WHISPERINGS TONGUES.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLIX, Issue 15131, 23 October 1912, Page 11

WHISPERINGS TONGUES.

BY RALPH RODD, Author of " A Marriage by Capture," " A , . Step in tho Dark," "The Hand on the Strings," "A Velvet Knave," etc., etc.

PUBLISHED BY - SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

yl' CHAPTER XVII. -<; \-■ •> '• ■ jtjjy dear old friend!" .Albert Lesu- <-', r - er ' s hand was on the professor's shoulder. Klijis voice was no longer bland, it was ■ very kindly and it vibrated with real '" sympathy. :. • "Why, professor, you mustn't let these -•■■■ horrors upset you like this." The man addressed let his hands fall, - . jjjoso other two were shocked by the misery on the drawn, haggard face. It fiJtwaß such a fine face from the point of ||ltsi e of the student. It was- thoughtful - a nd benevolent. Yet, as Henderson looked at it, it struck him for the first time that the lofty brow and clear, thoughtful eyes ■ 'rdominated the lower half of the face'mouth and chin wero weak. ."• "Do you realise,." Lawrence asked, - ".that lam the man who—to quote Hen- . derson's own words—has everything to . -gain by tho 'removal of the squire and his wife at practically one and'jthe same time?'"

! Keith Henderson told himself that he fgllw getting accustomed to being startled ;/- v in this " peaceful" little village of -Brant, bat the rector only patted the speaker's prematurely bowed shoulders with renewed warmth. •-■"/ '"Oh, nonsense, professor," he said. ."Nonsense! ' The other Jpoked up at the speaker with inournful eyes. / : • , .. /.Is it nonsense that, if Ursula Winner and. her husband are removed, I inherit every, penny . of her large fortune ? . The fllljold-- relative who left it to her had ;no fpfffancy 5 " for his - hard-earned money going Ipfeai-: of the family. He left it to Ursula . and her children; failing issue, her husj;ahd':was to enjoy a We interest, and. at Wmns death everything comes to me." •'&?' ' ' Henderson smiled.- - -•-"- . <• f » •. \ " Really, professor, you are far too morbid. Nobody would ever dream of suspecting yeu- Besides, you are much too lill'rich to have any need to covet another's fortune." '. -, ...."■■ \>. «' I'-ra not rich. I'm a.poor man. Like' ,- Wilmfr, I live on "the bounty of my wife." Unlike him, I have not even a life .-.in-. -'-- terest in her money." • \ .;/ , ffsT'' Well, arid what of that It' is a bad outlook for all of us if every time a rich -' relative dies we are to be accused of shaking the hour gl^ss." : . ~ k .., ; ,,.,,..k, " Quite ;■■' true," interposed the rector. "Why, my own little income came to. me

