CHAPTER LII.

Otago Witness, Volume 17, Issue 1020, 17 June 1871, Page 18

CHAPTER LII.

" 0 miser.is honiinum incntes, 0 pectorn crera !" sayeth Lucretius. "Otten, when we seek the right, do we stumble on the wrong ; and, contrariwise, as we grasp the wronjr, we per-adventurc only happen upon the right."— Similitudes by John Pnwlet, p. 29.

By what an admirable law of Nature it is that we associate ourselves with success, and congratulate ourselves upon it, even when another has achieved it ; and disassociate ourselves from defeat in the quickest and most satisfactory manner !

" Ah," said Inspector Stevenson, looking at the defeated Brown John. "Your case has broken down, Mr. Samuel. That horse won't run."

" Been scratched long ago, towiy mind," returned the person addressed. " And no wonder. There are always two ends to a long pole, and I got hold of the wrong one. That's all."

""¥ou did what you had to do, very well indeed," said Tom Forster, who did not feel any triumph at the humiliation of his rival ; " and no man could do more."

"Thank you, sir — proud I'm sure," said the police sergeant, taking the

proffered hand, and shaking it. For Brownjohn, like a good honest fellow, generously admired his rival ; and having lost the race, put up with the loss, and felt no deep regret. He had done his best — that was all he could do. "I hope," he continued, "that your system will turn out better than mine. I don't do any fancy work. I look for !my clue, and I hold on to it. I get to where it leads me — and it is nowhere. Now, with you it may be otherwise. "Xou have a way with you that will — " " Lead to nothing too, very probably," said the old man. "If murderers were men of talent instead of being the stupidest fools on earth, if crime were wisdom instead of folly, why, they would baffle us utterly. And there is something in this that we have not got to the bottom of, by any means." "No?" asked Brownjohn, willing to be instructed, and half asking a question. " I have felt so, at any rate/ returned Old Daylight ; "and I feel so more than ever to-day. Why, bless you, none of us are sure of a criminal, even if caught red-handed, till he oonf esses his crime." As he said these words, Mr. Inspector Stevenson, who had gone into another room, after whispering to the magistrate, opened the door, and produced Ce'aar Negretti and his little companion, Patsy Quelch. Patsy seemed to have grown an inch taller. There was a gleam of triumph in his Hue Irish eye— a quick, sharp, wakeful look, and a bold bearing about the boy, as if his hour had come. Cesar, on the other hand, had loßt all his variable lightness and agility, and seemed to have collapsed. The prospect even of a couple of months' imprisonment had a terrible significance to the Maltese. Let him but once get into the hands of the police, and when should he escape? Such were bis thoughts. He had a natural horror of all guardians of the laws, as may have been observed in others who choose to break through them. " Who are these, Mr. Inspector?" asked the magistrate. • " Please, your worship," answered that officer, " we thought at first that it was something very small. Only a larcency case — spoon-stealing from a coffee-house." "It is that !" interjected Patsy, in a quick, shrill whisper, which thrilled through the room, and made Cesar Btart nervously. " Miserable pig !" muttered the Italian, between his teeth. " Wretch — Irish — misbegotten one, had it not been for thee— " Patsy'B triumphant look silenced him, and Patsy himself was frowned into quietude by the Inspector. But he — with that curious patience often exhibited by persons who love revenge — could wait. The objurgations of the Maltese, whispered or shputed, fell like .peas upon sheet iron, and Jeft no mark nor hurt. Mr. Horton, by a courteous gesture, invited Mr. Tom Forster to the table in this preliminary investigation, and the bundle of the Maltese was silently examined. Mr. Cesar Negretti was one of those individuals— not uncommonly met with— who are not by any means deterred nor confounded by the wickedness of a deed, but who are appalled by detection Standing first on one leg and then on the other, his miserable body screwed up into as small a space as it could well occupy, he had lost all his gracefulness, and looked as contemptible an object as one well could conceive. The perpetration of crime, or the indulgence in low passions, is not conducive to good and noble looks ; and a gallery of criminals may well be called a " Chamber of Horrors." The bright olive complexion of the Maltese assumed a green- yellowish hue ; his eyes had lost their brightness and their sparkling vivacity. His fisherman's scarlet cap he had pulled off, and it hung dangling from his hand ; while limp ringlets of his black hair straggled over his face, which was covered with perspiration. Once or twice he tried to assume an indifferent air, and even a sickly smile ; but in those moments — to the eyes of Patsy, which were fixed on him — he looked somewhat more contemptible than before. A3 for Mr. Tom Forster, he was taken by surprise. The spoons were of 'silver, and bore a half worn-out crest, which he at once recognized as the same as those bore which he had found at Acacia Villa. They did not carry the English, but the French, Hall-mark, and were of foreign manufacture. Mr. Forster, who had had some experience in these matters — as re« lated in an early chapter of this history — pointed this out to Mr. Horton. But besides these evidences, there were some light kid gloves — soiled, indeed, and crumpled and worn, but not so dirty as those which such a person as Negretti would have worn, nor were they of the kind which he would have purchased. They must, therefore, have been stolen or given to him. • "' Some other knick-nacks, a letter or so

