IN DEATH'S PROTECTION.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXXVI, Issue 11163, 8 September 1899, Page 3

IN DEATH'S PROTECTION.

A HEAVY, wet sea-fog, out of which guns thundered. " Convict escaped," muttered the people in the villages, most of them with a hope that 110 might get clear away. On tho outskirts of one of the villages, a gloomy-looking house, standing in its own grounds, and surrounded by ornamental clumps of evergreens. It had been occupied now for some months by strangers, a widow and her son; nono seemed to know them", they had no visitors were, to the country folk, a mystery. "I must be near him, Chris," was the widow s plea to he: remaining son, " I know ho is innocent, and I like to feel that lie is not far away— yet how far But, though the convict in the great prison was entered iin the books as Exham, tho widow and her son were known as Murray, The gloom thickened as night approached; darkness would soon settle over all. Through the driving mist, which was now turning to rain, a man approached the house. For tho last ten minutes ho had been lying beneath the dripping shelter of a Portugal laurel. Now, at the sound of distant voices, he had crept from his hiding place. Ho looked round in despair. Through (he thickening gloom he could just discern tho house. Above tho lower windows a heavy string-course .-an; it gave him an idea* there woro but a few more minutes of daylight left; if he could climb up there he veil. bo safe for tho next eight hours or so. He thought it seemed posible; there was a waterspout, and some fairly stout vines of Virginia creeper. Tho voices camo nearer. Ho sprang forward, and after a minutr of wild exertion lay full length upon the 6tono ledge, panting for breath. The voices were close by; he had been just in time. In there you saw him, eh?" Ay, monster 1 I sin um 'bout quarter hour agone!" "In here, men I Spread yoursolvesl" " Right, oh!" " Two of you to back. Keep sharp lookout now! You stay along o' me, Thompson! ' A poaling ring at the door bell, then silent waiting. lie man on the ledge listoned, holding his breath. 6 " Now, young woman, who lives here!" ".Mrs Murray, officer—will you kindly speak soft?" Then a man's voice. " What's thiswhat do you want?" "Want enough, sir. One of tho convicts escaped this afternoon, and was traced here." " Here!" "Yes, sir— only a few minutes ago. I must como in, please, and search the-house." "That you can't do—my mothe. lies dangerously ill." Afraid we must though." Then another voice. _ All, Sergeant Makepeaco! Look here, it's impossible, you know. I shan't allow you in without a search warrant. I wouldn't answci for my patient's life. Mrs. Murray is dangerously ill—dyin(,, I fear." " Well, Dr. Stewart, you see, sir, it's a serious business— you a magistrate." "Yes, Makepeace; and for that reason I tell you to get a warrant—if you can. Why, man, (Ik. prisoner wouldn't bo such a fool as to come here." " I don't know, sir—they generally runs into somo silly place or other—besides, he was seen—" " Ah, well— have to stay outside tho door, and that's all about it. If we find him inside, why—we shall know what to do with him." Tho doctor could not havo explained what made him hesitate in tho middle of his speech, nil absurd ghost ol an idea had crossed his mind that tho wretched convict might havo hidden there after all. The sergeant and his man turned reluctantly away as tho door closed softly behind them. Night had fallen, and tho thick drizzle made it dark as a grave. "He'll bo off sure as ft gun. Wo'll search the outhouses and keep a watch anyhow. This rain hasn't been falling long enough to soften the ground; there'll be ho tracks to follow. I'll get a warrant though." As they walked away, the hunted creature oil the ledge drew a breath of relief, and, letting his head lie on bus arms, hoard through the silence of the night tho soft hiss of the rain as it fell all around him. At any rate, he had time for consideration. For half-an-liour lie lay there in tho darkness, his head buried in his arms, perfectly secure, and thankful for the breathing space. Ho was thinking hard what he should do next. Tho soft, warm summer drizzlo enveloped him and wetted him to tho skin. At last it began to chill him. In discomfort ho raised himself from his warm placo, and shivered. A ray of light shot out into tho dakness in front ol him window! Ho crept towards it, then, cautiously raising his head, ho peered in. An empty bedroom— man's room by the garments hanging on the door. Ho might climb in and steal a suit of clothes! It was a casement window and unlatched. Ho had almost screwed his nerve up to this venture when he heard a voico; another window had been opened further along. He shrank against the wall. Tho voices ccascd. " I'll see who you are," lie said, and again lie crept onward. With infinite caro ho raised his head, and found he could look right into the room past tho edge of the blind. Two men stood with their backs toward him. They wero looking down upon someone in bed. They spoke in low murmurs. Presently the younger turned so that his side face came into view. The watcher, with a sudden gasp, shrank back. Chris ho whispered, astounded. " What was that? Did you hear?" " No, I heard nothing," said tho doctor. " What is it?" murmured tho sick woman. " Nothing, mother; but I fancied I heard someone call ' Chris.'" The man outside had again laid himself flat on tho stone ledge; he was trying to gather, his scattered wits. "Chris! By all that's merciful, they've come here to be near me! That man at tho door said 'Mrs. Murray' was ill. Can it be mother under a false name? If so, I'm safo!" For sudden illumination had come; he had decided what to do. He crept backward to the window into which ho had first looked. "By George I I'll chance it, anyhow," he said, and, listening a moment, raised himself and climbed in. Then ho closed the window ami drew down the blind. Quickly he stripped himself of every stitch of clothing, flinging it under the bed. Then he went to the washstand and scrubbed vigorously at his bands and face; having got these fairly clean, ho deliberately searched the drawers and presses, and, choosing the garment:) which seemed most suitable, dressed himself from head to foot. Then, going to tho glass, lie surveyed the result. " Yes, I shall pass," he said, for ho saw a good-looking, gentlemanly fellow, dressed in quiet taste, who bad a quasi-nautical look, duo to iiis close-shaven face. " I must run the chance of the house boing searched. Hawkins would know mo if they bring him along. I don't believe any of the other warders would. Well, now to see Chris," and, having put out tho lamp, ho quietly opened the dcor. Within the next room death was at hand, : and. tho dying mothe. wailed for her missing son. . , „ "Why is he so long in coming? " Tell her he has been sent for," whispered the doctor; "it will quiet her." Chris bent over and whispered. , "Yes," she said, "I know—and his innocence is proved." , "Yes, mother, faltered Chris. " A-h! Ho— must—liasto. fliore was a silent pauso. " Why doesn't ho come?" And again there was a pause. Suddonlv she called " Dick ! my dear boy 1 " Here I am, dear mother I" Tho two others turned in amazement. Chris shivered and his nerves crawled, the doctor me-ely wondered. Dick advanced to the bed. n "Tell her you're pardoned— gasped Chris. _ Dick bent over and whispered. His mother clasped him and tears filled her dying eyes. "Thank God!" she murmured. But the excitement bad hastened the end. 111 a few minutos tho three stood silent by a corpse. „ ,1 V At last Dick spoke. "Have the police gone? I suppose you know I've escaped?' " Escaped!" "Yes." „ " But.you are all dressed and— "Yes. Dressed in your room." " Didn't you hoar the police at the door then?" , „ "Yes; I was outside on the ledge. "Great Heaven! Then what are W6 to do? Where are your other things?" _ " Under the bed in your room, Chris. "But— not safe here! I shouldn't wonder if they come back. They are back!" For the door-bell rang. „ "Oh, Doctor Stewart, what shall wo do? | said Chris. _ . " Run and bring his things in here, quick! j Chris ran. They flung them under the bod I of death. Hardly had they done so when the house-1 maid ma at the door. I

