THE OTHER MAN.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLIX, Issue 15002, 25 May 1912, Page 3 (Supplement)

THE OTHER MAN.

SVVUOED BY SPECIAL ARBAKOEMBOT.

x BY TOM GALLON, lnthfl . of " Tatterler," " A Roffuo In Love." »'%, Second Bandy Chater." "The Mystery of John Peppercorn.' etc.

COPriUGHT.

.COiralGHT.,

CHAPTER XX.

Dies could only surmise that the old nan tad misunderstood the conditions of the arrangement, and had gone off on his own' account to Burntfield Marsh. After ••-1 interminable wait ho caught another train down to Sheoraess, and landed there very late in the evening, with no earthly prospect °* knowing what to do when presently ho should reach Burntfield Marsh. Meanwhile, it is our duty to return to that upper room at the Three Sailors— there to find Flamank and Ella Corbett. The girl bad realised in a moment that sho wa* trapped. Sin; did not yet understand 'ally why Flamank had carried out go daru'2 a scheme, nor why the girl Bhoda Nunn° had lent herself to it. She somewhat disconcerted Flamank by sitting down at his bidding, and looking calmly at him. Not that there was any calmness in her; but there was a fight to bo made, and'she had yet to choose her weapons. "You mean, 1 suppose," sho said, in answer to that declaration of hM concernin*- her father, " that my father has not yet arrived. When do you expect him ? " " You show a bravo front, my dear— v'tioh is somehow what I expected of yen." bo retorted. '* Your father is not ; famine; here at all; ha does not even know where" you are. You and I have a littlo matter to settle between ourselves before we start out into the together. A little explanation is necessary in the first place. I shall have to take you back a Utile to a certain night in Groom Square the night when Bruo died. Are you following me " Sho was following him so well that sho did not even take her eyes from his as ha asked the question ; she merely nodded slowly. Once again she seemed to see that "dull, sombre house in the comer of the square; once again she seemed to live through days and nights of terror, when she instinctively knew what was happening in the house, and what her father and this man were planning. Once again, too, .she hurried through the house with that cry of " Father!" on her lips. Flamank had turned the key in the door. He lounged forward now, with an insolent slouch of his shoulders, until he was quite close to her. There he stopped, because there was that in her face that forbade his coming any nearer.

" You blundered into a room that night where a struggle had been going on; yon saw the sailor Bree lying there. Save for him, the room was empty. The. work had been done. It was only the fact of that fool Haydon knocking at the door that caused me to Blip away." Thus Flamank, in a voice that shook a little, even now, at the recollection of that murderous business.

But the girl had risen suddenly to her feet, and was staring at him with parted lips. "You?" she cried.

" Yes, of course; who did you imagine it was! " he asked. • x To his utter astonishment she suddenly burst into low, quiet' -laughter. ".And I have thought all the time that it whs my father. On,! thank. Heaven—thank Heaven !"

The laughter had given place to tears, and for a moment she covered her face with her hands, and sobbed hysterically. The man was about to speak, when she suddenly faced him with a new strength and a new resolution.

" Do you think I'm afraid of you now T" she asked. "Do yon think I fear anything you can do ? I have carried this terrible thing < about with me for weeks past—this belief that my father had killed the man Bree; the further belief that he killed that other man in Limehonse. And

now I know that it was —yon only." . w "I'm-ghd you've made up your mind to "'"that," he answered, maliciously. " It's quite true that the old dealer in Limehouse met. with the same fate at my hands as Bree had done. They say that a woman admires a strong man; I shall teach you to love me for that, my dear. Only it happens that the man they're looking for is your father, after all; because he blundered into the matter just before I did. , Who knows ? It may happen that when you and I are far away they may get hold of Mr. Corbett yet—the evidence is very , strong against him. We shall be out of the wood by that time, and it doesn't matter to us at all." What do you imagine you're going to do?" she asked him, steadily. "I want company on my journey ■• I've always had a fancy for you, my dear, since first we met. In other words, I love yon, and I'm going to take you abroad on a little informal excursion. You needn't be afraid; we shall bo quite rich. You see I have the diamond."

