THE SECRET FOE.

Otago Witness, Issue 3327, 19 December 1917, Page 54

THE SECRET FOE.

THS WOVKT.TST.

[Published by Special Aeeangement.]

Br EDGAR PICKERING, Author of "The 'Falconhufst Mystery," "Love, the Conqueror," "Murder Will Out," etc., etc. [Copyright.] . CHAPTER XllL—(Continued.) The formal proceedings began, but he had no ears for them. He was being accused of murdering Jacob Orme, and the charge was too grotesque to be seriously entertained in his mind. It was a farce —the tragedy was that the woman he had believed to be pure and tr,ue had deceived him and shattered his faith for evermore. Inspector Joyce was giving his evidence, and Neville forced himself to listen! '

"Upon information received," said the inspector, "I made inquiries regarding the prisoner's movements . on' the night of the murder. He was known to have had a dispute with Orme, and had threatened him. In consequence, I caused the prisoner to be watched, and in performance of my duty had him charged.". The old butler at Netherclifi'e repeated the evidence he had given at the inquest. It proved nothing more than it had then, and he stepped down, giving Neville a compassionate glance in passing to his seat; and a brief delay in the proceedings ensued. i

Then a hum of expectation came from the body of the court, for Amy was standing in the witness-box, white with despair, yet her voice did not falter. She had looked at Neville once, and' for an instant her courage failed as she confronted the prosecuting counsel, who stood swinging his gold eyeglasses to and fro easily. "I believe you and the prisoner were engaged to be married, Miss Goodwin," he began, as if the question were of very little moment. "That is so?" "Yes."

"Now, will you tell the court," he continued, "the circumstances connected with the evening of the seventeenth of last month. That is not very long ago, and your memory is clear, I make no doubt," and he paused for her answer. "Mr Strange came to the house. I expected him. There is nothing more I can tell you." "Just think again. Were his manner and appearance as usual?" "His face had been hurt, and I bathed it." "Did he explain how it cam* to be hurt?" "He had been struck, he said." "Anything about "a quai'rel with this man, Jacob Orme?" • "I understood that Mr Neville had been angry with him/' answered Amy. "At what time did the prisoner leave the house?" "I am not sure." "Did he refer to the dispute or quarrel with this man, Orme, at any other period of the evening, or show any animosity towards the poor fellow?" "I don't understand what you mean," replied Amy. "Mr Neville did not speak of him again. I think he disliked my asking him any questions." "Very possibly," was the counsel's dry remark. \

The ordeal seemed endless, and as she stood, a mark for every eye, Adelaide gloated over her distress. But the pitiless examination ended at last, and she was only conscious of Neville's frigid look as she sank to her seat.

The inspector gave a satisfied glance at

the Bench, priding himself that he had achieved a notable triumph in tracking the murderer of Jacob Orme, and the magistrates quitted the court to consider their decision. Mortimer was whispering something to Adelaide, who answered by a sneering laugh; and in the body of the court people were settling Neville's fate. A few doubted his guilt, but someone had to be hanged, explained others, and the prisoner was more likely to be the one than anybody else. The magistrates had returned, and a dead silence followed the hum of talk. Neville was standing erect, facing them, almost indifferent to the result of their consultation.

Amy had testified against him, and her very calmness condemned her. "Wo have given careful attention to the evidence produced in this case," said the old chairman, "and our decision is that it is not strong enough to warrant a committal. The prisoner iis discharged." Neville heard the mumbled words with the same cold indifference *he had maintained throughout the long proceedings. But he had noticed Mortimer's malignant interest in the case, and Adelaide's sneering face; but these were forgotten when he looked at Amy. She was waiting whilst the chattering throng streamed out of the court, and had made him an imploring gesture when he stepped from the dock; but it wis not heeded, and the next moment she was alone, except for two or three of the officials. Then Mortimer came out of the magistrates' room, and was speaking to her. "Will you bo advised by me, Miss Goodwin?" he said. "You have had very unpleasant experience, and would be glad to get back to Mrs Meadows quickly. My car is at the door, and you will escape that gaping crowd in the street if I drive you home." "Yes, I'll come," replied Amy wearily. "It doesn't matter now."

