ROMANCE OF AN INSURANCE OFFICE,*

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXVI, Issue 9371, 22 May 1889, Page 3

ROMANCE OF AN INSURANCE OFFICE,*

BY J. MARSDEN SUTCLIFFE, Being Passages in the Experience of Mb. Agustus William Webber, Formerly General Manager to the Universal Insurance Company.

[All Rights Reserved.]

THE WAY OF THE WORLD. V. The mutiny -was crushed at last, and order and security reigned throughout our Indian possessions. Major Lowndes, no longer Major, but Colonel Lowndes, now returned with his regiment to receive the honour of knighthood at the hands of his sovereign for gallantry and devotion, and still higher military honours were in store for him. Sir Charles Lowndes, as we must now call him, " bore his blushing honours thick upon him" with the modesty that sits so well on a truly brave man. He returned to England, bringing a young wife with him— the rich widow of a Calcutta merchant barely out of her teems. His small savings, tint had proved too severe a test for Pierce Wharton's honesty, were a trivial matter to him, now that he had married the lady who was reputed to be the richest woman in Hindustan. But he learnt from Slingsby, who had risen to be Q.C., that a communication had been received from Dr Westlake informing him that amongst his brother-in-law's effects was a statement that a certain sum just realised on Major Lowndes' shares was to be banked in his name in the Bank of England. Dr. Westlake stated that he had carried out the instruction which his brother-in-law had not lived to carry out for himself. So Sir Charles received his money without the slightest suspicion of the true circumstances. Two years later the Universal suffered heavily by a succession of lires that occurred in the United States, one of which, at the least, was believed to be of an incendiary character. Mr Doggett was sent over to consult with the New York police and investigate. The day after his arrival Doggett had just turned into Wall-street when he ran plump against Pierce Wharton in the ilesh. The detective kept his head, wisely refusing to regard Mr Pierce Wharton as an apparition from the other world, and betrayed no sign of recognition. Doggett was familiar with Wharton's face in old city days before the hitter's voluntary exile. There was no mistaking the man, although he had shaved oil' his moustache and cultivated a tuft on his chin, American fashion. The detective tracked his man to his home, and discovered that the xoi-disant Pierce Wharton was now known as Penryn Wendover, a famous speculator who lived in magnificent style on Fifth Avenue. Satisfied that Mr. Penryn Wendover would be found when wanted, Dogget t swore a private information before a New York magistrate, and having transmitted this to Europe, waited instructions, and went about the business that had taken him to the States and so opportunely thrown him in Pierce Wharton's path. Doggett soon concluded his business, and then set to work to ferret out all he could about Mr. Wendover's movements since he set foot in the new world. Tracing Mr. Wendover's history backwards, he found that ho had left Liverpool under his present alias on the 3rd of August, 1557, two days before his dead body was supposed to have been committed to the grave i.ll Gorlington Churchyard. If 11 bombshell had suddenly burst in Mr. Webber's room it would scarcely have created more astonishment, though it would have inflicted more damage, than was experienced at the Universal when Doggett's communication arrived. The matter was at once placed in the hands of Mr. Reginald Levi, the most famous criminal lawyer of those days. Mr. Levi took Doggett's view, that, as Mr. Penryn Wendover was living in sublime unconsciousness of the sword of Damocles that was hanging over his head, it would be a pity to disturb him until matters were in train to warrant his arrest. " Let us first of all find the whereabouts of the other man, whose legal offence is more serious than Wharton's," ho said. " Without Westlake we can do nothing against Wharton, for Wharton has made no false declarations, received no money wrongfully that we shall bo able to trace, nor done any of the score of other acts which the more active criminal of the two has committed. When we get Westlake we can make srood our case against Wharton for conspiracy at least, but without Westlake 1 fear there is nothing to be done." A detective was despatched from Scotland Yard to trace out Westlake, and a letter was written to Doggett, commending his discretion and instructing him to " lie low" and keep on the qui rive. Only on Mr. Penryn Wendover showing symptoms of flight was he to proclaim his identity and call in the assistance of the New York police. The magistrate at the Mansion House consented to hear an important application from Mr. Levi in private, and at its close granted a warrant for Pierce Wharton's arrest. This warrant was enclosed in the communication to Doggett, with strict instructions not to use it until further instructed, unless he saw need to avail himself of the Extradition Treaty. Either France or Germany offered the best field to an English specialist in mental disease. Sims, the Scotland Yard detective, crossed by the next boat toOstend, and making the best of his way to Berlin, put himself in communication with the Berlin police, but nothing was known of Dr. Westlake there. Leaving instructions whereby the name of every lunacy specialist and his antecedents should be traced throughout the minor German states, Sims hastened to Paris, resolved that if he did not unearth Mark Westlake there, he would travel with all speed to Vienna. At Paris Sims found what he wanted. A reference to the directories showed that Dr. Westlake had a large private establishment for the treatment of the insane on the outskirts of Marseilles. A telegram to the head of the police in Marseilles soon brought back a message that Dr. West lake was still resident there. Sims returned at once to London, and after another private interview with the magistrate at the Mansion House, a warrant was issued against Mark Westlake on a series of charges. The .execution of the warrant, which was entrusted into the hands of Sims, was delayed until Doggett could be communicated with. Instructions were now sent to Doggett to act immediately, but to time the arrest so that information would reach Europe by the steamer leaving New York before the steamer on which Doggett proposed to set out. These instructions were carried out to the letter. There was something intensely dramatic in the situation of these men reposing in a false security and pursuing their several avocations, one in the extreme South of France and the other in the greatest commercial city of the new world, all unconscious that at a moment that now might be fixed with precision discovery and arrest would come upon them both with the startling suddenness of a bolt out of the blue heavens. At last word came from Doggett. The arrest had been affected, and though some formalities remained to be gone through, he expected to leave with his prisoner five days later. In anticipation of news from Doggett, Detective Sims had been sent down to Dover in readiness for the signal. The signal was given in one word, " Act." ►Sims took the next boat for Calais, arrested his prisoner on the quay at Marseilles, and returned to Paris in time to catch the night mail, arriving with Mark Westlake in good time on the morning following the night which had seen Doggett arrive in London from Liverpool with Pierce Wharton. The prisoners werebrought up at the Mansion House, and after a brief outline of the case had been given by counsel, a remand was granted. Sir Charles Lowndes read an account of the proceedings before the magistrates with undisguised horror, and after paying a visit to Newgate, where he was received with abundant expressions of grief by Wharton and cynical mockery by Westlake, lie visited Mr. Webber at the Universal. The gallant soldier, scarcely able to keep back his tears, told Mr. Webber the story of the youthful friendship at Harrow, and ' 'Die Proprietors of the New Zealand Hiirald have purchased the sole right to publish these .Stories ill North New Zealand.

