Hound's Pasture

Manawatu Times, Volume XLIX, Issue 3336, 3 May 1926, Page 10

Hound's Pasture

ws' t/frjcetai" CoYiiierl" ' **

CHAPTER XXVIII. A STUDY IN CONFLICTS,

Ghostly monk and the fearsome shape of the hound that haunted the pasture, both —in the moment of the mummy’s swiflt dissolution —vanished. . . vanished not as a flame vanishes, or as a shadow, but as the fading away of a pile of loose sand under wind where tho sea is near. They slipped away to nothingness strangely and weirdly enough as had the firm corpse of Thorrold, the elder, gone down to its primary matter. . . .dust. Thorrold had realod up to a buttress of oak and stood livid and gasping, looking at the stand that they had occupied. Igod still prayed: but Magerison rushed forward like a man gone mad —for on tho peat floor lay in ordered array tho jewels he had taken from the crop of the wild duck, that handful of gems stolen from him when he had been attacked and knocked unconscious in tho study! Ho had no perplexity of thought at that precise instant, as to how the gems came to be there; all he knew was that they were loose jewels to value of two thousand pounds, a.nd, as such, were to bo retrieved and safeguarded. Ho picked them up. Turning about he found Thorrold, his nerve regained looking with awo and bewilderment on the loose sepia matter which, like crumbled opium cakes or broken mushroom spawn, littered the table and littered the chair set within the chamber. That was the dust of his brother. . .surely since time began no stanger meeting of two men, so related, could have come to pass. The scene in such surroundings was repulsive—horrible . . . Magerison hastily stepped forward and grasped old Thorrold’s arm He led the Master of Thorroldan away from the terrible place and so shut from his eyes that awful sight. Thorrold Stayed away, thereafter. So it came about that Igod and Megerison, together, collected all that monkish treasure into one heaped and glorious pile. Plate and gems, manuscripts and seered vessels; priceless scrolls and wonderful works In fretted amber, cornelian and agate (lamps and censors these) creeping with tho captured sungleams pf ages past, ail were set in methodical array on the stout tabic. And certain disposition of the elder Thorrold’s remains had to be made —a grim task that Magerison undertook reverently and old Igod helped as reverently to consummate Time passed, fleeting as those dread shadows that had been beneath the earth—and now it was full dawn and the location was the study of TUorroldan Priory once again. Igod and Magerison had made five journeys with the treasure —five walks toward the swaying ladder and the brazen bolted secret door, laden with wealth, five journeys back to the chamber empty handed and silent. . . and those movements of feet made movements as important in the lives of these two strangely missimilar men. Without a word being spoken the ‘understanding’ (one could not exactly term it ‘friendship’) between Igod the dour and Magerison the brilliantly consequent and persistently impish advanced apace. So the way was paved for the utimale denouement ot the mystery ot Hound’s Pasture. For Igod had resolved to put trust in Magerison and tho younger man had also learned that Igod was trustworthy. Just so strangely as the threads of their lives had come together—so strangely now their thoughts and aspirations found unison. All this had its culmination within the four was of the study. . .where Thorrold, waxen laced and immobile in the thrall of a grief that was vast, sat heedless of all that went on about him. CHAPTER XXIX. MAGERISON EXPLAINS. Breakfast a sombre meal, was presided over by Dorothy, who hail left her room to hoar all that was to pass between the men. Keyed to tiro highest pitch of excitement, yet outwardly calm, she sat amazed by all that she heard. And as she listened she found her shaken beliefs in tne fundamental integrity of all ordinary beings once more ratified. For here was scrolled before her, in simple words, tho history of the last grim generation ot an ancionit house. She hoard of depths of avarice and of the heights of exultant aspirations: she listened to the unveiling of sin and found virtue in it, deep hidden as the jewel in the head of the fabled toad; she admired her lover —and regained respect to a certain extent, for her grandfather. For old Benjamin Igod—that grim servitor, once more arrayed in thick black suitings, she had always felt awo. Now she tempered that emotion with a maternal tenderness. She saw him, not so much as an unloved and unlovable figure hewn oivt of the hard stuff ot ancient times to move in an intolerant present, as a strangely lonely and pathetic symbol of servitude. The man had gained nothing for a lifetime’s devotion but isolation and out of love he had taken nothing that was golden but all that was icy and grey—the dross. For all that there remained to him a prize lie least o 1 ail could realise—nobilily. . .

"And”, Basil Magerison’s even yet buoyant voice was saying, "1 think that we'd beliter set to work and. once and for till .settle 11 1 is damnable mystery in the grave, it seems, we have all dug for it. .v bat > o say? Shall wc tackle the job without re-serve-exchanging confidence for confidence without any fear of ultimate issues—what do you say?

“For—for my part I say ‘yes’ ”, Thorrold made answer.

