LADY TURPIN.

Auckland Star, Volume XXVII, Issue 56, 7 March 1896, Page 1 (Supplement)

LADY TURPIN.

BT SSNBY HEBMAN.

. h( , r of • Eagle Joe, 1 ' Scarlet Fortune,' * .Hi. etc., and part author of bho piay. • rho silver Kins-'

CHAPTER XXI,

, j TA KE MY OWN COURSE.'

• cried Endalie, as eha rushed into lAt"ooffl, <he ia Bafe !Ho managed to ""'„! biooßeif, unobserved in the growing '*'° eSBj jnto the balcony of the next '"is. Se's «&*«• Lefl u8 fly ab onca-' ' '""flfe can't) swing ourselves from bal■l Bndalie,' said Mrs Hill, calmly. fVmiebb, tor you are young and active, '\\\oan old woman, and I'd juM> break sck and as for flying, you heard what"'"•dabout Bagater. It's us that Bagster's 18 for and the fact of his having seen K!berawill burry our arreßbl B > T this • Bender will have been informed of bis X It's only aqueßtion of hours, or per- ■ minutes, Endalie, and if ib should W 8 Q(i that they're merely watching us, "ahab the—murder in the Woll Houbo f,'t got wind, to-morrow we may march "fboldlyi draw your money oub of the it and get clean off.' 'Van*/said Endalie wearily, 'I'm tired .(.■(je-and-seek. The net is closing round I it My only hope,' she added, clutchtsta straw, 'my only hope ia in Gerald. Lo has been murder done. My lather's ■ the hand that did it, and you and i are li accomplices. There's bub one thing left "bo do. I must release Gerald. 1 'iße'll release himself, my dear, 'as soon llfffl 're arrested, never fear. 1 ifjo. aiintl» I know Gerald. Gerald will find by me t0 b^e 'aßb' Gerald's an honest 1 and loves the wretch who caused hia Jtior'a death, and brought all this miaery hios and hia. I must'send for him.' 'yoa would dare T began the elder 'Dare? I would dare anything and everyftine. ■ There's nothing I would not dare ) or the man I love, bub you needn't fear. rndismiss Gerald, and no word from me ilillmake him suspect oar dreadful secreb, ficin thin moment I take my own course. feu are free to go your own way, aunb, and Idon'l) taunt you with what you have Srobght me to, for you have been good to jjaccording to your lights Bub from this nomenblfighbfor my own hand. Justice ibalinoo lay its finger upon me !' she added ydebermined tone. "That1* right, dear. You're a good ducked one. I always said you were. Stick to that), Endalie, and keep a stiff

ipperlip.' 'I'm going to wire for Gerald at once,

liiii Endalie. 'Wait till the morning, child; wait till iSjmorning !' cried the elder woman. Wait lillvteVe secured the money. Then go your wo way and take your chance. We'llbe ipair'.of lucky women, Endalie, if we're Mtpabbed this very night. Whab's that?' to cried, as she clutched the back of her dair. 'What's that?' And ah the same momenb a loud knock mounded at the door of the flat. Bat Endalio Verpoint had seated herself jtier davenport, and was already filling in itolegram form, which sho addressed to Gerald at his club, where ahe knew he waa -fining. It was Bhorb, and ran as follows :

'Coma to meat onco.—B.'

Mrs Hill, hearing the knock, rushed from Seroom ; for old ladies have always suffitint vanity lefb in them not to care to Bsive lieitors when they are not fit to be

sen. There waß a tap ab the door, which was sitiously openeq by Ellen. •Slise Theveney, miaa, and Mr Christopher (itKB. Are you afc home ?' 'SWff fehem i», Ellen,' aaid Endalie, with ifel].&ffected composure. 'My dear Winnie,' she said, as Gerald's lifter, followed by Mr Churn, entered; 'to is too kind of you. 1 'Well, we bad to come, dearQßb. _ We've Mine to congratulate you. Gerald is beside himself with joy. We met him just now, quite by chance, and he toki me everything. Do yon know that you two have been dreadfully «ly, Endalie? I believe this Paris businoaa has been arranged on purpose by the artful Gerald.' 'And Winnie and I, you see, have pot to uiit,'said Christopher Churn, 'Winnie fflay like waiting. She pretends she does ; though between ourselves, I don't believe to,' said Churn with a jolly laugh. 'Stunnine flat, this of yours,' be addod, carefully Hiurning.bia hands bo bis pocketß, after he bid shaken hands with Endalie.

