THE LAVENHAM TREASURE.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVIII, Issue 20981, 18 September 1931, Page 14

THE LAVENHAM TREASURE.

(COPYRIGHT.)

By OTTWELL BINNS. Author of "Diana of the Islands,** "The Trail of Adventure." " Tho Mystery of the Atoll," etc., etc.

A STORY OF TENSE AND DRAMATIC ACTION BY POPULAR WRITER.

CHAPTER lll.—(Continued). Lavenhnrn stared at the picture a little bewilderedly. What was in the letter he had brought he did not know, and what the picture was to tell him ho had not the remotest notion. That scared man at tho Three Feathers, in his funk and hurry, omitted to inform him of that. It was something more than a mere answer to tho letter which was wanted; but what was required ho knew no more than the man in the moon. A littlo blankly ho stared at the portrait, and, as an artist, grew interested, while he racked his brain for anything that might servo to indicate what had been omitted from his namesake's instruction. The picture itself was of challenging interest., portraying a tall, spare man, in middlo life, in tho costume of the 18th century, coat of blue volvet, a yellow waistcoat, knee breeches, silken hose and silver-buckled shoes. lie stood with one jewelled hand resting on a revolving globo, on which Africa and India were dimly hinted, while tho other hand held against his heart what was manifestly a bible. The faro of the man, darkly handsome, strong, enigmatic, was arresting; and the eyes, a liLtle sunken and brooding, had more than a hint of power, which was corroborated by tho firm mouth. Not the man, thought Lavenham, to go about tho world with a bible in his hand—a sword seemed the likelier thing. As he stared at tho portrait ho had an odd sense of familiarity with it. But he could not recall ever having seen it hefore; and he explained tho feeling to himself with tho thought that at somo time he must have encountered a print or reproduction of it. There was a namo and a date on tho frame, which ho read mechanically; HENRY LAVENHAM, ESQUIRE. 1746. So that was the name of this enigmatic gentleman with the brooding eye 3; who one-handedlv grasped the bible, while with tho other ho held tho world ! Well, it told him littlo enough, since he had not the needful key. His eyes went to the face again. Where on earth had he seen— Helen Lavenham's voice broke on his thought. " You seem perplexed! " she said a little curiously. What is it!" "Oh!" he laughed, "I have an odd sense of familiarity with Henry Lavenham, Esquire. I seem to have met him either in semblance or in the flesh but for the life of me, I cannot tell where." Tho girl's sudden laughter filled the gallery with music; then sho asked: " You really cannot remember, Mr. Lavenham ? " " Not to save my life! " " Then como. I will assist your memory at the risk of kindling your vanity. This way, please." Straight across the gallery she led him. There, exactly opposito the portrait, a great gilded mirror filled a panel of tho well. She halted him squarely in front. " Stand just there," she commanded merrily. " And now look. You should see the reflection of Henry Lavenham, Esquire."

He looker! and saw the reflection of the portrait behind him. lie studied it carefully, but saw nothing that would afford ;i spur to his memory. He looked round—- " Still, I do not see—" Helen Lavenham's laughter again rang through the gallery. " Thero are two reflections in the glass. If your modesty will permit you, compare them. The key to that which perplexes you lbs between the pair—l fancy." He stared in the glass again, first at the reflected portrait and then at the reflection of himself. Insantly, he caught the girl's meaning. The elusive likeness stood revealed. Thero were differences; tho hollows about those brooding eyes, the furrows in the cheeks, the hint of dark melancholy; but there was essential likeness, something that despite tho differences could not he denied; a strong resemblance proclaiming the link of blood and rare. For a moment he was too amazed to speak, then ho ejaculated: " Great Harrv! "