in French, one or two In an Italian patoia uaed in Malta, and some letters in English, made up the other contents of the bundle ; with the exception of a shirt of fine texture, and a black kerseymere waistcoat. The magistrate examined these, and then spoke — " These are not all: your clothes ?" » Yes — yes, signor ; most honourable sir, yes," replied the Maltese, partly in Italian, with painful eagerness. Then he added, with a sigh of some satisfaction — " With the exception of those I have now got on. " " Yer lie !" muttered Patsy to himself ; but he did not speak aloud this time. "But what have you done with the others, my poor lad V asked the magistrate, in a tone of kindly pity— grieved, as he always was, at the guilt of others, especially of the young. « I I changed them for these where I went with Mr. Brown John." He looked pleadingly towards that stolid officer. " He did bo," said the police sergeant," accenting the last word. "JELe had a notion, I think, your worahip, of getting beyond seaß ; but I kept my eye upon him, and he dressed himself up- in this nautical way at a slop shop." j Here Mr. Tom Forster, bending respectfully down, whispered something in the magistrate's ear. Mr. Horton nodded, and said — " But a young fellow like you must I havo Borne other property. Where did j you leave your trunk or chest ?" "I have none. I have sold it. " Mr. Hoiton looked puzzled and displeaded ; and Patsy fidgeted, and held up his hand as a schoolboy at a Sunday school does, when he feels, rightly or wrongly, that he can answer a question. "Uinph!" ejaculated the Inspector, noticing it ; " the boy wants to speak, your worship." " Let him speak up," said Mr. Horton, glancing in a kind and encouraging way upon the small boy. Hereon Patsy spoke. "Please, he has been and left a box at the cafe in Rupert-street. I know it, and I seed it. The padrone, as we call the master, will show it." "Very good," returned the magistrate. "Do you know where that place is Sergeant Browniohn I" "Yeß, sir/ "Take a cab, and go and search the box And now let us look to theße letterß. ;) The dates of the papers found in the parcel — during the reading of which Cesar Negretti turned visibly more pale, and exhibited more distress — extended over some six months. The first in order was a rough draft of a letter to Mr. Edgar Wade, barrister, of the Temple, in which the writer acquainted that gentleman that he knew something which wottld, if examined and acted upon, turn to his advantage. It was purposely worded in a wide and indefinite manner, and seemed to have elicited a careful answer from the barrister. This answer did not occur ; but there was another rough draft of a reply to the letter, in which the writer stated that, in overlooking some letters of his (the writer's) father — who was Gustave , formerly valet to Lord Chesterton — he had discovered the secret ef Edgar Wade's birth. A third letter — and the little bundle of MSS. had been caref ullyand consecutively arranged, and had been preserved as being of Borne value — was from Mr. Edgar Wade himself. He wished the informant would call upon him : such matters as he could communicate had better be Bpoken than written. He ap- \ pointed a certain evening, and wished ' that the writer of th« letters would bring i with him proofs of the authenticity of his information. j A fourth letter — again from Edgar Wade — complained that the appointment j had not been kept, and asked — evidently/ in answer to Borne hints upon the subject < of remuneration — what amount of money would be demanded, presuming the information supplied should turn out to be of | use in placing the writer^ Mr. Edgar Wade, in possession of his rights I j Mr. Horton looked significantly at Mr. Tom Forster as he read these letters. That gentleman fidgeted with his spectacles, examined the writing of his friend with coolness and minuteness, and was evidently troubled. The letters were quite genuine ; and as each succeeding one strengthened the revelations so unpleasant to Mr. Forster's feelings, so his examination became more slow and methodical. It would seem to have been Negretti's purpose to keep away as long as he could from a personal interview with the barrister. Some more brief notes of a letter next occurred, in which were found the names of Gustave, Madame Martin — with her address at Acacia Villa — and Lord Chesterton. Lord "Wimpole, in whose service the writer had been, was also mentioned ; and the secret to be confided was held up as of the greatest importance wad value.

