The Moseley Mystry.

Northland Age, Volume 2, Issue 44, 12 June 1906, Page 8

The Moseley Mystry.

AS TOLD BY A LADY EX-DETECTIVE. By John K. Leys, Author of “Dark Doings," "Th| Black Terror." "The Lindsays," "The Sign of the Golden Horn," &c., &c. 1 PART 6. CHAPTER XIV. LOVE BLINDED HIS EYES. During the forenoon of the next day. as I was sitting in the library, 1 heard a sound which made me start and ask myself if I could believe tny loud, hearty laugh ! The sound came from the stairs, from the top landing. 1 went to the door, which happened "All right ! I'll be here at seven, aunt !" he shouted, as he came down the stairs two or three at a time. I met him on the lower landing. "What has happened ?" I asked, in The light-hearted fellow laughed again at my surprise. "Only that rav aunt has made up her mind that I am not a rascal," he said. "Does she think she made a mistake, then, and wrote the cheque for four thousand pounds, after all ?" "I’m sure I don’t know, She must have done so. But she has chosen to side with you, and believe me innocent. Do you know where Miss Troup is ?" ‘‘Lady Farrell gave no reason for this change ?" "No ; and I didn’t ask for one. You see. this is my birthday, and aunt couldn't get over that fact. The puzzle of the cheque is one that I can't solve : I've given up trying. It is enough for me if my aunt no longer thinks I cheated her. Do you know whether Miss Troup is in ?" "I don't know," said I, slowly, my i\ves fixed on Frank Moseley’s face. As I uttered the words something occured to me for the first timesomething so plain and obvious that if I had not been blinded by my own vanity at my success I must have, thought of it a week before. I continued looking at my former lover. I would not accuse his new sweetheart . Ilis own mouth, by the very necessity of the case, must acquit or "Stop a moment !" I cried, as he was turning to the door. I went to the door myself, and closed it. "You remember getting the letter with the forged cheque in it ?" "Bother the forged cheque ! Well, yes ; I remember it well enough." "Mr. Moseley, this is a serious ■natter ; if not for you, at least for your aunt. Tell me this : Was the envelope which contained the letter and the cheque soiled in any way—"No ; not that I remember." "Did it seem as if it had been opened and closed again ?" "Oh, I see what you are driving at! No; it did not. I should have noticed any signs of that sort. The envelope was all right." 1 "Now, I wish you to take a little time to consider before you answer this question ; In whose handwriting was the address on the envelope ? Don’t answer in a hurry." "What can it matter who address- " Never mind. I only want an answer, if you can feel certain about it. Who addressed the letter?" Frank stood reflecting for a moment, and I stood waiting for his ; "Miss Troup." ; "Are you certain ?" Quite certain, I remember now that it was an envelope of a kind a little different from those my aunt generally uses ; and I remember perfectly well that Miss Troup addressed it But I should say that half of the notes that I get from my aunt are sent to me in envelopes addressed by Miss Troup. She writes the addresses on a batch of envelopes, and my aunt uses them as she writes the letAny one but Frank would have seen the purport of my questions ! Any one but he would have thought It possible that Miss Troup had had a hand in the robbery. Love dazzled him. and blinded his eyes. There was no longer any room for doubt in my mind. Lady Farrell had told me that she herself had addressed, with her own hand, the envelope in which the cheque had been enclosMy heart was full of pity for the poor boy standing there, his fingers on the handle of the door, eager to escape from my tiresome questions, and fly to her, his false love ! "May I beg one favour of you " I "Certainly. What is it ?" I wish you not to mention to your aunt, at present, the fact that Miss *Troup addressed that particular enSurely, I thought, this request Till give him a hint of the blow that is about to fall on him. It did nothing of the kind. "How delightfully mysterious you are!" he cried. "Very well, I won’t." "I’m coming to dinner to-night at seven," he said, as he opened the door. "I’ll see you then, I suppose?" "Her ladyship wishes to see you, miss,” said one of the servants, comOf course I went up stairs at once. "Have you seen my nephew? Has he told you ?" asked Lady Farrell. "Yes, I have. He told me that you had come to believe in his innocence." “I do believe in it. I must believe in it. Frank is incapable of doing such a thing. I have Judged him wrongly." Should 1 tell her. now that reason

