LOVE’S TWO- EDGED SWORD.

Otago Witness, Issue 3017, 10 January 1912, Page 70

LOVE’S TWO- EDGED SWORD.

THE NOVELIST.

[All Rights Reserved.]

By Christopher Wilson, Author of “ The Wings of Destiny,” ‘‘The Missing Millionaire,” “ For a Woman’s Honour.” CHAPTER YIL—THE CASE FOR THE CROWN, i jR RODNEY ELWOOD had disposed of the usua roujw tine cases of the ‘‘drunk Zb and disorderly” type, and r* had adjourned for a short interval, prior to embarking upon the investigation of tire grave charge against ' Stella Tremayne. As the hour of the adjourned hearing approached, the dingy court was crowded to its utmost capacity. There was a continuous buzz of conversation, and the only individual who seemed indifferent was Montagu Strong, the Treasury Counsel, who lay back in his seat and etared dreamily at the grimy ceiling. As Stephen Welby entered, accompanied by Richard Keston, there was a sudden lull in the general conversation. Then as Keston bowed to the prosecuting counsel and seated himself at the table in the well of the court, the hum of many voices broke forth with renewed vigour. ‘‘Silence! Silence! Hats off!” There was a sudden hush, then a shuffling of feet as the spectators rose, to their feet, while Rodney Ehvood passed rapidly from his chamber to the bench. For an instant he glanced frowningly at the crowd that thronged the court. ’Then, having returned the bows of the two counsel, he seated himself, and said curtly : “Put forward the prisoner.” As Stella Tremayne stepped forward into the deck her swift glance swept around the array of staring faces, and she shivered slightly and caught at the rail in front of her as if for support. Then, recovering herself, she bowed gracefully to the presiding magistrate. But Rodney Elwood’s only acknowledgment of her courtesy was a muttered order; ‘‘Let the prisoner have a seat. Then as the constable by her side beckoned her to a chair, the magistrate glanced at the Treasury Counsel and said : ‘‘Now, Mr Strong! The languid expressii n dropped from the gaunt features of Montagu Strong likq a mask, and as he rose to bis feet there was a steely glint in his deep-set eyes and a sudden hardening of the lines about his thin lips. His opening observations were few and admirably concise, and although the magistrate lay back in his chair with halt-closed eyes, he was obviously following the statement with close attention. Once only, while the Crown counsel was speaking, did Mr Ehvood interpose. Strong was describing, with some minuteness of detail, the condition of the room in which the body of Max Harden had been dis-

covered, and was emphasising that the watch and sovereign-purse of the murdered man had disappeared, when the magistrate said quietly : “What motive do you suggest, Mr Strong? Not robbery?” Montagu Strong hesitated, and there was a swift interchange of significant glances between him and the magistrate. Then he said, with slow deliberation : “No, sir. I suggest that the robbery, and probably many of the other matters to which I have referred, were only intended as a blind to throw the detectives off the track.” He paused, and glanced across the table at Inspector Oswald. The detective’s thin lips curved into a quiet smile, and he nodded approvingly. Then Strong went on : “The Crown is, of course, under no obligation to prove any particular motive, but I have no hesitation in stating that, in this case, we can establish that the prisoner’s motive was—jealousy.” . There was a sudden outbreak of shuffling and rustling among the crowded seats, and a confused whispering ran through the court. Keeton swung round abruptly in his seat to speak to his solicitor, but Stephen Wei by was still gazing curiously at the face of Stella Tremayne. The policeman and the magistrate’s clerk sternly called for silence, and the whispering died away. Then, as Montagu Strong resumed the thread of his speech, Keston whispered in guarded tones to his solicitor: “What is the moaning of this? She told us that she and Harden had never been on friendly' terms.” “Look at her!” whispered Welby. Keston turned in his seat and glanced at the prisoner. Her face was flushed, there was a strange gleam of mockery in her eyes, and her lips were curved in a contemptuous smile. Keston turned again to his solicitor. in it?” he queried, in the same cautious undertone. Stephen Welby glanced at his counsel with a sceptical expression in his deep-set eyes, and murmured : “I am not so sure of that. The woman is a wonderful actress. We may have our work cut out for us before the Crown case is over.” Then Montagu Strong concluded his opening statement, and proceeded to go into evidence. The first witness was the divisional police-surgeon who had examined the body, and hia evidence was brief and clear. The cause of death was obvious. The deceased had been stabbed with a long hatpin, which had pierced the heart. It had apparently been snapped by the ■violence of the fatal thrust, and the surgeon produced the pointed portion of the pin which he had extracted from the wound. Keston’s cross-examination was short. “Do you think it physically possible that the accused lady oould have inflicted such a wound as yon have described while tae deceased was struggling to defend himself ?” The surgeon glanced hesitatingly at the slender form ot the prisoner, but before he had time to reply Strong was upon his feet. “I beg your pardon,” he said sharply. “There is no .evidence of any such •struggle. ’ ’ Then, as Keston resumed his seat Strong turned to the witness with the query: “Did the position of the body, of the condition of the clothing, in any way suggest that a struggle had taken place?” The witness snook his head emphatically, and said : “No. certainly not. Quite the contrary, in fact.”

