MARJORIE WILLIAMSON.
Punctually to time, the girls arrived at the "Metropole," and, picking
up the boys, they drove on to the "Grosvenor" for Goody and his friend.
It was a tight squeeze to find seating room for all, but the Criterion
Theatre was not far away, and Hil laughingly insisted on taking all of
them. Thus, for the third time, the five chief characters of this
veracious history were in each other's company, though on this occasion
four were known to each other, and the fifth a stranger, but knowing
well himself in whose company he was. They were comfortably settled in
their box as the curtain rose, and all eyes were turned to the stage in
eager anticipation of the appearance of the actress who had been so much
talked about. When she did appear, two of the party gave a start; Reg in
wonder where he had seen the face before, and Wyck in astonishment, for
the familiar face and voice recalled old memories.
"I have seen that face somewhere before," said Reg to Hil, "but I can't
think where. The programme styles her 'Mrs. Montague,' but that does not
give me a clue."
"You may have seen her in London," she suggested.
"Wasn't her name Marjorie Williamson?" whispered Mr. Philamore, as he
laid aside the opera-glasses through which he had been gazing intensely.
"That's she; the very same. By Jove, I am glad," added Reg, excitedly.
"Hush," said Hal, for Reg had raised his voice, and unpleasant glances
were cast in the direction of their box.
During the first act, Reg remained so engrossed in his thoughts that he
left the play unheeded. He was only roused from his reverie by the
vociferous applause that brought the actress twice before the curtain.
Her success was now assured, much to his delight.
The boys, accompanied by Goody and Philamore, left for the saloon during
the interval and the girls found themselves alone.
"What do you think of him?" asked Hil.
"I can't say. I don't like red hair," answered May.
"He can't help that. I thought him rather pleasant."
"How strange that Reg should recognise this lady."
"And Mr. Philamore knows her too. He said her name was Marjorie
Williamson."
"Marjorie Williamson! Why, that is the girl he told me about. She was
one of Wyck's victims," said May, in surprise.
"They're coming back," said Hil, as the gentlemen entered the box.
"Too bad of us to go and leave you," observed Philamore, with a smile.
"Oh, we don't mind."
"Did you know Miss Williamson in London?" asked Hil of him.
"Slightly. As much as one knows the leading stars," he replied.
"Was she a star there?"
"Yes, she was rather successful, but I believe she got into some trouble
and had to retire, contrary to the general rule, for it usually adds to
their celebrity."
"What trouble?" asked May, curiously.
"That's more than I can tell. You see we never notice these things in
England, they are every-day occurrences. I don't think I should have
recognised her but for her voice," answered Philamore, indifferently.
"Where did you meet your friend, Mr. Goodchild?" asked Reg, when they
stood outside the box.
"At the hotel. He only arrived from England a few days ago. He seems a
very pleasant young fellow and is well connected at home, knows the
Governor, and moves in good society."
"I don't care about him," said Hal. "I have taken an unreasonable
dislike to him. I have a certain repellent feeling when he speaks to
me."
"It's strange he should know Marjorie Williamson, too," said Reg.
"Oh, I suppose everybody about town, who sees an actress on the stage,
thinks himself entitled to claim acquaintance with her."
"Yes, I suppose so. I must call on her. I wonder where she is staying."
"No idea, but we can soon find out," and walking to one of the
attendants, came back and said: "Petty's Hotel."
"Why that's close to the "Grosvenor." We will call to-morrow. I shall be
awfully glad to see her again."
"And she'll be glad to see you, old chap, I should think."
At the close of the performance, the boys saw the girls to their
carriage and, promising to call on the following day, bade Goody and his
friend good-night, and walked to their hotel.
The boys strolled along in silence, and each guessed that the same thing
occupied their thoughts. At last, Hal said:
"Look here, Reg, ever since I had that dream in which I saw Wyck and
Dick laughing over our failure, I cannot forgive myself for not stopping
at Toowoomba, and seeing Bill Adams, and making sure that Wyck is dead,
for we have only old Brown's word for it, and he is the kind of fellow
that would do anything for money. How do we know his death was not a
put-up job?"
"Quite right, Hal, I think we ought to settle that point at once. If
Wyck is dead, his clothes will still be at Toowoomba; if he is alive,
he will have called for his stick, and we must find him."
"The express leaves at eight to-morrow morning. You can make an excuse
for me to the girls, but let's keep the business to ourselves until it
is settled," said Hal.
"You'll wire if you hear anything?"
"Of course. I don't think I shall, but at any rate we'll settle the
question, and have done with it."
The next morning Hal left for Toowoomba, and at mid-day Reg called at
Petty's Hotel, and sent in his card to Mrs. Montague. He was at once
shown in and met with a hearty reception.
"Mr. Morris," said she, "you see I have fulfilled my promise."
"Yes, and I don't know of anything which has delighted me more. I was
there last night, and never enjoyed a play more."
"I saw you. You were in a box with two ladies and two gentlemen."
"Yes, they were my friends."
Here a gentleman entered the room, and to Reg's surprise Marjorie ran to
him and said:
"Arthur, this is Mr. Morris."
"Morris!" said he. "What! the real Morris? My dear sir, I am delighted
to see you."
"That's my husband," said she, in answer to his look of enquiry, then
added in a sad voice, "poor old Jones died a month before my leaving, he
sent a short message to you,--it was: 'Tell Mr. Morris that he made me
happy.' Poor old chap!"
