Evening star. [volume], June 28, 1936, Page 13, Image 85

About Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972

Image provided by: Library of Congress, Washington, DC

                
Ill Wind
Continued from page nine
gaged to him and she’d have to stay
engaged for a decent length of time.
Jane inquired what was a decent
length of time for a bogus engagement,
and John said that could be discussed
at dinner. Then he rang off.
Jane sat very still, thinking about
John Trench. A strange man, she
decided, to be set on making a monkey
of himself for a girl he scarcely knew
— and hadn’t fallen for, either. Why,
she had clung to him like a morning
glory on the top deck, under an
elusive moon, and he had never kissed
her. But she’d never wanted anyone
but Alan to kiss her, so it was just as
well.
She wondered what she would say
when Alan telephoned. She decided
she wasn’t capable of coping with him
at the moment and she pulled on her
coat and rushed out of the apartment
to do a little marketing.
Later, when Jane had put on her
best evening frock, a corsage of gar
denias arrived with a card bearing the
single word "John.” As she was pin
ning on the flowers, the bell rang
again. John had said seven, and it
lacked fifteen minutes of the hour. She
opened her apartment door. Alan
Hillyer stood on the threshold.
“Oh,” she gasped, “it’s you! You
might have telephoned first!”
jdllC, jam., lit 3<UU, Ilia iiuiivio VII
her shoulders. “Don’t talk like that!
I had to sec you! And I was afraid if I
telephoned you’d put me off.”
“You wanted to be the first to wish
me well," said Jane, gathering her
flying wits. “That was nice of you.”
“I came because I love you, Jane!
1 was insane to think I could get on
without you. 1 knew it the moment
you'd sailed. I*ook here, this Trench
business — I just heard of it — it’s
ridiculous.”
"Ridiculous?” Jane repeated coldly.
“Yes — you don’t really know the
man, and you and 1 were brought up
together. You’d make a grand wife for
me, Jane, if you’d only try a little
harder to be like other girls.”
“If you think other girls are so
right, why don’t you marry one?”
she suggested dispassionately.
The bell rang again. “Because I love
you," said Alan.
Jane released the latch of the out
side hall door. “But I’m engaged to
John Trench," she said in a clear
voice, opening her apartment door.
“A name to conjure with,” John
called, as he ran up the stairs.
“Darling,” she cried, “Alan Hillyer
is here — to congratulate us." Behind
Alan's back, she signalled John that
he had walked in on a Situation.
John and Alan faced each other.
Jane’s heart thumped.
“How do you do?” Alan said
formally, putting out his hand.
John Trench clasped it warmly.
‘'I’ve heard a lot about you. It’s nice
of you to wish us well.”
Alan’s color deepened. “But I don’t
— that is, I didn’t. That isn't why I
came here, Mr. Trench.”
John looked politely interested.
“No?” he said.
Alan continued, "You probably
know Jane and I were engaged. Then
we broke it off. I want her to marry
me.”
Jane’s teeth clamped down on her
lower lip. The brazen effrontery of the
inan! “We broke it, Alan?” she asked.
“Well, I may have indicated that I
didn’t think we were too well-suited
for marriage.”
John had dropped into a chair. He
took out his pipe. Jane leaned against
the mantelpiece. Her face was burning.
John addressed Alan, "And you’ve
changed your mind, Mr. Hillyer? You
think now that you and Jane should
marry?”
“Yes, Trench. I do. You must
realize that Jane and I grew up
together. We have the same friends,
the same interests. We’re—excuse me
— we’re about the same age. We — ”
John stopped him. “What does Jane
think?”
Jane was thinking that the illus
trious Mr. Trench would never do on
the stage. As an actor, he was the per
fect Presiding Justice — only the jury
was missing. Well, she couldn't say
that, and she had to say something.
“Alan knows that you and 1 are en
gaged,” she answered simply.
“Yes, I do,” said Alan, “and I also
know about moonlight on the ocean.
Jane’s a very attractive girl, but she
ought to have more sense,” he de
clared. “You probably kissed her
and — ”
“He's never kissed me,” cried Jane.
Alan paused, stymied for a moment.