"It was for that, then, that you killed that old man?" she breathed. "But ♦here must be two, Mr. Flamank, to a bargain ouch as you propose— Ido not go with you. Unlock that door, or I'll . scream the place down and tell my story." "I wouldn't do that if I were you," answered the man. " his is a rough place, and I don't suppose there's a woman in it «ave yourself; only a lot of rough men to -whom I can tell my story concerning you, if I choose. And I should not make that story a pretty one." ''What harm have I ever done to you that you should want to wrong me in this fashion ?" pleaded the girl, with a sudden change of attitude. "You have brought rain upon m all; you havo placed my A father's life in danger. Now you have the diamond, and the way is clear for you to f" go to another country with it— to go alone. You can't compel me to travel with you, and I shall endanger your safety the first chance I get by declaring the truth and demanding protection."

" You don't seem to realise how you have compromised yourself by travelling down specially to meet me," sneered the Man. That sort of thing has to be accounted for; and there is no chance for you to get back to London to-night. I have wade all arrangements, and a boat will be in waiting in an hour or so. We shall drop out quiotly into the river and meet the Antwerp boat. Everything is arranged. 1 don't want to bo rough with you, and I don't want to hurt you; but recollect that I am strong enough to carry you out of this place In my arms, if necessary. Of courtse, I should be careful to gag you, so that there was no possibility of your making yourself heard. You see, m quite determined about the matter." Flamank turned his head sharply at that moment; a hand had dropped upon the handle of the door, and someone had tried to enter He stood intently listening, but no second attempt was made; and Ella stood watching the door, wondering whether she should cry out, or whether this might be someone else in league with .Elamank. The opportunity was gone, and Flamank turned again to her with a sigh of relief. " Someone has mistaken the room," he wi'l. " Come now, my dear, be more sensible; look at the thing in a proper light. I'll swear I mean to be good to you. I swear I mean" He was advancing towards Ella; he stopped suddenly, staring past her towards the long, old-fashioned window of the room. For one fleeting second a man had looked in there—just the mere glimpse of a face, before it was gone again in the darkness. But it was a face that Flamank or thought he recognised— hideous face, with a great livid scar down one chei'k. The thing was so sudden that a moment later he told himself that it was imagination; yet it had shaken him. He was to bo shaken still moro tho next

foment; for once again the door handle Was rattled, and this time in no uncertain "tenner. A voice cried out demanding admittance. 'N)pen this door!" r At the sound of that voice Ella ran past *Jwaank, heedless of everything, and naturally, as it seomed then, he took the Shinto his arms. Flamank, for his part, was at a loss to Know what to do. The momentary glimpse fJ " that face outside the window had unnerved him; this sudden coming of the lover so dramatically had unnerved him more still. The fact that he had the ..juaajoiid about him seemed to urge him to

get away, and to give up a pursuit that was useless. Dick, for his part, had evidently made up his mind not to let the matter pass lightly; he had set his back to the door.

"Thank heaven you've come, Dick;" said the girl, clinging to him. "That's all right," sail Dick, easily. Its Mr. Flamauk I want to talk to; there's a little matter to settle between us, I think, and it can't bo settled in the presence of a lady. If you'll step downstairs for a minute" " Wo don't want any violence," said Flamank, sulkily. "And, after all, the lady camo here willingly enough." " To meet her father," broke in Dick, turned the key in the lock—Dick Haydon sprang into, the room. And it has to bo recorded trjat for the first time, and quite hotly.

