THE NOVELIST. The MORNINGTON MYSTERY.

Daily Telegraph (Napier), Issue 4174, 6 December 1884, Page 5 (Supplement)

THE NOVELIST. The MORNINGTON MYSTERY.

A STORY OF THE TRUE AiSD THE

TREACHEROUS

Br Stlvantjs Cobb. Jb,

CHAPTER llf.

Arthur's letter—the sheriff's visit,

Viola Trevelyan was slightly below the medium height, of perfect form, and healthful. Her beauty consisted rather in the brightness and sparkling intelligence of the face than in its mould and outline. She had recently passed the nineteenth anniversary of her birth. J

' O, papa ! lam glad you have come. Have you heard ? Have they found him ? Where have you been ? 0 ! they have asked for you, arid they have wondered where you were.'

The doctor gently removed his daughter's hand from his arm, and held it in loving embrace.

'So many questions, my darling, I cannot answer; so you must c'en answer mo : Have they found whom ? Is anybody lost?' * Ho is missing, and his folks aro anxious. Papa !'-—-she raised a small, dimpled hand to his.shoulder, and glided the arm around his neck as, far as she could—-'do you really ' think all that naughty stuff was true ?' 'Dear child,' he answered, again taking her hand prisoner and kissing her, ' will you j tell me of whom you are speaking ?- Who ia it . that is missing ?' ' Why, do you not know ? It is Edgar ?' 'Edgar—Mornington ?' gasped the doc- . tor. ' Yes. He cannot be found.' ' Since when is he missing ?' ' Ever since, he went away from hero—our door—and you followed him ?' ',_"— I—followed him ?' ' That is what Cato says they talk outside. Somebody, was passing, and heard you speaking very harshly to Edgar—heard you talk of insulting him ; and they heard him tell you that you should bo sorry, or he would make you sorry. O! I cannot understand it.' Dr. Trevelyan was startled. He pressed his hand upon his brow and reflected. Presently he asked, earnestly : I Viola, where is Arthur ?' I I don't know, papa. I haven't seen him since he left the tea-table ? Or ho looked sad and unhappy, if not pale' Tho doctor bethought him of the letter ho still held in his, hand, and he.movedi"to the light and read it. It was without date, but Herbert knew it had been written on that' very evening, and at his table. He saw the pen which his half-brother had used, and loft as he never left a pen. The missive, written in exceeding haste, and blindly, was'as follows : ' Herbert, Dear o_d F___ow : I am off. A chance to leave sin and sorrow behind meoffers itself, and 1 will embrace it. I have taken what little money there was in your • office safe, and you may make yourself whole from my funds, all,of which are even now in your charge. Your old power of guardianBbip has never been cancelled at the bank, so you are all right. More money, which, of course, I had to have, I hare managed to raise neyer mind how. ' Dear old fellow, forgive mo for the sorrow I leave behind. I cannot help it. The spvr of the moment is a great motive power with mo. You know it always was. ' By-by, old fellow ! I cannot help it. I am bound, 1 don't know exactly whore, and you shull hear from me wlion 1 get there. So don't worry. When I write I'll tell you everything, and more, too. And l'Jl tell you how I settled the business with Edgar in a manner which I had not anticipated. Poor Edgar! But never mind now. I can't write it. ' Once more, by-by. ' Arty. 'P.S. —Kiss darling Viola for mo, and tel • ! her, God bless her! I dare not see her' just now. I hear her sweet voice in the chamber above. 0 ! for one dear kiss !—but I dare not. A.' ' 0 ! dear Arty !' the fair girl cried, who had read the letter over her father's arm, ho not noticing that she was doing so. 'What made him go off so, I wonder ? Do you know, papa ? O .' see there .' What is that ? II is blood! Is he hurt? Dear Arty! Is he—is he—hurt ?' The doctor turned the sheet, and saw what had attracted his daughter's attention—a. broad/dark, smooch, like blood ! He examined it closely, and found it to bo blood, ' surely. ' ' Do not be alarmed, precious. Most likely he had only cut a finger. Had he been badly ' hurt ho would not have been here writing, Ah!— Hark i What is that ?' ' 'somebody is coming up the front steps, ! papa. Yes, and they are on the piazza. I ' wonder what they cun want at this hour. It " is almost half-past twelve —after midnight, t O, what can it be ?' ' Viola!' he spoke quickly and eagerly, ' say not a word of this letter —not a lisp. 1 Lock it up in your bosom as though yon had never 6een it. Hush ! Ask no questions ' now; but promise me —not a word of this.' ! ' I will not speak of it, papa — not a J word.' ' Kemember ! We know not what may J have happened. There may bo more here thanwo can know, or even think. As you c valud life and joy and pence of mind for ever- s . more, let tho knowledge of this letter remain ljcked in your own bosom. Ah !' It w«9 a sharp, loud peal of the door-bell. He quickly folded ' tho letter and thrust it E into his bosom, and then moved-towards the hall, and to the outor door. As he opened the * 'door, the bright moonlight revealed a number l of men upon the piazza, while others Btood c upon the sidewalk at the gate. The foremost man—he who had evidently rung the 1 bell—he recognised at a glance, his old c friend and associate, Roger Worthing, sheriff c of tho county. Tho«-e was something significant in the appearance of this rnon,- especially i at this hour. He was very tall, —two inches i over six feet, —and stout in proportion. His t stoutness, however, was thew and sinow, c with no useless overlay of adipose tissue. He ( may have been two or three years older than c the doctor, but not more than that. t ' Worthing ! Is it you ?' c ' Yes, Doctor. Back, back, all of you ! What in the world arc you crowding i.p here c for ? You will see nothing, and you will hear not a word ; so take yourselves off as quickly t as yon can.' This latter to those who had i followed him to the piazza. Then he turned c back to tho doctor, and said : l ' Now, doctor, let us go into the house—to f a quiet room somewhere, where we can chat f for a moment.' £ Without speaking, the host turned and led t the way to his office, the sheriff closing the .< front door after him, and slipping the bolt, i Of this precaution, however, there had been < no need, as the door was furnished with a ' spring night-lulch. In tho offico they found ] Viola, standing by one of the windows, i whence Bhe hud been looking at the people in ] .tho street.- She turned as her father entered, i and when she saw the sheriff, she hastened < at onco to his side, and laid a hand upon his < arm. .To her lie was only a friend, —one of ' her father's best, —and" his presence had no < further significance. J ' O, Mr Worthing, have they found Ed- < gar—Mr.—Mornington ?' ' ;' Not yet, my dear; but he will turn up, 1 never fear. There, —now if you will lot your } father and me have a few moments to our- 1 selves.' ] ' Certainly. Bui, O, I hope they will find 1 him ?' ■ ] ' Now, Worthing,' said the doctor, as soon ' as the door had closed behind his retiring ' daughter, ' what is on the docket ? What ' docs all tills mran F.I hay E • The sheriff put out his hand and stopped * the 'speaker where he was. ' ' Herbert!— Hold ! Bo careful what you 3 say. I am now here officially. Young Morn- i itjgton is missing, and your name is Btra ngely » mixed no in the matter.' c

