SHORT STORIES.

Otago Witness, Issue 3098, 30 July 1913, Page 81

SHORT STORIES.

By Elliott Bailey, author of “ From the Depths Beneath/’ ,l Frances Castleton s Jewels/’ “ The Moroccan Despatch/’ etc.

[Alt* Rights Riseutkd.] THE HOUSE OF CRIME.

It was an evening in late October, and a mournful wind, soughing across the flat Belgian countryside from the North Sea, was fast stripping the leaves from the trees in the Boulevards of Brussels. But within the Cafe des .Mille Colonncs where I, Charles Martin, of the British Diplomatic Service, sat watching the motley crowd around me, it was warm and cheerful, and 1 felt somewhat reluctant to leave, though 1 had much work to get through that evening, in preparation for an audience on the morrow with his Majesty the King of the Belgians himself —an audience iraught with great and grave possibilities. ■At length, mindful of this apointment, I was about to leave the cafe when my attention was attracted by the entrance of two girls and a wed-dressed man, who took possession of a table not very far from mine. Both girls were strikingly beautiful, one especially so. Masses of red-gold hair crowned a face perfect in its contour and complexion, and her eyes were of that decj) purple-blue so often written about and so seldom seen. But perhaps the most remarkable fact about her was a certain expression of resigned sadness on Iter lace, an expression intensified in her wonderful eyes as for a moment they met mine. And in the unfathomable depths of those eyes, brief though her glance had been, 1 read mystery -nay, more than that—tragedy; and in 50..,e unexplainable fashion I felt that my life was entwined with hers, that fate had willed that we should meet thus in the Cafe des Mille Colonncs. Abandoning my intention of leaving, 1 called for a liqueur, and, leaning back in rny chair, studied her companions. The other girl was undoubtedly handsome also, hut of quite a different type. Black hair, rather strongly-marked eyebrows, and a slightly aquiline nose gave to her pallid countenance a look of command. enhanced by eyes nearly as dark as her hair. Her thin lips imparted almost a look of cruelty to her face, and 1 felt that she would he better to have as a friend than an enemy. About the man I noticed nothing remarkable. Had he not been the companion of the two girls i should probably not have given him a passing thought, unless, perhaps, I might have been attracted by his slightly sinister expression, revealed more clearly when he smiled. He called ior and drank a glass of beer, but the two girls took nothing. All talked together in low tones, and it seemed to me that the dark woman and the man were endeavouring to convince the other of something against her will. I saw that her face was troubled, and that once or twice site protested ; but presently the vehemence of her companions seemed to overbear her, and she remained silent. Significant glances passed between them, and then, at a word from the man, all rose from the table. I was watching the fair-haired girl as they d;d so. I confess her vivid beauty had fascinated-me, and suddenly she met my gaze for the second time that evening. Long and earnestly she looked at me. and I read in her eyes, an plainly as if she had spoken Hie words, a wild, almost hopeless despair and a mute appeal for assistance. The next moment she had turned and followed the others, leaving me stupefied, and wondering whether, after all, 1 had not let my imagination befool me. Vet 1 knew that it was not so. I knew that for some reason pi .'.Other that lovely girl had invoked my YsJagpand I rose to my feet and followed Them from the rest a urant. A drizzling rain was falling as i slipped out into the Place de la Monnaie. and 1 was just in time to see them get into a- taxi cab. Hailing another, 1 told the driver to keep theirs in sight, and .stop when it did. Had 1 known what that drive was to lead to, should ( ever have embarked upon it? Yes, 1 think 1 should, for the spell of that girls wondrous beauty was upon me, and tin mystery of sorrow and of terror ! had read in her eyes drew me on. Certahily the drive proved a longer one than I had expected. Presently we left the lighted streets of the city behind us. and were running rapidly along a flat country road. Then we turned, off this into a narrow and bumpy lane, and from this into others, until I had quite lost my bearings, and began to -irondtr whether, after all, I had not been a fool to come. But at length I felt the brakes applied to the cab. and we came to a standstill. I stepped out to find that the rain had stopped, and that we had drawn up before the gates of a large house standing in own grounds, its outline dimly visible in the darkness. The other motor, my chauffeur informed me, had entered the gates, and proceeded un the drive. And now 1 was in a quandary. I did not even know what steps I was going to take. We were several miles from Brussels, anti if I dismissed mv taxi i* 1 would mean a weari=ome -vwlk V-'ick. YM how could I keep it standing there for an indefinite time? Besides, mv movements would probably seem suspicious to the driver. There was. I felt, no help

for it. I should have to walk back to Brussels. Therefore I paid the man the already considerable fare due, and told him that I should not require his services any longer. Before he went, however, I a-sked him if he knew who lived in the house, but he did not. The peojdo had only lately come, he said, and he knew nothing about them.

