THE THREE CARNATIONS.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLVII, Issue 14375, 21 May 1910, Page 3 (Supplement)

THE THREE CARNATIONS.

:-> A BY CHRISTIAN LYS, I' ' Author of "The Hcpsworth Millions,''^ The Mystery of Ladyplace." . A London ;| Cobweb." etc,

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

[' COPYRIGHT. CH VPTE.U XX.—(Continued.) Rolut went on poking, and *««**•* BU I B ,"Touted «P, going about her Wrk as though no paralysing Iroubto were upon her mind. When she had finished she * went into her bedroom and closed the door. T d'ed by » high standard she would not have been accounted a religious woman. She was not. .a constant church-goer, and there was no pricking of her conscience when she got into bed without saying her prayers, which she- did \ ery often; but she held to her beliefs, and called herself a Christian. She may not have done her duty towards God—she would have confessed as much—but she never doubted that God was there to be petitioned, and she had faith enough to expect an answer to prayer. He was a last resource in all the crimes of her life, so she went to Him to- ' night. "Kollit, wondering what his wife was doing, looked into the room presently and saw 'her upon her knees. He retreated m haste and silentlv. Before now he hail found his wife perverse after much praying, unamenable to reason as he saw it, and with ideas of right and wrong winch would not fit in with Ins notions at all. He did not attempt to interfere with die religious side of his wife's character, but. at these times when the religious side was prominent, he took precautions, and Kept his doings to himself as much as possible. He judged that, after what had occurred, there was need for precaution to-night: so when he went downstairs presently he was careful to lock the door at the head of the stairs and to take the key with him :•" ■ ' On the ground floor he got a lantern, one with a 'candle in it, which he lit. .tie found the darkness -uncanny, and experienced a comradeship in the dim light. Cam-in" the lantern with him, ho descended to the basement and looked at the trunk. He tried the straps to se3 that they were quite tight, and'he fitted the bent keys . into the locks to make quite certain that they would not turn. Then lie went to . the* ground floor again, and, setting down. !-'-:-'. the lantern beside him, sat on a box and waited. ~ . . ~ • ■ It was midnight when he caught the sound of a quick footstep outside, and a ••-'■■■..■.'key was fitted into the door ■ a moment afterwards. There were double doors- into the street, with a small door in one ot '< " them. This small door had no bolts, so - that with a key one could enter at any - tU "Is that you, Rollit? That infernal lantern startled me." The manager came m, closing the door quietly behind him. >f What's the lantern for?" v, ! "My job doesn't make it pleasant wait- ' in a in the dark. . * '"Is it all right?" •; . "It's done 1" said the housekeeper. • " Let us get the business finished then; " - and' the manager led the way to the base- " : ment, Rollit following him with the lan- ' " There's the trunk packed and fastened." V r ( - Secure and weighted?" asked the manager. " "•• ; *■■ "Yes." •' > .'■' ■ .■' i „ " . " I'll lust look to see there's no mistake. T -You can't," said Rollit. "The keys were rotten-and got bent in turning the lock after I'd thrown the duplicate away. Oh, the locks are fastened right enough, and I wasn't, sorry they couldn't be undone again. The inside of that trunk lsnt a : ! pleasant sight, and there was just a chance ■ that somebody else might come along and '~ have a fancy to look into it." "How was" it done?" u ■ " Curse vou !" said Rollit in a fury. It a ...'- Jone. and'tbafs enough. Do you suppose ■■■•■. S want to go through it all again in fancy. :..' It's done with and-I want to forget it. ■ '* Put out the lantern, then, and open the • door." said the manager. " Your nerves are not as good as they ought to be. You ye 00 got the receipt for this, so well deliver it at once." , , T ,, " But I haven't got the money, and Id "* like it before I put out the light, said soiiit. '; ■■' :\: ' ■■-.".. -; "That's paying before delivery, and ?s ' nn "H a was arranged that when the trunk was packed and ready I should be paid. 'Mr work's done here, and I may have _o ' skin at a moment's notice before many -*-. hours are over. It would De awkward tor - me if I hadn't- been paid. We may have made a mistake somewhere, and so nnd ourselves in a hot corner before we know '~ ' • where we are. I want to be on the safe -side." '•'■■ ■ 7 '.'