was on rm snie, that there waa no longer a mere suspicion, hut proof, that Miss Troup, not Frank Moseley, had been guilty of defrauding her ? No ! I said to myself. Let her hear it for the first time from Frank's own lips. She will see that he does not even understand the import of his answer. Coming through me, the evidence would lose half its weight. "I have no doubt you are tight, Lady Farrell#" I answered, meekly. "I have no doubt you are right, made since—since this unfortunate event. My nephew is coming here to dinner this evening—in short w® are completely reconciled. Do you still think that it is possible to bring the offence home to some one else ?" "I have little doubt of it," I replied.

"Then take your own course, Miss Hamilton," said her ladyship, coldly.

I paid little attention to either Lady Farrell's words or her manner; for, as she had been speaking to me, a new fear had occurred to me.

What if Frank Moseley in his headlong, unthinking way, had begun to talk to Miss Troup about the conversation I had just had with him ? I ought to have exacted a promise from him that until I gave him leave he would not mention the subject to any one, not even to Miss Troup herself. I had little doubt that if that lady had warning of the danger that lay before her she would be able to persuade Frank that he had been mistaken, or find some way of winning him over to her side beforehand, so that it would be impossible for him to believe her guilty.

I ran down stairs. Frank was not in the library, nor in the drawing room. When I opened the diningroom door I was startled to hear his voice, for the room was empty. Looking round, I saw that the door of the closet was wide open. One of the servants must have had occasion to go into the closet between the dining room and the breakfast room, and had opened the door communicating with the breakfast room. Meaning to air the closet, the girl had left both doors open.

"I'm certain you addressed it, Alice," said Frank.

"And I'm certain I didn't, goosey! As if I shouldn’t have remembered it if I had !" cried Miss Troup. "I know you are wrong," said Frank, in a quiet, but firm tone. "And I know you are wrong," returned the girl. "Tell me, have you spoken of this to your aunt ?" "To my aunt? No." "Promise me that you won't do so till" "Why should I mention it at all ? It’s not of the slightest importance. You hold to your opinion, and I hold to mine—that's all. If she asks me, of course I will tell her" "Tell her that I addressed that envelope ?" "Well, yes. What else could I say?" "At least give me an opportunity of saying before her that you are mistaken. Don't speak of it behind my back." "I don’t understand you, Alice," said Frank, slowly. "Why do you make a fuss about a trifle like that?"

"Don’t speak of it to-night, at least."

"Oh, good gracious, no ! Of course not. We shall talk about something else at dinner, I hope ; something more agreeable than that confounded cheque. I wish you would give over thinking of it. Luckily, you had nothing to do with it. But my aunt has come to acknowledge to herself that she made a mistake—l fancy so, at least ; and it's all right." I softly closed the closet door, for I needed to hear no more.

Waiting in the dining room until Miss Troup had left Frank and gone upstairs, I waylaid him as he was going out at the street-door. "You have been having a chat with Miss Troup, Mr. Moseley," I said, boldly. "Well, suppose I have—there's no great harm in that." #

"Did you tell her that you had been speaking to me about that” He did not allow me to finish my sentence.

"Good heavens, no !" he cried, in an exasperated manner. "I never once mentioned your name. I declare I'm quite sick of the subject you allude to. If I could, I would never speak of it again as long as I live. There, now, forgive my bad temper," he added, holding out his hand. "See you at dinner ? Good bye !"

