FROM PRIVATE TO PEER.

Cromwell Argus, Volume L, Issue 2650, 8 December 1919, Page 2

FROM PRIVATE TO PEER.

(COPYRIGHT.)

By Ralph Venour, Author of "Tales from an Old Curiosity Shop," etc.

PART FIVE. CHAPTER V.—(Continued.) "Pray be calm, madam, and I will tell you what has happened. He accompanied to Ba'ier-s.treet a couple of friends, who, I understand, have been staying with you for a few days. A few moments after he had left them to cross the bridge to the platform for the Inner Circle train, meaning to go to Charing- Cross, he met with an accident. I assure you it is nothing very serious. It might have been —happily it is not. A porter was wheeling a heavy load of luggage down the incline to the platform, when the truck got beyond his control. In his efforts to restrain the truck the porter let go. and it clashed down the slope at full speed. Your husband turned the corner, and the truck crashed into him full tilt. He was picked up senseless, and carried by the railway officials into a waiting-room, and I, the nearest surgeon, was sent for. I had him removed to my house, instead of sending him.to a hospital. I attended to his injuries, and after an hour or so he came to- I am afraid one of his legs is broken, but I can't say definitely until the swelling subsides."

"Oh, I must go to him at once." .'.'That will please him very much. Indeed, it was on that errand I came here. Your husband entrust eel to me this note for you." And the pseudo Dr.- Scrope held out a folded sheet of paper. Hose seized'it and tore it open. She read : "Dearest, —I have "been hurt, and I'm longing to see you.—Mervyn." "But this does not seem to be in .his, handwriting.'-' '■■•'■ • "I did not tell you all his injuries. .One of the wheels of the truck unfortunately passed over his right hand. It <was impossible for him to write. I wrote that at his dictation, but, as you can see, he attempted to sign his name." "Yes, it certainly looks like his signature, though it is very shaky." It was indeed a very good imitation of his signature. It had taken Abraham quite an hour to forge it, and add the necessary touches to make it appear the writing of the man .whose hand was badly crushed. "Give me a moment to throw on a cloak—it looks like rain and I am with you." • Rose went out, carrying the note with her- When she got to her room she threw the paper down on her dressing-table, and then hastily cast about her a waterproof cloak and pinned on a sailor-straw hat. In a moment she had rejoined Mr. Abraham. "I came by cab," he said. "It is /till waiting. Trains are slow, and at ualf-a-crown an hour cabs are cheap." "Do you think I shall be able to l;ring him home with me ?" she asked Abraham, anxiously. "If he has slept at all during my absence," he answered, "I should think it very probable." Buoyed up with this hope, Rose permitted herself to be handed into the cab which was waiting at the gate of Rose Cottage. And filled with this hope she did not speak much ; her leart was full of concern for Mervyn ; sorrow for the misfortune that had overtaken him, and a greater love for him now that he was, even temporarily, disabled. Mervyn was busy at Somerset House. Not only was he busy, he was excited beyond measure, for he was hot on the track of his parentage, and as the goal seemed to loom on his view, he grew more excited, and exerted all his ingenuity to arrive at some definite conclusion. He seemed to forget everything else in the world but this one thing. One thing only would have recalled him, and that was to know his Rose was in danger. But how could he know ?

And that she was in danger there was no doubt. For, as the cab drew nearer the narrow, crowded streets round about Baker-street, the smoothspoken Dr. Scrope drew from his pocket a handkerchief, which with his right hand he clapped over Rose's mouth, whil« with left hand and arm he controlled the struggles which she made to free herself from the deadly influence of the chloroform.

But if Rose was strong—and for a woman, she was—Abraham was much stronger. He pressed the handkerchief closer and closer to her mouth, and twist and turn as she would, she could not prevent the stupefying fumes from filling her lungs and exercising their benumbing effect on her brain. The moment the chloroform began to dull her sensations, dreams surged through her brain ; dreams and very strange wonderings. Where was she being taken ? Who was this man who said he was a doctor ? What would Mervyn think when he got home ? This last question may not seem natural when i£ is remembered that she thought she was being taken to him. But the mere fact that this terriblu trick was being played on her told her that it was a plot to hurt him. What would Mervyn say ; what would he do ? Was this man going to murder her ? If he was, how would it affect Mervyn ? At last, with her husband's name on her lips, she gave a great sigh, v-wl sank into utter insensibility.

