CHAPTER IX.—THE REVELATIONS OF "MR GEORGE WITHERS."

Otago Witness, Issue 2409, 3 May 1900, Page 58

CHAPTER IX.— THE REVELATIONS OF "MR GEORGE WITHERS."

Miss Adair was a t tall, commandinglyfouilt young woman, with about her more than a suggestion of muscularity. I had recognised her at once. On the stage she was accustomed to play the part of the dashing adventuress ; the sort of person who could not, under any possible circumstances, be put down. I realised that she might be disposed to carry something of her stage manner into actual life.' She confronted! me as if I were some despised, but life-long enemy, whose attacks she was prepared to resist at every point. "When are you going to tell me what has happened to .Bessie? In the first place, where is she ? " She's at Imperial Mansions." "What's she doing there?" " She's in charge of the housekeeperMrs Peddar." "In charge! What do you mean?" Miss Moore is not — not herself."

'• You men have been playing some trick on her. You hall pay for it dearly if you have ! "

I caught her by .the arm ; she evincing a strong inclination to rush off to Imperial Mansions there and then.

"Miss Moore came through my bedroom window at an early hour this morning, in — a curious condition."

. "Your bedroom window! - This morning!. She must have been in a curious condition !"

"A man was murdered in the building about the same time that she appeared at the Avindow. - His set of chambers is on the same floor as mine; they communicate by the balcony along which she came. When she entered the cloak she wore was soaked in blood, and her hands were wet with, it."

Miss Adair drew back, staring at me with distended eyes. " Man ! Are yoii a man, or axe you a. devil? Do you dare to hint that Bessie, my Bessie Moore, could by any possibility be guilty of murder!"

" I simply state to you the facts. That she was m the dead man's room there is irrefutable 'evidence to show; that she had anything to do with his murder I do not for a moment believe — I am as convinced of her innocence as you can be. My theory is that she was an unwilling witness of what took place, and that the horror of it temporarily unhingrprj, ligr gfain,'s L

"Is she — mad?" "No; but she suffers from entire loss of memory. , Her- life might have commenced .with her entrance through my ; she can remember nothing of what occurred before,, not even her own name. I believe that if she could be brought to recall what she actually saw take place, that her innocence would be at once made plain." "What is the name of the man who was -r-murdered?" I told her. "Lawrence? Edwin Lawrence? I don't remember ever having heard the name." " She said nothing to you last night about having an appointment with him, or with anyone?" She hesitated. " Are - you — Bessie's friend?" "I am. At least, I hope I may call myself her friend, although I never spoke to her before last night. Ido not think . there is anything which Fwould not do to save her from misconstruction." She eyed in'e-r-quizzically. " I think I'll trust you, Mr -Ferguson, tho_ugh I've never trusted a man yet without regretting it. I hope you won't feel hurt, but there is something about you which reminds me of a St. Bernard. You're big — very big ; you lco'k strong — awfully strong ; yoii're hairy. I put my hand up "to my beard. " Oh, I don't, mean that you're too the beard's becoming ; but you fare 4 hairy. You look simple ; somehow 'one .-'associates simplicity with trustworthiness ; and now you're blushing. " She would have made anyone blush ! " The blush settles it; -I will, repose my-confi-v dence in you, as I have done in -others!" - ■* Her mariner "changed; she became serious. — - "The truth is that last night Bessie did seem worried, frightfully worried; and that's what's been worrying me. She was not like her usual self a bit; I coiildn't make her out at. all. I hadn't the faintest notion what was wrong; when I asked her if she was ill she snapped my head off. And for" Bessie to be snappish was an un-he"ard-of thing ; her temper's not like mine, always going" off, she's the gentlest, sweetest soul. She dressed herself and walked out out the theatre, without saying a word to me ; I only ran against her in the " street, by accident, just as she was getting into a cab. - '" Psaid. ' Bessie, aren't you coming home with me?' — because we always do come home together. ' But she answered, quite hufßshly, that she was not — she had an appointment to keep. I did not dare to ask with whom, or where, though it did seem odd that she should have made an appointment at that hour of the night Avithout saying a word of it to me ; but I did venture to inquire when I might expect her to return. Leaning her head out of the cab, just as it was starting, she called out to me, ' Perhaps never.' -I didn't .suppose that she 'was entirely in earnest, but, somehow, - I couldn't help feeling that about the answer . there was something which , might turn out to; be unpleasantly prophetic.''' ■ ; ''"One thing is plain, Miss/ Adair, you must come with -me at once to Imperial , Mansions. Yoiu\ presence may restore to your friend hei* memory. But, whether or not, you must bring her home, or at anj 'rate you must take her away from the Mansions, and that immediately." " Your manner, Mr Ferguson, is autocratic. You don't ask me, you command ; but I'll obey. - That is, if you'll condescend to wait while I put a hat on." She went upstairs. Almost immediately she had done so there came a ring at the front door. The door was o.pened, and shut again. After it had been shut, Miss Adair called down" the stairs, «=• • "Ellen, who was that?" The maid's voice replied, " It was someone who wished to see Miss Moore. He said his name was Withers — Mr George Withers." " George Withers !" I shouted. Without a moment's hesitation I rushed out" of the sitting-room, flung open the front door, and dashed into" the street. I daresay that Ellen, and Miss Adair too, thought that. I had suddenly become a raving lunatic. But Ellen's mention of .the caller's name recalled to me the fact that the peculiar letter which I had found in the pocket of the plum-cojoured cloak had. been addressed to " George Withers." A young man was" going down the "street, •walking .rather, quickly. I shouted to him. : ' " Hollo ! Mr" George Withers !" v He stopped and turned, with somethingof a start; "then stared, as "if uncertain what to make of me, or - what to do. I called to him again. " I want you !" As I spoke I moved towards him, intending, since he seemed indisposed to come to me, to gc to him, and then explain. But no sooner had I started than he swung round on his heels, tore off at full speed, and, before I realised what it was that he was doing, had vanished round the corner. Although I was unable to guess why he should run away 'from me as if I were the plague, I had no intention, if I could l^elp it,, of .being run-,away from ; I so, as hard as; I could. pe,lt, I went after him. 'Jt was a lively .chase while „ it lasted ; I iniVst have presented an elegant 'figure as, ■ hatless, my coat tails flying, -* I ' raced through those respectable streets. Fortunately, he was no match for me in pace ; I had him before he reached the Fulham road. He must have been in shocking condition, for he had already run himself right ..out, and, gasping for breath, was like a blown rabbit. , Saying nothing — I felt that that was not the place in which to carry oil the sort of conversation I had in my mind's eye — I took him by the shoulder and marched him. tack again.- He, on his part, was equally mute, and made not the slightest effort at resistance. Miss Adair received^ us at the door. - "What on earth . the matter? Where liave you been? And who is this man?" * Her 'trick of speaking in iralics reminded^ me of her manner on the stage. I led my companion into the sitting-room. There I , introduced him. ; ' " This is Mr George Withers. I fancy &k 648 ftive us jjaCor mation on y. subject oh .