from ;an aunt. I trust ho one suspects me , '/of even having wished to hasten her end. Come, Lawrence, come. 1 Be reasonable." --".'.They were "both of -them.' looking to see signs of • returning composure "they were - both '{■ shocked and , puzzled to * note that ?J%the man's: fear had increased. " " Henderson did not talk like that when ' v.he was ready to' accuse Joe Wilmer, of all men, of trying ■to murder/the , wife he HI loves," the professor whispered, and in his SSlow' tone there was a tremor of horror.. : :> ; Keith Henderson -was intensely uncomfortable. ■■- . "The cases are not parallel. I admit that the idea of motive did-occur.'to me, ■'■■'-' but I had a great deal more than; that to '" '"■ "go on. I don't know how" much. you've . . Seard. professor, : bat ; everything '.pointed. - : :" to Mrs. Wilmer ; having - taken poison; in; ": a- glass of champagne poured out for her ' by her husband. Wilmer ,v subsequently— ' I trust by accidents-broke the empty glass. He -went further than that, for he picked «Viip the pieces < himself and . put ; them • into i 'the fire. . Fire would not consume ; the . glass, but, as you know, it would remove --' every trace of what .the glass had con- ■':■: tained. : The action was .terribly -significant." ■ . ' • ~, • : , -David Lawrence: did not appear .to be '" ' even listen-In His elbow on the arm W. of his chair, his head rested on his hand, ■'"-/ and he gazed-: into the fire. . _ v ?':< a |i ■ "They will both be murdered,".he said i •in a dull, expressionless ; < tone. "They I will both be- murdered, - and sooner or I later I shall be accused of it." Keith Henderson shrugged his shoulders. He was not unsympathetic, : but -the posi- | W- tion the old scientist had - chosen to - take VI: up struck • him -as utterly unreasonable. 1 E3jet> the V professor : '\ clung to r: , it. with : the ! -".' tenacity of a terrified:child. ; :-•".>- - -■-'"? The kind-hearted rector .puckered: his h& brow -into a dozen ; creases as.lie. glanced •'' from one to the other of his companions.- .- ■'" Really, I never :; hear/l • anything ;i BO ridiculous, '* •• he ejaculated. :; He j walked over to the fire and ; stirred it vigorously. - .When' he turned, round it was with welli assumed briskness. A 1 Well, at any rate, Inhere "is : another ; reason why we must get ffiiiioHhe"bottom';of 'this wretched : ;affair as toon as 'we can." V His optimism never admitted the possibility of complete failure. ',: had :r taken -- a, ; chair as' far from the lamp as possible; for the mofjpaerit':: he ? could ; riot bring -his thoughts to -bear upon the primary „ question. -He! could % do" nothing but :go on -wondering JppiwKy)a : staid, elderly man .of science should behave so absurdly, sand ■■, again arid ; again l|fpie found his glance wandering to the professor. ■ ." .< . -. .':■.. % ':■'■' -i "Come, now," the rector-said in the I persuasive tone in' which vhe gently J called the refractory members ,of ' his ? little flock --■■; back to the sweet paths of reason. - :v -" Coma, now,- we must,consider-this mat-; r :f kr carefully. -Though for myself, I; should |fr|Mßiffif ; fup. the requirements of the position ("Come, now, we consider this matter carefully. -Though for myself, I should TOM up the requirements of the position in the one word ' police.' " ||l|plThe man wio was watching was at first astonished, then scornful. He was certain Ihat at the mention of the. word "police" David. Lawrence had shown in- | sieased :feax. . ... - : ' *' lam afraid we must dismiss that, idea *:'• tor the present," he said slowly, and he' -J, sever took-his eyes off the professor, " be- .. L cause Mrs. Wilmer absolutely refuses to entertain it." He was sure that a modi- -'. cam of relief had crept into the face he was scrutinising. "Mrs. Wilmer is [ : . - afraid lest the authorities should come to the conclusion I came to.' She is an extraordinarily brave woman, and . would rather face any danger than have her hus- < . / hand suspected of anything so, ghastly as i fftP*-- • t , -~ '*\ .think Ursula is quite right, said i : Lawrence quickly— quickly. - /, - "And 1 think she is quite wrong." Albeit Lesurier was growing almost irrit- ' able under the strain of abnormal hapt penings. "However, we all know that Mrs. Wilmer is not easily influenced/ so .' perhaps, Henderson, you will tell us what - you suggest. You'll have some scheme, I know.'" I .'The one addressed had apparently grown j . suddenly weary. He took his watch out ostentatiously. He was not at all sure ! that he wanted this man, who evinced I : such unreasoning fear, to know of the j . % 8t «Ps he meant to take. . ; ;>' 1 say, you mustn't think me unsym- ;. -pi pathetic, but do you know what time it ; iv/.'S-We sha'n't do a bit of good talking . |/ a this hour, and we shall be sleepy in the v #;; morning." '■■■M The rector was a little disappointed in - '?&$& i friend; it was' such . a commonplace •.l/ ending to a confabulation which had ' seemed of incalculable magnitude. He , -;?| h ad hoped more of Keith than this. To ';./??.. Ve ' weariness as an excuse, when a ■ ,/k 'fiend's life is in danger, seemed to him a painful exhibition of callousness. ■'■ -W'i, s Vou like," he said a little primly, • s/; only I warn yflu that I shall not be able '■■ S?: --£; discuss matters for very long to-mor-'/«/;row morning. I have to be in the schools ;;~/ a nine." : H Le? trier had hoped to induce his - - "lend *° relinquish the stand lie had taken - J he was doomed to disappointment.- -.' Henderson was deep in a .work upon the o9 i articles. ,'■ ca" 1 agree with Henderson; I think we j* n do little good by discussing this un- . " nappy business," the professor said, and J? V l6 ears of the man who was holding '; £» theological work uuside down without ." yig are of the fact, the speaker's | yowe.was unwontedly eager. "It really in*! l7 - - ate ' and,we keep such early hours "? the country." oth be - rt £ esurier glanced from one to the • teVm I . l ?. somc perplexity. This sudden £"»> this quite inexplicable cessation of " Sl est m a vital matte.-. "'as difficult to Un « e t r «and. v_.l really should have thought" he was ■■."Waning, and then' he checked him- 1

self.;i^He ? was a very kindly man,_ but never a strong one. There was in Henderson's; face an inscrutable expression which quelled argument. "If you are sure you must be going, Lawrence'; I'll get you your coat," he finished tamely, ana he opened the study door. The professor glanced at his one-time assistant.