I 'Worthing,' said Trevelyan, speaking quickly and resolutely—plainly, not to be stopped—' let me have my say, and then you may tell me what you please. I will tell you, frankly, all I havo to tell. Edgar Mornington came tomydoor justafter evening had fallen. I would not listen to him. He tried to speak, but I would not hear him. The only word I spoke that could be tortured into a threat was this : I asked him if he would have me insult him by shutting my door in his face. That was all. And upon that, witli 'a mild though sorrowful answer, he turned and went away, and I saw him not again. Fifteen minutes later, more or less,T was called away on a professional visit. I went, and had been returned but half an hour when you rang my bell—if it was you who sounded the alarm.'

' Yes,' nodded the | sheriff ; ' I. rang. Which way, if I may ask, did your visit call *you?' ' Never mind that. You are aware, my dear sir,' the doctor added, with a smile, ' that we physicians are often made confidants in cases which we are in honor bound to keep to ourselves. Something of that kind has occupied me this.evening. Now, can you tell me how my name has become mixed up in this matter ? But, first, tell me what thero is in the fact of : Mornington's being missing.' ' M.y dear Doctor, I am puzzled,' the sheriff replied, frankly. ' Who started the alarm I cannot discover.; Evidently it did not

originate at the mansion. About ten o'clock

—perhaps a little later—a man called at the door of the Mornington House, and asked

for the young master. He was not at home, was the answer of the servant. The man, whom none of them knew—only two saw him, though—this man made strange of Edgar's being absent, as, he said, he had made an.appointment to meet him at his homo at ■ that particular moment of lime. The man' went away with words of wonderment on his lips. - * And this man, whoever he was, must have gone forth and whispered it, here and there,

■that l young Mornington was'mysteriously missing. At all events, within half -an hour after the stranger's visit twenty men had called upon the'sanie errand—to enquire for the'yohng master : and in another half-hour

the whole neighborhood had become alarmed, and.the search was set on foot. Ever arid anon I hit upon traces of this mysterious straiiger, but I have not beeriablc to get hold of him.