So Miss Troup did not know that I was aware of the fact that she had readdressed the envelope which conveyed the cheque. At the moment I was gla'd that she did not know it. Oh, blind, blind ! Would that I had told her ! Oh, would that I had ! I doubt whether, if I had done so, the result would have been different ; and yet I have since felt that I would have given my right hand to be able to think that I had at that hour walked into Miss Troup's room and told her all I knew. CHAPTER XV. I AM SCRUTINIZED IN MY TURN. Would it not be better, I asked myself, some time after Frank Moseley had left the house, to tell Lady Farrell what I had discovered ? There was a certain responsibility in keeping it to myself. Lady Farrell had only to ask her nephew about the addressing of the envelope, and she must be convinced by his answer that Miss Troup was the person really guilty. It would be clear to her, as it was to me, that Miss Troup had abstracted the letter from the letter-box in the hall, opened it, altered the cheque, so that the sum to be paid to her accomplice Barton should be increased by three thousand pounds, and that then (finding that the envelope was spoiled) she had addressed a fresh one, trusting that, as she frequently, addressed Lady Farrell’s envelopes for her, the circumstances would escape Frank Moseley's observation. True, the evidence against Miss Troup was not such as might be deemed conclusive in a court of law, ► but I had nothing to do with that. My mission in Lady Farrell's house was to satisfy her ladyship's mind as to her nephew’s guilt or innocence. That object was practically accomplished. It was for Lcdy Farrell and her legal advisers to say whether j Miss Troup should be prosecuted for I the theft, or simply sent about her

MMt. T, «nr«B meta oerore him, Praak Ifioaetey determined not to give up his engagement with her, dearly that was not my affair, My duty was to inform my employer that I had discovered that the envelope containing the cheque had been changed for one addressed by Miss Troup ; and report to Weeby and Turner that my task had been successfully accomplished. Accordingly, I went up to Lady Farrell’s room. But my purpose was frustrated. Her maid met me at the threshold, and told me that her mistress had spent a sleepless night, suffering from nervous headache, and that now she had fallen asleep, after giving orders that she was not to be disturbed until an hour before dinner.

After all, I said to myself, as I turned and went down stairs, a few hours can make little difference. Tomorrow morning will do just as well.

I went out for my usual constitutional walk ; and as I was returning to Cumberland-square I observed a tall man a good way in front of me, walking rapidly in the direction of the square. Even at that distance I had no difficulty in recognizing him as Harvey Gibbon. He was so far before me that I saw it woiftd be pereasy for me to watchnis movements, if I cared to do so. But there was no necessity for debating that point. As soon as Mr. Gibbon reached the centre of the nearest side of the square, he turned at right angles crossed the road, and entered the square garden.

There could be no. doubt that he had gone there by appointment, to meet Miss Troup. For a moment I half resolved to follow him, and try to overhear their conversation, as I had done before. But the intention had hardly been formed in my mind before I abandoned it. The circumstances had been totally different then from what they were now. Then I had been trying to further my employer's interests, trying to clear the character of an old friend, a man whom I had once loved, from one of the blackest of stains. Now my work had been accomplished ; Frank Moseley's innocence had been, or very soon would be, established to his aunt's satisfaction. It was more than probable, \ thought, that Miss Troup, alarmed at the remark that Frank had made about her having addressed the envelope containing the cheque, had summoned her lover, that she might consult him as to the danger which threatened her. Their consultations were none of my business. But it would do no harm I thought, to ascertain whether Miss Troup was really in the square ; and also whether she had actually summoned Mr. Gibbon, or whether the meeting had been arranged some time before. Going on to the house, I soon satisfied myself, by a few inquiries among the servants, that Miss Troup had got one of the under servants to take a letter containing a shilling to the post-mistress of the nearest post office very soon after Frank Moseley had left her. That letter, there could be little doubt, contained a telegram to be despatched to Mr. Gibbon. For more than an hour no one appeared at the gate of the garden in the square. Then Alice Troup came out of the garden alone, walked off in the direction which led away from Lady Farrell's, and returned to the house another way. A quarter of an hour afterwards Mr. Gibbon al3o left the garden. By this time it was after our usual lunch hour ; and I felt so strong a repugnance to meeting Miss Troup and talking with hor in an ordinary way, under present circumstances, that I snatched a few mouthfuls of food as she was taking off her hat, and retired to my own room before she came down stairs.