He was a discreet man, and asked no questions, though my behaviour must have seemed curious to him. However, I tipped him well, over and above the amount registered on the taximeter, and, wishing me a civil good-night, he drove away. Then, pushing open the gate, I walked up the drive. It was quite short, and the three people I had followed had evideutly entered the house. There was no sign of their motor in the drive, so evidently it must have driven on and gone out through another gate. The house was apparently illuminated from top to bottom, for there seemed to bo a light in every room.

The front door was partly open, and when I pulled the bell I heard its distant peal in the back part of the house. I intended, when someone came, to pretend to have lost my way and hurt my a lame explanation enough, but’ I coulo think of nothing better.

But there was no answer to my ring, nor could I hear anyone moving, so I pulled the hell once more. And again the distant echoes of it died away, and there was no response. Yet f felt that there must be people in the house. It was certainly strange. I was debating with myself whether I should ring a third time, when I was suddenly startled by a woman's scream—a scream of terror and of pain. It was not repeated, ami the same sinister silence settled down upon the bouse as before. Could it have come from the lips of the beautiful girl. with her strange expression of sorrow and secret fear? If so, she indeed needed my protection, and T hesitated no longer, but. pushing open (lie door, boldly entered the hall. It was empty, as were several richlyfurnished rooms which opened off it. I hesitated before ascending the stairs. What right had I at all in tiie no use? Things might prove above hoard after all. and, if so, I should have difficulty in I satisfying anyone that mv own conduct was natural. Yet my belief that the girl who already occupied all mv thoughts was in some great peril grew stronger, and I mounted the stairs. Here 1 made a curious discovery. The door of every room upstairs was open, and every room was empty. I searched the house from top to bottom. There was not a soul in it. Yet acetylene gas was burning in every apartment, and every room was furnished. Completely mystified, I descended into the hall, and then re-entered what was evidently the dining tovini. I had heard that woman’s scream as plainly as I heard my own footsteps, yet not a. vestige of anyone was to be eeon. All at once, on the dining-room floor, I caught sight of an object I had not noticed before. It was a lock of a girl’s fair hair, and, with a thrill of horror, 1 saw that at one end it was wet with blood ! At the same moment a slight noise behind me made me turn, and I found myself confronting the girl who had mutely, yet so plainly, invoked my assistance in the cafe. For a moment we looked at each other in silence, and I waited for her to speak. She seemed at a leas for words, but at length she said, simply : “It was very good of you to come, monsieur.” She spoke the purest French, and was, I judged, a Parisienne. “Then von did need me. mademoiselle.'” 1 questioned. “Yes,” she said, “I did need you. let 1 was afraid you would not understand me, I need vou for my own sake, and the sake of vour comitrv and mine. "Vet I must warn von. In this house you are in deadly peril. But as vet no one knows you are here but myself. There is still time for you to leave it and seek safety. She was much agitated, and spoke rapidlv, almost incoherently. Had it not been for their deep ring of earnestness, tier words might almost have been those of one who was not quite responsible tor what she said. “I am not afraid.” I said quietly. ‘ ie l me what danger threatens you, and I will do mv best to help vou.” She looked at me gratefully, and grew calmer. “Thank yon. Monsieur Marfr,; it was what I expected vou would say. Yes. I know you. You were once pointed out to me bv a friend and when T saw you in the cafe 1 felt that you might prove my ealvaticn. My name is Cecil© Da volte, and mv home is in Pans. But now I am iu the hands of mv bitter enemies—the enemies, too. of Kmrland and

my own dear land. I am in a position to divulge this plot, though they will kill me if they find out I have done so.” She plunged her hand into the bosom of her dress, and drew out a document. “Read this,” she went on —“yet read it quickly, for our time is short. "Within half an hour Duval and his sister may return, and if they find us we are lost. At present they have no idea that I have any knowledge of the plot, still less that th© document is in my possession.” I took the paper from her hand_ and read rapidly through it, and as I did m 1 gasped when I realised the awful peril Great Britain was in through the machinations of her relentless enemies._ Already the trap was haited into which it was intended we should walk. Yet I was exultant, for, thanks to Oecile Davotte, I held in my hand the proof of the nefarious designs of our foes, which would open the eyes of our Government to the grave danger that threatened them, and enable them to take precautions which ■would render abortive any attack upon the supremacy of England.

