A MODERN JULIET.

Auckland Star, Volume XL, Issue 270, 12 November 1909, Page 8

A MODERN JULIET.

BY CHARLES GARVICE Author of "By Devious Ways," "The Marquis," "Lorrie, or HoUow Gold," ''She Loved Him."

CHAPTER XXL Chantry Payne, crouching beside the dead body, held his breath, and listened to Harry's retreating footsteps; and, as he did so, he realised with a terror that chilied his blood the danger of his position. Harry might return; the valet or one of the other servants might ask for admission at any moment; and he— Chantry—would *se discovered beside the murdered man, would be caught redhanded, and— >ito: hand went '.(? bis throat, for he felt cnoking. Terror produces different effects upon different men. In Chantry Payne it awakened the instinct of self-pre=erva-tion and he looked round like a hunted animal for some means of escape. As he did so, his eye fell upon the rugged stick with which he had done the the deed: he looked at it dully, with a kind of fascination, for a moment; then he remembered that the stick belonged to Harry; tha-t he had seen Harry carrying it in his hand as he entered the house; that anyone else ■echo had seen him must have noticed it. Harry lmd not long since had a stormy and passionate interview with the dead man: their voices, strident ■with passion, might have been heard, must have been heard, by anyone in the corridor, or even in the. hall. If lie—Cha-nt-TV P&yire—could only get clear away from tha room and conceal hfs agitation, suspicion must fall iipon Harry. With the rapidity of a flash of lightning, these thoughts whirled through his brain. He rose and pushed the dank hair from his brow, wet with perspiration, and clenching his hands tightly, fought for self-possession. He ■went to the lamp, and looked down at his clothes. There was not a s\x>t of iblood on them anywhere; and there were no signs of the struggle about him, excepting a crumpled cuff and a torn collar. His eye fell upon the will ■which lay on the floor beside the chair; he took it up, and placed it in the safe. The safe was open; that would not do. Slowly, and with a shudder, he went to the motionless form, and took the bunch of keys from the dead man's pocket. It was some seconds before he could recover from the shock of touching his victim; then he locked the safe, replaced the keys, and turning down the lamp, moved stealthily towards the door. In the intense darkness and silence, a horrible dre.id seized him. He thought that the dead man had risen and was pursuing him —he could almost feel the cold hand touching his shoulder. With a gasp, he found the donr, unlocked it. drew out the key, and went outside. He relocked the door, and listening intently, stole quickly to his own room. With trembling fingers he put on a fresh collar and an evening sniokingcoit, lit a cigarette, and, with his door ajar, waited and listened. Presently h,? heard a step, which he knew was the ■valet's, coming along the corridor. The man was Earned Langley; he had not been in the earl's service long, the old valet having left to be married. The earl was not fond of new faces about him. had not taken to this man very much, and very often had. dispensed with his services, retiring to rest without Langley's assistance. Chantry Payne strolled out of his room, and met Langley as he stopped at the earl's door. Lnngley knocked at j it softly, and no answer coming, glanced at Chantry Payne hesitatingly. "I was going to ask if his lordship would like to go to bed, sir," he said. "I think he lias gone," said Chantry Payne. "He said that he was rather tired earlier in the evening." Langley knocked again, then softly tried the handle of the door. " j "It's locked: so his lordship must! ■Tia-ve retired," he said. "I suppose his lordship won't want mc again toni.sthr, sir?" he added, hesita-tingly. "I should think not," responded Payne, pausing at the head, of the etairs. His face was perfectly composed, his voice as low and languid as usual, though his heart was bea-ting so quickly that the pulse in his throat throbbed thickly. "If I were sure his lordship didn't vant mc, sir, I should like to run dovm to the village; there's a little affair on at the inn, and I've been a-sked to sing a. song." * Chantry forced a smile. "Oh, yes, I should think you could go, Langley," he said. '"What is your voice ?" "A light tenor, sir," replied Langley, ■with the anrateur's vanity, and with "a ■touch of gratitude for Mr. Chantry Payne's kindly interest. "Go, by all means," said Chantry Payne. "I shall hear if the earl rings, and will tell him that I have ventured to give'you permission." "Thank you, sir," said Langley. Tefhaps if Mr. Harry should want mc,

you wouldn't mind telling him also. I sha'n't be very late." "Certainly," said Chantry Payne. "You need not hurry away." "Very well, sir," said Langley. "Mr. Harry does not usually want mc until the morning." Ohantry Payne nodded carelessly, and went down through the ball on to the terrace. Langley was the only man who was likely to go to the earl's room that night, and he was disposed of- That meant that the murder would not be discovered until late in the morning of the next day. It would not give Harry much time to get away, and Chantry Payne felt that, with the present-day means of pursuing a criminal, there could be no possibility of Harry's avoiding arrest; the telegraph would settle that; but the interval would give him—Chantry Payne— time to collect himself and mature his plans.

