A FOOL AND HIS FOLLY.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLII, Issue 12854, 1 May 1905, Page 3

A FOOL AND HIS FOLLY.

[PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT ]

BY G. IV. AI'PLETOX,

Author of " A Forgotten Past," " A Tragedy of Error," " Doubles and Quits," etc., etc.

SYNOPSIS OP PREVIOUS • CHAPTERS.

CHAPTERS I. AND It.—-The story is told by one Frank Bracchritlge regartftng his cousin and ward, Reginald BraecbrUlge, of Twyford Hall, Suffolk, ii scapegoat, whoso father left a will bequeathing his property to Reginald, who is not to come into it until he has attained the age of 25. About two years after his uncle's decease Frank lias a summons to Paris by an anonymous writer, who informs him of Reginald's doings. He sets off at once. but fail* to find Reginald, and. in the course of his search, is shown a telegram which purports to be from Reginald in Brussels, who stales that lie has had to leave Paris at a moment's notice. \t ten that same evening Frank catches a train for Calais. lie recognises in his sole travelling companion the woman who had a struggle with a ruffian some months ago. The recognition is mutual: and she enlists his help onoo more. At Calais a porter shouts, " A telegram for Madame la Baronne flavinskv." This lady claims it, reads, and turns pale. She asks Frank to look after lier trunk, and see it placed in the cloakroom at Charill" Cro«, and gives him the voucher and the key. Kt the Cusiom'shouse it is opened, and discloses the corpse of his cousin Reginald, in evening dress. CHAPTER HI. 1 doubt if it is humanly possible to conceive of tin innocent man being placed in a move startling and awkward position than I was at that moment. My senses suddenly went reeling. My lips refused even to frame an exclamation of horror. I was completely overborne by the ghastliness of the situation. The Customs official gave me one keen and penetrating look—-and then, with an almost imperceptible lifting of the brows his glance travelled over my shoulder towards something or somebody behind me. Th 6 next instant a policeman sauntered leisurely up to the tabic. Meanwhile, a number of curious bystanders, having noticed that something was amiss—a case of smuggled tobacco perhaps—had edged up dangerously near to the open trunk. The Customs official closed the lid with a bang. "I'll attend to you presently, sir," said lie, "if you don't mind waiting until we get. this other lot cleared away. I felt there was something rather delicate about this, and 1 at once found tongue. "Oh, by all means." I answered. , "Oh, certainly, by all means." This "gave.me time in which to recall my scattered wits. The presence of the policeman close beside me was a sufficient earnest of what lay before me. The experience would be unique, but must needs ! be faced boldly. Ten minutes passed. The last cab had driven away with the last remaining passenger, and' item of luggage. There only remained that terrible box with its grisly contentsthe impassive policeman bv my side—-md the Customs officer. The latter called a porter. "Take this," said he, "into the stationmaster's office" —and he motioned to me to follow. The policeman kept step with me as I crossed the platform; the truck, with its terrible burden, followed closely at my heels, and was duly wheeled into the stationmasters sanctum. That functionary shortly put in an appearance. "Well," said lie, what is it?" To- I bacco?" "Worse," said the Customs officer, throwing up the lid of the trunk. then, for the second time, I heard the ejaculation "My God!" and I saw the Customs officer's thumb turned in my direction. The stationmaster faced about and sur- j veyed me up and down as though I was the verv latest thing in criminal phenomena. " What does this mean?" he demanded, in his sternest manner. "I have not the slightest idea," I replied. " Is this your trunk, or is it not?" " Until a-quarter of an hour or so ago I never saw it before in my life.' " In that case," said the Customs officer, " how did you come by the voucher and the key?'' ."They were given me by a lady at Calais, who requested me to leave the trunK in the cloakroom here, and send her a receipt for ; the same— Both of the officials stared at me in blank amaze. The hitherto impassive policeman stroked his nose and smiled in the manner of a very knowing old bird, up to every dodge of the criminal classes. "This is a very extraordinary statement," said the stationmaster at last. "Very. 1 so regard it," I answered. "It is true all the .same." "In that case." he continued, "you do not recognise this body?" " On/the contrary, I do." I replied. "It is the corpse of my cousin and ward—Reginald Brace'hridge. of 'lwyford, Hall, in the County of Suffolk." And. as even the policeman ceased smiling, I produced my card, and made a plain statement of he facts as already set down in these pages. "Nevertheless-." I added, "I quite understand my position, and that until I can substantiate what I have said 1 mast consider myself under arrest*."

