The Storyteller. THE MANOR MYSTERY.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXVI, Issue 2122, 22 February 1908, Page 2 (Supplement)

The Storyteller.

THE MANOR MYSTERY.

By FERGUS HUME Author of "Tin.' Alystery of ;i Hansom Cab,” "Tlio Jiulo Eye,” "The Hlai'k Patch,” "Jonah's Luck,” •'The Scarlet Hat," etc. [AH Eights Ueserveii.J ' CHAPTER XV. "Stop! Stop! go too* last! * Why should Sir John kill his brother?" i

"[ can't say until 1_ hear your 6iory,” said Willy, tartly, Hallon finished his ten,-'held out iiis cun for more, and without pause related all that had taken .place. Dorothy, hugging her knees, listened in silence; neither did Aiks Alinter make, any remark until the narrative was ended- Then she nodded her head judicially. "1 told you so. (Sir John killed his blether. Ho could have got the knife which wiis lying on his desk. He admits that he came to tho Grove, and saw Ins brother dead before him.” “He found him there,” said Percy, perplexed.

“I know'that. He found him alive and then stabbed him. As to that kidnapping business, I believe it is all rubbish.” ■ "But why should Sir John hide?” exclaimed Dorothy, quickly. "He fancied that lie might bo accused. But- when ho found that the body was mistaken for his corpse, he came out to face things.” ’ . , "He might have come out in the first instance,” retorted Percy. "I do not see that he is any better-off.” “Oh, yes,” said Willy, obstinately. "Ho lias had time to mature his plans. He’ll lay the blame on someone else, you may bo sure.” “Blit bis motive?” "Oh, well” —Willy'-was somewhat disconcerted —"I can’t'explain that, you know. But Richard, according to Sir John., forged bills. Sir John may have killed him to prevent further disgrace to the family. ■ “And f so have risked worso disgrace,” raid Percy, jeeiringly. "You are talking nonsense, Willy!” "Well, I may be —but those are my—opinions. If Sir John were innocent, he would have knocked you down for daring to accuse him.” “I am not so easily knocked down,” said Hallon. nettled, "However, you know all. What is to be done?” "I must go and tell father,” cried Dorothy, now on her feet. “And I,” said "Willy,- forcibly, "w.ll Wjiit until I hear Sir John’s defence, and then see if 1 oui-’t, bring home the crime >to him.” “IAIy own words,” said Hallon, '.\ had risen -to accompany Dorothy. "And I did think his behavior was strange when I spoke to him.” “He is guilty!” declared Willy, firmly. "What do you think? Do- . roiihy ?”

"I don’t know what to think, ’, said the girl, irritably.. “All 1 knew is, that there seems to ho small chance of my marrying Percy.” "You will give me up?” cried Hallon, wounded. “Never! How can you think so meanly of me? FIJ tell you now, and again in the presence of my father, that I’ll refuse Sir John and remain faithful to you, dear.” , Willy made no attempt to prevent their go’-n.g awuy. She wanted t° be alone to think- over things. This young woman’s life was somewhat dull, as she grew weary of moot things, and had -a very active brain. Therefore, she welcomed this criminal problem -as affording food for reflection and an interesting occupation. Also, she wished Dorothy to -marry Hallon, and saw that, now Sir John was -alive, Air. Clair would retreat to