"I am heartily glad to see that Mrs. Montague took my advice. It would
have been a thousand pities had she buried her talent because of a
scoundrel."
"Have you came across him yet, Mr. Morris?"
"No, not yet," said Reg, slowly, "for months I have been on his tracks,
and the other day he was reported to be drowned, but I can hardly
believe it, so my friend has gone off to find out the truth."
"Who was that red-haired gentleman in your box?"
"His name is Philamore, he knows you."
"Philamore? I don't remember the name, but there was something in his
face which seemed familiar."
"Fancy, my dear, only fancy," said Mr. Montague. "But you, Mr. Morris,
you will join us at lunch. I want to drink your health, for it is to you
I owe my meeting with my wife."
Reg was persuaded to stay, but he did so reluctantly, as he had half
promised to lunch at Blue Gums.
"Will you let me introduce my lady friends to you?" he asked.
"I should be most happy to meet any friends of yours," she answered,
smiling.
"You'll find them true Australian girls, and I venture to say you will
be good friends."
"Well, I shall be at home all this afternoon."
"If I can, then, I'll bring them to you," said Reg, taking his leave,
and setting out at once for Blue Gums. His arrival alone caused some
enquiries.
"Where's Mr. Winter?" asked Hil.
"He's gone to Toowoomba."
"Toowoomba! What for?"
"Well, to tell the truth, we are not satisfied that Wyck is really dead,
and Hal has gone to enquire at the hotel he stopped at and interview
Bill Adams; but mind, to anyone else, he has gone to Albury for a couple
of days."
"I see," said Hil.
"Do you know," asked May, "that Mr. Philamore has lately been in
Queensland?"
"No. Is that so?"
"Well he started telling us a story about camp-life, and suddenly
stopped and, though we both tried to persuade him to continue, he would
not."
"And what do you make of that?"
"Nothing, except it seemed curious, considering he has only just come
out from England."
"I have just left Mrs. Montague. Will you ladies go and call on her? She
expressed a wish to make your acquaintance."
"When?"
"Well, she's at home this afternoon."
"We'd go if we only had an escort."
"Won't I do, Miss Goodchild?"
"If you will honour us," she said, with a mock curtsey.
"And we will both go and put on our brand-new dresses in honour of the
occasion," said Hil, following May from the room.
Reg sat down and fell into a brown study. His lost Amy held the first
place in his thoughts, but unconsciously of late he had found the form
of May Goodchild, not usurping the image of his dead love, but appearing
as it were by her side. He did not know whether to take himself to task
for want of loyalty, but in the midst of his cogitations he was
interrupted by the return of the ladies, costumed in the latest fashion.
"Understand," said Hil, as they walked out to the carriage, "You are to
be our chaperon, and keep us in order."
"Trust me, I'll sing out if I see any lapse," he answered, laughing.
Mrs. Montague and the girls became fast friends from the outset, and
when Reg and her husband left for a smoke they became quite
confidential. She told them all her experiences and how Reg had come to
her rescue.
"You see, here I am with a husband who worships me; a successful career;
my sisters at school and well cared-for, and wherever I go I am so well
received; and all this I owe to Mr. Morris."
"Yes, he is a fine fellow, and had it not been for him I should not have
been here to-day," said May, telling her tale of rescue by the boys.
The girls enjoyed their visit, and had extracted from Mrs. Montague a
promise to make Blue Gums her home for the remainder of her stay. As
the carriage was taking them down Pitt Street, Reg started in surprise
as his eye caught sight of a man crossing the street.
"Joe Brown!" he cried. "That's him for a certainty, in spite of his
store clothes. If you'll excuse me I'll follow him. I'll keep you
informed," he added, as the carriage was stopped, and he raised his hat.
Hastily hurrying in the direction taken by Joe Brown, Reg soon caught
sight of him again. He shadowed him to Market Street, where he entered
one of those cheap restaurants, at which one can get a bed or a
three-course meal for sixpence. Reg sauntered about for fully an hour
before he re-appeared. At last his patience was rewarded. Brown
appeared, and walked in the direction of George Street, and halted at
the corner of a cross-street, and waited as if expecting someone.
Presently a hansom pulled up and Joe stepped in and sat down by the side
of another man, and the cab drove rapidly away.
"The plot thickens," said Reg to himself. "Now, what the devil has he to
do with Joe?" and he called a cab and had himself driven to Blue Gums.
"Well, did you see him?" asked Hil, eagerly.
"Yes, and who do you think picked him up in a cab?"
"Mr. Philamore?"
"Yes, but how did you guess that?" said Reg, in surprise.
"I'll tell you what it is. I fancy that red-headed gentleman either
knows something, or is not exactly what he professes to be."
"We'll wait until we hear from Hal, before doing anything further," said
Reg.
"Yes, it would be just as well. But you will stay for dinner, as Mr.
Goodchild and some Tasmanian friends are coming to-night."
Reg did not refuse, needless to say. On his return to his hotel he found
two telegrams and a letter waiting for him. Opening one of the
telegrams, he read:
"Toowoomba. Wyck called here day before flood. Left for
Sydney.--Hal."
The other read:
"Albany, W.A. Self and wife arrive Adelaide Monday. Wire
address.--Whyte."
The letter contained a cheque for L150, with the photo of Mr. and Mrs.
Montague enclosed, on the back of which was written:--"May God bless and
prosper Reginald Morris is the earnest prayer of the originals!"