MR MINIVER'S MARRIAGE.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1651, 21 October 1903, Page 9

MR MINIVER'S MARRIAGE.

(By John 3v. Leys.) (Author of “The Spy’s Confession.”)

Punctually at half-past eight Mr Alfred d unn Miniver entered the breakfastroom of the Cosmopolitan Hotel, and nervously adjusting his pince-nez took a timid survey of the apartment. lie was a youngish, middle-aged man, dark and slight, with a prematurely bald place at the back of his head and very nearsighted. This little defect, joined to a naturally hesitating manner, pave Mr Miniver the appearance of not knowing his own mind. He hesitated when the waiter drew hack a chair for him, because he noticed that a place'was laid opposite, and he would have much preferred to have a table by himself. But his hesitation was not strong enough to induce him to make any objection; and the wooden-faced waiter, though he saw aud understood the pause aud the dissatisfied look, cahulv ignored them. Five minutes later the swish of a ladv’s silk-lined skirt was heard behind Mr

Miniver’s chair, and ho looked up in alarm. The next moment he had fallen hack in his seat, his lips parted in amazement, a look of consternation in his eyes.

Tlie lady smiled as she held out a shandy white haml. and said in a rich, southern voice—" Good roomin'?, ,Mr Miniver. T did not mm ret to meet you here. How is your uncle this morning?” Mr Miniver could not choose hut take the hand. Ho bowed, and murmured something and then as the ladv took her seat he caught up a newspaper which a former guest had left behind, and. cropping it against the hot-water jug, began studying it with great attention. The lady bent an amused, contemptuous alamo unou him, and onieflv went on with her breakfast, perfectly conscious of the fact that the eyes of half the men in the room were turned evory now and then in her direction. The Signora, Trebelli wa.s, in truth, a singularly beautiful woman. Her charms wore in tho very zenith of their bloom. She had a magnificent figure, a lovelv complexion, and a pair of large, dark eyes that would of themsdveo have redeemed the plainest face from obscurity.

But Mr Miniver was blind to these things. ITis eyes were glued to tlie paper. He scarcely darn'd to turn aside his head to eat or drink lest the woman opposite should address him. He had cause lo remember her. Had she not all but succeeded in marrying bis uncle. Silas Miniver the millionaire, and robbing him of his future inheritance? Had she not stood lier ground in spite of all the relatives, and a large section of the English society of Mamies, so that the old gentleman hard escaped but by the skin of his teeth ? Was she not, in a word, the cleverest, the most dangerous, the most unscrupulous of adventuresses? Mr Miniver thought he did well to keep bis eyes fixed on tho newspaper, save for a haste planco now and then at plate or coffee-cup. "How is your uncle to-day, Mr Alfred ?” said the lady, with a quite unwarranted familiarity. "Er—-my uncle, that is, Mr Silas Miniver. is—is very well at present. T believe -—that is for a man of his veers.” She laughed. "Oh, indeed? For a man of his years? I must remember to tell him tlie,t.” So she knew. She knew that Mr Miniver, senior, was at that momentlying upstairs somewhere, feeble and querulous, as rich, lonely old men are used t.o he. Perhaps she had heard of bis enfeebled state, and had come to England with no other intention than to regain her old influence over him. Perhaps he had summoned her to his bedside. Possibly he intended, even at that eleventh hour, to make a codicil in lier favour. She might even contrive to make him. marry her! At tho thought Mr Miniver’s brow been mo moist, and he wiped it furtively with his pocket handkerchief. .Starting up, he bowed politely to the lady, ancL, turning sharply round, was in time to see a pronounced grin on the face of the waiter before it relapsed into its wonted expression of wooden negation. A minute later he knocked at liis uncle’s door. A nurse admitted him, and as he approached the bed the sick man put forth a skinny, olaw-like hand to welcome him. ‘Tin no better, Alfred.” he said, in a thin, wavering tone. I thought if I came up to town the change might do me good, hut it hasn’t. ' And the doctors don’t do me any good either. The London. doctors are just as big fools as the country ones. Send the woman out of the room,” he added, iu a lower tone. “I have something to say to you.” Alfred Miniver asked the nurse to retire. which she did, he thought, \uiwillingly. and returned to the bedside. “I want you to get me some medicine. Alfred, from a pla.ee in the city, where I know it is to be had. It is rather an out-of-the-way drug, but it is the only thing that gives me any relief. Here is the prescription.” He pulled a scrap of paper from under his pillow, and handed it to his nephew. ‘‘‘'Of course, I shall be happy to go, my dear uncle,” said Mr Alfred Miniver, secretlv delighted at this mark of favour. "I will go at once.’’ And so he did. Ho thought the chemist gave him a,n odd look when, having read the prescrip-