“In V Lord’s good time all tilings find ending”, old Igod droned. “What

t‘ maistor lays his tongue to is good enow word for me. . . yes!”

Magerison looked satisfied. “Would you care to hoar my side of the story first?” he queried.

Thorrold, glad for the respite thus offered, nodded. Tg°d agreed also.

“Then”, Magerison continued, "Pfl tell you first of all that X am not all that I have represented myself to you to lie”—lie- evaded Dorothy’s startled and anxious yes—"my name, for instance, is. . Basil Magerison Hulmc.’ Igod twitched; Thorrold grew wide eyed. ‘“Not—not the son ot Reginald Hulme ” “ Up to thirty years ago your family solicitor no; his grandson, sir! I am the grandson of old Hu:me and from perusal of some of nls papers, inherited by me from my father who died suddenly, a matter of a year ago, I tumbled on a strange story. . . Your strange sttory. “Now not being a lawyer 1 was free had 1 cared, to publish tho facts of that yarn to tire world. But being I hope, an honest sort of fcllotv”, bo quizzed Dorothy with a smile and was glad to receive one in return,

"I thought —well—that I’d respect an anciently given legal confidence. “However, I thought I’d make it In my way to visit this part of the world and sec what had como about in the generation that had elapsed from the —the death of your brotner, Thorrold. Ididu't think it necessary apart from my name, to sail under false colours —I am a writer and I was in Thewle for the ‘good of my health’ . .you see, a lot of my healthiness became, in great measure, due to meeting your grand-daugn-ter!"

Old Thorrold moved impatiently; Igod permitted a wintry smile to about his lips; Dorothy became suddenly ill at ease. “But let that stand for discussion on some future occasion—eh?. . . I learned in Thewle that one Elton Thorrold lived In the Priory and conducted himself as some encient feudal baron. Attended by one Benjamin Igod and one John Barnaby, retainers and, to a certain extent guards and serfs —you must forgive my blunt speaking Thorrold; affairs necessitate it —I cast about to determine on the reasons underlying the attitude.

"You were sane enough; X speedily asured myself on that point. Physically and mentally sound, although a man no longer young, you had no cause to cut yourself off from the world in such fashion. . .eliminating all other considerations, I at lasi determined yo u lay either under tne shadow and the dread of a crime or wore menaced by an enemy—or, both Both it proved to bo. .' .Richard Lcathlcy was your enemy; your

‘crime’ —why that was concerned

aboul your brother. "So I read and re-read tho documents I held. . .when 1 told you a little while ago that my knowledge of your tortuous ways came from the I meant that they came from your brother; you thought they had come from Death ley. Remember, at that time, Idid not know of his death—a little clear thinking would have saved you, I think, a lot of trouble”, he grinned maliciously, “so far as calling the police was concerned, I mean. . .

“Your ways were made known to mo from diaries lodged in my grandfather’s possession, as lawyer, ny your brother. Tho iatcr events after your brother's —or —disappearance—had been cacfully collected and commented on by my father. . .

and this is what I learned "You cleared off from Cambridge, Thorrold, while yet a youth, because of some trifling difference in tne treatment accorded by your lather ito yo u as opposed to that accorded to your elder, yet twin, brother. Your ways were unbalanced even then Thorrold, nearly half a century ago that proud, isolated and jealous spirit of you led to your eternal undoing.

“You cleared off and shipped before the mast, eventually finding a location in Australia. You were, at thirty two, an adventurer in the early gold rushes, running in leash with one Richard Lcalhley, your evil genius. Yau liar married in Ballarat and had born to you a son.

“Eo much, you see, had been discovered of you. . .To Leathley, in a confidential moment, you had evidently told your story—he soon sum-med-up tho situation. You would have been, save for a few moments in time, tho heir to a vast English estate; at that day all that stood between you and thait inheritance was your twin brother, whom you hated or professed to hate.

"In other words Leathley, 1 tak it, said, ‘Umov tha fllow Thorrold, and you’ve got the lot! It you’re squeamish over tho job—rely on me. I’ll see you through!’ You listened, as men from the dawn of time have listened to such as he. .. and you fell Thorrold—you—fell” A silence that brooded like a foul dark bird above itslx prey came to the room. When Magerison s merciless narrative was resumed his wonts cut through the air like the hissing of steel foils. . . .

“Accompanied by Leathley you deserted your wife and son and returned to England and installed yourself at the Green Dragon Inn at Thowlo; Leathley acted the role of your valet —your Joint treasure, won from the gold-holds, was suffeeient to enable you to play the part of ‘gentleman.’ From cautiously made inquiries i learn that you wore then c dour and silent man, black-bearded very sunburnt and bent in the boulders. For all that you were still in the early thirties you were taken to be at least forty-five to fifty years of age. No one recognised you as a Thorrold. . .save your brother, your own brother Thorrold, that gentle character that, already was master of his inheritance at Thorroldan Priory. He, knowing, did not