THE LAVENHAM TREASURE.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVIII, Issue 20982, 19 September 1931, Page 12 (Supplement)

THE LAVENHAM TREASURE.

•" By OTTWELL BINNS.

CHAPTER IV.—(Continued). Helen hurried away on the word, and planting himself before Ilenry LavcnJiatn's portrait, the artist stared, at it beneath frowning brows. The likeness to himself was rather remarkable, and suddenly ho remembered the moth-hunter's conviction as to, his name, and the odd remark that ho carried his namo in his lace. Had Hammcrton fj.een this picture, and was that,.Llic explanation of his .wizardry. It seemed likely, yet he had Helen Lavenham's wOrd that no one had recently shown any' 1 ' interest in this portrait savb only that'scared man at The Three Feathers. There must be something rise. The man simply could not have guessed his namo in that off-hand way .without some very clear pointer; and he bad displayed a familiarity with one custom of the Priory which was certainly revealing. That matter of the Hag. Hut that was capaable of explanation. Any gossip in the village, or on the estate even the inn-keeper might have given him that, detail and— His reflections ended abruptly with the gill's return. "If you arc ready, Mr. Lavenhani, the Car is at the door." He left the bouse with her and as she. took the driving wheel lie seated himself Ht her side. As they glided down the drive Lavenharn kept his eyes open for the man who had been lounging in the lane. He saw nothing of him, but a. little way inside the gates he had a glimpse ot Hammcrton standing among the trees, an alert, look on his face, holding that curious stick of his in an odd iashion, two-handedly across his chest exactly as if it were a gun, and he were waiting for a pheasant to go rocketting in the tree tops. Hammer! on could scarcely have missed seeing the car, but he gave no fcign, and as they sped on Lavenhani was left wondering whether that alert look on the other's face was explained by the presence in the park of the grey-hatted watcher. In daylight, unhampered by fog, it 'took but a little while to arrive at the crest of the slope from which they could look down on The Three Feathers. In the cold sunshine, it appeared less for- . 3orn and desolate than on the previous day, when Lavenhani had seen it in unfavourable conditions. But for all (hat it was very solitary; and as they sped towards /it the thought crossed Lavenhapi's mind that here was a fit setting for tragedy. In this solitnde anything might happen; any crime be enacted, and yet go undiscovered for months. He looked at the inn closely. Smoke was blowing from one of the chimneys: in the open, behind the house, a woman •was hanging some linen to dry; but there was no other sign of life. His eyes ranged further across the moor. A few moorland ponies were the only nioving things; nowhere did a human figure obtrude on the vast monochrome of dried heather and dead bracken. But whilst he stared, half a mile or so away, in the direction of a tor, which, bald and, grim lift-eel itself, from the moor at, the rear of the, house, lie caught sight of something that winked and glinted in tlio cold sijnshiT!ei> ...A piece of glass or tin he told himself, thrown there by some careless tenrfstfand not yet- covered by the growth of heather. But though he found an explanation of the quite common phenomenon, he amused himself by trying to mark the place, drawing in his mind an imaginary line between (he tor and the inn along which that gleaming thing must, lie. Helen Lavenhani drew the car up at ( 'the inn. The door was closed, and ' knocking brought no response; so the pair walked round the house to the place where the woman was still engaged in hanging the family washing to dry. The girl was known to the woman, who immediately dropped a curtsey and gave her a civil good morning, adding a greeting for 'Lavenhani whom she immediately recognised. The latter without of time went straight to the poipt. ' 1 ..