THE GRIMLEIGH MYSTERY.

Daily Telegraph (Napier), Issue 9823, 24 July 1900, Page 6

THE GRIMLEIGH MYSTERY.

CHAPTER IX,

The unfortunate Mr Johnson was so dazed by the many accusations that were made against him that this last astonished him scarcely so much as it should have done. He stared'at Captain Jacob in blank bewilderment, and it was some time before he made any reply. His silence was misunderstood by the blackmailer—for Shackel was nothing else— who proceeded with his attack in more explicit terms.

' I guess you ain't got brass enough to tell me I'm « liar,' said Jacob, with a twinkle in his one eye. ' When you came to me with that yarn of Tera lighting out for a place a* you didn't know of, I thought it was a bit queer. I couldn't make out your game, but £ made up my mind to keep an eye on you. That trip you came back here; but two weeks later you skedaddled to London.' 'That is perfectly true,' admitted Johr:son quietly ; ' I went up again to London in connection with some debts I owed.'

' Oh, rats ! you went up about them pearls.' 'Let us waive that question for the moment, Captain Jacob. I admit that I was in London two weeks after my visit to you about the disappearance of Bithiah. May I ask how you knew ?' ' Oh, there ain't no harm in telling that,' answered the captain graciously. ' I didn't cotton to the idea of the Kanaka gal disappearing while she was in your house, so I wanted to see your game and spile it in the interests of justice. I dropped a line to Papa Brand, as was hanging out here, and asked him lv keep an eye lified your way. He wired as you were going to Loudon by a certain train—'

' Korah Brand. He must have watched me ?'

' You bet, he just did, and I did ditto t'other end. I say you come out of Victoria Station and follered you. It was Hatton garden as you made for, and you sneaked into a pop-shop when you thought no one was looking. I just thought to myself, arter the gal disappeared, as you'd be by way of selliu' them pearls, so I waited till you kirn out, and dodged in on my own hook. The Sheeny—Abraham Moss is his name, and you know it —was just putting the pearls back in the bag, and 1 recognised them straight off.' ' What —the ptarls ? Impossible ?' * Well,? drawled Shackel, rather disconserted, '.if I didn't twig the pearls 1 knew thp bag was Tera's, 'cause she showed it to me when I brought you to England, and 1 knew the kind of tatt o mark as Buli put on it. Oh, the bag and pearls were Tera's right enough, but I didn't surmise as you'd put the gal in her little wooden overcoat. No, sir. 'Pears now as you did, seeing as a perlice cove says she was murdered. If I'd knowed that,' cried Jacob, with a show of virtuous wrath, ' I'd yanked you into quod. I would, by thunder !'

Johnson listened to the man without moving a muscle. He looked him calmly in the face. ' Captain Shackel,' said he coldly, ' allow me to inform you that there is not a word of truth in the statement by means of which you propose to blackmail me. I visited London the first time to enquire if you had seen my ward, who I thought might have gone to you for shelter. You denied that she had been with you, so, believing your statement, 1 returned to Grimleigh. Two weeks after her disappearance I was in great trouble about some money I owed. From some unknown person I received my several bills, receipted. They were placed on this very desk one day when I was out visiting. Much astonished I went to London and saw my creditors, to learn, if possible, who had paid the money. They one and all refused to inform me, as they had promised my benefactor not to reveal his name. Failing in this attempt, I returned for the second time to Grimleigh, and since then I have hardly left my home. Tera has been murdered, but I do not know who murdered her. I myself am wholly innocent. I never saw the pearls after the night she disappeared. f was never near Hatton-garden. I know nothing of the pawnshop you mention or of its Jew owner. The name of Moss is unknown to me. In short, Captain Shackel, I deny your accusation.' Jacob, in no wise put about by this denial, winked his one eye and became vulgarly familiar. ' That's right, sonny; you stick to it,' said he. ' It's your only chance of saving your neck. (See here, though, you Johnson,' he added in a more threatening tone, ' I hold you in the hollow ot my hand. I've got a schooner of sorts a3 I'm sailing round the Horn in, to do trading business in the islands. It's taken all my savings to buy her ; now I want, money to buy stores aud fit her out properly with rations for the voyage. That money I came here to get from you. Those pearls were worth a mint of coin, and I'm going to have my share—say five 'undred quid. Pay me that and I'll tie my tongue about your killin' the gal and sellin' her pearls. But.you refuse me, my son, and I guess you'll be singing psalms in quod this time to-morrow.' ' There is the door, captain, you can go;' and the minister, pale but firm, rose to dismiss his visitor.