'Where'a-bhe old.lady 2' he continued. 1 Christopher* youlxe dreadful. cried Winnie. ' Mrs Hill isn't so very old thab yon should speak of her in bhab disrespectfolway. You'll never be a cultured person, Christopher. 1 'My dear Winnie, I don'b wanb to baa (flltnred person,' said the gentleman. 'There's nothing morbid aboub me. If I were a cultured person, I should admire Ibo ladies with the red hair, the high cheek-bones, th« green complexions, the orahensile toes, and the figures like sacks :ied round with bits of rope. Your angelic ftyle of beauty wouldn't have appealed bo me in the least. I'd have gone in for bone.'

'Don'b be horrid, Kit,' said Winnie: 'Bub I should, you know, and 1 shouldn't tomnchas look at you ; so perhaps, after all, it's lucky for you that I'm nob a cultured person.'

'And so you're bo be married in a holemdcorner way,' said Winnie to Endalie. 'It's positively disgraceful and shameful. It tad been a regular compact between me iwd Gerald, that as our marriage was put "5 by poor papa's death, our weddings Should tiike place on the same day. at old Windsor Church, and now you've taken ftis most unfair advantage.' 'Yes, Gerald's a lucky dog,' aaid Kit Churn.. • Why the doose couldn'b I have a Parisian eppoinbmenfc ?' 'Will they never go?' eaid Endalie to towlf.

Bub Cham and Winnio didn'b seem to

taanifeafc the slightest intention of going. 'Where's Mrs Hill?' said Churn, genially, mr some ten minutes of desultory con-

fersation. 'Aunt has nob been very well to-day. m had a rather severe headache, and is I'm down,' replied Bndalie. At that moment the door opened and Mrs a'» entered. "was saying you had heen a little upseb, ™it.' said the ingenuous Endalie, * and 'Iling M r Churn that you were lying «wn; You seem to be almost youreelf 'gain now.' % Hill, who had bathed her eye* and J e patrod the ravage* which her recent tears '>aeaa?ed to her complexion, laughed with *«Bed jjaiety. I believe thab those tradespeople will bo of my death,' she said. ' What '?» the dressmaker, and Madame Horfiense and the man from Redfern's, JIJ too excitement of theic all declaring: 'a one accord that ib was impossible to 'ready in time, they've very nearly driven jj 19mad,'said Mrs Hill. • Poor Ellen has »ndVk Unni* X t0 the door evßry half-minuto« lett c avo been kelegrama -to send and ~■7 to write, and we've had a most Dta'S* day» and I>m thoroughly upset and »'aMpub. anc j fcnen thera Wftß (jhe inter.w.w!fch Gerald in the morning and busik."B^*. and I've had my lawyer here for onuv, ftn hour- Oh ' Mr Cfaurn !ib ian' b »i.h a twenfcy times today that I have ia" . W6re tt Man- rm Played ont' Mr Tto *he a^ded, Binking into a chair. *ithPrßtby we" Play°d oub,' she continued. ( i jli * "sailing glance at Endalie. B u; f aa »«_ rightly interpreted the look, bo Sollvi Forgoodneßß'eakeget ridof bheß

people aa soon as possible.' have very good hope indeed that the receivera will be compelled bo disgorge their plunder. Pray pardon me, Rlias Verpoint liub_ a girl cannob very well bake her sisber-in-law, who comes to congratulate u 1" °£ approaching marriage, by the shoulders and unceremoniously pub bar out oi the room. •

And then there came another knock, a hurried and impulsive knock, which caused Mrs Hill'b cheek* to blanch. 'That's Gerald !' cried Winnie and ftnaahe in one breath.

CHAPTER XXII

*HS THAT IS WITHOUT SIN ' The door of Mra Hill's drawing-room in Harnewood Gardens, in which we left the party assambled, wan opened by her cook. •Please, ma'am. Sir Gerald Theveuey, 1 she said, as she ushered him into the room.

