SHORT STORY.

Otago Witness, Issue 2379, 5 October 1899, Page 50

SHORT STORY.

BY MEREST CHANCE.

I. "A gentleman— a Mr Portman— to see you, sir," said my landlady, looking in at mv door. '" bhow him up. Mrs Jennings, I replied, without glancing up from my manuscript. A few moments later, Mr Portman, an entire stranger to me, was. ushered into my room. He came forward— a man of large build, scrae 40 years of age, with a slight sloop— and, fixing a pair of dreamy dark ejvs, upon me, he inquired, in a low, earnest tone : '" Mr Cecil Larra-ence, I believe : "Yes. Be seated a moment, will you?" I replied, indicating a chair. He accepted the offer silently, and waited my leisure, his eyes iixed upon the crackling legs in the grate, and his chin resting upon his hands. "What can Ido for you, Mr— Mr Portman?"' I asked presently, putting down my pen and turning round upon my visitor. " You are Mr Cecil Lawrence, the author, are you not?" he returned. "Yes." " The author of ' A Romance in Blue Dye ' ? " 'VYes."

" Do you mind telling me how you came by the plot for that story? " he said, his dreamy eyes lighting up for an instant.

The book he referred to was my latest venture. It was not a literary triumph by any means ; but it had attracted considerable attention, and obtained a great deal more praise than it merited. There was no hesitation about my recollecting how I came by the plot of the story. The whole story turned upon the mystery of how a certain man, a partner in a large firm of dyers, had got into a caldron df blue dye ; and the idea had occurred to me, while reading a newsp.iper paragraph mentioning how a man had been drowned in just such a manner, and under such circumstances. In fact, for my tragedy I had drawn fully upon the actual occurrence ; but, for the purpose of my story, I had made the traccdy a inurdei, while the actual fatality was pretty generally acknowledged to have been an accident.

" I'm afraid I cannot give you any information upon that matter," I replied. " Authors do not generally communicate Uieir methods of work and thought to HlmngerH, and my time is at present so much occupied that, unless you really have some important business with me, I t cully "" — — " l" have important business with j-ou ! ' le excl.'iinicd, almost angrily. "Do you f mi iey Ihfd I l)fi\e come down all the way hoiii I/iik hhliiiv to ask a mere slip of an i> ulh <1 1 lii'! method 1 * of work?"

" From Liiiieiitlni'c? ' 1 said in surprise. " Indeed no ; no wine man would. But jili-dnn t-lfiLe youi business.' 1 " Will you imswer my question ?" he iiicd. linnj,; impudently and folding his Jin nd j hrliniil Ins biiuk. " How did yon come by the f/irK m your story?"

" Since you attaoh such undue importance to the matter,' I replied coldly, "I can only say that I owe «>me of the plot of my 'Romance in Blue Dye 1 to a newspaper paragraph I chanced upon some 18 months v & 0 -" "Can you show me this paragr.ipa? " •Reallyj unless you can tell me in what