" Great Henry, you mean," the girl cried, while her laughter trilled. " Though I have no doubt that before he bought that bible and got religion, he was called Harry Lavenham—for Henry has not the dare-devil ring. It is too—too respectable to go with the skull and cross-bones." Her laughter sounded again; then she faced him with a sober air. " But perhaps, Mr. Lavenham, having found the likeness that troubled you, the riddle you camo to read is plain to you ? " It wasn't. It was indeed a sevenfold mystery. As ho turned to the picture anew, Charles Lavenham cursed his namesake at the Three Feathers, for leaving him in the air. He felt a fool, and was assured that presently he must proclaim himself both fool and impostor. But with a desperate hope that ho might yet save his faco beforo this frank and lovely girl, recalling that sho had mentioned the artist's signature, he looked for that, and stared at it as keenly as a man might stare at a thing that offered unhoped-for salvation. CHAPTER TV. Tho signature, if it were that, at which Charles Lavenham stared, was curious enough. In pursuit of bis art he had seen miles of pictures in European galleries, with all sorts of signatures, placed here or there —sometimes on the hem of a robo, across a bush, or on an open book, and so on, as the fancy of the individual artist had dictated, but never had he seen one like that on which ho looked. In the right hand corner of the picture, painted in a colour like that of faded ivory, was a skull and cross-bones, a ghastly symbol, which notwithstanding the fading due to the passage of nearly a couple of centuries, stood out conspicuously against tho dark background. On the grinning skull was what lie took to be the signature proper; but which as he looked at it did not resolve itself into anything more than a curious hieroglyphic. Tt was roughly drawn in scarlet across tho skull itself, thus: — An odd thing, he thought, and tho more lie stared at it the less intelligible did it become. Of tho outer lines he could make nothing whatever.. Look at them from what angle ho would, he could not make them take the shape of any letter, and finally he gave his attention to the smaller figure. Again he was baffled. 110 could mako neither head nor tail of it, though he stared for quite a long time, and at length the girl fiaid: " You havo solved tho riddle, Mr. Lavenham ?" "No!" he answered slowly. "No! Itis not very clear, is it?" Helen Lavenham laughed. "It has puzzled some generations of Lavenhams. I believe. But I gathered from tho lotter you brought that tho solution would be certain." " The writer of tho letter has, i imagine, never seen that fancy piece of work," ho replied, laughing to conceal a growing embarrassment. "If I could mako a copy " " No need, Mr. Lavenham," answered tho girl lightly. " I have a photograph I can present to you. You must know that ever since I was a small child with a governess, 1 havo been interested in this picture of Henry Lavenham, and tho story that was told of him." " Thero is a sK-iy, then?" "Why, yes." Tho girl looked at him a. littlo curiously. " But surely you know." " No," ho answered. " T know nothing." " But - M The girl's bewilderment was plain, and quite suddenly, Lavenham decided to make a clean breast of the whole affair.