Flamank determined, under all the circumstances, to slip out of the way; ho was in no mood for battle just then." He was edging round the wall with that object in view, when, by an unlucky chance, he camo again to that window reaching almost to the floor ; aud this time there could be no mistake about the fact that a man stood outside in the darkness, on what was apparently a littlo balcony running along the back of the house, and looked in. It was Eli Oldershaw, Flamank backed away from the window, and oil the spur of the moment, in sheer panic, whipped out that revolver he carried, and presented it promptly at the lovers. "Let me pass, or I'll do one or boEli of you a mischief," ho said, glancing back at the window. "Lot me pass." Dick was glad enough to lot him go, especially under these circumstances; ho saw that any idea of battle would bo preposterous. Flamank made a somewhat hurried exit, pocketing his revolver when he got to the stairs, and even there he waited, trembling, wondering if the man with the scarred face had seen him go, and might run round to intercept him. But Eli Oldershaw was not troubling about Flamank at all. By an ingenious process of putting two and two together he had come to the conclusion that Flamank did not possess the diamond. That theory he had worked out on his journey, and he had convinced himself that he was perfectly right. He worked it out thus : That referenca in the restaurant to the murder of tho old man Quinn had begun the matter. Oldershaw saw at once, or thought ho saw, that Corbett had had some dispute with the old dealer, and had killed him; in which case, the diamond being the subject of tho dispute, Corbett would naturally have retained it in his possession. That father and daughter meant to leave England Eli Oldershaw firmly believed; and tho fact that the daughter had arrived first only confirmed him in the suspicion that they had the diamond, and were endeavouring to throw pursuit off the scent. Flamank s presence at the inn was easily accounted for, according to Oldershaw s theory, by the fact that he was making another desperate attempt to get hold of the diamond, and j that he knew that the girl possessed it. ! Having worked out tins comfortable theory on his journey, Oldershaw now received confirmation of it, as ho thought, I from every point of view. Any possibility of love-making on the part of Fla--1 mank never entered his head ; in that little scene going on before his eyes in the room, while he looked through the window, he saw only a man striving hard to persuade the girl to give the diamond up to him. Her dramatic rescuo by young Haydon came as a surprise, but, on the ether hand, did nothing to upset Oldershaw's theory. Therefore he let Flamank go without * second thought, save, perhaps, one of gratitude that the man should so easily have been frightened away; and Flamank ! had no reason at all for waiting trembling on tho stairs before finally getting out of the house. But Flamank's panic was very j genuine, and he knew that his life would scarcely bo worth a moment's purchase, if Oldershaw was certain that ho had tho J diamond. '< Satisfied in his own mind that the game ! was now- in his own hands, Oldershaw ! kept watch upon that window. It troubled him that he could not hear what was going on in the room, because the window was tightly closed. He began to wonder whether it would not bo possible for him to get it open without being observed. For the lovers, aa we must now call them, with tho going of Flamauk had plenty to talk about, and were, of course, quite unconscious of the watcher on the balcony. Dick, of course, had to explain just how he had discovered Rhoda'fi treachery ; while Ella, for her part, had to complete the story by telling of the plot, so far as she knew it to have existed, between Rhoda and Flamank. Dick did not think it necessary to alarm her by saying too much about her father; he simply suggested that in all probability Monkton Corbett had felt that Dick could carry the business through without him. It was Ella's anxiety for her father, and her desire that ho might know as soon as pos aible/that she was safe and well, that, precipitated the tragic happenings of tho i next few days. Ella had been urging that Dick should do something to let her father know, and at last had suggested that it might be possible to get a telegram sent, or a mes sage of some sort, that should reach him ; late though it was. And with the optim i ism of a man anxious to pleasa his be : loved, he made that rash promise in very simple words; and ho made it just as Eh Oldershaw, outside on tho balcony, had contrived to get tho window open just a littlo way. 'Yes, I will get it to London for yon by some means." Oldershaw dropped back out of sight. and nodded grimly to himself. For, of course, the words convoyed but one impression to his mind—that tho girl was entrusting the diamond to her lover, and that those words erred, not to any telegram or message, but to the stone. Clearly, Mr. Richard Haydon was the man ho wanted. Dick urged the girl to remain where she was for the present; it was quite unlikely that Flamank would return. He would go out, and would send the message ; if it took a long time she must not be frightened, because it might happen that he would have to get to Sheerness. And that was exactly what happened. In a little out-of-the-way place like Burntfield Marsh there was no prospect of sending off a telegram ; there was nothing for it but for him to get to Sheerness. He ■ tartod off to walk across the marshes, having failed even to get a vehicle to take him. He carried a light heart now, because ha knew that Ella loved him, and ho knew that he had succeeded in saving her. Dark though the night was, it might have been broad noonday for tho song that sung in his heart. And tho man with the scarred face kept bin in eight steadily and relentlessly. Dick came to a point in the road where ho know from previous experiences that a shorter cut took him round by all old disused quarry. Boeing nothing of tho man who followed, he took that road rapidly. And presently, at the loneliest point of it, turned at the sound of running feet, and in a moment was grappling with a man aiming blows at him with what seemed to ho the butt end of a revolver. It was an unequal battle out there on the loneliness of the marshes. Dick stood no chance. - Presently ho lay still, as though dead, with a great blackness fallen i as it were upon him. And the man with j the scarred face knelt beside him, carefully and systematically turning out his poc- j kets. j

