Our Lightning Serial.

You MUST Start To-day.




  Synopsis of Previous Chapters.—The Hon. Lord Baldwin Berkeley, who has now established his claim to the coffee-stall pitch in Sloane Square,Sloane Square is a landscaped square on the boundaries of the fashionable London districts of Knightsbridge, Belgravia, and Chelsea, located 2.1 miles (3.4 km) southwest of Charing Cross, in the Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea.
is suddenly asked by a Royal personage to form a Ministry. He decides instead to go to the country, and for that purpose hires a rose-covered cottage off Finsbury Circus.Finsbury Circus is an elliptical square in London and the largest public open space within the City’s boundaries.
It is here that he meets the Hon. Lady Marjorie Stagg-Mantle, who comes to warn him that the Countessa Marie Spaghetti, a cosmopolitan Suffragette, in the power of the Hon. Marquis Luke Lockhart, is conducting a revolutionary campaign against the new Premier’s “Government Monopoly of Hat-Pins” Act. Unless England is to be plunged into civil war the secret of Lockhart’s Hindoo step-brother must be exposed. This task is entrusted to the Hon. Sir Charles Claridge, who finds to his dismay that the Hindoo is none other than Berkeley himself.



The Voice of Marjorie.

Evening fell heavily upon the rose-covered cottage, and the hum of Finsbury Circus sounded faint and fitful. Berkeley’s decision had been made, the letter resigning the Coffee Stall had been posted, and he lit his second-hand calabash pipe with a sense of luxurious relief. . . .

There is little more to tell.

Beyond keeping chickens and being Prime Minister, Lord Baldwin lives in his rose-covered cottage in quietude and peace, happy in the affection of his wife Mrs. Berkeley (née The Hon. Lady Stagg-Mantle).

There is little more to tell.

The Hon. Marquis the Senior Subaltern Luke Lockhart met his deserts by a horrible doom which has been sedulously withheld from Marjorie’s ears. His perfidy to the Congo Nihilists brought its own punishment. He is used as Chief Tester in the Gramophone Record Department of that sinister and ubiquitous secret organisation.

There is little more to tell.

But before we finally leave that happy scene of domestic bliss we must mark in red the day on which, as Baldwin mowed the tennis-lawn one summer evening he was told by nurse that he was a parent of three crowing little ones.

There is little more to tell.

But sometimes of a summer evening, when the Hon. Sir Charles Claridge, whose bankruptcy order has been discharged, comes to talk over the strange events of the varied past and call Henry, James and Algernon “chips of the old block,” a strange look creeps into the eyes of both. They ignore the children’s yells, and say: “Suppose Luke Lockhart should escape!” Well, perhaps he may, and then, who knows, there may be a sequel after all.

There is little more to tell.

But hark! “Baldie, tea’s up.” It is the refined, low, sweet voice of Marjorie.


End of Part I.*



*Editor (hurriedly) to Author: This serial must now stop.

Author (with a sense of injustice rankling in his breast): But I’ve already written the first instalment of Part II. There are fifteen distinct shocks in the first ten lines. It’s far better than Part I.

Editor (grimly): It couldn’t well be worse.

Author: All right. Why don’t you write your serials yourself?

Editor (calmly): I intend to. To-morrow the finest, fiercest serial ever written will appear in these columns entitled, “The Purple Stain.” See full details below.