Montagu Strong nodded significantly and the surgeon retired. Then followed the evidence of the constables who had arrived upon the scene of the tragedy, the valet who had been the first to discover the body of his master, and Mrs Morrison, the housekeeper, who proved that Max Harden had left his house in Hill street late in the afternoon of the 21st December, and that up till the hour of 1 on the following morning he had not returned home. None of these witnesses was cross-examined by the prisoner’s counsel. When Mrs Morrison had stepped down from the witness box there was a short whispered conference between the prosecuting counsel and Inspector Oswald. Rodney Elwood glanced impatiently at the clock and murmured : “So far, you have offered no evidence to connect the prisoner with the crime, Mr Strong.” Strong was upon his feet in an instant, and there was a dramatic ring in his resonant voice as he said : “That, sir, is an omission which can be easily rectified. Call James Ogden !” As the clerk of the court repeated the name a clean-shaven man, with grey hair and grave, eedate, features, stepped forward and entered the witness box. When he had been duly sworn. Montagu Strong turned towards him with the double-bar-relled query ; “You are a waiter at the Frivolity Restaurant, and you were personally acquainted with the deceased Mr Harden?” “Yes, sir. I have known Mr Harden for years. He always sat at one of my tables when be came to the Frivolity.” “When did -cu last see Mr Max Harden?” “On New Year’s Fve. sir.” “Who was with him?” “Miss Tremayne. sir. They came in together about 11 o'clock, and Mr Harden ordered supper for two, at the corner table beside the window.” “Had Mr Harden visited the Frivolity Restaurant in company with the prisoner on previous occasions?” “Yes, sir. They often look supper together at mv table, while Miss Tremayne was playing in Mr Harden’s last success, ‘ The Dragon Flies.’ ” “And recently?” “Xo. sir. Not recently. New Year's Fve was the first time I had seen the lady in Mr Harden’s company for more than six

weeks, I should say. Mr Harden had» been coming in regularly for supper with another lady—l don’t know her name—and then, on New Year’s Eve, I saw that there was trouble between him and Mias Tremayne. They seemed to be quarrelling all the time. Most of the time they were speaking in a low tone, but I heard the lady say in an angry kind of way : ‘ Then I suppose it is your idea that I am to be your slave, to be bound or released according to your whims and fancies, without the least regard to my feelings in the matter.’ ” “When did you last see your mistress on Montagu Strong. “He whispered something that I could not hear, sir, and then, just as I was passing their table, the lady said, as if in reply to him, ‘ I know the law is on your side, but I warn you that if you drive me to the last extremity, you will find that the law is a poor protection.’ That is all that I heard, sir.” A thrill ran through the crowded court as Strong sat down. Stephen Welby had left his seat and was engaged in a whispered conversation with the prisoner, who had listened to the waiter’s evidence with unruffled calm. There were a few moments of suspense, and then as Welby returned to his place beside his counsel, Richard Keston nodded carelessly at the witness and said :

