LEVISON'S VICTIM.

Hawke's Bay Herald, Volume 14, Issue 1148, 29 April 1870, Page 3

LEVISON'S VICTIM.

(From "Belgravia.") (Concluded from last Hsbaxd.) " Had your agent any reason to identify this woman with Mrs. Levison ?*' . " None ; except the fact that Mrs. Levison was missing, and his natural habit of suspicion; The paragraph was nearly a raoutli old when it reached me. I set off at once for the place named, saw the' village authorities, and visited theEnglishwonian's grave. They showed me the dress she had vrorn, a black silk, very simply made. Her face had been too much disfigured by the fall, 'and the passage of: time that had occurred before the finding of the body, for them to give me any uiinUte. description of her appearance. They could only tell me that her hair was dark auburn,,the colour. of Laura's, thick and long ; aud that her figure was that of a young woman. - " Aj'fc£r' exhausting every, possible inquiry, I pushed on to the next village, and there received confirmation ofniy worst fears. A gentleman and his wife— a man of foreign' appearance, but talking English ; the woman young and beautiful —had stopped for a night at the chief inn of the place, and had left the next morn* ing without a guide. The gentleman, who talked German perfectly, told the' landlady * that his travel|ing«carriage and servants were to meet him at the nearest stage on the home journey. He knew every inch of the country, and wished to walk across the mountain, in order tor show his wife a prospect which had struck him particularly upon his last expedition a few years before. The landlady remembered that, just before setting out, he asked Lis wife some question about lier! watch, took it from her to regulate it, and then, after some peevish exclamation about her carelessness, put it into his waistcoat* : ' pocket. The lady was very pale and cjuiet, and seemed unhappy. 1 The .description^ which the woman gave me was only too like the woman J.was looking for., > fl And you believe there had been foul play?" ■-"■■-- ■" As certainly as I believe in my own existence. This man Levison had grown tired of a wife whose affection had never been his ; nay, more, I -have reason to know that his unresting jealousy had intensified into a kind of hatred of her some ; time before the end. From the village iuthe Tyrol, which they left together on tbhei bright October morning, I tracked ; th&r footsteps stage by stage back to the point; at which I had lost them on the Italian frontier. In the course of nay wanderings I I met with a young Austrian officer who had seen. them at Milan, and had ventured to pay the lady some frivolous harmless? attentions He told me that he had never

as Letison's 3eaiq.uay.; ;j not an open fury* but a eoncentratM Silent rkge, whicH gave an almost devilish, expression, to the man's parchment face/ He watched his wife like a lynx, and rdid: not allow her a moment's freedom^from. his presence. JJvery one 3S^h%i4&t tftfcttupifeLed the beautiful girlish oW^ft^uPlSft^usery Vas .so evident; every tyrant.' I found that the .sMfy;W ther servants" and 'the travelling , ©axrja^e^Xi-a's;, aVlie. The Levisons had A ,sj#j attended by no servants, at any of -„ tjitj hotelf where I heard of them, and had - travelled alwaysin public or in hired vehi- : clesk -.. ':The ultimate result, of my inquiries ;Jeft-4liel;iitilei doiibfc that the dead woman (^as jiaura Levison ; ' and from that hour ."■tp^tKis':l have been employed more or less 4ft the endeavor to find the man who murvd'ereH her.'/. : '*"_. .]: ':':' Anji y r ou have not been able to discover his i whereabouts ?" asked Frank Lorri-morev'-.;YJ ..-- :••- -■ ..J?' Not yet., lam looking for him." quest, Horace. What would be.;.thereßuit;of.your finding him? You havi 'no proof to offer of his guilt. You ;wo,uld: iiofc take the law into your own ftafedsP" - . I ' ; ■■■ '"'.'■ . the heaven above me, I would !" answered the other fiercely. ?'I would shoot that mao down with as little com;p'unption aS I would kill a inad dog." r:-< ''il^hopo -you' may never meet him," ,seid Fisrank solemnly. ! .