THE OAKLAND MYSTERY.

Auckland Star, Volume XXVIII, Issue 276, 27 November 1897, Page 1 (Supplement)

THE OAKLAND MYSTERY.

By SYLVANUS COBB, Jr.,

ffior °f '"Zhe Gunmaker of Mosff » "The Outcast of Milan," '- "80110 of Normandy," etc.

CHAPTER XVIII. (continued). THE HOME-COMING. cj r Justin was in the library with a j. in his hand. He had drunk U gh to steady his nerves, and not B ucl more. He arose and laid aside a book as the Earl entered. He o nid smile when he chose, and he put gone of his best and brightest at the

present time. ••jfydear lord, this is a joy indeed. uto see you looking so well! I ' c purposely kept myself out of the L until I could greet you freely and igjftjly as Ido now. 1 hope you are 'sling as well as you look.' '■lam feeling remarkably well, Sir Justin,' tie old nobleman responded, as"he g»ve nis band to the other's Then he added, as he turned towards a seat, 'I had hoped that I jjjjht find my nephew here.' '•f10w,.-my lord?' Have you not seen ftirent?' the baronet cried, in real uprise. 'He left for London on purpose to join you as soon as he could In so after receiving the telegram anjonncing your arrival. He must have fjjled at Windham House.' ■ge would not have found me there,' nodded liis lordship, with utter nonflalance. 'I did not go to my house at

ill.' Sir Justin started to speak, but did it utter a word, and in a moment jorehe was pale as death. Evidently •eivas thinking, 'Why Sid he not go {3 his own house ?' And the answer ray have suggested itself, 'Because ifjiascome to fear for his life under {is own rooftree.' At length, howptr, lie manged to call his audacity :athe surface, and, with what he inI Elded for a light, playful laugh, but ~«Mch was really a piece of hysteria, I said:

'Upon my soul, my lord, I fear your gcruiDg1 youth may be leading you Mck into th; gay and festive scenes jjat used to enchant us in the years gone.'

"To this the Earl made, no response tiatever saving only a look of calm, Sart-felt contempt, which he could rot entirely conceal. Presently he ii, starting upon a new subject: 'I have brought a few friends with a from London, Sir Justin, and I tri I shall find a good mount for hiem in my stables.'

friends, my lord? Do I know

tine of them is the shipowner who sMtdly and delicately made my voysjj to and fro across the ocean a Lure and a profit. The others are i'fflds of his. Now, sir '

to they here—in the castle?' The suet was strangely excited; he apBTfd alarmed, and he broke in upon :s lordship's speech without cereav.

3ey are not here,' the Earl said, Hr. 'They were to combine busisrith pleasure, so they stopped at iii-llage inn until I could be sure ©natters here were in suitable arrs'stheir reception" and entertain-

| Itet your lordship has found it

a: M Have been well satisfied. And ici will you inform me with regard Sic stables?' ■ Tie horses are—are—about as you '-.i them, my lord, and I believe in 1 %-top condition.' "Oiimrod holding his own?'

1!' tha baronet paled and hesi-

I&L 'I am sorry to inform you, my M, that old Ni'mrod is—dead. His at caught in a brush fence —he had i fill-all in a heap, and broke his si And I may as well tell you he taevery near to breaking mine at

fie same time.' 'I suppose you have spent most of Jkt time here since I have been sue?'

B Another of those spasmodic laughs

£Aptborp replied: la truth, my lord, I may truly say 1 feehad no other home to flee to, and lay as well confess it as not —I fee about made up my mind that nay

I so must give me a home during my I •'"remaining years.' | 'Be certainly owes it to you,' reI bed Oakland with perfect calmness [ 'i self-possession. 'Few fathers,_ I Ifpine, have done more towards provider a son than you have done for * By the way,' taking up the book Jtti the baronet' had laid down, ™ must be interesting,' turning to title pag-e and reading, ' "Stein- « krg's Toxicology." Are you making I »*% of that subject?' 'pthorp came very near to breaking I utterly, but by a I effort he held his head upperI He tried another of the ghastly . '"X but the effort resulted in failI He.