“You may go. I do not ask you anything.” Keston’s refusal to cross-examine created a greater sensation than any cressexamination, however brilliant, would have caused, and even Mr Elwood knitted his brows and gazed at the young barrister curiously. It seemed ns if the prosecution had sprung a secret mine, the existence of which iHtd not been suspected by the prisoner or her advisers. Then, while the minds, of' the '‘spectators were still occupied with the evidence of James Ogden, the next witness for the Crown entered the box and was sworn. She was a tall, thin, elderly woman, attired in black. Her name was Lucile Bardine, Stella Tremayne’s housekeeper. “Do you remember the 31st of December?” Strong asked. The witness flung out her hands with a gesture of dramatic appeal, and broke forth volubly: ‘ ‘Do I remember ? Ah ! is it that I can ever forget, while the life is in my body? Jamais: Jamais!” Strong paused for a moment, and then said quietly : “Wncn she went out, did she tell you that day?” “She did dine at home, and then, after dinner, she did go out.” She paused, hesitatingly, but Strong went on : ‘' vVhen she went out, did she tell you when she would return?” “ But yes. She did say that she would not be home till late, and that I need not wait up for her.” Mademoiselle Bardin’s nerves were now under control, * and she threw back her head defiantly, as she awaited the next question. “When did you next see your mistress?” The witness glanced wildly round the court. Her pale face was suddenly flushed, and she gasped hysterically. Then, as though compelled to speech by the relentless inquiry in Strong's penetrating eyes, she murmured brokenly: “To-day, hers in this court, I see madame for the first time since she did go out that evening. She did send me a telegram from Southampton on the next day—yes. But never again, till to-day, did I see madame. ” Her momentary composure had broken down, and once more she sobbed bitterly. Montagu Strong flung a challenging glance at the prisoner's counsel, and resumed his seat. Keston elicited from the witness the fact that her mistress had forwarded her luggage to Southampton early on the 30th of December, haying booked her passage more than a week previously. Then, as Mademoiselle Bardin retired, Montagu Strong rose and addressed the magistrate. “That, sir, is the case for the Crown. The prisoner’s threatening language, - her mysterious absence from home on the night in question, and her sudden flight on the following morning, call for explanation.” Rodney Elwood glanced at the clock. “To-morrow morning, Mr Keston,” he said; “I will hear your defence. Meantime, I must adjourn.” CHAPTER VIII.—A CONFERENCE WITH COUNSEL. “Yes, Miss Tremayne, I think that I have good reason Co be annoyed, and more than annoyed.” Stephen Welby rapped out the words angrily, and glanced at his counsel, as if inviting confirmation. The tumult of the departing crowd had died away, and in the little ante-room of the Police Court, where the prisoner had been permitted to interview her solicitor and counsel, there was silence, which was only broken by the measured footfalls of the constable and warder, who waited impatiently in the outer Corridor. For a moment Richard Keston paused, and then he said: “I agree with Mr Welby. Unless you are prepared to confide in us completely, and to let us have all the material facts, it is really impossible to conduct your defence.” He spoke in a tone of gentle remonstrance that contrasted strikingly with Welbv’s outburst of irritation, and it was to her counsel that Stella Tremayne addressed herself, as she replied in a low voice ; “1 told Mr Welby all that was necessary.” “I beg your pardon, madame ; you did not.” said Welby sharply, tapping Keston’s brief which lay upon the table. “You never said one word about a quarrel between jou and Max Harden, nor did you mention the fact that you had previously

been on the most intimate terms with him.”

“I did not consider these matters were material.” Welby shrugged his shoulders, and asked abruptly: . ‘‘Why did vou quarrel with him? Slowly, and with manifest reluctance. Miss Tremayne replied : “It was purely a matter of business. I had signed a contract to appear exclusively under his management for a period of two years. I wanted to free myself from the contract, and he insisted upon my fulfilling it. That was all.” There was something in her tone, something in the cloud which had darkened her eye, that belied her words, and even as se spoke both of the men who listened knew instinctively that what she had said was not all. Welby mentally compared her explanation with the evidence of Ogden, and found it unsatisfactory. Keston glanced down at his brief and said : “I think. Miss Tremayne, you must let us know what was your reason for wishing to break your contract.” The solicitor ..nodded emphatically and said : “You had better let us have the full explanation now. To-morrow, when you are cross-examined by Mr Strong, you will lie obliged to tell everything; that is, unless you can let Mr Keston have sufficient information to enable him to protect you.” At that moment there was a tap at the door of the ante-room, and one of Welby’s clerks arrived with a message from the office which required immediate attention. Welby glanced through the brief note, and then turned to Keston, with the words :

