THE WRONG THAT WAS DONE.
BY JOHN IRONSIDE
CHAPTER XVl.—(Continued.) Martin turned an interrogative glance on his brother, which Stephen met with a significant nod; an expression that ceitainly looked like appeal in his blue eyes. He was flushed, nervous, and ill at ease, and Martin wondered if he. had been drinking. " But I can't stay to tea, Miss Kennedy," Stephen said hurriedly. 41 "Neither cnu I, it you'll excuse ino, paid Martin. " I must go along to Crosscombe, haven't been there for days. But I'll look in on tho way back if I may." " Yes, do," smiled Kate. " Give my love to Miss Eliza. I was with her last night."' , ~ , II "Well, what is it: Marlsn asked when they reached the la no where the bicycles were propped. " I want t<> consult you, old man. I'm—we're in a bit of a hole." All Stephen s assurance had gone. With his hands thrust in his pockets, his shoulders hunched, hu voice almost- humble, he clearly was in distress. " But wo can t talk out hero. Come along to the house, my mother is away. 'Martin had never set foot, in that house tinco the day of his father's funeral, years before. " All right," lie said quietly. And I've one or two things to say to you, too. What's the motor-launch for?" ' "It's not mine!" Stephen declared hastily. . , . r "I never supposed it. was. Its tho syndicate's." , Stephen stared at. him in consternation. "You" know ! You vc known all along . " I should have been blind and a tool if I hadn't." " But—vou said, when we—or rather, when Mick Kennedy broached it to you, three years ago or more, that you'd have nothing to do with it, one way or the other." You're not going back on that. " Unless I saw tit to take a hand. Don't j forget that 1 made that proviso." "You've changed your mind? You—you're coming in with us?" "Not on your life' You ve got to stop it, Stephen! The whole lot of you." " "It's been stopped for months. lou know that, as well as I do, as you seem to know so much."
They reached the house and went -through to tho dining room. Martin declined to sit down. '• It's been in abeyance, for more than one reason, and you're preparing to resume it. I say it s got tevstop. His face and tone expressed utter contempt. , . " Why on earth don t you stand in with us'?" asked Stephen. "I preferred to look on; remain neutral, if you liko to put it that way. But I've changed ftiv mind. I changed it, when I found that your—business transactions—stopped at nothing. even murder —or attempted murder . '" That was an—an accident. I wasn t in it I was up this end. Then you did know, more than I do, perhaps. Who was it?" , , ' "It was lucky for the whole lot ol you that only I, and ono other, did know! And now you must, drop the whole thing at once. That s all I have to say to you. A fair warning that you 11 act on if you're wise. Now, what do you want?" _ Stephen looked distractedly at his brother's tall figure, erect on the hearthrug, at 'the grave face that .looked lmmovable, implacable as Fate. ] " It's so jolly difficult." he muttered. " I'm sick 'of the whole thing myself and wish to heaven I was well out of it. I've wished it. ever since I met— Nan." , ~ ■ ~, " What has she to do with it? "Everything. You must have seen how I'm gone on her. Who wouldn t. bo? Shouldn't, wonder it' you aren't yourself. She goes_ about with you enough, while she keeps me at arm's length,'and that makes me all the keener. I hardly know ii I'm on my head or my heels. ' She's turned me down twice, just laughs at me. But I tell you I'm serious, more than I've ever been about anyone or anything in my life before. And that's"why 1 want to get, shut of the syndicate, and the whole thing, and go straight." - " Was this what, you wanted to consult mo about?" interposed Martin drilv. . . ""it all hangs together. But, I said, it's difficult. I know how we ye all treated you, Martin—mother and I, and dad when ho was living—and you ye never shown malice. And I haven t another soul to turn to. "Well, what's, up?" Martin asked. "We're in the most, awful hole. Partly because of that, set-back in the spring. But for that wo could haio tided over. 03i, I know we ought to have taken care of our pile as we made It, same as Mick Kennedy did, but vou know how it's always been with us! We didn't even pay off or reduce the mortgage, and if we can't put up the interest by Monday, there's only one day left, they'll foieclose." " How much ?" „ " A hundred and, forty would do it. " What's tho use of coming to me? I haven't the forty, and couldn't raise it by to-morrow." *' Yes, you could. From Aunt .Lliza. She's got plenty." "Aunt Eliza!" Martin repeated. " Whom