^^Soraqe'Wy^wara gave n short, impatient sigh, aud paced the room for; some Mim ift silence. His share in Ithe 'breakig^tThadf!been/a mere pretence. -He had lemDtied vfiiaT coffee.cup, but hkd eaten ho : ;,r'!.liam going^back to London this after«doD, t FrahE" • . •..:•;' -Mil On'the hunt for this man P" c4"tS^s.';;'J!ily agent sent me a description of himself Lewis, a bill-dis-c6^nl»rj.who has 'lately set up an office in tnet'cityy and whom I believe to be Michael lie'yis'on^'- :;:'. '.' \ _■-" •■*'". r pccupied by Mr. Lewis, the bill«discounter, was a dismal place enough, consisting of a fldor in a narrow allpy called ,S.t; Guinevere's-lane. Horace himself at this office, abouta. week after his i arrival in London, in; the character of in difficulties^ f^^-/ ■■/":-/ ■'■"' ' -,'".-. '■-■-' • &«He;foan4:^ r - £ewis exactly the kind of tisane h|e expected to see j a man of .about 6D^with small crafty black, eyes shining oit£ibf a' sallow^ visage that was as dull and lifeless aas -a" parchment , mask, thin lips wathmeruel expression, and a heavy jaw and Bony chin that betokened no small amount ;of -power for evil. presented himself under hiaowh name ; . on hearing .which the billdisecmnteiMooked, up at him , suddenly with 'an exclamation of surprised x";j3sou:know my name ?" said Horace. •i#\sses ;I havie heard your name before. Jj 't&oughfcyou were a- rich man." 4f"'.l>shWe>a 'good estate, but I have been rather fimprudent,,aud: am short of ready uioney:;/ ;When md where did you hear iny.hamevMr. Lewis?" . . '-^I.^on^} remember, that. The name sound*; familiar to me,, that is all." '- '^But, you have heard of me as a rich ma,ni yowsay P" «il . had an impression to that effect: But the ''"circumstances under which I heard the ijaine have quite escaped my xaempry/^i .- ', ' -,-> '" • . . pushed the question no further. He played his, cards v,ery carefully, leading the .usurer to .believe jthafc he had secured ' a profitable prey, The preliminaries of ; a- lpari were discussed, but nothing" fully settled ; atfd before leaving, Horace Wyn ward invited Mr. Lewis to dine; with,, him at his lodgings, in the neighbourhood; of Piccadilly, on the following Evening. "After a few minutes' reflection Lewis accepted, the invitation. ,vfle made his appearance at the appointed hptiri dressed; in a, suit of shabby black, in Which his sallow complexion looked more i&aij'usuallj parchment-like and ghastly. Thejioor was opened by Horace Wynward in person, and the money -lender was surprised tp find himself in an almost empty house, [In the ' hall and on the staircase there Jwere.no signs of occupation whatever.;; bui in .the dining-room, to which Horace ushered his guest, thjer^waß,a fable ready laid for dinner, a couple of .chairsi.and a dumb-waiter loaded Tfjth; th^_ appliances of the meal. The rftom, was'- dimlj lighted by four waxcandlesina tarnished candelabrum. i;Jftr.f ; LewiSi : the, money-lender, looked round .him with a: shudder; there was something sinister in the aspect of the room. " It jj rather a dreary -looking place, I'm afraid??, said Horace Wynward. "I've only just taken the house, you see, and have had in aifew sticks of hired furniture to keep me going till I make arrangements with an Upholsterer. T Bui you'll excuse all short-comings, I'm sure — bachelor fare, you know." . * , ' . , r ".Irthotight you said; you were in lodgmgß,JM.r. Wynward." asked the other absently; 'V^tnerejslip.pf the tongue. I took this hqUseonlease a week.ago, 1 and am going to t f urnish'it as soon as I am in funds. ' ' ajtelypu. positively alone here?" inquired Mr;, Lewis rather, suspiciously. V-Well^ very nearly so. There is a cliarr woman;, somewhere a the. depths beltijv f as. deaf ! a's a postand almost as usePut 'you needn't be frightened aqout y|bur ; dinner ; I had it from a confectioner in Piccadilly." " 3 'He lifted the cover of the soup-tureen aa h© spoked: The visitor seated himself at the table with rather a nervous air, and glanced : more ,than once in the direction of rthe shutters closely fastened with heavy bars. • He began to think there was something alarmingly eccentric in the conduct and manner of his host, and was inclined td repent havftig accepted the invitation, profitable as his new client "promised to ra.* :•'■"■',. -"'■•. : ';" ':. ■ •■ . The: dinner was excellent ; the wines of the first quality jandafter drinking somewhat freely, Mr, Lewis began to be better recpncded n t 6; his position. He was a little disconcerted,, however, in perceiving that his hogt scarcely touched either the viands or;tbe wine, and that those deep-set grey eves-weif.Jifted every now and then to lias fatfe w.ith a strangely, observant look. "V^h^'dinne^ was over, Mr. Wynward heaped the dishes on the dumb-waiter, wheeled .it into the next room with his o.wa h^nds, and came :back to his seat at ihftjfcAble'dDpbsite the bill-discounter, who safcmeditatively sipping his claret. ■•_ e ?iJ[ojrac^,filled][his ; glass, J but remained for apmbsima,o\\eiib, without once lifting it to iSsi lips./ <'His :;j companion watched him nervouslyy everyj moment, more impressed tfith the belief -.that _ there was something Trrong in his new client's mind, and bent : Qn^inaking^li speedy escape. He finished his claret, looked^ at his watch, and rose .:">/%£* £jblun£.