THE DEATH-WHISTLE.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XL, Issue 12240, 8 April 1903, Page 1 (Supplement)

THE DEATH-WHISTLE.

BY RICHARD MARSH, Author of " The Twickenham Peerage," " The Goddess: A Demon," "The Beetle: A Mystery," "In Full Cry," " The Crime and the Criminal." etc., etc. CHAPTER XLlL—(Continued.) The inspector, picking out eleven men, placed them under a sergeant, with instructions to detain anyone who attempted to emerge from the premises. The others, following each other over the ladder, vanished over the wall. Mr. Daniells addressed Mr. Carpenter. ''Are you coming with us?" "I'am.''' The marquis, unasked, announced his intention. " Count me in. Where you lead I will follow. All I want is to get to my family by the shortest road." Daniells shook his head. '" You quite understand, my lord, that we can assume no responsibility for whatever happens. I oughtn't to have let you come. It's irregular." " My life has been irregular up to now ; it's only tit and proper that the end should be in keeping." "The end? What do you mean?" He looked at the other sharply with keen, inquiring eyes. The marquis laughed. "1 mean that I'll be obliged by your requesting your friends not to monopolise that ladder unduly long." The ladder was scarcely high enough. Reaching the top one had to lever oneself on to the wall. Daniells balanced himself momentarily on the summit. "What's down there?" * Seems like some sort or shrubbery. 'Ware how you come. Without a light it isn't .easy to see where you're going." • Presently, all were over. As the speaker had said, the 'whole garden seemed to take the form of a large shrubbery—that is, so far as they were able to ascertain. In the prevailing darkness it was difficult to make out their surroundings. They stumbled over unseen obstacles, against branches which only became visible too late. They seemed to have suddenly entered a place of mystery. Sounds were audible for which there were no ostensible causes. All at once from someone there came an exclamation which was louder than the other. The inspector's voice inquired into the reason. " It's me, sir," replied the unseen person. " I've tripped over a root or something ; afraid I've twisted my ankle." The inspector was unsympathetic. " Not you. You'll be all right.if you stand up and pull yourself together. What's this —a path?" It appeared that it was; also that it ran round the house. , " Shine a light here; someone, and let's see what this is." . The shutter of a lantern was opened ; a bright ray ran up and down, to and fro, sufficient to show that the path on which they were was a narrow and a winding one. Reclosing the lantern, they followed it as best they could towards the left. " Place is like a maze," grumbled the inspector. "In this light a man might keep on walking round and round, and come to nowhere after all." " Ir. the meantime,'' murmured the marquis, " my family is being slain." "Here's another path," observed someone in front. " Why, there's two : they branch off to the right and leftthis one goes straight on." ' " That's all right. You pay your money and you take, your choiceto find that they all lead nowhere." " The one to the left ought to lead to the house. Hullo! we're right up to itthis feels like a wall. . Let's have another glimpse of light here, and let's see where we are the place is as black as Hades." Again a shutter was turned. A gleam of light ran up and down a building which was right in front of them, so close that if they had taken another step the leaders would have struck their heads against it. As revealed by the lamplight a door stared them in the face. " I see how it is," exclaimed Mr. Daniells. " We've struck the covered passage which leads . into the house, and this is the door which opens out of the passage into the garden. What we have to do is to get through it. I expect that path we've left goes right round the house. Barnes, you take some of your men along it and station them within easy hail of each! other mind, you chaps, you're down on anyone who tries to pass. Leave me ten. I'll wait here till you come back. Be as quick as you can." ! Doubtless the inspector ordered to the best of his ability, but under the circumstances rapidity of motion was difficult. He and his men moved oft"; they heard them tramping as they went —their occasional stumbles. "It strikes me," remarked the marquis, " that either the house is empty or else its inmates are intent on some very engrossing business. If they were merely fast asleep they'd have shown signs before this of being roused by the row we're managing to make." " They're too much engagedthat's what it is, and probably the last thing they're expecting is a 'visit from us. Mr. Bruce never let them have the least idea that he was communicating with us. They think they've got him all to themselves by himself. When they see us they'll look —and act funny, too, unless I'm wrong. Barnes is taking his time." " It isn't easy to make out the geography of an unknown garden on a night like this. You don't want him to leave them a chance of getting —he has to post his men." Some minutes passed. They could hear the diminishing tramp of the police officers as they passed farther round the house. Then there was silencealmost ominous silence. Then footsteps were heard returning towards them along the unseen winding path. "Here's Barnes!" " And time it was Barnes. Hullo '. What's that?" There was a sound within the house—a sound which startled those who were without. "It's a pistol shot "By George, it was a pistol shot! That sounds as if someone was inside, and as if business was being done." " Break the door down! Don't wait f.or Barnes! While we're waiting murder's being done." This was the marquis. His tones betrayed excitement. In comparison Daniells' voice, though eager, was business-like and cold. '• " If we give the alarm before his' men are ready the whole lot of these chaps may get away scot-free. Who has the cold chisels and the hammers?" " Here you are, sir." "Is that you, Barnes? Placed your men air right?" ,',..'■.■ "So far as I can see in this darkness." The sound within the house was repeated; a second shot was heard. The marquis' excitement grew.apace. "Confound vou, Mr. Daniells! What are you keeping us hanging about like this for? It's sheer murder!" "Keep calm,'my lord. Now, yon men there, open the door." In a surprisingly. short space of time the door was opened, arid they streamed through it, to find themselves in pitch darkness. " Let's have some light." Lanterns gleamed, to- disclose" that they were in the covered passage which led from the street to the house, and that the hall door was closed in' front of them. Mr. Daniells' instructions were short and pithy. " Break open that door." Instantly chisels and hammers were carrying out his orders. Under their persuasive influence the door was being wrenched from its hinges. ' ..... ..... CHAPTER XLHI. ' WITHIN'. •' ■'-..-" ''; It was the sound of that hammering which Mr. Chaffinch heard in -the upstairs room, and which shortly penetrated to the consciousness of his companions. Each man seemed to hold his breath to listen. The fashion of "their faces changed. ,rßage and lust of cruelty $ fading for a moment into the background, gave place to -.''something which was almost fear. : With odd unanimity ; all ' eyes turned " towards : the door. ;- ' Mr. , Waterson voiced the common doubt.

