THE LONELY BRIDE.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLV, Issue 13813, 28 July 1908, Page 3

THE LONELY BRIDE.

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

BY FRED. M. WHITE, Author of " The Corner House," " The Cardinal Moth,'' "The Weight of the Crown," Etc. t '■ -' CHAPTER XXX.—(Continued.) Something like a cry broke from Hunter's lips, but he steadied himself instantly. "That seems to be improbable," he said. "Not at all," Cattley went on. "Let us say it is your case, for instance. An unknown patient come to you for some slight ailment, and you leave the dispensary for a minute. The bottle vanishes, and so does the patient. Now I am going to ask you a straight question, and I hope you will give me a straight answer. Have you missed a bottle of strychnine from your dispensary' for the last few days? Do not be in, a hurry to reply." Assuredly Hunter was in no hurry to reply, for he stood there staring at his visitors, his face deadly pale; he breathed as if he had some trouble at his heart. "I assure you you are mistaken," lie gasped. " Indeed, I am not," Cattley said, sternly. " Here is the missing bottle. On the bottom of it is a number and monogram. By means of that number and monogram I traced the maker of the bottle. I went even further than that, and actually discovered the chemist to whom the bottle was sold. The name of that chemist was Haines, Highstreet, in this very town." " Ridiculous," Hunter said hoarsely, " as ! if a man could recognise a bottle like that." ■" Well, he has recognised this one anyway," Cattley said coolly. "There is a little chip on the neck with which the chemist scratched his thumb when he was filling the bottle. He has only sold one lot of strychnine for some considerable time, and he was good enough to look at his books and give us the name of the doctor to whom ho had sold the poison. Is there any need of me to mention that doctor's name, or will you tell us yourself?" Hunter stood there apparently unable to speak. His face had grown deadly pale, he wiped the moisture from the palms of his hands, he sank tremblingly into a chair. " I certainly bought some strychnine on the date mentioned,' he stammered. " But so far as I know it is in my dispensary at the present moment. I will go and see." "On the contrary, we will come with you,'' Cattley snapped. "You will see that this matter is beginning to assume a serious aspect. I shall be greatly surprised if you find the bottle you speak of in the dispensary. By the way, do you allow members of your family to enter your dispensary? I shall be very glad if you will consult your wife on this point." Hunter crossed the room and rang the bell. In reply to the dingy parlourmaid he signified that he should like to see Mrs. Hunter a moment. There was silence for a moment, then a woman's voice outside protested against being disturbed. Then the door opened and a tall, handsome woman sailed into the room. She appeared to take no heed of Hunter's visitors, but angrily asked him what he wanted. The light of the sun was full upon her face, * "Mr. Cattley, you know," Hunter said. " This gentleman with him is Mr. Max Graham." ' •■■•;■"

"Whom I also know," the woman laughed. "It is just possible that Mr. Graham has forgotten me, but I did him a service a little time ago for which he owes me his best thanks. But lam always one to hold that virtue is its own reward."

■ 1 Max started as the woman turned to him. I He was standing face to face with the one ; whom "he had known as Fenton's elder daughter, Ella '■' — ■". • Cattley appeared to be not in the least surprised by this last development; indeed, his air seemed to signify that everything was moving in exact accordance with his pre-arranged plans. The woman stood there smiling. She demanded to know what was the matter with her husband, and why he seemed so disturbed. " "We have had a rather unpleasant interview," Cattley explained. "It is in relation to the death of Stephen Rice. As a matter of fact, we have traced the bottle of strychnine into your husband's possession. At least, so, we think." ' '"And-1 am going 'to deny it," Hunter 'cried. "I ami not going to permit my good name to be smirched by a mere—" "If you take my advice, you will do nothing of the kind," Cattley said sternly. " There is not the slightest doubt in the world that the fatal: bottle was taken from your dispensary. We will take it for granted that the bottle was stolen, and, therefore, no blame can possibly attach to