^-must wish you goodnight, :!^.;^yjciward..jl am .a.man of early habits;: and have some distance to go. My Ip3gpg;?jsf ; ! at. -Brpmptoni more than an hp'!ttr's.ride!^^om Jiere/': >;•;., = ; Horace, ; "we have not ;; lj^«jibiis,inpßS:yefei : It^s only nine o'clock. I I^totaiiAducslquiet talk with you — Mr. r^B^Boni"jVt'^'^^: ! ;'' ;^- ;; ™' ' -■''■ ~~"- ; . ' : : : %^^ibUl-digcounter'B face changed. It ■was almost impossible forthat palSd mask ■5^ #jp«o|m9»t;to gtow palerj but a sudden

ghastliness came over the man's evil countenance. "My name is Lewis," he said, with an artificial gviu. •-"Lewis, or Levison. Men of your trade have as many names as they please. When you were travelling in Switzerland two years ago, your name was Levison; when you married Laura Daventry, your name was Levison." " You ai*e under some absurd mistake, sir. The name of Levison is strange to me." " Is the name of Daventry strauge lo you too ? You recognised my name yesterday. When you first heard it, I was a happy man, Michael Levison. The blight upon me is your work. O, I know you well enough, and am provided with ample means for your identification. I have followed you step by step upon your travels -—tracked you to the inn from which you set out qne October morning, nearly a year ago, with a companion who was never seen alive by mortal eyes after that date. You are a good German scholar, Mr. Levison ; read that." Horace Wynward took out of his pocketbook the paragraph cut from the German Eaper, and laid it before his visitor. The ill-discounter pushed it away after a hasty glance at its contents. " What has this to do with me ?" he asked. "A great deal, Mr. Levison. The hapless woman described in that paragraph was once your wife : Laura Daventry, the girl I loved, and Mrho returned my love ; the girl whom you basely stole from me by trading on her natural affection for a weak unworthy father, and whose life you made wretched, until it was foully ended by your cruel hand. If I had stood behind you upon that lonely mountain pathway in the Tyrol, and had seen you hurl your victim to destruction, I couldnot be more convinced than I am that your arm did the deed ; but such crimes as these are difficult — in this case perhaps impossible — to prove, and I fear you will escape the gallows. There are other circumstances in your life, however, more easily brought to light ; and by the aid of a clever detective I hav^e made myself master of some curious secrets in your past existence. I know the name you bore some fifteen years ago, before you settled in Trinidad as a merchant. You were at that time called Michael Lucas, and you fled from this country with a large sum of money, embezzled from your employers, Messrs. Harwell and Oliphant, sugarbrokers in St. Nicholas-lane. You have been ' wanted' a long time, Mr. Lsvison ; but you would most likely have gone scotfree to the end, had I not set my man to hunt you and your antecedents." Michael Levison rose from his seat hastily, trembling in every limb. Horace rose at the same moment, and the two , men stood face to face — one the very image of craven fear, the other cool and selfpossessed. " This is a tissue of lies ! " gasped Levison, wiping his lips nervously with a j handkerchief that fluttered in his tremu- j lous fingers. " Have you brought me here to insult me with this madman's talk?" "I have brought you here to your doom. There was a time when I thought that if you and I over stood face to face, I should saoot you down like a dog ; but I have changed my mind. • Such carrion as you are not worth the stain of guilt upon an honest man's hand. It is useless to tell you how I loved the girl you murdered. Your savage nature would not comprehend any but the basest and most selfish passion. Don't stir another step — I have a loaded revolver within reach, and shall make an end of you if you attempt to leave this room. The police are on the watch for you outside, and you will leave this place for a gaol. Hark ! what is that? " It was a footstep on the stai?s outside, a woman's