ibis original position. Willy, therefore, ■•remained where she 'was, and "-—grappled with the mystery like a female Vidoeq, while the lovers, hand in hand, like Adam and Eve leaving Paradise, went to the,Manor House. And, like Adam and Eve, they felt that they were leaving Paradise, since selfish Mr. Clair would be the angel with the flaming sword, who would forbid their return. It would be difficult to prescribe the precise 'feelings which filled the squire’s breast when he heard the strange news. He was/it once angry and .glad—angry at losing his income, and glad that his wealthy friend had come to life, since he was able to turn Dorothy into a millionairess. In vain did Dorothy point out that Mr. Clair bid given his consent to her marriage with Hallori. Her father maintained—and this was • perfectly true —.that he had agreed only on condition that Percy should learn who had killed Sir John. As the millionaire was .alive, .the bargain fell through. “But if Percy discovers who killed Pit-hard?” .asked Dorothy, in despair. “That has nothing to do with me,” said Mr. Clair, selfishly. “No one can, possibly accuse 111 c of murdering Pit-hard. Not a word more, Dorothy. You shall marry Sir John.” ”1. refuse to give her up!” cried Percy, angrily. “She is an obedient daughter,” retorted Mr. Ciiir. “And ” “Not in this case,” cr-cd Dorothy, indignantly. “I’ll marry Percy or die an old maid!” “Oil no you won’t!” “Oh yes I nil!!” And there father and daughter , joined- issue. Mr. .Clair remarked that he was a Lear, and ordered Percy to leave the Manor. Of course, the young mail laid to depart,, ineo an Englishman's house is his castle; but he did so with .a defiant speech. Dorothy was sent to he-r .bedroom; and then Mr. Clair faced the -wrath of his sister, who was quite on the side of the lovers. “Don’t you interfere, Selina,” raid Mr. Clair, wratilifully. “1 shall interfere, if 1 see fit.” she retorted. “You- are belmving very badly, Francis. Love is love.” “Love in this case is poverty for all of us,” snapped Clair. “Then find the church plate hidden by Abbot Hurley, and you won't be poor. That would be better than hanging on to Sir John. I wonder you .have not more pride, Francis.” Air. Clair demonstrated -that it was pride, find of the best sort, which made him thus act the stern father. Lady Panwin did not .agree with him ; in any way; but as her brother, like ... .1,11 _ T.-’-1... 1 - P/lriT .'1« j--A.lll /] 11., ~/lj.. t ,... [ -,Q

illy in her bedroom. "Waif.” was Lady Pan win's-advice. 'Sir John is alive, but you arc not yet Ids wile.’ "I never shall be!” cried Dorothy, robellioudy. "Time will show,” -remarked Uady Pan win. -with that wisdom of age which yo-ulli finds so objectionable when expressid in proverbs. "Hut in any cnee, Dorothy, .1 am on your side.' lam no supporter of a 'Weathercock policy, either in political I a (fairs or in domestic matters.”

And so things stood when Sir John Xewbv arrived late the next day. To he precise, he came down in time for dinner, exactly -as he ought to have done on that fatal evening when Richard was .murdered. Air. Clair 'received him with joy. tempered with regret at the loss of Ids two thousand i year, and Lady Panwin behaved frigidly. Ae to Dorothy, she preferred to remain in her own room, and refused to meet this annoying lover, who had reappeared so inopportunely. But Newby made allo'wanee for her absence.

"1 quite, understand,” ho said, when he and Air. Clair sat over their wine. "1 saw that this Hallon was after her when I came down before. A maiden fancy, my dear sir—nothing more. Dorothy has more sense than to throw me over for such a pauper.”

“He -iti not precisely a pauper Newby.”

"At all events, he is not sufficiently rich to help you, as'l intend to do when lam your son-in-law. You shall have-your two thousand a year again, Clair. I promise you that,” • "1 shall ho glad of it,” said Air. Clair, sipping his wine. "Does that mean you regret 1 am alive?”

"Oh, no! I am much obliged for your kindness in remembering me in your will,” said the squire, hastily. "But I would rather see you al-ivoi than possess all your wealth.” _ Sir John grunted disbelievingly. “Well, then, we’ll leave Dorothy to come out of her sulks. She can t remain, shut up for ever. Alv money and vour authority will bring her to the altar in due course. In the meantime, I wish to learn who killed my brptlier.” "Yo.i have .no idea ?.”