"Of course, we must talk this matter over again," he "said. " You would not take any steps without consulting— mean, without talking—them over with me first. As Mrs. Wilmer's nearest relative, I am naturally ' The other man had glanced up from his book. He had been standing all the while, now he closed the volume and laid it down. "Naturally," he concurred, "quite naturally. Are you going? Then goodnight.'" Henderson held out his hand as he spoke, and he glanced keenly at the one who took it. Through his mind there flashed a strange desire to lock the rector out of his own study, push David Lawrence into the easy chair, and order, or beseech him to unburden his mind of what he was convinced was oppressing him. Convention, diffidence, the yeare which separated them, prevented it. This man had been his master; if the pupil had -passed him in the race, the relationship in which they stood was and must ( always be the same. " Good-night, sir,' he repeated. "If there is anything I can do for you or yours I shall be only too glad 1 -' And then he made as though he would have picked up the book again. There was no furtner need for dissimulation ; the professor and his host had left the room, he could hear their voices lathe hall. He was half unconsciously amused to hear the latter holding forth on the advantages of rubber overshoes, yet he was not really listening; he had 100 much to think of for that. The professor had acted ' the part of , a man who possesses, guilty, knowledge. Professor Lawrence was frightened of the police; in spite of the acute, peril in which a relative stood, he was anxious that nothing should be done. The old scientist's outburst was also terribly significant men, whose conscience:, are absolutely clear, ,do not premise suspicion. Assuming, that something had occured to bring so unpleasant a thought to mind, it should have caused indignation rather than despair. "Wonderfully open for the time of year." The rector's platitudes were sometimes irritating, yet in moments of stress they were rather soothing; they recalled the placidity of normal existence. "We can only hope that the old proverb about a green Christmas may be falsified on this occasion." -■ , The worthy man had opened the front door; he was concerning himself about the number of steps to be descended by the parting guest. ', -,-.', „-, '-'-_, Keith Henderson stood in the' centre ot the study;; seemingly listening, yet hearing little.. He was telling himself that, no matter how ■[ suggestive. the situation, nothing should make him suspect' the worst of David Lawrence. Two months ago ,he had allowed what had then seemed to him to amount to ; overwhelming proof of Wil-:. mer's guilt to force' hini ■ into a certain course of action. S- Time alone would prove/ whether he had been right or wrong,, but at least would' never again allow him-, self to suspect any man. r ■"And yet, in - spite .-; of his determination,; Henderson acted strangely. 'As- he heard the hall door close he snatched up his hat from : the floor/ then without an instant's - hesitation, 1? he ';but^ the light,and; having done :so .- he y went '. to the to- . | dow and ; undid the fastening. .. , - "Dear, dear, the lamp- has gone , out! That shows how late we ; are, Keith, arid/I ; was blaming you for being sleepy." The rector of ;: Drant was always -'.'glad'. to ; ? find an excuse anything that had aroused his disapproval. ; '^" n '■"- .;-.„. # /.'/*/? "The lamp is all right: I blew it out. Lesurier, wait here for me; and for heaven's sake don't call out or, try to . follow me." ' ■ " ■'':'•;■' "But, my good Keith " s And then the rector stopped.' The friend, who up to to-night -had "always been so calm and self-controlled, w had' ? slipped/ out of - the room in much the same way as he had entered it. arid" had drawn-the window to behind him. "Dear, dear," Mr. Lesurief, ; " extraordinary ! - •'"■" And he has forgotten to take his coat!" - - H "/ /