Gone was the brightness he had admired so often in her mobile face. Gone tho trustful look in her eyes, and the charm of her dimpled cheeks. The highspirited girl had become a woman suddenly, whose set features and firm voice betokened a resolution that only death could conquer. "You must try and forget what has happened," said Mortimer, as they drove away. "I feel very sorry for Strange —more-sorry for you, and if anything I can do will make matters easier, you may depend on me." '

"Neville believes I have been untrue to him. That I had a reason for his being arrested. He'll always think that until I'm able to prove he was wrong. And if it means giving up my life to do so, I'd die gladly. I will do anything, dare anything that people may think or say, if it's to prove how innocent I am." "You will want help to do this. Will you let me«be your helper, Amy? Forgive me for' using your name. Only think of me as a sincere friend, and you will forgive me." "Why should I mind?"

"You make me more desirous of showing my friendship by saying that," and he gave her a tender glance; but Amy's set look did not relax. "You will know me better presently," he added. The car had stopped at Mrs Meadows's door, and he held out his arms to assist her to alight, retaining her in his grasp for a moment. It was an embrace that she made no effort to resist, and his sardonic smile followed her as she entered the house. CHAPTER XIV.—MR HUNCOTE HAS AN UNPLEASANT EXPERIENCE. Upon leaving 'the court Mr Huncote made his way to Joe Palmer's farm,' finding him in the kitchen, and in a more aggressive mood than usual. "I had your letter, Palmer," he said, "and I have' also seen the girl Amy. She has grown up remarkably good-looking." "Ah!" growled Palmer. "Her husband would like to know presently wnat I can tell him." "I am of opinion," continued Mr Huncote blandly, "that the wedding will not take place. At least, I shouldn't like to marry a woman done her best to get me hanged. Mr Strange is of my way of thinking, I fancy, judging from his manner in the dock." "There's others that might be told," replied the farmer. "Which would be killing the aolden goose, .ray friend, and you Avon't be so foolish to do that. I am prepared to make you an offer —a very generous offer, too, which you can consider. You have certain docuittents in your possession, and how you ever got them passes ray under standing. Well, I will give you' £2OO if you hand them over to me." " "You know what I want." "You asked for £SOO, which is altogether too absurd, Palmer. You can have £2OO as I said now—it's far more than the papers are worth, and I don't know that I've anything further to saw But please not to write me any more blackmailing letters, or we shall fall out. I don't like them." He was pemive when walking hack to Monkstown, thinking of another visit he had to pay. Mr Mortimer had to be seen, and coming to the road leading to Ncthercliffe he stepped aside to allow a motorcar to pass. It had drawn up suddenly, and he waved a black-gloved hand,at the driver. "You have saved mo a Mr Mortimer," he cried. "I was coming to have a word with von."

"Then you had better get into the car," replied Mortimer almost angrily. "What in the fiend's name brought you hero? I saw you in the court this morning." "Well, to tell the truth, I -was curious to see how the case went. Orme's murder interests me. Nothing ' could have happened more fortunately. You agree with me as to that. It is a danger out of the way—a great danger." "I'm sick of hearing about Orme," replied Mortimer, savagely. "Is that all you wanted to say?" "Not quite," answered Mr Huncote,

placidly. "I've a little matter of business to talk over with you. I had a visit from Orme a short time since. He wanted half the Nethercliffo estates. True, he was drunk, but it showed a grasping nature, I thought."

