THE DUCHESS OF PONTIFEX GARDENS.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLIII, Issue 13325, 3 November 1906, Page 3 (Supplement)

THE DUCHESS OF PONTIFEX GARDENS.

[PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.]

BY G. W. APPLETON. Aathor of " A Forgotten Past." " A Fool and His Folly," " A Tragedy of Error," '• Doubles and Quits," etc. etc.. etc. ■ \

[COPYRIGHT.]

CHAPTER XXI.

"It- you don't mind, gentlemen," said Mrs. Simpkins, " I'll just step outside and break it to him gently like. Don't you think it would be better?" " Certainly," I said, by all means. This is a give and take sort of business. My friend here, Mr. Scrubbs, will shut his eyes to certain facts concerning Mr. Simpkins if lie will assist us to find this old lady. Is that not so, Mr. Scrubbs?" "It is," said Dick. " Simpkins,. of course, we know that is not his real name, madam !" , •' No good hiding anything from you, sir." -' ' ■ ■" ■■■ '■ "Not a bit," said Dick; "but it doesn't matter. Your husband, madam, so far as I can understand, is a very good fellow who has been led astray." " By evil companions, sir." '•■'" Precisely, by evil companions. The old story, Mrs." Simpkins. Now, if you will bring him in here, and he is fair and square to me and tells the truth, there will be no more trouble, understand?" " Yes, sir." " Hut if he attempts to go crooked—" "He won't, sir. Leave it to me. I'll bring him in here in a minute or two." With that she disappeared from the room. When she returned she was accompanied by a -looking young fellow about thirty. He was not in the least abashed as he entered the room. "Morning, gentlemen," he said, briskly. " My •rife tells me you know all about that little job in Pontifcx Gardens, and that nothing is to be said and a bit given if I put you on the track of the. old woman." " That is quite correct, Mr. Simpkins," I said. " Give us that information, and your share in the business will not only be forgotten, but there will be a £50 note for you in the bargain."' "Well, that's reasonable enough in all conscience," he said, " but unfortunately for me I don't know much about it myself, 1, in a manner of speaking, wasn't in the job at all. Beyond breaking through a wall and shifting a bit of furniture about, I did nothing, and even now 1 can't quite make out what the game was all about." "But you must have overheard the conversation of the two oilier men," I said. "Of course, heaps of it—in Italian, or some other blessed lingo. That's what did me, Do you follow me, sir'.'" " Quite. Well, go on." "Well, to tell the truth, I thought their game was robbery. I did actually. Some hidden jewels or something in the next ( house, and when J shifted the furniture for them that night to let them in, and they came back with nothing but, an old lady in a pink silk nightgown, I stared a bit, and blessed little wonder. She kicked like blazes until they tied her feet together; talk, she couldn't, 'cause why—she was gagged. Tiny wrapped her in Lord knows how many fur robes and things, and then went into the house next door again. 1 followed, but they didn't seem to mind, and then I see them pull everything out of the old woman's boxes, and hunt and hunt for something which they didn't seem to rind, and, by the way they slung about their ■inns and humped up their shoulders, and gritted their teeth. I could sec they were cussing awful to themselves." " Didn't they speak at all?" I asked. " Xot one blessed word. sir. They seemed to know what they wanted to find, and when they couldn't 'find it they came back, leaving everything Jying loose about the place. I shifted the bit of furniture back as they were* carrying the old woman downstairs, and when I followed a few minutes afterwards I heard the man who calls himself Salviato say to the cabman (the old woman and the other chap were already inside). I heard him say, ' Putney.' With that he jumped in too, and away the lot went. "No address at all?" I asked. "Simply Putney, sir. Well, next day. having nothing particular to do, and feeling a bit curious, I thought I'd have a run down to Putney and have a. look round like. So after walking about a bit what should I suddenly see but an open gale in a high brick wall on the opposite side of the road, and Salviato himself coming out of it. _ I thought sure he'd see me, but he didn't, and walked away down the road. So when he had turned the corner T steps across the road, and sees 'Montpelier' engraved on the brass bell plate. The road, or more like a lane, was so narrow and the brick wall so high that I couldn't so much as see the chimneys of the house inside." "But,'' I said, "at all events, you know the name of the road?" "That's just what I don't know. sir. But 'Montpelier' ought to be quite good enough. They would tell you in a moment, say at the post office. Now, gentlemen, you have it, every blessed thing 1 know. If you were to offer me a million pounds I couldn't say anything more. I saw Salviato. the chap who carried the old woman away. I saw him/ conic out of that garden gate. Whether tin- old woman is shut up in the house inside I know no more than the dead, but if you want my private opinion—-that's just : exactly where she is at this very blessed moment.'" . *

