A MAYFAIR MYSTERY

Hawke's Bay Tribune, Volume III, Issue 189, 26 July 1913, Page 2 (Supplement)

A MAYFAIR MYSTERY

Grand Dramatic Story of X.ove, Intrigue and High. Society.

The copyright of this magnificent Story has been specially secured for publication in our columns. The author is Mr. J. B. HARRIS BURLAHD.

Author of “Workers in Darkness,’’ “The House of the Soul,’’ “The Gold Worshippers, Life s Golden Web,’’ etc., etc. The Story is profusely illustrated and will enthrall the reader right from the start.

CHAPTER IV.

* lt’<» n.> good mincing matters, mother,” said Lord Champeimowne; 5.X‘ e SiZ Xwer house, and I shall take chambers ’ Q “ t My dear boy, you talk as if we were shall be ruined if we don’t quiet down a bit,” said the young man sternly “ Now, mother, dear, I don t want u,’ bother your head with figures but you really must understand the' Please sit down, and I 11 make it clear tO La<Py Champernowne, drixsedma magnificent gown by Paquin, and glittering with diamonds, seated herself in a chair at the table and sighed wearily. From the distance came the low strains of a band and the sonorous notes ot a well-known tenor, who had been procured at an enormous fee to entertain liord Champernowne’s guests. short of a disaster could have dragged her from the concert-room at such a moment. But the disaster bad occurred. The new s of a serious financial loss had been brought down by the family lawver who had travelled fast, like the bearers of all bad news, in a fifty-horse-power car. “It is too tiresome, she said. and just at this time. We can’t afford Garanto every night.” •’ We can’t afford him at all,” Lord Champernowne said, sharply, and his mother started at the tone of his voice. He had never spoken like that to her before. She had noticed a change in him all day—long before the news arrived. He had been irritable at lunch, positively rude to some of the guests at ♦he garden-party, sullen and morose at dinner, and now he had spoken in a roue that had all the effect of a blow. ” My dear boy,” she said, “ you aro not well. I wish you'd let me send for Dr. Staines to-morrow. You’ve been out of sorts all day.”

" Oh. I’m well enough," he answered, with a smile. “ I’m only worried— this business. We’ve dropped one hundred thousand pounds in that rotten mme. The news came after Stock Exchange hours, and old Carthek had it f»oi> p private and reliable source. It’ll f>e in all the morning papers. Tho shares are not worth a penny apiece.” They’ve paid ten per cent, for two years.’’

• Yes; that is why I was tempted to invest in them.” Ijady Champernowne looked at her s>*n gratefully. It was generous of him net to remind her that he had only bought the shares because she never gave him a moment’s peace till he had pin chased them. ’* A hundred thousand pounds,” he repeated : “ that brought in ton thout'v’n poands a J’ Mr - !t’s a bad Joss. Well, now I want yon to understand how much we have left.” “ About a nundr.ri thousand and tho estate, dear,” she said, quickly. “ I sevec: fortv thousand for you durine your minority.”

I'hnt is just what I have left,” he ii.im, writing the figures down on a piece of paper. “ At throe »er cent, that 1 nngs in twelve hundred pounds a year.”

A look of fear ranq. into the roman's eyes. and. leaning forward, she laid one M u , te ’ hands on the boy’s Mnck ji’eero. J o~i at r \ h t °L h<?r s,xty thousand askcJ ’ in a w ’ his P«rnon ®° n he broke in. harshly, " every penny of ,t_ in amusements and Jack! I mn . t I)dieve W’^r I l“Li t ® my d<K » r mother. b lT n bnrnin £ both ends of the ran 41 < \ t,le »s'** , : nd and tho **“l- The U D has burnt fast.” But the estate. Jack v haven’t counted that.” ’ ' A ° U k™ l j’C W °- th countin ff- A s vou ,-™7' ,fc br >n-. in very little more than it costs to keep up. There’s five hnnS * k ear »^ l tl,e ’. nside - Add tf >at to Jred U and J° U g{?t P’fi !* wbM wo shall have, o wiM /i* ' at * ?' our p hargo on tho estate wiH take a thousand.”