footstep, and the rustling of a silk dress. The dining-room door was a-jar, and the sounds were very audible in the bare, empty house. Michael Levison made for the door, availing himself of this momentary diversion, with some hope of escape, but within a few paces of the door he recoiled suddenly with a hoarse gasping cry. The door was pushed wide open by a light band, and a figure stood upon the threshold — a girlish figure dressed in black silk, a pale sad face framed by dark auburn hair. " The dead returned to life 1 " cried Levison. "Hide her, hide her 1 I can't face her ! Let me go ! " - He made for the other door, leading intq the inner room, but found it looked, and_ then sank cowering down into his chair, covering his eyes with his skinny hands. The girl came softly into the room, and stood by Horace Wynward. "You have forgotten me, Mr. Levison," she said ; " and you- take me for my sister's ghost. I was always like her, and they .say I have grown more so within the last two. years. We had a letter from you a month ago, posted from Trinidad, telling us that my sister Laura was well and happy there with you— yet you mistake me for the shadow of the dead !" * The frightened wretch did not look up. He had not yet recovered from the shock produced by his sister-in-law's sudden appearance. The handkerchief which he held to. his lips was stained with blood. Horace Wynward went quietly to- the outer door and opened it, returning presently with two men, who came softly iata. the room and approached Levison. He made no attempt to resist them as they slipped a pair of handcuffs on his bony wrists, and led him away. Tl><*ve was a cab standing outside ready to convey him to prison. Emily Daventry sank into a chair as he was taken from the room. " O Mr. Wynward," she said, " I think there can be little doubt of voj sister's wretched fate. The experiment which you proposed has succeeded only too well." Horace had been down to Devonshire to question the two girls about their sister. He had been struck by Emily's likeness to his lost love, and had brought her up to London with him, in order to identify Levison by her means, and to test the effect which her appearance might produce upon the nerves of the suspected assassin. The police were furnished with a complicated mass of evidence against Levison in his character of clerk, merchant, and bill-discounter ; but the business was of a nature that entailed much delay, and after several adjourned examinations the prisoner fell desperately ill of a heart-disease from which he had suffered for years, but which grew much worse during his imprisonment. Finding his death certain, he sent for Horace Wynward, and to him confessed his crime, boasting of his wife's death with a fiendish delight in the deed, which he called an act of vengeance against his rival. "I knew you well enough when you came home, Horace Wynward," he said, " and I thought it wpuld be my happy lot to compass your ruin. You trapped me, but to the last you have the worst of it. The girl you love is dead.- . She dared to tell me that she loved you; defied my anger ; told me that she had sold herself to me to save her father from disgrace, and confessed that she hated, and had always hated me. . I was goaded to madness by her tears. . i. She used to say your name in her sleeph I wonder I did. not cut her throat as she lay there with the

name upon her lips. But I. must have swung "or that. So I was patient, and waited till I could b«ve her alone with me upon the mouutums. It was only a push, and she was gone. I came home alone, free from the worry and fever of her presence — except in my dreams. She has haunted them with her pale face and the one long shriek that went up to the sky as she fell." He died within a few days of this interview, and before his final trial could take place. Time, that heals almost all griefs, brought peace by and bye to Horace Wynward. He furnished the house in May fair, and for some time led a misanthropical life there j but on paying a second visit to Devonshire, where the two Daventry girls lived their simple industrious life in their aunt's school, ho discovered that Emily's likeness to her sister made her very dear to him, and in the following year he brought a mistress to Orofton in the person of that young lady. Together they paid a mournful visit to that lonely spot in the Tyrol where Laura Levison had perished, and stayed there while a white marble cross was erected above her grave.