The facb is. that jusb as rats are said to quib a sinking Bhip, so the smarb parlourmaid, Ellen, who was, ac we know, a minor confederate of Mrs Hill's and Endalie'e, had prudently fled. Whether she had been warned by Roan thab something very serious was abotib to happen, or whether she had become aware of. the presence on the premises of Mr Bagster, it is impossible to cay, but wibh the assistance of the cook she had quietly taken her departure, discreetly quibting the fortress when she had the opportunity, and carrying with her her military chest, thab is to cay, her box.

• What's wrong, Endalie ?' cried Gerald, as he entered with a happy smile upon his face. ' The cook seemed bo be very strange and you're all aseembled hero just, as people do in the last act of a fivo-acb comedy.' 'Gerald,1 said Endalie solemnly, 'I sent for you because I wanb to claim a wbman'a privilege. I wanb to change my mind. I have been thinking things over, Gerald, and I'm sure, dear, that I am nob fcho woman to make you happy. Whab I have to say, I say here before your sister and Mr Churn, because ib baa bo be said, and I Bay. it thab afterwards there may be no mistake, no misunderstanding. Gerald, when you. asked me bo be your wife, you looked on mo as a good and honeab girl. I have to say ib, Gerald, and ib racks my heart) to do so, bub I am not the good and honest girl you bhooghb me, Sir Gerald Theveney.'

' Don'b, don'b say the words, Endalie!' cried bhe poor young fellow. ' Not even from your lips will I listen to such words as these. Ycu not a good and honest girl, Endalie 1 I have looked into your dear eyes too often, and have read nothing there bub love and truth and honesty. Don'b play with me, Endalie; don'b torture me unnecessarily ! If ever there was a true and honesb girl in this world, ib ia you. If ever there waa a good girl, ib is you. Who bub you, Endalie, placed as I was a few short weeka ago, would have come to my help as you did, noble and generouß girl thab you are? You not good and honest ? No, I will not believe it, even from your own lip*!' • Gerald;' eaid the girl very calmly, • you are blinded by the glamour of your love for me. You have placed me on a pedestal as an idol and worshipped me. Could you bub know me as I am, and I trust you may never know me as I am, you would burn from ma with horror. Believe me, I am neither good nor honest, and I will tell you more. My father, Sir Gerald Theveney, my father ib a convicted thief. Now, Gerald, the truth is out. Your father's son can never marry with the daughter of a thief. Must I bell you more ?'

