THE GRIWLEIGH MYSTERY.

Daily Telegraph (Napier), Issue 9834, 6 August 1900, Page 6

THE GRIWLEIGH MYSTERY.

CHAPTER XX

11l news travels fast. Slade and his wife brought the tragic tidings to Grimleigh that night, and by morning the whole town-was in possession of a distorted version of the facts. The milkman reported his own particular rendering of the affair to Miss Arnott's servant, who in her turn informed her mistress. I Miss Arnott, feeling that the minister should be notified, put on her hat and called on him. She was shown into the dining room, and found Johnson making a hurried breakfast, preparatory to departing for Bethdagon. Carwell had sent a special messenger to bring him up. ' I know all about it, Miss Arnott,' he said, when the lady entered. *It is very terrible. But lam glad to say that there is every chance of Mr Mayne's recovery. ' I thought he was dying.' 4 No. Brother Carwell's messenger informs me that Lee's knife pierced no vital part. The man will recover. Let us hope that he will repent of his sins, and lead a new life.' 4 Amen to that,' said Miss Arnott softly ; < and the gipsy ?' 4He is still at large. It will not be easy for the police to catch Pharaoh. The man knows the country as I know this room.' 4 1 hope they won't catch him,' cried Miss Arnott, with a defiant look. 4 Wicked as Lee has been, Mr Mayne ia worse. Pharaoh had great provocation, to kill him. ! An eye for an eye, a tooth* for a tooth,' Mr Johnson. It Mr Mayne murdered this unhappy girl whom he made his wife, it is right that he should suffer.' 4 ' Vengeance is JMine,'' said Johnson solemnly. ' Pharaoh had no right to take the law into his own hands.' 4 Perhaps not. But Mr Mayne robbed him of the woman he loved, and no doubt he lost his head for the moment. Love is capable of all things.' 4 You are right,' said the minister bitterly, as he thought of his own sad romance. 4 God knows we arc but weak reeds blown by the wind. But we do not know yet if Mayne is guilty of Zara's death. I have still to hear the true version from Farmer Carwell.'

' Let me know when you return,' remarked Miss Arnott, rising ; then after a pause she added, ! And all these troubles have arisen from Bithiah coming to stay with you.' 'I am afraid so. Let us hope they will end with her going. Next week I celebrate the ceremony of her marriage with Finland, as they both leave in tne Dayspring.' ' Will her departure break your heart ?' asked Mies AriiOtt, sarcastically. | Johnson reddened. ' I once thought it would,' he said in a low voice. ' Aud don't you feel as you did ' ' No, 1 do not. That folly is at an end. Before her supposed death she was all in all to me. JJow I contemplate her marriage with Finland at least without distress.' A em lie of relief and joy irradiated the tace of Miss Arnott. The burden of years seemed to fall from her shoulders, and her eyes brightened like thoae of a young girl. With a swift motion s>>e gathered her shawl round her graceful figure and stepped lightly towards the door. 'Go oa your errand of mercy, 3 she said in low tones, 'and when you return come to me.' ' Miss Arnott !' cried the minister nervously, but she was gone, ami he could not summon up courage to follow her.' When Johnson was on his road to Bethdagon he thought less of his errand than was consistent with the interest vhad tor him. The last words of Miss Arnott rang in his ears ; the look on hf r face was constantly before his eyes. He knew well that his confession had inspired her with a new hope, and he did not know exactly what to think of it. His love for Tera had not been transferred to Miss Arnott. Yet the woman had done him a great kindness in the most delicate manner. He was her debtor to a large amount in money and in gratitude, yet he could see no way save o eof repaying her. That way he hesitated to take. He respected her, but he had no love to bestow. Farmer Carwell was waiting for the minister. He looked much older, for the terrible experiences of the previous night had proved a 3evere shock to hh nerves. Jack, he informed Johnson, had gone to the schooner in answer to a mes sage from Shackel. Tera was looking after the house, so far as she was able in her untrained way, and Rachel was nursing Herbert. 'Nursing Herbert!' repeated Johnson, for this was the last news he expected to hear. ' Has she forgiven him ?' Carwell did not reply at once. He brought out two chairs, and planted them in a shady comer, the sun being very strong. ' I don't know if she has forgiven him,' he said when they were seated, ' women are strange in their affection, and Rachel is no exception. Mayne has done her a cruel wrong, and if he were in his usual health and strength I do not think she would let him come near her. But now he is laid low she will hardly leave his bedside. She would not even let him be removed to his own house. I was unwilling that the scoundrel should stay here, but Rachel insisted, so I gave way.' ,