t-ion. he asked him to sign his name in a big book. Then it seemed as if the prescription took a long time to prepare. But the medicine wa.s handed over at last, and Mr Miniver left the. shop. Just as his hansom started he bent forward suddenly and gazed intently at a lady who was looking in at a shop window. She reminded him of the signora. But her back was now turned to him. and before he could get out his glasses he had been carried out of range. •. “Thank you, my boy,” said the old man, when Alfred gave him the medicine. “Now, measure me out twenty drops—no, thiity. And fill up the glass with water——No, you keep it,” he added, as his nephew was about to lay the phia.l down among tho other bottles. “You keep it. and give me a dose now and then when I need it. I don’t want it to fall into that woman’s hands.” So confused was Alfred by these unwonted confidences that he scarcely felt sure whether "that woman” was, the nurse or the Italian lady. He very much wanted to asle his uncle whether he had seen her. or whether he meant to do so, but recognised that there: might be a danger in putting such a.query lie refrained. When the nurse came in a few minutes later she found' hey patient apparently asleep, and she judged it a good opportunity to go and get some luncheon. She had not been gone half an hour when the signora tapped at the door of the sick man’s chamber. Receiving no response, she gently' turned the handle and entered. Then, summoning!,her most enraging smile she glided' towards the bed.

But no sooner did she catch sight of the figure lying there than her smile faded, her gliding walk stopped short, movement ceased, and she started like one frightened. Slowly she approached the. lied, and lifted cue of Mr Miniver’s bands. It dropped from her hAd and ■MI like load upon tho counterpane. There wa.s no heartbeat, 11 0 nulse, no breath. And from those bloodless lips there issued a heavy, peculiar odour. "Head! He is dead! I am too late!” muttered the ladv. pressing her hand to her forehead. Then she looked around with a sliap, inquisitive glance. A despatch box stood ait a little distance, and she guessed that the' money which Mr Miniver wa.s to give her in lieu of the legacy she had expected was in that box. Her instinct led her to a drawer in the lookiug-edaps. where she found the key of the de-paJch-hov. In the box was a. roll of bank-notes.- The signora pulled fhroe or four off the roll and thrust them hack into the despatch-box, which she locked. Then she replaced the key, and stuffed the remainder of the notes into her pocket. Scarcely had she done this, when the door opened, and Mr Alfred 1 Miniver’s head was thrust between door and doorpast. The signora had a wild desire to rush upon him and try whether she could decapitate him by swftly closing the door, but Hie stood perfectly still. '‘Madame! You here!” exclaimed the younv man, in a stage whisper. "I do not wish to wake my uncle, who, I see, is a,sleen but really you must leave the room this instant. My uncle is not in a condition to receive visitors.” The lady said nothing, but stood' her ground. Sim won thinking what she should do. Mr Alfred Miniver saw that strong measures would he necessary. "Uncle Silas.” he said raising his voice and advancing to the bed, “is it your wish that this lady should retire cm not?” There was no answer, and he repeated the questiton. Still receiving no reply, he peered into his uncle’s face, and saw how matters stood. "You have killed him, you—you murderess!” he shrieked, laying hold. in tlie sudden horror of the moment, of the signora’s dress. The lady began to .move towards the door, saving at the same- time—" You are mad! Leave hold of my dress!” "I will not. I believe that you have frightened my poor uncle to death! At any rate, you shall answer for your presence here. You do not leave this room till tlie police have arrived.” He turned and made for the door, hut the lady was too quick for him. She reached the door first, locked it, aud; put the key in her pocket- Before Mr Miniver could get 'over his surprise, the lady had reviewed the situation, .and had decided on her course of action. "You are a clever man, Mr Alfred Miniver—cleverer than I took you for, but this bravado will not do. You know that I have nothing to do with your uncle’s death. He was dead when I entered the room, a few seconds before you did. But I know how lie died, and so do yon I”