- ' Ihayo no doubt that it was the same man, : who.made the first enqiiiry for, you. A man Jwlioih your servant did not know, called and : asked for Doctor Trevelyan ; and when iniormed that he was absent be seemed greatly - .surprised. ""Then was set on foot—or rather, , on tonguer-7the.fact.of the interview between iyoung Mornington and.yourself at your door. , -Two men, whomT know, happened to be passing, when a third man, whom they did not recognise, stopped.them, and asked them to listen. He was so muffled up that they could ißbtieee his face,~but from their description of ; his general appearance I "am satisfied that-lie-' iwa's the/same man'who first appeared at the, ". 'Mornington mansion. He then called the at"-' tentiori of two. honest, well-meaning" men to 'that''interview, and' he has since contrived. • to drag.therii, arid,their" story, before "the, ''public.' '■!/'-;. "//.'■".■. //.'.".// I '■' You know' Doctor, how such things fly, and, moreover, how they get added to as tbeygo; and I havo no doubt that even now been whispered that'Mornington • iis dead, and that you killed him. lam not 'sure of this,:btit/ the- khowledgo that it wasso • would not surprisd-me.' . Herbert Trevelyan, iri the fivc-and-forty years of bis busy, useful life, had never before fourid himself so painfully situated as now. -He saw that the sheriff was regarding him with sympath"y,'and lie said, looking up with a.faint smile, .and shaking his head : , . ' • ' Roger, old fellow, this affects me more than ■-I couldhavo believed any untoward event, inotresulting in absolute personal harm, could '■ have done' But I do not wonder. My nervles ' have been soverely tried by another event', this night—fiii event— Be not alarmed, dear man •:.: I only alluded to the sufferings of a patient—-that's all. .But let it pass. I wish I could'know who occupied the. skin'of this uriknowh,'mysterious man wlien he appeared- . at the mansion house, and on my sidewalk. Can you give me any kind of a description of him ? "'"Only this, Doctor : Nathan Davoust and Bill -Patney, two journeymen carpenters at.: work for, Jonathan Spear, and the two men'; who were stopped by him to overhear tho conversation between "yourself 'find young Mornington. They'both represent him as quite ..stocky, rather'below, the -ordinary stature, but stout enough to make it up. His shoulders were broadband had a decided much;so as to give him the appear- ! arie'e of a hunchback. His hair was black, and he had a blacfi, f till beard.. They further describe 'him as havingaslouching, shambling gait, unci as being poorly, dressed. /However, I do not think any present description of the man can matter, as he was evidently disguised.'.. ""'. '. '■'. '."'/'•■ ./.-■'•".. "" ; A brief pause,and Worthing resumed, with the sparkle of a-new interest upon his expressive face : , '".', . ' Say, Trevelyan—do you know if you have an "enemy in our town ?' ' ' Yes,' answered thehost, promptly, andwith marked emphasis. .' All the physicians in this region' who do not read nor study— those who suspended all investigation when they"quit the medical school/and had gained .their degree of 'M.D.' —thoso,in short, who do not think for themselves, and dare not 'admit that all truth was not known to iEsculapius and his are my enemies, every one. But, my dear Worthing, there is not anian.'of them who; could descend, to such trickery as this, I am sure.' , ; 'How is it with the dentist on St.-James-street, James Milliard ?'' the sheriff added, in •a changed tone,, and with a nevv expression : of face.