“Will you excuse me for a few minutes? I must dictate a reply to this at once.’" As the door closed behind Welby, Richard Keston looked gravely at his client, and said with gentle persuasiveness : “Surely, Miss Tremayne, you must see that you are tying cur hands and adding difficulties to your own defence. Why not let us have the whole story?” For a moment-she paused, irresolutely. Then, seating herself at the table, she Hung out hei v hands with an imjjulsive gesture, said ; “There is another person—a person whose name must not be dragged into this horrible affair.” ' * • She spoke abruptly and in a strained tone, as though the words came from her lips with painful effort. Keeton did not raise his eyes from the papers on the table. For a few moments he remained silent, sketching aimless diagrams on the margin of his brief, and wrinkling his forehead with anxioufc thought. Then he said slowly: “Ah. I think I understand. You wanted to marry this other person and give up the stage? And I presume that Air Harden objected?” Stella Tremayne uttered a quick, breathless gasp, and Keston glanced keenly at her agitated features to read the” unspoken confession that had leaped into her startled eyes. For an instant she struggled vainly to face his penetrating gaze. Then her wavering glance drooped, and she murmured: “I do not know whether I wanted to marry him or not. But Max Harden thought I aid, and he thought 1 was determined to break my contract with him.” Keston glanced thoughtfully at the note of Inspector Oswald’s evidence before the magistrate at the first hearing, which Welby had briefed for him. Then he said : “I suppose the wireless telegram which you wished to send from the Cap Vilano was addressed to this person?” For a moment she hesitated. Then she replied: “Yes. But I will tell you no more. They may suggest that I had a motive for murdering Max Harden. Let them ! I can prove my innocence. And. even if I could not, even if the result of my trial depended upon my proving that the motive which they suggest did not exist. I would still refuse to mention this ether person’s name.” She spoke rapidly and passionately, and once more there was a gleam of proud defiance in her eyes. Keston gazed at her with an admiration that he was powerless to conceal, but she seemed unconscious of his homage. Suddenly she uttered an inarticulate expression of startled surprise, and stared wildly past Kestno’s shoulder, as though she had seen an apparition. He. swung round instinctively in his chair, and as his glance fell upon the blind of the little window which opened into the street he caught a fleeting glimpse of a shadow that was projected for an instant by the powerful glare of the street lamp without. The window was closed, but the blind was badly fitted, and did not screen the lower portion of the window pane. Keston turned again with the question : “What is wrong? What has startled you?”

“A face! Someone was looking in, and listening.” She uttered the words in a low. nervous whisper, and for a in union t Koston looked at her in silent perplexity, unable to understand her agitation. Then lie said reassuringly ; ‘‘lt was only some curious passer-by. The window is closed, and no one outside could possibly overhear our conversation.” As he spoke, he put his hand into the breast-pocket of bis coat and took out a pocket-book, intending to make a few notes. “No! You must not do that! Please! Please!” The passionate appeal rang out with startling abruptness, and as he glanced quicklv at the speaker the pocket-book slipped from Keston’s hand and fell to the table. As it fell, there was a faint metallic tinkle that struck sudden terror into the heart of Richard Keston. There was a moment of breathless silence. Btella Tremayne clasped her hands and gazed beseechingly at the young barrister, while he stared with haggard eyes at —the glittering head of

the hatpin which he had found upon the' Embankment. It had fallen from the pocket-book, and there it lay upon the table between them. For an instant Keston battled with the impulse to snatch feverishly at the gleaming bauble that was almost within reach of his hand. Then, repeating her words, he said, slowly: “I must not do—what?”