Lcdy Champornowne dotted down the fiffarwiand c hOcked them with a pencil. rhe forty thousand pounds is paving eight per cent..’’ she said after ‘n trig silence. “ That is over three thousand pounds a year.”

- 1 shall sell out at once. I’ve had one lesson. Now you oan see the change in our position, can’t you? Seventeen hundred* year and we’v o had over •itteem thousand a ye*r. At one time we had over twenty thousand a vear Is it all quite clear bi you ? ”

•I. ' Y’T’- -l-’-'.-k. dear.” she answered, and then she smiled. •’ You must make a good marriage, dear," she said, in a lowvoice. “ You know the dearest wish- of my heart, ion have only to ask. Mamie i s very fond of you. We sit here talking with wry faces about the 1«® of a fewthousands. When Mamie Worcester came of age, her father spent fifty thousand pounds on the festivities’ That wm al! money thrown into the fire." rio«7 cannot marry for money, mother near, and vou know that.” must*'" " T ° U mUSt ’ Jack —you

-and^nd 1 ? I!r<> nietl , v —s°u on a thou- ■ nd ft d J seren indeed a year—t£? fcl- ' a ° rP th<m that * « e let w^^Li? a ™ f T rnOwn<? was silent. She debt tJui'f ™ v”t a h\‘i el ’^ a & »'to vnr fk,. I * -arranged at on re She w£ that she must strike while the irX “Your p-lnic:,! J,..,. in a Jmv voice “ If von'rr ’ you must give money to the ” lon must be somebody if you want. pie to listen to you."’ ant P^ _ L ° Wl (2ulrD P f, rnow ne shook hia head.

That was not at all his idea of the way to achieve success. “ We must let the place, he said, fiercely, " and live quietly for some

" C ” l And what then. Jack? What does the future hold for us? Ho you expect to save enough to enable us to live here again? The land is hardly likely to increase in value. The outlook is hopeless.” “ We must cut our eoat according to the cloth, mother, dear.” Ladv Champernowne buried her face in her arms and began to cry. She could cry very prettily when she chose. Her son rose to his feet and laid a hand upon t.er quivering shoulder. “ We roust make the best of things, little mother, he said, tenderly. “It will not he so bad, after all. The dowerLouse is a pretty little place.” Lady Champernow ne looked up at her .son. Her face was white, and there were tears in her eyes. But she was one of those women who can cry without disfiguring her beauty. “ I must have money,” she said, in a broken voice. “ 1 have had it all my life, and cannot do without it. I love pleasure and pretty frocks and big houses, and all that money can buy. You know that. Jack, dear; you know your poor mother’s weakness by now. I would rather be dead than be poor. Life in the dower-house on a thousand a year is impossible for mo. lam a weak, foolish woman, not a brave, strong man like you, Jack.” “ And you wish mo to marry Mamie Worcester? " he said, quietly.

There was no reproach in his tone, but the words themselves, were an accusation. Lady Champernowne .roso to her feet and steadied herself by placing one hand on the edge of the table. I not wish you to sacrifice yourself, Jack,” she replied. “ There is another way out of the difficulty. I can marry again.” “ You mother? You marry? ”

“ Ye?, my dear boy, why not? There are half-a-dozen men who have asked me to marry them. There was one —I cared lor—just a little—but .my place was with you; you were only fifteen at tho time. He is married now.” She paused and there* was a troubled look in tho young man’s eyes. It had never occurred to him that his mother had refund offers of marriage in order to live with him at Maiden Tolhurst. “ You are my own dear boy, ’ she continued. placing her hands upon his shoulders and looking un into his face. “ Wo have been all in all to each other, and I have never wanted anyone else. You have been so kind, so generous, so sweet to me.” Ho bent his head and kissed her. ■ Yon must not marry, mother, dear, unless there is anyone ” “ There is no one, I care for,” she broke in, quickly; “but there is ft very rich man who would marry me. Ho you’d settle a hundred thousand pounds on me, ami as much again on you and vonr heirs if I insisted.” ‘ " Who is it? ” he asked, fiercely. “ Boanerges Scott.” “That man? Good heavens, you re

