THE DETECTIVE AND THE POISONER.

Auckland Star, Volume XXIX, Issue 167, 18 July 1898, Page 6

THE DETECTIVE AND THE POISONER.

BY ST. GEORGE RATHBORNE.

Author of "Doctor Jack," "Captain

Tom," etc.

CHAPTER IX.

BRAVE EDITH

1 am bu^ of bed like a flash, and has-" lily begin to dress. My hands trfenblei, as if I Mad the ague, and the time it takes ma to don a portion of my clothes sterns like an age, thoughin all probability it is only a minute at the mo&t.

Thrusting my feet into "my Congress gaiters, anu without even looking'for a hat, I open the glass 'doors of my room and run out upon the piazza.

Voices attract my attention at once, and I turn in that direction. The butler has appeared on the scene, with two of the women servants, all hastily dressed. \

'What is it—what can it. mean?' they call to me, as tHough I could tell. . A door opens—-Muriel, white-faced and wearing a dainty dressing-gown, appears. At any rate she ,has aot been farmed. Then who gave that shriek who fired the shot?\

'Where is Joe —my husband?' she falters. .'..... \ Then it suddenly gashes upon me that? he is indeed mjssing. Surely such- sounds close by • must arouse him. .'•..', " ■ '

Witfi a wild fear tugging at my iieart I spring- to the do6r of his room —the corner one; It is fast. In vain I wrench at the knob, antl am about to dash my • foot through the sash when Muriel clasps my ariifi. 'Come \through my room —the coniieetin^. dpor is open,'.she gasps. I comprehend the idea, and in an instant ariv oh the way, followed by the others. Passing through the second room we reach that on: the corner. It is almost dark, but 1 can faintly see the bed. - 'Strike a lig*ht, some one,' I exclaim, as I make my way toward it. Yes, Joe is lying there—he has only taken his coat and shoes off, and then thrown himself upon the bed.

He lies there motionless —good heavens, can he be dead? I imagine all manner of terrible things, even in that moment of time. What if his wife, in an insane mood, has entered his room and killed him-—the shot, the woman's shriek, his apparent lifelessness^—all these things would indicate such a tragedy.. The 6 I reach the bed and clutch him. My grasp does not arouse him, and at once my hand goes to his heart.

It beats! thank God for that!

Hurriedly 1 pass my hands over hte face and his body —there is no sign of a wound, no trickling- blood. The gas flares up^-Muriel's trembling hand, has struck a match and applied it,,.., Then she flies to my side and fiaafgs?ove'r rbim. 'What ails him?" Oh,' is he hurt—has he shbte-himself, doctor?' pointing to Joe's revolver, which lies upon the bed.

I snatch it up, and one glance tells me that all the barrels in the cylinder are loaded. The weapon has not been discharged recently. Again I turn to Joe. What can ail him?: Surely all this noise and light should arouse even the heaviest sleeper.

JUst then, as I glance around in bewilderment, my eyes fall upon a little phial that rests on th.c table near the bed. It is the one I gave Joe, containing" the opiate.

Immediately the truth dawns upon inc. > ■ .

The phial was full wheri I handed it over to Joe, telling him to take about a quarter of its contents —I am positive regarding this fact, for I filled every bottle in my case before leaving New York.

It is now half empty,

Hence Joe must have taken a double dose by mistake, or else finding- it did not work immediately, got up and renewed it.

At any rate he is now suffering from the effects of the sleeping- potion. To arouse him I suddenly begin to shake him, and shout in his ear such exclamations as are best calculated to stir his blood, telling those back of me meanwhile not to be alarmed, that Joe has simply taken too strong an opiate, and that I will speedily bring him to. . "■■'"•■'"..

Unseen by the lookers-on, I manage to pinch him a number of times, while thus working over his form. It, may seem cruel, but I know it is the' best way in the world to arouse a m^n thus situated.

When a short time has elapsed, there is a movement on the part of my victim-^-his limbs straighten out, the eyes open and survey me in. bewilderment.

'Wake up, Joe!' I exclaim. 'Well, what in the deuce is all this tow about? I thought I heard bells ring and engines puffing, while some one shouted fire! ■ Is the place ablaze, doctor?'

'jSto ; no, it was? trying* to arouse you.'

-But .what do all these people want here, aiid Muriel —why so frightened? Has anything happened to ineV sitting UP-..

'We were aroused by a shriek and a pistol Shot. \ Since you know nothing about it, Joe, I. am at a loss which way to turn.' , [

'Perhaps I can throw some light upon this mystery,' says a firm voice.

I survey the speaker—it is Edith.

She has hastily donned a wrapper-^----her glorious hair sweeps down her back in a flood. Her face is deathly pale, and I notice that she has a towel wrapped around one arm, which, of course, suggests a wound.

Joe is incapable of taking a lead in the matter, though pretty much awake by this time, so I put my hand to the plough.

'Ah! can you tell us who gave that shriek?' I ask.

'It was myself, doctor,' she replies, calmly.-.

'And do you know who fired the shot?' '

'Again, it was myself.'

