more than half way to the second story, and brought with it to 50010 mystery and ;sudden death, .11x1 If. me +he worst case of "shingle:" 1 have cvcr seen. 11.4 mine is Pitta tn.—in this nar- rative:. It is not really Pitme e, bet the: dc es well enough. I belong to an old Pittsburgh family. I was born on Penn avenue, when that was the best part of town, and I lived, until I was fifteen, very close to what is now the Pittsburgh club. It was a dwelling then; I have forgotten who lived there at that time. 1 was a girl in '77, during the rail- road riots, and I recall our driving in the family carriage over to one of the Allegheny hills, and seeing the yards burning, and a great noise of shooting from across the river. It was the neat year that I ran aWaY from school to marry, Mr. Pitman; I have not known my family since. We wore never reconciled, although I camp back tp,- Pittsburgh after twenty years of wandering. Mr, Pit- man was dead; the old city called me and I came. I had a hundred dollars or so, and I took a house in lower Allegheny, where, because they are partly inun- dated every spring, the rents are (',heap, and I kept boarders. My ]rouse was always orderly and clean, and although the neighborhood had a bad name, a good many theatrical people stopped with me. !Give min- utes across the bridge and they Were in the theatre tlistriet. Allegheny, at I was glad to get back. I worked hard, but T made my rent and my living and a little over. Now and then on summer evenings I went to one of the parks and, sitting on a bench, watched the children playing around and looked at 1u3r sister's house, closed for the summer. It is a very large house. Her butler once had his wife boarding with me—a very nice little woman. It is curious to recall that at that tine, five years ago, I had never seen my niece, Lida Harvey, and then to think that only the day before yes- terday she came in her automobile as far as she dared and then sat there, waving to me, while the police p itrol brought across in a skiff a basket of provisions she had sent me. I wonder what she would Have thought had she known that thi eld- erly woman in a calico wrapper, with an old overcoat 'ever it and a pair of rubber boots, was her full aunt. The flood and the sight of Lida both brought back the case of Jennie Brice, for even then Lida and Mr. Howell were interestedd•nm each other, This is April. The hood of 1907 was earlier, in March. It had been a long hard winter, with ice gorges in all the upper valley. Thee in early Mach there came a thaw. The gor- ges broke up and began to come down, filling the rivers with crashing, grinding ice. There are three livers at Pitts- burgh, the Allegheny and the Mono- slahela Uniting there at the point to ferret the Oho. .And all tit:oe wore covered with broken ice, logs and all sorts of debris from the upper val- leys. A warning was sent out from the weather bureau. and I got my car- pets ready to lift that morning, That was on the 4th of Marva. s Snlday. Mr, Ladley and hi,, wife, Jennie Brice had the parlor bedroom and the room behind it. Mrs. Ladley, or Miss Brice, as she preferred to be known, had a small part at a local theatre that kept a pot'manont com- pany. Her husband was in that busi- ness, too, but he had nothing to do, It was the wife who paid the bilis, and a lot of quarreling they did about it. I knocked at the door at 10 o'clock and Mr. Ladley opened it. He was a short man, rather stout and getting bald, and t e always had a cigarette. Even yet `ttio parlor carpet smells of then, "What do you want?" he asked sharply,rholding the door open about an inch, , "The water's corning up very fast, Mr, Ladley," I said. "It's up to the swinging shelf in the cellar new. I'd like to take up the carpet and move the piano." "Colne back in an hour or to," he snapped and tried to close the door. But I had got my toe in the crack, "I'll have to have the piano mov- ed, Mr. Ladley," I said. "You'd bet- ter put off what you are doing." I thought he was probably writing. Hr spent most of the day writing, using the washstand as a desk, and it kept me busy with oxalic acid taking ink spots out of the splasher and the towels. He was writing 0 play and talked a lot about the Shuberts hav- ing 'premised to ::tar him in It when it was finished. "H—!" he :aid, and, turning, spoke to somebody in the room. "We can go into the beck room," I heard him say, and he closed the door. When he opened it aga n the room was empty. I called in Torry,• time Irishman who does odd jobs for me now and then, and we both got to work at the tacks in the carpet, Terry working by the window and I by the door into the back )arlor, whieh the annoys used as a bed- room. That is how I happened to hear what I afterward told the police Some one—a man, but not Mr. Ladley--was talking. Mrs. Ladley broke in: "I won't do it!" she said flatly. "Why should 1 help hint? He doesn't help me. He loefe here all day, smoking and sleeping, and sits up all night, drinking and keeping are awake." The voice went on again, as tf in reply to this, and I heard a rattle of glasses, as if they =c•r.' n, usteg drinks. They always had whiskey, even when they were hehin-1 with their hoard. "That's all very well," Mrs. Larl- lev said. I could always hear her, she hovel e a theatrical sort of vole° one thet carries. "Bat what about the pry ng she devil that runs this house?" "Hush, for God's s:ter"' broke In DI>•. Ladle;!, and aft.,. that •Iley spoke in whispers. Even with my ear agl''st the panel i cauld not catch a wile, The men came just then to move the piano, and by the time we had taken it and the furniture upstairs the water was over the kitchen floor and creeping forward into the hall. I had never seen the river coma up so fast. By noon the yard was full of floating ice, and at three. that after- noon the police skiff was on the front streets, and I was wading around in rubber boots, taking the pictures off the walls. I was too busy to see who the Lad- leys' visitor was and he had gone when I remembered him again. The Ladleys took time second story front which was empty, and Mr. Reynolds, who was in the silk department in a store acros9lthe river, had the room THURSDAY, APRIL 0th, 1027 just behind. 1 put up a coal stove n. a hack room next the bathroom and manag- I ed to cook the dinner there. I was w ehinp. up the dishes when Dor. 1 Reynolds ea"u+ !u. As it was Sunday hn wee in his slippers and had the oolsr,"d enaplcmmlit of a morning paper in hi • hand. "What's the matter with the Lad- leys'?" he asked. "I can't read for their quarreling." Booze, prohobly," 1 sail. you've lived in the floral district as long as 1 have, Mr. Reynolds, ,.^ou",t know that the rising Of the liver is a signal for every man in the vi.•'nity to stop work and e:et fall. The fell- er the river the fuller tht: