THE ANNEXATION SOCIETY.

Auckland Star, Volume XLVII, Issue 31, 5 February 1916, Page 19

THE ANNEXATION SOCIETY.

CHAPTER L THE CZAR'S CROSS.

J. S. FXETCHEB/!

1 The Marqrdß of Scraye, opening his feves that October morning on the lamili'ar face and figure of his valet, who, -following invariable custom, brought his a master a homely pot of tea and a couple a of digestive biscuits at precisely seven s o'clock, was quick to observe that the man looked as all men look who have news to communicate, and he vat up immediately, knowing that something had t happened. ** "Well, what is it, Beevers?" he asked, t The valet coughed, glancing at the s °"Mr Viner, my lord—he would like to _ *cc your -lordship as soon as possible. , he answered. -He'syin fact, he s wait- t ins outside, my lord." d 'The Marquis got slowly out of bed { , and into the dressing-gown which his { , man held in readiness. t "I suppose that means that somethings gone wrong during the night," he muttered. "Don't know, my lord," said Beevers. « "I haven't heard of anything, by lord, i But " '°, "Well?" asked the Marquis. •- "I thought Mr Viner looked a bit C upset, mv lord," answered Beevers, c quietly. He walked across to the win- -v dows.'drew up the blinds, and turned to , the door. "Shall I brirrg him in now, c mv lord?" he asked. t 'The Marquis thrust his feet into a pair j of slippers, and picked up a biscuit as he ( nodded an affirmative to the valet's ques- . tion: then he strolled across the room to satisfy himself as to the state of the weather. A moment later he turned from the contemplation of a fine morning to • confront his house steward, a big, solemn- 1 visaged, middle-aged man, whose face, once across the threshold, showed unmis- 1 takable signs of anxiety and dismay. He • o-ave a quick glance at the door as the , valet closed it from the other side, and the least observant of observers might , have safely laid a million to one that ; when he spoke it would be in a whisper. , "Well, Viner, what's the matter? ( a=ked the Marquis, leisurely, pouring out a cup of tea. "House been on fire, or burglars paid us a visit, or what?" The house steward came close to his master, shaking his head. His cheeks and his voice quivered. "My lord!—vour lordship didn t remove anything out of the Queen's Chamber last "night?" he asked agitatedly. "Anything out of the Queen's Cham-j DPr ?_'*ast night?" exclaimed the Mar- j quis. "No, I certainly didn't, Viner." The house steward groaned and wrung his plump hands. , "Then my lord, I'm afraid—in fact, I'm sure, my lord—the Czar's Cross has gone!" he said. "Gone, my lord—disappeared. The Czar's Cross, my lord!' The Marquis set down the cup which he was lifting to his lips. He stared at his house steward as if that functionary had just informed him that the end of the world was certainly to come within the next hour. . "Tlie Czar's Cross" he exclaimed, mc Czar's—Why, I saw it myself yesterday afternoon, Viner!" Viner heaved a deep sigh and again shook his head. "I saw it myself late last night, my lord," he answered dolefully. "So did Peters You mayn't be aware of it, my lord but Peters and I—we always take a look round the state chambers last thing Everything was all right, my lord at ten-thirty last night. But— the Czar's Cross isn't there now. The Marquis sipped his tea thougntfullv Also he ate the rest of the biscuit" which he had been crumbling when Viner entered. "Burclars?" he eaid suddenly. "I don*t think so, my lord. Because, answered the house-steward growing calmer under the influence of his mas TeT imperturbability, "if it had been bur-lars my lord, they'd have taken StrSg eL. Your lordship le> aware Wt -orh.it a lot of valuables is kept in ? if Sbine in the Queen's ChamberBut there's nothing missing except the

The Ma-xjuis nodded. He w-xs thinkmg| •hard He suddenly turned on the housesteward with a sharp uujuny. ••You haven't said anything of tins to anyone, Viner?" he asked. •Not a word, my lord — I carnOl straight to your lordship," answered Viner "I haven't even mentioned it to Peters. 1 haven't seen him this morn-"-•I it's ri"ht-sdon't speak of it to a soul"' said "the Marquis. "Now come ••.lone—let mc have a look at the cabinet.''

. (ALL BIGHTS BESERYED.)