faking! ” ” Yes. Boanerges Scott, the company promoter.” ” Where did vou meet the brute? ” •' I’ve met him often —on business.’’ “On business, mother? You don't mean that ” ■’ Certainly. He has been very kind to me. He has lent me money.” “ How much do you owe him? I’ll pay him off to-morrow, if it takes every penny I've got.” Lady Ghampernowne walked away : from her son and. resting her arms on ' ihe mantelpiece, gazed down at the fire. ; “ How much do you owe the beast? ” , repeated the young man. ' " Eighty thousand pounds!” said • Lady Champernownc, without turning her head. " Eighty — thousand — pounds! ’’ the ' young man repeated pausing between , each word. “ Merciful heavens! You are joking, mother —making fun of me.” I Lady Champernowne did not move or * spoak. Her son looked at her, his face ; white with fear. Ids hands clenching ; and nnelenoh’ng nervously. ! “ Eighty thomnnd pounds! ” he whis- | r-cred. mif speaking to himself. “To ‘ that brute! ” : The woman’s shoulders quivered; in ! the silence the young man heard a sob j

—a low, choking cry or acspan. ow hard look died away trom his face and he rose to his feet. . Mother, dear,” he said, coming to her side and laying his hand upon her shoulder. “ Dear little mother —wo must set this straight.” She turned and flung her arms round hl -‘Taik, my dear boy,” she sobbed, “ I ought to have told you —before —when I first did wrong. Oh. Jack, and you have been so good, so sweet to me 1 have no one but you in the world. “ We’ll see this through,” he said, bravely. I'll wager we can put it all right." But you must tell me all about it. Don't cry, mother, dear. That hurts me more than anything. Come, let us talk it over quietly.” Lady Champernowne made an effort to control herself, and dabbed at her eyes with an expensive lace handkerchief. A minute later she was sufficiently calm to tell her story—the pitiful story that has been told by many a woman before her. “ It began four years ago,” she said, in a low voice, “ when I met Scott at the Tanker tons. I was hard up for money, and the bankers would not let me have any. Scott told me of a. good thing on rhe Stock Exchange—you know these men have always some thing that they will give away to a woman who can get them into society.” “I know,” interrupted the young man, grimlv. “ Shares they wish to unload.” “ Oh, no. dear ; this was a really good thing—or Scott thought it was.” “ And it wasn’t? ” ' “ No ; there was some other group- of financiers—enemies of Scott’s : they got tho upper hand and banged the shares down. I lost ten thousand pounds as easily as one can lose twenty at bridge. Scott—he isn’t a bad-hcartod chap—said he’d see me through. He offered me the money as a present, but of course I couldn’t take that, so he made it a lean." CHAPTER IV. (continued). “ You were right there,” said Lor# Champernowne. “One doesn’t take pro scuts from men like Boanerges Scott—especially if one is a woman.” “ It was quite a business transaction,” Lis mother continued. “ I thought it host that jt should b P so. He made nothing of it, and siaid that he’d soon put me on to something th.it'd set the matter straight. and give me money in Try pocket besides.” She paused and, resting her chin on her hands, stared at the' carpet. Her hp was quivering, and she was obviotudy on the verge of tears. needn't go on, mother.” said Lord Champernowne, quietly. “ I can guess the rest of the storv. ‘ That good thing went wrong, and then another, and so on. She nodded. “ Six times,” she said, m a low voice. " f nun< l a H the money? ’’ les—every penny of it.” u ®‘ vo him anything in writ- “ Ye-es.” “ What? ” promissory notes, or whatever jou call them.” « ir 1 " 1 \° u ’ve renewed them P ” Te-as.” “ He did not offer to destroy them—to give you the money? Lady Champernowne wa s silent, Thon she shivered and covered her face with her hands. He did offer to destroy them”” ho queried. ”On conditions? ” . } es if I would promise to mairv him.”