"I am afraid." said the stationmaster in a half-apologetic tone, for to outward seeming lie had been somewhat impressed by my explanation. "I am afraid that, under the circumstances, there is no other alternative. We are bound to place the matter in lie hands of the police. The body must go to the mortuarr. and a coroners inquest will follow. Meanwhile mv duty is to give vou into custody at once. \ou quite understand that, sir?" "Oh, quite," I replied; "you could not act otherwise. Bow-street, T suppose," I added, turning to the policeman."

"Yes, sir.'' Then quickly followed the one " sensation" of mv life: that of being led by the arm. as the rigorous custom is, through the Strand to that world-famous but ignoble bourne. Many people paused to look at me as I passed by with such jauntinesK as 1 could command", but happily, owing to the early morning hour, I encountered neither friend nor acquaintance on that irksome journey, and it was with an absolute sense of relief that T found myself at last within what at that moment I felt to — however incongruous the idea may seem— truly hospitable walls. There was something degrading to be sure in being thrust behind an iron bar and .submitting to the interrogatories of a not over-polite inspector, but conscious of my innocence I had 110 dread of confronting a magistrate with whom, n.s it befell, I had something more than a speaking acquaintance. T need riot enter into the details of what happened in the course of a few brief hours. It, was a novel experience to » from the dock, but having recoveied my composure T related as concisely as possible my curious adventure in the Calais express, suggested that police inquiries should he at once made to confirm my statement, that a telegram had been delivered in Calais station to the Baroness Slavinskv, and to further ascertain if the address she had given me, viz., the Grand Hotel in Paris, was correct or not. Pending these investigations I pleaded for bail, of liowevei a substantial nature the magistrate might tee I justified in imposing. That .stipendiary, however, with a look, at least, of regret, expressed his conviction that the case was of too serious a nature as it stood to admit of bail, and a curious sensation it was as, under remand, I went rattling over the stones that sunny afternoon, with my fellow prisoners in the Black Maria toward Hollowav Gaol.

I do not earn •'.<» recall the experiences of that awful night. Onlv this: just before the jangling of lie prison bell called ii) to knee-service on my cell floor, a hitherto untliought of reflection suddenly sped through my brain. Reginald dead. I had become the* sole legatee of my uncle's fortune, and should 110 corroboration of my statement be forthcoming, here, as it would surely occur to the judicial mind, was the strongest possible motive for my connivance. at least, in the doing to death of n:v hapless young relative. That I had been befooled by the lovely baroness was now self-evident, and yet our meeting had been quite an accidental one. ]j was by pure chance, after all, that: I leaped into her compartment at the Gare dn Nord. For preference I would have sought a smoking carriage, and in that case some other poor unfortunate would have found himself in my present woful plight. What a fool I had been to go to Paris at all! Why. for the first time in my life, had I given heed to an anonymous

letter? And what was the meaning of that telegram from Brussels, accurately t* * as it was, for my appearance at the . u Scri'be? A hundred reflections sue these, one tumbling upon the heels ° ,-' . other, were rushing through my when surcease suddenly came. My cell was flung wide open, and a grim m blue, who was no respectay of pe > sternly recalled me to the sordid realities of my position by pointing to a* d , bucket and certain brushes and clout , • , giving me my first lesson in the duties practices of ft charwoman. . ' I spent two terrible (lays m Hollo 7 Gaol, and then deliverance came. iosice inquiries Lad conclusively established < tain facts as stated by me. " - • • . A woman answering to my description in every detail had received a t?^g. . m upon the arrival of the express at Laiai». The same woman had personally e ß is , ' , the trunk' containing my cousin's qeaii 00 y at the Gare dn Nord. For several weeks she bad been staying with a maid at Grand Hotel, under the name of the Baroness Slavinskv. A porter at the hotel and < cabman who drove her to the station ha given a perfectly accurate description of the trunk. No man, at any time that day, had been seen in her company. _ Under these circumstances the magistrate at Bow-street had consented to accept bail for my appearance at the court five days thence, in the sum of one thousand pounds. The most extraordinary feature in the business, however, was that no trace of the woman could be found. She had not returned to the Grand Hotel, nor indeed could anybody at the Calais Station remember her returning to Paris at all. She had quitted the station immediately after the steamers departure, and, to all intents and purposes, had there and then disappeared into space. 1 This would have been disquieting enough but for the cardinal fact that I was once more, in a sense, a free man. Not a shred of evidence bad been adduced to connect me with the crime, and I felt i* to be a moral certainty that upon my next appearance at. the police court 1 would be honourably discharged. Before that came to pass, however, 1 had ,to go through a further ordeal, and, even then, I found that my real troubles were but just beginning.

(To be continued daily.)