-"''H, , ",, ■' "There •is no danger," the manager answered; "but there is your money. .1 . \- never quarrel with a man for taking pre- ■ caution." , , . , , He handed Rollit a little packet of notes, J - which the housekeeper counted, Then l,e blew out the light and undid the email '...., door which opened on to the canal. • "It's heavy," said the manager, as he - raised one end of the trunk. ■ "With reason," Rollit answered, as he , took the other. They had only moved two ■ steps when there was a distant sound of . knocking. "What's that?" . „ , "Only my wife. I locked her in. • "Does she know?" , . . , " I sent her out and told her the girl -. , had run away." ■ „ "And she believed it.' "I've brought her up like that, was_ohe • answer. "I'll go first. Step lightly. Peo- '." . pie pass over the bridge yonder at all hours . of the night." .. , They carried out the trur.k carefully and *%Vet it down lengthwise beside the canal. ■ No one was crossing the bridge, and it was - a dark night. Kneeling down, they eased mO: the trunk over the edge of the narrow tow- • .• ing-path and let it drop silently into the ■ water. It was deftly and quickly done ' without a sound, and the dirty, slimy water closed over it and hid it, i The great leather trunk, stamped with the name "Captain H Myers," liad been put to a strange use indeed! CHAPTER XXI. .0/00" MJR. BICKERS IS MYSTERIOUS. Airs Rollit was still hammering at the • door above when Rollit followed the «0 manager up the steps from the basement. -.. "That wife of yours gets on my .- nerves," said the manager. _ ( " She sometimes gets on mine, was fe r; the answer. » " "You had better go to her, or she -'-I may open a window and begin to call out." . , • - " I'll find means to quiet her pre- - sently." There . was a grimness about ' ' ' the housekeeper which appeared to satisfy ;--' the manager. " You needn't worry about - her." • , '.'■' " "You must consider your own neck, . ' eh. Rollit? But we are quite safe." ' • " "How about Bunco?" : " He'll probably return to-morrow no •'. • wiser than he went. Now that this . - business is settled I shall cease to be the -:* manager as soon as possible, and in a day . or so you ought to find a much better • - paying' job. There no hurry; indeed ' •you must not hurry. If there should be any questions asked, your sudden dis- ..- appearance would look suspicious. IV "•" Awkward for both of us. r ;' J "A little, yes. .1 shall be here tomorrow. Good night." u- • ' .'■ Rollit went upstairs quickly, and his "wife ceased knocking when she heard him -' coming. " "You're a nice woman, you are. , Why don't you open the windows and , yell to the first person who passes over • ' 'the bridge vender?" . I "I'm'afraid! I'm afraid!" whispered % ■ the woman. It may be that she was , ' .afraid of her husband. He looked very -big and savage to-night, but he spoke to 1 .his wife without swearing at her, and was inclined to treat her gently. Full of , bis own schemes, he yet appeared to 3 realise that there was .very good cause - . 'or her agitation. He pushed her, not .unkindly, into a chair, and talked to her ■until her. lo« «»d oresently 'J?&JS** alto£eth eri ° I\ '"ntil-her. sobbing.Tew hx« **"! presently • i«wsed altogether °

" Two days, and then we can say what we like, Sarah," he said." "You leave me alone for two days and don't ask questions. Don't be surprised at anything I do, and when I tell you to do a thing do it without asking why. We're going to cover up our tracks and set out on a fresh road in about two days. Now go to bed. I'm going to have another pipe afore I turn in." Mrs. Rollit was obedient and went at once. This was hardly wonderful, because she was in the habit of obeying her husband but that she should get into bed and sleep as peacefully as if nothing had happened was remarkable. It was evident that upon occasion Rollit could use great powers of persuasion. The housekeeper lit his pipe, but did not sit down to enjoy it in idleness. He took off his coat and got his wife's workbox. He threaded a needle, and then undid the lining of his coat with a knife. In a piece of wash-leather he wrapped up the notes ho had received that night and deftly stitched the improvised bag inside the lining, which he carefully fastened down again. " There are times when it's wise to carry the bank about with you," he murmured, as he put on his coat and replaced the workbox. He next unlocked a drawer, and from a small box lie took his little hoard of gold and silver, tying it up in a small canvas bag, which he put in his pocket. " The furniture cost me nothing, so it remains for tho next man on my job. Sarah and I can travel light. A devilish