THE GIRL'S HEAD.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLVII, Issue 14465, 3 September 1910, Page 3 (Supplement)

THE GIRL'S HEAD.

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL aeiusgment.

BY EDGAR JEPSON, . iW of "The Admirable Tinker.;' "The Passion for Romance." ' Lady Nosss, peeress," " The Dictator's Daughter." Etc , Etc. AFTER XIV— (Continued.) As I leaned against tho wall I Jieard a sieh, and *' If> man on the other side of he wall whistled two or three bars of a . nlainti've melody. hen I heard a creak. | He then pressed the button of the clectiii bell Again. I waited yet another two or three minutes on the chance of hearing some j sound that told ot the presence of confed- i urates, hut heard nothing of the kind. j Then I said quietly. "Who's there: * "Oh, I've awakened you at last, have! T Mefsiter? You sleep deeper than you > I thought- that 1 should exhaust j the battely before I awakened you," t>aid ; a voice in French. i It was a pleasant voice ; I tound its tone ; reassuring. j " Who are you ?" I said. ! " What? Are you still too sleepy to recognise my voice : It's Smirnoff. And if you do not still recognise it, know that ' the rivers are in flood." ; That was plainly a password. It was not Tcherkask at any rate. I unbolted the door, unlocked it, threw it open, anil stepped to one side with my • pitoi ready to pump lead into a rush, it one came. , , ; There was no rush; a sum. nark- ■ Veardod, spectacled man. the most harm- ; less-looking figure in the world, stepped : quietly into the garden and snapped the j door to behind him. . j Then, smiling, lie turned to me and said i in an ironical tone. " Cautions Mossit"— | iumped back to the door, whipped out a , pistol, cried, "Mon Dku! Who are j *°>< I am Sir John Messiter," I said j quietly. _ , | ' " But no!" cried my visitor. ; 15 Ah, I see what it is ? you expected to j find my cousin here. < I am sorry to tell] you that lie is dead." ! "Messiter dead Messiter dead ?" he i said in a tone of consternation; and lie leaned back against the door as it he were j a little dazed by the news. | " He has been dead more than two j months," I said. " But come into the j house. I stand in my dead cousin's place; j and anything that I can do for you I j will. 1 take it that you l ave not come j at this hour ringing that t?cret bell on j unimportant business. Perhaps I can do what you want." He hesitated a moment, looking at me earnestly, and frowning, then he said, " Yes, we must talk. I must hear about Your cousin's death." And he slipped the pistol back into his pocket. I led the way across the garden; and we came into the library. I lighted the candles and shut the window. Then I took a good look at my visitor. He was naturally pale, I thought; but it seemed to me" that that natural pallor was deepened ' by weariness and I said, " You 'must be hungry." "Yes: I am hungrya biscuit. I have walked from Folkestone." "If von will excuse me for &. few minutes' I will get you some food." "Thank you," he said; and sat down in an easy chair, frowning and pondering. I left him staring sombrely _ before him, and went through the house into the left wins;, where are the kitchens, larders, and ; pantries. After a few minutes' hunting, I came back with a tray loaded witn a pie, a ' sweet cheese, butter, and bread, knives, forks, and spoons. _ a I found Smirnoff sitting as I had leit him. still frowning. " Now, if you will eat some supper, we can talk when vou feel a little fitter."' •' Thank you," he said, and rising stifflv. he came to the table, and fell to with a good appetite. I opened a small bottle ot champagne lot him; and as he ate his supper I studied him. He was a frail-looking creature, plainly a townsman, and I fancied that he must spend a good deal of his time over books; he had the student air. Bat he had a pleasant, frank face; and I liked hi.") look. Presently I said idly, " Why did you "walk from Folkestone?" j " I've come to the end of my money, he said, with a cheerful smile. It was on the tip of my tongue to say that he must allow me to be his banker; but I checked myself, reflecting that there was no haste to make the offer: it would come better later. Under the influence of the food and wine his face lost something of its pallor; he rose from, the table and came back to the easy chair. I gave him a cigar; he lighted and said, " So your cousin, John Messiter, is dead? You are sure of it?" '•Well, I was in the West Indies myself at the time; but I have his lawyer's word for it, and the extremely important fact that I have succeeded to the baronetcy and inherited his property." " More than two months ago. Shall we say the beginning of April ? It is strange. • How did he die ?" " He died of pneumonia. So Hovlake, his lawyer, told me." " There was nothing strange about his death then ?" ' . " How strange ?" No suspicion of foul play ?" " No. Hovlake would have told me if ' there had been." "Yes; of course," he said, and once More fell back into his pondering. I did not disturb it, and presently he eaid, " Is your neighbour, Baron Tcherkask. at the bungalow ?" "No; he hasn't been at the bungalow for four months." And he began to ponder again. I did not interrupt him; I wanted to see how much he would tell me of his errand without any prompting. _ At last, he rose, rather stiffly, with a