“You must not write down the things that I have told you. They must not be communicated to anyone, not even to Mr Welby. Promise me that you will not use the information that I nave confided to you.” And as Keston’s hand went out to hie pocket-book, he murmured vaguely; “Yes, yes. I promise.” Then, leaning across the table, he ventured to pick up the broken hatpin. Stella Tremayne’s glance followed the motion of his outstretched hand, as she caught sight of the shining object upon the table she shuddered and flung out her hand with a gesture of repulsion. “Put it away,” she murmured. “Put it awav. It is horrible ' Then, as he replaced it carefully in his pocket-book, she asked : “Where did you get it? I thought they said that it had not been found. There was a pause, and it seemed to Keston as though in the silence he could hear -the beat of his throbbing pulses as he vainly sought for an answer. Then, suddenly, her eyes dilated with fear, and she exclaimed : v “There! Look! The face again. There is someone outside that window. I knew it. What can it mean?” Keston turned abruptly towards the window, but this time there was nothmg to be seen, not cv-cji a shadow upon the blind. “I think you are mistaken, he said. “Xo, no. ' Just as you turned round he disappeared. He must have heard me spank. And, if so, then he may have heard all.” And. as she spoke, she rose from her seat and turned towards the door. But Keston had recovered his self-possession, and he replied calmly : “I assure vou. Miss Tremayne, you need not be afraid. The police would never dream of spying upon a consultation such -as this. They dare not. 1 “I was not thinking of the -police,” she said abruptly. “There are others. And if they knew that I had 1 The words died away upon her lips as the door opened, and Stephen Welby entered. For an instant the penetrating glance of the solicitor lingered upon the agitated features of his client, then he turned to his counsel with the query : “Well, Mr Keston. has Miss Tremayne given you any further information that will help us td-morrow?” For d moment Keston hesitated, as if choosing his words. Then he'said slowly; “No. For all practical mirposea we ar-i exactlv where we were before this consultation.” . Welby glanced ostentatiously at his watch and shrugged hie shoulders. The prisoner glanced at her counsel with gratitude in her eyes, and said : “I am very grateful to you, gentlemen, and I shall' not detain you any longer this afternoon.”

She accompanied the words with a graceful bow, and as she passed from the room to the corridor, where the warders awaited her. she seemed more like a queen dismission her Ministers 'of State than a prisoner taking her leave of those wh) sought to save her from the scaffold. For ’ the moment even Welby was impressed, in spite of himself. But he was swift to make amends for his temporary weakness, and as he and Keaton went down the outer steps into the street the solicitor jerked his thumb towards the vehicle which was bearing Stella Tremayne back to her cell, and sneered. “Wall, Mr Keston, as the French general said, ‘it is magnificent, but it is not war.’ Probably, when Montagu Strong cross-examines her to-morrow our fine ladv client will sing to a different tune. But, bv that time, it will be too late for us to interfere.”

As Richard Keeton made his wav through the crowded streets his thoughts were occupied by the unsolved problems which had arisen in the case. He was assured of the innocence of his client, and, moreover, he knew that the evidence which he could produce on the following dav would come as a startling surprise to his opponents. And yet. as he recalled the haunting fear that had leaped into the eyes of Stel'a Tremayne while she insisted upon the precenca of an imaginary spy outside the window of the ante-room, he was conscious of a vague sensation of uneasiness. Suddenly. he was aroused from his reverie by a voice. “1 beg vonr pardon, Mr Keston. Migh; querv in Keston’s eyes, and went on, with you? T must apologise for thrusting mvself upon you, but the matter is urgent.” Keston glanced hesitatingly at the speaker. He was a young man, apparently not more than twenty-five, although a closer scrutiny might have revealed lines and wrinkles such as are but rarely found in the face of a man of fifty, if his life had been temperate and clean. He was elegantly dressed, and his accent and manner betokened the fashionable dandy. The stranger interpreted the unspoken ouery in Keston’s eyes, and went on. with a curious perky nervousness that seemed to grow apace as he spoke : “It is about this Tremayne case. I am Lord Dereham, and, of course, you see . Well, it is a serious matter for me, you know.” H : s voice dropped to a whisper, as ho checked himself abruptly, and began to fidget with his dangling eyeglass. Keston eyed him curionslv as he replied : “T am afraid. Lord Dereham. you give me credit for more acquaintance with your affairs than I possess. However, if you are reallv personally interested in the matter you have mentioned, T am at your service.” “Thanks! Thanks awfully, Mr Keston. What do vou say to toddling round to the club? I’m on the committee, yon know,