I 'You won't part?' urged the little man, shuffling to his feet. 'I won't pay your blackmail, sir. Your attempt to levy it is, I may remind you, of itself a criminal offence.' 'What's murder, then?' asked the captain. ' Well, I guess I ain't a hard man, and it's true this thing's come on you sudden like. Me and Finland 'ull give you twelve hours to think about it.'

'Finland ! la he with you ?' 'I guess so. First mate. He was coming here to smash you for murdering his sweet heat t, but I sent him off to his uncle Carwell, and come myself in his place, being milder like. Well, what's to be done ?'

'Nothing, so far as I am concerned. You can go.' 'Twelve hours, my son,' threatened the captain, making for the door; 'it's either five hundred pounds to me or gaol and the gallows lor you. Figure it out your own way. So long,' and the wrinkled embodiment of evil left the room with the utmost nonchalance. Evidently Captain was satisfied that the game whs iv his own hands. Left to himself, Johuson gave himself up to a survey of his position. He was almost in despair. This was not the first disagreeable interview through which he had gone that day, for Brand had been with him urging him to flight. Johnson was strong in the consciousness of his own innocence, and he was sustained by his belief in the justice of God, yet the evidence against him was so explicit that he could nob but see how difficult it would be to extricate himself from the position in which he was placed. He was in a net. the meshes of which were gradually closing round him. Itwas better perhaps "to adopt Brand's suggestion and fly, lest worse should befnl.

' It is friendly advic?,' said Johnson to himself with a groan; 'yet daiel accept it? After all, how do I know that Brand is my friend ? If he were a true friend he wtukl hardly spy on me

on Shackel's behalf. This suggested flight may be but a snare to make me inculpate myself. And the selling of the pearls ? How can I show that 1 did not sell them ? I was in London. Shackel swears that he saw me enter Abraham Moss's shop. The murderer must have been disguised as myself in order to throw the guilt on my shoulders. What can Ido ?—tell all these things to Chard ? No. Then I stand in immediate dauger of arrest, and I can offer no defence. Fly?—by doing that I make a tacit acknowledgment of guilt. 0 God, in Thy mercy inspire me with some plan of action. Tera, honor, good name —all gone. And now my life is in danger. What shall I do to help myself ?' He paced up and down the narrow room in a frenzy of anguish and futile thought. Then, growing calmer, he determined to question his mother as to Tera's movements and behavior on the night she disappeared. It might be that the girl had had some enemy of whom she knew nothing. * Mother,' he said, as he watched her peeling potatoes, ' I want you to tell me what Bethiah did on the night she disappeared.' Mrs Johnson looked up querulously. The name of the murdered girl disturbed her, and shegave a pious moan, such as she sometimes gave vent to in chapel when moved by the words of the sermon. ' Nothing more than usual,' replied Mrs Johnson, with another moan. ' She was mostly in her bedroom attending to her clothes. 1 was quite angry at her, George ; indeed I was, for the supper was behind, and she would not help. Indeed, no. After leaving her room she sat in the parlor like a fine lady, talking to Miss Arnott.' ' What !' cried Johnson, seizing on this admission, ' was Miss Arnott here on that evening ?' 'Didn't I tell you George? No, of course I didn't. Miss Arnott asked me not to, as 6he did not wish you to know about her quarrel with Bethiah.'

' You amaze me, mother. Why should Miss Arnott quarrel in my house?'

' Ah,' moaned Mrs Johnson, wagging her head over a potato, ' why, indeed, but the heart of man, aud likewise woman, is bad and wicked. Miss Arnott and Bithiah quarrelled over you, my son.'

Johnson looked at his mother in amazement. ' Quarrelled over me,' he said, blankly.

' They both loved you.' A bitter smile curved the minister's lips.

'At least Bithiah did not,' he said

' Nonsense,' replied Mrs Johnson; ' why, she even struck Miss Arnott out of love for you. lam glad she's gone — but I'm sorry she's dead. 1 could not have my son many a heathen. Besides, she was most careless about housekeeping, too ; you'd much better marry Miss Arnott, George ; she's not young, but she's both rich and godly. She hated Bithiah.'

