OUR SERIAL STORY

Hawke's Bay Tribune, Volume I, Issue 107, 20 April 1911, Page 9

OUR SERIAL STORY

HER DEAREST WISH.

i (Continued.) I “She’s dead—murdered !" lie gaspied, with hanging under-up. “Mur- ; dered here—last night—in your rooms!” ) “My God!" cried Bobby. i T-li*# detective laid a hand on has Shoulder. ' “Mr Deane, I arrest you on a i charge of wilful murder.” ! Bobby turned his eyes upon him, | too stunned to speak ; but the elderly gentleman beside him said, with agi- ’ ration: > “There is some mistake. If nhe ! poor woman was murdered last night, | Mr Deone is certainly not- the crinii in>a.L; for he spent all last evening at nty house at Putney. He came to dine with two other gentlemen—also ; pupils of mine—and remained the ‘ night. I—the other guests, the ser- ; vants—can prove this. ’ i Che detective was staggered. ! “She came to see him. She was j found covered by your coat ." ; He indicated the fur coat, j ‘Mine! No!” said Hobby. j I'l to detective looked round sharply ; at the servants. j “Whose coat is this?” Ire asked. ! gently. f Jane gasped for breath. I “My master’s — Ixnd — Lord j Gaunt’s.” she said at last. | The detective frowned. ! “When did you see Lord Gaunt ! last ?” ho asked, quickly.

“Last night—about ten—he passed me in the corridor.” "He was here then?”

j She nodded spasmodically. ! “Yes; ILt him in.” ■ “Did ho wear that coat?” | She nodded, and fell to sobbing. ; “Yes; he came in it. He left with- [ out it; but—but if you think that I his lordship did it, you're wrong— I wrong! He couldn’t!” I The detective turned swiftly upon Morgan Thorpe. i “Did your sister know Lord j Gaunt?” lie asked. j Mor; ;an Thorjie got up and steadied j himself by the back of a chair. i “My God! it’s no use keeping it 'back!” he said, as if to himself., I “Gentlemen, my poor sister was— ) j was Lord Gaunt’s wile!” I “His wife? You described her as) ! Mrs Dalton!” • “She was his wife!” said Morgan, Thorpe, with a kind of dogged sullenness. "They—tliey wore separated. l

Ho left her. They must have met by accident hero last night.” One of the Scotland Yard officials drew the detective aside. “You’ve made a mistake tin’s time,” lie said, in a low voice. “The man j you want is this Lord Gaunt. Hurry j up! lou’ve lost a lot of time as it I is!”

CHAPTER NXNII. The detective was staggered, and lookwl round rather sullenly. His professional reputation was a high one, and ho felt his mistake acutely. “What hotel does Lord Gaunt use?” he asked of the servant. “He always goes to Morlet’s. when the rooms are being done up or he can’t sleep herti for any reason.” said Jane, weeping. “But it isn’t his lordship!” The detective left the loom and was driven to the hotel.

“G>rd Gaunt in?” he inquired carelessly of Wilkins.

“His lordship loft us early this morning, sir,” was the reply. The detectivo had quite expected this answer.

‘ Do you know where I can find him?” ho inquired as carelessly. Wilkins looked surprised. ‘His lordship sailed for Africa this morning,” he said. ‘‘The vessel must have started by this time-—wo sent his lordship’s luggage on .yesterday—to the Pevenscy Castle.” The detective nodded and bit his lip- Then lie stood for a moment pondering. Surely Lord Gaunt would not have boon such a fool as to shut himself up in a vessel which could be stopped by cable at Madiera.* ‘'Went in a cab, I suppose ?” he said. ‘Acs. sir—a hansom. His lordship only had a bag.” “Just so. Did you happen to hear what directions he gave to tl'.o cabman? I’ve got important business with his lordship and want to catch him liefore he starts, if I can.” “He said Charing Cross Station,” said Wilkins. “I happened to hear him.” The detective's face cleared. Of course, Gaunt would leave his luggage to go by the Cajx) vessel, and make for the Continent. The detective thought he saw the nir ve in an instant.

“I hanks.” he said, as he jumped into his cab and was driven Charing Cross. There he wired a description of Lord Gaunt to the police at Southampton and Dover, and instructed them to stop him. A continental train happened to he due. and the detetive, pretty well sure that he was on the track of the fugitive, went down to Dover by it. The Southampton telegram arrived exactly one hour after the Pcvensev Castle had sailed. Meanwhile the police at th< Mansions were gatering information from the servants and other persons, ami very soon the fact of Deci ma s visit on the previous evening came out Bobby was amazed and h<>rrdied. ■Acs. site is my sisu-r,"' <;.‘d. ‘“'ho r-.ust h've . s Jane says, the could m ■ me' to H'Cit I ord f, |- ;j, or h oi ventured to suggest tb ; .. Whore should we b«> iikily t find Mi'S Dcano?" he asked, significantly, j

I Bobby shook his head. He was j confused and bewildered. I “She may be with her aunt. Lady j Pauline Lascelles, or she may have | gone back home . I cannot undcri >tand. I will go round to Lady Paul- ‘ ine’s.

