THE NOVELIST.

Otago Witness, Issue 3414, 20 August 1919, Page 54

THE NOVELIST.

[Published bt Special Abhanceuent.]

THE CROOKED MADE STRAIGHT.

By BEN BOLT, Author of " Linked by Peril," "Love Finds the Clue," " The Lifting of the Shadow," etc. CHAPTER XXIII, It was two days later, and the coroner's court having adjourned, Mr Lascelles, John Harland's solicitor,, made his way to the cottage 'hospital to meet Sister Stenhouse and Molly Lisburnej and to give them his impressions of tho inquiry. "The court has adjourned," he said, "for a week—that the police may make further investigations." "Bu'fc what is your impression of the matter, Mr Lascelles?" inquired Molly. "Oh, I'm afraid the case is going badly against Mr Harland, and without the slightest need for it to do so. Certain circumstances are black against him, but I am quite sure that he could render them of little, account if only he would speak. But on some things he remains obstinately silent. For instance, he declined flatly to tell the coroner why he thrashed the dead man—and that refusal, as I could see, told heavily against him in the mind of the country jury. But there are other things in his favour—as the medicajr~evidence., According to the police doctor, Corbettmust have been killed between ten and twelve at night; but the landlord of the Lisburne Arms was able to testify that my client was in his room at eight o'clock, that he spent the hours before bedtime reading, and that so far as the landlord could say he never left the house after that time. Add to that the fact that so far no weapon has been found, that there is nothing incriminating about Mr Harr land's personal belongings, and no reference whatever to him in Corbett's papers, and you will see that, if my client will withdraw his resolve not to speak on certain points, there is a fair chance of the matter .ending in the coroner's court so far as he is concerned; but he won't speak." "You will be seeing him, Mr Lascelles ?" asked Molly'quickly. "Yes,. I have an interview with him to-morrow." " Then take a message from me to him, please. Tell him that I wish him to speak—that ,no matter what or whose name may be involved, I urge him to speak, and to clear himself for my sake." The solicitor looked at her searchingly. "Miss Lisburne," he said, "you know something—you know what was the cause of that quarel?" "No," answered Molly, "Iknow nothing for certain, but I have mv suspicions—l can guess!" "Then I will take your message in the hope that it will prove availing—and if it does not prove availing I will arrange for vou to see and persuade Mr Harland yourself." "Thank yon, Mr Lascelles! We must persuade him to speak somehow." The solicitor rose to so, and. as he passed out of the gate of the hospital was almost knocked down bv a man who came running round the corner. "Sorry, sir," the man explained without stopping, "but it's a matter of life and death." Reaching the door, he pushed vigorously at the bell, and as the maid answered it, he almost shouted, "Is Sister Stenhouse in?" " Yes," answered the maid. " Then say she's wanted un at the Manor at once. Tell her Sir Anthony has had what looks like a stroke, and that as Dr Alnwick is out, we don't quite know what to do for the best." "I'll tell her at once!" said the maid. Sister Stenhouse looked at Mollv. Everv word that had been spoken had reached them through the open window of the quiet room where thev sat. and the girl was very pale. Sister Stenhouse rose from her chair. " You must be brave, Molly! Come, we will go at once!"