business altogether, and I'm glad it's nearly over." Mrs. Rollit slept so soundly that she was not aroused when her husband came to bed; nor did she hear him get up at daybreak. He had told her very little last night, and nothing definite, but had said enough to calm her fears and to make her trust him. Rollit moved quietly. First he went to Evelyn 'Ash-worth's room. The flowers which Sirs. Rollit had dropped still lay scattered on the floor, and he stepped over them without disturbing them. He looked round the room. It was just as he had seen it last, a few things lying about to show that it had been recently occupied, but nothing to indicate that a struggle had taken place there. One of the drawers of a chest stood open, a. garment hanging over the edge, as if the drawer had been hastily searched and not replaced. Rollit shut it, and then picked up something from the floor at his feet. It had probably been dragged out of tho drawer and fallen unnoticed. " This may be useful," said the housekeeper, putting it into his pocket. Then ho threw up the window and, leaning- out, looked down into the canal, very much as his wife had done last night. The water looked very dirty and slimy in, the light of early morning. There was no chance of seeing into its depths, even from this elevation, no learning any of the secrets which it might hold. Captain H. Myers's leather trunk was safely hidden. Rollit nodded to himself with satisfaction, and closed the window. Then he went downstairs, down to the basement. The scene of his crime seemed to have a peculiar fascination for him, for it was half an hour before ho came up again, to find his wife dressed and wondering what had become of him. She was silent and a little nervous, and would have been glad if her husband had told her to do something. She was in the mood . to find inaction trying. But Rollit had no commands to give at prosent. . . ' " We must wait for Bunce," was all he said, and he waited anxiously for Him all day.. He was so intent upon the secret which he had hidden beneath the waters of the canal that he could , not conceive another secret which might concern him just as nearly. All the hands left at the usual time, but Bunce had not come, nor had the manager put in an appearance to-day. What could be the reason for Bunce's delay? Rollit began to grow nervous as the light grew dimmer in the silent buildings. His wife calling to him startled him,- and he went to her ouickly. He would delay no longer. He began to regret that he had waited so long, but he had expected so much to happen before this. There was reason enough why Amos Bunce . did not come. He lay in an outbuilding of the Crown and Anchor at Selbridge, his form, now stretched in more natural fashion, covered with a sheet, which would be removed presentlv to allow the coroner's jury to view the body. Onlv one verdict, was possiblemurder. He had been stabbed in the back suddenly, taken unawares there was no sign of a struggle, nothing to show that he had had time to raise a hand to defend himself. So the doctor said when he saw the bodv' »t the Priorv. He could not have been lying inside the small gate long •wh»n Dawson found him. When Purkis saw the station-master early ir> the morning, he had onlv inouired about Mr. Bannister, and. to do the constable credit, in so carnal a manner that the station-master had no suspicion whv the inquiry was made. He bad not. heard of the tragedy when he touhced his enn to Colonel Grainger, who went* to town by an "arlv train. The news of the murder did not become generally known- until late in the morning, and then several curious persons, who had nothing better to do, walked up the old road to the Priory and stared at the small gate. There was a good trade done at the inn, and many a solution propounded over a tankard of ale. By common consent it was maintained that the new mysterv had something to do with Miss Ashworth, and it was remembered that a good many people had believed Mr. Bannister responsible for her disappearance; so he was promptly held responsible for the murder at the Priory. At first the reasons for such a conclusion were extremely vague, but as the day wore on and it became known that he had left home in a hurry last night there seemed to be abundant evidence against him. Mr. Idling, who had once sold evidence, very valuable evidence he said, concerning Miss Ash worth,-had, a great deal to say about the new- mystery, and it appeared by sundry shakings of his head that he had more valuable information to dispose of when the time was ripe. . "No use hurrying to a conclusion, mates," he remarked, possibly thinking that the tankard of ale someone had supplied him with was payment for his talk " It's a mistake to hurry. Slow and sure is the right way. Let's hear what all the rest have to say first, and thenthen we'll see." '.