how, on the night before they parted and went their several ways in the world, they had each vowed to help the other at his need, and that, in fulfilment of that vow, he had come to induce the office to take a merciful view of the case, offering not only to make good the losses endured by the companies, but any sum, even to half his fortune, if the offence could be condoned. Mr. Webber could not help being touched at the brave soldier's devotion to his friends, and the noble offer he had made to avert from the companions of his boyhood the consequences of their crime. But it was nob to be as he wished. As delicately as he could, Mr. Webber tried to bring Sir Charles to look at the matter from the standpoint of inexorable public duty ; but Sir Charles went away sorrowful, and brave man though he was and is, he murmured aloud that in his case, at least, the claims of an old friendship refused to take a second place to any other consideration. And nobly did he redeem his word. The prisoners were committed for trial in due course, and the matter came on for hearing before one of Her Majesty's judges at the Central Criminal Court, where a formidable bill of indictment was preferred against both prisoners. But that against Dr. Westlako was the more formidable of the two. That both prisoners were guilty of daring fraud was beyond all question. But their respective shares in the crime were different. The inception of the crime was due to the more powerful and fertile brain of Westlake, and this was assumed, though it could not be proved by the Crown. Wharton's share in the proceeds of the fraud was larger than that of Westluke's, and his need in the first instance hail led to the invention of the plan. Bub neither of these facts were known to the Crown. Both men held their mouths closed to the last. Wharton's share was limited to the more passive act of llight and sharing of the proceeds. Westlake provided the dead body which was substituted for the living body of Wharton. He signed the false certificate that Pierce Wharton had died from cerebral apoplexy. lie gave perjured testimony at the inquest held later. He misled Mrs. Wharton, and made her the unconscious instrument of effecting a great villainy. He used her as the mechanical recipient of the money paid over by the insurance offices. Ho was the master spirit and the active agent of the plot, and on him the stern hand of the law fell heaviest-. The case for the Crown against Wharton was weaker than it deserved to be. He was found guilty of conspiracy only, and was sentenced to seven years' penal servitude. The jury contented themselves with returning a verdict on three counts of the indictment against Westlake, who was sentenced to three several terms of five, seven, and eight years' penal servitude. The sentences were cumulative. Sir Charles Lowndes interested himself after the trial, but in vain, to secure an abatement of punishment. Having failed in his attempt, lie frequently visited both convicts in the penal settlements to which they were sent. Wharton's health broke down at Dartmoor, and when it became clear that his life was to bo measured by days rather than weeks, the order came for his release, and he was removed to Bournemouth by his constant friend, and nursed by him with more than the fidelity of a soldier and the tenderness of a woman, through the last stages of consumption. Into Sir Charles Lowndes' ear Wharton poured forth the whole story of his temptation and fall. When the hero of the Mutiny learnt that it was to make good a wrong done to himself that Wharton and West/lake had sinned together, his anguish was inexpressible. " Could you not have trusted me to forgive?" the brave warrior cried, whilst the tears coursed down his cheeks. " What were my paltry earnings compared with the ruin of your life " I know now that I could have trusted you. I was a fool to have doubted it," was the broken reply that came from Wharton's dying lips. And with this avowal of the stuff of which his friendship was made, the soldier had to be content. Soon after this Wharton died. He lies buried in the cemetery at Bournemouth, where the breath of the pine woods is wafted along with the salt air of the summer sea. Westlake, torn away from the pursuits he had followed with too little scruple, was unable to endure the strain of the monotony of prison life. His mind gave way, and lie was removed to Broadmoor. There he was pronounced incurable ; and then Sir Charles' intercessions for Westlake's release prevailed with the Government, and the once brilliant scientist was taken care of by his old Harrow friend. Various retreats were tried for him, but his restlessness and violence increased until the experiment was made of his removal to Gorlington, where the famous specialist in mental disease wore his life away, a hopeless imbecile, in a more or less restful calm within the wails where he wrung many a secret from nature by means if would be too curious to speculate upon, and upon the scene where the great fraud was planned, and, in part, executed. Mason did not recover from the attack, as stated by lfowgate. His death from cerebral apoplexy at the critical moment, though wholly unexpected by the conspirators, materially advanced the success with which they executed their plot. The success of the scheme was largely contributed to by the indifference of Mason's friends to his It is needless to say that Hotvgate was in the secret, for without his connivance the continued presence of Wharton at the Retreat until the time came for him to escape in disguise to Liverpool would have been almost impossible. And what of Mrs. Wharton and Marcia ? By what means Mrs. Wharton was induced to overlook the cruel deception that had been practised upon her, and to join her husband in New York, is entirely unknown. When the conspiracy was brought to light the blow killed her. She died before her husband reached Liverpool, of the malady that had long threatened her, her death hastened, no doubt, by the shock of discovering that she, a woman of blameless honour, should be so nearly related to men who could stoop to deeds so shameful. Sir Charles Lowndes, after the trial, crossed the Atlantic in search of Marcia, and it was owing to his thoughtfulness that Wharton's last hours were cheered by the presence of his child. To Marcia ho lias been more than a father ; for has lie not given to her his own name, and taken her to his bosom, his ono ewe-lamb, "shorn" of both parents, " shorn " too by disgrace in which she had no share, to whom the wind indeed needed to be " tempered !" The gallant soldier is childless, and Marcia is " to him as a daughter." When Doggctt was told that Sir Charles had offered even to the half of his fortune, if the charge could bo withdrawn against Wharton and Westlake, he quaintly remarked : "Ah! Wharton offered me the whole of his fortune if I would give him four-and-twenty hours' start, and he had made 'a big pile' over there in a short time." Which suggests how rarely men think of restitution as a matter of right and duty ; only as a bribe to purchase immunity from terror and escape from impending punishment. Wharton was in a position to have restored the whole amount of the fraud, and more. Public companies know how to give a kindly welcomo to repentant sinners who come with restitution in their hands. One more remark of Doggett's. "If Westlake had taken another name, like his friend Pierce Wharton—Penryn Wendover —did, Sims might have been looking over the Continent for him till the crack of doom. And if I had not gone to Wall-street —excited by curiosity mainly, for I had no business in that quarter — I guess Mr. Wendover would be speculating still, and this great insurance fraud would never have come to light. Chance—eh ? Bosh !" It is just the way of the word," said Mr. Webber, musing over the issues of the romantic friendship begun in the old Harrow days. "As Cowley says: 'There have been fewer friends on earth than kings.' "