pigh, and said. "Well, I must be going. I apologise for having disturbed you at such an hour; and a thousand thanks for your hospitality." But your business with my cousin? As I said, I st'jnd in his place; and I shall be charmed to do anything I can for - you." ♦ He smiled at me pleasantly, and said, '•" Many thanks. But it was ptirelv a personal matter. He is dead; and" my busiries"! ends." " Ah,' you came to warn him. I thought so," T said quietly. " Warn him ? What should I warn him against?" he said quickly, frowning. " Some attempt, of the Third Section." " The Third Section ? The Russian police ?" he said : and the frown deepened. " Yes. I know something of the part my cousin played in the Russian revolution. Hovlake told me. Also I know that the Russian police discovered that part." "No; my business with your cousin was purely a personal matter. He was . my friend. I came to see him." He spoke with an air of finality, closing the subject. "Well, since you do not care to speak ■but one. does not come to visit a friend so late without a strong reason; and I had my reasons, too, for asking. But you ; must really let me put you up for the night. I am sure that you must be very tired after your walkfifteen miles. Indeed, yon look tired. Besides, if you came to visit my cousin, you must have expected to sleep here; and there is really no reason why you shouldn't." He hesitated a moment; then he smiled and said, " My faith, yes; I am tired. I am no walker; and for the last three miles I was wondering if my feet would fall off. I will accept vour kind offer, and grate- . fully," His acceptance rendered it needless to show him reason why he should talk to me that night. The morrow, when his mind Was refreshed by the rest, would be better. So 1 postponed showing him the photograph of the head. Good," I said. Come along and I - Will find you a bedroom We will talk to- - morrow. . There are some things about my cousin I want to know; and I think '' th 1 ° WCm * k av .® a right to

*' You liavo the true English pertinacity, monsieur. Your cousin was like that. Poor Messiter!" he said with a smile that ended in a sigh. We went, upstairs: and I put him in tho bedroom opposite mine, a room looking out over the garden and the sea. I saw that he had everything lis wanted; and as I bade him good night I said mischievously, "Who knows? To-morrow von may even tell mo about tho great treachery." There was a sudden flash in his eyes: T saw his hands clench : his mouth opened as if he were going to speak, and shut with a click. He gave himself a little shake and said, quietly, " To-morrow we will talk, but yes. But to-night you speak in riddles, Sir John." CHAPTER XV. THE TUT UP SHOT. T was some little time falling asleep. The coming of Smirnoff set me speculating about, what. I was going to learn from him, what missing factors in the problem ho would give me. Put. at hist. I fell asleep: and I had slept for an hour or so when 1 was awakened by a sharp crash. 1 sprang out of bed, caught up my pistol, and stumbled to the door, awakening thoroughly as I went. I unlocked it. and opened it quietly, about six inches, and stood listening. I could hear nothing but some movements in Smirnoff's room. Then his door opened, and ho stood on the threshold, a lighted candle in one hand, a pistol in the other. His eyes were sparkling with anger and excitement. and I saw that the hand which held the candle was shaking. I saw the light, gleam on his teeth; they were bared as if lie were ready to light. " What, is it- ? Where was it V" I said in a whisper, for he was looking up and down tho corridor without seeing me. "Oh. you're here, Sir John. I thought you must be outside," he said, in a shaky voice. " Outside ? What, should I be doing outside!'" 1 said, opening my door wide and coming out into the corridor. " Breaking my bedroom window with a bullet." lie said, savagely. " What do you mean V" ''Why. 1 mean that I've been fired at while I was sleeping." "The devil you have ! It's that infernal Cossack again ! Let's have a look." I went into his bedroom, and he followed me. the light of the candle dancing oddly, as his hand quivered. At the corner of the room he held the candle high ; and I saw that, the top corner pane of the window was shattered, and that a spare foot at least of plaster had been knocked out of tho ceiling. I stepped to the window and looked clown the coast along the necessary line of the shot. A quarter of a mile away the sands were bare. I understood, and crying, "Quick! Come on !" I ran back to my bedroom. He followed me; and I said": "Watch the bungalow." We peered out of the open window. Tho moon was setting, and gave us but a dim light. But in less than two minutes I could have sworn that I saw a swiftly-mov-ing shadow between the bungalow and tho sea. " Look I said. " Do you see anything— thereon the right ?" " I see something moving, I think," he said. " I'm sure I do," I said, and my eyes got a better grip, as it were, on the shadow and for a few seconds 1 saw it as a figure of a man slinking along. Then it was lost in the shadow of the bungalow. "He's got home,"' I said, turning from the window. "That's tho third shot the beggar's had at me V" " At you ? At you ? But why does he shoot at you ? Oh. yes, we must "talk. We must -talk now. 1 cannot wait till to-mor-row. I could not