The maid's knock sounded,' and as the door opened Sister Stenhouse checked the girl's opening words. "I know," she said. "I heard. I am going to the i\±anor immediately. Molly and she started together, and on the way Sister Stenhouse spoke*but once. " You "have trouble on trouble, Molly, just now; but there will come a change. It cannot always be like this. There's some blue in your sky somewhere." Mollv's only reply wa3 a quick look of gratitude, and she did not speak till they were on the steps of the Manor; then she made a request: " Nora, you VfiU let me see father; you will allow me to help you. - I do not think I could endure to sit still and fold my hands just now. I must do something." "T can understand that," said the nurse sympathetically. "Certainly you shall help me until Dr Alnwick arrives, when no doubt a couple of nurses will be sent for. Bui you must not be unduly alarmed at your father's appearance. These attacks sometimes look worse than they are." It was as well that Molly had that warning, for the sight of her father, lying unconscious, with flushed face and breathing stertorously, was a very alarming one to anyone who loved him. As thev entered the room, her step-mother hurried to meet the nurse. • "Oh, Sister Stenhouse," she said, in a hard voice, " how .glad I am that you have come. - Tell me—what is the matter with Sir. Aanthony?" A single glance at the unconscious man told the nurse's experienced eyes what the trouble was. " Sir Anthony has had an apoplectic seizure," was the reply. "Will he die? Will Ije die?'.' asked Lady Lisburne sharply. " That I cannot tell—it all depends on the severity of the attack. He may recover in a little time if the attack is only slight, or he may ; be permanently incapacitated if he does not die." "You mean that he might lose the use of his limbs ?'' " Yes, or his speech or his reason. No one can ever tell ; how these lesions in the brain will affect the' victim of them." " His speech?" asked Lady Lisburne quickly. " You mean that he might not be ab|e to talk." "He might never speak clearly again." Lady Lisburne stood considering this information, and to the watching nurse it seemed as if she were calculating something. But she said nothing further until the sister asked a ; question: "How did it happen, Lady Lisburne?" "Quite suddenly," was the reply. "But Sir Anthony has been much worried of late, and has suffered from headaches. We were discussing something, rather energetically I am afraid, for there was a difference of opinion between us on the matter in question, and "quite suddenly Sir Anthonv put his hand to his head, cried out, and then collapsed." The nurse nodded, " Yes," she said, "that is not an unusual course." Lady Lisburne turned away, and stood looking out of the window for a moment. When she turned round again she gave one swift 'glance at her step-daughter across the roorri, then quickly, in a low tone, she asked another question: "Sister Stenhouse, you understand these cases, and I know nothing whatever about them. Tell me, if Sir Anthony becomes conscious again, will he remember the matter which we were discussing when the seizure overtook him?" " There is no reason why he should not, if the mind is not affected." "Is that so?" As Lady Lisburne asked the question it seemed to the Sister that there was a flash of apprehension on her hard, handsome face. One instant it was there, *and the next it was gone; but it left an uncomfortable impression on__the nurse's mind. Lady Lisburne was'afraid. What was she afraid of? Of something which she and her husband had been discussing when the fit had overtaken him. That much seemed quite clear, but what the thing was only Lady Lisburne and. her unconscious husband knew. Time and time again, after the doctor had been and had departed, as she sat with Molly by the side of her patient, she found herself wondering over the matter, and finally mentioned it to her friend. Molly listened quietly, but offered no comment, and Nora was driven to question her. "Assuming mv impression was nob a mistaken one, Molly, have you any idea why Lady Lisburne should be afraid of your father remembering what they had been discussing?" Molly, who had her own opinion on the matter, and who was convinced that it had to do with the restitution to John Harland, which she had urged, shook her head. "One can on.lv guess! And guess-work is whollv unreliable." And the truth of that utterance was proved in the small hours of the following morning, when Sir Anthony passed from the state of coma to consciousness of the world about. The nurses for whom Dr Alnwick had telegraphed had failed to arrive, and Sister Stenhouse and Molly were watching the sick man, when, just as the change in his condition took place, Ladv Lisburne entered the room. She stood by his bedside with ill-concealed anxiety showing in her face—anxiety that became apprehension when the sick man's eves encountered her, and immediately shone with some strong feeling. He threw the one arm that was unaffected forward., and suddenlv strove to. speak. Then it became apparent that his speech was affected, for what issued from his lips was a hoarse jumble of sound thnt conveyed nothing of his mind to those who heard it- Instantlv the apprehension on his wife's face gave place to relief. She stenped forward. "Anthony," she said soothingly, "you must not excite yourself. Do not try to talk. Lie as quiet as Von can ; for exertion and excitement are bad for you."