“Who is Henri Duval?” I asked Cecile. w. “The man who Avas with me in the cafe. The girl is Iris sister Louise. Ho is a Frenchman, but a traitor to his coun - try—yes, a traitor, and worse than that.” Worse than that! I remembered the lock "of hair, Avhich I still held in my hand, and its ominous stain. “ You mean a murderer?” I said, sternly. She shuddered, and hid her face in her hands. “Oh, do not ask me! I cannot tell you.”

“ But I must know,” 1 replied gravely. “Just before entering the house 1 heard a woman’s scream, and on the floor in this room I picked up this ’ —and I showed her the bloodstained wisp of hair. “There is some mystery here which must be cleared up It seems that a crime has been committed." She turned pale as death, and blue eyes looked appealingly into mine. Oh, why do vou ask me?” she moaned. “Have I 'not said that 1 cannot tell you?” I began to lose patience “Nonsense! I said, sternly. “You must tell me. There is evidence here to show that a woman or girl has been foully done to death. You must tell me what you know, or I shall not know what to think.” She turned on me almost fiercely. Oh, I know what you are thinking,” she exclaimed, passionately. “ You believe that I am concealing a crime because I am an accessory to it. You think that I gave you that document in a lit of pique with my follow-criminals.” I was surprised at her intuition, and felt somewhat ashamed, for 1 confess that some half-formed idea of the kind had actually crossed my mind. Yet now any suspicions' 1 Hut I may have for a moment entertained were swept away by her manner, for I saw that she was at least innocent of participation in any crime herself. Of that I believed her to be incapable. “No.” I said more gently, “I think you guilty of no crime. Yet cannot you conlido in me? Your life, you say, is m peril; perhaps I can help you. “No.” she said sadly, “I cannot confide in you. ! can reveal nothing of my own peril nor of that’ —and. shuddering again, she -pointed to the gruesome relic in my hand. “ Oh, 1 know appearances are against me, hut 1 can explain nothing; and there is only one way in which you can help me —perhaps obtain my deliverance.” *“ How?” I asked eagerly. “ By giving that document to the King when vou sec him to-morrow! As you saw, the integrity of Belgium is also at stake.” I started. How did she know of my appointment with the King. She noticed my astonishment, and smiled wanly. “ Have I not told you, monsieur, that you have enemies? Yon are watched from day to day, and many of vour intentions are known. And now go-Ago before it is too late. For my sake, for your own, for the sake of our latherlands, go!” How beautiful she looked, as half-appeal-ingly, half-commanding, she raised her arm and pointed to the door I I can see her now—her face flushed, her eyes flashing, and the- gaslight shining on her splendid hair. Overcome by her earnestness. I turned to go. There were still many things I would fain have learnt, hut I saw she would reveal nothing more nor raise the veil of mvstcry that surrounded her. With a word of farewell I thrust the document she had given me into my breast-pocket, and mv hand was already on the doorknob when I heard a sound that made me pause. Footsteps were coming along the passage. I looked at her inquiringly, ami she turned pale as she, too, heard the approaching steps. Then, darting forward, she grasped mv arm. “Quick! ouick!” she whispered. “You must hide.” and began to pull me towards some heavy curtains that were drawn across the window. Scarcely had I concealed myself when the door opened, and Henri Duval appeared. A small slit in the curtain enabled me to see all that passed, and I noticed be glanced qnuklv all .round the room rs lie entered. Cecile Davottc had seated herself in an armchair, and took very little apparent interest in hi- arrival, but I saw a look of suspicion settle on his face as Ids -.dance fell noon her “ I thought T heard von talking with someone." lie said. gazing at her fixedly. T held my breath, hut she did not quail. “Talking to someone!” <be exclaim-d in well-feigned surprise. “ How could T be?” He loeke 1 distrustfully af her. “I could have sworn I heard a man’s voice just 'now.” he said. Site lam died and shrugged her shoulders. «< y Oll probably heard me humming to mvself. All the same, if von won’t believe me. von bad better look under the table or behind the curtain s . Perhaps you might find him.”

It was a bold move, and it deceived him. “Oh, I will take your word for it,” he said, sneeringly. “A saint like you does not have tete-a-tetcs with men,” and he added a coarse jest which brought the blood to her face, and inspired me Avith a tingling desire to step out and chastise him. Yet I knew that to show myself would ruin all, though I A'owed that some day I would repay him for the insult he had offered to Cecils Davotte. Presently the latter looked up at him. “Where is Louise?” she asked. “Never mind,” he answered; roughly. “She will be here directly.” Then silence fell between them again, and he began to pace slowly up and down the room. Again and again he almost touched me as he approached my place of concealment, and I wondered Avhat Avould happen if he did. I cudgelled my brains to devise some means of escape from the house, but could think of nothing feasible. I should have to trust to the coolness and ingenuity of Cecile Davotte. She Avas now calmly reading a book, though I knew her nerves must be on edge lest by sound or movement I should betrav myself.