" I suppose you think I ought to know, but it is tho simple truth that I know nothing, that I ain just a messenger in profound ignorance of the message I delivered, and equally ignorant of what is expected of mo further, tho man who sent mo having bungled the instructions. If you will listen I will tell you how I came to be here, for tho truth is that I feel a most awful impostor " "Impostor! You?" Tho girl laughed a littlo incredulously. " Unintentionally, I assure yon. But tell me. From something you said last night you wero this morning expecting a visitor ?" " Why, yes, you, Mr. Lavenham." " You were expecting Charles Lavenham, yes; but whilst that is my name, t am not tho man who had made the arrangement to call." Tho girl's face expressed her bewilderment. " But in that case how did you know. How did you come to the Priory with that letter ?" " That is what I mean to tell you, for I am convinced that there are tilings behind the situation of which neither of us has the remotest idea." lie did not wait for any comment, but, anxious to convince her, plunged into a narration of the events that had befallen since his finding of tho letter the previous day. Helen Lavenham listened in growing amazement, and at tho end cried: " And you do not know what mystery is behind ?" "I havo not tho foggiest notion; hnt for a guess it has something to do with that picture there." The girl looked swiftly at the portrait, with its brooding face, then moro to herself than to the artist whispered, " It would be strange if—" She did not finish the thought, but stared at the picture thoughtfully until Lavenham broke on her reflections with a question. " Just now, Miss Lavenham, you mentioned that there was some story about your ancestor there. I wonder if you would mind telling me it, or at least indicating its nature. It might afford some clue to the mystery." " Oh!" she replied with a little laugh, " thero is no secret about it. It is known everywhere, and even hinted at in one of the guide books. The story is that Henry Lavenham, a younger son, with wild blood in him and a taste for the sea, left Devonshire and entered on the Guinea trade—was, in fact, a slaver, and later a pirate. At the latter trade, according to the legend, ho prospered exceedingly, and on the death of his father and elder brother he came back to the Priory, bringing with him great wealth. No one ever actually saw the treasure, but there is a story that is whispered in thp countryside, even yet, that he returned to the Priory in the dead of night, in the very thick of a Dartmoor fog, accompanied by a single black servant, who was dumb, and that on the day after his return a newly-mado mound was found up on the moor which looked like a grave. It was a grave, for there is a family record that Andy Lavenham, that gentleman whose portrait hangs next but one to Henry, had opened it, and found there tho bones of two men, with rusted pistols and hangers.

" Whether theso two men were in any way associated with Henry Lavenham's return is not known; it is possible, but there is no doubt whatever about the black man, for there is a picture of him in the library, with an inscription ' Fidus Achates, painted by command of Henry Lavenham, whom he served.' So there Is a core of truth in the legend, but whether there is more Ido not know. If Henry Lavenhani did bring a treasure with him he either incorporated it, in the estate, or hid it where it could not be found." " That grave—" began the artist quickly. The girl laughed softly. 4 Ancestor Andy had that idea, but ho found no more than dead men's bones." " But if thero should be hoarded wealth?" Helen Lavenhani laughed again, merrily this time. " You share that conjecture with all the Lavenhams since Henry went to the family vault. . . When I was a child, I used to dig secretly in the garden, looking for the hoard, and Andy Lavenham has left it on record that following the same search he was gruesome enough to open his ancestor's coffin, where apparently he drew a blank cover. . . But you have now heard all the story which brings in that portrait, averring that the secret of Henry Lavenham's piratical hoard is (here, though no one has been able to read the riildle. I had an idea when I got your note—or rather I should say the note of the man I mistook you for —that perhaps after all the solution had come to hand. You disappoint me terribly." Lavenham did not join in the laughter which accompanied the words. Whilst she had been speaking half-jestingly he had seen a glimmer of light on the mystery. It broadened as he considered and whilst he stared absently at the man who, having sailed under the Jolly Roger, had caused to bo painted that dread symbol on his portrait, his mind was at the gallop. Here was a possible explanation of those watching men, and of the terror of that man at TTie Three Feathers. It was far-fetched, of course, belonging to the realm of romance rather than of reality. But men did go treasure-hunting every day. Never a year passed without the newspapers mentioning some such quest. There were companies formed; expeditions equipped. He whistled thoughtfully, then suddenly asked a question. " Miss Lavenham, has anyone else, any stranger, I mean, displayed any interest in your picture gallery lately?" The girl shook her head: "No." lie thought of the letter he himself had brought. There might be light there; but shrinking from appearing impertinent he forbore from questioning her upon it. " That photograph you mentioned ? If you could trust mo with it for a little while —" " Yes!" she broke 111. " But what will you do with it?" " I shall take it to tho man who sent me hero and make him own the truth. If he has the secret he shall proclaim it, for somehow T ha¥c a feeling that he lias no right to divide my name with me. It may be 110 more than unreasoning prejudice, but it is there." "1' will got. tho photograph; and 011, I will come with you, if I may." " It is likely that he has already left Tho Three Feathers. But if he has notr—" " T should like to seo him. If you will excuse me. I will havo my car brought round." (To he continued daily.)