"What's up now?" The woman who had lured Netta answered. . '■~.■•''. " I'll go and see." "Do! Someone catch hold of that girl while you're gone; she's marked dangerous." The woman hurried out. There was no necessity for anyone to take her place in guarding Netta, who was already held by three or four. The noise below seemed growing louder. The threat which it conveyed was unmistakable. Men were producing revolvers which had hitherto been hidden; Mr. Chaffinch, whose huge countenance had assumed a pasty look, deprecated their appearance. " Put those away. Remember, gentlemen, that you're in England, and that here that sort of thing won't do." The tall, thin American was tire only one who commented on the hint. " I reckon lead's lead, even in this darn country. It's a- stopper." Waterson asked a question of Mr. Chaffinch. " Is there any way out for us?" " There's only the one entrance." "Then if it's' the cops they've got us like rats in a trap." " But how can it be? They've no reason to suppose that we are here." The Jew, Sam Brown, interposed, with a jerk of litis elbow towards Mr. Smithers. " Haven't they ! What price him?" " He'd no notion where he was coming to." ■ " Perhapis ; but he's' fly enough for anything, he is. If it is them I know how they got on to us—through that blamed cabman." "You think." added the tall American, " that that cabman he was so anxious to patronise at the Circus was a friend of his?" "That's about the size of it. I wish I'd seen him hung before I got inside his blamed cab " "What's that you're talking about?" asked Waterson. Before any could answer the woman came hurrying in in evident perturbation. " There's a crowd of men at the door, and there's more in the garden ; but it's so dark I can't see properly." " It's the tecs., sure enough !" cried Brown. " He's given us away! I believe it's been a plant of his from the beginning." The tall American pointed his revolver at Mr. Smithers. . " It's the last time he shall give me away." He fired, but Mr. Chaffinch, rushing forward, struck up his arm. The bullet lodged in the wall.

" What did you do that for?" he demanded, angrily. « " Don't make things worse than they are already, you fool," retorted Chaffinch. "If the tecs, are on to us I don't mean to stand my trial for murder, if you do." " Gentlemen," exclaimed Waterson, " it's been suggested to me that we put out the lamps, then, scatter over the —each man for himself. It seems to me that that'll be our best- chance."

