THE SHADOW OF A SIN.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLII, Issue 13032, 24 November 1905, Page 3

THE SHADOW OF A SIN.

[PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.]

—-I —*o , _!_., BY C. 13. C. WEIGALL, Author of "The" Temptation of-Dolce Car rotheiV' " Gunner Jack and Uncle-> John," "An Angel Unawares," "Too Late," etc. ( [ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.] • V;} CHAPTER XX. ' Mrs.. Curtis faced the girl as she turned away?|rom her bedroom door after an ineffectual effort to peep through the keyhole oii her knees. Her figure was a dramatic, one ' and Lavinia Pye started bad, against the door with her hand flung out as if to ward back some ghostly visitant. ' " Why, mum, whatever are you doing here?" she, said shrilly; then, as her eye; took in. the ; torn skirt and the frill of the nightgown sleeve that had soaked - itseli with the blood! from Andrew Morgan's head, her eyes- grew round with fear; :" And there's-.blood on your arm Wood!" ►She 1 shrank back against the wall, foi something in, the venom of Mrs. Curtis eyes stopped her tongue. ' "There'd ',bo' blood on your '.. arm too ii you had been doing what I have, a-killin| I a ! duck for the visitor's dinner," she said. J slowly forcing Lavinia Pye down the pas sage to the back staircase. "If you wen ; doing your work as you should, you laij { hussy, you'd have been at the wash-tub ai: hour.ago." :•■'-,' ( The grip of her steel-like band was im i possible to resist, and Lavinia, giving waj (inch by inch, was panting out her anger ir ' inarticulate disgust within a few inches o | the determined face. ! " A wench like you has no right in this part of the house. The back stairs is foi servants, and the attics, too, for those wht are workhouse spawn." ■ ■• The accusation touched the girl in hei tenderest point, and she flung back the taunt. : : '- .:.-•"■•: '-■ ■•'.-.•.:_ '■-.-'.-, - "Workhouse spawn yourself—let m< alone! Where have you spent the night and what was that noise I heard in tin middle of the night— clatter and a thud ij sounded like? Was' you and the lodge] dancing. a hornpipe on the stairs or xrai you—' * ..;,., ~,,:: '-v_A subtle change swept the, fury fron Mrs. Curtis' face, replacing it by livid feaj that, only her iron self-command could keei in check. . ■: - - A " Since your ears were so clever,'-Lavinis Pye, I'll tell you what I was not a-going to tell no one, for fear of frightening thembut this house is haunted. I saw Mrs, Lloyd's ghost last night, and! it was me tailing downstairs in my fear that you hearc' —for she looked awful, Lavinia, with lie] corpse face and black hair." '"I'll not stay here another minute," saic the girl, swiftly. " I was bora afore 1113 time,.... because my mother got frightenec with a ghost, and'it has stuck to ms througl life. ■■ I can't stay here, Mrs. Curtis,' anc you have no right to expect it of me." ' : ?' "My good girl, I should not 'think 0 'keeping you, for you was going anyhow I ghost or no ghost!" returned Mrs. Curtis viciously. She couldTnot help the slap ir the face, for it was not in her nature tc j bo forgiving; and Lavinia had given hei the worst ten minutes ■'. that she had evei [ spent in her life. But it was a most unwise I revenge, for: the, girl was sharper than sin I appeared to be. and she saw the evident I desire to be rid of her that Mrs. Curth had so suddenly displayed!. • "• ' 1 '.' "You can do'- your own washing then, for I'll go<up and pack my box this minute,' I she cried. /;;■■;•. -■■;.-:y--.. -.-, -,- '.'And'lll come with you," returned Mrs. ! Curtis vindictively, "for I've a good bil of silver and some linen as would adorn youi , workhouse home .very well." 1 I»avittia faced her;-speechless with rage; 'then, seeing that remonstrance was useless where;the. strong,- square figure of the wo aian was concerned,, she changed her mine 4nd marched back to her bedroom, followct ijyv theiioiMess feet; of the landlady. - ') Every ribbon and pin that she etoret away in the small tin box did Mrs. Curtis verify with V malicious grin of triumph and when at last the packing was done, anc Lavinia -'stood: there, a neat figure in c black alpaca gown and a sailor hat, Mrs, Curtis pointed to the door: - "And now be off with you!'' Lavinia drew on her black thread glove: carefully, finger by linger, for ' she was calmer now, ~ and she had ai problem t< work: out in her. mind that steadied hei nerves with its intricacy. . Then she swepl Mrs. Curtis a mocking* curtsey and shouldered her little trunk. 