which, at this moment, information is very much needed." '.' Mr George Withers " was a mere youth, scarcely more than a boy. I was not prepossessed by his appearance, though he was well dressed, and had a handsome face. He had proved himself a cur; I felt sure that he was a sneak, and perhaps something worse as well. I handed him the letter which I had taken from the lady's pocket.

"I believe, Mr Withers, that this letter is for you."" He seemed at first reluctant to take it, as if fearful that it contained ■lomeching which might disturb his peace of mind. He eyed it doubtfully; read the .iddnMs; perceived that the envelope had been opened. A disagreeable look came upon his handsome countenance; he turned on me with a snarl.

" Who are you? What do you mean by treating me as you have done? And how dare you open a- letter that's addressed to me?"

" First read your letter, Mr Withers. Put your questions afterwards."

He scanned the brief epistle with looks which did not improve as he went on. Theit he snapped at me, as if he would h?ve liked, to bite as well,

You stole it ; you must have stolen it ! I've half a lniri'd to give you in charge ; you don't know what mischief you mayn't lave done."

"Is the person alluded to as 'that scoundrel ' in the; letter which you are holding Mr , Edwin i Lawrence, of Imperial Mansions?"

" What "do you want to know for? What do you mean by meddling in my affairs? What business is it of yours?"' " Because, if it is, Mr Edwin Lawrence is dead."' " Dead !" " He was murdered last night." "Murdered!" The fashion of his countenance changed. " Then she — she killed him.'*-

He fell back, till he staggered against a chair. A pitiful object l<e presented as he perched himself upon the edge. Neither Miss Adair nor I said a word. Alter a moment's interval, during which the muscles, of his face twitched, as if ha had become suddenly possessed with St. Vitus's- Dance, he went rambling on, apparently not altogether conscious of what it was that he was saying : " I knew there'd be mischief, I knew there would. I said- if she would meddle in my affairs she'd make a mess of it. I told her she didn't know what she was going in for, that he. was dangerous. But ••ihe's as obstinate as a mule; she never would take my advice, never!"'

" Which shows that she is a lady of considerable discretion. What connection, Mr Withers, have you with Miss Moore?" -He started forward- on the chair, casting a frightened look, about hini.

"Is she — taken? man?' 1

Are you a poli.ee-

"'No, I am not a policeman; I have not that honour. And she is not taken — as 'yet. • I repeat my inquiry. What connection, Mr Withers, have you with Miss Moore?"

" Never mind ! That's my business, not yours. She's got into this mess by herself, and she must get out of it by herself. I wash my hands of her. I've got an appointment which I must keep. You let me go-"

He got up with a little air of bluster which was pitiful ; it was such a poor attempt at make-believe.