'‘l? I give you my word I don’t know what you mean !” "Indeed! Do you think I don’t know the smell of the drug? Do you think tlie doctor, who will he here in five minutes, won’t-know it? Do you think I don’t know that it is one of the strongest poisons in existence ?” As she spoke the next words her voice sank, and her swan-like neck stretched out so that her face approached near to that of tlie pallid man listening to lier. "Was it that you were buying in the druggist’s shop in tlie city this morning?”

In a moment the unhappy man had realised the truth. Whether by accident or by design his uncle had died from the effects of a poison which he, Alfred Miniver, had administered in the nurse’s absence and without her knowledge. His knees shook. The dock and the gallows seemed near at hand. But h e resolved to fight the matter out. “My uncle himself asked me to buy the medicine,” lie said, loftily. “I can bear witness to that effect at the proper time. Meanwhile, it is ray duty to call the attention of the hotel people to what has

happened. If you do n>ot open the door immediately yon will oblige me to throw open the window and shout far. tho police.” For a moment the heart of the adventuress quaked. If the police were summoned while ,slie was yet in the room she might he arrested. She would then be searched, and how was she to explain the presence of the bank-notes in her pocket? True, Mr Miniver, had asked lier to come to pay him a farewell visit, saying at the same time that lio would make lier a present of money in lieu of a legacy. But she had not thought of preserving the note. llow was she to prove her story? Yet never for a moment did her nerve fail her. Her quick eyes roamed here and there, as though seeking for a way out of tlie difficulty. "You can do as yon please,” slw said, coldly. "I am going to my room, and my evidence will be at the disposal of tlie police when it is wanted.” Sine began to walk to tlie door. Mr Miniver following her in some uncertainty a,s to what ho should do next, when she suddenly stopped, wheeled round, and fixed her flashing eyes on the unfortunate Mr Miniver. "What did you do with the phial? I seo it is not here!” Then, seeing the look of horror breaking into his face, she realised she had won. "You have it upstairs. If the police were to search your room they would find it there now!” Ho was silent. '“You must acknowledge that whether you intended to cause your uncle’s death or not, you certainly have caused it,” said tire signora. "You'must see that you are in great peril. As for me, I must summon the manager of the hotel. It is my duty. I dare not do otherwise. You had better go to your room. All I say now is that I will not tell the police at present all I know. I must take times to consider. If you can convince me of your innocence—but we can speck of that later. Go to your room, and if you leave the hotel, of course T must tell the police all I know at once. She gave him the key of the door and waved him away. He opened the door of that terrible woman, and slunk up to his room. He wanted time to think, he told himself. In reality he meant to destroy the phial, and lie wanted to get away from lire presence The signora went calmly downstairs, meeting tho nurse coming up. Leaving her to make the discovery that her patient was dead, the lady turned round, ascended to the floor above that which she had just left, and waited. She calculated that wh/ear Alfred Miniver had destroyed the tell-tale phial and -had had time to consider the matter, lie would think it liis best (plan to show himself and answer any inquiries that might be made. Nor was she wrong in her forecast. She had not waited a quarter of an hour when a. door was stealthily opened, and a white face peered out of it. Tho Signora Trebelli flew along the corridor. Ho retreated before her, and she followed him into the room.