- One of the tradesmen brought the news to the Cottage, and the housemaid told her mistress. Mrs. Rickson was troubled. She knew that Harry had gone out last night to meet this man a little before nine, knew that Colonel Grainger would probably go with them to the Priory to see Lawrence Bannister. Harry had not returned all nHit! He had not come to The Cottage this morning! This tragedy might explain his absence, but where could he be'' What was there for him to do? He might be with Colonel Grainger, but she presently heard from her coachman that the colonel had driven to the station early in the mornincr; the man had seen him pass, and Mr. Rickson was not with him. Lunch time came, and still there was no sign of Harry. Mrs. Rickson became terribly anxious and nervous. Was it possible that there had been a double tragedy, that one body had been found and not the other—yet? She had been told that Colonel Grainger was at the Priory last night, that he and Harry had found the body; but this might be a. mistake. With repetition tales become distorted. Perhaps Harry had not told her the truth about this man—the whole truth. He was still in difficulties; she was sure of that. The man's coming had startled him, although he had concealed' the fact so well at the time that her suspicions were lulled. Afterwards, when speaking of Rose Oliver, he had not been natural. Whv had he asked her to marry him? The reason he gave was absurd- In some way he was deceiving her yesterday, and to-day she was afraid to ask too many questions. What could she do for the best? In the midst of her perplexity , Purkis came up the drive, slowly and deliber-

ately as befitted the occasion. Mrs. Rickson went to the door to meet him. "Is Mr. Rickson at home, ma'am?" "No; he has not' come home yet." The look of surprise on tho constable's face was not reassuring. "Perhaps he is still at the Priory," she said. " 1 think not. I don't see why he should be there. When I last saw him he was starting to come home." Evidently something happened to make him change his mind," said Mrs. Rickson. " What do you want to see him about?" " Well, ma'am, there'll be an inquest, you see, and we like to get these things over as soon as possible. I wanted a word or two with him about it." "Will you come a little later? He is certain to be in presently." '.'.! must," Purkis answered. "We want another officer in Selbridge, ma'am. An affair of this sort makes too much pressure for one, and time becomes that valuable you'd hardly believe it." Its value was not to be measured by the deliberate way Purkis went clown the drive. Some of Tilling's wise remarks had been repealed to him, and he had treated them scornfully. If he had. looked upon Colonel Grainger and Mr. Rickson as amateurs in matters of this kind, as he certainly did, it was unlikely that anything Tilling might say would carry weight with him. And yet Purkis began to wonder. Wisdom sometimes came from tho mouths of babes and sucklings, ho reflected ; then why not from the mouth of Tilling? He would go and see if Mr. Kickson was at The Priory; and lie went along the footpath at a pace far more rapid than was usual with him. A maidservant opened the door, and, ever on the alert, Mr. Purkis became subtle. Astounding results sometimes came from change and unexpected questions. "Has Mr. Bannister come back?" "No." . . "Is Mr. Rickson here?" "No." " Hasn't ho been hero?" "I haven't seen him," answered the girl. "Well, I'll just come in and have a word with Mr. Bickers." " You can't." "Can't!" " No, we don't know what to make of it- .Mr. Bickers never got into his bod last night. We don't know where he is. He's gone!" CHAPTER XXII. THE THIRD CARNATION. Purkis had always considered Bickers a simple kind of man, rather a fool than otherwise, but as he walked away from the Priory he began to change his mind concerning men and matters generally. Apparently Bickers was in league with his master. " There's so many in this business that it's quite impossible for ono officer to look after the lot of 'em," he reflected; and then he went again to interview the stationmaster, who had heard all about the tragedy by this time, and was almost as eager for information as the constable was. Yes, Colonel Grainger had gone up to town, but not by the first train, as Purkis supposed; and the station-master had seen nothing of the butler from the Priory. "Have you seen Mr. Rickson?" Purkis