" Please, sir, here's the p'liceman back, and says he's got a warrant to search the house." t " Let him come up," said the doctor, extinguishing one of the candles as lie spoke, Dick took a long breath—then looked round —there seemed to be no way of escape. The throe listened silently to the steps coming upstairs. As the sergeant entered, holding out the search warrant, the doctor put a finger on his lips, and said, " Full!" The policeman halted. " So you were bound to trouble us, eh?" whispered the doctor. Mrs. Murray has just died; there will be no need lor you to search this room?" "Well—no, sir," faltered the sergeant, "but might wo have a bit mora light just for a minute?" " Oh, certainly," said the doctor, and he lit the other candle with unsteady hand. "These are Mrs. Murray's two sons." The man lifted his eyes— young men faced himhe looked perplexedly at Dick, and seemed to be trying to remember something. It was a moment of intense strain. The doctor broko the oppressive silence. " You can post ond of your men at the door, you know." "Yes, sir; and, of course, you bein' a magistrate—" "Yes, yes, that's all right," said the dootor. The sergeant saluted: then turned, and walked slowly through the doorway. ■'Phew!" ejaculated Dick. The officer halted and looked round. Tho three stood staring at him waiting his departure. Somehow he felt that all was not right. With hesitation ho again turned, and passed out of the room with his attendant. "Who was that feller like, 'Awkins?" "Didn't notice 'im, sergeant." < "Somejne I know. Dashed if I can think who! Well, you stay hero at the door. I'm going through the house, dead or no (load. Tho search was, of course, without effect, and the sergeant was about to leave the house when a thought struck him. He wont back to the death chamber. > "Might I seo them two young gents again for a minute, doctor?" "Yes, T suppose so. But there's only one, now; tho elder had to funeral arrangements, you know. " What! In the night, sir?" " Yes; there's a night train, you know. Here's Mr. Christopher Murray." The sergeant stared at the young man. " Well, sir, your face seems familiar, too." Ho looked sharply, questioningly to tho doctor, who relumed a stolid stare. "Hanged it I know!" he muttored. "Ah, well! good night, gentlemen, both." And he went out. Last year tho member for Montgomery, Tasmania, visited tho Old Country. He had a memorial brass set up in Thorney Church to "Laura Exham, by her loving :cn Richard." "But, Murray, that's not your name? queried the friend who was with him. " It was once," said the honourable member. The friend did not reply. It does not do to bo too inquisitive as to people's relations in colonial society. "What's that great building?" asked the friend, as they came out of tho church. "That? Oh, that's—convict prison."