DOCTOR JAQUET'S SECRET. I. Amongst the lesser luminaries of the medical world in Paris, towards the close of 1851, few men occupied a position of greater promise, _ or were more highly spoken of, than Felix Jaquet. If the verdict of his medical contemporaries may be trusted, none of the younger members of the profession could show more right to the fame lie was rapidly winning - than the rising young practitioner of the Rue Castiglione. Felix Jaquet was thirty-five years old, and the rumour ran that before many more

years rolled over his head he would rank amongst the most eminent physicians and surgeons of his day. Dr. Jaquet's rising fame was built on the sure and enduring rock of capacity. His diagnosis, made with rapidity, though with care, invariably proved correct, even in the most difficult and complicated cases. His dexterity and skill as an operator, when necessity demanded recourse to the knife, was little short of marvellous.. Bub what most contributed to his popularity in medical circles was the coolness of his nerve, and the intrepidity of his courage, under the most trying circumstances that can test the self-command of an operator. His presence of mind never seemed to forsake him. This made him a tower of strength when he was joined with others in difficult cases. Besides these special qualities, he was possessed of a fine, handsome presence, a low, musical voice, soft and sweet as a woman's, whilst his courteous manners made him remarkable even amongst a nation of gallant men. Dr. Jaquet was popular wherever he went. Whether mingling in the company of savants, or interchanging views with his political associates—for he was an ardent politician, as we shall see presently— whether ho unbent from graver pursuits in social reunions, Felix was a welcome presence. As for his patients, they simply adorod him ; the ladies especially. Perhaps the external appearance of the man, and his chivalrous bearing towards " the gentler sex," may have contributed to the idolatry with which they worshipped him. His figure was tall and well-knit, his features clearly cut. His noble brow was shaded with heavy masses of wavy, black hair, contrasting well with the pure and white skin. But his eyes would have made a man to be noticed in any company. They would flash with intelligence and fire when he grew excited over the wrongs of the exiled Orleanist family, and become keen and penetrating as an eagle's when some patient was under examination. But when in repose they burnt with a gentler fire, assuming an expression of seductive langour that made their glance almost magnetic. He had the high-strung sensibilities of the Gallic temperament, generally, however, kept under the control of an indomitable will. But with the ball at his feet, thwarted love and thwarted ambition had turned Dr. Jaquet Into a restless and discontented man, although his perfect self-control enabled him to hide his feelings from the eyes of the world. First of all, the political outlook was a sore disappointment to him. Felix Jaquet belonged to a collateral branch of a noble but impoverished Orleanist family. But personal > choice even more than hereditary tendency had led him to cast in his lot with the Orleanist party. For one thing, when he first came to Paris from his native town of Lille, and took up his abode in the Quarter Latin as a medical student, Louis Phillipe was securely seated on the throne of France, and remained the "Citizen King," as his admirers termed him, during the early years of Dr. Jaquet's professional struggles. But the July Revolution had sent the Orleanist family into exile at Claremont, and at the same time swept away Dr. Jrquot's hopes of Court patronage—a fact which he viewed with bitter resentment. The " Man of December" was now rapidly maturing his plans, which ended in the establishment of the Third Empire. There were Parisians in plenty who deemed the Prince-President "dark and unfathomable." But Dr. Jaquet was nob one of these. When the Republic was founded, Felix Jaquet joined the knot of men who looked up to M. Thiers as leader, and who, averse to Republican institutions, never ceased to plot for the return of the exile of Claremont. When Prince Louis Napoleon secured the Presidential chair for himself, Dr. Jaquet's quick and active intelligence pierced the arch-plotter's designs and foresaw the ulterior purpose which this move was meant to mask. Events were hurrying rapidly in this month of November, 1831, and with Orleanist politics in a sorry plight, Dr. Jaquet held himself in readiness for a flight upon short notice, though he did not abandon all hope