“Well, that’s of no consequence. Mr.
Trench, I love Jane and I can make
her happy. Won’t you give her the
chance?"
John blew a cloud of smoke and his
eyes followed its spread. Then he said,
slowly, “Didn’t Jane tell you that
we’re not really engaged?”
“John!” she exclaimed.
“Not engaged?” said Alan. "I don’t
understand.”
"Jane and I ’arranged’ an engage
ment for publicity purposes. At the
end of a few weeks, I was to be
publicly jilted.”
“Oh,” said Alan, coloring deeply,
“if that’s the case — ”
"It is the case. Now, as there is no
further need for the engagement, Jane
will release me. How about it, Jane?"
Jane looked over John’s head at an
infinitesimal crack in the wall. “Of
course," she said, and she hoped her
voice sounded cold and remote. "It
was a silly idea and I'm glad we're all
washed up.”
Alan crossed to her side and looked
down at her. "And you’ll marry me,
Janey; we’ll forget this nonsense.”
“Marry you?” she asked. “I don’t
love you, Alan — and I don’t think I
ever did,” she added thoughtfully.
"But, Jane, you said — ”
"Listen, Alan — I don’t care what I
said. I’ve changed my mind. You
should find that easy to understand.
You’ve changed yours once or twice.
I’ll never marry you — never.”
Alan flinched and moved back a
step. John Trench rose and walked
over to where she stood. "Jane,” he
said, “now that our pseudo engage
ment is broken, will you marry me?”
Jane looked into his deep-set eyes.
She liked what she saw there but there
was still a question in her mind that
had to be answered. “Why didn’t you
kiss me last night?” she asked.
"I didn’t want to make it too hard
for myself when you pulled your big,
fine jilt,” he said.
Tht End
The House of Brass
Continued from page six
determined to remember it, and to do
just as he said. After the funeral, and
when I’d paid all expenses, and come
into a sum of thirty-three pounds eight
shillings, which turned out very
handy, I did a good deal of thinking.
It occurred to me that with a tobog
gan on a snow slope of two hundred
yards, and then a precipice of two
thousand feet, it stood to reason that
I should require a parachute.”
“A parachute,” muttered one of us.
“Yes,” said Jorkens. "You see, what
would be the use of a toboggan, when
you had only two hundred yards to go,
and the precipice sheer lor two thou
sand feet? It would be no good without
the parachute.
"It was right in the middle of Asia,
that mountain: north of India, east of
Persia, and southwest ol China. That’s
where it was. And when I got to it,
it was just as the old man said; a
mountain with little villages thou
sands of feet up, and a skull-cap of
snow. I started climbing vei y leisurely,
so as to have plenty of pace left when
the little men came after me; the more
time I had to myself at the top, the
more emeralds I’d get. I took three
days over the climb.
"On the morning of the fourth day
I came to the villages, little houses
with big thatches, a lot of them at the
same level just under the snow-line.
And then I saw the round one-storied
house of brass shining right in the mid
dle of the nearest village, with plenty
of space all around it, and 1 remem
bered my father’s words. I began to
hurry my pace.
But very soon a nom Diew, ana
out they came from their huts and
began to come after me from the
village I had just passed, and two
more villages were doing the same.
Little men in warm coats, carrying
bows and arrows, as far as I could see.
The line came quite slowly, as though
a need for hurrying had never oc
curred to any of them. Rather un
nerving that steady slow pace must
have been, to the men whose plans
were all wrong.
"I had come to the snow before
they left their villages, and even there
I gained on them, though it was
harder going on the snow, and I did
those last few hundred feet in such
good time that I must have had
nearly a quarter of an hour to myself
at the top.
"And there was the little cliff all
right, facing towards the unknown
country, and mottled with emeralds
just as my father had said. Below me
stretched perfect snow, an ideal spot
for tobogganing, but only for two
hundred yards.
“I got to work with my hammer
and chisel at once, choosing the
largest emerald within reach, and
chiselling all around it, flaking the
grey rock away, till I was able to give
a tap that loosened the emerald itself.
Small stones would have come out
much more easily, but the market
price for emeralds the size of the thick
ends of hens’ eggs made it worth the
three or four minutes I spent on each.