•Dear Sir Gerald,' criod Mrs Hill, rieing hastily,''Endalie is upset and nob herself. The excitement of the day has been too mu.ch for her. Can't you see, Gerald,' she added, in a lower tone, ' that the girl's hysterical ? She'll be herself again in the morning. Leavß us now, and you can tell tho nearest doctot to call in as you paea, and, so do ma a. favour. She wa.3 very fond of Ellen, you kitpw, who was an old family servant, and she, after a trifling unpleasantness, has loft us a little suddenly. But a night's rest and a calming draughb will make Endalie a differonb girl.' •I see, I see, dear Mrs Hill !' cried the poor young fellow, gazing anxiously at his affianced wife. 'Dear Endalie,'■ he said, • we'll leave yon now. Don't think me unkind in hurrying away, but I left my guests ab the club to "come here, and I mustn'b seem rude to them,' cried the young fellow, makiug the lame&b of all possible excuses. 'No, Gerald,' said Endalie. 'I am nob ill. JMy pulee beats calmly, but you numb nob leave this place till you have given mo back my promiso. lam no fife wife for you, as I have told you. lam not a good or a honest gir.l. My father is a thief, Gerald, perhaps worse, and lives. My mother died yearg ago of drink. I never knew her,' the girl added withji sigh. 1 Endalie,' B»id the young fellow affectionately, . taking the little hand, which he found cold as any stone, in his, 1 when you deliberately tell me this dreadful tale, as it seems you do, I muab believo ib. What are your parents to me, dear? Wbab you have said here, in this room, you said because you were the good and honest girl I thought you, because you didn't care to have a secreb from the man you loved, and no one knows our secret,' he added affectionately, ' bub Winnie here, and shea my sister and will be yours, Endalie, and Kit Churn, who's to be her husband, will nob blab. Oh, bhere's a skeleton in every cupboard !' cried the poor young fellow, who was now as pale as ashes, wibh a hollow laugh. 'And you did well to tell me, Endalie. You did well to tell me, love. We two need never, have any secrets from each other, dear.' ' Gerald,' said En ialie in measured tones, • you are too good to me. I don't deserve such generosity as youra; buc when I tell you, in your siebera'n presence, as I have to tell you now. that I am neither good nor honest, you can believe ma, Gerald.' _ And then Sir Gerald Theveney buried his face in his handa and wept aloud. •Endalie,' he said, and there was a fierce look in his hooesfe eves, • who is the man? And then he^eized her wriat, and repeated his question,— •Who is the man, I say?' 'My puniehmonb is greater than I can bear No, Gerald dear,' she criod, 'not that! Nob that! Oh no,' she added, &« she shivered in horroi, 'no, I have not fallen yeb so low as chat. 'No man ' ahe added proudly, * not even you. Gerald, can accuse me of that, but the time has come when you must know tho truth.' The confession which was upon Endalie s lips was never uttered, for at that moment Mr Detective-Inspector Bender entered unannounced. ♦Good evening, ladies. Pray excuee my sudden presence, bub the matter's urgent;. I am.here on businea/. There ha« been a dreadful tragedy enacted in your house in Guunersbury, Mrs Hill.' ' A tragedy, Mr Bender ?' said the old lady in "her loffiiesO society tone. ' A tragedy ! I hope you are not al*rm>ng us needleMlr- My niece. Mr Bender, ia not herself to-night. Sir Gerald was abont to be so ia to summon a doctor, it you have "anything painful to communicate, perhaps you would not mind accompanying me to the dining-room. I'd rather hear what you have bo flay bhere, Mr Bender, eaid Mrs Hill with intention. 'Ib cannob concern Miss Verpoint.' •What I have gob to say does concern Miss Vorpoiofc a good deal,' said Bender, •and I ana very glad to see Mias Theveney, here, and Mr Churn, for I hava good newa for Miaa Theveney. Till now. Mi«s Theveney,' ho said, addressing her, 'bhe thief who stole your property has elaejed me. 1 have not arrested thab thief yet, bnt 1 snail do bo in the coane of bhe evening.' • And do you think there is any hope of getting back my jewellery 2' cried VV lijnie TbeVenay excitedly. • Yes, I thiok'lmfty almoat even promise

thab, Miss Theveney,' said Bender. 'I for thia intrusion, bub I had to'see Mrs Hill officially.' 'Get rid of these people,1 he added in a whisper, «and I'll make ib as eaßy for her as I can.'

Dobecbive-Inspecbor Bender, though he was on duty, remembered that he had a hearb, and that, when he had looked upon Endalie Verpoinb merely as a wealbhy young lady of prepossessing appearance, he had become enamoured of her personal charms, and wat not indifferenb to her supposed wealth. So for her sake he was ready to forego bhe pleasure so dear to every police officer of making bhe arresb of Mrs Hill in a sensational manner.

ITh 6 facb ia. Sir Gerald,' eaid Mr Bender, 'that our friend, Mr Sanscrome, has come to a dreadful end. He unfortunately has attempted to solve the mystery of the burglary ab bhe. Rook's Nesb and he has been murdered. He was foully done bo death by bhe man who committed the burglaries in the Thames Valley, bub we've got the man, and we shall bang him.' When Mr Bender thus announced bhab Roan had been taken and his probable fabe, Endalie Verpoinb left Gerald Tbeveney'B side and sank into a chair.'

She suddenly drew a handkerchief from her pocket, in which she buried her face. Then ehe threw her head back for an instanb and returned the handkerchief bo her pockeb.

• And do you mean to tell us thab poor Sanacrome was really murdered, Mr Bender V said Churn, excitedly. • Yes, there is nob a doubt of it. He was foully done to deuth after a struggle,' rejoined Bender.

• And the poor fellow lost hit life in try ing bo geb back my jewels !' cried Winnie. 'Oh, Mr Bender, io i 8 boo dreadful ?'

And then fragile libble Winnie burst into tears.