"This. Hallon accused me,” said Xewbv, gruffly. "What do you think of that, Clair?” ’ - “Bless me ! Wlvit insolence! And on av-b.v: grounds?” ■ "1 never gave "him a chance of stating them,” said the millionaire, in his grim way. “I 'turned him outof my house a-, once. But I quite guess the grounds. That knife was on mv ' desk, you know. -Martha brought it from the slums, where she obtained it in a tight.” "I lemember. But why should possession of that knife- incriminate you?” . ” "Ch, it’s criminal evidence. The knife was in m'y possession, on my desk—constantly before- my eyes, in fhet. Jt is therefore natural for Hallon to -think that I used it to stab Richard. That I had no possible motive to kill my brother does not matter.” . '' ' ;

“Richard was a scamp,”, said the squire, meditatively. "What of that?” demanded the self-made man, fiercely. "Do you think that I murdered him on that ground?”

"No'! no! Don’t take me so short, Newby,”' remarked Air Clair, in his most soothing manner. " What I "mean is that, as Richard was always a scamp, it is probable that he may have been killed by one of those disreputable people he associated with.”

“It is not impossible,” said Sir John, finishing his wine, and pushing back ‘his glass. “You- know, Clair, th.it I told you how I learnt Richard had forged my name? I sent him to Russia to get him out of the way, for the time being, while l 'made inquiries. -When I .left my office to come down here on the day of the murder, I deposited my portmanteau at the Pencil inch-street station, and then went into a low quarter of the city in search of a man to whom one of the cheques was made payable, I found the public-house which the mail haunted, for I forced Richard to tell me that much. But I expect Richard warned his friend, for the man was gone. After a vain hunt, I returned to the station and came down here. Yo.u know what ■happened next.” “But why did Richard come down here instead of going to Russia?” “I explained that. The anonymous letter frightened him, and lie came personally to see the writer in the Grove. I expect he dressed up as me, hoping that the writer would think lie was iSir John Newby the rich man', and not Richard Newby the criminal. But of this I cannot be sure. However, the police may learn much.” “How will the police begin?” asked Mr Clair, helplessly. “It seems hopeless to trace a true path through this labyrinth of crime.” “The police will search for the house in' which I was confined in Soho. They can begin at that point.” “Have they found the house?” “Not yet. In my hurried exit from it I lost trace of its whereabouts, so I can’t help them. But there is another'due, which I did not tell Hallon or to the --rporters, but which I toll to you. When the sack was dropped over my head in the Cuckoo’s Grove I naturally, as any man would,• struck out with my hands. 1 grabbed at my assailant, although I did not, and could not. see him. My hands landed somewhere about bis throat, and I brought aw ty this, which I retained.” And Newby handed to his friend a daintilywrought breast-pin in the shape of a golden double eagle, with ruby eyes. “Have you ever seen anyone wearing that. Clair?” asked the millionaire, while.the squire examined the pin. “No.” answered the other. “Dou-ble-'.-rg!-.-? That’s German.” “And also Russian,” said Newby, slowly. “Ob!” Mr Claft- rose. “Do you refer to Count Bezkoff?” “Exactly.” Sir John rose alio, largo and impressive, “I have seen him wear this breast-pin. Pouf!”ho fanned b’mself with his handkerchief—“ How hot this room is. l,et ns go outside.” " i They moved towards the centre F.i-e.n eh.-,iviu do iv. ..and-stepped,. Oil t„ in J

the foot of the terrace steps the two men paused. Air Clair, leaning against a yew-tree trunk, looked at the p : n again. "Then you think that Count Buzko!!’ kidnapped you?” “Yes, The pin belongs to him, J am cert tin.” A hand came behind the trunk of tho tree, and, stretching over Clair's shoulder ,grasped the hreast-piii. "My property, by Sir John’s nvn acknowledgment,” said a laughing voice; and the speaker slopped out to face I lie two astonished men. It was Count Rezkolf. CHARTER NVi. Bezkotf was not in evening dress, and Newby guessed from this that he could, not be stopping at any house in the neighborhood, in a blue serge suit, with a tweed cap, well-booted and neatly gloved, lie looked more English than ever in the waning light. With a suave smile on his luuulsomo face, he swung a slim Malacca cine, and appeared amused by the surprise of the elder men. Air Clair was the first to recover his speech. “1 ordered you out of my house,” said the squire, haughtily. "But not out. of the grounds,” said Bezkoff, gracefully. "It is the same thing. You aro trespassing.”