As she spoke she placed one hand soothingly on the arm outside the b.ed-clothcs. Instantly the sick man threw it off, and on his face came a strange look of repulsion. He tried to speak again, his eyes fixed upon her, but though the sounds he made were more distinct there was no meaning in them—at least none that the hearers could grasp. The sick man was visibly exciting himself, and Sister Stenhouse interfered. " Lady Lisburne, you are doing Sir Anthony no good, and as for the present he is my patient I am afraid that I must ask you to leave the room." " I shall do nothing of the kind," answered the older woman sharply. "A wife's place is by her husband, and I may remind you that I have more right to be here than anyone." "Then please remove a part of the room where your husband cannot see. Your presence, as you cannot fail to perceive, disturbs and excites him; and excitement is positivelv dangerous for him. It may bring on a further attack, and that might prove fatal." A mutinous look came oh Lady Lisburne's face; but, evidently realising that she could not refuse to accede to the nurse's very reasonable suggestion, she moved to the other end of the long room, out of range of her husband's vision. There she. walked to and fro, rapidly and noiselessly, a look of deep concern on her face, very evidently racked by consuming anxieties. When she disappeared from view, . Sir Anthony became quieter, but his unaffected hand plucked restlessly at the coverlet, and his brow was creased in an effort of concentration. Watching him anxiously, the nurse saw that his lips were constantly moving as if he were trying to articulate to himself, and twenty minutes later from the poor twisted mouth came a single word: You." It was hoarse and hollow in tone—a dead;- flat; sepulchral note that sounded strangely in the stillness of the long room ; and as it reached her Lady Lisburne moved swiftly forward. As she came in view her husband, the look of consternation on his sick face grew more intense. A sudden light oi accusation leapt in the bleared eyes, and the hand on the coverlet was raised and pointed at her. " You-u—You—ki-killed—Corbett!" -^ As the sick man's hoarse, sepulchral voice broke on the stillness of the room, his wife called out in sharp appeal: "Anthony! Anthony!" The arm dropped back on the coverlet, and the sick eyes closed; and for perhaps five seconds the three women stood confronting each other; then Lady Lisburne laughed nervously, harshly. "Of course, he. is raving!" she cried shrilly. " N-no!" came the sepulchral voice from the bed. For one moment the accused woman stood there defiantly and challenging; then her self-possession suddenly failed her, and, turning swiftly, she fled from the room. ' CHAPTER XXIV. Nora Stenhouse looked first at her patient whose eyes had closed, and who was lying very still, and then, seeing that there was no immediate need for her services turned to. Molly Lisburne. The girl stood there with horror in her face, and with something like terror in her eyes, which were staring-into vacancy. " Molly," she began, " Molly " The girl's eyes ceased to look into vacancy and met her's with an appealing, questioning look. " I ani afraid that—that it is true!" said the nurse, in answer to that wordless question. "Lady Lisburne was afraid of that accusation all the time. That is why she was so anxious to know if your father would remember, and why she insisted on remaining here. She hoped to prevent him speaking." Molly made no reply. The horror in her face grew, and the terror still shone in her eyes. Her friend watched her for a moment, and then she spoke again. " Molly you must go to her—you must find her at once. Her state of mind must be terrible, and there are all sorts of possibilities in the situation.*' The girl suddenly hid her face in her hands. "Oh," she sobbed, "it is terrible! I I am afraid!" ' 'Then if you cannot go —I will! But one of us must find her without delay. She—-" " I will go!" cried Molly. "You remain here with my poor father. He may need you, and you know what to do. I don't. She moved towards the door, her face white and drawn. When she reached it she looked back at the sick man lying on the bed, as if there she might find strength for the ordeal that lay before her, then she passed from the room, and presently was standing outside the door of her step-mother's boudoir. For a moment she hesitated, and then knocked timidly. "Yes !" said Lady Lisburne's voice within At that she "opened the door, and passed inside. Her step-mother was seated in front of a devonport, arranging-some loose sheets of paper before her. Her face was very pale, and her dark eyes glittered strangely, but manner was quite composed, and her voice was quite even as she addressed her step-daughter. "Well, Molly," she said calmly, "you heard your father! What have you come to me for?" "Oh," cried the girl in a broken voice, " I have come to help you—to " "No one can help me except myself," answered her step-mother, with a calm that to the girl had something terrific about it. "There are some situations in life where one stands fl utterly alone, and this is one of them." » " But—but " "Oh, I know you. feel for me. I know it, and I do not deserve it! You can do nothing for me! There is only one way open to me, and that is the old Roman way." " The old Roman way?" cried Molly, to whom the reference was obscure. "Yes ! I think I have the strength of will