Being thus relieved from preventing /er struggles, Abraham poured another dose of the chloroform on the Uuidkerchief and placed it over her month and nostrils.

In a short time after this cab stopped at a house in a quiet lfttlc bye street off Tottenham Court-road, and Abraham, alighting, rang the hell. a'iie door was opened by a forbidding-

looking German with one eye, who, after a few words with Abraham, entered the cab and emerged again, carrying Rose in his arms.

Abraham explained this to the cabman by saying that his wife was subject to fainting fits, and had had one of them just before the cab stopped. All unsuspecting the cabman pocketed his handsome fee and drove off.

Followed by Abraham, (he German carried Rose into a little back room, furnished with a bed and nothing else. On this they laid Rose, and leaving her to recover from the effects of the anaesthetic, they retired, locking the door behind them.

CHAPTER VI. It was striking seven o'clock as Mervyn turned in at the gate of Rose Cottage. His step was light and springy, for he was elated at the change in "his chances of at last finding out who he really was. He longed to communicate the good tidings to Rose. And he knew that in another moment, in answer to his ring, she would be running to the door, to throw her arms about his neck, and to kiss him welcome home again. He rang the bell. The door opened, but it was not on Rose his eyes fell. It was one of the maids who had answered the summons.

"I am late," he said to himself ; "she will be dressing for dinner." So he pushed past the maid and Van up stairs to her room.

He knocked, but no answer came. He opened the door and looked, in. She was not there. "Ah ! brute that I am, I forgot," he murmured ; "I forgot that she had a bad headache when I left this morning. She will be lying down on the sofa—perhaps, asleep—in the drawing-room." So down stairs again and into the drawing-room, where he found O'Shea and Julia, returned from their orgy among the waxen wonders of Tussaud's.

'•There ye arc, me son," Michael cried. "We was wondherin' if this house was desarted. We've teen Lack an hour or more, an' nary a body here to" "Where's Rose ?" asked Mervyn. "Ask me another," cried O'Shea. "Yer good lady was out win we got back, an' she's"'not come in yet." A curious thrill of presentiment ran through Mervyn's heart, but he strove against it, and asked himself sternly what harm could have come to Rose. He laughed at himself for his foolishness. But all the same, he rang the bell for Rose's maid. "Do you know when your mistress will be bade ?" "No, sir, my lady did not say." "Where has she gone ?" "1 do not know, sir." "When did she go out ?" "I think it was about four o'clock, sir." Mervyn looked at the timepiece on a bracket in the corner of the room. He saw that it was now ten minutes past seven. So she had been gone over three hours. He dismissed the maid with a wave of the hand. Where could Rose have gone ? They had no friends at. Pinner, they had not even any acquaintances. Therefore, she could not have gone calling. Rose's maid entered again. "Please, sir, may I speak with you a moment ?" "Well, what" is it ?" The maid looked ;it Michael and Julia, "if you please, si", 1 would like to speak to you privately." "Very good." And wit!; .1 wo d of apology, Mervyn followed hj r. "Well, what is it ?" he said, somewhat testily. "What is all this mysic.y?" "If you 11ica.se, sir, 1 sin.. l I have said my lady left will a gentleman." Mervyn wondered if her father had relented. For, when Pose wrote to the marquis to announce her marriage to Mervyn, that gentleman had assumed a very superior attitude ; he had written a letter in which, after hoping that one day she would awaken to the fact that she had committed a very silly deed, he had formally declared that she was mad and that he cast her off from that moment. Could the marquis have relented ? "Do "you know the name of the gentleman?" lie asked, in the hope of the answer being "The Marquis of Ilaverficld." "No, sir. But Brookes answered the door. She will know. Shall 1 ask her, sir ?" "Yes, do. And quickly."In a moment the maid returned. "Brookes says, sir, that the gentleman's name was Scrope—Dr. Scrope. He came in a cab, and my ladydrove oft' with him." Mervyn immediately jumped to a conclusion, natural enough under the circumstances. Rose had had a headache, it had grown worse, she had sent for a doctor, the doctor came, prescrihed something, and Rose had gone hack with him to get it. Perhaps she was even now walking hack. Still, three hours seemed a long, long time. He was turning away to rejoin his friend O'Shea when he thought of asking, "Did your mistress send for Dr. Scrope ?" "No, sir, I am sure she didn't." This was curious. Then how did the doctor know he was wanted to call ? Well, Rose would explain when she came in.