"Are you mad?” she said, in a voice that shook with excitement. “1 have been waiting here to warn you that if you go down you will be arrested' at once. I must try to smuggle you out of the building by-and-bye.” "But nobody knows I am here,” protested Mr Miniver. "I arrived by a late train last night, and I have signed no register.* I am not known here at all. There is nothing to hinder me from walking away at any moment.” "Have you made up your mind,, then, whether you will mention the purchase of the poison at the inquest? No? Then I should say that, if no one knows you here, you had better not show yourself till that point lias been settled in your own mind. By the way, what have you done with tlie poison phial? You have not been idiot enough to throw it out of the window for some clever detective to pick up?” "No, I haven’t thrown it out of the window,” he said sullenly. "What have you done with it then?” Her eyes ranged through the small apartment in search of a possible hiding place. "You have dropped it behind the grate!” she exclaimed suddenly, clapping her hands. A look at Mr Miniver’s face told her that her guess was a correct one. “Not .a bad place, so' long as no one snsipects that anything is hidden in the room,” said the lady in slow, deliberate tones; "but a very bad place if it should be known that you have occupied this room, for you can’t get it out again.” The smile with which the signora, said this made the young man’s blood ran cold. She meant him to understand that he was in her power. And so,-unfortu-nately, ho was. The druggist could prove the purchase of the poison; the nurse would swear that it had been administered without lier knowledge; and when the pliial containing the poison, or the fragments of it, were discovered behind the register stove in his bed-room, ’and ; when, finally, it was proved that he | would inherit the hulk of liis uncle’s ! wealth, the chain of evidence would lie complete. And it was impossible to fish up the phial again. It would be lieces- j sary to pull down the grate before it i could he reached. The wretched man i sat down on the bed, covered his face i with his hands, and groaned aloud. "Never-r-r mind, my dear Alfred,” said the soothing voice of the signora. "I have no ill-will towards you—very much the reverse. As for the past—it is gone. It is forgotten. Trust in me, and all will be well- You stay here and pretend to be ill. Go to bed, and make them bring up up some tea. That will account for your not hearing of your uncle’s death to-day, and will give us time to arrange our j plan of defence, will it not? To-morrow 1 we will settle what is best to ione,