neither you nor your mother have ever spoken to, or of, civilly in your lives!" " I know. We've been rotters over her. as over you. But there s the family honour, tho Strong name. Shed nave them, not for us, but for you. c ' do anything in the world for you. That was true enough, Martin knew, yet he stood,, stern, silent, while Stephen pleaded and "promised. "Very well," Martin said at, last. " I'll put it, to her, anyhow. At once. Ignoring his brother's protestations,, and thanks, he left him and cycled thoughtfully along the lane to Crosscobe, left the machine by the hedge and went up to the house, to hcai fiom within long-drawn howls from Kovei, shrill, painful, ululatious that changed to agitated barking as the dog, who appeared to be shut in the hnll, heard and recognised 11is footsteps, Martin called i io him as he tried the front door. That was fastened, and uneasily he _ hurried round to tho back door, found it closed but unlocked, and went in. The dbg bounded on him, whining and barking, rushed to the closed door of the bedroom, scratching frantically on 'the panels, that were scored with the marks of his nails. Calling to his aunt. Martin opened the door, and stood aghast. The room itself was in perfect order, bat beside tbn open bureau, in a huddled heap, lay Miss F.lizn, naitly rupportcd by the heavy writing chair. 11 or head Ragged back," and the westering sun shone on" her upturned face, terribly distorted with fin expression of anger or fear, or both. Her eyes were open, glaring, Sightless. Site was dead. CHAI'TER XVII. .MOD E MYSTEUIES. 'Almost for the lirsl. time in his life Martin Strong lost, his self-control. Sobbing like a, man who has received a fatal bullet wound, he knelt distractedly beside the dead woman, and put. his aims about, her. calling to her, trying, with trembling firigeis. to close, terrible, staring eyes, while the dog crunched beside him, howling piteously. Sho' was cold and stiff, and must have been dead many hours. It, seemed dreadful to him to leave her as ho found her, but, as nothing could be done, he knew that was the light course. Tho doctor wouitl want, to see hei thus. He decided that the first thing was to fetch tho nearest doctor from Shelforcl, who had attended her for years. Tenderly and reverently he spread the bed cover over her, comforted the dog, who though he must, have been ravenously hungry, refused to cat, but lapped water
(COPYRIGHT.)
A BRILLIANT AND THRILLING LOVE ROMANCE,
greedily, and stretched himself obediently outside the bedroom door, to keep guard. Within an hour tie returned with l'r. Mason, and an elderly nurse, Mr-",. Dermis. "Heart," was the doctor's verdict. " I've ahvavs been afraid of this, and have warned her'repeatedly—told her how dangerous it was, at her age, to live alone. " I know. 1 would have, come to her long ago, but, she. wouldn't^ have even me. Not to sleep in the house." " Same with me," put in Mrs. Dennis, a. thoroughly capable and kindly woman, who immediately assumed charge ot everything, to Martin's great relief. " I d have come gladly, for I got- on very well with her. You camo up most clays, dicln t jou, Mr. Strong?" Martin nodded sadly. " When were you last here?' asked tho doctor. Xt- i i i " Wednesday—no, Thursday. Night before last. And she was just as usual then. So she was last night, when Miss Kennedy was here, the lady at Jack of I lubs. llie.y had become very friendly. " Then she must have been the last • person to see your.aunt alive For it occurred last night, undoubtedly. Well, this lady must appear at the inquest, which will be purely formal, for there, s not a shadow of doubt as to tho cause of death." . " Rut—thai dreadful expression on hei face!" Martin muttered, pressing his hand over his eves. . They had now gone into the sitting room,'but ho felt as if tho sight of that agonised face would haunt him, waking or sleeping. " That's merely a. symptom, and a, proof, if any further proof of the disease were needed. Angina causes terrible pain, and always a keen sense of fear, .especially in a fatal attack. Don't take that too 'much to heart, Strong." Dr. Mason counselled. " I'll be over in the morning and make all arrangements." Martin attended him down to his car, and then went back by the lane to Jack of Clubs. He was to return to Crosscombe for tho night, but Mrs. Dennis had declined his "present help, and he felt he must see Miss Kennedy, if possible. He must unburden himself of the tragic news, which also she should be one of the first to hear, as she would probably ha\o to be (he chief witness at the inquest, next to himself.