1 "Good day to you, Mrs. Curtis— wash the bloodstains off your sleeve before you do much more. It's unlucky to begir the day with that sign upon you; and 1 hope you'll enjoy the duck for dinner, Mrs, Curtis—you and the lodger—though vol must have gone straying into other people'; hen-roosts to seo the feathers of one, foi the cat killed the last of yours three- days ago." With.which triumphant conclusior Lavinia departed, arid the thud of her tir box rounding the.angles of,the narrow stairs was heard till it .was lost round the cornel of the landing. ,'■■■ When she had recovered a) little from the shock of Lavinia's astuteness Mrs. Curtis rushed down to her bedroom window, thai commanded a view of the front gate, anc watched until the girl left the house anc walked up the path into the high road crying bitterly with her handkerchief to hei eyes. When the sturdy black figure was' a mere speck in the dusty road, the land lady bolted/ and locked the outer doors once again, then flung herself on her bed for ar hour's dead .sleep, but not until every vestige of her nightgown was consumed tc ashes in the kitchen grate. She had a great deal to do,before the Seven Kings opened for its ordinary day's work, and before nine, o'clock she bad will her own hands removed everv sign of the struggle of the night before from the stairs had visited the invalid and found him'stil unconscious, scon to the locking of his'dooi and window, and was behind' the bar read) ip servo out the first pint of beer to the thirsty men who, dropped in from the lime quarries to slake an early thirst. ... Hei smooth face and black sleek hair were unchanged, and she served each customer witii the same guarded expression of interest that characterised her usual attitude. She went about her work outside the house, directing the occasional gardener who had looked in to see how the caibbages were progressing, and arguing hotly with the man who had brought a new barrel of beer, and who stigmatised her later as " the most cross-grained old cat that anyone might come across betwixt Ipswich and the sea." All the time her mind was in the uppei room over the garden, ' from which hei thoughts never seemed to wander for an instant. .-Supposing there was some interna' injury, and Morgan should die on her hands —what would become of her? It was eas\ enough to have contemplated hiding tin body in the first hot' flush of anger and de soair, but now the very bare suspicion o; the word murder had an* ugly sound,- anc she shivered as she fancied to herself thai she could almost feel the rope round; hei neck. A very good knowledge of illness she certainly possessed from, her hospital train ing, and -she knew enough to be aware thai she could deal with this case if it shoulc present no abnormal aspect. But what would be. the outcome of his death or recovery she resolutely refused te consider, for the first time in her life darinj to look no further than the present mo ment. The net that she. had woven, -a-boui her own feet seemed to grow thicker everi day, and the years of her childhood wher she had been young and innocent were re ceding into a distance that seemed almosi impossible to bridge over, even in thought.. As she stood idly by the small window 0 her snuggery in the late afternoon, pressing her scorching forehead against - the coo pane, memory came back to her, and witl memory the black horror of remorse thai is the criminal's portion when he looks de span- in the face. Once she had been a cot tage ciiuld at her mother's kneeonce she hac pulled the cowslips in the meadows with he: companions, as innocent as thev. She re membered the little country church, the choir in which her voice rang sweet ant true, the long walk home on s.umine] evenings, the seen., of the wild roses it the hedges. -Discontent with her positior had 1 betrayed her, and ' she had thought tc fit- herself or a higher station in : life* entering one of the big London : hospital*

at the moment when nursing was among th' 4 faslripnable .... professions .of ..the day. There her handsome face had drawn "npoft her the notice of one of the medical students. She hated to .think of that ;ime and of the .haste with, which she; Had left the hospital," but her career of nurse-house-, keeper to a succession v of-invalids afforded even less pleasant reflection, and she start,ed; to her, feet, almost i-gladly as she scr the figure of Dr. Kenyon coming up the walk. • The sun slanted down upon him as he strode up ' between ; the white lilies and lupins that even neglect could not uproot from ; that. • fruitful 'soil,"and,, looking upon him unseen, 'she was able to prepare herself for the interview,- by one glance at his agitated face. : "Ho has heard something," the quick mind declared to itself, and even, before she told herself that it was impossible she had run through a whole string of denials to every charge that might 'be brought against her. ' i " Good afternoon, Mrs. Curtis—can I see you in your private room?" was Peter Kenyon's short, stern greeting. The landlady of the Seven Kings: curtseyed to her visitor with a servile politeness that was so insolent that every nerve in Peter's body quivered to its touch, i ; " I hope you are well, sir," sue continued, as she dusted a chair with her apron; "and; your dear brother and his lady—so happy,? I