A LOST WITNESS, OR THE MYSTERY OF LEAH PAGET

Auckland Star, Volume XXVIII, Issue 257, 5 November 1897, Page 6

A LOST WITNESS, OR THE MYSTERY OF LEAH PAGET

By LAWRENCE L. LYNCH, Author of "Shadowed by Three," "A Slender Clue," "Dangerous Ground, "Madeline Payne," "A Mountain Mystery," "The Diamond Coterie," " Romance of a Bomb Thrower," "Out of a Labyrinth."

CHAPTER XVI,

SARA,

Polly Cousin bad meant to arrive at the Paget mansion before Mr Talfourd had taken his departure. But the unexepected difference between Mr Talfourd and Mr Paget had hastened the going of the former, yvho •was already out of the house before Cousin appeared before Mr Paget, whom he found pacing the floor in a manner betokening* perturbation of mind. Perhaps his recent encounter with Mr Talfourd, a foenian worthy of his steel, had served as a sop to his wounded vanity, or possibly he had begun to take a less personal and more pathetic view of the case; to think less of the Paget pride and more of the Paget loss; less of Abner and more of Leah Paget. Be this as it may, it is certain that Polly Cousin met with an almost gracious welcome when he appeared for the second time before Abner Paget. The greeting's were barely over and Cousin was inwardly congratulating himself upon tbe improvement in the bearing of his host when that gentleman touched a bell and said to the servant who appeared with much promptness, 'Ask Mrs Paget if she is able to see—ah—Mr Cousin; or say a messenger from Captain Connors.' Then, turning* towards Cousin, 'I have decided,' he said, 'in fact, it is the advice of her physician, tha I will make Mrs Paget one of our counsels. To know all that has been and that is being* done is, we think, the best relief, yes, the only relief we can as yet offer her. Is there any objection to this on your part?'

'None whatever,' Cousin answered composedly. 'I think it an excellent idea.'

They waited in silence for a moment when the door slowly opened, stopped half way, with the hand of the footman visible upon the knob, and a slow, soft, and pathetically sweet voice spoke outside: 'Is Mr Paget in his library, Henry? May I see him just for a moment?' Before Henry could frame a reply Abnet Paget was at the door. 'Sara—Mrs Volney!' he exclaimed, with more eagerness than might have been expected from him. 'You certainly my come. in. Have you seen Mrs Paget?' He swung the door open and then Polly Cousin was conscious of blushing violently, as, glancing* up, he encountered the -gaze of a pair of eyes —whether brown or blue or grey he could not have told for days afterdeep, luminous eyes; the strangest eyes, the saddest eyes, the loveliest eyes, he thought, his own had ever rested upon

These marvellous eyes were set in a pale exquisite face; a face all lily, with no hint of rose except in the thin delicately curved lips; a Madonna face, so he named it to himself, framed in a mass of rippling* palegold hair. What a vision it was—the tall, lithe, rounded figure in the flowing, fleecy black garments; the grace of each movement ! And then the voice: soft, slow, SAA-eet, pathetic; and over all, through all, the sympathy, the pity, tbe pathos, that strange serenity never ruffled, the low cadences never raised or roughened.

As they stood face to face in the centre of the stately library, the stiff old aristocrat unbending* even toward ber, the beautiful woman with her hand in bis, Cousin for one dazed moment saw clearly AA-hat was meant by the hitherto meaning-less phrases 'old family,' and 'blue blood.' And he did mental homage.

'I went to Mrs Pag-et's door,' the gentle voice began. 'She is too ill, the poor mother. She cannot come doAvn. Mr Paget, is there any news?' No conventional words of sympathy —only the little white band resting in bis; only tbe sAveet indescribable lowering of her always soft tones as she spoke the last Avords; only the sad questioning eyes upraised to bis face.

Abner Paget gently released tbe dainty hand and drew forward a chair, in which he placed her with grave coutesy

'No,' he said, 'there is no news.' 'Ah,' she breatht*d softly, 'it is so sorrowful. I have just heard of it. I came home to-day.' She clasped her hands in her lap and looked up into his face, and then slowly turned her mild gaze upon Cousin. Her host noted the glance. 'We have begun a thorough search,' he said. 'The detectives are at work, and this—' He hesitated, evidently at a loss as to how he should characterise Cousin, who sat before them both like a graven image, his eyes riveted upon the hem of the lady's black robe.

Instantly she came to tbe rescue. 'The young man is a detective?' Paget nodded.

'Ah.' She bowed to Cousin and let her eyes rest upon his face with a glow of kindly interest. 'Then I am in the way, perhaps?' She made a slight movement, but did not rise. Instead she turned her eyes once more upon Mr Paget. 'Is there anything I may do?' Mr Paget shook his head.

She seemed to be thinking. Then she arose and came close to him. 'If there is anything that I may know —* she said plaintively. 'I am very anxious, very unhappy, about this.' She put out ber hand again. 'Wait,' Mr Paget said and turned toward Cousin. 'I was saying, Mr Cousin, that I Avisbed my wife to be present at our interviews. And this lady, Mrs Volney, is an intimate family friend. Is there any reason whA* she should not remain?'

Percy Cousin bad arisen when the name of the lady Avas spoken, and she had recognised the movement by a second inclination of ber dainty head, while her lovely pathetic eyes rested gravely upon his face. She did not withdraw her gaze when Mr Pajret paused nor Avhile Cousin made answer:

'Tha. rests with you, Mr. Paget. Upon my part I see no objection. If the lady is a friend of your daughter's she may, perhaps, aid us by some suggestion.' •Oh,' sighed Sara Volney, 'if I could.'

She arose and seated herself in a low ottoman midway between the places occupied by the two men. She listened very quietly, sitting as noiseless as the statue behind her, while Cousin, in brief detail, ran over the history of the movements of the officer during the past twenty-four hours. He was conscious while he addressed himself to Mr Paget that the lady's eyes were riveted upon his face. Involuntarily, as he ceased speaking-, he turned and met her glance. There vvas a moment of silence. A long sigh from Mrs Volney broke the stillness.

'Then nothing has been accomplished,' she asked sadly, 'with so many keen hunters, so many able detectives and police? And such a highly esteemed Chief at the head of the .search. How does it look to you, sir? Is it not disheartening?' 'It would be,' he replied, 'if tbe search had started thirty-six days ago instead of about that many hours.'

'Oh,' she sighed again, and turned her pathetic eyes upon Mr Paget. We* think now,' went on Cousin, feeling a little inward surprise at his recovered self-possession, 'having exhausted all the ordinary methods of inquiry, that it is time to organise a systematic search in new lines of inquiry.. I have here, Mr Paget, a list of questions to which I hope you will give most direct answers possible. Captain Connors feels that the case is a serious one, and there will be no time lost and no ground overlooked by us if we have from you all the information you can give, or put us in the way of obtaining' from other sources.'

'Eh!' ejaculated Mr Paget, wrinkling* his brows. 'Well, young* man, go on. I'll try to folloAv.'

Cousin turned to Mrs Volney. She was leaning1 slightly forward. Her clear pale face, rendered almost statue-like by its framing* of deadblack crape, was turned fully upon him. She bad drawn off her gloves, and her small ring-less hands were clasped to gether in her lap, holding between them a fold of her sable drapery. As he looked she did not withdraw her gaze, but let her eyes meet his and rest upon them, full of Avist fulness.

Again the silence was unbroken, Avhile Cousin drew irom his pocket a small memorandum book and a pencil. He was about to make use of Nickerson's 'theories.'