• . '.'You'had'a visitor here, yestei day, Mrs. Haynes, that man who was taken suddenly' illl." " Left last night zur, tlneo bouts after •'ce drove away with the car." ' " Left!" • " If 1 zaid he bolted, '(wouldn't be 7.0 very far out, vor one minute zo to speak he was zitting an' staring at the vire, an' the next he \vas a-shooting vor his bill an' in a very sweat to be gone. . . . Looked!'as if he'd seen a ghost an' was scared a'most to death," " Ah! Did you have any callers here sifter my departure, Mrs. Haynes ?" • "Two men called vor a drink. On a motor-cycle they was; strangers going on to the 'Duchy Hotel up to Princetown. Didn't stop no more than vivo minutes an' never left, the passage, though my daughter says one of them did take a look info the parlour where that young man was. 'T'was just after they called that the/ man said he must be gone an' began the buzz like a bee caught in a maid's hair. There was fog out, an' the moor be, dangerous vor a stranger when that be the case: but there was no stopping the man. Tic vowed the tog was nothing, an' (hen he laughed like a crazy man. an' said a queer thing." " What was that?" "Well, zur, he said that if the fog ■would bide a road 'twould hide a man too; an' he left me with a notion that lie welcomed the fog which most folk would curse. Anyway, in the end ho paid his bill-' and went off carrying his suit case/' "Which way-did lie-go ?" " Princetown road." "And that was the last, ymi saw of him 7" "The very last, though to be sure my daughter has a notion that, a whole hour afterwards she heard men shouting up on the moor at back of the house; but that I reckon be no more than a silly girl's fancy." Lavenhani thought the. woman might be mistaken' in that judgment, but he did not say so. Having learned all that the woman could tell him he turned away, .and with Helen Lavenharn by his side walked round to the, front ot the inn •'Another disappointment," remarked the, girl lightly. f "Something more than (hat, he answered, staring round the desolate landscape. " Ah! You think there were happenings here last night? 'Those, men—the voices that girl imagined she heard—" " Yes, I was thinking of them. If is possible' that the, pair "were bona fide callers. But (hey had a motor-cycle, as bad t ho watcher of . yesterday who crouched behind the wall .there- And j', is significant that the- man whose, tnesMgp I carried to you departed so hurriedly 1 Her" those men bad called. That, be, was in a" gWt- funk is clear from Mrs. Haynes' - description." He, broke, •off and looked round, his gaze taking in the rising ground at the back of the. inn. ' 'Then he remarked quietly. "'Hint girl •may not. have imagined those, voices 1 'have seen her. She is the stolid kind not, .given , to vivid imaginings. There inav be something in her story." . As- bp-apoke, he remembered the bright •thing "gleaming among the heather •vhidf li'- had marked on their way down '.Hie' voatl; and an unreasoning desire to ifccodi nearer at hand, stirred within him. " Miss' Lavenharn, do you mind if I .leave vou for a few minutes. I should :like tc>-take a- walk as far as that tor (there."' . 1 1;Iel n u/Lavenham's candid eyes met his in - : o Mrftigbi gaze. VYou'are'uqt going to take the view 2" phc asked, . , " No," he, atir.wrred frankly. " The jp'cw does 1101 interest me." The girl nodded. " I understand. 'As ft chances 1 want, to go further myself..