The brute! That was his gamo all along—to get you into his power. I dare say the money wasn’t lost at al] He has probably stolen it.” “ Sri, aacx. I dealt through my own broker—after that first deal. The man ,s honest.” *■ He’s a scoundre.l! ” cried the young man, clenching hi s fists. him to me; I’ll deal with him. Have you paid him any interest on the money? ” Nona.” ” VVas any payable? ” Lord Champernowne walked un and down the room, his lips tightly pressed together, his hands clasped behind his back. Then he paused by the mantelpiece and, leaning against it. looked fixechy at his mother’s tear-stained face. • Boes he threaten to sue vou ? ” ho asknu. U 1 <lo n't minrrv him.” When are th« bills due?” In a fortnight’s time.” ' A . f " rtn ’S ht? , . A h. well, that gives 115? fl Tlftlo h *ylvi Ttn

us a little breathing space. 131 go to to « n ' and see him?’ . 1 ■ Avi. Can yOU do ‘ Jack moancu. What can vou do s ” “ Brighton him—threaten him with exposure.” > onl - v lau £h at you. Y’mi don’t know the man. Jack. He wants his monev or its equivalent.” Ln .*J Ore tl } an its , mother,” i Imiie an attem - nt * i r;> ; i • ? ?'- n t you fforrT about it i !celm: ai hr t L il,m ’ + A man ' lik - that: i stand-thee^oTure^ 0 C ° uldn t ' could lo T?t’ W n tan i :t Wter khan 1 ,n rr -. f i ' L?' . But the, money must bo re pa -d-somehow. I ve had every penny stocked £{ amn , e . rn <™ frowned and stroked hi s chin thoughtfullv mother T'u'vKi- 'T’L. -• * -tiis Mnt. W I--0..... s jx s? “’rs; *° t »r -d, ofTi, “«» betIf you can find 1 it. Jack T’ m appeals will b e useless a s throats nerges grott «, a man of sdm.ro that «rt of man-iu’

stract. But the concrete example is too hateful for words. He is like a like a» ciiiinon-ball crashing into a chma-shop. Wc arg pretty little pieces of china you and I. Jack.” , n 1 nope I'm not, mother, he lauglied. “ Perhaps Im fragile as yet, but <n time to come —well, we shall see. For a tew moments there was silence; then from the distance came the eouna of Caranio’s golden voice, striking a stiau <T e note <>i romance amid the sortliu. horroi of their thoughts. Lady Champernowne rose to her feet. “ 1 must get hack to them, she said, hurriedly. " People will wonder what on earth has happened. Jack, liovv do I look—as if something dreadful had happened ? Can 1 stand the glare of tne lights? ” Ho looked at her steadily You aie all right, mother, dear, he said, quietly. “ I don’t think they will notice anytiiifg. ' It they do they will put it down to Caranio’s singing. 1 saw one woman weep during his last song. She came up to him and put her jewelled bauds on his shoulder. “ You think me hard and thoughtless," she said in a low voice. “ But I must go back to my guests.” t ” Of course, mother, dear, ’ ho aiiswetccl, with a smile. “ That goes without saying. 1 will join you in a few utiniitos.’* •' Kiss me, Jack, dear, she wlnspci-