The sua had set. but t lie full moon was up, flooding the lawn with lightand making tho shadows among the trees and bushes blacker than ever. Ho paused in tho shadow and stood, staring incredulously at. tho scene that met his eyes. After that he had just left it seemed unreal, fantastic as a dream. From the house, through the windows and front door, all wide open, came strains of music of unearthly beauty, Kate playing the Chopiniana Suite, as arranged for the great. Pavlova, so gay, so graceful, so wistful withal, with tho under-note of sadness that haunts all Chopin's music And on the lawn in the moonlight bobby Johnson and Nan were dancing, she in a shimmering green frock, nymph-like Terpsichore herself. He in the white flannel suit ho had donned, ghostlike and graceful as a faun. Sho looked into his face, just on a level with her own, now swaying apart, nowcoming together, and Martin saw the boy s expression, tho adoration in his eyes. He did not see his brother, Stephen, lounging in the doorway, and sullenly watching the idyllic, interlude. The music ceased, the dancers paused, Bobby with his arm still round her, and her laugh rang out. 44 Ripping! L wy } Bobby boy, now you've improved. It' you go on this way vou'll be an Anton Dohn one of these days! I thought I was never going to dance agaiu—that I d forgotten how " You're simply splendid!" cried Bobby. "Let's have another, Miss Kennedy.' Martin turned to go. He could not break in on them with his tragic tale. He was too late. Nan's quick ear, and quick eyes heard the sounds saw the movement. She sped towards him, Bobby beside her. " "Who's there? Is that the ghost ? sho demanded, caught his arm, and saw his stricken face. " Martini—Martin !" she cried, her own fair face paling. " hv, you you i c ill: What, is it?" she asked softly. You're not —angrv with me—for dancing ? " Good God, no, child!" he said, almost with a sob. " Something terrible has happened. I came to tell you—but "Something terrible! Tell rue —quickly. " Aunt Eliza's dead. I found her. They were all round him now, for Stephen had strolled up, and Kate came running out, and somehow, amid horrified ejaculations, they got indoors, questioning and listening, in the lamplight. All but Nan, the only one who realised at the moment how utterly done up Martin was. It was she who pushed him unceremoniously down into a chair, fluttered into the. dining room, and returned with a stiff whisky and soda, which she thrust into his' hand, with the imperative, command: "Drink this, before you say another word." He obeyed mechanically, and only remembered later that it was she who had ministered to him. ~ "It doesn't seem possible! Kale cried distressfully. " Why, only last night she was so well, so glad to see me. and—— Sho broke off, recalling their intimate chat, and the confidence Miss Strong had reposed with her. " How did you par' with her, Miss Kennedy ?" asked Martin. " She came a little way along the path with me, just on the level, you know. And I looked back just before I passed out of sight and she waved one of her sticks, and called a last good night, Rover was with her. '.And she must have died soon after, if the doctor is light. Oh, Mr. Strong, someone must have come and frightened or angered her —someone who knew sho had nil that money there." "All that, money! What money—where?" exclaimed Martin and Stephen simultaneously. " Oh, I forgot—she told me about it only last night—in confidence, and showed rne where she kept it, in the secret drawer —or it's a deep place more like a well, at tho back of the little drawers in the old bureau. There were a lot of papers in it, and she didn't take them out, but told me there were bonds, and notes, and some gold in a canvas bag, and—oh, yes, and mortgages —" " Mortgages ? ' muttered Stephen, leaning forward, his hands on his knees, his ruddy face blanched. " Yes. Worth thousands of pounds, and that they were all for Martin. But you didn't know about them, did you ! Martin shook iiis head. " F told her bow 4-isky it. was, and she laughed—you know her way! —and said she and Rover were a match for any burglar, and that no one knew they were there, but. herself, and now me. t was so astonished when she took me in and showed me. We d been talking very confidentially, and one thing lo d to another. Someone must have been near, listening and w.itching—" " Someone was there," put m a quiet., confident voice—Bobby Johnston s. ' 1 lie person who shut the bedroom door, attip" the old lady fell—or was knocked down — and who shut the (log in the hall —" "Bv George, you're ncrht enough there," cried Stephen. " Didn't you and the doctor think of il'iat, Martin, " lb- thought- so did I- that, the lit seized her, and she fell u: trying lo get j to the door." said Martin. She was I propped against the. i-hair, as if she. had just risen from it.. But ?f someone war. there, who could it have- been?" Again )i was Bobby who spoke. " What about tho ' cjhost' uho frightened .Miss Kennedy. And who afterwards dropped the vesta I found in the. lane?'" " Yes! There was someone there and whoever it was it wouldn't take them ten minutes to get to Crosscombe!" (To bo continued daily.)
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/NZH19300514.2.193
Bibliographic details
New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVII, Issue 20563, 14 May 1930, Page 20
Word Count
2,607THE WRONG THAT WAS DONE. New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVII, Issue 20563, 14 May 1930, Page 20
Using This Item
NZME is the copyright owner for the New Zealand Herald. You can reproduce in-copyright material from this newspaper for non-commercial use under a Creative Commons New Zealand BY-NC-SA licence . This newspaper is not available for commercial use without the consent of NZME. For advice on reproduction of out-of-copyright material from this newspaper, please refer to the Copyright guide.
Acknowledgements
This newspaper was digitised in partnership with Auckland Libraries and NZME.