you.". "But it is impossible," Hunter protested. "I cannot recall to my mind one single instance when' a patient has been left alone in my dispensary, and I could not suspect one of my servants." . "That is precisely what we want to arrive at," Cattley said. "I presume it is no uncommon thing for poorer patients to wait in, the dispensary when you have to be out on professional business." Hunter grasped at the idea as a drowning man clutches at a straw. It seemed to Max as if Cattley was showing the other a way out. . "I had not thought of that," Hunter exclaimed. I frequently ask patients to call and see me at a certain time mean my poorer patients—and if I am likely to be detained longer than I expected I telephone my wife or the servants to ask them .to eall again later. That is a thing that frequently happens." , Cattley turned to the woman who called herself Mrs. Hunter, and raised his eyebrows interrogatively. She had lost her jaunty air for the moment, and was looking exceedingly distressed and anxious. It occurred to Max for the moment that she was waiting for her husband to give her a lead. But he sat downcast and moody, with his eyes fixed on the carpet. "I, am waiting for Mrs. Hunter to speak," Cattley said.. " There is not much I can tell you," the woman said at length. It is exactly as my husband has told you. Very frequently I get ii telephone message from some patient's house or , call office, telling me that he has been detained, and that if any patients are waiting in the dispensary they are to be told to come again at such and such a time, Sometimes I take the message to the dispensary, and sometimes it is one of the servants."

"That is precisely what I thought," Cattley said. "During the last few days have you noticed anybody suspiciouslooking in the dispensary? Don't answer at random.

But Mrs. Hunter could,give no information on that head. She had hot recovered her easy, jaunty manner— fact, she looked particularly distressed,' as Max did not fail to notice. He felt quite sure that she knew a great deal more than she cared to say, and that she was in a position to throw considerable light on the mystery if she only chose to do so. Cattley rose at length, as if to go. "I am sorry that we have not got any further," he said. "I had hoped for great things from this visit. It t is absolutely certain that this fatal little bottle I hold in my hand was stolen from Dr. Hunter's surgery by some person who had the deliberate intention of, making an end with Stephen Rice. I am not altogether without a clue. . I meant to have gone over to Rice's house this evening to follow up a thread or two which I had unravelled, but now I shall have to go post haste to London instead. I shall be very glad if Mr. Graham will accompany me.". Cattley winked swiftly at Max as", spoke. Nobody else saw the rapid movement of his eyelid. It only remained now for Max to signify that he was absolutely at his companion's service. Mrs. Hunter looked up with a. gleam of curiosity in her eyes. "Will you mind giving us an idea of your clue?" she asked. " Dangerous information to. confide to a woman," Cattley said, with the nearest approach to a laugh that he had yet uttered "but I think things are fairly safe in your hands. The clue lies in the garden close to the little drain where we found the bottle, Little things like those very often weave into ropes that hang people. It may be a missing key, a scrap of braid, or a lost earring. Whatever it) is, don't you mention to anybody what I said about

a clue and a; drain. And now we had better be going." * Hunter pulled himself together and accompanied his visitors as far as the door. All the same, they could see that it was only by a great effort that he maintained the conversation, and that he was generally glad to be quit of their presence. "What are we going to do. n,>w?" Max asked. "First of all we are going to have some lunch," Cattley said. "We will lunch at the George, and as soon as we have finished our meal I am going to call loudly for 3 time-table, and you and I will discuss the best afternoon train to London. It will bo for you to say that you must be back early to-morrow,"to which "I shall make no demur. As a mattered' fact, we shall go by the 3.5 train, because that particular train stops at Yarborough Junction, whence we shall return to Mayfield, and walk across the fields in the direction . of Rice's house, arriving there about dark. We shall drive to the station in a cab — in fact, we shall make our departure as public as possible. This is an essential feature." " But why all this acting?" Max asked. " For the simple reason that we shall be watched, my dear young friend. Unless I am greatly mistaken, we are being watched already. But we need not worry about thatl am playing this game my own way, as you will see presently." " What about the servants at Rice's house. Surely you don't want them to know what is going on." "They won't," Cattley chuckled. As a matter of fact there will not be a servant on the premises after five. 1 have arranged all that, and as I possess a latchkey there will not be the slightest tiouble to get into the house." "And what do you expect to find when you get there?" .', Well, it may be a great deal, and it may be a very little," Cattley explained. "Time will prove that. And now let us go and have our lunch. Before many days are over everything will be satisfactorily settled." , They took their lunch in the coffee-room of the George Hotel, and over the meal Max had many questions to ask his friend. He was not a little puzzled, for instance, to find the mysterious woman of Fenton's farmhouse playing the part of Hunter's wife. He wanted to know also how Cattley had come to know the woman so intimately, • . "It is a long story," the latter said. "I used to know old Fenton years"before I left England. You must not forget that he-was a man of good family, ana that he occupied a good position before he married his gipsy wife. When I came home there were certain things connected with the bygone affairs in which Fenton was in a position to help me. You must, know that my early past was by no means a creditable one, and it suited my humour for Fenton to believe that I am as bad now as I was when I went away. You heard Garden say that at one time Hunter had been on the stage, and there he met Ella Fenton, who might have made a great reputation for herself but for her bad temper and eccentric habits. Every now and again she goes back to the stage, until she quarrels with her manager and returns home once" more. But all this will be explained in clue course. Nowlet us go through the formula of calling for a time-table and fixing on our train." The thing was done at length, and presently the two were in a first-class carriage bound for London. The train was on the point of starting when Cattley pointed out to Max the bent figure of an old woman creeping timidly along the platform in search of a seat.