. : Trevelyan started, and caught his breath, his hands/were suddenly clutched, his teeth shut .with"a snap; and a convulsive heaving of the breast was perceptible. ' That man—James Milliard—is my onemy!' lie said, at length.. 'Heis a villain— a dangerous, treacherous fellow. •■< =■_ will not tell you what I know of Ms'practice, Things •camo to me confidentially, from patientsonly I will say this : I was called— But, dear Worthing, let this be in confidence between us, as it has nothing to do with-tho case-in hand.' ■■ .I.'. :'',-■ :-■■'■

: The sheriff promised"that it should bo so, 'arid the "doctqr.prp'ceedcd :/ ■ . • ' I was called, less than a year ago, to at-terid-a crisebf nervous 'prostration. It was a woman, of middle-age—the mother of several children.;-r--I.found her suffering greatly.;. I accused her of having had recourse to powerful narcoticsfor therelief of/insomnia, which she stoutly denied. Finally, the truth-came out. She had the teeth of-her upper.jaw exj tracted for the purpose of having an artificial set put in, arid the dentist'had come Very .'near to killing iher with chloroform. His careless use of the anaesthetic had left her in such a shattered condition that she had applied to him for something to give her relief ; and she showed to me one of the powders be had given her, to be taken—one in the morning, and one on retiring. I examined the powder, and found it to bo composed of sttlphate of morphia and Iro'midc of potassium /'There wss fully a half a grain of morphine with -ten grains of bromide. What a mixture! Jt was almost'murder: / What inthe name!of all that is wonderful °'did he-mix those' ilwo agents for,?.. .Simply, he didn't know what he was about;-'' I ; examined tho woman's jaw, which had been highly inflamed and purulent, and'was 'still sore and painful, and found where, in three places, he had torn away great pieces of the maxillary process. This "sometimes/may be excusable," 1 where there is disease of the process, or ex-

treme deposits of > tartar'; -but in her .caseit had been simply.a/cruel,. wickedv;.ygnorant, efcupid ~l_S,U_ieG it to. say, .from, that time I never suffered a patient of mine to go to that miin, ] if I could-pr|v|lit it ;|and I did prevent many j and, "as I giveithetn"permission' to'use : hiy iiabie 'if they'saw man of course learned very.B"bon of my decided and effective opposition- to him;

'Yes, sir,—you may set James Milliard! dentist, down as most decidedly my enemy. ' I will make a note of that, Doctor, and keep my eyes open in that direction. If he is the man, he must havo worked his game very shrewdly ; for, certainly, his hand has not been exposed.'

' But,' soid Trevelyan, impulsively, ' Milliard cannot have been the man, after all. He has been gone from town two or three weeks, and his rooms in charge of his plateworker.'

' Yes, I am aware of that; but he may have returned,you know. At all events, lam very sure I saw him, not an hour ago, gliding out from tho Mornington Park. He had on a broad-brimmed, elouob hat, drawn down over his brow and upper face ; while the collar of a dark-colored, light-fnbric, long-skirted ovorcoat was pulled up over tho lower part of the face, as though for concealment. 1 am very sure it was tlio very man whom we are discussing. But I will set Ivan Veercroft upon his track, and ho will xery quickly run him to his lair, and unearth.him.'

Having thus, spoken, Mr Worthing arose from his seat, and took his hat, which he had thrown upon a side-table on entering, and made ready to leave. He had taken two or three steps towards the door, when he stopped and turned.

' By the way, Doctor, where is your brother —Arthur? I have not seen him during the evening.'

Trevelyan betrayed not a sign of unrest but in a tone and manner entirely easy an natural, he replied :

'Really, Worthing,—l cannot, tell you He went out not ten minutes before 1 was called away, and f. have not seen him since.'

Here a new thought presented itself: If Arthur had really gone, to be away for a considerable time, ho had better offer a word in that direction, by way of rendering subsequent explanation more easy. His thought was as a flash, and ho went on, withoutperceptible hesitation :

'He has been talking of a trip to Philadelphia, and, possibly, to New. York ; and, from words which he let full at. the tea-table, I should not bo at all surprised if he had gone, thinking that I understood. Jn fact, I think it most likely that such is the caso.'

The sheriff thanked him for his kindness in thus explaining, and again turned towards the door, his host arising, to bear, him company to the vestibule. They had reached the hall, and the doctor' was passing;.on in advance to open the way, jwhen there came to their cars, borne upon the quivering air of night, a low, murmuring sound, like tho rumble. of far-off thunder. Anon it swelled in volume, and the murmur became a roar, rending the welkin.

The two men regardedone anotherin mute ;wonder. The doctor was the first to speak, taking his light overcoat from a peg as he did 'so':;.- •. ..'.-■ .:■ j- .

-' In Heaven's name ! what can.it be ? I will gowith you.' , ~'Good! Come on. Lot us make haste. It seems to come from Mornington Park!' ■ ;.(TO BB ■ CONTINUED.) . , ; ,