Presently Duval stopped and faced her. “ Have you thought any more of what I spoke to you about yesterday?”- ho asked. She looked at him contemptuously.

“Have I not already told you that I will never marry you.” she said, “ You need not reopen the question. Scorn rang in her A-oice, and Duval’s brow grew dark as he listened, and the sinister expression Avhich I had noticed on his face in the cafe grew more marked as he answered.

“ Be careful, Mile, Cecile, I am dangerous when. lam roused. Maybe T can compel you to be my wife, whether you wish it or not."

She rose from her chair and faced him. Withering contempt was in her look, but what she would have said I know not, for at that moment the door opened again,

and Louise Duval entered the room. Her brother started away from Cecile when lie heard her, but she saw the movement, and she flung an angry look at him. It struck me then that she apparently had no desire that he should press his suit on Cecile. However, she said nothing, at least on that subject, and when she did speak apprehension at her words drove all thoughts of her probable jealousy from mv mind.

“Who was the man you were "talking to?” she asked her brother. “ I have been talking to no man,” he replied, “though 1 certainly thought I heard Cecile talking to one before I came

“There was one,” Louise declared, positively. “I heard him plainly.” “But she denies it,” said Duval. “I asked her myself.” “ Then she lies,” sa.id Louise, briefly, and sire turned accusingly on Cecile. Once more I held my breath. Would Cecile Davotto’s coolness still stand her in good stead against this new danger? And, looking back on the incident, I believe that it would have, for she was facing the situation bravely, meeting their suspicious gaze unflinchingly, even smiling slightly. Yes. 1 think even now her woman’s wit would have won through had not I myself ruined all—by sneezing. Desperately I tried to keep back the sneeze I felt was coming. In vain; I indeed subdued the sound, hut it was sufficient to betray me. With a quick movement, Louise Duval crossed the floor and drew back the curtain, exposing me to view and to the levelled barrel of her brother’s revolver. The situation was an unpleasant one. I was unarmed, and completely at the mercy of the follow and his weapon. With folded arms, in silence I waited for what might happen. “It seems that I was right,” observed Louise, quietly. Behind his pistol Duval’s face grew livid. “ S’o.” lie said, with ominous calmness. “Cecile Davottc has a lover after all. Now T see why she spurns me. Well. she shall not have him long, for I will shoot him like a- dog. Then I will shoot her too!” With sudden snarling furv he came a stop nearer to me. and. as I watched his unwavering barrel. I felt that mv doom was sealed. And . seal.-d it would have been had not Loibso tan swiftly forward and whispered in his ear. For a moment I thought he woo’d not heed her; but (hen he nodded slightly, and si ill keeping me covered with the pistol began to pour out the foulest abuse on Cecile. f longed to spring upon him. and. indeed, unable to sband his vile slander any longer, should at length have done so. though it meant almost certain death, had not I camrlit a warning glance from Cecile. which hade me pause. Neither Duval nor his sister evident!' - had any suspicion that I knew their secret They (Hit down mv presence in the hoire •o n mere vulgar intrigue hot ween me and C-cile. And. rather than they should suspect otherwise, Cc-ilc was prepared b> al’o'v her honour to he a'-sa'led. She stood now pale to the lies, hut with head s-’nvnfnllv erect, while Duval r-m-ed on. and cycrv word of hv, made me clench mv hands and vnv that, sooner or later, he should nav for them, •every one. Presently, when he crew tir-d of rail big. lie ordered me curtly to walk before him out of the room. I had r.V) option hut. 1 r. obex-; hnf as r went T took one Co look at C.Qle<be was looking aft r tv><> with a curious , V'n-.-ssion on her face—half fear, ha'D”v;d drove me ]>■?• re him down a 'on-* civndor. until we came to a door. This bad" ni'* unlock and na«s f bron-'h ••King me a « ,r g in the back wit!) hi-ni-tol to expedi-o mv movement-!. The d'vor orwrjd imoii a fll -lit of stone steps, down V.-K kill T walked a-iii"-' i Iv, Duval throws?!? a light before us imnt n small f-h'ctiic torch. fhe bottom I saw- we were in a lon-r. dark passage, which struck damn an! cold, and from the walls of which mo is-

ture was dripping. Down this wo also tramped, until at length we came to another door of massive construction, and, like the walls, damp with moisture. Passing through this,l found myself in a kind of dungeon, the air of which was heavy and foetid, the floor being

covered with a thin layer of slimy mud. Duval came no further than the entrance ; but, as soon as I had crossed the threshold, shut and locked the door behind me, leaving me in darkness. I felt in my pockets for a match, hut, t'o my chagrin, found I possessed none. I wondered what he intended to do with me, and how long I should have to remain in tins noiseome den.