; CHAPTER XVIII. , 7,; : ';-V Once i more.? Henderson;, who" was .accustomed to the brightly lighted -streets of big cities; found : himself in a dark" country lane with never a light to be seen. It "was even darker now,than it had been, : for the moon which had 5 shone behind the ; clouds had "set. y, Keith Henderson' was too absorbed in the.- task ■ before him; to notice or to care. If he had paused to think,; he must '''■ have realised how much ~. had,been crammed ; into that one short evening;; His l interview -with Agatha, the sinister incident in the stable yard at the Gryphons,' his meeting with the man* he had mistaken for the squire, encounter with Dr. Bristow. Henderson never paused to recair anything of the past, he was too bent upon'discovering what the next half-hour held. , . ' .*-- The-professor - walked slowly . and with a heavy tread, so that -the one ,who followed had no difficulty in doing so. y. He merely ? kept on \ the grass of the trim lawn; until he heard the garden gate close, then he hurriedv forward, ; reopened, the ■ gate noiselessly, and slipped through. V: ; ; The' instant he did so : ; his interest quickened, for the - professor, instead /of i turning; to the right, in which direction Rose Court lay, had deliberately turned .his .back- on "his' home and was walking towards the village. ' - *■■ : ; - "r-. "4 lt was not k far from : the rectory ; to the village: ">: Having ■■» reached "■; it, : David Lawrence began making his , way up the deserted street, and Henderson, still speculating as to the nature of his errand, fol- \ lowed. ~ ; . : / ■ ■■:'■' , ,' '.'."; . I ' There was no light from any of the cot-1 tage windows, ;only at^ the top of -^ the ; street, where the. road turned ' at right angles, a red lamp burned. Henderson had noticed it before; it had struck him at the time that Dr. r Bristow's surgery was very well placed. Under the lamp the professor paused. There was a light burning in one of the lower windows. •. The professor passed up the tiny garden path, but instead of ringing the door bell, he did a rather curious thing for a staid bid gentleman. He stole across the grass plot, and stooping down, peered through the .window. /The white linen blind had been pulled down, but there was a small piece of glass uncovered at the bottom of the window, the/blind be. ing evidently'a trifle'top "short./ Apparently satisfied with what he saw, the professor went "to the door and knocked. From the other side of the street Keith Henderson watched the little scene with interest, and more than once he glanced round him, fearful lest any should share the incident with him. There was ho one to be seen, the building, in the shadow of which he stood, was not a dwel-ling-house, so that there was no fear of prying eyes from that quarter. The door of Bristow's house opened, and the watcher distinctly 'saw the man himself standing in the little lighted lobby. He had a pipe in his mouth, a newspaper in his hand. It was impossible at that j distance to hear what passed, but-there was an instant's parley, then Henderson's old master passed into the house, and the door was closed. As its solidity shut out the light, leaving the little garden once more in total darkness, Keith Henderson felt a twinge of unreasoning anger. It was as though the door had been slammed violently in his face. ■ He was disappointed, first because it seemed that after all he was to discover so little, and in the second place at the way in which David Lawrence was acting. He had felt all along that the professor had been frightened at. the idea of the aid of the police being invoked. _ It had also been obvious that the gossip and speculation anent Mrs. Wilmer's illness and the squire's sudden disappearance had distressed him inordinately. And so Henderson determined that the old man had come there with some idea of getting Bristow to refrain from taking the step he had threatened, perhaps even of invoking his aid in stemming -tlie rumours which wero becoming so prevalent. In a number of wavs the conclusion he bad come to annoyed Keith Henderson. He did not like the idea of the professor asking favours of a malicious busybody, whoso whole behaviour _ from the first had aroused his antagonism. He was also. more than a little afraid that, if it came to a battle of wits between the two men, Clifford Bristow would discover more than he wished him to know. The professor would tell him where Joe Wilmer was, and all about the