asked. "No." And further inquirv showed that no one else at the station had seen him. > Long before Bickers had retired to his room that night he had made up his mind that there could be no rest for him. Tho unexpected coming of Colonel Grainger and Mr. Rickson, and the lattor's positive statement concerning Mr. Bannister's responsibility for Miss Ashworth's disappearance, might have failed to impress Bickers; but the awful death of the very man who had brought the evidence against his master was a different matter. The small gate was used by no one except Mr. Bannister, and by that gate the murder had been committed. * ; .It was evident that the constable felt convinced who the murderer was, and that it would bo fatal for him to come back with the idea that there was no real "evidence against him. If Bickers would not admit to himself that his master was the guilty man, he was nevertheless very certain that he must not be allowed to return to the Priory. In some way he must be prevented from doing so, and Bickers only knew one way which held out any chance of success. That way lie determined to take. The doctor came and went, the body was removed to a coach-house, from whence it would. bo taken to the inn early in tho morning. Mr. Rickson had gone, but Purkis was somewhere about, keeping watoh, and Bickers fully realised that there was danger and difficulty in his task.' The • darkness must help him, and therefore he must not wait too long before lie acted, must not wait for tho dawn. He put out his light, and sat in the dark for a long time, with ears keen to catch every sound. Then at last he quietly opened his door, stole silently down the "stairs, and out into the grounds by a back entrance, which he had purposely left unbolted. He did not make for the road, but for the fields, and lie did not approach Selbridge. He must get to town by the earliest possible train, but not from Selbridge station. If he were seen there someone might guess his intention, and stop him. He must not run the risk of being stopped. So Bickers arrived in London before Colonel Grainger, and went straight to his master's club in St. James's Square. " I don't think Mr. Bannister came here last night," said the porter, "but I will ask." Inquiry proved that no one had seen him, and that he was certainly not in the house. " I'll come in again presently," said Bickers, trying to show, no sign of disappointment or anxiety. "He is certain to be here this morning." The failure to find his master troubled Bickers. Had Mr. Bannister taken advan : tage of the start he ha'd got and disappeared? The butler had thought of this possibility while he had waited in his room, and had not considered it probable then it was much more likely that the master would come back. Now, he realised how foolish it would have been for Mr. Bannister to waste time at. the club, or even to go near the place, since they would most certainly look for him there before many hours were over. This idea gave tho butler a new fear. His own presence near the club might betray his master, and he' hastened out of the square into Jermyn-street, and loitered there waiting for Mr. Bannister. With every passing moment his master's peril increased, unless he had wisely used his long start to get away altogether. To go to the club now would be as dangerous as going back to the Priory. So Bickers waited; but, had he known that lie was being watched as closely as he was watching, he might possibly have considered that the best way of helping his master would have been to lose himself as quickly as possible. That morning Bannister had called at an office in Holborn; indeed, the owner of the office, a Mr. Cooper, had found him waiting. The interview had been a lengthy one, a satisfactory one, too, yet there must be delay and Bannister was impatient of delay. "We must act secretly," Cooper said. " They must be taken unawares or we may ruin everything. It is impossible to do anything umtil to-night." " You feel sure you have made no mistake ?" said Bannister. "I feel quite sure. Come for me here at ten o'clock." So it was to be a waiting day for Bannister, even as it was for Rollit. Nothing could be done until to-night, and he went slowly westwards. He must kill time at the club as best he could. He was going thoughtfully along Jerymn-street when Bickers saw him and hastened towards him. "Good heavens! Bickers, what are you doing here ?" "I must speak to you at once, sir; it's most important." " We'll go on to tho club, then." "Anywhere but there, sir! The club's dangerous." Dangerous, Bickers! What do you mean ?" (To be continued on Saturday next).'