to take it. Thank heaven, I was never a weakling. But you must not interrupt me, Molly. I have several things to do before morning, and a confession to write "A confession!" said Molly brokenly. "Of course! It is true what your father said. I killed Rufus Corbett —and, believe me, he deserved his death a dozen times. He blackmailed me—pressed me too far, and—well, you know. But I want to leave a clean bill behind. I should not like that sweetheart of yours to get into still deeper waters on my account. So —I am going to clear him. Now run away, there's a good girl—and if you like" —she glanced at the ormolu clock on the mantelpiece—"if you like you can come back in three hours' time and kiss me." "Oh!" sobbed Molly. "We have not been very affectionate, have we?" continued the .older woman quietly. "I do not think that you have kissed me willingly since first I married your father—but I should like to think that at the last, you —you " .Her voice shook suddenly, and she raised her hand, and then as if afraid of losing control of herself she spoke harshly. " You must go now, Molly! You really must go! I want to be alone." Not knowing what else to do her stepdaughter turned and left the room, softlyclosing the door behind her. There for a moment she stood, shaken by bitter sobs; then, controlling "herself a little, she returned slowly to her father's room. As she entered, Nora Stenhouse looked her her, marked the trouble' in her face, and then moved swiftly to her. " Molly—did she speak?" " Yes! It is true! She is going to write a confession." "A confession! And after " "I do not know. I can only and my guess is a terrible one. She spoke of the old Roman way, and said that she had the strength to take it." "Ah'!" said Nora Stenhouse, and for a little time she stood there in deep though't. Then she spoke again. "I do not think we can interfere, Molly," she said gently. "Anything that we can do would probably be useless, and if it were not it would not-save her from pain and disgrace—perhaps worse. On the most merciful judgment of her deed she would have to go to Broadmoor or some such place, and« a criminal lunatic asylum would be worse than death—far worse for her. I—l—think we must let her—make her own choice." "Oh, but it is terrible! —terrible!" sobbed Molly. The minutes passed -with leaden feet. Crouched in a chair, her face hidden in her hands, Molly Lisburne waited and waited. Except for the occasional movement of Nurse Stenhouse as she attended to, her patient, no sound disturbed the quietness of the great house. At last the girl lifted her face, and looked at the clock. It marked the hour of five, and the three hours had passed. The girl stood to her feet, and moved tremblingly towards the door. ''Where are you going, Molly?" asked Sister Stenhouse. "To her," said Molly, brokenly. "It is three hours ago, and I —l promised." Sister Stenhouse 'flashed a quick glance at her patient. He had fallen into a doze, and was not likely to need her services for a little time. * "I will come with you," she said quietly. "You must not go alone, Molly." Together they' went to Lady Lisburne's boudoir, and knocked gently on the door. There was no response, and opening the door, Sister Stenhouse stepped inside, followed by Molly. The boudoir was empty, but placed in a conspicuous position on the mantelpiece \ were three letters, one addressed to Molly the second to her father, and the third to th e local coroner. For a moment they stood looking at them, then Molly took the one addressed to her and thrust it in the bosom of her dress.

There was an inner door to the room, •which led to th e bedroom, and turning to this, the nurse knocked gently. There was no response, and after waiting a moment she turned the handle. The door opened, and they passed inside together. By the light of the summer dawn stealing in through the undrawn curtains, they saw Lady Lisburne lying in her bed, one hand outside the coverlet, apparently, sleeping peacefully. Her eyes were closed, her face was perfectly calm, but apparently it had sharpened in outline and had •a waxen look. On a small table close to the bed was an empty glass. The nurse took it up and smelt it, then she turned to the figure on the bed, and touched the hand outside the clothes. It was quite cold. Q She looked at Molly, and "n 'answer to her mute question nodded her head. "Yes." Molly, with streaming eyes, stooped and kissed the cfead woman, who had had the strength to take this hard way unafraid; and then, falling on her knees by the bedside, began to pray silently. / Sister Stenhouse stood for a moment looking down on the once hard, handsome face, now softened by the gentle hand of death, then also slipped to her knees. The light of dawn broadened in the room above the bent heads of the kneeling pair. Outside a thrush broke suddenly into full-throated song, filling the silent room with an almost intolerable sweetness, and the great world, unrecking of this pitiful human tragedy of a sinful soul, woke fo its busy, workaday life. (To be concluded.)