that the machinations of the PrincePresident might yet be defeated. "Hope springs eternal " in the breast of a political intriguer, as in the breasts of other men. But the consolidation of Louis Napoleon's influence, and the rapidly d ninishing chances of an Orleanist return, constituted one cause for Dr. Jaquet's unrest. But he had another secret cause for dissatisfaction. It had been his fate to contract a loveless marriage. The match had ueen arranged six years before, after the most approved French fashion. Mdlle. Claire Benoit, the daughter of an avocat at Lille, was considered the most eligible -parti in the circle in which the Jaquots moved. The Jaquets had little money, but much pride of birth. Felix inherited the beauty of the family and more than a share of its talents. M. Benoit was of yesterday, but rumour attributed to him the possession of considerable wealth. There was the usual discussion between the elders of the respective families, and after M. Benoit had stated the amount of the dot with which he proposed to endow his daughter, the parents decided that Felix Jaquet and Claire Benoit were necessary to complete each other's happiness. Claire Benoit was a woman who deserved to bo loved with knightly affection. Her slight, willowy figure, lithesome with French grace, formed the least of her charms. She possessed rare and surpassing loveliness, though her beauty was not of that sensuous type that has driven wise men mad." It was rather of that order which painters seek out for their models, to sit for angels or saints; ethereal in type, such as is commonly found allied with great reserve and self-possession, and which some men, who dream not of the secret wealth of tenderness so often concealed behind a reserved exterior, are apt to consider cold. Such natures are cold to the men who are slow to perceive their native delicacy of feeling, and who, from want of sufficient penetration into the mysteries locked within the arcana of a sensitive virgin breast, do not possess the master-key wherewith to discover their way to the treasures hidden in hearts like theirs. Dr. Jaquet, when first introduced to his fiancee, declared himself enchanted with his parents' choice ; but his heart was not touchcd, and it was fated never to be touched, by Claire Benoit. His transports knew no bounds, however, when he learned the handsome dot which the Lille avocat was prepared to settle with his only daughter ; half of which was to be reserved to Claire's separate use, and the other half devoted in furnishing the house in the Rue Castiglione and settling Felix Jaquet in his practice. After a brief month's experience of wedded bliss, Dr. Jaquet began to chafe under his marital bonds and grew weary of his servitude. He deemed his wife cold and unresponsive; wanting the master-key wherewith to unlock her heart. He complained that she was too exalted, too spiriitielle, and once in a bitter scene, wherein he forgot his habitual courtesy, he reproached her with being a devote. There was some basis for his accusations. Though Claire Jaquet was not cold; she was unresponsive. But her unresponsiveness arose from timidity and modest reserve. The nimble wit of the woman was the first to discover that her husband was disappointed in his marriage, without, however, imagining the reason. The discovery was unspeakably shocking to her ; and her loving nature became more contained within herself than it had been before. She was more unresponsive than ever; and when, after the birth of hot; child —a bright fair-haired little fellow with dreamy blue eyes, who was like his mother in form and feature, and seemed to have inherited her gentle and retiring nature— she found that, in spite of herself, the breach grew wider between them, she betook herself more and more to the consolations of religion. When her husband chose to entertain she acted the part of hostess with well-bred tact and grace ; but one glance at her pale face as she moved in and out amongst her guests was enough to convince a shrewd observer that whilst the body, and to some extent .the mind of their charming hostess was there, and she was performing her part with an ease of movement that extorted admiration, her heart and soul were elsewhere. Matters reached such a pass with Madame Jaquet that she was never happy unless in the nursery playing with her boy, or at the Madeline kneeling and praying before the great altar. Her visits to the Madeline were too frequent to promise well for their domestic peace. And yet, had Felix Jaqueb known the cry-that went from this woman's desolate heart through the ; stillness of the