and nre can have a room to ourselves. We can’t very well discuss this affair in the streets, can we?” “ Just as you like,” said Rest on laconically. “Curious coincidence, your happening to meet me !” His companion flushed slightly, and hesitated for a moment. Then he said : “Well, no. \ou see, I was waiting for you —at the Police Court, I mean. When you came out Welby was with you, and I didn t want him to see me, you know. I hen—well, the fact is I followed you along the street, because at first I hadn't the pluck to speak to you. Rotten coward I am. sometimes.” “i r ou were waiting outside the Police Court. I see!” Keston uttered the words with stinging emphasis, and there was a hostile gleam in his eyes that filled Lord Dereham’s mind with vague discomfort. In his own mind Keston was now satisfied as to the identity of the mysterious individual whose appearance outside the window of the anteroom had so strangely disconcerted Stella Tremayne, and as he recalled her distress he was conscious of a sudden rush of fierce resentment against the man at his side. When they entered the Grecian Dramatic Club Lord Dereham’s persistent offers of liquid hospitality -were declined by his guest, with an emphasis that was scarcely polite. And when, at last, they found themselves alone in the seclusion of the committee room, Keston ostentatiously selected a cigarette from his own case, and tursing to his oompanoh, whose nervousness had returned with greater force, said coldlv ; “Well?” “I suppose she has told you and Welby all about it. I don't altogether blame her if she has, for, of course, she is in a devilish tight place, just at present. You now that, as well as I do, and probably better, but the point is how to prevent the thing going any farther. Even as it s >/ my father, the Earl, is in a blazing rage. Swears that if my name is dragged into the affair he will cut me adrift 'without a penny, and, by Jingo! he means it, too.” His name dragged into'the affair. The very words-which Stella Tremayne had used. Light began to dawn in Keston’s mind, and as he glanced at the creature for the sake of whose name Stella Tremayne was willing to risk her own, he was conscious of mingled feelings of wonder and disappointment. For a moment there was silence. Then Keston said slowly and deliberately: “Are you aware that the only motive suggested by the Crown in Miss Tremaylie’s case is jealousy ?” “Yes. I was not in court myself, but a reporter Johnnie, a pal of mine whom I had squared, let me know from time to time how things were going. An infernally idiotic suggestion it is. Won’t give you much trouble, I should think.” Keston’s tone was still more deliberate as he asked: ■ “Are you also aware that by going into the witness box to-morrow yon can destroy the Crown theory as to motive and clear Miss Tremayne from this scandalous imputation once and for all?” For an instant Lord Dereham stared at the speaker in a dazed fashion, as if unable lo comprehend the question. Then he broke out with irritable impatience in his tone: “Good heavens! Of course I am aware of that. Why, that is the horrible danger; that is why I asked you to help me in the matter. Ido not deny that I was hard hit and was ready to marry her. And if I had married her, although there would have been a nasty fuss at first, my people would have come round all right in the end. But now—after she has been mixed up in a scandal of this kind—well, of course, you can see that it alters everything completely.” He shrugged his shoulders expressively and glanced at Keston, whose brows had contracted ominously. “ 1 lien. I take it. you are unwilling to give evidence?”

‘‘Of coin's? I am. And as I tell von, I am in a mortal funk lest I should be summoned as a witness, or lest she herself should give ire away bv her evidence. You will admit, I think, that it would be confoundedly hard lines on me, now that I have chucked her. to have the old story ripped up. And if you can manage to get her to see this, bv Jove. 1 assure you I won't forget it; and I have no doubt that my father, the Earl, would ” “Confound you and your father the Earl! If I wore not here as~your guest in your club. Lord Dereham, I should consider it a privilege and a pie'sure to tell you what I think of you and your proposal.” Richard Keston was angry, very angry indeed, and his fists clenched involuntarily. As he turned towards the door Lord Derehum ventured upon feeble remonstrance. “Upon my soul, this is too much ! What right have you to address me in such a fashion. I should like to know?” Keston paused on the threshold, and glanced at the speaker with withering scorn. Then his lips curled contemptuously. and he replied : ‘‘What right? A right that you would hardly understand or appreciate—the right of a man!” And, as the door c’osed behind him. his antagonist dropped limplv into a lounge chair, and murmured helplessly : “Rv Jove! I have made a mess of this game!” Meanwhile, as Keston passed through the nortals of the “(L D.” into the street, his memory harked hack to the strange scene in the anteroom, and he asked himself vainly, why should Stella Tremayne have been afraid of a creature such as Lord Doreham ? (To be continued.)