"I understand. Pardon my ignorance of English law. Now that 1 have recovered my property 1 shall depart.” “Stop!” shouted Newby, who was purple in the face with anger. .1 want'a word or two with you, Count.” "A dozen if you like,” , said Buzko If, returning. "1 am waiting, sir.” "Why are you lurking about here?” demanded Clair, since Sir John, after his outburst, did not seem inclined to speak.

“I followed Sir John here from London this afternoon, sir. As you had inhospitably forbidden me your house I was forced to listen at the window up there,” and Bezkoff waved his hand towards the terrace.

Newby shook himself like a big dog and growled. "And what business had you to listen? What business have you to follow me?” lie demandeel, in i threatening tone. The Russian looked him squarely in the. eyes'. “I admit that such behavior is shabby,” lie said, lightly, "and not quite what a gentleman of my country would do: But what would you?” with a French shrug. "I am a revolutionary, and have to do many things which otherwise I would scorn. A'ou were good enough, Sir John, at one time, to have some sympathy with my unhappy country, so—” “Never!” interrupted Sir John,* violently. "It was Richard who approved of your mad schemes. Richard was just the sort of person to admire your crazy ideas. But this does not explain why you followed me?”

"I think it does, Sir John. Richard told me that you were in favor of a revolution in Russia, and 1 followed you to ask about funds for the cause.” . "What insolence!” cried Air Clair, angrily. "And 1 may tell you, Newby, that this man, thinking you were dead, ciuno to me, when the will was being read, and induced me to ask -him down op some such grounds. Ho declared that you -favored his schemes.”

"I never did!” said Newby, emphatically. "Ah, yes, now,” remarked Bezkoff, in a caressing tone. "Think over wliat your brother Richard said to you, and 1 feel certain that you will help the cause. As to you, Air Clair” —ho turned to tho squire—“it was less on account of my friend here that you asked me down than because you feared I should accuse you of tho murder.”

“A’ou did,” said Clair, sharply, “and I turned you out.”

"In your own house you were brave-, Air Clair, but when I hinted in London at my knowledge of your gilt you were sufficiently afraid to ask mo down and try to pacify me.”

“No,” said Clair again, “I never purchased your silence.” “Quito so,” said Bezkoff, in his most silky voice. “I played my game •of wlmt the Americans call bluff, very successfully for a time. When I induced you to bring me here, I fancied that the money , was already ] mine. But in your own -house you I found courage enough to defy me, j nnd so” —ho shrugged—“tho game was lost.” I Clair looked at tho young man j with such supreme contempt that the Russian winced. Bezkoff, apparently, was not yet hardened to tho degrading tasks which his political fanaticism required him to perform. . “I shall leave you now,” said Bezkoff, retiring. “Sir John, we -will meet, in London, and then you will doubtless belp us.” “You shall bo arrested,” vociferated Clair, following the Russian. “I will have you put in gaol for blackmailing. Stop! Stop!” And, as Bezkoff was still retiring, he plunged forward and tried to grasp him. “Take caro, old gentleman,” said Bezkoff, sneering, and stretched out I his e.tne to stop Clair coming forward. I The squire furiously wrenched, at j it, and in so doing pulled away part i of the stick, which proved to be tho sheath of a slender rapier. “You see,” said tho young man, pointing this weapon at Clair’s breast, “I am well armed.” Air Clair stood confounded, and Sir Jolm intervened. “Let him go—let ■ him go,” ho said, trying to suppress liis fury; “wc don’t want a scandal.” “Let him go!” cried the squire, stamping. “Are you mad, Newby? This man tried to blackmail me, and ho certainly kidnapped you.” “That is not true,” said Bezkoff, quickly. “It is. You admit that the breastpin is yours, and Newby—” “I heard how he got it,” interrupted Bezkoff, hastily. “I was listening at the window, remember. I might say that someone else wore this breast-pin on the night in question. To other witnesses I could deny that it ever belonged to me, anil then,” added Bezkoff, mockingly, “who could swear that I had anything to do with the disappearance of Sir John. And, on the other hand” liis voice became grace —“I could say that i saw Sir John stab his brother.” “Oh!” cried Newby, clenching his large hands, “you lie!” “You know best if I do,” said Bezkoff, significantly. “However, since it is useless to discuss these private matters in the presence of a -third party, I shall go,” and ho bogl-