I The inspector nodded. i “Gue of my men w ill go round ■ with you,” he said, gravely. I Bobby started. “You—you don’t think—you don’t dare to suspect my sister?” lie be-

gan ; and the inspector responded, quietly; "Well, the young lady was here I last night, Mr Deane. I will ask you to see that she does not leave I Ixuidon just yet. She will be sure to j be wanted, you see.” ‘ I Bobby went round to Berkeley j Square, accompanied by a detective, , and Lady Pauline came down to the

drawing-room to them. “A terrible thing has happened, Aunt Pauline,” said Bobby, whose white fare and quivering lips had startled her. “A—a lady has been lound dead—murdered—in my—that is, Lord Gaunt’s—rooms, and—and—is Decima here?” “\es, she is here,” said Lady Pauline, gravely. “She is very ill with brain fever.” Bobby uttered an exclamation. “I must see her, Aunt Pauline; I must! They say—it is said that she was at my rooms last night, and—- [ and—”

I Lady Pauline’s strength of mind came to her aid. “In the rooms where this poor lady has been found?” she said. “Yes, 1 know that she went to .your rooms; the woman in charge of the house I told me so. But—” She stopped, struck silent by the expression of ] Bobby’s face. “Tell me all you can,” I she continued, gravely and calmly. ‘ Bobby, in hurried and agitated accents, told all he knew. I “It is dreadful to think, to suggest, j that Decima is mixed up in this!” jho said. “She cannot possibly know j anything about it. Oh, let me see I her!”

j “You may see her,” replied Lady j Paulino, “but you cannot learn anyj thing from her. She is quite unconI scions. Here is the doctor.” She heard his step coming down i the stairs, and called to him. “Miss Deane is ill, very ill,” lie said, quietly. “She may remain unconscious for some time, possibly for <lays. ou may see her, yes; you can do no harm. Bobby went up, and stood and gazcsl at the white face with the staring eyes, then he came down again and looked helplessly round him. “Me may as well go, sir,” said the detective. “Lady Pauline will let us know when Miss Deane is well enough to bo asked any questions.” J hey returned to Prince’s Mansions, and the detective made his report to a high official. He nodded gravely, and drew Bobby aside. “Miss Deane will be an important witness,” he said. “I may as well tell you, Mr Deane—mind, I don’t speak officially—that we do not suspect Miss Deane!” Suspect! ’ exclaimed Bobbv, indi'rnantly. " ’" e e : ;> <■:■>!■ r-iis< d his eyebrows, ‘‘d 'I ' w • J ■)«•, you see; and am on<> > 1t ... 51 , rooms last night inignt i..il hiHi, r suspicion; but it .-eems to me that the case against Lord Gaunt is as clear as noonday.” “Lord Gaunt!” cried Bobby, chokingly. “He is incapable of it!” Ihe inspector shrugged his shoulders.

“J hat’s what one so often thinks ” he answered. “However, we shall s<M>n see. Our man will have overtaken him by this time, 1 should think.”

They had removed the body, but Morgan Thorpe had still lingered. Lhe shock—and the brandv he had consumed—had rendered him a pitiable spectacle.

“Come—come home with me! Don’t leave me alone, Deane, for God’s sake.'” Im implored, clutching at Bobby’s arm, and quite forgetting his recent plot to rob him.

“I will see you home,” said Bobby, . passing his hand across his brow, i 1 don t know what to do, where to I turn. I ought to go home and tell ' niy father of all this—not that it | would be of any use—but 1 can’t I leave my sister. Yes, I will go home I with you.”

1 hey went to Cardigan Terrace, and Bobby looked round the familiar room uith a shudder; he could almost see the small, exquisitely dressed figure sitting at the piano. there was a letter on the manteland Morgan Thorpe took it up and opened the envelope with shaking lingers. But he- was incapable of I- ‘’ a di n g it, and ho held it out to Bobby.

Read it, Deane,” he said; and he made for the liquor stand on the side-board.

“It is from Trevor,” said Bobby; and he read the note aloud: “Dear Thorpe,—l feel very seedy, and shall run over to the Continent lor a change; may stay some time. I was sorry to hear that Mrs Dalton had a bad headache when I called to sa .V good-bye. I am starting in half an hour. I packed this morning. Always do things suddenly, don’t I? Remember me to Deane and all the rest —Yours, “Ralph Trevor.” Thorpe moaned in a maudlin way. • (To be Continued.)