sleep. My nerves are all on edge. Wo must talk now." I was more than ready. "All right," I said quietly. "Put we can't talk "here. If we lighted candles hero we might be interrupted by another shot—from the bungalow this time. I'll put on some clothes and we'll go down to the library." He went, to his room to put on the rest of his clothes, and I put on a, suit of flannels. Then we went down to tho library. I put a match to the fire, for the early morning air was chill. Then 1 mixed two brandies and sodas, for I felt that his nerves at any rate needed a sedative. He lighted a cigar and I a pipe. Then I went to the safe in the study and brought back the photograph of the girl's head. I took up my position on the hearthrug, my favourite position for the discussion of important business, and said, "Now, I tlnnk, Monsieur Smirnoff, that that bullet which so rudely disturbed our slumbers is something of a proof that. 1 have a right to know those facts about my- cousin of which I spoke. But- here are'further credentials." And I,gave him the photographs. Ho looked at the first, sprang to his feet and cried: " Baroness Olga I Is ehe dead, too ?" 1 " Yes, poor girl, she is deadmurdered. It was her head, sent to me by mistake— for her murderers do not oven yet know that my cousin is —which brought mo into this affair."' "It would bring anyone into it," he said, throwing himself into a chair again. " But oh. how Russian this picture is! Tell me about it, how the head came, where it came from, who sent it, what have your English police done?" I told him of the coming of tho head and of its immediate loss, and of the failure of the police to recover it. Now and again ho interrupted me with a quick question about some point. I told him of my resolve to got to the bottom of the matter myself and punish the murderers of the girl, of Hoy lake's hampering reticences, and his efforts to dissuade me from coming to Pyechurch. Smirnoff again questioned me "at length about Hovlake and his relations with my cousin. His chief interest was plainly in my cousin. I told him all I knew of those relations, and went on to tell him of my coming to 1-yechurch to try to discover the secret that Hovlake was keeping from me. Ho agreed with me that the count and counters were but subordinates, charged with tho simple duty of keeping a watch on my movements, and ignorant of the purpose of that watch. I went on to tho Cossack's first shot, my meeting with Sonia, and to the fright she gave tho Cossack. lie agreed with me again that the Cossack's- superstitious terror stamped him as the murderer, or an accomplice of the murder of Olga Kolomna. I took up my tale again and told him of the attack on Pardoe, the disappearance of tho Cossack, and my belief, which had been so signally confirmed that very night by tho shot fired into his bedroom, that he had taken refuge in the bungalow, and was lying hidden there; last of all I gave him Tcherkask's letter to read. He read it slowly and carefully ; then he said: "There are one or two points I notice. Firstly, you hav6 not discovered the secret of the lawyer, Hovlake ; why he did not wish you to come to Pyechurch, why he has been so careful to send away from* the Manor House everyone who knew your cousin." "No; I have not been able to throw any light on that matter. Of course I have had other things to think of." : "I think that that is of the first importi ance still," he said, thoughtfully. "But. I I do not see where the light was to come ! from. Then again, it is odd that the Cossack for whom it is so important to lie hid. should have dared to come out of his hiding-place to fire that shot to-night." " That does not surprise me much," I said. "He has made up his mind that I, or rather that my cousin, is not seeking the help of the police. The plotters know that I have not informed the police of the first shot the Cossack fired at me, at any rate not the local police. They do not know that Pardoe is a detective ; they think that he is a casual travelling American, who, wandering in tho Marsh, saw the Cossack fire at me, and tried to catch him. At tho same time it was cool cheek the Cossack's coming out to give me another fright by firing into the window of the room in which the count told him I slept." "Yes ; but of course all his shots were of an insolence. ' Ho paused, considering, for two or three minutes ; then he said : " Well, your cousins death had already rendered the errand on which I came fruitless ; and if I had found him alive and these things happening, my errand would again have been fruitless. W hat do you wish to learn from me I It seems to me that you know all the factors in the problem, as you rightly call it —as many of them at least, as I do. You are quite right in supposing that your cousin was betrayed to the Third Section, -You are right in supposing that the