There was no answer to this. Edgar Wade, it would appear, had sought out and found his informant ; and, from notes of conversations, a large sum of money seemed to have been asked, and to have been agreed upon, as a reward to be paid upon Edgar Wade making his claim perfect. There were instructions, evidently taken from the barrister's lips, as to getting papers in the possession of Lord Wimpole or Madame Martin. As Mr. Tom Forster read these, his heart sank within him. He turned pale, felt sick at heart, and sat down, polishing his eye-glasses with his bandanna pockethandkerchief. "This case assumes a very serious aspect/ Baid the magistrate, looking at him. " I am afraid, Mr. Forster, that your accumulation of proofs in regard to Lord Wimpole have misled us." "The proofs were all right, sir/r eturned Old Daylight, in a mild voice; " but I am afraid they have led us to the wrong person." " I see no reason why his lordship should not be released on his own recognizances," said the magistrate, making out an order to that effect, and directing it to Captain Ches man. "Perhaps Inspector Stevenson will see to this !" He handed the paper to Stevenson, who took it gloomily. " Here was a go," he said to himself ; " Old Daylight was actually breaking down 1 What next 1 When would xhe right party turn up ? " No," observed Old Forster, after a pause, " your worship was right in your unwillingness to make that arrest. There are yet more papers — possibly, in that man's box. Have you any more letters like or similar to these V Cesar's pale lips moved faintly with the reply of — " Si, signor." "Moßt of these notes are in your writing, I presume. We can prove that, even if you deny it. I want you to be cautious abciut what you say. It is evident that you know much about matters antecedent to the murder of this poor woman — " Again a low, hiasing sound of " Si, signor" a bowing down of the head, and a " piteous " — as old writers would say — extension of the hands and fingers, as if for mercy. "If not of the murder itself," continued the magistrate. Ccsai's head fell upon hia chest, and he said nothing. But the eyes of the silent, watchful little Irish boy gleamed an 4 sparkled with intelligence. " Have mercy, sir, upon me — spare me, good sir ! " gasped the Maltese. " Give me time. Let me consult my friends, and I will tell all." The words sounded more like the low whining of a beaten dog than the voice — once so clear, sharp, and resonant — of Cesar Negretti. " You shall have plenty of time, and every opportunity, 3*3 * said the magistrate. " We will see you properly taken care of, and go fully into the case to-morrow." Cesar and Patsy were therefore removed ; and, after some talk with Old. Daylight in regard to Mr. Edgar > Wade — for whose appearance Tom Foster himself undertook to answer, being supplied with the proper instrument for compelling his attendance — Mr. Horton left. Aa Forater passed Sergeant Brownjohn, that functionary said — " Well, I am as sorry as if it were ny own case. Yours seems to break down as well as miDe, although you were on the right track." " Ah ! my friend," said Old Daylight, with a sigh, "it was a race between us. One of Two, you know. And, as far as I see, I have the ri»ht evidence ; and you, although you did not intend it, have arrested the right man." He nodded in the direction in which Cesar Negretti had disappeared as he spoke. (To be continued.)