and I give you my word of honour that I will say nothing to the police—to-day.” With a malicious accent on the last word, the signora withdrew, leaving Mr Miniver a prey to the gloomiest apprehensions. He was sick with anxiety and foreboding, and lie thought that on tha i whole the best and safest thing to do was ' to take the Italian, woman’s advice. • Next morning he rose late, dressed, and I fell to pacing his room in a state of I miserable dread and perplexity. He did i not dare to go down to get something l to eat. lest some chance visitor should | 'recognise him as the nephew of the man. j who had died in tlie hotel tlie day before j ~nay, it was certain that several rela--1 lives would ho in the hotel by this time, and it was. more than probable that one j of them would meet him if lie had left j liis room. Yet ho could mot stay in ,• hj s room an indefinite time. Surely the ! " ] ? nora would ho able to suggest somei tiling. She could uot have forgotten him, or nor promise of assistance. She had not. Shortly after eleven she tapped at the door of Mr Miniver’s room, and lie at; once admitted her. '‘There is to be what is called an inquest,” she burst out, falling into the nearest chair. "I am afraid that all must be told, and what will become of you. my poor friend, I tremble to think!” Mr Miniver moistened liis dry lips, and said nothing. *‘lf I am summoned I must appear, for if I were to try to run away I would be apprehended—that is what they tell • me. And if I give evidence I must tell the truth. I dare not take a false oath. And when they come to know about your going to the chemist's-—where you wrote your name in tho hook, did you not?and about the poison phial over there behind the grate, what will they think? W'hafc will they do to you, my poor Alfred?” “Signora, I beg you to go. Leave mo. Leave me to my fate. I daresay you i mean well, but I won’t follow your advice any more, for it hasn’t turned out very well. I shall give myself up to the police, and tell all I know.” He had liis hand on tlie liande of tho door. The signora sprang at him, and tore it away. "Are you mad?” she exclaimed. “Don’t you see that although that course might have, answered yesterday you cannot fol- ' l°w it to-day? It would be ruin—abso- | lute ruin! Who would believe that you have been ill ? What doctor have .you • sent for ? Everybody will know that you j have' been simply in hiding. And now, when the danger is at its greatest, you j will rush out and throw yourself into'its I arms. Ohi, what madness!” i "But what cam I do?” groaned the i wretched man. learning in a helpless liian- } uer against the door post. i "Well, I have thought of a plan. If j you adopt it, it will mean perfect safety ' for you. Alfred, since yesterday I have : not been idle. I have taken tlie advice j of an English lawyer. Oil,l was cautions; | you need not start. He told me that in this country it is impossible for a wife to give evidence against lier own husi band. There is but one way out of this awful difficulty. Alfred we must marry !” '“Marry you! I would rather ■” He I stopped short. j '‘Am I, then, so hideous. Alfred?” said the lady softly, but with, a gleam in her eyes that suggested that possibly Mr Miniver might be made to pay hereafter , for his unfinished rein arm i "No, not at all. You know that 3-011 are yery beautiful. But I do not wish to marry. _ I shall never marry. I mad© up my mind to it —years ago.’’ "You will have to inako it up over again, then, my dear Alfred, or else you go to the scaffold. You forget that I can send you to prison at anv moment-, and you know what the end of that must be.*' A ghastly whiteness appeared on til© victim’s face. For the first time he re* aiised that lie was in this woman's power, and that he was* practically .forced to do her bidding. “But there isn’t —there isn’t time,” he said, lamely. “People can’t be married in a moment like that.” “I asked the lawyer about that 100, thinking ifc might he as well to know, and he told me exactly what has to he clone. I can got the license and arrange with the clergyman at once, if you prefer to marry me rather than go to prison.” There may be some men who would prefer to meet a charge cf murder, there being apparently overwhelming evidence of guilt, rather than marry a beautiful woman of questionable antecedents and doubtful veracity. If so. Mr Alfred Dunn Miniver was hoc one of them. In a few minutes he gave liis consent, and the preliminaries were settled. The signora was to get the license and arrange tor the services of a clergyman; and in the meantime Mr Miniver was to go hack to bed and ring for a cup of tea and a hit of toast, invalid fashion, lie was to have liis portmanteau packed and his bill paid, and the signora would come and help to smuggle him out of tire hotel at three o’clock. After the ceremony they would go and stay quietly at another hotel, until it was time to start for the night mail to Paris. "No doubt a warrant for my arrest to give evidence will be issued this afternoon, but they will not catch us,” said the lady as she took her leave. "Tomorrow we shall he far beyond their reaci».” Tlie programme was faithfully carried out. At four that afternoon, Signora Trebelli was made Mrs Alfred Miniver; and the newly-married pair went to the Charing Cross Hotel, where they dined. Dinner being over, the bride went to see about the luggage and the tickets, as it was not considered safe for Mr Miniver to show himself more than was absolutely necessary.

A few minutes later Kr Miniver, clad in a long ulster and round felt hat, was Ivin rying along one of tiie liotel passages, when he suddenly came face to face wit a man who, like himself, was dressed, for tlie road. . 0 “Wtiy, Miniver, ia this you. man? Why are you in such a hurry? And where are T ou going? Haven t you heard that j our uncle died yesterday?” _ To all this Miniver made no reply. He could onlv stand and gasp Jncir Jack Wheeler 1” , ~ "That's me. But what s the matter with you*” i t -i "Oh, Jack, I am the most wretched man alive! Sometimes I cfix v think 1 have lost my wits!” "No great find for anybody that picks 'em up,” said Mr Wheeler, with a grin, but Miniver was in no mood either to laugh at or to resent the plesantr'y. “"C-cma in here and tell me all about it,” sai'd Wheeler, opening the door of his room. , . More for the sake of relieving Ins overburdened mind than for any other reason, Miniver told liis friend all til ax -had happened. "IS-at my dear rellow, what nonsense are you talking? Your uncle died Ox long-standing heart disease at least, so the papers said. They mentioned the name of his doctor, though I forget it. And certainly there lias been no inquest, or I must have heard of it. That odious little cousin of yours, Morris Miniver, was tellng me what a good thing it would be for him, and wondering what had-be-come of you.* 9 There was a long pause. _ "Wheeler,” said 'Mr Miniver, with solemnity in his manner, that vcm an has married me under false presences. "j am afraid there's no possible doubt of that,” said Mr Wheeler. * » * * ®

