BETRAYAL OF JOHN FORDHAM.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXXIII, Issue 10160, 17 June 1896, Page 3

BETRAYAL OF JOHN FORDHAM.

NOW FIRST PUBLISHED.

BY B. L. FABJEON,

PART IV. CHAPTER XXXV.-/ Continued.) ;I pot the bottle aside, and held up my 'hand, for 9 just then we Beard three single raps at the street) door, a shorb interval between each. Thon, after a longer interval, three rapid knocks. "Is that Maxwell's signal?" I whispered. " Speak low." " Yes." : "Do you have to say anything! Must he hear your voice?" Yes. And I must hear his.". "Go and say it, and open the door, and leave the rest to us. We shall be behind you." , . ' I did not trust her even then, you see. We stepped softly out of the room, Mrs. Fordham first, and we ab her heels. The passage was dark; I would nob allow her to carry alight. " Who is there ?" she asked. The answer came, " All right, M." She was in such a state of agitation that she fumbled at the lock. I pub my hand warningly on her shoulder, and the door was opened. "What did you keep me so long for cried Maxwell, as he entered. "Is bhab you, Louis? Everything's ready, What the-" ', Before ho could get out another word he was seized and handcuffed. I blew my whistle, and Jack came up. Directing him in an undertone to remain in the passage till I called for him, I followed Wheeler and Bob (iarlick into the room where they, had conveyed their prisoner, Mrs. Fordham having run in first. She was panting as though she had lost her breath. Maxwell had said nothing more in the dark passage, his impression being, of course, that the police were upon him, and that silence would best serve him. When I entered he was safe in the grasp of my assistants, and was glaring ab Mrs. Fordham and Louis, neither of whom had the courage to meet his eye. " Have you searched him ?" 1 asked cf my assistants. They shook their heads. "Well,, let us see what he has in his pockets." We turned them out, the slight resistance he was able to make being of no avail. There was a loaded pistol, money, keys, and other oddments, and a pocket-book, containing letters and memoranda. Some of the lettors were old and some recently written. Among tho old letters were two signed by Morgan before the Liverpool affair, the contents of which proved the association of the two men for the purpose of robbing Louis. The recent letters were from Mrs.. Fordham, and my hurried perusal of them left no doubt as to the nature of the intimacy between her and Maxwell. It was a ticklish position for a woman—on one side a lover, on the other a son whom. she worshipped ; but she had made her choice, and there was no retreat for her.

While I was examining the letters there was no sound in the room excepb the rustling of the papers. The truth dawned slowly upon Maxwell, and his face grew darker and darker as he gazed upon the forms of his confederates. He could no longer control himself. " — you all 1" he cried. " What is the meaning of this ?" " You are charged with the murder of a man you knew by the name of Morgan in Liverpool," I replied. " It's an infernal lie!" he shouted. " And you—what have you to say to it!" He addressed this question to Louis and Mrs. Fordham, but neither of the two answered him. " So," he said, between his teeth, while . a deadly pallor spread • over his features, you have laid a trap for me, after all I have done to save you. There stands the murderer"—with a nod of his head towards Louis—"and I am ready to give evidence against him." " What kind of evidence?" I asked. ' " The evidence of an eye-witness," he said. "I saw him do it—saw him strike Morgan/down 1" '.'» '.''Ah.," said I, and I stepped to tho door, and beckoned Jack in. "What do you think of your ghost now, Jack?" His face beamed, ana then his eyes wandered from Louis to Maxwell. "Don't you know atfold pal when you see him ? Bub I forgot. He has something on him which does nob properly belong to him." And as I spoke I plucked the false beard and whiskers from Maxwell's face. " Maxwell!" cried Jack. Then the murderer know that the game was lost.

Time very night, after lodging Maxwell in prison and laying the information against him, I paid a visit to Ellen Cameron. It was past midnight when I reached her lodgings, but I knew she wouldn't mind that when she heard the news I brought. Luckily the landlady of the house was up, or I should hare had some trouble in obtaining admittance ; she had a birthday party, and they were merrymaking. lexplained to her that I had some wonderful good news to communicate to her lodger, and she allowed me to go to hor rooms. Ellen's voice trembled as she answered ray summons at her door, and trembled more when she heard who her visitor was. I called to her not to be frightened, bub to drees herself quickly. "Good news!" 1 cried. "The best of good news I" I was soon admitted. What a picture of neatness that room wag, and how sweet and pretty Ellen looked, despite the trouble she had gone through ! I declare a lump rose in my throat as I looked at her— there! another man had got her, and he was worthy of her, and she of him.

We spoke low because her boy was asleep in the next room, and as she listened to the story I had to relate tears of joy ran down her beautiful face.

I fininhed, and rose to go. "John is to be brought up to-morrow," I said, "and to-morrow he will tie free. Come to my office at half-past nine in the morning, and we will go to the court together. I know you would like to be there to welcome him. That is one of my reasons for coming here at such an hour. Another reason is, that I thought it would bo a sin if 1 lost a single minute in giving you the good news." ' She fell upon her knees, and buried her face in her hands. Tears were in my eyes, too, as I was stealing out of the room. Bub she sprang to her foot and caught my hand, and kissed it. "How can we repay you— can we ropay you ?" she sobbed. "I am repaid already," I said, and I pressed her hand and left her.

, And indeed in one way I was more than repaid. You know the stir the case made in.the papers, and the flattering things that were said of my skill— I am too. modest to set down here. My proceedings were not perhaps exactly regular, and it is quite likely that Scotland Yard would lathor have had the credit of bringing the Myßtery to light. I doubt if they would, ; have succeeded had ib been left to them. And as for what I did, and the way;' I did it —well, nothing succeeds like success'. I became famous—really. And the business that flocked upon me 1 I am in a fair way of making my fortune. No need to go on the stage. All this happened twelve months ago, John and Ellon are in Australia, doing well, and as happy us birds in summer time. We write to each other regularly, and they are continually sending me little presents. Pleasant, isn't ib, to feel that, though many thousands of mites are between us, we shall hold one another in affectionate remembrance to the lasb day of our lives! And then, would you believe it, a week or two ago I was introduced to a young lady so like Ellen that they might be sisters. The moment 1 set-eyes on her my heart wenb twenty to the dozen, and— Bub that has nothing to do with this story. [THE BSD".J On Saturday, June 20, the opening chapters of a new. and brilliant story, by John Strange Winter, entitled "THE COLONEL'S DAUGHTER," will be commenced in the New Zealand Herald, and will be continued on Wednes-

days and Saturdays following. This author has won a very high reputation as a writer of light and pleasant) reading, and the new 'story is' quite equal to anything that has previously come from the same pen. i