CHAPTER XXI. Eli Oldershaw carried out his work in the most casual fashion, turning the unconscious Dick this way and that as he made his search. It is" scarcely necesary to add that the search proved fruitless ; so that presently the man with the scarred face sat back upon his heels and looked in perplexity down at his victim. It was not a pleasant thought that he had perhaps killed a man to no purpose. " I've stuck to liim too closely to have allowed him to get rid of the thing to anyone else," he muttered, "arid I can't have been mistaken about what he said to tho girl. In this game of hide-and-seek the chances .-.re all against —but I'll win yet. I wonder now if, after all—"

He did not finish the sentence. After standing for a little time looking at Dick he stooped down, took him by the shoulders, and dragged him oat of the way into the shadow of a little clump of bushes beside the. road There was not the faintest feeling of compassion in the man; ho thought of nothing but, the. diamond, and already, a3 he turned away, was rapidly mapping out another course of action. He Bet off at a great rat© for the inn.

Ella Corbett had waited contentedly enough for the return of Dick. All was very right now, and her father would bo reassured' as to her safety ; to-morrow she would return to London under careful escort. Only ono thing troubled her; tbe lower part of the house seemed filled with rough men, who shouted and sang and cursed, and for her better protection she turned the key in the lock. She sealed herself at the table, leant her elbows upon it, and dropped her chin in her palms. She longed for Dick's return; tharo was ro much, she had to say to him, so much ho would have to say to her. At the thought of how, in a moment, without any explanation, she had found herself in his arms, and of that further recollection of what a hasty, happy business their lovo -making had been, she turned rosy red, and laughed softly to herself. The man with tha scarred face, in the meantime, had gained that balcony outside the window. Peering in now, he saw that tha girl was seated with her back to it. Quite noiselessly ho opened the window and stepped into the room. Ella, in a waking dream, heard nothing. The man was behind her, and had slipped a hand over her lips before she knew what had happened.

. "Keep quiet, my bird, and don't fight," he whispered, as she struggled to her feet. "Make a noiso. and it will bo.the worse for you. I mean business, and I'm not to be put off. Treat me iairly, and nothing shall happen to you. If you scream —well, you'll only scream onco. Now, .ire you going to listen to reason? If you are, nod your head."

She contrived to do that with somo difficulty, and tho man released her. "Who are you?" sho demanded; tor, of course, sho had nover seen tho man in her life before. " Your father Knows me, and Mr. Flamank knows me," he replied. "I have come in search of something that quite a number of people have been looking for. I'vo only missed it by tho barest chance more than once."

" You mean the diamond?" she asked

quickly. He 'nodded. " I see you understand, without a lot of explanation being necessary," he said. " I like a girl who'll get to business at once. If you'll just hand it over quietly I'll say good-night to you, j and you won't see mo again." [ "But I haven't got it," she replied. "I ! swear to you I haven't got it." He laughed a little disdainfully, and thinking to frighten her very slowly drew his revolver from his breast pocket and held it balanced between his palms. "I wouldn't upset a lady for the world," be said quietly, " but Fvo gone through a lot to get that stone, and I'm prepared to go through a lot more. I shall hurt yon if yon don't rrive it up." Somewhat to his surprise tho girl walked up to within a couple of feet of him. "If I had the thing," she said, bitterly, "you should havo it without a moment's" delay ; I hate the thought of it. It has caused more misery and violence and bloodshed than anything else I have heard of. I haven't got —" " I behove vou," ho flashed out at her suddenly. "But you know who has.' "Yes." ' "Who is it?" he demanded. "I know you're not lying ; you couldn't look at mo like that if you were." " I won't tell you," sho replied fearlessly. "You say you would do anything to get hold of it; 1 won't help you." He gave a little hard laugh. " I've narrowed it down a bit," ho said. " I'll begin with your father." " No—no —I swear to you that he hasn't got it. I thought he had; only to-night I discovered that that was a mistake."