Stepping carefully across the slippery floor, 1 suddenly placed my foot on something soft and slimy, which squirmed beneath my boot. Hastily jumping aside, my foot slipped, and I nearly measured my length on the floor. Horror began to assail me. What sort of creature was I shut up with? What was it that had ■wriggled away through the mud from under my feet? Dor a time I stood still, afraid to move lest I might tread upon that thing again ; but presently, my courage returning, I felt carefully round the walls of my prison. They were slime-covered and wet, and hero and there I felt growths of fungus upon them.

How long I remained in that vile place I do not know; but presently I heard a sound like tho gurgling of water, and by and by found that my feet were splashing in it as I walked. At first I could hardly credit it: hut soon, as tho water grew deeper, the dread truth burst upon me.

Water was being let into the cell, and soon I should be drowned like a rat in a trap. Already it was up to my knees, and growing deeper every moment. I raw Duran's plan in imprisoning me here. How many poor wretches. I wondered, had shared the fate so soon to be mine? They say that a drowning man sees all In's past life before him ere the breath leaves his body. On my part, a-s the water grew ever deeper, till at last I had to swim, I only saw the sweet face of Cecils Davotte, and realised that I loved her. And now I should never see her again! It was very hard to die thus, and never look into her wondrous eyes again. Round and round I swam, feeling desperately for some outlet whereby I might escape; but only the smooth walls met my fingers. Once I grasped something that squirmed and wriggled, and flung it from me with a shiver. I knew now that T must be near the roof, and presently, indeed, my head touched it, and I felt that all was over. A last struggle, pressed down into the rising water by the roof, and then the end. For the second time mv head struck the roof, this time sharply, and an inrush of water into my mouth made me gasp. Then a- miracle seemed to happen. The roof opened above my head, and, lantern in hand, I saw Cecile Davotte gazing down into the swirling water. The next moment she had seized my collar, and, with my assistance, had dragged me from the very jaws of death. She had opened a trap-door in the roof of the dungeon, and so had saved me in the very nick of time.

There was no time for explanation, for suddenly behind her appeared the form of Duval. In a flash I had sprung upon him, and in the flickering light of the lantern we fought fiercely.

But I was the stronger man, and, presently, exerting all my strength, I flung him from me His head struck the trapdoor as he fell, and he disappeared into the black depths of the water below. Then, looking down through the door, 1 saw a strange sight. The water was emptying itself from the cell far more quickly than it had entered. Duval’s body was already beyond my reach, and soon it disappeared altogether in a final swirl and rush of the water, and tiic dungeon

as as empty as when I had first stepped

I turned and looked at Coeile, and, our eyes meeting, each read the secret of the other’s heart. “Come,” she said, “I know the way.’’ And together we fled from that accursed house. The next day the document was in the hands of the King of the Belgians, and thence the nows of the Great Plot sped to London and Paris. Energetic measures were taken, and the designs of our enemies were foiled. Duval was discovered to be a notorious forger and swindler as well as a spy. It was also proved that he had enticed more than one person to his house for the purpose of robbing them of their jewellery. The, bloodstained curl I had picked up, and the woman’s scream I had heard, were grim evidence of this. The dungeon in which I had so nearly met my death was a diabolically-worked affair. By pressure of a lever in the house it could be filled with water, thus drowning Die unfortunate occupant. Equally easily it could he emptied, the water pouring out through a large culvert, eventually finding its way to the Diver Seine, carrying with it all traces of Duval’s foul work. Knowing that, f had been Incarcerated in.-re. Cccilo bad secretly gone to a summer-house in the grounds, in the floor of which was the trap-door communicating with the dungeon beneath, and had been just in time to save my life. Duval had apparently come to make certain that I had been drowned, leaving his sister to work the mechanism which emptied flic cellar. Louise Duval was never found, nor was her brother’s body ever seen again. Finding that Cecile and I had escaped, and that Henri had disappeared, she had evidently lied. Both she and her brother had long terrorised Cecilo by threatening her with exposure of a shameful crime of which she was entirely innocent, but which she had no means of refuting. This explains her reluctance to tell me anything when I pressed 1. r.

Now, in happier surroundings, she is gradually forgetting the terror of those dark days in her hfe, when the burden of such terrible secrets lay upon her-

But, as for me, the remembrance of those awful moments in the flooded cellar will always remain with me. They can never be forgotten.