AN UNPLEASANT PREDICAMENT.

Evening Star, Issue 13002, 22 December 1906, Page 13

AN UNPLEASANT PREDICAMENT.

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[Bt A Medico.] “ Help! Help! Help!” A cold shudder passed over me as I beard the agonised cry. I suddenly stopped in my brisk walk along a. lonely by-street in a quiet end of London. I dare not Bay which end/ otherwise my curious friends would be supplied with a cue to my identity. I said “my brisk walk.” I used the words inadvertently, for the frost lay hard and thick on the ground, and I bad to cling, as it were, to the pavement with the soles of my Cookhams in the endeavor to keep as perpendicular a position as possible. 'I had felt intensely miserable all that dull, damp, depressing Christmas Day. The few friends I possessed in the City had somehow overlooked mo -when sending out invitations for the festive season. Not one living soul had wished mo the season's greetings. My landlady had gone the previous night to spend the holidays with her married daughter, leaving me to forago for myself. Quickly pulling down the collar of my coat, which I had raised to protect my ears, I listened intently for nearly half a minute before I heard the civ again. and then it rang out in still more agonised ton©;.': “Help! Help! Help!” Without waiting a second longer, and throwing away my cigarette, I took half a dozen rapid strides ahead, throw open the gate of a pretty little villa, whence I ima (fined the erica had proceeded, and ran up tho gravel path leading up to the verandah. The front door stood slightly ajar. I pushed it wide open and entered, taking care, however, to close it behind me to prevent an easy ©scape of the robbers, if • hero happened to be such in the place. I found mvsclf in a comfortable boll, care peted, draped, and decorated with those hideous ornamentations, fans and bric-a-brac. I stood motionless under the half-tumed-up gas to consider what my next ©top should be. I saw before mo four doors, three of which were closed, whilst the fourth one (to my left) stood open. Tho house was as silent as th© grave, and I began to think that I must Lave come on a fool’s errand. I walked towards tho open door, which was half draped across, and through which 'gleamed a subdued reddish light. The room—l shall never forget it—.was one of the prettiest and most artistic I have ever seen. It was lighted only with wax candles, shaded with those dainty, fancy shades so much in vogue then. A fire burned in tho grate. Tho embers were bright and glowing, but the young hfo of the coal had long since gone. A pleasant odor of cherry-blossom seent filled the room. I looked for some heliotrope, but could not sec any. Tho cushions and drapery had evidently been profusely scented. ATI these njinut© details impressed themselves indelibly on my brain as in a flash.

On a lonium drawn up in front of the fire lay a young girl of some twenty summers, I should say. flow shall I aeserrbe her? I simply cannot. Mere words would fail to convey any adequate idea of her marvellous beauty. Her gown was made of some soft white clinging material, and at first I thought it was tho effect of her raiment, combined with the peculiar light in the room, that gave her the ghastly appearance she had, but, my God! shall I ever forget it? Stepping quietly to her side I taw that her eyes were ’closed—closed in death—and that a tiny red stream of blood trickled from what looked like a prick of a pen-knife in tho temple. That she had been foully murdered, I could not doubt. How long I stood gazing down at her I know not. My heart went out to her in her tragic loneliness. Poor girl! Cut off in the flower of her youth and loveliness? Where was her mother? Whero were her sisters? Where was her rightful protector? In fact, where was anyone? Those were questions X asked myself as I etood by tho couch, holding one of her small white hands in mine. Then 1 almost fancied that I must be dreaming, and that it was all unreal. A cinder falling from the grate on to the brass ash-pan roused mo from my reverie. I turned about and made a thorough search of tho room, but without discovering anything that would lead to an explanation of the mystery. Taking one of the candles, I examined every room in the house, first going into these on tho lower flat, which consisted of dining room, library, kitchen, and the room where tho tragedy had taken place. On tho second flat were three bedrooms and a bathroom. There was not a soul about tho place. I noticed that the back door was unlatched.