But the time was flying, and Mervyn grew more and more anxious. O'Shea did his best to keep him from getting restless and excited, but even O'Shea could not help seeing that something out of the ordinary had happened. Wight o'clock came—the dinner-hour at Rose Cottage—and half-past eight. But the mistress, whose place was at the head of the table, was not there. However, Mervyn sat down with Michael and Julia, and attempted to cat and drink. But it was a, sorry performance. He felt, more disconcerted and upset than he could say, more because she had left no word for him than at the fact of her not being there. Just as dinner was being finished, Rose's maid entered the room again,.

Her face was pale, and she had a strangely agitated air. She walked towards Mervyn and handed him a piece of paper. "If you please, sir, I found this on the dressing-table of my lady's room. I went in to get ready the room for the night, and I only discovered this note a moment ago." Mervyn took the- paper from her hand and cast his eve over it.

He gave a great cry of distress, and sprang from his chair. "Good heavens ! O'Shea, look at this !" and he stared at Michael while that bewildered, gftod fellow read the vcords that had deceived Rose. Michael looked up with a face blank with absolute astonishment and dis--1 may. "What do you make cf it, Michael ?" cried Mervyn. Michael put the paper down, and turned away sorrowfully. "Michael —Michael ! what do you think ?" he cried. "Mervyn, me son," said O'Shea. "bear up. Oi'm afraid yer enemies is on yer track, an' that this is the first move in their game." "You think she has been lured from the house on the pretext of being taken to me ?" ''That's ut, me bhoy, that's ut. Ut's an old thrick, an' a dirrty wan. But we'll bate thim yet. Pear up, man, bear up. Rimimbcr we've get to get her out av their claws." After the first stun and shock of this disastrous intelligence had worn off, Mervyn set his wits to work. His face was drawn and pinched with anguish, but he had. an indomitable will. So he set himself sternly to the task of unravelling the mystery of the abduction.

His first step was to call the three maids into the room, acquaint them with the facts, and then ask them to tell him all they knew of their mistress's movements that day. That did not fake long to fell, and the only new thing added to Mervyn's small stock of data was a somewhat

disjointed description of Dr. Scrope's appearance. Mervyn recognised in a few minutes that Brookes' impression of the appearance of Dr. Scrope was of little or no value. A thousand men might answer to the description she gave, and to search for the one villain among the first thousand men one met Mervyn saw to he a labour as fruitless as it would he endless.

Then, in company with O'Shea, he went, to the local police-station and staled his trouble. He gave, as well as he could, for his thoughts even yet were greatly agitated, a description of Rose's personal and of the clothes she wore, and stated the time when she left home. He did not show the inspector the slip of paper found in her room ; that he reserved to use in his own investigations. There was little sleep that night in Rose Cottage. Mervyn sat up all night on the off chance of his wife's return, and Michael sat with him for a good part of the time. The servants, eager for a sensation, as all domestics are, gossipped far into the night, and invented various ingenious reasons to account for the disappearance of their mistress. The solution they favoured the most was that Dr. Scrope was a former lover in disguise, and that Lady Rose had run away with him, leaving that scrap of paper to throw her husband off the scent. But, Rose's maid would have none of this idea, for she knew that her mistress and master were devoted to each other, and that when separated were inconsolable until they were united again. At hall-past eight in the morning, when Mervyn was having a refreshing cup of coffee to brace himself up after the night's vigil, a violent ring came to the hell, and thinking it might he news of Pose, rushed to the door. It was a telegraph messenger, and the message was for Mervyn. lie tore the orange envelope open with feverish fingers : "Clive, Rose Cottage, Pinner.—Do not worry about me. Am quite safe. Returning to-morrow ; if I cannot, will write.—Rose." "Any answer, sir ?" said the messenger. "No—no answer." The words came despondently from his lips. This telegram but added to the horrible mystery. Mervyn returned to the breakfastroom and laid the telegram beside his coffee-cup. He read it a dozen times, but no light came to him. At last, however, his eye lighted on the name of the office of despatch Kuslon-rd. Well, that was something to knowshe was in London. O'Shea came in to breakfast. Michael looked at Mervyn pityingly. He had hecn talking affairs over with Julia, and that good lady had come to the same conclusion as the servants —namely, that Rose had eloped with an old lover. At first, Michael would not listen to this, but little by little, so many cogent reasons did the sentimental Julia advance, he came round to her opinion. This was the reason of his look of pity. Mervyn passed the telegram to his friend, who read it and muttered to himself—"Return to-morrow. Not a bit of her." "What do you say, Michael ?" ask- ; ed Mervyn. "I hope she does," was the short i answer. ' j "Do you think she sent this wire ?" . "It's as loikely as not." j "Perhaps she has, perhaps she has not. If she sent it, then she must I have gone on business connected with my investigations ; but still I wonder why she didn't wire last night. | If she hasn't sent it, then 1 want to ! know who has. And I'm going to find out. before this day closes." O'Shea would have liked to say, ' "Save yourself the trouble." But he j felt sore at heart for his old com- j rade, so he held his peace. "I'm going to town. And first of : all, I'm going to see Abraham. He's a lawyer, and can direct me to a good detective. He need not know what for. I don't like him. and I think he's suppressing something that j