Scarcely were the words out of his mouth than Kronberg, without waiting to hear what was the- opinion of the company, springing on to the table, blew out the lamp which was suspended in the centre of the room. • Another lamp, a common one, stood lighted on the mantelshelf. "Steady there cried a voice. "Let's have the door open before gpu leave us. all in darkness!"

"And let me make my mark upon that beauty !" Again the American fired at Mr. Smithers ; again Mr. Chaffinch thrust aside his pistol arm, and again the disappointed marksman turned on his associate in anger. "■See here, my fat friend, do you want some lead in you?'' • There was a crash below, which seemed to set the whole house in a tremor. " They've got the door . down! Put out that light !".'•- ' Someone dashed the glass lamp off the mantel on to the floor. Fortunately it became extinguished as it fell; it was obvious from the sound that it had "Been shattered into fragments. In the darkness which ensued there arose a singular hubbubof voices, and of men making towards the door. Mr. Smithers was heard above the din. " Netta!" he .shouted. " Netta.!" His wife answered from the other side of the room with a stifled cry, and then a voice addressed him, belonging to someone who was standing close at his side. " Now, my friend, don't you disturb yourself about Netta. You talk to -me. It's my turn to have a gun. And a tickler. Perhaps the tickler'll make less noise." The prick of a sharp point in his arm made it plain to Mr. Smithers what the speaker meant by a " tickler." It was evidently some sort of a knife—as, indeed, his further words explained. " If I cut your head clean off your shoulders • your friends coming up the stairs may have what's left of you, with my best compliments." . If the speaker proposed to put his bloodthirsty suggestion into actual execution he reckoned without his host. Although Netta, in her desperate dash to effect her husband's freedom, had only sundered a few of the cords which bound him, she had yet done more than at first appeared to bring about the end she had in view; for, by judicious movements of his muscles, he had taken advantage of the cords which she had cut to loosen the others. When the knocking had been first heard without he alone had kept his head, for he alone, had been prepared for it. In the confusion which followed he had busied himself by straining every nerve to improve on what he had already done, to such good purpose that, when he felt that point entering his flesh, he had succeeded in almost entirely freeing his right arm. lb needed but that prick to supply a final impetus. . With sudden rage he put forth his entire strength— arm was free. He gripped the other by the wrist, and, taking him wholly unawares, twisted the knife out of his hand.

" You beauty !"' exclaimed a voice. " Then it'll have to be lead !" Mr. Smithers felt something cold touch his forehead it was the muzzle of a revolver. He wrenched his head aside, striking out blindly with the knife, which he had gained possession. It came into contact with something. There was an exclamation of pain and fury. Coincidently the weapon was discharged. The flame scorched his skin, but the bullet missed him. That something serious had happened to his assailant was shown by the fact that the weapon went clattering to the floor, while his voice was heard declaring : " 1 do believe the beauty's hacked my hand off at the wrist!" Mr. Smithers, finding himself the recipient of no further immediate attentions, began to make eager use of the knife to sunder his remaining bonds. The encounter; as it —had occupied but a moment. Chaos still reigned in tile room. The extinguishing of the lights had apparently caused its occupants to forget their Bearings. Judging from the sounds, they experienced a 'difficulty in. finding the door. Suddenly a voice exclaimed : " Look out! They're coming up the stairs!" Confusion became confounded. Men seemingly came into collision with each other, sotoe pressing forward, while others pressed •back. Oaths and execratipns filled the air. Al! at. once authoritative tones were heard without. ;.-. • " Show a light therequick ! They're in this room.'" ••'■'■• Bull's-eye lanterns gleamed through the doorway. Men endeavoured to escape the channels of light which they opened out in front of them. Mr. Daniells thundered an inquiry. • " Mr. Smithers, are you in there?" '•'l'm here all right; but they've got my wife ; * ' "Andrew!"' came, a shout, which Mr. Smithers recognised. ■ , , "Alec!"'' he replied. The marquis came rushing down one of the channels v of light it threw his figure into vivid relief. He had his hat off, and was apparently waving it in exultant salutation to his cousin. There was. a shot. He threw out his arms, on either side of him. as if to prevent himself from falling, and fell, crying, as he went tumbling backward: That's got me!* Where's Slum?" In the confusion and uncertain light it was impossible to see who had fired., Only Mr. Chaffinch was heard protesting.- .:;. " Gentlemen! gentlemen ! none of that, I beg of you!.- Officers, I call you to witness that we are not responsible for;that" shot. We surrender!" . ; -, ,'*- ... . ...' v. A lantern was turned full on to him. Mr. Daniells was seen standing in the doorway. .- ;"I know youyou're:, Augustus Chaf- [ fixch; and you ...'. know; i me^l'm. George