It began to dawn, on me licit I had better reek the aid of the police. X hurried out. and not many yards from the .gate met a constable. As we returned quickly to the house X told him what I had d.sooyored. Ho listened attentively, but said little —a. peculiarity I have since found to bo common amongst members of the force. We went straight' to the room where the young girl lay, and stood silently looking down at tiro innocent victim of some villain’s passion. The only blot that marred her beauty was the deep red of her life’s blood as it slowly trickled down her long fair hair and into the sleeve of her robe. It was fome time before either of us spoke, and then it was only in whispers. “ She is young to die,” he sa d softly, for which show of feeling I liked him the I could not answer. If X tell you I had fallen in love with this girl, lying cold and dead, you will hardly credit it, J hut so it was If I could have saved her life I would willingly have done so at the cost of my own. It would have been the greatest joV on earth to have seen her eyelids open, but a fad experience had taught mo that when death once takes you m 'hie embrace it is for ave and ever. , „ “We should have a medical man here,, <aid my companion, whose name ho had told me' was James Jute. „ r “I aru a doctor,” I answered. the first I knew there was no hope. “By the way, what is your najne. he asked abruptly, and I felt rathcr riian saw that he eyed me v.p and down kcenlj. “ Hr ,” I replied. “Where do yon live?” <i jn street. I have just got through my la*t medical exam., and I am now fooking out for a practice. I don t suppose you’ve heard my name before. “CWt sav 1 have,” was the gruff reply. “ Something’ must he done here at once; Ho in hi turn examined the room, and I that I w«S felt as thouch I could strangle him when I eaw him handle her after the murderer, it’s about time bo re turned, don’t .you think?” M.V question went unanswered. Jut threw up the window-sash and blew his Sic. P In an amazinglyjbqit time ive heard someone come up the gravel waUv. Jute let the newcomer in, and while they hold a.conversation in the passage I leaned against the mantelpiece and looked upon the dead face o'f the only woman who bad ever caused the slightest flutter about my “ Mr Grieves, sir,” said Jute,, in a low voice, as he re-entered the room, accompanied by another policeman. I acknowledged the in,rreduction with a slight bow, and wondered if it bad been eome old baa lying there would wo have spdken in such subdued tones. “We must report to headquarters, said Jute, after wo had ta ked tho matter over. “Grieves, you stay here until I return; von too. doctor.” * “ Yes, I am going to remain here for the present,” I replied ; “ then I intend to hunt to the murderer, and I swear to find him. living or dead.” ,1 spoke veheii ently. 1 think now that my mind must have b:en slightly unhinged at tho . tflne.. I saw the significant glahccs the policemen shot at one another, but did not attach much im port an cc to them. How the next day pursed 1 can but faiutly remember, I knowI was chief wit nets at tho inquest. Tho only other evidence called was that of the two policemen, the landlord of the villa, :in.T fli-i-f nf a. ifnKij u,rihr. I also know

that there were some ugly reports gpinit about concerning me; bat what cared 1. I suppose people could not understand my haggard face and strange conduct. As 9 matter of fact, I could hardly understand myself. Tlow 1!, a. nnm of nearly twentyfive years of age, who had ©soaped thus far unscathed iby Cupid’s darts, should now hare fallen a victim to the charms of a sweet dead face was an enigma. , No on© cam© to claim her! no one sbouied to know aught of her. The landlord said her husband’s name—-yes, wretch that I was, I had seen the wedding ring cm her finger—-was James Talbot, and that they had only been his tenants for two days. Beyond that ho knew nothing of them. Where was the husband? —that was the question. In my own mind I felt firmly convinced that hie was the murderer. To my infinite surprise, the landlord was recalled and .told to look intently at me. Was not I James Talbot? “ No, sir. he’s not Mr Talbot. He s Mr now Hr who sat for several houns last Monday night with my little girl, who is ill-” . , I ought to have thanked the man for those words, but I was too bewildered to do. the right thing. If ever three lures meet his ©yea, I ask him to accept my earnest thanks for his timely recognition. His evidence probably saved mo from being arrested there and then. Tho inquest once over, X felt that I was the poor girl’s only protector. I was glad of it. I gloried in the fact. I had found her, therefore sho belonged to mo. I talked, or rather tipped, Jute over to my ride, and wo managed to obtain possession of the body, which I bad placed in a coffin with a glass lid. I determined to remain at the villa until tho husband’s re wn. If ho were away on business or on a holiday, he would come ‘back, as a matter of course. If ho bad committed the murder, ho might return to see how the land lay, cy posribly to obtain possession of his wife’s jewels, which were well worth running some risk for. But why had ho not taken them with him? Why that cry for help? I enppcoe the police thought mo somewhat eccentric, and I have no doubt they watched closely my every movement. Had I been arrested I could not hare accounted satisfactorily for tho two or more hours before I heard the cry, for I had been walking up this street, down the next, around the next block, back again, and so on, for the purpose of inhaling a good dose of freeh air into my lungs after bring confined indoors during the greatcJ'part of the day and evening. ■‘You can’t keep her longer than Thursday,” Jute remarked on the second evening of'our watch.