Ile bent his head and kissed her, holding her face between his hands. “ Run along, little mother,” he said, eheetfully. And don’t worry about me. I hope to bo able to fight my own liatties and vours as well.” He watched her graceful figure move slowly towards the door, saw her turn and kiss her hand to him, and then he flung himself into a chair and lit a cigarette. ” Mamie Worcester,” he said to himself, as he leant back and closed Ins eyes. The girl’s name had been often m his thoughts, almost on his lips, since hie. mother had told him of her debt. He knew, too, that it had been in his mother’s mind; she had said that the most earnest wish of her heart was that he should marry the American heiress. Eighty thousand pounds would not be a very serious debt when one had au income of two hundred and fifty thousand

a. year. There would be settlements — tLarriage settlements. Worcesiei tad spoken openly ef the settlements she would wake on the man she mar- ” The money must be paid—somehow. " These words echoed and re-echoed in his biain. Theto was no getting away from that solid fact, 'lhe money would liave to be paid. It could not bp raised on the estate. It was unthinkable that his mother —his beautiful, tenderly-fashion-eu mother —should marry Boanerges Scott. There was only Mamie Worcester. She alone stood between the family and shamviul rum. His thoughts turned to Diana Kenyon, who had refused to marry him, who had saa 1 . that she did not care for him well enough to marry him, and would many i.c on e who had not done some real work ir. the world. It might be years before lie w as ever in the jrosition to marry at ail Eighty thousand pounds was a tei , tbie burden, and, piled on the top of the losses over the Ureat Calabar Mmemeant complete ruin. The forty thousand pounds would have to go, and there would only be the estates left. They brought in five hundred a year.

Hum! The result of a woman’s extravagances and a woman’s folly! Yet Lord Chanipernowne was so devoted to his mother that he could not think harshly of her. He regarded her as a victim in the hands of an unscrupulous scoundrel. Absolutely unselfish, he did not even reproach her for the wreck of his own topes and ambitions. H o knew now that he would be crippled from the start, that his success, if it ever came, would tie entirely the result of his own cneigies. He would owe nothing to fortune, end, although it would be pleasant to think of that when he had won the balt’e, yet with the fight still before him it was like being deprived of a powerful weapon on the eve ot the conflict. Bui even in his thoughts h e did not reproach his mother for this. She had been foolish, but her weakness was that of her sex, and in the hands of a man like Boanerges Scott she would be as helpkss as a child.

“ I must strike at the man,” he said to himself; ” keen him from flying nt our throats for a little while.” Ho sat there tdl long after the guests had departed and the last song had died n'Aay into silence. But the shadows only deepened the house grew still—deepened until there was no light in the dai kness.

CHAPTER V. T’oanerge s Scott sat alonp in the hbrary of his great house in Curzon Street. Outside the onen window tha wind swirled in the branches of the few stunted trees which Lay between the tall, square building and the wrought-iron railings that shut off the grounds from the street, '’’he roar of traffic wa s continuous—a dull, ugly sound that would have driven a dweller in the country to the verge of madness .but which ’was part and parcel of a Londoner’s life Boanerges -Scott was a big man with a rugged, clean-shaven face. He had never been good-looking, even in the days of his youth, when he had lived the healthy, open-air life of a farmer’s sou and his mind had been vexed bv no greater financial problems than the price f butter ' / L nd now ' whG n his fate had been scarred by many a terrible conflict and Ids character warned bv a continued effart to get the better of his cou " ten « n «e was singutoA l u 1 an< l un P lp asant. It would I, to to' to”"’? bee ? ah «>lutely ronulsiv; bat tor the fine, clear grev eves and +b« P 7farn U of f hT m ° Uth and , n of bumWe parentage, and edufnnto- ln n gnm hou sehold of religious fanat.es, Boanerges Scott w as „ em? himtff Tv P hlive, Jid “tillVyS

the wind-swept tableland of the Cotswold Hills, and there was as little in i-onir.'.on between his methods of thought or h>-« Code of morality and those of his patents as there was between their hi rmfaouse and his splendid palace in Cui'ton Stieet. They regarded him as a lost soul and would not touch a penny of the money he offered them. He lookeu upon them as simple and foolish folk, crazy about their religion and blind, to the real meaning of life. For one thing only he thanked them, and that was

something for which most people would have been grateful. He was pleased with the name they had given him and was superstitious enough to think that ;t was in some measure responsible tor ins extraordinary success. There are not many men who would have «£ned to be chnstened Boanerges, even if they had twen born during one of the most terrifde and destructive thunderstorms which had ever visited the West of England. . ~ It was half-past nine m the evening, an hour at which most men are resting or amusing themselves after dinner. But ttie big mahogany desk in front of Boanerges Scott was littered deep wdh papers, and he was hard at work. j,iis large, sprawling handwriting had covered many sheets with words and figuies, a cigar between his lips had gone out, h.'s liligers were smeared with ink, and there was a black stain on his glossy shirt-fiont. It was clear that he was quite engrossed in what he was doing. Then suddenly the door opened and a slim, pasty-faced young man strolled into the room. Halloa, father!” he drawled. “Still at it? ”