church to the Divine ear bent over her, his heart would have been strongly moved with pity, even if it had nob melted with love. " Give me my husband's love, or take my boy and me !" was the constant burden of her agonising plaints. When Dr. Jaqueb sharply upbraided her with being too devote.., Claire went less to the Madeline, but she continued to move about her home, where her dream of happiness had been broken, more like a pale ghost than before. She felt herself lying completely outside her husband's life and interests. He never addressed her except in terms of finished courtesy, such as he would employ to the stateliest dame amongst his patients. ■ There were no vulgar quarrels, but she hungered for one look, one word of love, that would have told her that she was more to him than ' the mere lay-figure who sat at the head of his table and received his guests ! \ The cruel misery of it was that in the early days of their married life, which they spent in Italy, the seductive languor of Felix Jaquet's splendid eyes, his soft tones and wooing caresses, had fired her soul with love, though she had never been able to gather courage to tell him so. And since the thin end of the wedge had been driven in between them, and she had awoke from her dream of happiness, to find herself an unloved wife, she would have died rather than have revealed to him the intensity of her passion, and her heart's hunger for one glance of affection from those eyes which had shone into her heart in the early days of their union, when together they sailed over the river paths of beautiful Venice, under the soft light of an Italian sky at eventide. The bitterness of realising that she was forsaken was unspeakable, and her whole energies became concentrated in hiding the passion of her love, which she felt it would be a degradation under such circumstances to disclose. The time came when the breach between them' was irreparable, and when, though continuing to live under the same roof, their lives were as far asunder as though they lived in different hemispheres, and seas roared between them. There was a tacit understanding on both sides that they should each go their own way, and interfere with each other's movements as little as possible. Alas! Claire's, life admitted of little change. When not occupied with necessary household duties, or in paying the claims of her social position, Madame Jaquet went from the nursery to. the Madeline, and from the Madeline back to the nursery, in a beaten and monotonous path of daily habit. And so the days passed on, till we come to the middle of November, in the memorable year of the coup d'etat, by which time her little Philippe was five years old. How Dr. Jaquet spent his time when free from profession and political cares wilL be told in the next chapter. [To be continued. 1