Wo were sitting in the dining room, smoking. “ Ko; she will have been dead three davs thou," I replied, quietly. dirte hod insisted on remaining in tho house with me, although I had told him he need not do so unices he liked- I began to feel that he was watching me, andl it was not a pleasant sensation. “X have arranged about the ground. They let me have the piece I applied for,” I remarked preeently. “ Do you mcau to say you have actually eono to the expense of buying a grave for her?” Jute eyed mo out of the comers of his eyes. “ Anyone would think she was your sa-.ter or your sweetheart.” “She is neither. Jute —more’s the pity. But you would do as much for her yourself had vou the means.” “Perhaps. She’a a sweet thing, like the flower site’s called after—violet.”

I leapt to my Sect and demanded how he knew' her name wan - Violet. Jute never by any chanee hurried himself. He rose leisurely from his chair, leisurely took down a book from a shelf, opened it at the title page, and leisurely passed it over to me. I snatched it from him, and there read tiro name Violet May, and written below it Violet Talbot. A clue at lost. Jute and X fell to and discussed it in all its bearings. We decided that we must try to find some friend of Violet May. The Talbot did not need to bo taken "into consideration, for two to ono the marriage was a runaway one, aud her husband's name a fictitious one. Our first step must bo to insert a judiciously drawn-up advertisement in the daily papers. Tire next morning I was preparing to leave tire house with tho advertisement, when, to my astonishment, Jute stopped me. _ ... “ Grieves will put that in, sir, if it is all the same to you,” Ire said. “He will be here about eleven o'clock.”

Tho words were politely eaad, and his manner was politeness itself, but I knew perfectly well what ho meant. I was under police surveillance. “ Damn your impertinence!” I cried, forgetting for tho moment that I was a gentleman. I hastened upstairs again, and locked myself in what was for the time being my bedroom. I brooded over tho strange predicament I found myself in. ,1 saw very plainly that if something unforeseen did not happen shortly I should be called upon to face a judge and jury. X was no fool, although I believe I called myself one a short while back, bo I knew the odds were dead against mo. The situation was grave, and caik-d for action, but I fait powerless to do anything, and I certainly felt more miserable and anxious than I had ever dorve on the eve of an examination. Jute disturbed mo 'by announcing luncheon. We had arranged to have our meals sent to us I did not feel much inclined for food, nor yet for Jute's company, but common sense dictated that it wore better not to moke a fuss, so 1 joined my warder in tho dining loom. I ate what I could, and drank more than was good for me. I am certain of that, otherwise 1 should never hive acted an I subsequently did. I became most affectionate to Jute, and made many silly propositions to him. However, we both eventually dozed quietly of? in our armchairs. About nine o’clock wo were roused by hearing tho front door opened with a latchkey. We were on our feet in an instant. ” Tho husband returned,’’ I whispered. Jute leisurely nodded his head. Footsteps were heard along the passage, and a figure appeared at tho dining room door which wo had purposely left open. Men, I think, are about as chary of praising good looks in their sex as women arc of praising beauty in theirs, and I am no exception to the rule, but I must admit that the man before us was tho handsomest I had ever seen, and I have seen a good many. A well-built fellow he was, to boot. “ Take your cue from me, Jute,” I murmured.