I left a saddle and bridle 011 my dead horse, yesterday, and I want to give instructions for their recovery, and for the fioor creature's burial. . . Shall we say in an hour from now "I think that will bo ample time." " Very well, Mr. Lavenharn, in an hour from now I shall be back. If you tire not here, I will wait." Entering the car, she drove away; and left to himself Lavcnhiim turned to (he hill. Beginning to climb he kept his eyes open, but saw nothing to indicate (hat anyone had passed that way for a veiy long time. The heather was unbroken; in a strip of soft, ground where his own foot left well-defined tracks he found 110 print, of other feet; mid by the time he was half-wav up the hill, lie had decided that he was'following a wild gO"S0 chase llis reason protested. Why should that other Charles Lavenhani have come up here? With the road beneath his Feet, to have taken to the heather in a fog was stark lunacy for any man. Hut, those men on the motor-cycle ? If 110 had fled from them, being pursued he might have left, the road in an attempt to get back to (lie inn. Half-wav up the slope he paused and looked back, and carefully examined the, hillside. The bright thing for which he. looked was not, visible. Father it had ceased to catch the sun's rays or it was hidden from his view by some swell ol the ground; or one, of the many bouldeis with which (he hill was strewn, lie took a careful note of 1 lie road, the position of the, inn, and of the tor behind him, and I then, instead of continuing in tlio direct ascent, began to move across (he hill in an upward line. From time to tiine he paused to survey the ground around him without getting any glimpse of t.ho gleaming point that he sought. At last, when he had almost, given up hope, it leaped into view some three hundred yards to his left, and higher up the slope. Marking the place carefully, as a golfer marks a driven ball, be hurried forward, still following the unreasoning impulse which had started liini upon tlio quest, against his judgment; for, as his mind urged anew, what could he expect to find, beyond a broken bottle or a discarded tobacco tin ? Advancing, he again lost, sight of the. gleam, but that did not. trouble hint now; for with tlio place well-marked he could scarcely fail to find the reflecting surface, lie reached the neighbourhood where tlio thing should have been lying, and looked round, a little eagerly. He saw nothing to account for the gleam. There was a litter of small boulders about, the. plaie, some heather and stunted gorse, but nothing else, lie began to move between the stones, now this way, now that, as a man does when searching for something ho has lost, and which he, knows must be, in the immediate neighbourhood. Then suddenly ho stumbled upon it, and caught his breath as lie did so. It lay almost at his feet, caught in a branch of springy headier—a whitehandled, nickel-plated revolver. For a littlo while he stared at, it incredulously, without touching it. It was a strange thing to find lying there on the. moor-side, where probably not once in years came a man carrying such a weapon. He remembered, as he stood looking down at it, that the pistol which his namesake had produced so dramatically yesterday had possessed just such a shining barrel and chamber, and not for a, moment, did he question that this was the identical weapon. He stooped and picked it up. A quick examination told him that it had five chambers, four loaded and one that had been discharbed, (he, empty shell still in (he chamber. But where was the owner of this neat and almost dandy weapon ! And at whom or what, had if been fired? He looked carefully about,, surveying the ground in the neighbourhood. He found nothing to help him to answer his own questions. The pistol in his hand was the sole indication that the man whom he had come to seek had passed that way. Tt stirred in him a great disquiet as he looked at it. again. That discharged shell was very significant. It meant that the pistol had been fired almost immediately before it. had been lost; for the chamber had not been turned, and the hammer still rested on the exploded cap. Had the chambers been all charged, he would have felt less concerned, since the owner hurrying up (110 hill, or perhaps stumbling among (ho rocks, might easily have dropped it wit limit any immediate consciousness of his loss. But. taken in conjunction with (ho man's fear of those who had watched him and the voices that the girl at the inn had heard last night, that, empty shell was portentous. It implied that tragedy had befallen on (his forlorn hillside, tragedy hidden under'cover of last nights mist and lost in the vast solitude. Hurriedly, 110 turned to ascend the hill. The tor would give him a view of all the immediate neighbourhood, and maybe show him the whereabouts of tlio dread thing that lie expected to find. A whole, twenty minutes passed before, he stood upon the granite summit which lifted itself like a, great jagged tooth above the hill. There, panting, ho looked forth, surveying all points of the compass in the immediate