hear, and coming home from their wedding "trip: so soon." ,\ , ! " I am not come to talk about my brother, Mrs. Curtis." .. - ... " But surely he must always be in your mind; sir, for I'm sure he is in mine, and you and I have the best cause to ■- <vish him joy, for our lives seam somehow wrapped up in— . Dr. Kenyon . held up liis hand. It was useless to attempt to stem the force cf her tongue, but he had the idea that his question would arrest her attention ' and divert her thoughts to another channel. ' " Did you see a detective yesterday, who came with some inquiries, as to the death —of Mrs. Lloyd?" , The rigid mouth of the landlady twitched, and a. spasm passed over her face oi uncontrollable fear, but Kenyon's _ eyes were on 1 the ground- and he saw nothing. " Oh, yes, I saw him, Dr. Kenyon," she returned, glibly, with a little catch in. her breath. ." He came here straight from you, and he went away as quick as he came, for what could I tell him, or what was I in the mind to tell him? He stop- ! ped the night, he did, and lie went away with a flea in his ear." Her vulgar confidence and confused reiteration of 'her statement gave him a sense of nausea ' as lie reflected that he' was bound to her by a chain that had twisted tightly about his feet, the. loosening oi even one mesh of which would involve Nell—his sister a very tempest oi trouble. 4 : " I hope you told him the truth," he began; then paused, remembering that truth was the one thing that was impossible in the' case. " You need not be alarmed, sir." Her laugh was a grating one, and Ken yon quivered again. "He went off a? meek as a rabbit, and, if you ask me, 1 believe that I put him on quite anothei scent which will occupy his lordship foi some little time." Dr. Kenyon stroked his chin meditatively. There was no reason for him tc disbelieve the plausible tale, and yet the words did not ring quite true. He could not formulate ill his own mind what he dreaded. He was too confused to-be cer tain that' lie felt convinced that Mrs. Curtis and Morgan- were in collusion against Geoffrey—'-for the downfall-'-oi Nell's "happiness. There was of ' course another thought in connection with -Morgan's disappearance, but that 'was preposterous. He—he would not give 'anothei second to its consideration. So he brought his eyes suddenly back to Mrs. Curtis face and spoke what was in his mind. . "I '.think it .right for you .to know that there is a report in the village, Mrs. 'Cur tis, that the ghost of—of Mrs. Lloyd is haunting this house, and that your servant left because ©i the strange noises she heard." .-v. f ' "Has she been to you?" V. With tiger-like ferocity, she spat out hei words, and Dr. Kenyan in surprise stare* at her. " V.~x- : „..* m "Has your servant been to .wti'.,',Sh( had toothache this morning, and earnest my surgery, and she asked hie there tc investigate the noise, and I pt««nised hei to do so." . Mrs. Curtis swallowed her anger with at effort. She was always at her best wher she was facing the enemy, and sheiuxxlec such finesse now as never any woman bac needed before. "Nasty, interfering' little monkey she is, and no mistake,. doctor slie gave me such a piece of her impertinence this morning that I sent her off in double-quids time out of the house!" i "Her mother was with her, ■ and she seemed to regard the whole affair, seriously. I should prefer ,to see the room : Mrs. Curtis." There was something almost sinister in his manner in the eyes of the landlady, and her temper took fire again suddenly,, for she must let him know that she had the upper hand. "And it's not convenient to me to have you going up round my house to-day, tc gratify a lot of inquisitive folks," she shrieked. " There's the door, Dr. Kenyon, and if you dare to come back again with your cock-and-bull stories I'll let the world know what I know of you and yours." Dr.' Kenyon looked at her. his face ablaze with' the dull flame of his misery and shame. . "I would rather have my conscience than yours. Mrs. Ourtis," he said, with a dignity that seemed to lift him far above his surroundings; and, without anothei word, lie turned : and walked . down the path and out through the rickety gate, leaving a. woman behind him whose main thought was one of. craven, desperate terror, for she knew that Dr. Peter Kenyon would not allow matters to rest where they were at the present moment. " (To be continued daily). TO-MORROW. , A TRUE STORY .OF BUSHRANGING - v LIFE. 1 A stirring and i interesting narrative oi three years with Captain Thunderbolt, the notorious Australian bushranger, will be commenced in this journal to-morrow. The story is told by William Monk ton, who was companion to Thunderbolt during the period under review, and. who has,, since repented of his criminal career, and is a reputable citizen of New South Wales. The story is true in detail, and is full oi interesting and exciting adventures. Nc reader should miss it. .7"