CHAPTER XXXXIX.

Bruce Herald, Volume III, Issue 80, 19 October 1865, Page 6

CHAPTER XXXXIX.

' . At Maudesley Abbey*. 'Why do you ask me this question V she asked, rather haughtily. • * I cannot tell you that, my lady, at present,' the detective answered;''Sut I irive you- my word of honour that I have a very good reasonjor what I do/ ' Very well,, then, 1 will answer you frankly/ said Ikwira; turning and looking Mr. Carter full-ia-the face. ' I will answer you, ior I believe that you are an honest znan. There is very little love between my father andme, :It is. our misfortune, perhaps; aud.it,may: be,only natural that it sHouM be s6>*fbr we were fceparated from each other for so many years, that, when at last the day of our meeting came, we met like strangers, andthere. was a barrier between us. thatP collet never be broken down. - Heaven' knows jub'w anxiously I use 4to look forward to my father's return ' .froni India, or how bitterly I felt the disappointment when I discovered, little by lktle, that we should never be to one toother what other fathers and daughters, who have never known me long bitterness ot sepaTaiidni- are? to each ' o'tliCT; But pray remember that I do not complain. my father has been very good t.o me f very indulgent, very generoHS. His last act, before the acc^entwbich laid him up so( long 1, was to take a journey to London oa purpose tp buy;diamonds for a necklace which was to be his- wedding present to me. I donptspeak of this because I care for the jewels,, but lam pleased, think that, in spite of the coldness of his manner, my father bad some affection for his only child.' Mr. Carter was not looking at Laura, he was staring, out. Of: the; window,, and his , eyes that stpjid glare with which they had gazed at Clement Austin tvhile the cashier.told his story» * A diamond-n«cklace t! he, said j/huißph —Ha, ha-^-yes t' All this was in art, undertone, that bummed faintly through the detective's closed teeth. ' A diamondnecklace 1 You've got the necklace, I suppose, eh, nay lady ?' ; ' No, the diamonds were bought, but ..they were, never made up/ •^The unset diamonds were bought by Mr. Dunbar^ 'Yes, to an enormous amount, I believe. While I was in Paris my father wrote to me to tell me that be meant to delay the making of the necklace until he was well enough to^ go on the Continent. He could see bo design in England that at all satisfied him/ - ' No,-1 daresay not/answered the detective ;' '-I daresay he'd find ie rather difficult to please himself in that matter.' inquiringly. at Mr. Carter. There was something disrespectful, not to say ironical, m his tone. • 'I thank you heartily for having been so candid with me, Lady Jocelyn/ he said ; ' and belißve me; I shall have your interests at heart, throughout this matter. I shall go to. worfc immediately; and you may rely upon it, I shall succeed in finding toe missing man/ 'V"";' 'You do not think that—-that under some terrible, hailucinatidn,,' the result of his long" iliness=-ybu don't think that he has cammitted suicide ?' 'No, Lady Joeelyn,' answered the der tective, decisively, L there is nothing further from mf thoughts now.'; .'Thank Heaven for that i* * And now, my lady, may I ask if you'll be kind enough' .to let me see Mr. Dunbar's vale^andto leave me alone with, him in ; these rooms f I may. pick up something that will help-, me to. find your fathe^. " By the by, you haven't a picture ot Eim— » miniature, a photography or any thing of that sort, eh V ' No, unhaDpily I have no portrait whatever of my, father.' t M ;.,■_ -