There was no gainsaying a palpably honest and straightforward statement like this. Whatever may have been Mr. Simpkins' past delinquencies, I was thoroughly convinced that now. at least, his were the words of truth. So, after giving him certain guarantees of my own good faith in the matter. I left No. 37. Penelope Terrace, buoyant with the hope and belief that, before the lapse of mamdays, the. rescue of the poor old duchess from the hands of her enemies would be successfully effected. "Well. Dick." I said, when we were quite out of hearing, "this thing has panned out all right. It was well managed." "Excellently well, old cock. You developed great and unexpected form in the earlier stages of the performance. Not a half bad sort of chap ,that Simpkins. He didn't take much stock in me. though. He knew. bless yon ! that I was no detective, and, upon my word, it was rather decent of him not to give me away." As I entertained the same opinion. I held my peace and Dick went on : " Now. as my curiosity is a bit stirred up. and I seem to hold a 'hand in this game, what do you say to running down to Putney, and having a quiet look round for an hour or two':" "Done," I promptly answered, and within half an hour or so we duly arrived at the suburb in question. On the way out of the station I stopped a porter. " Do you know Putney well?" I asked. "Ought to. sir; been living here the last fifteen years." '"Oh, indeed! Then probably you know a house called ' Montpelier?' " He cocked his head on one side and reflect..!. " No. sir," he said at last. "No such house in Putney. -The White Lion,' 1 think, would ; be more in the way of you gents.— to the right and close to 'the bridge." 1 thanked him and gave him a, sixpence for bis lack of information, and as we turned away I said to Dick : " Sold ! The Simpkins man wouldn't have done that. I have fallen from my high estate. Let us go to the post office!" We inquired the way to the post office, and to our mutual astonishment found a by no means haughty girl, but a really smiling and obliging one, behind the counter. There was in Putney, I believed, a house called "Montpelier." I explained to her in my suavest manner; but I had quite forgotten the address. Would I be troubling her too much by asking if she would kindly give me the desired information. Trouble! It would be a very great pleasure indeed if I would be good enough to wait a. moment or two until she made inquiries, and with that she disappeared into an inner room. She shortly returned with the information that " Montpelier" was the name of a very old house in Holly Tree Lane— a quarter of a mile's walk from the post office. Anybody would show me the way; but, she added, nobody lived there. The place had been closed for several years, and the old house, it was said, was fast tumbling to pieces. Dick and I exchanged significant glances, then thanked the young lady with great heartiness, and regained the street. " Well, what do you think of it':" I asked. "Charming; and such dashed fine eyes, too!" • J ■ "i wasn't speaking of the girl, you silly, but of her information. What about this house that is tumbling to pieces?" "We had better find out, hadn't we, before we express opinions? At. all events, the interest is increasing, and has gripped me. x

At that, moment, a policeman came' sauntering by. I stopped him, and at once obtained th? desired information. • We found Holly Tree Lane io consist principally of high brick walls*, mostly overhung by giant elms and chestnuts, and littleelse visible. We were not long in discovering the door— wooden one—almost destitute of paint, with the device " Montpelier" engraved upon the tarnished bell-plate. " Hero we are, Dick," I said, after trying the door, which was securely fastened. " We ha.ve now arrived at the point where Mr. .Simpkins left off," said Dick. "And, dash it all. we ought at least to go one better. How tall are you, Perigord?" , "Six-two in socks," I replied. it" And broad in proportion." " I am told so." j." Well, it's a dry day, and my boots are not muddy. So just turn your ugly mug to the wall—stoop a bitand if my "money was not absolutely thrown away' upon a course of gymnastics I'll just take a look at things over this garden wall. It's only about ten feet high.'' The next moment he was standing upon my shoulders. "Well, Dick," I said, "what do you see?" "A thundering big garden, all run to seed," said he, "and a mn.irsion about 30 yards back, the very picture of howling desolation. The quicker it passes into the hands of the housebreaker the better. By Jove! it, gives me the creeps. Nobody could ever exist in that house." "Well," 1 said, "since you are up there —and you are not a feather-weighthave a good look. Do you see anything suspicious at all?" "Well, I'm —!" he suddenly exclaimed, " if there is not smoke curling out of one of the chimneys. That will do. Hold tight. I'm coming down." The next moment he was by my side again. " As true as gospel there is somebody in that God-forsaken house," .said he. " This thing, Perigord. requires thinking out." "It will require something more than: thinking out," I suggested. Why, certainly," said he. "but we can't do anything further this afternoon. Here comes somebody down the lane, and we had better hook it. Suppose we take the railway porter's tip and adjourn to the White'Lie/' And we did.