■ •'R yes—yes,' he. gasped, after a. •* time; 'I had forgotten wfiat I Perhaps you have heard wine curious case of Beaufort versus -atfort. It was a case of attempted »ning by an agent which none of jj chemists have been able to ana- * I felt really interested in it. I : aS looking np the poisons said to 're been used by the Eorgias as you And now, if you will excuse %m lord, I think I'll take a turn Reopen air.' | ltle Karl nodded and the baronet 3 away. After he had gone, Lord ■mi looked at the page where a J r of the leaf had been turned 0 and where he was very sure Sir %«, teen readmg" when he had aside. The subject was % • Stfotle Poison which could be Cfl!- itered in infinitesimal doses at k ' a intervals and which would sure■f^e death without leaving behind yj® which the most delicate and '.j^ng autopsy could discover. 5,;°- Justin! Justin!' the old man W U! LSe(I) as he laid the book back !„' he had taken it, 'It is my life Wt\ Mw- Aye' and Nngent'B b4 t2- mtsnded crime- Alas! i extremities a course of tsnsf !T, escess > with a lack of moral They t i bottor n> can lead a man! 616 and f Wrest my coronet fronl *•% ivl Udll lently Possess my large thanv S ut compunction. Oh, tett er 3 a eaT ea for tlle coming- of a tio n \J e' r *ni*al at the Oakland staEar] *} T?} U from London only the cast] e tt, Warcl liad come *° the ttew otllei's had kept well in Caredaif Olmcl' "Me Uncle Eob proCol»vev P fl I? carriage,\vhen they were %r e J dl. rect to the village inn, e& tlio ate I'oom upstairs was % Un ,*• Ana they were to reuntll they should besent for.

Shortly after noon, when the Earl | had been through his stables and seen : his horses and petted his affectionate | hounds and mastiffs and greeted the I dependents who had come in his way, he sent a carriage to the inn with a note to Mr Dadmun, requesting that he and good old Uncle Rob would come to him. And they came. The old boatswain held a brief conference with his lordship, after which he took himself out of the way to remain sub rosa- until he should be wanted further.

Then the Earl and the merchant sat down over a bottle of wine and a plate of biscuits and sandwiches and considered the situation. The host had much to tell, and to say that the narrative astounded his hearer would not be a strong statement.

CHAPTER XIX

CONCLUSION,

The afternoon was little more than half gone when Nugent Apthorp arrived at the castle. His father was on the look-out and met him in the court. 'Nugent, something is up which I cannot see through. First, the Earl is like a new man. Not only is he better in health than he has been for years—better than you ever knew him—but his disposition is correspondingly changed. He is prompt and proud and self-contained, and if 1 do not greatly mistake he suspects something- of our good-will towards him. In short, my boy, I do really believe he more than half suspects that we would give him a hurried exit from, this sublunary sphere if we could.'

'Oli, pshaw! Let hinisuspect what lie pleases,' the younger man exclaimed, recklessly. He had made a stop at the inn and imbibed more than one glass of strong punch. So, too, had the father been drinking, but it had affected him differently,

'Oh, pshaw! Let him suspect what he pleases. We have the winning hand, old man. We hold every trump, saving only the lovely ward, and I havq a card, in hand that will capture that when I choose to play it. Let him suspect. The only man we had to fear is safely out of our way, and. let me ask you, what can he do? The Lord made me his nephew —son of his own sister—and it is not in his power to undo it. Let him suspect. .Say!' Nugent had caught his parent by the arm and stopped to cast a swift glance around as he uttered the last word.

'Say! Have you discovered how to compound the wonderful drops of which we have spoken? For, by Heaven, if the old fool refuses me the hand of Florence, I shall want that quieting medicine. You promised to look it up.'

The approach of a servant interrupted them at this point and the subject was dropped. The baronet next asked his son what he had done in London. Nugent gave it all truly ,save only the winning of a hundred pounds and more. Then he added:

'I suppose I shall find my dear old uncle now, though 1 am told he has brought his shopkeeping friend along with him.'

