THE Flambards Mystery

Sun (Christchurch), Volume I, Issue 182, 7 September 1914, Page 2

THE Flambards Mystery

By Sir William Magnay, Bt.

[copyright.]

CHAPTEE X. (Continued.) WHAT DID DAVID GELSTON SEE? "Yes. The animal was whining and limping, probably just by the gate, and iinable in its maimed state to get to the house. Mr* Gelston naturally opened the gate, and then, seeing how severely jthc dog was hurt, moved him to a convenient spot, took out his matchbox and. struck a light to examine the injury. He lighted several matches one after the other, the remains of which 3ay in a sheltered corner a few yards •within the gate. "Having ascertained the dog's leg broken, he carried him to the, Aiouse, but at the front door could make .Wo one hear. There is no knocker, and the bell-handle hangs some feet from the side of the doorway, half-hidden in |he ivy growing over the porch. He Struck several matches in order to find it, but there was a fair-, breeze that evening, and they must have all been blown out as soon as lighted in -that exposed place. Failing to make himself |iea*rd there, Mr Gelston, still carrying the dog, wandered round the house till v he came to the dining-room window. There is a gap between'the curtains—they are none too wide for the window f-and through that opening he saw something— a sight which held him to the spot and would account for the physical and mental condition in whieh he reached '.The George.' Of all that I am pretty certain; beyond it there is at present only conjecture." '{ ' ," But how,'' I exclaimed in wonder, . * ' do you know all this ? " vEolt laughed. "Easily enough, my dear sir. It has been a very simple piece of detective work so far. This is the key to it." He to»k from his pocket a small article which he' carelessly handed to me. I knew it at once. A silver matchbox, "a present from me to David Gelston, engraved with his monogram.' "So far," I answered, returning the box. "I hope my recognising it will do/Gelston no harm. ! I gave it to him." f I No- harm in the world," Eolt- assured me, '' according to my view of the, case. You see'it contains only one match, stuck in tightly between the spring ,chamber and. the . side. The inaich is of the same kind as those found in the drive-three parts burnt, -where Mr Gelston examined ,the dog, and the, others, lighted and not burnt, on the gravel outside the porch. "With ,the dog and his walking-stick to carry lie "must-have missed the opening of his pocket when he thought to put the ease back, and it fell on to the flower border, where it lay hidden under a plant •till I found it."

Author of "The Heiress of the Season," The Red Chancellor," " The Master Spirit." etc,

"That is pretty convincing evidence," I commented, wondering uneasily what part my friend could have played in that evening's tragedy. "That Mr Gelston carried the dog round to the dining-room window," Eolt continued dispassionately, summing up his collected evidence, "is plain, not only from the fact that the animal, which was unable to move of itself, was found some time later by Mrs Oram outside the window, but also' from the deep imprint of a man's feet on the mould just beneath it. The marks indicate that he stood facing the window, just opposite the gap in the curtains, without doubt looking in upon a sight that so upset him as to change his appearance in such a degree that it struck everyone who saw him, and to fill him with a desire to get away from the neighbourhood. as soon as possible. Now, Mr Crofton, we want to know exactly what your friend saw.'' As he concluded, Eolt leaned back in the chair smoking quietly. The tone of his last words had in it a calm peremptoriness which forbade objection. "Naturally," I responded, rather sick at the thought of what I might have let Gelston in for. "Of course he must tell you; it is unlikely he will make any difficulty, about that,\'' Eolt smiled confidently. '' He will owe it to himself, at least to make a frank, statement." -....-... I understood the; grim, suggestion behind the words. "What rather puzzles me— —" I began, and then stopped, fearful, where my friend's interest was concerned, of saying the wrong thing. Eolt, with his marvellous power of intuition, had divined my thoughts and completed the sentence. "Is that he did not make any statement to you." "Exactly." ~ 1 ' That is not altogether surprising,'' he replied. "The- eit'ent of a, shock of horror on the mind varies in different people. Some/men - are compelled to blurt it out, however injudiciously; others can't bear to think, much less speak, of it. And there may have been another reason.',' I looked at him in sharp enquiry, but he did not seem disposed to amplify the last rather ominous words, and somehow I could not bring myself to ask an explanation of thein. Then, with a sudden rousing from his easy attitude, he tossed his cigarette end into the fire and rose. • "It means," he said,, in the quick, resolute tone of a man of action, "that we must have Mr Gelston down here at once. I have already taken the liberty of wiring to him that you must see him without delay. Now, in ease lie should, for reasons we .may easily conjecture, t not be inclined to act on the telegram, I want you to be good enough to send