About half-past four, however, I went down to the drawing room for a cup of tea, hoping that Miss Troup would not be there. In this, however, I was mistaken. She was lying in a low chair in front of the fire, with a novel in her hand. Lady Farrell's indisposition had given her a holiday. "Where have you been, Miss Hamilton ?" she exclaimed, as soon as she saw me. "You look blue with cold. Do have some tea, and come and warm yourself." "I have been upstairs," I said, moving forward towards the fire. "With Lady Farrell ?" "No ; in my own room. Lady Farrell is asleep, or trying to sleep, to make up for the wretched night she had last night." "So I was told ; and one good result of that is,' that I have had a holiday to-day." Miss Troup spoke with unwonted cordiality. She bustled about among the tea-things to get me a cup of tea, and pushed back her chair, that I might enjoy a larger share of the fire.

Laying down the sugar-tongs with a smile, she looked me straight in the face.

"So you see that the course that I recommended long ago has been taken," she said.

"Do you mean" "I mean that Lady Farrell has most sensibly determined to forget about the cheque, and make friends with her nephew. You may remember that I said some time ago that that would be the best thing to do." "So you did, Miss Troup."

"Mr. Moseley told me himself this morning that he and his aunt were quite reconciled. I was so glad to hear it. It would have been very hard if a fine young man like him had been disinherited and ruined because he had helped himself to a little more than his aunt had intended him to get—or because his aunt herself made a stupid blunder." I murmured something by way of assent, and Miss Troup went on. "I suppose it will never be discovered now which of them was the cause of all this fuss being made." "It is very mysterious, certainly," said I.

"I don't see the mystery," rejoined Miss Troup. ‘‘We have an extravagant nephew, and a rich and indulgent aunt. It is not surprising that what happened did happen. I am inclined now to think that Lady Farrell must have been herself to blame all along, Mr. Moseley went over all the circumstances with met Q-day ; and, really, his manner was that of quite an innocent man, What do you :■

tmnie lie tout me V 3 The lamp had been brought in, for daylight fades early in the late autumn in a London square. The light shone full on my face as Miss Troup suddenly put this question to me. Her eyes were bent on me, watching the least motion of lips and eyelids. Had I acknowledged, by any trembling of a muscle, that I knew there was something he might have told her, which deeply concerned Miss Troup herself ? I thought not. I had anticipated that Miss Troup must have some object in talking with me; and my features were schooled into a polite, meaningless calm. “I do not know. What did he tell you ?" I asked, innocently. “That the whole of the money was paid away soon after he received it. Did you ever hear of such extravagance ?”

. in, for

This answer was prepared beforehand, I had no doubt. I was too cautious to show surprise at the intelligence. Miss Troup must have known that I was aware of what had become of the money.

“I told him," she continued, “that I was thankful that Lady Farrell had not asked me to fill up the cheque, or advise (as I often do) about the amount. I had nothing whatever to do with it, so far as I remember. Just by way of making sure, I asked Mr. Moseley to-day who made out the cheque, and who sent it on to him ; and he answered" “Lady Farrell, of course," said I.

“Lady Farrell," echoed Miss Troup, nodding her head. “So that Mr. Moseley's memory quite agrees with mine, down to the last detail.”

“A parcel for you miss," said the butler, bringing a packet about the size of a small book on a salver to Miss Troup. "Thanks, Thompson," said Miss Troup, carelessly taking up the packet. "You may take away the teathings," she added, "that is, if you won't have another cup, Miss Hamilton ?"

"No more, thank you," said I ; and I took advantage of the butler’s presence to rise and leave the room. Seldom had my features been asked to undergo a more severe ordeal. Miss Troup’s piercing eyes had been bent unceasingly on my face as she talked. I understood her object. She had been trying to discover by minute signs in my face whether Frank Moseley had told me that she, not Lady Farrell, had addressed the fatal envelope. She knew that Lady Farrell had not been told, and if she could manage to silence Frank, or confuse him and make him think that his memory had deceived him, she might yet hope to escape detection.