"Better and better," ho laughed, slipping the revolver into his pocket. „"*«■- mank's my last card— play him. " Flamank is the man," she replied in a low voice. . ■ , . He walked across to the window, hesitated there, and looked back at her. "I wonder if you're selling me?" he said. If I thought you were—" "I have told you the truth," she . an : swered him, as calmly as she could. And he believed her, and with a nod went out through the window, closing it behind him. It had indeed narrowed itself down to Flamank, and Eli Oldershaw reminded himself bitterly that Flamank was the one man of whom* he had taken no notice— the one person ho had not suspected. He thought of that young man lying out on the marshes, probably dead ; but he regarded Richard Haydon as having been a mere pawn in the game, to be sacrificed if necessary. And those love episodes he had witnessed between the girl and Dick did not affect a man of the type of Eli Oldershaw. And so for the moment we leave him setting out, with no possible clue to guide him, in search of Flamank. Ella Corbett, left alone, in the inn, began to wonder why it was that Dick remained away so long. Hour after hour went by, and there was no sign from him, and no ! word: finally she heard men trooping out into the darkness, with shouts and calls to each other gradually fading away ; then the noise of bolts being thrust home into their sockets—all the sounds of the closing of the place for the night. She unfastened the door and wont out on the landing There she met a heavy, coarse-looking landlord, who stared at her in some perplexity, and who summoned his wife. The wife nroved on inspection to be as coarselooking as her husband, but to have a woman's heart beating somewhere within her. Sho sent her husband away, and listened to the girl's somewhat feeble explanation of the happenings of the evening. Above all, Ella implored her not to close the house until Haydon had returned. "It will be all right, my dear," said the woman, not ungently. "When the young man comes back e'a on'y got to knock, an" one of us'll let 'im in. You go to bed, an* don't you trouble; 111 eeo the young gentleman as a room." Ella went to the room assigned to her— but not to sleep. She did not even undress ; she sat at the window all night, looking out towards the dark marshes, wondering what had happened. It seemed to her possible that Dick, finding he could not get a telegram or message through, had found some means of getting to London ; vot, on second thoughts, she felt that he would scarcely have done that without sending word to her of what ho was J doing. So the long night passed, and the j dawn grew in the sky ; and at the window of the inn Ella Corbett watched and i waited, while poor Dick lay out on the marshes, within a couple of miles of her. I By the time the morning had dawned Ella had frankly made up her mind that .Dick had gone to London to find Monkton Corbett; there was no other possible explanation of lib absence and his ailenco. In any case, she could do no good by remaining where sho was. She decided to go to London by the earliest possible train. Sho loft a" written message at the inn to bo given to Richard Haydon if he should return there, paid all that was duo, and started some hours later from Sheerness back to London, in search of Dick and of her father. It has to bo recorded that, although Richard Haydon had said nothing to Ella, concerning Rhoda Nunn, except to speak of her trenchery, yet he had come faca to face with the girl in the little village of Bumtfield Marsh. For Rhoda, after her work was done, and after she had seen, zr- she believed. Ella Corbett safely on the first steps of that journey that was to carry her away from England and from Dick, had discovered that there was no possibility of her getting back to London that night For the matter of that, sho war not particularly anxious to do so; there was still a fear in her mind that, after all, something might, happen that would prevent Ella Corbett from leaving the country; so that Rhoda would find her work all undone. She made casual inquiries concerning the possibility of getting a train to London ; and finally turned away from the station, and as if drawn by a magnet, made her way back to the village. At o. street comer sho ran against" Ricliard Haydon. For a moment or two they stood there, staring at each other in the'light of a street lamp; and then Dick took her by the arm, looked into her frightened eyes, and spoke, if the truth be told, more* brutally'than ho really intended. " What have you done?" he asked. " Nothing," she stammered. It was only by the merest chance that I found out what had happened," went on Dirk. "Why have you lured her away like this? What harm has she ever done

you?" He still held her by tho arm. and now she shrank away from him, with her eyes

averted. He felt her trembling m his grasp. "I— can't tell you," she whispered. " You—you wouldn't understand." " Where is she?" demanded Dick. "I won't tell you!" panted the girl. " Only that . I hate her—and I will do anything to hurt her. That's reason enough for you. Lot me go!" " Not till yon tell me where she is. I've got to find her!" exclaimed Dick, retaining his grip on her arm. "I've been, a good friend to you, Rhoda," ho went on, with unconscious irony, "and I can't understand your hatred of Miss Corbott. I'll never forgivo you for never, as long as I live. Will yon tell me where she is?" But she broke away from him, and, sobbing wildly, fled into the darkness. Whereupon Dick did the one sensible thing that might have occurred to him before, and went to the one inn tho village boasted—• with what result we already know.

(To be continued on Saturday next.)