him an express letter by to-night's post, telling him it is absolutely necessary that he should the first possible train down here. Of course, I could go and interview him in town, but I have particular reasons for not leaving this neighbourhood just now." I accordingly sat down and wrote, more or less at Rolfs dictation, a strong and diplomatic letter to Gelston, pointing out that it was imperatively necessary for him to come down at once, and telling him to wire as he started. Bolt undertook to get the letter '' expressed," and left me with a reminder as to absolute secrecy. I naturally spent a troubled night, worrying over th« possibility of my friend being unpleasantly involved in this horror, and restlessly impatient for the hours to pass, and my doubts to be quieted. The early post brought nothing from Gelston, and it was not until nearly noon that the expected telegram was handed to me. It contained the bare announcement:— "Arriving Morningford Eoad 5.37. Gelston."

CHAPTEE XI. DAVID GELSTON TELLS HIS STOEY. I at once let Eolt know the contents of the telegram, and then, as nothing further could be done till the arrival of the 5.37, I set myself to go on with my work in the chapel, and stuck to.it till the time arrived to meet Eolt according to appointment, and to go with him to the railway station. The first passenger to alight from the. train was my friend. My anxious glance at his face told me that he was looking better than when we had parted a few days before, but there was in his eyes a nervously apprehensive expression, which made me feel sorry for what I had unwittingly brought upon him. ' - I introduced. Eolt, and was glad that the* detective 'a first words and manner !were\i>f a reassuring nature. " I am very sorry indeed to have [ brought you down in a hurry like thisj Mr Gelston, and in ungenial weather, but no doubt you have guessed that we are faced by a tough problem here, and I have reason to think you can be of great help to us. Now, we need not say any more on the subject till we are .comfortably settled at ' The George.' " We rolled off in the omnibus, Eolt seeming to make a point of keeping up an amusing flow of light talk and good | stories all the way to the town. Arrived at the hotel, we had tea, and then settled down to serious business. By a taeit arrangement I opened the subject. " • You know, my dear David, that Mr Eolt, if he will let me say so to his face, is a wonder-worker in the matter of finding out what happened when he wasn't there. He has discovered that you must be in a position to, tell him something of what occurred at Flambards on Monday evening last." "I? What can I tell you?" Gelston returned, with a not very successful effort to hide an obvious nervousness. Eolt took up the talk. "Something of possibly great importance, if you will,'' he answered. suavoly. "I ask you to tell me this, in coiifidence,. so far. as is compatible with the rights of law and justice. When you had taken the disabled dog to the -front door of "Flambards; had failed, to make yourself heard, not being able to find the bell,

and had therefore carried the animal round to the dining room window, where an opening in the curtains allowed you to look into the want you to tell me exactly what you saw.'' Gelston's face, as Bolt's astonishing speech proceeded, exhibited more and more .surprise, till at the end he - was staring at the detective almost aghast. I judged it well to put in a word. "Mr Rolt has explained to me how he found out all this," I said, smiling, "and, like a conjuring trick, it seems quite simple when you are shown how it is done. You will agree with me when you hear the solution of the mystery." Gelston tried to reciprocate my smile, but it was a ghastly failure. "I don't know," he began, then stopped, at an evident loss as to what he dared say. Rolt proceeded. "Having followed you round to the dining room window,' Mr Gelston, I am brought, as you were, to a dead stop. I know you stood looking into the room, but I don't know what you saw. And that is what I want you to tell us." Gelston stared at his questioner for a moment in a silence of indecision.