Mr Miniver joined his bride on the platform a few minutes later, and handed her into an empty compartmenpt. he then strolled away in the direction of the bool:stall, and presently returning, entered the carriage and threw himself into the corner furthest from the window. Then, turning half-round, he kept his face averted from tlio platform till the tram started. , , „ , When the carriage girded from under the great glass roof, he took a newspaper from his pocket and held it up before him.

"Alfred!” said a soft voice near him. He took no notice. "Alfred!” (in a louder voice). Silence. "Alfred, do you mean to insult mo?” A low growl that resembled the noise of some haif—savage animal was the reply. ■ "If you behave like a brute, you shall be treated like a brute,” said the lady, and she withdrew to the other end of the carriage. Half-way to Dover her husband pulled his hat over his eyes and went to sleep. At Dover the lady spoke to him sharply. He awoke, looked about him, glanced at ih-e lady and smiled. A shriek from the signora brought the realty guard to the door of the carriage. "What is it, madam ? Anything wrong?” "That man—he is not ray husband! "My dear madam, it is an honour I never aspired to,” said the stranger. "Ha,s the gentleman - been annoying - you in any way?” asked the guard. "Ha pretended all this time that he was my husband —I thought he was. I was quite taken in by him. My husband must have been left behind/ "Do you want to make auy charge against the gentleman?” repeated the guard in less bland tones than before. "I? No. That is, he didn't do anything. or say anything - , hut he made mo believe—*—” "All right, mum. Best, perhaps, speak about it to the captain en hoard the boat,” said the guard, slamming the d.nnr "Are you going to tell me where my husband is?” demanded the ladiy, coining close to the stranger, and assuming a very threatening air. "My dear madam, you must'-nrst tell nre who is your husband,” said Mr Wheeler, gently. The lady said no more, but returned to liondon by the next train in search of her husband. She is still looking for him. Mr Miniver, acting under Mr Wheeler's directions, crossed to Havre by another route that night, and then commenced a long tour of observation round the world in company with his friend Wheeler. As a matter of precaution he travels under tlie name of Smith, and by the help of Mr Silas Miniver’s money and his friend's society he contrives to forget the fact! that he is in in some sense, at all events, a family man.

Tlio Cobdon Club is frequently mentioned in the cable news nowadays, in connection with Mr Chamberlain's proposals for preferential trade. Of course,, the Cobden Club combats the new proposals with tooth and nail. It recently arranged a so-called “conference” of trades unions at Manchester, at which only one side —that against Mr Chamberlain’s proposals—was allowed to ventilate its views. The English newspaper the “People” lias paid some Ht tent ion t-o the composition of the Cobden Club, and from a copy of that journal by the last mail wc learn that out of a total membership of 475, no fewer than 242, or more than half, are foreigners. “One can readily imagine.” says tha “People,” “that these gentlemen would have the interests of the British working man thoroughly at heart” A few of tho names may bo quoted as samples:—Chevalier Scherzer, A. de Beaulieu Lo Hardy, Eugene D’Eighthal, Senor Echegarav, A. de Fcutpertuis. A. J. de Johann is, Pescheki Keedsa, Gaetano Taeconi. Mr J. C. Salter has been appointed assistant secretary to the firm of John Duthie and Co., Limited*