Two or three men appeared on the
ridge within ten yards of me, but I
still worked on: I only had to throw
my toboggan down and jump on it;
I’d everything ready. I was working
at my fifth emerald.
“I just got it out and then six of
the men came up and all bowed to
gether. It was time to be off. So I
bowed too, and lifted my toboggan
over my head as I bowed and laid it
down on the snow, watching them all
the time. They all had knives, and
some had bows and arrows, but I fan
cied that, if they started shooting, the
pace of my toboggan would beat them.
And one of them, only two yards from
me, said something about honoring
his village, and I said: ‘No. I’m going
this wav,’ and threw the chisel down
and kept the hammer, and clutched
my parachute against my ribs and
was off.
"It was a perfect surface tor a
toboggan, just that touch of ice that
makes it slip along almost without
leaving a track; the radiant mountain
air rushed into my lungs and sang
screeching past me; there was one
shout from the little men, and then I
came to the edge, and I saw my
toboggan floating with the air of a
tired butterfly, while I dropped like a
stone. I pulled the cord, and then
I felt the parachute tug at my shoul
ders, and soon after that I saw my
toboggan swoop past me. The two
things had worked in admirably to
gether; the toboggan gave me speed
to get away from those men at any
moment I liked, and. a second or so
later it gave me just that clearance
from the precipice without which one
could never have worked a parachute.
"And here I was with five emeralds
in my pocket, the smallest of which
would scarcely have been hidden by a
florin. Did I say six? Well, I didn’t
count the sixth: it was scarcely larger
than a pea. I had other things in my
pockets too. and began to regret that
I had brought so much; the hammer,
for instance, to drive in nails in my
raft; the axe might have done for that,
or a bit of a stone; and I was feeling
much too heavy, in spite of which the
winds that roamed the ravine were
flapping me about like a feather.
"Well, to make a long story short,
I just missed the river and landed
among the rocks; and I got to work at
once on the deodars and made a very
light raft that night, so as to be able
to slip away if those villagers should
find a path down the precipice or work
their way round; but when I found
that they did not come for me I
made the raft stronger and more com
fortable, using the parachute for a
sort of cabin, while its cords came in
very handy to bind the logs. I spent
tour days at that, and kept nice and
warm at night, burning the branches
that weren’t big enough for my raft.
Then I drifted down that unexplored
river for a week, and came to the vil
lages of a different people, and bought
good food from them, and drifted on.
“One foggy night I heard the sound
of ships and the river got hugely wide,
and with dawn I came to the coast.
And three weeks later I reached Lon
don, with thirty thousand pounds
worth of emeralds in my pocket.”
“And you got all that for them?"
asked Terbut.
“I did,” said Jorkens.
“You should be pretty well off, if
you invested it well,” said Terbut.
“Well,” said Jorkens, “I invested
it in a way. You know the way one
does. And a lot of things happened.
I'll tell you about them some day."
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happy to have you back again.
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Mrs. Beach was an angel! She must
be told the truth about John Trench.
Suddenly Jane remembered that her
own telephone was not listed. Her new
fianct would have no idea where to
find her. Probably the best way out
of an awkward situation. Newspapers
had short memories and the whole
episode would be forgotten if she lay
low for a few days.
She wandered around the little
apartment, straightening etchings
that didn’t need straightening. She
sorted out the trifles she had bought
as gifts for friends, tying them with
gay cord. Then she had a leisurely tub.
She saw that it was only one o’clock.
She flung herself on the bed and
tried to sleep. She was wondering if
Alan would call her soon when the
telephone rang But it was not Alan’s
voice. Its timbre evoked a stir of
pleasant memories. Jane felt she had
not recognized before what a very nice
voice it was.
■ "Sherlock had nothing on you,” she
told John.
It was simple, he said. He had
called her employer, Mrs. Beach, and
obtained Jane’s address.
He then suggested that they have
dinner at Voisin’s. Jane said it was
impossible, and then couldn't think of
a single reason why. John said he’d
call for her at seven. Jane said they’d
better drop the whole matter and not
meet again. John said she’d got en
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