neighbourhood. A few sheep and a huddle of ponies were the only living things that presented themselves to his view. But now he was not, looking for anything living; and very carefully he searched the hillsides for the thing that might he there, unrecking of the cold sunshine which now lit the. great waste from mound to mound. Bock* by rock, each gorso clump, each fold of the hill, lie, searched without making any discovery; and shivered before the iron wind which rang about the tor. At Ihe very foot of the further slope, there was a little, wood, a rare thing oti the moor. It fringed, as lie knew a small stream that further down joined the 'feign; and as lie looked at (hem, in his eyes, the leafless trees had a gaunt, dark aspect. " Perhaps there—" he muttered. "It has the look; and no one ever goes—" He clambered down from the for and began to descend the bill, walking quickly. He had gone but a, little way when something moving awav to I he. left, caught his eye. He took it lor a rabbit until with a gust of wind it lifted high and then flung down again. " A hat!" he ejaculated. He ran towards the place where lie had seen it fall. Before lie reached it, the wind caught the hut. again carrying it merrily across the hillside in a downward direction. He sprinted to overtake it. and was conscious ol a. losing race, when to his relief the quarry was caught and entangled by a clump of gorse. At the. same moment, whilst he was still running, his foot, caught in something that, he had not, observed, and he was Jliiug heavily to the heather. CHAPTER V. Shaken (hough he was by the unexpected crash, Lavenharn rolled over, picked himself up in a (winkling, and stared at the cause of his downfall. In the instant the hat which be had been pursuing was forgotten, for at, his feet, burst open by his own violent contact, lay a small brown suitcase, its contents partly strewn 111 the heather. Amazement was the first thing that, showed in his face, but it quickly gave place to a look of deep concern. That ivory-handled pistol which he had found; the hat which was the, plaything of the moorland wind; this suitcase lying in the heather so far from the road, all pointed to orio thing—and of that he did not like to think. Mechanically, he stooped and began (o gather the scattered things in the case again, and as he did so came upon a, foolscap envelope, full of papers. With a desire to make sure that the owner was indeed the man for whom he had been deputising, he took out, the papers, glanoed at one of them, and caught the namo of Lavenhani.

(CQPTBIGUT.)

Author of "Diana of the Islands." "The Trail of Adventure." "The Mystery of the Atoll." etc., etc.

A STORY OF TENSE AND DRAMATIC ACTION BY POPULAR WRITER.

That banished all doubt from Ins mind. | The man who had fled from The Three ! Feathers on the previous night, was unquestionably the man to whom the suit case belonged. Assured of I hat lie thrnst the envelope into his pocket, thinking Unit a careful examination of the papers iL held might throw light upon the mystery in which ho himself was innocently involved: tlion he finished the repacking. I unci when that was\done fastened (In; case , with the belt of his trench coat. That done he stood up and stared first in the direction of the gorse bushes, wliero the I hat was. and, a moment later, to the | gaiiut-looking wood at the Foot the J hill. ! That some dark thing had happened on ! this remote slope of the moor, lie. was I convinced. A man mifclit conceivably I drop a pistol from his pocket unawares, | or even consciously, and in the dark bo j unable to find it again. Anyone might lose Id's hat in the strong winds that blew : across the moor. But a suitcase! That ; must, have been set down deliberately, or; likelier, abandoned by a man in n great hurry; perhaps by a man who had made ; (he sacrifice of his possessions, knowing . that life was in jeopardy, as most cer- 1 tiiinly that frightened man at tlio inn 1 believed his was. I But why had ho come (his way where , not even a sheep path offered ! jSo man j in his senses would have taken to tlio : moor in the misty darkness unless—yes,! that was it—unless some great peril had | driven him from the road. I As he. stood there, he remembered Mrs. ! Haynes's description of the man's j hurried departure from the inn, spurred , as it seemed by fear, An absorbed look ; came on his face, and for a, moment the wide landscape faded from view whilst he visioued the scared fugitive selling forth in the misty night up the Tavistock Road, carrying his suitcase and bound for heaven knew whorq perhaps only to llie next, inn. That odd remark which he had made to the woman was perhaps a reason for his setting forth in haste. The fog that hid the road would hide a man; but apparently he had forgotten that if it afforded n. eloak tho fugitive it provided a screen for the pursuer. Somewhere up the road lie n«iu became aware of the fact, had possibly encountered those two men who had called at the inn; them or others, certainly. In haste lie had fled (ho road and taken to Hie heather, running wildly up the