"We shall have to make another match to settle the question," said Mr. "I'm willing," laughed Alan, "but give me time. I must go back at once; there's some tough work to be done before long." "When you like," replied Mr. Hallam. "I am not going back to Australia at present. I have no wish to be sent to the bottom of the sea." Alan said good-bye to Eve at The Forest. Before leaving for London he saw Duncan Fraser. Everything was going well, no cause for anxiety, and the manager spoke hopefully of the future. Alan was surprised when he heard of Jane Thrush's marriage and rated Tom remonstrated in a sullen way, saying he thought it a good match for his daughter. "You'll find out it is not," said Alan sharply. "The man is probably in the pay of the enemy, and will be laid by the heels before long; then she will come back to you and you'll be glad to have her." Alan suspected Tom had been bribed by Meason; he knew his fondness for money but did not question him on this subject. Tom Thrush thought over what Alan said. It caused him some uneasiness. He had a great respect for him and his opinions and knew he would not make an assertion without good grounds for doing so. Carl Meason and his wife arrived at a small resort on the East Coast and stayed at an hotel. She wondered why he came here; there was not much to see, it was dull. Once she had been to Scarboro' and enjoyed the brief stay, but H—— was a different place. Meason left her alone a good deal. The excuse was he had work to do; he did not explain what it was. After a week in Meason's company Jane already began to repent her hurried marriage. Carl was rough; some of the veneer wore off rapidly. He gave her money and told her to amuse herself, but there was little chance of that in such a place. "Why don't you take me with you? I'd like to see the country," said "Can't be done, my dear; not yet, at least. Wait a week or two and I may be able to do so," he replied. "What are you so very busy about?" she asked. He declined to gratify her curiosity and said a wife ought to trust her husband; to which she responded that he didn't seem to trust her. "Perhaps you'd rather go back to your father?" he sneered. "You are unkind; you know I would not, but I think you might be with me more; it's lonely here," she said with tears in her eyes. He kissed her, talked soothingly, and she was pacified. When alone she wondered what he was about. She thought the proprietor of the hotel and others regarded him with suspicion; it made her uneasy; she began to consider what Abel Head and others had said about him at Little Trent. Already Zeppelin raids had been made on the coast, also S.E. counties, but Jane paid little heed to them. She looked at the pictures but they gave little information. Carl came back very late, or rather early in the morning; she had gone to bed in a depressed state. What kept him out until this hour? It was three o'clock when he came into the room. She sat up in bed, the light was burning, and looked at him half frightened. "I thought you were never coming," she said. "Where have you been?" He locked the door, then sank into a chair exhausted. "I'm tired out," he said. "Where have you been?" she asked again. "I went to ——; the car broke down; I had to have it repaired. It's all right now; I'll take you out to-morrow, Jane," he said. This pacified her, but as she looked at him she fancied she detected signs of fear in his face; there was a furtive, hunted look about him. There was startling news in the papers next morning. A Zeppelin raid on the Norfolk coast was reported. Several people were killed and injured. There was much excitement in the hotel; nothing else was talked about, and Carl Meason was regarded with curiosity. It was known he had been out in his motor until the early hours of the morning—perhaps he had seen the Zeppelins. Questions were put to him. He replied that he saw nothing of them; his car broke down and it was a long time before he got it repaired. He was miles away in a lonely part of the country when it happened; fortunately he knew all about cars and the works; it was a great advantage to put your car right when it went wrong. He spoke freely, courting questions, made comments on the raid. He had recovered his self-possession during the few hours' rest and was willing to meet all comers. Jane was packing in her room when he went downstairs; he told her they would leave in the afternoon. After all it was a dull place for her and another part of the country would suit her best, or would she prefer to go to London for a few days? She said she would love to see London, she had never been there; it must be a grand place. He promised to consider it over and left her in the room. Carl went out to examine his car; he was very particular about it. "Nobody's been meddling," he thought; "it's just as I brought it in. It was a deuce of a run, exciting while it lasted. I don't think anybody spotted me." When Jane reached the foot of the stairs she heard people talking in the private bar. There were three or four of them, she concluded, but the door was almost closed and she could not see inside. One voice she recognized as the landlord's. The mention of her husband's name caused her to stand still and listen. The men were discussing the raid, from which she gathered that it was supposed the Zeppelins were guided by a motor car with a powerful light. Strong remarks were passed and hopes expressed that the scoundrel would be caught. It was surmised he was in the pay of the Huns—a spy—and he deserved shooting. "He's a mysterious fellow," said the landlord, alluding to Carl Meason. "He was out in his motor half the night, came home between two and three. I'd like to know where he went; if I had something definite to go on I'd give warning to the police." "You'd better do that in any case," said one of the men. "You'll be on the safe side then." "That's all right," said the landlord, "but I might get into trouble if there's nothing wrong with him." "Risk it, Frank; it's worth it. There's no end of these spies about, and the sooner they're stopped the better." "I'll think it over—if he's a spy I'm sorry for his wife. She's a pretty quiet little woman, far too good for him." Jane heard this conversation; she saw the door move and stepped into the hall. It was the landlord looked out and wished her good-day. "I have been packing," she said, with a faint attempt at a smile. "You are leaving?" he asked. "I believe so. My husband talks about going this afternoon," she replied. "He has not said anything to me at present. He's outside looking over his motor; he had a breakdown yesterday—lucky he could put it right. He was a long way from a town—Norwich would probably be the nearest," said Frank Spatts, the landlord. Jane looked at him inquiringly. Carl told her he had the car repaired at ——. This was another tale. "Yes, I believe he had a breakdown," she said hesitatingly. "You've heard of the Zeppelin raid last night? Some damage was done on the Coast, a cowardly thing killing innocent people, women and children." "Oh, I am sorry!" exclaimed Jane. "It is terrible. They must have been near here. Perhaps that is why my husband is leaving." |