He was tolerably cool now, and was able to face the situation and review his chances of escape. There was absolutely no evidence against him. He had entered the room and left it unseen; no sane person would suspect him of such insensate folly as the murder of the earl, because of the existence of a will by which he, Payne, benefited. In some cases the existence of a motive is as «-reat a protection to a criminal as the absence of one. That a man of Chantry Payne's intelligence and culture should murder a man who had just left him nearly the whole of his fortune, would be too foolish to be credited; wlrereas: the evidence against Harry, though only circumstantial, was simply damning. The old man and Harry had quarrelled; they had been heard quaYrelling; Harry's blood-stained stick would bo found beside the body; Harry's flight would be accepted as proof of his guilt. Yes, Harry would be caught and hanged for the murder of his uncle. Most men would have shuddered at this logical conclusion; but Chantry though he was sensible of a faint regret that Harry should suffer, neither shuddered nor hesitated. Either he or Harry must suffer, and it seemed quite right to Chantry Payne that Harry should bs the one. What did it matter what became of such a useless, brainless fellow as Harry Wrayforde? As likely as not, he would break his neck in the hunting-field, or meet with some other violent death caused by his

reckless disregard of life and limb. Tin. world was filled with Harry Wrayfordes. but there were not many Chantry I'aynes. ■As he leant against the bulustrade of the terrace and looked along the far-stretching facade of the house, he..pictured the future which awaited

him if he should win through this— trouble, if he should inherit the vast wealth of the man he had murdered. In the first place, he would be tho

master of Wrayforde .Manor; that would give him a status and position second to none in the county, lie would fill the old place with guests, men and women of influence, who should help him to attain to the height of his ambition. And to that height the W.ayforde wealth would help him to climb. He knew his own powers. He had a glib tongue, the faculty of impressing and influencing his fellow-men. He would go into the House, would become a member of the party which was then, and would in all probability for many years bo. in power. He would go into office, would get into the Cabinet. There was no reason why he should not become Prime Minister, or at any rate Minister for Foreign Affairs. He spoke several languages, had travelled much, and had seen the inside of foreign politics. Heaven! what a career stretched before him! If he could only pull through this! The phases of mind through which a criminal passes immediately after hie crime are always curious and interesting; but no phase was ever more curious and interesting than this of Chantry 'Payne. In his rhapsody he actually forgot tho murdered man weltering in his blood in the silent and darkened room, forgot his own danger—forgot, in fact, everything but the roseate vision of future power and glory. Once, as he looked towards the horizon, he saw the distant light in the windows of Thatchborough Hall, and he thought of Diana Leigh. But the thought aroused no compunction or remorse. Had the lives and the happiness of a score of people stood in his path, the road to his ambition, Chantry Payne would have swept them aside or trampled on them. Such men, men endowed with his resolution and phlegmatic temperament, with his courage —are as valuable as they are rare. When they can keep their hands clear of crime, when they can thrust self aside, they are able to conquer new worlds, to found empires, to re-establish and solidify old ones, and

to push this decrepit world of ours along the road of Progress. It is a pity that such material as Chantry Payne was made of should have been wasted in the sordid pursuit of his own interests. He could have stayed out on the 1 terrace all night, but he reflected that to do so would attract attention and perhaps arouse suspicion, and a little before midnight he went to his own room. As he passed along he hummed an air from one of the light operas, taking his cigarette from his lips to do so.

When he reached the door of the earl's room, lie paused for a moment against his will. He knew that no sound could come from it, and yet he listened as if he expected to hear the old man moving within. He always slept with his window open, and as he pulled up the Wind, as usual, he looked out at the view, at the park, at the hills ibeyond, on which were dotted the homesteads ol the farms, and said to himself: "If all goes well, all this is mine!" (To be continued dally.)