When any one tells you a lie to your face, it is not easy to avoid either by some sign of incredulity or by a too great stolidity of expression that you know he is not telling the truth. Had I succeeded in baffling Miss Troup's desire to sound me ? I believe I had. CHAPTER XVI. 'A MESSAGE IN THE NIGHT. The dinner-hour drew near—the hour of the birthday feast, which was to crown the reconciliation between Lady Farrell and her nephew. Both Miss Troup and I were to be present, as a matter of course ; but no other guests had been invited—indeed, there had been no time for issuing invitations to any friends. It is my invariable custom to be early in the drawing room on occasions of state, or of semi-state, and thus avoid the awkwardness of entering the room alone in the presence of others. That night, however, there seemed to be no need for hurrying my toilet operations, as I had only to meet those whom I had been in the habit of seeing almost daily for some time. It was a few minutes after seven, as it happened, when I entered the drawing room ; but Lady Farrell had not yet come down stairs. Frank Moseley, had, however, arrived. He and Miss Troup were standing close together in a corner of the room, and he was looking at something which he held in his hands. Their backs were turned towards me, so that they did not observe that I had entered the room.

"Thank you a thousand times, darling ; it is a beauty. But you should not have given me anything so expensive, you know." He spoke so quickly that the sentence was uttered before I had time to collect my thoughts. I gave a tolerably loud cough to warn the lovers of my presence, and moved slowly forward.

Frank turned to greet me—a bright happy look on his face ; and as we sat down to wait for Lady Farrell's appearance, he seemed to be on the point of showing me a small black object, like a book, which he held in his hand. At a warning look, however, from Miss Troup, he checked himself, smiled, left the room, and presently returned with his hands empty. I conjectured that Miss Troup had been presenting her lover with a birthday gift ; probably it had been contained in the little packet which had been delivered to her earlier in the evening. As the relations between Lady Farrell’s nephew and Miss Troup were not openly acknowledged (though they could hardly be called secret), it was only natural that she should prefer that he should not show the present she had given him to any third party, Shortly after Frank returned to the drawing room, his aunt came in ; and we adjourned to the dining room. The mistress of the house, I noticed, was unusually silent, even for her. Something seemed to be weighing on her mind. I had no doubt she was debating with herself what course she ought to adopt towards Miss Troup, and asking herself what she would do if Frank refused to believe that Miss Troup had altered the cheque. Was she to quarrel once more with him ? Or was it possible that, after what had passed, she could force herself to acknowledge this thievish woman as his wife and the co-heiress to her wealth ?

These thoughts were enough, I imagined to keep Lady Farrell’s tongue silent. As for me, I exercised the privilege of a dependent, and did not take the trouble to open my lips unless I was asked .a queetioiu -Mias,

Troup, also, mo very irare; dux; Frank Moaetey talked enough for himself and the rest of us put together. £ noticed that he did not spare his aunt’s excellent champagne, and his tongue ran on the more freely in consequence. "By the way, Miss Troup," he said, suddenly, "you won't guess whom I saw to-day ? Your cousin—the fellow from Birmingham, you know. Fact. And that reminds me, aunt. A curious thing happened to me to-day after I left you. A little more champagne, Thompson, if you please. "After I left you this morning I went down to the club. There was nobody there to talk to so I sauntered into the reading room, and took up a paper. And the first thing I saw was my own name ! Upon my honour it’s a fact. One of those advertisements one sees for a wandering prodigal, or an erring husband—‘lf this should meet the Eye’—capital E—‘of F. Moseley, he is requested to communicate with So-and-so, when he may possibly hear of something to his advantage,' Quite romantic, isn't it ?’i

Lady Farrell's eyes were bent on her nephew’s face with a look of surprise as she toyed nervously with her empty wine-glass.

"Well, did you go ?" she asked, almost sharply. “I did, madam. I went down to an office in the City, something like a disused coal-mine for dinginess, and found a snuff old gentleman in an ugly brown wig, with a face one mass of wrinkles. He took down my name and address, and asked me a lot of questions as to my parentage and education ; and wound up by saying that he feared I was not the person wanted, or something to that effect, but he would communicate with me if necessary. "I told him in polite terms that he was an old humbug, who ought to have been hanged long ago ; shook the dust of the wretched hole off my feet, and—and"

Miss Troup had been looking steadily at the speaker for some time ; and he had been uneasily conscious that he had been guilty of an imprudence in mentioning her cousin's name.