i Is he dying?' ' No, I don't think he will die ; men like Mayne never do meet the reward of their evil deeds. You remember the text of the ' wicked flourishing like a green bay-tree,' Brother Johnson. As like as not he will recover—so the doctor says. Then,' added Carwell, with a bitter smile, '1 suppose Rachel will marry him.' ' Will you allow her to do so ?' ' What can I do to prevent it ? She is of age, and can act as best plea-es her. 1 might threaten to disinherit.her, but she is so infatuated with the scoundrtl that she would not care if she we t to him penniless. And he is well off in thia world's goods, you know. Yes, I believe she will marry him, unless Chard proves him guilty of murdering his wife.' 'Do you really ihink he killed her!' asked Johnson, doubtfully. *• 'Bithiah says he did not, but I cannot see how she knows. Slade declares that Herbert met Zara on that night and obtained from h< r the pearl which Bithiah gave her for the clothes. Herbert—so that Rachel might not know of his meeting—bribed Slade with the pearl.' ' Slade should be punished for his act.' 'I think he will,' replied Carwell. ' Mr Inspector was here to-day, and he intends to report him at headquarters. So that is all Mrs Slade has gained by her jealousy. It was her discovery of the pearl which led to this. She is satisfied now that he is innocent and had nothing to do cither with Bithiah or Zara, but she has lout him his employment.' ' Slade must have known that the dead girl was Zara.' 'Yes, I believe he did. For he saw her meet Mayne in Bithiah's clothes, and recognised her face in the moonlight. The scoundrel accepted the bribe to hold his tongue, and did so in the face of all the trouble you got into, Brother Johnson.' ' Not only that,' rejoined the minister,

resentfully, ' but he actually worked against me in order to implicate me in the supposed murder of Bithiah. He tried to make out; that I had taken from my study thecord with which the girl was strangled.' ' By the way, who did take the cord ?' ' I don't know. It might have been Mayne. He was frequently in my study.' 1 No,' rejoined Carwell, after a moment's thought, ' I do not believe Mayne did so. Bithiah very truly says that if he did kill the girl he must have done so in a passion. In that case he would hardly have got the cord beforehand for the commission of a crime which at the time never entered his mind. But as the matter is, I think he is innocent of murder.' ' It could not have been Slade/ ' Certainly not. Slade had no motive to kill the girl. Zara was not married to him, but to Mayne.' 4 What about Pharaoh Lee ?' ' Oh, he was in the north when Zara was there,' replied Carwell, ' and if he were guilty he would hardly have sought the assistance of the Poldew police. No, I can't think who is the guilty person.' ' Time will show,' said Johnson, rising. 4 Has Pharaoh been caught yet 5' I ' They might as well try to catch a flash of lightning,' slid Carwell, gloomily. 4 Lee has had twelve hours' start of them, and now he has accomplished his vengeance I do not thing he will be seen in these parts again. I hope he will go free,' added the farmer, unconsciously echoing the wish of Miss Arnott. ' After all, he only gave Mayne what he deserved.' ' Brother Carwell, that is not the speech of a Christian?' 4 Perhaps not, but it is hard to be a Christian under the circumstances.' Clearly, Farmer Carwell's character and temper had not improved under the trouble that had come upon him. Yet Johnson, in spite of bis sacred profession, did not feel called upon to reprove the old man over much. To know that his only child loved a proved scoundrel and wished to marry him was provocation indeed. And Rachel, in the face of all she knew, declared her intention of becoming Mayne's wife when he recovered. She had a thousand excuses for his conj duct. ' Men are weak,' said Rachel, when her father tried to reason her out of this infatuation, ' and Herbert is no worse than the rest of them. That girl Zara tempted him, and he fell. It was honorable of him to make her his wife. I daresay he need not have done so.' ' Rachel, Rachel ! Is it my child who speiks thus ?' ' I love Herbert more than my own soul,' answered Rachel, and from this perverse attitude she could not be moved. For the next two or three days Herbert's life hung as by a thread. The doctor almost gave him up, but in ihe end he rallied. Hi.3 own strong constitution and Rachel's tender nursing prevailed, and he slowly grew stronger. Then he repented, and wept in his weakness ; implored Rachel not to leave him, and declared that it was for her sake that he had bribed Slade. Rachel required little persuasion to believe in these protestations, which were perhaps quite sincere. Base as Herbert had proved himself to be he truly loved her, and knowing this, she promised to marry him as soon as he could leave his bed. Although Carwell anticipated that her obstinacy would lead to this result, he was in despair at the prospect of its realisation.