CHAPTER XXII

Returning to the station a-quarter of an hour or so later we were hastening down the platform in.search of a smoking compartment in. a train that had just arrived, when 1 perceived a, figure a lew pa.ces in front of me which seemed strangely familiar. I at once pulled Dick back. "Wait, a minute," I said. "1 think 1 know this fellow in a light overcoat just ahead of us." As I spoke the man faced half-round without seeming to notice me, and stepped into the train. "All right. Dick. Jump in here—anywhere," and as the train moved off I added : " I wasn't mistaken after all. old man." "Mistaken about what?" asked Dick. " About that chap. It was the Duke of Frangipani: and if he knows nothing about the old girl, as he solemnly assured the duchess, what brings him down to Putney? Is it a coincidence or not?" "Seems a bit odd—that's a. fact." said Dick. " "Quite sure it is the dtike? - ' "Am I sine that you are Richard Molyneux? Of course, 1 am sure, and 1 take it to be a very suspicious circumstance that he is here in 'Putney, of all places, to-day." "The inference would seem to be that he has been lying to the duchess." " Appearances certainly wear that aspect,' I replied. "So much the better if it should prove to b& true. He is the man with whom 1 wish to settle accounts. The mysterious Salviato doesn't concern me, but I have a deeply personal interest in getting even with the worm (I could tread him out of existence in two seconds, Dick) who killed my father. The old girl said that ho murdered him, and she ought to know. How are we going to work this job? The smoking chimney decided it — .-he is there, pour soul! and there is nothing for it but to get her out—shall we do it off our own bats, or I daresay Simpkins would take a hand in it, for instance?" "Leave Simpkins out," said Dick. "Belter to keep our own counsel: you don't know how much there may be in this business before it is. over, It is essentially your own affair, and old Dick Molyneux is at your back; what more do you want? We have two pairs of pretty haul fists between us. and if they are not capable of carrying out a little job like this then we ought to be shot out of hand. ' "So we ought." 1 replied. "We'll do it, but when?" "The sooner the better: what do you say to to-night ... ' - "I'll see what turns up," I replied. "I want to sell my practice, and the matter is in my agent's hands. I had a postcard from him this morning asking me to call at, four o'clock to meet a possible purchaser. So my hands are rather tied, but if at all feasible I'll run down to your place, or, well, leave it open. I'll communicate with you in some way or other," and with that

understanding we parted at dapham Junction. •

At Waterloo I caught auother glimpse of the duke as lie entered a hansom and drove away. I was confident that throughout 1 had been unobserved by him, but that lie had seen and noted the movements of both Dick and myself at Putney I have now very excellent- reasons for believing. That is, however, by the way. 1 walked over Hungerford Bridge to the Adelplii, and was just in time to keep my appointment with my agents in Adamstreet. J. was at once introduced to a young fellow, whose face seemed strangely familiar. You have quite forgotten me," said he. 'I matriculated at Edinburgh during your last year; met you first one night at the Cafe Royal, when a big Australian bounder set about me, and you pitched him out neck and crop. Perkins- my name is— member it'" I had a dim recollection of some happenings of the sort, and at once made the best of my opportunity. ■ '" And so," I said, after we had gone over all the details of the —to him -memorable affair, "we meet again like this*—odd ! isn't it'.' And you think of purchasing my practice, too?—very odd. indeed! You have made yourself acquainted with all the particulars, i suppose?" '" Yes—oh, yes." '' It is well worth the money T am asking for it." I said: "but lha neighbourhood is not a very aristocratic one, and your patients, as a rule, will be people in very humble circumstances. That, however, I daresay, lias been explained to you.'' "' Oh, quite so— thoroughly understand," said Mr. Perkins. '• lam not in a position. to aim very high at present: but it will, I daresay, prove a stepping-stone." " It has been so in my case," I answered "and if you have nothing better to do what say you to jumping into a cab and going with me to lock over my diggings? You can then judge for yourself, have a run through my books and cash accounts, and see what 1 have been doing." "Delighted, I am sure," said Mr. }Perkins, and in another moment we were up and away. An hour later I said to Mr. Perkins: "I am very pleased that you are so well satisfied. When will it suit your convenience to take over the practice " " Oh—at once," lie replied. " To-morrow, if you like. The money is banked. It is a mere matter of a cheque." "Then," said I, always thinking of the Putney enterprise, " why not act as my locum tenens to-night and get acquainted with the sort of people you will daily meet? Jenkins, my dispenser, will give you all necessary tips. He will be here at seven sharp. I'll leave a, note for him with instructions. To tell the truth, Perkins, I want to get away to-nightsomething very important on." " Nothing, I am sure, would give me greater pleasure," said Mr. Perkins, who really did seem to be quite delighted. "I shall be a bit nervous, I dare, say, at first, but there's nothing like getting your hand in. is there?" " Nothing. Quite right, Perkins. When the papers are signed, and the business is closed, I will formally introduce you as my successor, see?" '"Perfectly. All right, then. I shall be at the dispensary here punctually at seven o'clock." With that,, we parted and went our separato ways. I at once turned my steps towards home. I had no sooner let myself in with my latchkey than the parlourmaid burst in upon me with— "Oh, sir." I a.m so glad you have come. There has been some foreign woman here, in and out for hours, asking to see you. I couldn't make out a- quarter what she said, but it's something very important, I believe, and I am expecting her back every minute.'.' " Very well, Mary," I said. " Sh<*jv her into my room when she returns."' I entered my room, sa.t down at my desk, and filled out "a telegraph form. It was addressed to Dick Molvneux. and simply said : "On the White Lion— o'clock." I was attaching a sixpenny stamp to this when I heard the bell ring. A moment Inter the parlourmaid opened the door and showed in a middle-aged woman of very undistinguished appearance, ■who courtesied very humbly as she entered. '• Take this telegram at once to the post office. Mary," I said. "It is of great importance," and as the wondering parlourmaid closed the door behind her I turned to the woman: (To be continued daily.) / _—__—.—