'Are you subject, to dreams, young -lactyj'..qr.was the shot, sent at some one?' 'It was fired at a man in my room.' ' This creates a sensation. - Even Joe arotises to the occasion. ■ 'EtUth/ for heaven's sake, tell us all —who was the man—how came he there—and your arm is tied up! Are you hurt?' . ■■ ■■...;. , > As lie speaks he staggers to his feet, hardly noticing the crouching figure of his wife near by, and goes to Miss Morrison. By tny faith she is the calmest per- | son in the room. 'A few words will tell all. I awakened from sleep to see a. figure in •my room—a man, who had by some I means opened the glass door. He had a black mask over his face, and my eyes seemed-equal'to" ; a cat's in the dark, for I could see a knife in his hand. 'With this he was advancing toward me. Perhaps you may be surprised to lvnow.it,,but. ever since I had-that adventure with the Italian lazzaroni at Naples^ a year ago, I have never gone without a small revolver. 'This was within reach and I grasped it at the same time the man saw me move, and uttering a curse, sprang at me. lam a woman and I screamed. Then I pulled the trigger of the revolver, and a report followed. 'I remember feeling a shock that sent me back, and when I looked again' my horrible night visitor was gone. 'Feeling that I had been wounded I rose, tossed on this breakfast-gown, and examined my arm. Then I wrapped this towel about it, and hearing a great noise in here came to see if that awful burglar had murdered any one. That is all there is about it.' 'Bravo! Miss Morrison. You are a woman of. hefve, I declare. I hope you gave the scoundrel what he deseized. Joe, come with me-^-let us look into this thing—if Miss Morrison will pardon Us for entering her room.' 'Don't hesitate; I assure you I would only be too glad to see you catch that monster. I believe he was bent on robbery, and perhaps only meant to 'frighten me from" crying out,' replies the heroic young woman. 'Yes", but he stabbed you,' I remark, pausing on the threshold of the door. 'But that was after I had already screamed, and even fired at him,' she

replies. 'True, indeed.' i Joe has already. preceded me, and when I reach the third room, where the gas has been lighted, I find him bending down at the glass door, as though decidedly interested. The effects of the sleeping potion have entirely disappeared, and Joe is as wide awake as a ferret. 'Look here, doctor.' He points to the lower glass—there is a circular hole cut in it about five inches in diameter. The piece lies outside, with a daub of wax fastened in the middle, by which means the fellow has kept the circle of glass from falling inwardly, after a glazier's diamond cut it. I understand this readily—it is a trick in common practice among house-breakers. 'That looks like the work of a burglar,' I remark. He glances up into my face with a look that almost alarms me. You know as well as I do, doctor, that the man who entered this room did not come as an ordinary thief in the night,' he says, 'Then you suspect—' 'I feel sure he came here to rob some one of life. Remember what you heard him say when Muriel agreed not to whisper a word of the truth for thirty hours, come what mig-ht.' 'In two nights I shall probably be able to make my safety assured,' I repeat. 'He has tried to do so on the first night,' 'You believe he came to murder Muriel?' 'Doctor, it cannot be otherwise.' 'And mistook the room?' ■ 'Ay! to his sorrow.' Joe Teally speaks my own suspicion, but I have been endeavouring to see whether there can be any other solution to the problem, and find not the faintest hope. My companion looks around him, and then dropping to his knees, examines the floor. 'Jove! here are blood marks, doctor!' he exclaimed. 'I really believe Edith winged the rascal.' What he says is the truth—little splashes of blood can be detected on the carpet. They lead toward the open door. . . 'Not so fast, Joe. You forget Edith was hurt.' ■ 'True, but she tied a towel over1 the cut, which I. don't believe is serious. At any rate it was not bleeding outwardly when she came to us.' 'Right, Joe, I really think she must have put a ball into the fellow.' We follow the trail out upon the wide verandah, over the edge of which it vanishes. The shadow of the house prevents our seeing it again. Beyond, in the moonlight, we might find it, but the task seems well nigh {hopeless. The man has vanished, and we had better let him go, if he is in a condition to carry off the lead Edith Morrison has so promptly presented him with. The others —with the exception of the butler and the coachman, who has arrived on the scene bearing an old army musket —are still in the other room* and we join them. • Joe tells what we have discovered. He lays stress upon the fact that the unwelcome visitor must have been a burglar. > I look at Muriel —-she is silent. Her face is white and frightened, as though deep down in her heart she can guess who the Would-be assassin must be, but she makes no sign. I remember her promise to keep silent for a certain length of time no matter what happened. Can she mean to be bound by that. A strange woman, I mark her down, and I hardly dare guess what construction Joe may put upon her silence. , While we stand talking .Edith suddenly sits down weakly in^a chair, and I remember that she is wounded. I call myself a, dolt for not having noticed before how white she has been getting. Fortunately , she does not faint. In another minute I have my travelling case in hand, and give her a strong stimulant to keep her Up. The maid servants are sent on different messages.^ one for a pitcher of warm water, another for some linen bandages, and so on, while Joe orders the two men qa duty outside. Then we carefully unwind the towel from her left arm. With the second wrap we conic to plenty, of blood. It is soon removed, and the sleeve ripped up underneath. The warm water comes, and is partly poured into a basin.; I test it myself, until I have it the right temperature, and then gently bathe that faultless arm. Presently I see the cut—it is insignificant though bleeding rather profusely. v

(To be continued daily.)