way this matter is of so much importance to you, I fear I must decline to continue this interview, for, as ,1 have already told you, I am exceedingly busy." He looked at me steadily for a moment in silence, and the light came into his eyes again. "My name is Porlman — John Portman, of Portman and Stayle, dyers and cleaners, Rochdale^' he said, in a peculiar tone i could not understand. "Do you understand? " " No. I may be very dense, but I don't understand in what way the statement of your identity proves the importance of your visit," I responded, becoming annoyed with him, his manners, and his tone. "You don't, eh?" he blurted out. "Well, Stayle, my late partner, was the man who was found in the vat of dye. You are a picturesque liar, you know ! " I started — not at the fellow's insult, but at the germ of an idea that was dawning upon me. This man, then, was the actual being whom I had created, as I thought, in the person of James Saxon, the murderer of his partner. I fully understood now how greatly this man, whose actual existence I had never suspected, must have been annoyed by my book ; for, doubtless, persons who had read it and knew of the manner in which my visitor's unfortunate partner had met his death, had commented upon the matter unpleasantly to my visitor. n. Here was a pretty position ior me ! Face to face with a man whom I had unconsciously worked into a novel in which I had made him a murderer! I began to smell a very' serious libel case — x splendid advertisement, truly," but a disastrously expensive one. "Do you understand me now?" my visitor demanded, seeing I Avas not prepared to say an.ytb.ing about his previous speech. "'Yes,, I fear so," I replied, with a sickly smile. " But if you have come here with the intention oi bullying me. you mads an error in the address.' My solicitors, Messrs Wright and Wright, Ely Place, are the people to call upon." He looked at me and frowned. Then he crowed the room, locked the door, and put the key in his pocket. "What the deuce do you mean?" I cried, srayfing up indignantly. " You are presuming unpardonably ! Replace the key and unlock the door ! " And 1 went over to him as I spoke. '" Gently, gently, my good sir," he said. " I am not nearly satisfied with our chat yet. Look at this, and sit down quietly." 'This,'' which he heir 1 in my face, 'was a revolver. Was lat the mercy of a madman? " ii r ou are at the wrong end of it, you know, so sit down and be civil." I shrugged my shoulders and returned to my clnir, having the unpleasant tensation that he was "covering" me all the time. When I had seated myself, he camf'ancl sat down at the other sid» of my table, laid his revolver in front of him, j.-.id began to bite his nails. I waited his pleasure silently, wondering what I could best do., "It's like this!" he said, so suddenly thai " he started me out of my thoughts. "I had a partner. That partner gets drowned at our works in a butt of purpie — not blue, mind you — dye. You see the bare facts mentioned in the papers and (this is what you say!) write a story about it. You make me, John Saxon of your accursed book, murder my partner, and v bring me to justice, eh?" " Yes, that's it," I replied, as easily -as I could. "I offer you my sincerest apologies for the unpleasantness it must have caused you; but I assure "you, on my honour, I never dreamt that you reallyexisted, or I should not have used such ai plot." " But you must have known ! You must have seen !" he cried, leaning over the table and hissing his words into my face. What would have happened if the meaning of his words had Hashed, instead of dawning slowly, upon me I-cannot think — I never Avjnt to know. But coming upon my worried brain slowly, the meaning did not make me start, and my visitor, avlio evidently realised he had spoken without thinking lioav he spoke, probably trusted I had missed his second sentence. To help him to that belief I answered : • " How could I have known*the unfortunate dyer had a partner. I realise my horrible mi.xtako now, of course. I oughl h-aci to haA'e Avritten the book without fir.it inquiring whethei my plot would encroach too much upon actual facts." * He did not seem to hear me. He was staring over my shoulder, deeji in thought, like a man who dreams his thoughts. " Bah !" he said suddenly, with great passion. " Hoav did you learn all you know, eh? You could not have guessed Avhat no one else had suspected !" Again my fears began tc grow thick upon me. Surely this mar would not repeat words which amounted to a confession of murder unless he knew he had no reason to fear his words could flow beyond ir.y .self? And lioav could he know this? The revolver on the table before him seemed to answer my mental question, and a qualm passed over me. Had I really, by the merest chance, ,soh'ed a mystery no one but this man before me knew the secret of? " I fear Ido not understand you, ' I s.-ul, with a smile. " You lie ! You knoAV you lie ! Do you think I have come here to be suckled on .such prevarications? Do you think T brought this with me for any reason but to get trom you an account of how you discovered the purple spot upon my shirt, how you saw how it happened, as you must have done, though you don't .say so in your accursed story? Can't you see, ingenious puppy, that 1 mean to know, and when I know to send you where you cannot run a man down by novel-writing, nor put the laAv upon him? It's your life or mine !" " With all youi threats," I said, " you're a big bit of a fool, Mr Portman, or else your mind is unhinged. The book was mainly written upon the merest conception of m\r owa A suggested to ma by a 3/hor£

paragraph. I have already told you that. The manner in which my murderer, John Saxon, Avas brought to justice for his crime Avas pure fiction work. Noav are you satisfied?" " No !" he replied, throwing himselr back in his chair. " What you say may be t ru<> r I don't knoAV. In any case, your story has put me under the suspicion of the police and. the people of Rochdale. I am a marked man, I don't doubt. Probably the police are hunting- me down noAv — now! But they Avon't rind the shirt!" " Probably you overrate the interest 'Ts<3 police and people of Rochdale take in my novels and the death of your partner," I said, Avith an effort at calmness not too easy to assume. '■' Possibly I do !" he replied, in a hoarse voice, with a fugitive glance at the door. "But there is you to reckon Avith hoav?" "Me?" " Yes, you ! Do you think if I knew I Avas as safe from suspicion as before your book Avas Avritten I could leave you after Avhat I've said to you to-night?" " What do you propose to do, then? Give yourself over to the police, eh?" I asked ironically, for I was weary >of the terrible nervous strain. " It is you or me, and, by my soul, I Avill seal your lips !" To my uttermost surprise he made a sudden dash round the table at me, but in the moment of his heightened passion he forgot his revolver. I thrust out my arm and snatched it from the table as I quickly dodged my assailant; and, stepping back, I held the barrel in his face. "Stand back, John Saxon, or I fire !" I cried. He staggered back and leaned against tho Avail. " Give me the key, John Saxon," I said sternly. With his wild eyes fixed upon the revol-A-er, he took the key from his pocket ancl threw it upon the table. I took it up and dreAV towards the door. As if he realised thiit the door would open only to let him pass out to the galloAvs, he made a desperate, sudden spring at me as, with mv left hand, I slipped the key intc the lock. " Stand back !" I cried, and pushed th'_' revolver into the holloAv of his ashy cheek. "Stop!" he ejaculated hoarsely, as Avith an impetuous gesture he pushed his lank hair oiS his moistened broAV with both his hands. " What are you going to do, old man ? A price, price, price ! A price — my life ■ I'll buy my life ! A vme ! ' He crept toAvards me, shaking his trembling arms above his head. Suddenly he stopped, and his eyes started from their sockets. He threAv his chin forward as i* tiying to sAvallow some lump rising in his throat. Then, as I sprang to him, he twisted on his heel and fell in c heap u2>oe the floor. A price! Nemesis had refused bis price for life.