Dauiells. There are forty constables in the house and grounds. You chaps have done enough mischief already; if you're wise you'll act on Mr. Chaffinch's suggestion and do no more." Someone struck a match. It was seen to be Kronberg. Climbing" on to the table he lighted the centre lamp which he had himself put out. '* Let us see what we are doing," he remarked. There was another shot ; someone else dropped on to the floor. " Who's that?" demanded Mr. Dauiells. The tall American was seen to be lying in a heap. Chaffinch explained. " It's Philip Fentum ; it. was he who fired the other shot." Such was the presumption, though it was never actually proved. He had blown his own brains out, preferring self-destruction to the fate which he knew was certainly in store for him. The officers entering began to take possession of their prisoners, no one offering the slightest resistance. ' Messrs. Carpenter and Dauiells between them freed Mr. Smithers from the remainder of his bends. " Are you hurt?" " Not seriously, but—" lie had raised himself to his feet. The agony caused by the restored circulation was too much for him. He sank back with a groan ; his head drooped over the arm of the chair, and he fell into unconsciousness. CHAPTER XLIV. THE MARQUIS AND MARCHIONESS^ "You-see it was the chief whom Slion was calling." They had removed the Marquis of Skye to the great house in Park Lane. fie had insisted ; and as, in any case, it was only a. question of hours, it seemed to the doctors that it did not matter. The bullet had produced internal hemorrhage which was beyond the reach of medicine. The marquis was bleeding to death. It was between two and three o'clock in the morning. Beside the bed were his cousin, whom we have known through the greater part of this story as Francis Smithers, and his wife, Netta. Both looked as if they had been in the wars. Netta, in particular, was disposed towards silence. During the last few hours events had come marching upon her with such breathless rapidity that it was not strange that she felt bewildered. And now, scarcely had .she escaped what was worse than death, when she found herself in this great house in the presence of this dying man, confronted by the fact that she was within measurable distance of becoming the wife of one of the greatest of England's peers. No wonder that she asked herself if these things could be happening in a world of dreams.

The marquis was conscious of.no pain. On the contrary, he was completely at his ease. More so than were the watchers at his side. Only his voice grew ever fainter. He spoke to Netta, who regarded him with the strangest mixture of awe and pity. He was a little beyond her understanding. "I • am, sorry, cousin, that our acquaintance has. been so brief a one; but I comfort myself with the reflection that knowing you has enabled me to die in peace. I am persuaded that I am leaving the Bruces in safe hands." He watched her in silence for some seconds, seeming surprised at the tears which were rolling down her cheeks. He put out his hand and touched one with his fingers. "Why, it's a tear! You shouldn't cry. It isn't worth it. Between yourselves, it'll be the best thing for me to be dead. Everything I've cared for has been dead some time. And I'm tired; you don't know how tired one gets. Besides, I'm leaving behind so excellent a representative ; one who'll be in every respect a better chief than ever I have been." " That is not so." Andrew was standing by his wife's side, as she kneeled upon the floor. It was from him that the point-blank contradiction came. "It is so ; your little finger would make a better chief than my whole body." Then, to Netta, " You don't know my cousin ; although .you've ' married him. He's . the .dearest, fellow, but he's had a. deal of double. One- woman destroyed him it's- only fair that another should build him up again. You'll not bring him any hurt or harm." "I'll try not; I'll try hard." "You'll not need much trying. I thank you for having married him—it's a compliment to the family." That was the last set speech he made, and j it was uttered with a smile. There came from him at intervals a few disconnected remarks, but they became rarer and fainter. 1 At last he said something in so low a tone of voice that she had to bend over to catch what he said'. " Kiss" he whispered, and then stopped, as if his strength was spent and he could say no more. ■ But she understood, and kissed him. And her husband kissed him too. - • i Almost immediately afterwards the wailing sound of bagpipes seemed to be born© on the wind past the window. "What is that?" she asked, for up to that moment' everything had been very quiet. "it's Shon." Her husband lifted her up from her knees, and took her in his'arms. " Alec is dead."