" Listen to me, Mr Withers — correct me if I am wrong — but you seem to be a nice young man — a very nice young man. And it's because you're such a very nice young man — always attending, Mr Withers, your correction — that I desire -to . inform you that if you don't answer my questions as truth? fully as your nature will allow you there'll be trouble. You understand? Trouble. So be so good as to tell me at once what there can possibly be in common between a lady of Miss Moore's class and a person of yours?"

" ' Yours ' is good. I don't see what difference there can ba between our classes, considering that she's my sister." Miss.Adair interposed. -'tYbur sister. Bessie's'your sister. Then you're Toni Moore, her vagabond, of a bro■tlier, who's robbed her of hundred and hundreds of pounds. I thought 1 knew you); face — it's -like a bad copy of Bessie's, with-all her goodness, left out and your own wickedness put in. You ungrateful scamp, to speak' of her in that cold-blooded manner, when she has.tlone all that she possibly could for you, and you, in return, have been to her the one trouble of her life."

He confronted the frank-spoken lady with looks which were alive with impudence. I perceived that he was a better match for a woman than a man. " I know who you are. You call yourself Miss Adair. Adair ! Go on ! Sure

that's your proper name? I know more about ydu than, "you , perhaps think. And for Bessie to let out things to you about me shows the sort she is ; telling a pack of lies about her "only relative." " Her only relative ! It's hei misfortune that she has you." "Oh, that's it, is it? Then from this day forward she hasn't got me ; tell her so, with my kind regards. As I've said already, I wash my hands -of her ; 1 cut the relationship. Willingly I'll nevei own bo bearing her name again. It's not a name I ever have been particularly proud of, and now it's one if which I shall have less cause to be proud than ever, from what I'm told. Good-day to you, Miss Adair!" He was now actually marching from the room. I had to give him a gentle hint in order to detain him. He winced under my touch like a hound which fears punishment.

"What wag the nature of ydur business, Mr M oore, which took your sister last night to Mr Edwin Lawrence?"

" That's my business ; it's none of yours." " Answer my question. He actually whimpered. It was begin-, ning .to dawn on me that I might be :on-

strained to wring his neck before he went: •' Don't ! You hurt ! It Avas about ■some bills." ' Some bills of yours . which you had given to Mr Lawrence?" ''No, it wasn't then. Don't! It was about some bills which he got me to — to fake." '■ I see. And might some of them have borne the name of Mr Philip Lawrence?" "Who told you? How dc you know?" " Nevei mind who told me. Answer !" "It was all his fault ! _ I should never have thought of such a thing if it hadn't been for him — he egged me on. I—lI — 1 owed him a few pounds ,and he said if I were to fake up some bills with his brother's name on them, he'd let me off." '' And put the forgeries - on the market, dividing the proceeds of the fraud with you?" " Nothing of the kind, I'll take my oath to it. I swear I never had a penny. 1 never dreamt that he'd discount them, not for a moment ! I thought it was a game he was going to play off on his brother" — some sort of joke."

" Keen sense of humour yours, Mr Moore." " That's where he had me ; he must have gone straight off and cashed the bills.- Then his brother found it out, 'and then he came to me and threatened to tell his brother that it was I who'd done it."

" And then you went to your sister and asked her, probably on your bended knees, to save you from exposure."

"There svas no bended knees about it; you're very much mistaken if you think there was. I'm not that kind. But I—lI — I certainly mentioned to her something about it — she's my own flesh and blood.*'

" Being your own flesh and blood she, possibly, offered to do hei best to square it for you."

" That's the mistake she made. She talked about giving him a hundred or two, as though that would be of any use. I said to her that if she'd -give- the money to me I could "go abroad and stai't afresh, and it might be the making of riie. But she never would take my advice, never!" "So your sister, a young, unprotected girl, at your urgent solicitation, went alone to this man at that hoiu of the night, at the risk of — a good majry things ; and.' in order to save you from the well-merited cos&equences of your being a cowardly rascal, offered to hand over to him her hard won savings, and, in all probability, to pledge to the fullest extent her future earnings. And when, in the morning, he is found to have been murdered, you immediately jump to the conclusion that she killed him. With you, Mr Moore, the sense of gratitude, takes a peculiar form. In a state of civilisation in which logic prevailed the breath would be crushed out of your body; sharing the fate of other vermin, you would not be allowed to exist. Unfortunately, for you, this is not a moment in the world's history in which logic does prevail.",

So I shook him — gently. I did not treat him to a thousandth part of his deserts, for his sister's sake. Yet, when I dropped him back on to the floor, to judge from Ms looks and his behaviour, he might have been used with considerable severity. He -seemed to be under the impression that 1 had murdered him. "That was good!" said Miss Adair. "I feel better."

I don't know what prompted her -to make such a remark, but I felt better too.

(To be continued.)