' seize* Bezkoff himself, mill Newby did not seem inclined to assist, lint the squire, now eeriiin that Bezkolf cc.ild do nothin;' to him, since Richard whs not .John Newby was dead, jleeided to do what he could to punish li’m. “J.’ll call Hobson,” ho declared. ‘‘He is, 1 know, in tile kitchen, as he comes to see after tho tower. 'Tru.sk directed him to do so, to —” “To catch tho murderer," said liezkoff, mockingly. “Well, here he is.” Ho pointed with his bared rapier to Sir John. “Take him to gaol.” “Take you—take you I” cried the squire, .in his shrill, worn voice; and he set oil' running round the corner of the house in a surprising way for one so old and delicate. Newby Lurneo to liezkoff, who was picking tho other portion of his cane off tho ground to resheath tho weapon. “CjIo —go!” said Newby, hurriedly. “You will he arrested.” “Nonsense! The policeman has no warrant.” “Clair can give you in charge for trespass.” liezkoff started. “That puts a different complexion on affairs,” he said, airily. “I thank you for teachthis much of your law. lam also obliged to you for your solicitude for iny safety. May I ask what it springs from?” And ho laughed, like Mepdiistopholes, in the still, clear light. “I don’t want a scandal,” repeater Newby, who was much agitated. “Of course, 1 am innocent—but I was in the Grove. I did see my brother’s corpse; and censorious people—” “I understand,” said liezkoff, cutting him short. “But I did not think that you would give in so easily.” “I have not given in at all,” said tho other, furiously. “But, for reasons which I need not give to you, I don’t want to be accused by you, Count Bezkoff.” “What if I understand those reasons?” “You cannot understand them.” “One of tljie Vowels might/’ said the Russian, significantly . ' -. “AYliat are you talking about?” “Our society for the reformation of Russia is a very small one, and is directed by five people, who suppress their real names, and call themselves —in England, mind you ! —by the vowel letters of your English alphabet : A, E, I, 0, and U. Yery convenient, isn’t it? And I think that 0 might know .of your reasons. He is high up in our society, you know. All 1 of course you know, Sir John'. Why need I tell you all these things?” “I don’t know what you aro talking about,” said Newby, gruffly; but drops of perspiration were heading his brow. “What, did not O- —or, let me see; it was A —explain things to you in that Soiio house, where —?” ' Sir John seized the Russian by tho arm, and pushed, him towards the avenue, as. Clair, followed by tho bulky form of Hobson, came quickly round the corner. “Qo —go! You will bo arrested for trespass.” “Au revoir, then, until wo meet in London,” said Bezkoff, and walked lightly away. “There lie is! There ho is!” cried Mr Clair. “Catch him! Lock him up ! Ho is trespassing. I want- him arrested. I give him in charge. A sovereign to you, Hobson, if you have him locked up to-night.” Hobson needed no incentive to carry out liis official duties. Mr Clair had hinted that the murderer of Richard Newby was at hand, and that tho charge of trespass was z mere excuse, so that lie could be arrested out of hand. Clair .was too breathless with his exertions/to run; and Newby stood stolidly 'where lie’ was, planted on the lawn. ' But the policeman, his soul on fire with ambition to arrest the Manor .criminal, set off at a lumbering run as Bezkoff turned at the corner of the avenue and waved his hand mockingly. Whenthey both disappeared, Mr. Clair looked at Sir John. “Why didn’t you help me to arrest him?” he asked, angrily. “The man id napped you. And I verily believe that he knows much more about the murder of your brother than we give him credit for.” “I don’t know if he did kidnap me after all, Clair,” said Newby, and wiped his forehead with a trembling hand.