hill. There he had been in danger of capture, hat! fired his pistol, dropped it, by accident and, being denied time to search for it, had continued his flight. In vision, Lavenhani saw him still running, a desperate, seared man, through the mist and darkness. Panting, breathless, be reached the crest, of the hill, and plunged down the further slope. '1 here he was hard pressed and in his fear dropped the burdening suitcase in order to run the better. Down the hillside he went, tearing his clothes in the gorse, bruising himself on the rocks, and escaping complete disaster bv a miracle. On ho went, a shadowy figure in the dark night, with other siindowy figures at his heels; figures that did not bunch together, but, were spread out, in the manner of men who beat a field for hares. The pursued man ran more wildly, taking terrible chances among the rocks. Before him diinlyoutlined things lifted themselves in the trees. He plunged into their sheltering shadows and was lost 1o Lavenhani s visioning. Where was he ? At the question Lavenhani came out. of his absorption with a start. He looked down the bleak hillside to the dark wood; then a single word broke from him almost explosively. " There!" Ho cherished no doubt upon the matter. Since his encounter with the scared man at The Three I' eat hers all the events which had befallen had indicated possibilities of violence. The tilings which he had found, the discharged pistol, this suitcase, that bat down in the gorse, were all pointers along a tragical road. And that road ended in the dark wood at the foot of the slope. He was as sure of it as if he had seen the culmination of that wild flight in the mist and darkness of last night. He would find his namesake among those gaunt trees, cold and stark, with the last look of fear frozen on his face. For a time he made no move to prove his conviction, but. remained there staring at, the wood, reluctant to act. Why should he make the discovery and be involved in all the troublesome inquiries of an official investigation? He knew nothing about the man. His encounter with him, though it had led him into an extraordinary situation had been of the merest chance; and his acquaintance was of the most slender. If someone olso found the man in the wood it would bo better for himelf, and possibly even for Helen Lavenhani, who could scarcely escape questioning if it were known that he had carried to her a letter from the man who last night had fled so desperately through the darkness. " 00-o-o-ee!" He started at the hail and looked round. Helen Lavenhani was standing at the top of,the tor waving to him. Tie waved back, and drew a breath of rebel. Here, be thought, was his chance of escaping the necessity of going down to that dark wood. She was waiting for him. He would go back to her, and leave the grim discovery for someone else to make. He began the ascent, carrying the suitcase with him. i« oilier part, Helen Lavenhani clambered down the tor and moved forward to meet, him, with light, springing steps, her lissom form outlined against her dress by the, wanton wind, her face gl"Wtng, her eyes bright with excitement. " You have found something, Mr. Lavenhani?" she cried gaily as she approached him. " Yes," he answered as lightly as In. could, " a suitcase—as you see, and one that is full at that." . " Well—" she began laughingly, and then the mirth died from her eyes, the laughter froze, oil her lips, and the face with its delicate loveliness became exceedingly grave. "That man." she said, half whisperingly, " he carried a suitcase when he left, the inn." " Yes," replied the artist. " And that—" she glanced questioningly at the case he carried. " Yes," agreed Lavenhani again. Slowly the blue eyes ranged the hillside. wit h the rocks, the. patches of gorse, the dark wood at. the foot, then came back and met Laveuhaiu's in level gaze. " You have found him?" she asked still in the hall'-whispering tone she had previously used. " No! 1 found the case; but 1 have not looked for him since." " All! " she. said. " You were looking for him then? " Yes! *• You—yon think something has happened to him? " " I am very sure of it," lie answered. " A man does riot, throw away his suitcase for nothing. He may leave it in a train or a taxi, or a- shop, but—" •' \n! " Her eves went down the bill again. " Don't you think we ought, to seek for him ? He may be lost or hurt or Iving exhausted--" She caught the look'on the artist's face and checked her conjectures " You do not think so, Mr. La venhani ? " 'I be words were an assertion rather than a question. " You think that something terrible has happened? " "1 am sine," he answered. " You see rm the other slope of the bill, some distance above the inn, I found this. He produced the pistol as he. spoke, and Helen Lavenhani looked at it in surprise, then she inquired: "You think that it is his?" "I am morally certain. You will remember that I told you that in his funk yesterday the man drew a pistol from his pocket. That pistol was very like this one, of which a chamber has been discharged." (To be continued daily.)