Later in the day the husband' and, the wife talked together. Youth is elastic. Its moods soon change. Nettai had had, a refreshing and a dreamless sleep. When she awoke the world looked brighter. After all this man had been nothing to. her—the acquaintance of an hour. And he was dead. There was an end. It was the singularity of the position which made its strongest appeal to her. She said to her husband : "Are you really the Marquis of Skye?" . " I am afraid I unfortunately." . "And am I the marchioness?" "You are! That burden is laid upon you." But this time he smiled—for he perceived from something which was on her face that she might not regard it as such a burden after all. She drew a long breath, as if to assure herself that she was awake. '."••■•'... "And the other day I was cleaning the lodger's boots—and you were the lodger." He drew her towards him with a laugh. " You Will admit that I always protested." " But I did them, all the same. And now I'm & mkrchioness. Oh, dear! I never thought that it would come to this." A sudden thought occurred to her. " Frank— whatever grand names you have I shall always call you Frank." • • . "I hope you always will." " Frank, is it true that you've been married before?" '■• She drew a little away from him, regarding him with anxious eyes. " Perfectly. I divorced my first wife for sufficient, reasons. She has become an actress. You have seen her at the Pandora Theatre. She calls herself Esme Papillon, and is married again to Mr. Frederic Bellamy, whom you saw acting with her in the piece in which she played the heroine." " "Frank! Was Esme Papillon your wife?" - , " She was, once ;to my cost. She ruined me by her extravagance—lock, stock, and barrel. I never was a rich man. When I tried to check her she grew to hate me. And there wero other things. I'll do her the justice to admit that I don't believe that she meant much harm. That was the worst of it; she was incapable of meaning anything. ■ She was that sort of woman—irresponsible. She had acquaintances , who helped her to ruinand me. One was a man ,who called himself my mond Verinder. One night I found her in x room with him. I was very angry. We Fought. I threw him out of the window. He was killed." . ; . , ."Killed!" :. - ■ v Netta's face had grown whiter. "They charged me with murder. It was not murder. I had not meant to kill himThey perceived that themselves. They altered the charge to manslaughter. Of that thev found me. guilty, and sentenced me to' two years'hard labour. • . ■ , " "Frank!" :. ■'•••' She put-her hand upon his shoulder, and snuggled closer to him. ~_ "You will understand that that was not nice for me. • I resolved to put the past— the world in which I had lived—behind me; to submerge my own identity ; to begin life again at some fresh starting-point. So I came to Putney, and fell in love with you; which I-ought not to have done." •-. ." Why oughtn't you to have 'fallen in Jove' with me? You were divorced before you came." - - • . - .-