"And so my wonderful adventure came to an end."

“Rather a lame conclusion, Frank," said Lady Farrell. “But you began by saying that you met somebody—a relation of Miss Troup’s, I think you said."

"Yes," answered Frank, looking at his aunt, and avoiding Miss Troup’s eyes. “As I was leaving that old humbug’s office this morning, just as I reached the street, I met a gentleman who, I believe, is a relation of Miss Troup." Lady Farrell glanced at her amanuensis, as if to invite her to make a remark, if she felt so disposed.

“I think it must be a cousin of mine, who resides in Birmingham," said Miss Troup, calmly. “Mr. Moseley passed me one day when I happened to meet him in Oxford-street. But I did not know that he was still in London."

The explanation seemed natural and commonplace enough ; and there the subject dropped. Frank remainod in the dining room some time after the rest of us had betaken ourselves to the drawing room ; and I could see that Lady Farrell was fidgeting about him. “Miss Hamilton," she said, suddenly, “please touch the bell." I did as I was desired. “Thompson, I wish the tea brought up immediately,” she said, when the butler appeared. “And please go at once to the dining room and tell Mr. Moseley that tea is served. The foolish boy must have had quite enough of wine by this time," she added, under her breath, when the servant had left the room.

In a few minutes Frank appeared. He was perfectly master of himself ; for he was too much of a gentleman to drink to excess, at his • aunt's table at least ; but one could easily see by his flushed face and the excessive geniality of his manner that he had taken quite as much wine as was good for him. When the tea was brought in, Lady Farrell poured it out herself contrary to her usual custom ; and as I handed Frank his Gup I noticed that she had made the beverage unusually strong for him. He hardly touched the tea, however, and turning to the piano, he insisted upon Miss Troup playing a running accompaniment, while he favoured us with a new comic song. It was not particularly comic, however ; and both Lady Farrell and I were pleased when Miss Troup, the moment it was over, bade us good night and retired from the room. We imagined that Frank would not remain long when she had gone ; and we were not mistaken. The moment his cab was announced he rose, kissed his aunt affectionately, shook me by the hand, and went off. Immediately afterwards Lady Farrell went up stairs, and I followed her example. When I reached my own room, I found that (after the liberal custom in Lady Farrell's household) a bright fire was burning in the grate. This tempted me to indulge myself in what has always been a favourite dissipation of mine—an hour with a novel over a fire before going to bed. But I had nothing to read. Better, I thought go down to the library for some light literature before the gas is turned out. I acted on this idea, and as I reached the hall I heard voices in the neighbourhood of the street-door. "Don’t light it in the house ; you know Lady Farrell can’t bear the smell of tobacco," said Miss Troup. "Very well, I won’t, then," reponded Frank ; "but you must bite off the end for me."

‘‘Oh, I couldn't—the nasty thing ! See, here are a pair of tiny scissors, with a hole in one of the blades made on purpose."

By the time this was said I had reached the library, and there I found Thompson, who was discreetly keeping out of the way of the young couple in the hall. I hunted about for a novel, found one, and left the room. As I passed through the hall for the second time, my ears informed me that the trifling dispute between Frank and his

the obstinacy of a weak nature, xm young man was still insisting that she should bite off the end of h 3 cigar for him. “Oh, well, if you won't, I won’t have one at all," he was saying as I passed. "I'll wait until I get to my rooms, and have a pipe then." “That would only be punishing yourself, you goose ! But give it to me. There ! Now, good night. They could hardly have been ignorant that I must have overheard this little dialogue ; but apparently neither of them cared. I went up stairs, and as I reached the first landing I heard the street-door close behind Frank Moseley. My book proved to be an unusually interesting one, so that two hours or more went by and found me still deep in its pages. The fire had burned low, and the rising wind was shaking my window in the casement. Suddenly my candle went out, and I was bending over the flickering fire to reach the end of the story, when I was startled by a loud rap at the streetdoor.