'Yes,' replied the baronet, with a look of alarm in his blotched and bloated face. 'And let me tell you, boy, I don't like the appearance of that London shopkeeper, as you call him, here in Oakland Castle. He is the man who has reared and educated young Forester.'

'Bah! What do we care for that? Yoimg Forester is safely in Kingdom Come, and all that old Dadmun can do without him won't hurt us. Now I am going to pay my respects to the nabob and to the beautiful begum. Wish me luck, old man, and I'll do as much for you.' And with this the young scapegrace turned and entered the castle.

He went first to his own apartments, whither Pierre had gone before him. There he put off his travelling garb, and having come out from under his valet's hands with his scanty hair properly oiled and brushed, his cheeks and chin shaved, and his flowing moustache waxed and curled, he donned full evening dress and sought the presence of his uncle. The Earl and Mr Dadmun were seated in the smaller drawing-room, the latter being engaged in telling over for the fifth or sixth time the principal incidents in the life of their beloved boy when they were interrupted by a disturbance outside the door communicating with the hall. Presently a servant looked in and announced:

'Mr Nugent Apthorp.' 'Let him enter,' said the earl, quietly. A few minutes later the young hopeful, with flushed face and blazing eyes and quivering lips, and with his white cravat awry and his coat collar pulled out of shape, entered the drawing-room with a rush. •Since when, may I ask, have you stationed your hirelings to prevent a o-entleman from entering your presence, my lord?' he demanded angrily. 'Pardon my heat, dear uncle.' he added, meeting the old man's surprised look, and something else he met. He met a look of the grand old face such as he had never seen upon it before—a look of conscious power; of stern, urifcb'mpfornisin*g dignity; and above all else the flush" of Health and strength. 'Pardon my heat, dear uncle, .but when your servant' put his hand on my collar it was rather more-than i could tamely submit to.' 'Nugent, if either George or old Adam Burton laid a hand upon you it must be that you had given some strong provocation.' 'My lord! Do you speak of provocation given by your heir to a menial? But, pshaw! Let us not meet so after so long a separation. Dear uncle allow me to congratulate you on your good looks. Your voyage has done wonders for you.' Thus speaking with a ready smile on his face, he advanced and put forth his hand. The earl appeared not to notice the leading remark of the last speech, nor did he resßond to the closing sentence, knowing it to be as false and hollow as was the smile that appeared on the drink-dyed face. He gnxe his hand without the friendly grasp^nd then turned and presented his friend. 'Mr Dadmun, my nephew *"f?ent, to this good friend am I indebted for much of the comfort and consequent health that has been mine to enjoy during my late voyaging. The young man bowed stiffly, but did not offer his hand. If he could have known it his countenance plainly said that he felt no sense of gratitude to the man who had given his aged relative a fresh lease of life already to°Wh°ertis Florence?' he asked still standing, though his uncle had resumed his seat. , The earl pointed to a chair and did not speak until the young man had obeyed the signal. Then, with a look j which the latter could not read, he Sa«My ward will be with us ere long.'

He touched a small spring-bell that stood on the table at his elbow, and to the servant who responded he said: George, will you find Sir Justin and tell him that I would be pleased to see him here? You will conduct him.' Nugent began to feel surprised. He had never before seen his uncle like this, and he was almost inclined seriously to ask himself if this could be the same ailing, tottering, complaining, childish old man whom for years he had trifled with and fooled as he pleased. He was engaged with such thoughts when the door was thrown open and Sir Justin Apthorp announced.

Ihe earl arose, as did Mr Dadmun, and as the baronet came forward, bowing and smiling, the merchant was presented and introduced. Unlike his son, Sir Justin was affable, and polite. He grasped the newcomer's hand warmly and greeted him with cheerful words.

'My lord,' he said, turning again to the host. 'I received your summons and have answered with all possible dispatch. Can Ibe of service to you?'

'Be seated, Apthorp, and I will tell you why I called you.' When the baronet had taken a seat close by his son the earl went on. There was a look of sternness upon his face such as was seldom seen ther,e, and a solemnity unusual with him.