Johnson waited to hear no more, but returned to his study. Miss Arnott loved him; she hated Bithiah. These words rang in his ears. A fresh thought was born of them, which he at first refused to entertain, but it forced itself upon him. It formed itself into a question—into a series of questions: Had Miss Arnott followed and strangled Bithiah ? Was it Miss Arnott who had concealed the girl's body in the field ? She had frequently been in his study ; she had quarrelled with Bithiah on the very night of the latter's disappearance. So she might have stolen the cord and killed Tera.

' She was an actress once,' muttered Johnson, ' and in spite of grace she may haye yielded to temptation. But, no !' he shuddered, ' even if the woman does love me she would not have lost her soul by murder.'

To put an end to this new doubt with which he was battling, Johnson made up his mind to call on Miss Arnott. Since the rumors against him had been rife in the town he had been shy of going out, but in this instance there was no necessity for him to go far. Miss Arnott was his next door neighbor, and a very few steps would bring him to her door. Only a broken fence of slabs divided her garden from his.

The whilom actress was a tall and stately woman. She had been beautiful, and was even now not without some remains of her early beauty. Her figure was still shapely and graceful. Not even the somewhat formless garments she now wore could hide completely the curves of her figure. In truth she was but forty years ot age, although her life of rigorous asceticism and self-denial made her look much older. Her eyes were large and dark — wonderfully eloquent in expression. There was no mistakingthe look of devotion with which they fixed themselves on Johnson a3 he was shown into her drawing room.

' This is indeed au honor,' said she, giving him her hand with much grace ; ' pray sit down, Mr Johnson. You must have some tea.'

* No, thank you,' replied the minister, who felt rather uncomfortable in her presence. ' I've come to talk seriously, Miss Arnott.'

' Js this a duty call as a pastor,' asked the woman, biting her lip. ' Have you come to talk religion tome?' ' I have come to talk about Bithiah.'

Miss Aruott's thin hands clenched themselves on her lap, and she flashed an anxious glance on her visitor. * About that poor murdered heathen?'

' Yes, about Tera — although she was no heathen. Do you know, Miss Arnott, that I am accused of having murdered her ?'

' I have heard the lie,' said Miss Arnott, with quiet scorn ; ' but I need hardly tell you that I do not believe it.'

' Thank you. My mother tells me that you saw Bitniah shortly before you left the house. I fancied she might have said something in your presence likely to throw light perhaps, on the darkness of this mystery.

Miss Arnott flushed through her sallow skin, but kept, her black eyes on the minister. ' I usk?d your mother to say nothing about that meeting,' she remarked, angrily. « Bithiah acted like the savage she was.'

'1 know she did, Miss Arnott, and I am deeply sorry to know it. It was, of course, because the poor girl's i>a«3ions were those of a partially uncivilised being that she so far forget herself as to strike you/

' She did strike me,' said Miss Arnott, drawing a long breath ; ' struck me and tore the earring from my left ear. It waß a ring of gold, and her hand or sleeve caught in it so roughly that the clasp gave way. My ear bled from her savage attack.'

' I am deeply grieved,' said Johnson, horrified at this instance of Tera's savage nature, ' but, as I have said, she was but half-civilised.'

' She was sufficiently civilised to steal my ear-ring, however,' retorted Miss Arnott. ' 1 never got it back.'

' I must see to that. What did you quarr '

Johnson stopped suddenly, for ho remembered what his mother had said was the cause of the quarrel.

' We quarrelled about you,' said Miss Arnott, in a low voice. ' Yes, 1 can now acknowledge my love for you without shame. While you were pro. perou.s and popular, with a frUrnless name, 1 kept, cut — there was no other com se open to

me. No\r that you are despised and accused of murder I can tell you howdear yon are to me. If you had not come to me to-day, I should still have told you.' The minister rose to his feet, horrified by this bold and, as it seemed to him, shameless, confession. 'Alia* Aruott,' he stammered, ' I—l—l cannot listtn to this ; I must go.' • No, stay,' she cried, with a theatrical gesture ; ' I have some claim on you.' ' Claim on me ?' replied Johnson. He conld not understaud her. Mies Arnott looked at him steadily. 'It was I who paid your debts,' she said. [to be continued.]