He njotioned the house-eteward to pre cede hi-m; outside the room ho beot-. oned to the valet who was waiting in the corridor. "Beevers," he said, "don't mention, to anyone-anyone!-that Mr. Viner has been to see mc so eajly. You undermv lord," replied Bccvere. The Marquis" and the nouse-steward went along the corridor in silence until they came to a door set deeply In the waU Viner produced a key; the door, thrown open, revealed an ancient stone staircase, musty of odour and gloomy of aspect. The Marquis descended it,' however, with the confidence of one, well accustomed; at the foot of its) twenty steps he pushed open a swmgdoor covered with faded tapestry and found himself in the ante-room of the famous state chambers wherein more than one of his ancestors had at various thnes housed kings and queens, ambassadors and princes. A magnificent suite of seventeenth-century apartments filling one side of the house and looking down on the Dutch garden for which Scroye -was famous, the State State Chambers were now in the catalogue of celebrated English show places, and were to be seen on certain dayß of the week by anybody -who was willing to contribute a shilling towards the chanties of the neighbouring market town. People came from near and far to wander througi them, to admire tho old furniture. the fading tapestry, the pic; tures, the bric-a-brac, "the objects of vertu collected by the Marquises of Serave since Tudor days—especially they" came to see and wonder at the Queens Chamber, wherein stood the bed. with its sheets and coverlets untouched, wherein Queen Elizabeth had once stretched her royal limbs, and from the pillows of which had probably cursed her serving-women. Everything in that room Temained exactly as it •had been when the great Queen walked out of it; so everything was to remain until it dropped to pieces from sheer old age. The Marqui3 and his house steward passed rapidly to this faraouß apartment, and without a glance at anything else went straight to a glass-fronted cabinet which -was sunk in i*he panelled wall beside the great sculptured fireplace. This cabinet contained four shelves, lined with fadod velvet; each shelf displayed curiosities of evident interest and" value. In their time, the Marquises of Scrayc had loomed large in the political and diplomatic worlds; several of them had been ambassadors at the principal foreign courts; this cupboard-cabinet, scantily, if at all, protected gifts made to them -by various monarohs and potentates. Here wa| a jewel-set reliquary of the 12th century, given to the sixth Marquis by Pope Clement the Fourteenth, there was a miniature of himself, set in diamonds, presented to the eighth Marquis by Louis Philippe, in acknowledgment of a a kind service, delicately rendered. There were rings, intaglios, bracelets, carvings, small pictures, rare snuffboxes, given to the family by kings, and emperors, and grand dukes, and electors —not in scant number, but in profusion. And there ought to have been and certainly was not, the magnificent diamond cross presented by the Czar of all the Jlussias to the Marquis of Scraye who figured with distinction in the diplomatic negotiations which resulted in the Peace of Tilsit in 1814. One glance at the cabinet Batißned the present* holder of the historic title that his house steward had spoken hs fears correctly. He turned on his servant with a look of shocked surprise. "It's certainly not there, Viner!" he exclaimed. The house steward's mournful countenance became more lugubrious than ever. "It is certainly not there now, my lord" he assented. "But it was there last'night. It's been taken during the nght, my lord. And—l'm sure 'tis not been by burglars." The Marqtiis laid a hand on the glasv fronted door of the cupboard, and pulled it open. ... , "Of course," he said, meditatively, "we've never kept this looked, Viner, have we?" " Never, my lord," replied Viner, waxin* more disconsolate. "If your lordship remembers, I've often said that this cabinet ought to have bad a proper safety lock, long since.

" It was never locked," said the Marquis. "My father never had it locked. Besides, if burglars had wanted to have a go at it, Viner, no safety look would have kept 'em out. Mow, who on earth can have coveted that cross? 1 don't think it's been taken for its intrinsic value, you know, Viner, though it's certainly worth a few thousands for its gold and diamonds." "Yes, my lord." assented Viner. "Your lordship thinks 5"

"I don't know what to think," said the Marquis. " You see—but then, of course, you know—the thin--; had such historic associations. No—there are more valuable things than the cross in j here—intrinsically. That reliquary, for instance, is worth twice as much. I suppose you've had a look at the windows, Viner? It wouldn't be a difficult matter to get into here, y.ou know, from the balcony." The house-steward walked across to the range of high windows, going from one to tho other. The Marquis meanwhile put his head into the recessed cabinet, peering about from shelf to shelf. And suddenly he sniffed, as nt some particular scent, and he started and drew back, glancing sharply at his servant's back. "By Gad!" he muttered to himself. "By Gad!—very much by Gad!" Viner came back across the room. "Tlie windows arc all right, my lord,'" he said. "As your lordship's aware, they're all fitted with patent catches. But of course, my lord, there are other ways of getting in." "Yes—yes, of course," said the Marquis, dreamily. "Oh, lots of other ways, Viner! Well, to come back to plain fact, the thing's gone. The thing is, what's to be done now,?" Viner shook his head. "The police, my lord?" he suggested. But the marquis shook his head in his turn—decidedly and firmly. "No," he answered. "I think not, Viner. At any rate, not just now. You haven't said a word of this to anybody?" "Not to a soul, my lord!" "Then don't. Don't breathe even a suspicion of it. There's no one knows you've come to mo this morning?'' "Only Beevers, my lord." "I'll make Beevers all right. I don't want anybody in the house to know of this—l shan't speak of it to anyone. Let's see —isn't this a visitors' day, Viner?" "'lt is, my lord—from twelve to threethirty." "All right. Let things go on as usual. By the by, does anyone point out the particular objects in this room to visitors?" "No, my lord, not now. We used to, my lord, "but there are so many parties come nowadays that we just let them walk round and see things for themselves. Keeping an eye on them, of ■ course, my lord." t "Very good," said tlie Marquis. "Now, • then, come back with mc to my room; , I've already thought of what I'll do." . Once more in his bedroom the Mar- : guis sat down at his writing-table and i picked up a railway guide. Having con- } suited this he drew a block of telegram forms to him and began to write.

"I want you to send this wire off yourself, Viner," he said. '"Tell one of the men to drive you down to the village with it: I don't want anybody in the house to see it but yourself. I/rt mo see, now—yes, that will do." Laying down his pen the Marquis murmured over what he had written. "To Nicholson Packc, Esq., "123 a, Charles Street, London, S.VV. "Can you meet mc this afternoon at two o'clock shaTp at the Salutation Hotel, Brychester? I want to see you on a. very important and interesting matter.—Sc ray c." "That will do," the Marquis repeated, handing the telegram to his housesteward. "Don't forget, Viner, send it off yourself. And then—not a word, not a sign! There ia more in this affair, Viner, than you yet dream of." (To be continued dally.)