‘‘But the evidence of the breastpin?” “I may have been mistaken.,” stammered the other. Mr Clair looked at his guest searclxingly, in such light as remained. The millionaire was usually a stolid, unemotional man; with a cast-iron will and an abrupt manner. But the interview with the gay young Russian seemed to have unnerved him. and lie appeared to be a different sort of person altogether. “I tell you what, Newby,” said the squire, sharply. “You know something about this matter also.” “If you are talking of the murder, ] do not,” denied Sir John. “I found my brother dead, and was then kidnapped in the way I explained. But Richard was mixed up with these Anarchistic people, and—” “And they killed him. It is just what villains like that would do,” said Mr Clair, vigorously.. “I agree with you, and therefore I have to act carefully, lest I should bo killed also.” “But you aro not entangled with them ?” “No. But Richard was; and I am Richard’s double in looks. And then —and then —” Sir John stopped and groined. “I am placed in a very difficult position, Clair—a very difficult one indeed.” “I don’t understand you,” said Mr Clair, wonderiugly. “You never will, until —” “Until what —until when, I mean?” tSir' John Newby looked towards Abbot Hurley’s Tower bulking largely in the luminous twilight. “Until 1 have Bezkolf’s secret society, with its five of a council, in a trap 1 ’ And after this somewhat enigmatic speech, Sir John refused to discuss the matter further. Mea u while, Bezkoff was feeling verv much astonished. 1‘ rom the glimpse he had caught of Hobson’s figure, lie had thought that it would be easy to outrun him, but the big constable proved to beextraordinarily swift of foot. He hurled himself over the ground like an elephant in uniform, and, like the elephant, covered the miles with great rapidity. Bezkoff, dancing along, found the policeman on him almost before lie knew where he was. Then, indeed, did he set off at top speed for the railway station. He did not wish to bo lock_j .mipstiiins dealing with

ackctl. Of course, he felt sure that Sir John would hold his tongue; tut Mr Clair, being as venomous as a serpent, would surely make trouble. As a member of a secret society. Bezkoff wished to avoid examination and publicity, and cursed himself in his own beautiful language for thus having played with fire. And lie cursed the more as lie found himself unable to shake off Hobson, who pourfded along iiko a traction engine.

Worse than this, the constable called on several people they pissed to help him to catch the Russian; and shortly the cry of “Stop thief !” rang out loudly ou the still night air. By tho time tho crooked street of Beltan village was reached quite a score of people tore at Bezkoff’s heels, and he saw now that his plight was serious. It was impossible to go to the railway station, as lie would simply, bo arrested on the platform, and if he rail into the open country he would certainly be captured, since he did not know the lie of the land, and his pursuers could come up with him by side roads. It was necessary to seek shelter somewhere, and Bezkoff raced through the village and beyond it before any stir could be created. His pursuers were , a good distance behind, so now,’if at any time, was the moment to seek a harbor of

refuge. As luck would have it, Bezkoff passed by the Mint or cottage, and by‘chance Willy was loaning over the gate, waiting for Hallon and Billy, whom she expected back Horn London. The Count siw a pretty woman looking at him in amazement as to sprinted along; and, with an intui- 4 tion which almost amounted to genius, sworved aside in his course to leap the fence. Willy screamed. ( as well she might. Bezkoff rapidly ex-, plained, and gave his name. “Mr Clair wants to have me arrested for trespass,” he said, breathlessly, and with much gesticulation. - “They are after me—save me! I can put myself right in'your eyes. You are a woman! Save —ah!” His ejaculation was caused I j a sight of Hobson and his horde sweeping round the corner. .Before rhev could, catch sight of him, Bezkoff dropped behind the quickset hedge, which concealed him entirely f lOlll tho road, and clutched at Willy s dress. 0 “Save me!” he murmured. (To be Continued.).