A REMORSELESS ACCUSER

New Zealand Times, Volume XXXVIII, Issue 8680, 13 March 1914, Page 8

A REMORSELESS ACCUSER

[Published bv Special Aehangemext.] [All Rights Reserved.]

By EDGAR PICKERING. Author of “ Dick Beresford’s Wife,” “Was She Guilty?”- etc., etc.

CHAPTER XLllL—Continued

Janet grumblingly consented to her mistress finishing her labours upon the embroidery, and although the work fatigued Alary, it was completed in the evening. The last cress was finished, the last initial worked, and with a sigh of relief she put it aside. Janet would pack the parcel, and to-morrow rake it with her to London. “I’m curious to see the young lady it is for,” she said. “But I don’t liko leaving you. Something might happen.” “I am better now, Janet,” Mary replied. “What could happen, do you think?” “I’ll come back as soon as I can," answered Janet. “And this will be the very last time yen’ll have to work for money. I know it will.” •She spoke so confidently that Mary looked at her in surprise, hut without asking the reason of the remark. Janet was prone to throw out mysterious hints and strange foretellings. This was one of them, and a smile crept over Mary’s face as she watched her faithful old friend tying up the parcel of work. She remarked the lighthearted manner which Janet displayed, for ever and again a laugh came into her rugged features. There was real happiness that evening in the little cottage—the happiness that comes ot hope and expectation. .Nest day Janet started for London, taking the ’ parcel of work with her, and after some little difficulty in finding her way thither, she arrived at her destination. IVCss Montmorency had forgotten her meeting with Janet, and the request she had made that the embroidered things should be brought to her house; so many events had distracted her thoughts since then that she could not recall to mind the circumstance. Tin?, servant had simply announced that a person had called and wished to see her. “What sort of person?” asked Miss Montmorency. “An elderly woman, miss,” replied tho servant. “She says you told her to come here.” “Did you ask what she wanted?” “She wanted to see you, miss.” “Then, I suppose you . had better show her up,” replied Miss Montmorency. “It’s rather tiresome to have elderly women calling on one. when one doesn’t want 1 to he bothered by seeing anybody.” She stood waiting for her visitor, who entered the room, carrying a parcel. ‘ Oh, now I remember!” she exclaimed. “YouVe brought the work that has been embroidered. I had really quite forgotten.” Jangt Deeds had put the parcel down find was regarding Miss Montmorency attentively. “Maybe you’d like to see the things,” she said. “It’s the rest of the work my mistress has done. You asked me to bring it here.” “Of course I did. Yes, undo the parcel, for I’m dying to see the work, and I haven’t a moment to spare.” Janet gave a glance round the comfortably furnished room, and then began untying the parcel, Miss Montmorency leaning over the table watching her. “This is the last of the embroidery my mistress has done,” said Janet, taking the various articles and spreading them out for inspection. “I hope you’ll be pleased with them, miss.” “It’s simply beautiful. Pleased with it indeed I Why, I’ve never seen anything don© half so well, and you will tell, her so.”

“I will, miss,” replied Janet. “For my mistress took great pains with the work, as it is for a wedding.” Miss Montmorency smiled pleasantly “And one likes to have everything well done at such times,” she answered. Janet’s hard face relaxed as she listened, and she gave Miss Montmorency a kindly look. “If you won’t think I’m taking a liberty, miss,” she said, “I’d like to wish the bride every happiness and a long life.” “That’s very kind of you, and there’s no reason why' she should not be as happy as any bride ever was,” replied the other. “Her husband that is to he is a rich man, and devotedly attached to her.” Janet eyed Miss Montmorency with increased interest, for the words seemed strange for a bride to speak of her future husband. ' “And where might your wedding take place, miss?” she asked. “My wedding!” exclaimed Miss Montmorency. “You don’t think these things are for me, do you?” “I thought you were the young lady who was going to be married.” M iss Montmorency burst into a ringing laugh. “I may be some day, but I don’t know when it will be. Anyway, I’m- not going to he married in a fesv days, and the lady these things are for is, you see.” “I beg your pardon for my mistake, miss.” ‘lt was a natural one. The lady who is going to me married is my

friend, Miss Sybil Montagu. The announcement was in the Tdorning Post.’ She is to marry Sir Esmond Wilmot.”

With a cry, as of sudden pain, Janet had staggered hack, her face distorted and colourless; for a moment she seemed dazed. “Say that again,” she exclaimed at length. “Let mo hear it plainly, so that I mayn’t he mistaken.” “Good gracious!” cried Miss Montmorency. “Whatever is the matter with you? I tcll_ you my friend is going to marry Sir Esmond Wilmot. Why' should you be astonished at that?” “Xo, no,” replied Janet, bitterly. “Of course, you don’t see. How could you understand ? He is going to be married, you say? Whoa?” “In a few days from now.” “Where?” “Li the parish church of Mahlothorpe,” was the answer. “Although really, I don’t know why I should toll you these particulars, my good woman.” “How could you know?” repeated Janet, with a soh. “Why should you or others care?” “I should like to know why you are so upset by what I said,” replied Miss Montmorency. “Because it’s a very strange thing for you to act like this.” Janet had recovered her usUal harsh manner by this time, and although her face was deadly pale, she showed no further emotion. “I hope -I’ve said' nothing to offend you, miss,” she answered, in a dry, hard voice. ‘,‘You’rc not to he blamed, neither is 1 . Miss Montagu.” “You really are the. most extraordinary person I’ve ever spoken to,” retorted Miss Montmorency. “But jjou’vc ■ said nothing to offend one. You seem surprised at what I have told you,”. It was as if Janet did not hear; as if her eyes saw nothing, although her gaze was fixed. “Ho is to he manned,” she repeated slowly, *“soon. In a few days.” But the words were, an though Janet spoke tlo herself, and Miss Montmorency stared at her stango visitor. Then , Janet was in the street again, remembering vaguely that Miss Montmorency had spoken, kindly to her at parting. She had offered Janet- a glass of wine, hut it had been refused. “Xo, she was well enough,” had been her answer to Miss Montmorency. “She had been surprised,” and Janet had given a strange laugh as she spoke. There was an; intense longing to got back to the open air. She would be able to think then—to think ■ of that wedding which was to take place in a few days, and now she was going blindly along the street. “In a few days Wilmot was going to be married to a Miss Montagu—in a few days.” The sentences seemed repeating themselves again and again, always with a clearness that cut like a knife edge. So it was all at an end, the confident hope she had held solong, it was no use now to hope, bo-' cause Sir Esmond Wilmot was going to ho married—married in a few- days —to a Miss Montagu. Yes, that was the name which had been told her.

And a wonderful calmness came to Janet The calmness as though her heart were dead., Only her heart, for tho rest of her being was alert and her braiii busy' with a madness of purpose which confused her, whilst it stilled her tongue and memory. Back once more in the little cottage in Millhurst hearing .Mary’s voice again,' asking the same question that Miss Montmorency had asked. Giving the same answer to it, and heeding nothing except that purpose in her brain. There was no caressing of the little one ; no anxious inquiry after her mistress; no mirth nor life in her ashen face. What mattered anything to her now? And alone that night, sitting -motionless at the table, Janet’s Jeyes were intent upon something which she had taken from a little . pocket book—a frayed handbill, whereon in big letters was tho word “Murder!” the handbill offering a reward for the discovery ,of Sir George Wilmot’s murderer! (To be continued.)