Third Section, ignorant of his death, is trying to torture him with fear. You are right again, I think, in supposing that they are on the eve of an attempt to assassinate him ; yes, you have all tho facts of the problem. What, more can I tell you?" "1 want to know what were the relations between my cousin and Baroness Olga Kolomna." " They were fellow-workers in the movement. that is all—at least, as far as 1 know." " That does not see-in to me enough. Why did they send her head to him "There is that. But. after all any head would be enough to start the campaign of terror, to set fear and suspense corroding his soul." " Yes, but why did they send him her head V" "Oh, your English pertinacity!" said Smirnoff, with a faint smile. "Perhaps it was the only head they had to hand. Besides. a. girl's head, a beautiful girl's head, would bo far more of a shock than a man's. Also they had been fellow-workers ; Messiter knew her well." " That may bo so; but I cannot help thinking that there is more in if than that,' I said in a discontented tone. "But tho tiling which I want to know even more is what, part does Baron Tcherkask play in the affair. At the end of every blind alley stands the figure of Baron Tcherkask." _ Smirnoff's face took on a sudden expression of extreme wariness : ".Icherkask ?" lie said. "I do not understand." " I find this French spy in his bungalow ? the Cossack is in his bungalow." " His letter makes that- quite clear," said Smirnoff, with a touch of impatience. "The 1 bird Section has deceived one of our Engglish agents, and settled its spy in Tcherkask s own house. It is not. the first time that they have done that." "So Baron Tcherkask says, lint then lie also says, in the same letter, that ho has been in Finland—word from him has always come from him in London. He wa-s coining away, smiling, from Pardoe's smashed cab, carrying a kit-bag, and in that- kit-bag was the lost, head." Smirnoff seemed to shrink. He gripped the arms of his chair; ho blinked and blinked, as if ho had had a blow on the head. Then he sprang up and cried. " What is this? But. what is this? Tcherkask was in Finland—lie was in Finland. And how could vou know him? It is impossible !" How could I mistake him? I knew him as soon as ever I set eyes on his portraits in the bungalow. It was Baron Tcherkask—l'd stake my life on it." Smirnoff sank heavily back into his chair, gasping. "Tcherkask?" he muttered. "Tcherkask? Wo never thought of Tcherkask. But if he left Finland—word from him has always come from Finland. Why should he hide from us that, lie was in London? Oh, it. is incredible! You } must be wrong. Sir John." " No —I'm not wrong," I said quietly, | " Baron Tcherkask carried away the head from the smashed cab. I am convinced that he arranged the smashing of it. I am convinced that lie has been helping the Third Section in the process of trying to torture my cousin with fear. lam convinced that lie is arranging his assassination. that he will take part in it." Smirnoff stared at me, as if In were trying to stare through me. Then suddenly he sprang up again, his face convulsed with rage, and cried, " Tcherkask ! Tcherkask was the traitor ! I said it was not Messiter. Again and again I said it. Tcherkask was the —Tcherkask !" I said nothing. • I let the new idea, sink in. It was two or three minutes before he recovered his calm; and I watched his working face. At last h*> sat down again, and said huskily, "ou ask me to tell you things: and tiien you tell mo tho chief thing of alltho thing that has puzzled us nearly to madness —the thing about which we were making the biggest mistake. Mon Dieu. But I am grateful to you." " I am glad to have been of use," I said. "But the next day or two will settle the matter and prove _ me right or wrong. The time has come for the Third Section to make that attempt on my cousin: and I tell you that Baron 'Icher- ' kask will be there." "Then, if 1 may. I will trespass on your hospitality for that two or three days. I should like to be there, too," he said in a quiet voice, with a somewhat sinister ring to it. *- 1 shall be charmed to have you," I said. " I have been wondering whether I had not better get. a helper and here you have been sent by Providence. So 'you thought that mv cousin had betrayed you? It seems rather non.'ienfco. What on earth should Re betray you for?" "We could not conceive. We could find, or imagine, no motive. But the English have a reputation for perfidy; and then, his sudden silence. Either he. had been captured, or he was hero and a traitor. I came to .see. And then Tcherhask— Tcherkask is chief of the Central Council. He has been on it longer than any of us." "That is very likely, if it has been his practice to betray his colleagues,' I suggested. " There has been treacheryinexplicable treachery before. But. after all, Tcherkask has done good work—excellent work. A dozen coups arranged by Tcherkask have come off without a hitch," he said half to himself. "He would have to do something to keep his position." "Yen; that, again, is true. And now one looks at it like that they were not men of great importance lie removed —not men like your cousin removed, who—" He chocked himself, and then went on : " But. again, what was Tcherkask's motive —always so sincere—so enthusiasticso amiable "A blind —a mask." "It must be — mask that never slips." And he buried himself in thought again. " Well, I am convinced—quite convinced," he raid, rising. " The second shock seems to have repaired the first, i can sleep." I put out tho lamp and he went upstairs. At the door of his room he held out his hand, and, as I shook it, he said, "Again I thank you. You asked me what was my errand to your cousin—l came to shoot him. Now I shall shoot Baron Tcherkask." Pardon me," I said. " That is my job." (Tp be continued on Saturday next.)