“ Yes, still at it,” the financier answered, without turning his head. The young man flung himself into the armchair, took out a jewelled cigarettecase, and lit a large, gold-tipped cigarette. Then he looked at the back of the grim figure at the desk and smiled conleiuptuojsly. It seemed to him foolish that a millionaire should work so hard. For ter. minutes there was silence, and then Evelyn Scott lit another cigarette, ’l he sound of the striking of the match seemed to remind his father of his presence, for the financier wheeled round in his chai.". “ Want anything? ” he asked, quietly. “ Yes. father —I want some money.” “ Money? You had your monthly allowance last week.” “ Yes. I know; but I’d like a little more. I’ve had an awful lot of expenses lately.” Boanerges Scott took out his chequebook. It was one of his weaknesses that he could refuse his son nothing. Ho idolized the boy, and had pampered and spoilt him from childhood. It was perhaps owing to this indulgence that Evelyn had grown up to be an insufferable cad. “ How much, Evelyn?” queried the financier. “ Oh, fiftv'll do, father.” “ Stir-? ” “ 'Well, a hundred would be better.* 1 Boanerges Scott wrote out a cheque for a hundred pounds, blotted it, and handed it to his son. The young man glrrired at it and pjaoed it in his pocket.

” 1 'm a lucky fellow,” he said, with a laugh. “ There are not many chaps who Lave got such a father.” ” 1 like you to spend money on yourself,” said tho financier, “ but I don’t like you to waste it. As long as you get good value, spend as much as you like. But if I ever your lieing rooked hy sharps and hangers-on I’ll keep yon within your allowance.” ” Oh, I can look after myself,” said the young man, rising to h’is feet and yawning. “ There aren’t many that can get money out of me.” “ What are you doimr to-night? ” “ Oh, nothing much.” “ .!]_ y OU might stay here, wall vou ? ” “ Why? ” “ Someone is coming to see me, and

I’ve got to go round to Higson’s in five minutes’ time. I’d like someone to be IVho is it? ” " Lord Champernowne. You know him, don’t you ? ” “ Yes, and can’t bear him. A stuckup prig.” “ Well, I dare say you can be pleasant to him for half an hour. I asked him to come at a quarter-past ten. He is the sort of man who takes offence easily. He’d he quite likely to go off in a huff if he found no one in at that time.” Oh, well, if I must, I must. But I can hardly be civil to the chap. Now, his mother —she's a rippin’ little worn an.”

“ Oh, you like her, do you? ” Yes, she’s my sort—plenty of go.” Boane-rges Scott smiled grimly and began to put away the papers on‘his desk. He was a man with whom neatness was

almost a passion. By the time he had finished the mahogany desk wits bare, sale for the silver inkstand, a tray of pens, and some books of reference. “ I don’t suppose 1 shall be back till nearly eleven.’-' he said, closing the door of the steel safe, which stood in one corner of the room. “ The servants need not sit up. I will let myself in.” “ Oh, all right; but 1 don’t believe tn pampering servants myself — they’re t.ever grateful.” “ 1 like mme to get up early in tne morning,” the financier replied. “ And atiok here, Evelyn, you must please be i cry civil to Lord Champernow ne. They can be very use! al to us.” “ 1 shouldn’t have thought it, but you know your own iilans best. Oh, yea, I’ll be civil enough. 1 daresay we’ll have a game of billiards till you come back.” (To be continued.)