As the days went by, Inspector Chard made all search for Lee, but failed to find a trace of him. From the moment he ran out into the night the man had not been seen. His tribe knew nothing of him—or said they knew nothiog—and although the police scoured the country for miles around no trace of the fugitive could be discovered. Then Chard relaxed his search, and began to pay frequent visits to the farmhouse to make inquiries after Herbert's health. Rachel scented the danger. 'Why do you ask so often about Herbert ?' she demanded one day. ' I wish to know when it will be safe to remove him to Poldew Gaol,' said the inspector, frankly. Rachel was not so astonished at this reply as might have been expected. ' You accuse him of the murder ?' said she, scornfully. ' Yes, and 1 intend to arrest him on suspicion. Mayne had a reason for ridding himself of the girl, aud he was the last person to see her alive. And I believe he ia guilty of her death. However, that can be proved when he is tried.' ' You intend to arrest him, then ?' ' Yes, as soon as the doctor says he can be moved.'

Rachel said no more at the time, for she might as well have to persuade a block of granite to mercy as Chard. The inspector had been taunted with his failure in this ease, and his pride was hurt. He believed Herbert was guilty, in spite of the young man's denial, and rejoiced that he had survived Pharaoh's knife to be punished for his crime. But if he was determined to arrest Mayne, Rachel was equally determined ro save her lover. Mie was certain of Herbert's innoceuce, but saw do way of proving it. Then it struck her that Tera might know the truth, and to Tera she went for information, i'he Polynesian girl was wretched enough herself at the moment, for in spite of all her cajoling Carwell sternly refused to g>ve his nephew the needful five hundred pounds, Tera was in despair, as she saw her .stay at Grimleigh prolonged for an indefinite period. 'Bithiah,'saidßachl, md esperation, ' the inspect or says that Herbert is guilty, and lam sure he is not. Can you help me to prove his jnuocence ? I would do anything—give anything—to save him.' Tera looked up alertly. 'J;<ck wants five hundred pounds,' she said ; ' will you persuade your f.i'her to give it to him if I tell you who killed Zara ? I know who did.' 'You know? Tell me — oh, dear Bithiah, tell me.' 'No. I want that money for Jack. Then I'll tell. , ' Cruel, cruel girl—mercenary ' '1 am nut mercenary,' retorted Tera, haughtily. 'If I can hejp Jack, why should I not do so ? Besides, if I help you, you should help me Get me the. five hundred from your father, and ' 'My father will not give the money.' 'Then I hold my tongue. 5 ' Herbert's life depends upon your speaking out. 'Jack's future depends upon my holding my tongue,' said Tera, with a sigh, 'and in more ways than one.' • Well, if you will only do it for money, I will give it to you myself,' cried Rachel. ' My mother left me six hundred pounds. Some of it is invested, but the greater part of it is in the bank of Poldew. I can give you a cheque now, if you will speak out.' ' I'll speak out, I'll save Herbert,' said Tera, excitedly, 'only give me the money." Disgusted with such avarice on the part of Tera, but reflecting that she had to deal with a half-civilised being, Rachel left the room and shortly returned with a cheque. 'Take it to bank and you get the money.' 'I must see the money in cash,' said Tera, cunningly. 'I won't speak till then.' ' Let us drive into Poldew thh after