"I told you we were being followed," he said. ."You will be surprised when I tell you that that admirably made-up old woman is no less a person than Mrs. Hunter. You want to know how I know that. Do you see that man standing by the bookstall? He is one of my spies that I left outside Hunter's house with instructions to keep his eyes open. As the woman passed he caught "my look and pointed to the bent old figure, whereby I knew whom I had to deal- with."

"Admirable, admirable," Max cried. There is one thing you seem to 'have forgotten. How are we going to get away at the junction. Won't that -be rather awkward ?"

Cattley explained that there would be nothing awkward about it. He had foreseen something like thus, and his spy had instructions to act accordingly. On reaching the junction there appeared to be something of a disturbance in a third-class carriage a little lower down the train. Cattley stepped swiftly on to the platform and pulled Max after him into the shelter of the refreshment-room.

"That's all right," he explained. "My man managed the whole thing very "creditably. Much the game kind of thing will happen at Paddington, and Mrs. Hunter will naturally assume that she has missed us in the confusion of the mon>«nt. No - v let us get back to May field and wain a? far as our destination. '

Mayfield was reached at length, and the two strolled across the fields in the direction of Stephen Rice's house. They stopped for tea at a small roadside publichouse, and they lounged smoking in the fields till it was quite. dark. 'They came into the grounds presently without being observed by anybody; the aid of the latchkey Cattley passed into the house. It was absoutely dark by this timej and Max wondered how they were going to manage. He did not need anybody to tell him that this expedition was a profoundly secret one; he knew perfectly well that it would be dangerous to use a light. But Cattloy seemed to have made all these arrangements with care and precision. He.fumbled about in the hall for a moment, having closed the door behind him, then he produced a dark lantern.

" Nothing like prudence in these affairs," he said. "We will go into the draw-ing-room now and slightly open one of the windows leading to the lawn. It is just at this spot you will remember where Carden found the bottle of strychnine. Come along." By the aid of the lantern they found their way to the drawing-room window which Cattley proceeded to unlatch so that it could be*, opened without any noise. He pulled the blind up so as to convey the impression to any trespasser that it had been overlooked owing to the carelessness of a servant. Then he sat doggedly down to watch. Max asked no questions, he felt that Cattley was in no mood tp be communicative. He would have liked to smoke, but. Cattley sternly forbade. anything so imprudent. 'The hours crept on till a clock on the mantel-shelf struck twelve. It was intensely dark, though it seemed to Max he could see the outline of Cattley's figure crouching on the floor. Presently the latter touched his arm and whispered in his ear.

"It's coming," Cattley said. "Can't you see something outside, moving across the grass towards the drain?" Surely enough Max could make out something creeping towards the house. A moment later and the French window was pushed back and Cattley was outside. Max paused irresolute, hardly knowing whether his services would be required or not. He could make out now the two figures drawing closer together; it seemed tc him that he could hear a faint cry and the tramp of feet on the gravel. Then there was. another sound suspiciously like a blow, followed ■■ by a scream which was checked as if somebody had clutched a throat and was strangling tihe life out of a human body. " Not that way," Max heard Cattley say hoarsely. " Not that way—you will find it a little more to the right." , (To be continued daily.) ■