1 ought to know about my father. But, at least, he can't refuse to recommend me to a detective." "Well, I shall wait here all day," returned Michael, "in case anything should happen." "Do. And if Rose should come hack send a wire to me at th? V\cst Strand Post-office. I shall call there two or three times during the day on the chance of- there being a wire." And with that Mervyn departed. From Baker-street he took a cab to Bedford-row. Abraham had not yet arrived. His cleric, having seen Mervyn call several limes, made no scruple about showing him into Abraham's room, when Mervyn expressed the wish to wait for the treacherous solicitor.

For a few moments Mervyn Iried to interest himself in the morning paper. But it failed to interest him, and he turned from the paper to looking round the office. After sitting storing at deed-boxes and musty old law-books, he suddenly jumped up and seized a lit'.le bundle of slips of blue paper that lay neatly piled up on one coiner of Abraham's table. He looked at one of the slips and then at another. He held one after another up to the light as if studying the water-mark, as indeed he was doing. Then from his pocket he drew the slip that had been found on his wife's dressing-table. The slips on Abraham's table were about eight inches long by five broad; had clean cut edges, showing they had been trimmed by a guillotine along the four sides ; and bore at one end the words "Memorandum," printed in old English type. The water-mark was a. iswan, with the words "Quis separahit," for scroll. The slip that bore the forgery of Mervyn's handwriting was about six and a half inches long by five broad ; had clean cut edges on three sides, the fourth side being rough, as if the part bearing the word "Memorandum" had been folded over and torn off ; and the watermark was a swan, with "Quis separahit" for scroll. Now this was althogefher unexpected.

Was it possible that Abraham was the traitor ?." It happened that the message' which lured Rose from home was written upon paper similar to some upon Abraham's table. What did that prove ? Anything or nothing. The paper might 'have been bought at a stationer's ; it might be as common as shells on the seashore ; therefore he felt it would be wrong to suspect Abraham until he had some more definite proof. However, he could easily find out where the paper was bought, and having learned that-, if the paper was specially cut or merely a common sort.

Thrusting his precious forgery into his pocket, he put on his hat and walked into the outer office currying one of Abraham's slips in his hand. lie went up to the clerk's desk.

"Can you direct me to a good stationer's where I could get some good memoranda papers like this ? I have a good deal of writing to do, and I like this size." "You cannot do better,sir, than go to Evans and Evans, where Mr. Abraham gels his paper. I don't know if you can get any like that. Mr. Abraham has that kind specially cut for him." Mervyn held the slip up to the light. " 'Quis separahit ?' says the motto. Is this a special watermark, too ?" "I believe Mr. Abraham bought a job lot of paper some years ago—it is not ail used up yet.—and Evans and Evans cut, if, for him whenever he needs a supply. They do the printing as well." "Well, if they can't let me have this kind of paper, they can cut another kind to this size. What is their address ?"

■ "Seventy-nine, Rrownlow-strcet, sir. CSo down (lie Row, turn to your left, and it is the first street you come to."

"Thank you. As Mr. Abraham is late this morning, I'll just step round now. You needn't tell him I called—it was only about a matter of little importance." And he pressed half a sovereign into the clerk's hand. A couple of minutes later he was closeted with the manager of Evans and Evans. "No, sir, I am sorry T cannot give you exactly the same paper, because the makers of it do' not make any like it now. J have some of it in stock, hut it, belongs to a customer who has some cut specially for him now and then." The manager was looking at the slip bearing the forgery. "May I ask who that customer is, sir ?"