'Sir Justin, and to you, Nugent, I will say: When I have an unpleasant duty to perform I wish to get it oft my mind and out of my way.as speedily as possible. Such a duty now devolves upon me. I will be as brief as I can—brief for my own sake as well as for yours. First, however, 1 have other friends whom I wish to introduce to you.' He again touched the little bell, and when the sen-ant in waiting looked in he said:

'George, will you ask Miss Lindsay if she will have the kindness to join me, together with the friends she is entertaining.'

After the messenger had withdrawn all Avas hushed in the drawing-room. The earl sat sternly erect gazing upon a spot on the wall, where he appeared to see something that interested him. Dadmun, on the opposite side of the table, toyed with a silver paper-cutter, but did not lift it. Sir Justin looked from tke earl to the guest, as though seeking to read what was in the wind, but without avail. Then he glanced toward his son, and their eyes met. Each silently asked the other what was on the tapis; but no answer was returned. The young man had lost the last vestige of his punch-born bravado, and, if possible, looked more alarmed than did his father.

The spell was broken at length. A door communicating with a second drawing-room was opened and Florence Lindsay entered. Nugent looked up and was startled. Such another presence of seraphic loveliness he had never seen. He had risen to his feet and was en the point of advancing with both hands outstretched when he saw another face —the face of a man who came directly behind her— a face startlinly familiar, though he could not for the life of him give it habitation or name.

Ah, and yet another! The first had been the face of a young man—a face fair and of rare beauty. This other was a seamed and weather-beaten face—the face of an old man, and strange to him.

But not strange to the baronet. No, no. Sir Justin knew it at once. It might have staggere'rt Him for d brief space had he not seen the younger face first. That he had known from its likeness to Colonel Tom, and this had afforded a key to the mystery of the other. But was it possible? Was he not dreaming? Were not his senses playing him false? Had not Mark Truesdale and little Tom found an end of life with the ship Pallas? Pretty soon Nugent found opportunity to whisper in his father's ear, 'Ssy, who is that, old man?' But the father's tongue refused its office. He was upon his feet, seemingly unaware of the fact, gazing from the face of the noble-looking youth to that of the older man. The 'spell was broken by the earl, who had also arisen.

'Justin Apthorp, do you know these two men? Look at them. Do you know them?'

Not until he had seen his father utterly broken and cowering, sinking back into his seat without power to utter a word, did Nugent fully comprehend the situation. He knew of but one thing that could have caused this: and the same blow that shattered the hopes of his parent crushed and annihilated himself.

And both father and son, ere a word of explanation had been spoken knew but too well the terrible blow of retribution that had fallen upon them. And it had come not unlike a bolt of lightning, with a thunder crash from a clear and cloudless noondaysky.

'Justin,' the earl went on, when it was evident that the stricken man was beyond the power of speech, 'I told you I would be brief. This scene is as painful to me as it can be to you, though in a different degree. And I will not prolong it a single moment beyond what is absolutely rieFessdry.' Then" to- the1 sort he added: 'Nugent, you behold this man, not so,old as yourself by. two years. Tell me, do you know who he is?' With a mighty struggle—a bold and foolish attempt to appear unconcerned—the reprobate replied: 'How should I know? I never saw him before. For all. I can comprehend, he may be some stray love—' With that word upon his lips and a malignant, fiendish smile on his face, the hand of his own father caught him by the collar and pulled him quickly and angrily back, and the lips of the same whispered in his ear: . 'Fool! You are playing with a tiger. Hold your tongue and ge|fc the best terms you can.' The face of the young sailor had worn a terrible look as that unfinished sentence sounded on Nugent's lips, but a glance from his grandfather had served to restrain him. 'Nugent,' the earl said, after a little pause, 'I could feel for your great disappointment, if I did not know that you had wickedly and heartlessly abused every confidence I have reposed in you, and robbed me, not only of peace and comfort, but of grosser pelf. The last act of your hand before setting forth for London was to rob my steward's safe of a large sum of "-old, and for what? For what did yoi? take it? What was the urgent call ? Oh, Justin. J,ustin ! Your wretched miserable ttol—your valet for long, long years, James Tanner, has been arrested, and is now in London Prison. And further, in his craven fear —in his hope of benefit to himself—he has made a full confession. , _ 'Justin, Mark can swear that Tanner was the man who in poor disguise dogged his steps at Madras.