Mortimer's face was dark as a thundercloud, but he made no reply. "There is no telling what the fellow might have done," continued Mr Huncote, and then he gave a terrified start. "Pardon me, Mortimer, but you are driving at a dangerous speed," he exclaimed. Mortimer laughed grimly as the car dashed down hill, leaping* and lurching. They were approaching a sharp turn in the road, but the speed was not reduced, and Mr Huncote clutched the side of the car spasmodically. "For heaven's sake, go slower!" he shouted, the wind seeming to snatch tJie words out of his lips. He could see the lop of a laden waggon, and hear the rattle of harness, coming round the corner, and at that point the road narrowed. Mortimer paid no heed to his frantic warning, and the next moment the car had spun round the bend, making straight for the heavily-laden wain. The vision of a dreadful death which would happen in an instant—of being a mangled corpse, flashed through Mr Huncote's brain, but all else was a blurred picture of struggling horses as the waggoner thrust them against the hedge—of a demon beside him crouched over the driving wheel, together with distracting sounds and thoughts as tangible as sight, until everything vanished amid the crash of splintering woodwork, and he was lying half-stunned upon the damp earth, trying to regain his senses. Mortimer was standing over him, locking down at the lawyer's prostrate form with a frown.

"You were lucky in coming down in a ploughed field, Huncote," he said with a harsh laugh. "Can you get up?" ."I don't know," replied Mr Huncote, faintly, but he managed to get to his knees. "What has happened?" "You've had a narrow escape of- being killed," answered Mortimer. "We caught the -wheel of the waggon." Mr Huncote had succeeded in rising to his feet, and accepted Mortimer's assistance to a gate in the hedge. The demoniacal look on the latter's face was there still, and the memory of that awful drive gave Mr Huncote a shudder. "If you had wanted to kill me, Mortimer," he said, reproachfully, "you couldn't have tried better."

"Well, dead men tell no tales," and Mortimer laughed mirthlessly. "Anyway, you're alive. The car is smashed, and I advise you to go back to Monkstown." He had escaped unhurt himself, but Mr Huncote was bruised to such an extent that his walk into the town —for nothing would have induced him to his journey to the Hall—was slow and painful to a degree. After a prolonged rest on the gate, from whence he had a view of the wrecked car, feeling greatly relieved by Mortimer's walking away, he began his toilsome return to Monkstown. "The scoundrel meant to kill me! I'm convinced that was his intention," he muttered. "Orme's gone, and 'dead men tell no tales,' he said that, the villain; but there will come a. time of reckoning*, Mr Mortimer." CHAPTER XV. NEVILLE LEAVES NETHERCLIFFE. Sir Charles Mortimer had always had a warm place in his heart for Neville, whose manly, independent spirit compared >-with Mortimer's was to the latter's disadvantage. His sympathy with him under the circumstances of his arrest and appearance before the magistrates was sincere, and his indignation had .been aroused against the unknown enemy who had brought these events about. He was,-thinking about them one morning when Mrs Templemore and Adelaide were announced, and although they were the last persons he cared to see, he welcomed them with his old-fashioned politeness. "We felt bound to call," began Mrs Templemore, effusively. "For you must have been dreadfully upset by what has happened, dear Sir Charles." "I am very sorry for Strange," was the reply! "No one in their senses would believe him capable of a crime." ,"oh, but just look at the suspicions. Adelaide goes about a great deal and—well, tell Sir Charles what you'ive heard, my dear." "People think that Mr Strange has been extraordinarily lucky," answered Adelaide. "In what way, may I ask?" said Sir Charles. "The general belief is that he may have killed Orme in a moment of passion," replied Adelaide, calmlv. "They had quarrelled and fought. That was not denied, and it is only reasonable to conclude that Mr Strange wished to be-revenged. Even the woman we understand he was to marrv gave her evidence to prove that." , "Certainly," and Mrs Templemore gave an "approving nocl. 'I think you must agree with what Adelaide says, Sir Charles."

"I can form my own conclusions, madam," answered the old man, quietly. "We are only voicing the general opinion," she continued: "I set very little value on general opinion," retorted Sir Charles, drily. "I have always found Mr Strange to be an honourable man, and, whatever other people's opinions may be, it will not alter mine. I believe he is the victim of slander and gossip." Adelaide gave a scornful little laugh. "Mr Strange must feel his position, one would think. He can scarcely remain here to be regarded as a murderer. Nobody could have assurance enough to do that." The hatred rankling in her breast was betrayed by this remark, and Sir Charles brought the visit to an abrupt termination. She had overdone her part, and by so doing increased his indignation against Neville's enemies; but it opened his eyes to the truth of the situation. Mrs Temple-

more would have continued the conversation, but the change in Sir Charles's tone caused her to desist.