"There, is no reason why I should not tell you. 11 is for one of the most respected solicitors in the Roy.'— Mr. Kdward Abraham." "Thank you. I am sorry you cannot supply me." "Any other kind, sir, I shall he glad""Thanks, no. I wanted this kind only. (Jood morning." And Mervyn left, feeling that in some way Abraham was implicated in the abduction of Rose. The fact that the two papers were identical was a strong, link in the chain of evidence ; but a link does not constitute a chain, and Mervyn knew that. His next step, therefore, was to go to the telegraph office in Eustonroad.

lie walked up to that part of the counter reserved for the receipt of telegrams. Me presented the one he had received that morning. "Can you tell me who handed in this wire '!" he said, with some trepidation. "Are you the receiver of the telegram ?" "I am." "Can you show me your card V" "I have got no cards." "Can you prove your identity, then ?" Mervyn thrust his hand into his breast pocket, and drew out a quantity of letters. "These may help : They, are all ad-

dressed to me at the same address as the telegram." The cleric looked at the addresses and then at Mervyn's face. "This is not exactly proof of identify, sir" "I am Mervyn Clive." "I do not doubt your word, sir, but —these letters may not be yours." A thought struck Mervyn. "Will you send a wire, at my expense, to Michael O'Shea, Rose Cottage, Pinner, and ask him to come here at once ? Ife can prove who I am." "Certainly, that is best." "Perhaps you have a suburban directory ?" "Yes, we have." "And in the meantime you can see that Mervyn Clive—that is myself—lives there." The wire was soon despatched, and Mervyn waited about the doors of the oflice for half an hour or so. Then he went bade to the clerk and said, "I don't expect this gentleman can get here for quite an hour and a half. I am going down to the Strand on business. ]f he should come, ask him 1o wait here for me. I'll be back soon." "Very good, sir."

Mervyn hailed a cab. "Somerset House," he said. He could do nothing for an hour or so. Why not employ this leisure in pursuing his search ? It only wanted about an hour's work to bring his investigations to a close. In ten minutes he was deep in records, although between him and the dusty papers he had to examine, ever and anon floated the face of Rose, appealingly and pitifully.

In less than an hour his work was finished, and were it not that his heart were sad with the loss of Rose, he would have been rejoiced greatly at the success of his endeavours. But that loss seemed to take all the edge off his enjoyment, his satisfaction at the completion of what at one time he regarded as a forlorn hope. : Yet, in spite of his despair, he was glad he had found out Abraham to be a liar, when he had told him that I story about his father. The knowledge That Abraham was a liar on this point gave him courage to fight him on the questions of proofs committed to him by his mother, Susan I Clivc, and of what he susp?eted io be | the abduction of Rose. He could be I absolutely positive about neither of I these things ; but facts pointed to the correctness of his surmise that AbraI ham was cheating him. But how could he really prove that Abraham was playing a double game? Various plans hashed through his mind, each in its turn to l.e rejected. And, finally, he was red c?d to the war-like plan of facing the enemy in the open, and so, if possible, force his hand. This last he decided upon quickly, all the more so as every moment away from Rose added to his anguish, and his heart toiled when he thought of her being made to endure indignity and possible insult. Indeed, he was in ;i l.r.e passion when the cab he haTled in the Strand stopped at the Post-office in Euston-road. lie jumped out to find Michael patiently waiting for him at the door. A minute or two served to prove to the telegraph clerk that Mervyn Llive was really Mervyn Clive, and the address.e of the tel-'tram produced. "Now," said Mervyn, "I want to know who it was that, sent this." "It was a gentleman who gave as his name John Rose, and his address 19, Montpelicr Crescent, S.W." "What was he like ?" was Mervyn's next question. "He was somewhat Jewish in appearance. His hair is beginning to turn grey, and his face is clean shaven , except for small whiskers which are j quite white."

"Did you notice what sort of watch chain he had '.'" "Yos,, I did, because it was a very curious one." "What was it like ?" "It seemed to me to he made of small nuggets of cold, joined together by slender links. I noticed it particularly, because it rattled against the counter when lie handed in the wire." "Thanks," said Mervyn. "That was all I wanted to know." (To l.e Continued.)