part" he (Henderson) had played, and then the man, who had always shown himself tooprorio to talk, would go and noise his news abroad before it was wise that anyone should know more of the matter. The village policeman passed up the street. He was at the. other side of the road, and ho never saw Henderson at all. The fact increased the latter's confidence. The constable was not likely to 'return for many an hour; there were no spying eves to fear. A consuming desire to see what was going on in 'the house with the Ted lamp took, possession, of the watcher., Under 'any other circumstances he would have turned from, the idea which flashed into his mind at that' moment. Instead of doing so, he cast one more anxious glance round him, then he slipped across the road, keeping well beyond' the circle of light, and into the garden. He was more cautious than the professor had been, for he groped his way to the house wall before reaching the window, and he took advantage of a bush of some evergreen or other in a way the professor had not thought of doing. . ] The watcher never spared a glance for the room info which he peered, all his attention was claimed by its occupants. He saw that the elder man had seated himself, he was leaning forward, grasping either arm of his 1 chair, and he was speaking eagerly, though only the faintest murmur reached the man in the garden. Oliffordi-Bristow half sat, half lolled at the end of the table, his pipe between hie teeth. .He was swinging one.leg to.and. fro lazily both attitude and expression showed that he was determined not to * take any trouble to treat his visitor with j respect. - It was dawning upon Henderson that i the position he occupied at the window , did not seem likely to prove # very advan- | tageous after, all, ,yet with characteristic : thoroughness he set himself to' study the faces before .; him. It was possible that from the play of their features might discover, something of what was passing in the room. . r ■-'•:"' '•■'■ •' * ..•■■■."'" Brbfessor Lawrence's emotions were not difficult to read; for the second time that night he was afraid, while, now he was petitioning for a favour. '"• It gave the fine old face almost a cringing look. It : was less easy to- determine: what thoughts were passing, through Clifford Bristow's brain: at that moment. -, The man's expression was contemptuously indolent, and yet there was in it a suggestion of pleasure at having one who was -I his superior beseeching a favour of him. As the professor finished speaking Bristow shook his head. There was in the movement that mulish obstinacy which kills all hope. The man was not going to give up any • scheme he had in mind, no matter how earnestly his visitor might beg him to do so. For a moment Henderson was puzzled. Bristow , was not content with merely refusing the elder man's request; he had taken his pipe from his lips, and ; with the stem he pointed at one of the drawers in the' writing table near which his visitor was seated. He pointed at jit mockingly; for the moment his indolence had * left him, his somewhat full sensuous mouth grew .'cruel, ; and as he finished speaking he .flung back hisihead and laughed! Into the. watcher's mind there flashed the conviction that he knew now, at any rate, what they .were talking about. Bristow was boasting of the pistol he had found 'that night. That its possession gave him an advantage there Was no , denying. 'The man had his own reason i for wishing to injure the squire of Drant, and, no doubt, -so long as he had the pistol, which bore the squire's name, and which, ; according / to him, ', Wilm'er had >•' dropped : in the park : that night, .he had a piece of evidence which he believed it: would be impossible for the squire's friend's ; to explain away. . , : ;■%*., v, ~ .-, David Lawrence {took a letter case from" his pocket, extracted ,a number of .bank- ; notes - and laid ■ them on - the table. The j watcher's surprise.gave .way. to intense irritation. It was bad enough that the professor » should ; stoop, to beseech, ; but that he should actually attempt to buy the other's silence - was preposterous. ■'■; The 'old man had apparently forgotten * that\ it would at least be: possible to\ prove > that the ; squire had not been .in^-Drant" 1 that night; 'his desire;; to ;assist.-his kinswoman,, or „ his unreasoning terror .of ■■ being himself accused, had warped 'his: judgment. This was the way to make/an. interfering busybody ; gain a dangerously., exaggerated opinion of His own importance. .".V;\, " ; " , Clifford. Bristow; picked up the notes . and' put them in "-: his 5 pocket, then he made some remark to his visitor and ; left the room. .!-., ■'. : ' : L,, V - ''^A:\''<■''".:''■---■• 4 . ',■',. £ The ; instant he was . alone a striking change came over the professor. He was bowed by the weight -jof his ; .trouble' no longer, for ', he got up with surprising - agifity, hurried?across to a side-table'and snatched up, a bunch- of keys, which were lying j there.,. .•> Then- he went.back to the desk and began trying the keys one after another in the; lock of ? the drawer to which Bristow had pointed. .

' Keith Henderson was amazed. He had always admired the professor's attainments, had always ; fond of him, but he had. never, regarded him .as. a man of .action, and that was what the scientist was proving himself to be after all., It was obvious that David Lawrence had no qualms about robbing the Wilmers' enemy —certainly Henderson had none. If the professor could get 1 - possession of the incriminating pistol so much the f better, and the man who watched found himself each moment*growing more excited over the situation. He ; was actually trembling lest Bristow should come back before Lawrence had found the right key and had achieved his object. ._ >' , The drawer was open ■at,'last.. Henderson's eyes' were glued to the window, then; suddenly his jaw fell. With eager trembling • fingers the , professor had after a moment's search snatched something from the receptacle before him; .it. was not a pistol, it' .was a mere square of cardboard. It seemed- to the watcher that the old: man actually snarled as he glanced down, at what he held in 4 his hand, v then ho awoke to the exigencies of the "situation. He locked the drawer hastily, took the keys back to where \he had found them, and after that he hurried over to the fireplace and thrust the object he had stolen Into the embers. ' * The fire was low, stiff cardboard does not -burn readily, but Keith Henderson • saw it bend arid curl. The professor also was watching, yet he was listening as well. Once he turned arid glanced at the door apprehensively. A flame sprang up, its light showed what ■it was David Lawrence was so anxious to destroy, and Henderson's bewilderment increased. In the 'heart of the glowing embers there lay the portrait of a woman. iTo be continued on Saturday next.)