"I consider that you only said . what was quite right, Adelaide," she said, as they drove away from the Hall. "Sir Charles did not like it, lam afraid. He is prejudiced." '"'lt is what a- good number of people will be told/' replied .Adelaide. "I wonder what that wretched woman thinks whom he is going to marry?" "She is a very shameless person, if ever there was one," answered Mrs Templemore. From Nethercliffe they drove to Mrs Berryby-Smythe's, where other callers were met and the murder discussed. No one said a word in Neville's defence, for everyone felt aggrieved that he had not been sent to take his trial crime. "The man is certainly guilty," exclaimed one of the ladies, in a tone that defied the world to deny her, and, having thus settled the matter for ever, she bustled away after imprinting a kiss on Mrs Berryby-Smythe's enamelled cheek. Meantime Neville was occupied in bringing his duties at the Hall to a. conclusion, having decided on resigning his post. He had not come in contact with Mortimer, studiously avoiding a meeting which would certainly have been unpleasant. For Amy, his thoughts were of her defenceless position; but she had chosen her lot, and he fought against any tenderer recollection. had come when he was to say farewell to Nethercliffe, and he went into the- library to announce his departure. "You will find everything ready for my successor," he told Sir Charles. "I no reason why you should leave me, .Neville," replied the old man.- "You have done excellently well, and I am more than satisfied." "I am looked upon as a pariah. People will always believe I am guilty. Not that I care over-much about that. There are other reasons for my going~away." "You've an enemy somewhere. The women are against you, with ,their poisonpus tongues," exclaimed Sir Charles, vehemently. "But you will always find me on your side. I shan't forget your services, nor fail to reward them. I'm honestly grieved you are going. We mustn't lose sight of each other." "I very much regret, leaving Nethercliffe," replied Neville, "but it is impossible for me to remain." "I see that," answered Sir Charles. "I shouldn't care to stay myself -if I had been treated as you have. There is only one question I should like to ask. Your marriage '' Neville interrupted him with a hard laugh. "That will never be," he said,, although the thought of Amy and the ruin of his faith in her brought almost a physical 'pain. "Have you any plans?" asked Sir Charles after a pause. "None at present," replied Neville. "I go back to London this evening, and shall wait there for a short.time." "I should be glad if you. will call on Huncote," went on Sir Charles. "I heard that he was in Monkstown, and am surprised he did not come to Nethercliffe." He would not have wondered if he had seen Mr Huncote limping to the station after his exciting drive with Mortimer. He was certainly not in a fit condition for calling at the Hall, and his firm conviction was that Mortimer had purposely designed the accident. -Neville quitted Nethercliffe later in the day, and soon after arriving in London he went to Bedford Row. "Mr Huncote hasn't come to the office this morning, sir," said Armstrong, with a look of concern. "I doubt if I shall be able to come again," replied Neville. "I have left the Hall, as you may know." "I've heard what has happened, sir. And I'm very soi*ry. You'll pardon my mentioning it. We* had that Mr Orme at the office. He seemed a dreadful man, in my opinion, Mr Strange." "What brought him here? Did Huncote know, him?" "They had some sort of business to talk over, sir. Mr Huncote was angry with him." / "The man knew Mr Mortimer. What did it all mean, Armstrong?" "Villainy, sir, villainy," and Peter brought his hand down on the desk with a ban£. "And there's more of it going on, unless I am very much mistaken." "Not an unusual thincr to happen in a lawyer's office," replied Neville. . "He's rierht," muttered Peter when left alone. "There's villainy a-foot against Miss'Goodwin, but I'll crush it. Huncote's a villain, and I'll dare him, come what may." (To be Continued.)