But why continue the horrible recital? All is known. All your wicked plotting from the time you sought the life1 of little Tom in Madras to the time, not many months ago, when you sought that same precious life again. You have seen Tom's face and its wonderful likeness to Colonel Torn led you to inquire into the story of his life. This you gained, and it told you the truth with sufficient force to lead you to plan a second time for his destruction. And to pay for that very murder your son robbed my steward's safe—No, no, don't deny it! The proof is too strong.' At this point the earl' paused, and presently turned towards his grandson and pillowed his head upon his bosom.

'Tom! Tom! What shall be done? I can endure no more.'

The stalwart .youth, with a world of love and blessing in the look he bent upon the aged face, put his arm around the trembling form and held it close. Then another look darkened the regal features—a look turned upon the baronet and his son, and he stretched forth the arm not in filial use and pointed towards the door.

;Go! Go!' he said. 'Leave us for the present; and at another time the account shall be settled. So far as I am alone concerned, I will not look backward. Your acts in the future shall decide my course. Let that suffice for now. Go!'

The look and the voice and the whole tone and bearing- of the young1 Lord Windham were a revelation to the baronet and his son. There was a power in his slightest glance, and when he spoke with authority they shrank and cowered, knowing- full well they had met their master.

The baronet was the first to obey, and he did it without a word, and in a like manner the son followed him.

'Look up, dear grandpapa. The atmosphere is once more pure, and you may breathe it without fear. Look tip, my father's father, and be sure of this: While your precious life is spared, God willing-, I will not leave you for a day without your free consent.'

'Tom! Tom!— Little Tom!—Oh, this repays me for all!'

'Tom, what shall we do with Sir Justin and Nugent? Poor wretches! I do really pity them. The baronet has not a shilling, and the boy has only his miserable stealings.' It was on the day following their arrival at the castle, and the earl was anxious to have the matter off his mind. 'Tell me, grandpa. If they could give you sufficient assurance that they would never trouble you more how much money would you be willing to settle upon them?' 'Anything in reason,' Tom. My income—it is our income now—is more than sixty thousand pounds a year.' 'Will you call it two thousand upon them both while they live and do not. molest you?' 'Oh, gladly.' Within an hour from that time Lord Windham (Tom had taken his father's title) had conferred with Sir .Justin and his son, and they had agTeed to his proposal without a sign or a murmur of dissent. It was that they should take passage for America, or for India, on the first favourable opportunity, and the two thousand pounds a year should be settled upon them for life. Not a word was said touching the full amount being continued to the survivor in case one of themshould die before the other. Tom had suggested that it might be dangerous to put such a temptation in the way of either of those two hai'dened sinners. And probably they both understood. At all events, neither of them asked a question or offered a suggestion in that direction.

We will only say of them further: They chose India and they took Tanner with them. Nugent lived not. quite a twelvemonth, dying in the eiid of drink. After that the two thousand pounds was continued intact to Sir Justin, who, for a wonder, turned over a new leaf, and came in time to be a valued and honoured member of society.

One more scene at Oakland and our story is told.

It was a beautiful day in September and the full erew —every man, even to Owen Haggard —of the Warwick Castle were assembled within the grand old castle. They had been{; called to attend the wedding* of their j Deloved captain, now known to them as Tom Fairfax—by courtesy, Lord Windham—and the passenger whose lovely face and winsome smiles had made sunshine for them through all the homeward voyage—Florence Lindsay.

No need to tell of the joy. Who was happiest none could say. The earl and our old boatswain and Mark Truesdale, and Walter Dadmim, and a full score of the old servants and tenants, who had known and loved Colonel Tom—of them all, each in turn declared himself the happiest man living.

The marriage ceremony over a grand symposium followed, and close upon the 'wee sraa' hours' Walter Dadmim gave the last toast- of the occasion, which was drank standing and with loud acclaim:

'The Fair Bride. We have given her a loving husband; we have-given to England a noble peer; but our mercantile marine loses one of its brightest1 and most valuable ornaments.'

[THE END.]