It was repeated again and again. Some one was knocking who wished to rouse the household. Wondering what it could mean, I ran to my door and opened it. I could hear the street-door bell ringing somewhere far below.

Then came the noise of opening doors and hurrying feet, while the clamour of the bell and the knocking continued.

I stole down stairs, but I could neither hear nor see anything ; so I returned to my own room.

As suddenly as the noise begun it stopped. Thompson must have opened the door. I listened for some time, but could hoar nothing further ; and coming to the conclusion that we had been disturbed by a tipsy man who was unable to find his way home, I was about to undress, when I heard a tap at my bed room door,.

Instantly I opened it. Lady Farrell walked in, and stood for a moment looking at me. I could see by the light of the candle she carried that she was deadly pale. There was a strange, wild look in her eyes. “Lady Farrell !" I cried, “what has happened ?" For a moment it seemed as if she could not answer me. Then she said, calmly : “My poor boy has been murdered. Come with me,"To be Continued. (996.) SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS PARTS. Jane Hambley finds herself in London, her means all but exhausted and starvation threatening her and her only companion—her little sister Nora. She is wondering how she can keep the wolf from the door when she sees an advertisment eminating from a big firm of private enquiry agents. Why not be a lady detective she asks herself ? At first the work seems repulsive, but at length the feeling of necessity conquers her prejudice, and she calls at the firm's office. Much to her surprise, she is engaged, and at once entrusted with an important case—Lady Farrell, of 14 Cumberland-square, has been defrauded of three thousand pounds, and this is the mystery which Jane is set to solve. Assuming the name of Julia Hamilton, she takes up her residence in the Farrell household as a “poor relation." It seems that Lady Farrell had sent her nephew—a wild young fellow—a cheque for one thousand pounds, which had been altered and cashed for four thousand pounds. Lady Farrell believes her nephew to be guilty of forgery, and while she and Jane are discussing the matter, the nephew walks in and the lady detective recognises him as Frank Moseley, an old friend, for whom she still feels affection. The situation is embarrassing, and Jane is loth to believe Frank guilty of the crime. She subsequently questions him regarding Lady Farrell’s generosity but their conversation is interrupted by the entry of Miss Troup, her ladyship's companion, whose manner suggests suspicions. Having arranged for her sister's welfare at school, Jane resumes the case and plays the spy upon Frank and Miss Troup. This, however, does not result in any important discovery, but when she subsequently sees Miss Troup in close conversation with a strange man, her thoughts revert to the mysterious Mr. Barton. A photo of Miss Troup is subsequently discovered in an album in Barton's rooms. Jane makes the acquaintance of Mr. Harvey Gibbon, who claims to be an old friend of her brother’s. Jane also recognizes him as Miss Troup's mysterious friend. A suspicious discovery of birdlime is made in Miss Troup's room. Meanwhile Harvey Gibbon endeavours to cultivate Jane's acquaintance, and despite all hints, Frank Moseley gets more fascinated than ever with Miss Troup. But the lady detective keeps her eyes open. GREAT COTTON SCANDAL. FORTUNES AMASSED BY THE SALE OF SECRETS. The making of a fortune of something like £IOO,OOO in five minutes by Mr. Theodore Price, as the result of his knowledge of how the cotton crop was going to turn out, has had a sudden and remarkable sequel. A junior assistant statistican in the office of the Secretary of Agriculture at Washington, has been dismissed from his post for conveying advance information extracted from the Bureau’s cotton reports to Mr. Price and other brokers. It was noticed, says a correspondent that the assistant who only draw's a small salary, had grown immensly wealthy within a few years. It was also known that certain cotton brokers were being supplied with advance information from the Government office.

The authorities, it is stated were put on the track of the scandal by a broker who had bought information but whose conscience was pricked when he saw the disastrous effect of the speculations which followed.

One of the devices for passing out the information from the office is said to have been most ingenious. The assistant was working at the cotton returns in a locked room in the presence of his chief, who held the key, but he indicated the course his accomplishes should pursue on the market by raising and lowering the blind.