& LOST WITNESS.

Auckland Star, Volume XXVIII, Issue 275, 26 November 1897, Page 6

& LOST WITNESS.

THE MYSTERY OF LEAH PAGE!

By LAWRENCE L. LYNCH, Author of "Shadowed by Three," "A Slender Clue," "Dangerous Ground,' "Madeline Payne, :J "A Mountain Mystery," "The Diamond Coterie," " Romance of a JBomb Thro Aver," "Out of a Labyrinth." CHAPTER XXXIV. A LETTER AND A FACE. The dead woman lay with her face tothe wall. One hand hung- loosely at her side, the oth -r was lightly resting upon her breast, the fingers intertwined with a knot of ribbon that decorated her gown. The attitude was most natural —was that of perfect repose, and yet There was a smothered exclamation from the lips of Frederick Quinlan, and he pressed forward and bent for a moment low over the inanimate form. When lie turned away it was to face Ferrars, and for an instant the eyes of the two met and held each other. Then they moved back, and Dr. Grove knelt beside the body .touched the cold hand, and peered into the pallid face. 'Useless,' he said, and turned away. 'She has been dead for hours, like the Other.' When they returned to the inner room, the Chief drew Ferrars aside. 'This is going to be a tough case,' he said, in a low tone. 'And, since the Paget affair is at an end, may I count on you?' Ferrars considered for a moment, and then he answered: 'Wait. I'll stay with you through the investigation, or until we see •what it's coming to. May I make a suggestion?' 'A dozen, if you like.' 'These rooms had better be thoroughly overlooked —without the aid of that young man there.' 'I agree with you,' said the Chief. 'Will you assist? I do not quite see my way. I ' 'Captain Connors'—it was the voice of Quinlan speaking at his elbow — 'may I say a word to you?' The Chief nodded. Quinlan was still very pale, but he had regained his self-possession. 'I perfectly realise my position,' he said, making his words quite audible to all in the room. 'I have been the friend of this dead girl—almost her only friend, certainly her nearest in this city. I was the last to see her alive, except, of course, the assassin.' 'Take care, sir,' broke in the Chief; 'you are not required to tell us ' Quinlan interrupted him by a gesture.

'Pardon me, T know what T am saying, as you will understand when I explain myself. I was the one to find this—this horror—the first on the scene. I suppose you will want to detain me. 1 must be in your eyes an object of suspicion, at least. If you will depiitise Dr. Grove here to take me in charge, I will remain wherever you may choose to put me, until you have completed your investigation. V suppose that is the first thing-, and I suppose you count time as valuable.' The Chief and Ferrars exchanged glances. The latter nodded almost imperceptibly. • 'Perhaps that will be best,' said the Chief, and then he turned his eyes upon Dr. Grove. The latter nodded and seated himself in the nearest chair. Quinlan placed himself in another close at hand, but further from the ante-room than was that occupied by the gaoler pro tern. Without another word Captain Connors lifted the portiere that separated them from the boudoir, and in a moTnent he was standing once more with Ferrars beside him, upon the scene of the death struggle, and in the presence of death. Scarcely a word was spoken as they traversed the two rooms, noting the blood stains all about, and the disorder, which seemed to have had its beginning in the inner room, and to have culminated there ibefore the blood-drenched cushions.

As he stepped slowly and cautiously about, Ferrars bent suddenly and put his hand upon something gleaming ■white that was half concealed by a torn-down drapery near the dressingroom, door. It was a statuette of clearest marble, the exquisite counterpart of Power's Greek Slave, and across its whiteness, marring the pure outlines of the delicate body ■which it almost girdled, was the print of a slender hand outlined in blood.

'Ah,' whispered Ferrars, 'that is something-. Loolc at those fingermarks and then at the hand yonder. 7

Captain Connors knelt above the little statuette and scanned it carefully. Then, while Ferrars passed on into the dressing-room, he went back to the couch and knelt again beside jthe body of Hortense Novalis. In the dressing-room the disorder rwas not so marked, nor so ghastly with signs of blood. The bed had not been occupied, but it bore the imprint of a human form, as if someone had thrown himself hastily down upon it for a moment; and Ferrars was .quick to notice that about the head ?the signs of disarrangement were more marked. He stepped to the side of the bed and looked down at it, shifted his position, and looked again.