Then, as he looked away, he shuddered With that, pulling himself together, In rose and walked to the fireplace "Frankly, Mr Rolt," he said in i firmer voice, "I would rather not tel you.'' ~"I am sure of that," the detectiv< returned blandly; "and you may tak< my word that if I saw my way to d< without it I would not ask you for th( information. But in the interests oi justice, If this crime is to be traced t< its perpetrator it is necessary that yoi should give it." & "I know, I know," Gelston replied in a troubled voice. "I quite under | stand that, and yet I cannot tell you; I cannot say I saw anything." The position was becoming strained, and I saw wjiat seemed like an unpleasant gleam in Bolt's eyes, the look of a resolute man driven to use his strength. "It is obvious,; Mr Gelston," he, said quietly, "you scarcely realise, the position in which accident has placed you. Let me, without in any way'suggesting .unpleasantness,, explain to you how-you stand." "You mean," Gelston put in, with a.laugh of suppressed excitement, "that lam liable.to be arrested as Mr Rixon 's murderer?" / ' ' Hardly -that,'' Bolt replied -with a deprecating smile. '' But by your ref«sal to give evidence which we have proof it is in your power to give, you come perilously neai' to constituting yourself an before or after the fact." > "I daresay," Gelston responded. '' But that,'' Rolt continued -suavely, "is a possibility which I am sure we need not consider. You must be aware that in capital cases like this the law has means to compel a person to give evidence. As a sensible man, however, you-will, I ana sure, see that much more harm than good-is likely to result from your reticence. I am, of course,, supposing that nothing you have io say could incriminate yourself. That is inconceivable. " ■'■-' "It is—-quite out 6f the question," Gelston replied emphatically. His manner suggested an idea to me. I was mystified and annoyed at my friend's refusal to speak out, and it was that feeling which made me say, "You are afraid, though, ,of incriminating someone else. You had better, speak out, David, and trust Mr Rolt. You are not likely to repent it." . • ■<: "I may tell Mr Gelstonjj" Rolt.observed with a touch of indifference, ''that his silence can only delay for a few hours our discovery of what happened. And I would rather ask him to make a statement than resort':to forcing one from Miss Archer." n Whether or jiot .Rolfs, extraordinary penetration had divined my thought, Or whether it had occurred to u« simultaneously, the effect of his words on Gelston was obvious. The'dogged look of refusal gave way to one of something like fear. If it was but a shot, it hit the mark. 7 Gelston stared at Rolt with eyes that seemed vainly trying- to fathom a depth of knowledge and skill beyond his ken. It was on account of . Miss Archer that I have been so reluctant to state what I happened to see,'' he said with hesitating deliberation. v "Clearly," Rolt replied in a matter-of-fact tone. '' But it may perhaps remove your scruples, Mr Gelston, when I tell you that in, my opinion the part played by Miss Archer in the affair was quite innocent and fortuitous." I could not be quite certain whether Rolt was cajoling my friend or not, but inclined to the opinion that he spoke frankly. Gelston seemed to brighten at his words, although he still hesitated. ''Honestly, Mr Gelston, it will be better for you to tell me.all you know; better, particularly, for Miss Archer.": '' Perhaps it, will be," Gelstori responded slowly. He paused a moment is though collefltirig his thoughts," and; ;hen said: '' You seem .to know, Mr Bolt, fwhat led me to turn in" at the gate of Flamsarde —the injured dog. I examined lim and carried him to the house, as >rou guessed, and failing to find means )f making my presence known at the ?ront. door I took the animal—for he seemed disabled and in pain—round the louse, thinking to come upon the servants' quarters. You are quite and wonderfully correct in saying. I came ;o the dining room window and looked xhrouglr the gap in.the curtains, but I im not surprised you stop there; even 70U would scarcely imagine the ghastly tight I looked upon." - (To be Continued.)