Talbot, for ho it -was, stood stock-still and stared fixedly at m. “ Good evening, sir,” I said affably, advancing and holding out my hand. A cold shiver ran through me as our hands met. “ Good evening,” he returned. “My wife has visitors, I presume?" This was put as an interrogation.

“ No, sir. lam sorry to say your wife is ill. lam a doctor, and this gentleman is a friend of mine.”

Ho slightly acknowledged the introduction, then turned to me again, and I saw that a troubled expression had come into his blue eyes. The whole expression of his face showed passionate love for his wife and sorrow for her suffering. “May I see her, doctor?” he queried. “ I must first visit my patient and ascertain how she is progressing. Mr Jute will in the meantime explain to you how she caught a fever whilst on charity bent.” I cast an expressive look at Jute as I hastened from the room. It did not takeme long to lift the corpse from the coffin and place it on the couch as nearly as possible in the same attitude as I had found it. I lighted the shaded candles, stuffed a piece of red silk in , the grate, and arranged the room as I remembered it was the mght I first entered it. I glanced around to see if all was right. Yes, it would deceive anyone not a keen observer. Now for the experiment, I thought. With a complacent smile on my face I joined the two men in the dining room, and told the husband he could see his wife

“Thank you," he said, politely, and left tho room. He turned to mount the stairs, but I told him .she was in the drawing room. For a moment he hesitated, then turned and entered the room, while Jute and I followed as far as the door, and from there watched The meeting between husband and wife.

Three sharp knocks sounded on the frontdoor. Jute admitted Grieves and two other men, one with hair-us white as driven mow hud u u i. i, un, i.i i hit. hit

fine old face, the other a much younger and sterner-looking man. I put up my finger to enjoin silence, and beckoned them forward. The husband walked around to the back of the couch and bent over his wile. He kissed her repeatedly, and lovingly stroked her hair. Ho did not seem to understand that she was dead. For some time he stood with bent head gazing at her. When he raised bis head the change that had come over his face was terrible to behold. Jute grasped me by the arm. The others did nob move—they were prepared for som?thing of the sort. Slowly Talbot walked around to the front of the couch and sat down. Drawing his wife gently to ti ; ra ho began to caress and fondle her. Ho talked quietly to her, but only a word here and there reached our ears. It seemed to us that he was trying to persuade her to do something against her better judgment, but evidently in his imagination he failed. We knew now that the horrible scone of the murder was being re-enacted. Spellbound wo saw his growing anger. We saw him quietly and cunningly take his penknife from his pocket, open it, and pni the blade into the wound in her temple. Taking her firmly by tha arms, he hold her down, talking lovingly to her the while. In triumph he seemed to watch her life ebb away. Wo beard him bid her goodbye, and tell her it would not be a very long parting. To our dying day none of us will forget that ghastly scene. IPo rose, crossed the room, opened the window, and called for help, just as I had heard him on that never-to-be-forgotten nkjht. Grieves stepped quickly forward, and before he cotjld say a word had him handcuffed. Then it took the whole five of us to got him into a straight-jacket. Later on wo adjourned to , the dining room, and there I heard the story of Talbot’s marriage. The white-haired old man was the girl's father; the younger man was a warder at a lunatic .asvluiti. As I had surmised, the marriage kad been a secret one. The father had lost all trace of his daughter, but happening to see our advertisement he had hunted np Grieves. The superintendent of the asylum knew that his escaped patient had married a girl named Violet May, therefore he also wont to Grieves in the hope of hearing something about Talbot. Whether the poor girl realised she had married a maniac will always remain a mystery.

'* Wltafc made yon let him go through that fares, doctor!” asked Jnfie, v lien wc were alone once more.

“ Tha moment I saw him I guessed his trouble, Jute, and I determined to put him to the test of an experimmt, which, if it proved successful, would completely exonerate me. You know the result.”

I think my readers will agree v ith mo that I was well out of an unplcaiaut predicament. I am still an tmmarried man, and although on the shady side of forty, bit heart remains true to my dead love. [The End.]