" Oh, yes ; I was divorced before I came." " Then why oughtn't, you to have fallen in love with* me? Because I wasn't good enough?" \ "The idea! Because 01 my record. A man with such a record as mine ought nob to have allowed himself to fall in love with such r. woman as you ; for her sake, not his." " Indeed ! And, pray, what's the matter with your record? If I found out that a woman was trying— trying, mind — to steal your love from me do you suppose that I shouldn't feel like killing her? And 1 shouldn't he surprised if I did it, too." *' You need never have any fear of anyone alienating my love from you. I owe you too much." "You owe me too much? What do you owe me?" " I owe you happiness." "And don't I owe you happiness?" " I hone to succeed in making you happy before I've done." "Before you've done? What do you think you've been doing up to now? Frank, you're a wise person, but I'm beginning to wonder if, after all, on some points you're not a little dull. Aren't you perfectly aware that long ago you made me the happiest woman that ever lived?" " But happiness in your mouth means one thing, and hi mine another." "Does it? How pleasant! lam learning!" "By consenting to become my wife you restored, me to my self-respect; you raised me out of the ditch into which I had fallen. The consciousness that a good woman had consented to entrust her life to me made a better man of me than I ever thought I should have become again. It is in that sense that I mean that I owe you happiness." "Is it? Very pretty. And excellently expressed. Now, perhaps, you will allow me to ask you just one question. What would have become of me if it hadn't been for you?" " That is a question which neither I nor any other man can answer." "Is it? Then I can. at least supply you with the probabilities. At best I should have been still the household drudge I was when first you saw me. But the probabilities are that I should have been on the streets —a pauper, hopeless and downtrodden. begging my bread. Instead of which you have not only made me your wifethan which no greater honour could have befallen a woman—but you have also made of me a marchioness. No, sir— my dear lord, as I suppose it'll have ito bedon't you ever attempt to drop even the very faintest hint that you owe me more than I owe you ; because" the thing is, on the face of it, so utterly preposterous that if you will descend to such • absurdities you'll put me in such a temper that I'm nearly sure we shall quarrel." CHAPTER XLV. SUMMING TIP. Mr. Chaffinch and his friends met with their deserts; or, at least, with a considerable part of them. For it may be taken for granted that gentlemen of their kidney never do receive all that they deserve at tfca hands of the law. That little book, filled with the secret writing, which Mr. Edney's heir found in safe No. 226, contained matter which proved to be their complete undoing. When Mr. Smithers, having puzzled out the key, went with it, and the rest of his find, to the authorities he was able to -lay before them a history of certain criminal transactions, in which the association had been engaged, which was in its way unique. The "late George Edney, besides being a player of many parts, must have been a man of subtle humour. He had recorded, with circumstantial detail, the particulars of all the crimes in which his , associates had been concerned. It is within the range of possibility that, in bequeathing his ill-gotten booty to his fellow-prisoner, he foresaw the use which might be made of this interesting volume, and chuckled at the prospect. For it is hardly likely that so astute a person could have so misread the character of Andrew -Bruce as to suppose'that" he would be willing to'continue as his posthumous partner in his innumerable rascalities: However that . may have been, the entries which he had 'made with his own hand did settle the fate of his friends, more than one of whom were sentenced to penal servitude for life. Mr. Theodore Ludlow failed oue day to put in an appearance at the office of the bank which lie honoured with his services. On inquiries being made into the condition of his accounts a sufficient reason for his absence was discovered. He had apparently taken a little trip abroad; and, so far as is known, has not since revisited his native land. Of Mr. Sam Swire, his whilom associate, nothing has been seen or heard. Shortly after succeeding to the marquisate Mr. Francis-Smithers-that-was presented the Dene Park Estate to Mr. Sidney Foster. When, the youn£ gentleman naturally hesitated to accept so munificent a gift the marquis told him the whole story of Georgia Edney's ■ legacy, explaining that his chief reason for appropriating it was to enable him to make restitution to the testator's victims. ■ - ;' -• -

One day Mr. Benjamin. Rodway, now a multi-millionaire, asked Miss Margaret Foster to be his wife; and, strange to say, for they hardly ever said a civil word to one another, the young lady consented. "I don't mind." she observed. " I'll marry you. I've done you so much good already that I may as well place myself in a position which will enable me to do you more." - ■..-.: • He pulled a face, for his manners were uncouth. "I don't see what good you've done me up to now." ' - - "That's merely an illustration of your phenomenal opacity. To begin with I saved you from making a fantastic spectacle of yourself on ■at least one historical occasion; and even then you went as far in that direction as you possibly could. I suppose that now you will admit that I was right in all that I said of Netta's husband:' that he is the truest, bravest, noblest gentleman." ' ; . '- • V.' ■ - Mr. Rodway ran his fingers through his hair; he has the trick of it unto this hour. " I tell you what he is; he's the luckiest man in the world !" "My dear Benjaminl shall always call you Benjamin, in full; you look a Benjamin, with your hair standing up so beautifully on end; you're a tidy man! — dear Benjamin, in a sense we may be fortune's fools and playthings; but, after all, there's a certain kind of luck which only goes with character." Not long ago Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Rodway entered on the responsible position of godparents to the infant son and heir of the Marquis and Marchioness of ■ Skye. Both the mother and the godmother perceived,' the moment that each of them set eyes upon him, what a striking resemblance the boy bore to his father. It's extraordinary what insight, in such matters, women have. Compared to them men are as nothing. [the end.] ■• ■, On Saturday, April 11, the first instalment of a new serial will appear in these columns, entitled "THE IRON HAND," by J. MacLaren Cobbax. It is one of the most fascinating stories ever written. Do no' miss the opening chapters in the New Zealand Herald of Saturday, April 11.