Thus far he had been careful not to move nor even touch unnecessarily any of the numerous articles in the room. But now he put out his hand promptly and lifted one of the pillows. Just as he had anticipated, a crumpled and torn letter lay directly "underneath.

An instant he regarded it without touching-, and then again he put out his hand. This time it was the lace ,ibed covering that he lifted carefully, and again he was rewarded. Beneath the cover was a small photograph, its iblank side uppermost.

Without a moment's hesitation he turned the cai-d, revealing thus a man's pictured face. Self-possessed and thoroughly schooled though he was, he started and almost cried aloud his amazement and horror, for the pictured face was that of the man to ■whom he had promised his help and his confidence. It was the face of Max Talfourd!

Ferrars snatched up the picture and thrust it into his breast pocket, glancing hastily over his shoulder. Captain Connors, with his back squarely to-

wards him, was still kneeling beside the body of the dead actress. With a quick deft movement Ferrars replaced the lace bed cover and caught up the crumpled letter . Again he glanced towards the Chief, who was apparently making a methodical measurement of the fingers of the dead hand, Then, with swift fingers, the detective straightened out the torn and crumpled sheet. In the stillness of the moment its faint rustle sounded noisy. He gave it one glance —a glance that took in one word at the bottom of the page, a name, and then, with another swit't movement, the letter was thrust out of sight as the picture had been. Francis Ferrars always kept his wits about him, and now, after a moment of thought, standing there beside the bed, he replaced the pillow and went back to the boudoir, where Captain Connors, with a grave face, was just rising from his task. j 'Captain,' said Ferrars, in a low j whisper, 'a little delay cannot harm the dead. Is there a man among those fellows outside whom we can trust to deliver a, delicate message?' The Chief shook his head. 'Then,' said Ferrars, "I must go myself.' The Chief only looked his inquiry. Ferrars laid a hand upon his arm. 'Captain,' he said, 'someone must go at once to the house of Mr Paget. He must have a warning.' Captain Connors wax not so rapid in his methods as was the Englishman, but he had not been Chief of Police to no purpose. 'Good Heavens!' he exclaimed, after one mute moment. 'f.s that aifair going to mix itself with this?' 'Not if I can help it,' said Ferrars, grimly. 'But someone must go.' 'Very well,' replied the Chief. 'Then it had better be ' He hesitated a moment. 'Have you seen Abner Paget?' 'Xo.' 'Then it had better be you.' Ferrars glanced at his watch and then back to the face of the Chief. Til explain later.' he said. 'And .[ warn you, Captain, it will take me longer to do this thing than it would one of your men.' 'Longer?' The Chief's eyes met his and a smile crossed his face. 'I see,' he said. 'Hut go, if you must. I'll keep things moving here.' When Ferrars lifted the curtain to cross to the cuter room, Frederick Quinlan sprang- up, on seeing- who it was. And when the English detective dropped the hanging and briskly crossed the reception-room, Quinlan moved after him. 'One moment, sir,' he said, eagerly. Ferrars halted and faced about. 'You are going out?' asked Quinlan. Ferrars nodded. 'I want to make an appointment with you.' Quinlan lowered his voice, and as Ferrars continued silent he drew still nearer. 'I must see you as soon as possible,' he continued, in a sharp whisper. 'If money will buy them, I want your services.' Still no word from Ferrars, only a look of inquiry. 'Do not fancy,' went on Quinlan, in the same sibilant whisper, 'that I am going to submit tamely to what, I clearly foresee. I realise my position and I want your help. Oh, I know who you are!' Francis Ferrars continued to eye him keenly for a moment, and then he said, as he put out his hand to draw aside the second portiere: '.Be very careful how you use your knowledge.' (To be Continued.)