1 He losb his life, Miss Tbeveney,' said Bender with a touch of scorn, * because he wag one of those men who couldn't mind bis own business. His murderer was here I nob an hour ago, and I arrested him as he was coming out of the flat nexfe door. The fact is, he ran righb into my arms. Fortune was against him, you see. Of course,' he added, ' we were bound to have gob him sooner or later. But I waa coming here on a professional errand, and to it chanced.' 'Coming here on a professional errand?' said Churn. • Oh, you were following up your murderer, I suppose?' ' Yes, thab was it, Mr Cham,' replied Bender, ' and I had to come to make an arrest). There's no use mincing matters. Your friend, Mrs Hill, is in a position to ! give you some information about tho missing jewellery. The tact is, I have come to take her.' 'To bake Mrs Hill V cried Gerald. • Are you mad, man ?' ' No, Gerald,' eaid Endalie Verpoint, in a hollow tone. 'Mr Bender hae, as he told you, come here to-day on duty. The man he has arrested ib my father. It wan no murder that waa dono ab the Weil Houee. There was a struggle. The two men in the course of it fell down the well. Bub Mr Bender has nob ye* arrested the thief who etole your sister's jewels, The wretched man who brought Mr Sanscrome to an untimely end was not the thief. I told you, Gerald, that I was neither good nor honest. I was the thief. Don'b interrupt mo, for I must tell my miserable tale bo the man I love beab in all the world. That is part of my punishment, knowing thab I have loab his love, and that I can never even dare to R.ik for his forgiveness, being whab I am. My fortune, God forgive me, was obtained by crime. Disguised and unsuspected, I committed the Thames Valley burglaries, find I and my accomplices stole your sister's jewels, Gerald.' As she spoke the words, her voice sank well nigh into a hollow whiapor.

' You mush be indeed triad, Endalie,' cried Gerald Theveney, 'to fell ua this monstrous story !'

•No. not mad, Gerald,' shef wentr on in the came dreadful monotone, 'nob mad, bub dying. Dying before the eyes of bhe man I love. God bless you, Gerald. Your poor father's death lies at my door. God knows I'm weary of bhe world and glad bo leave it. Gerald,'she eaid, 'Gerald!'

And then ebe stretched oub her arms to him appealingly, gave bim one look of love from her dying eyes, and fell dead in a heap upon the floor. 1 She's dead 1' cried Gerald Theveney, * dead I' as he sprang forward, and clasping the lifeless body of Endalie Verpoint in his artni", laid it reverently upon ths couch.

' Martha Hodges, alias Hill, you are my prisoner,' said Detective Inspector Bender, touching that lady on the arm. And so ended bhe history of Endalia Verpoinb, the daughter of Mike Roan, the cracksman, whose name will be handed down among bhe traditions of the nefarious elapses as Lady Turpin. There is little more to tell. To the great disappointment of Mr Debecbire-Inspector Bonder, Mike Roan died in prison from erysipelas which followed upon bhe injury bo his arm.

When the news of his daughter's death was communicated to him, the old man's remark was, when he heard thab she had taken poison— ' Ah, she was a rare good plucked 'un, she was. It runs in the blood.'

The old rascal never spoke again, and succeeded in cheating justice. Mrs Hill received a sentence of ten years' penal servitude, which she richly deserved. She is now * doing time,' and is a good conduct woman at B Prison. The chaplain looks upon her as a reformed character. Leb us charitably hope that the chaplain is righb. The greater portion of fehe jewellery stolen from the Rook's Nest wa* recovered through the a-ttnleness of Mr Detective Inspector Bender, who managed to make tlio house of Moreoni Raccolrii disgorge. Ha was complimented by his official chiefs on his wonderiul sagacity in discovering the secret of tho Thames Valley burglaries, and wan promoted on the strength of ib. Mr Christopher Churn and his young wife occupy the Kook'e Neat and Sir Gerald Thevenev, its owner, after a much needed voyage round the world to recruit his health, hus settled down in Paris, and they say that he never thinks aboub anything bub business. Bub we know, reader, bhab the young fellow's mind often dwells fondly on the memory of poor Endalie Verpoint, whoae body, aa custom ordains, baa been buried in the unconsocrabed portion of Kensal Green Cemetery, and over whose grave lies a simple slab of white marble placed there by Sir Gerald Theveney. . E.V. 'He that, is without sin among yon, let him first cast a stone at her.' [THE END.]