' Ah,, that .is unlucky ; but never mind, we must contrive to get on without it,' he said. Laura rang the bell. One of the superb footmen,, the .birds of paradise who consented to glorify the halls and passages of Maudesley Abbey, appeared in answer to the BumiB l o.ns, innd went in search- of Mj*. Dunbar'a own manr— the man who had waited oo the invalid ever since the acerdent. Having sent for this, person, Laura bade the detective good morning, and went, away through the vista of rooms to the other side of the hall, to that bright modernised wing of the house which Percival Dunbar had improved and beautified for the granddaughter lie idolised. Mr. Dunbar's own man was only too glad to be questioned, and to have a good opportunity o! discoursing upon the event which had caused such excitement and consternation. But the detective was not a pleasant person to talk to, as he had a knack of cutting people short with a fresh question at the first symptom of rambling, and indeed so closely did be keep hiscompanioa to the point, that a conversation with him was like a kind of intellectual hornpipe between a set of fire-irons. Under this pressure, the valet, told all he knew about his master's departure, with very little loss of time by reason ot discursiveness. 'Humph! — ha! ah, yes !' muttered the detective between his teeth ; only one friend that was at all intimate with your master, and that was ■ a gentleman . named Vernon, lately come to live at Woodbine Cottage, Lisfbrd Road; used to come at all hours to see your master; wasjxjd in his ways;, and. dressed queer; first came on Miss \ Laura's wedding-day ; was awful shabby then ; came out quite a swell afterwards, and was very free with) his money in Lisfbrd. A.h ! — humph 1 You've "hearcl your master and this gentleman at high words — at least you've, fancied so; but, the* doors being very thick, you ain't cerr_ tarn. It might have been only telling anecdotes. Some gentlemen do swear and row like in telling anecdotes. Yes, to be sure ! You've felt a belt round your master's waist when you've been lifting Him in and out of bed. He wore it under his shirt, and didn't seem to want you to see the belt. You thought it wasaaalvanic belt, or something of that sort. You felt it once, when you were changing your master's shirt, and it was all over little knobs as hard as iron, bnt very small. T hat*s all you've got to say, exc°pt that you've always fancied your master wasn't quite easy ia his mind, and you thought that was because oi his having been sus pec ted in the first place oi the Winchester murder. Mr. Carter jotted down- some pencilnotes in his pocket-book while making this little summary of his conversation with the valet. : Having done this aod shut his book, he prowled slowly through the sittiag-room, bed-room, and dressing-room,, looking 1 about him, with the servant following close at his heels. 'What clothes did Mr. Bunbar wear when he Went away ?' 'Gray trousers and" waistcoat, small shepherd's plaid coat, and he must also have, taken a greatcoat lined with Russian sable.' , '■A black coat/ 'No, the coat was dark-blue cloth, outside.' Mr. Carter opened his pocket- book, in order to add another memorandum to it — : 'Trousers and waistcoat, shepherd's i plaid; coat, dark-blue cloth lined with sable. How about Mr. Dunbar'suersonal ■appearance, eh V • f The valet gave an elaborate description of his master's looks. 'Ha! — humph!' muttered Mr. Carter f tall, broad-shouldered, hook-nose, brown eyes, brown hair mixed with gray.' The detective put on his hat after making this last memorandum ; but he paused before the table on wiiich the lamp was still standings * Was this lamp filled last night V he asked. , 'Yes, : sir, it was always fresh, filled !every day/ 'How long does it burn P 'Ten hours.' ' \V hea was it lighted ?' , 'A;littl» before sevfeft o'clock/ ; •

t * Mr. Carter removed the.glass shade* and carried the tamp* '.to the lirepljace/ He held it up over the fireplace and drained Itheoil.' .'■•: ; ■ 'It must have been burning till past four this morning*,'he said. \ The valet stared at Mr. Carter with something 1 of that reverential horror with which he,might have regarded a. wizard of the middle ages. But Mr. Carter was too much in haste to be aware of the man's admiration. He had found, out all he wan ted to know, and now there was no time to he lost. He left the Abbey, ran back to the lodge, found his assistant Mr. Tibbies, and despatched that to the Shornclifle railway station, where he was to keep a sharp look-out for a lame trar vel'ler in a blue-cloth coat lined with brown fur. If .«uch a traveller appeared Sawney Tom was to sticks to him wherever he went, but was to leave f a-,->note with the station-master, for his chiefs guidance, oontaining* information as to what he had done.