In Spite of Evidence

Sun (Christchurch), Volume III, Issue 857, 8 November 1916, Page 2

In Spite of Evidence

[All Rights Reserved.]

|H By LILIAS CAMPBELL DAVIDSON, [US |P Author of "The Missing Finger," "Templed," Etc. pjS

I gives the show is young and —and goodI looking, isn't she!"

aniaruanianjanjaTjanianisnjsiiiaruciJiJcii CHAPTER XXII- (Continued.) TTTF. JADE.

]i' sin l hail expected an indignant denial to her innuendo, she did not gel | it. The young man grinned. "Why, ; hi' course. You've hit it! If she was elderly, anil fat and ordinary, where \l be the fun? It's because she's a lovely being that it's all the more draw. The I man who runs the showM be a fool \( he didn't see to that all right. You don'l ]iay your shilling, or your half-crown, as the case may be, io stare at a ling doing thought-reading!" And the vanquished lady ha-d for once in her life not a word left her. Amused, Vane leant back in his chair, listening to the little sparring match. As lie changed his position, something in Hie small of his Lack made itself felt uncomfortably. Mechanically he put up his hand to move it. It was hard and cold, and,.oblong. Recollection flashed on him. For the moment he had forgotten the jade. Now he remembered with a shock, and with a sudden inspiration a thought Hashed on him: Why not take it to this clairvoyant they were all talking of | If there were anything in her boasted powers couldn't she tell him where it came from, what, was the truth of the tragedy connected with it? His lingers touched it, tightened on it, then he drew away his hand suddenly. Of course, it was all stuff and nonsense. These things were mere trickery, cleverly arranged collusion, exhibitions of practised skill, not of necromancy. What could anyone on earth tell him from the mere touch of that cold, silent jade? It was idiotic to imagine it, and yet.—and yet—his thoughts returned to the idea and dwelt round it with a"peculiar fascination. People began to rise and go, and Vane found himself able to make his escape. Tie thought about it once 'more, as he walked back to his hotel for dinner: Was there anything in those powers of this girl they talked .about, after all? Tf she could tell him anything he longed to know! If—and there his heart, leapt and stirred indeed—she could give him any clue to what had happened with Ce'lia? That, little handkerchief that lay still folded in his dispatch box — that innocent-looking little lace-border-ed handkerchief, from which the violet scent had long, long gone—it was too sacred, wasn't, it, to hand up through a gaping audience and gij£ into the grasp of a vulgar Yet —yet if one could know! Lf one could have the least, knowledge, the faintest clue to that dark, horrible puzzle that for ever compassed him about sleeping or waking like a grisly nightmare! If one could be sure that Celia was not unhappy, if one could have all those horrible doubts set at rest that so long had haunted one. No, she was not guilty! She was innocent —innocent as the day. There was sonic horrible mystery somewhere. If she had gone, with another man, it was because she had cared for him first—lived down her feeling, it might, be, or thought, she had, till he suddenly appeared again before her. Then it had all awakened, sprung upon her like a. man armed and desperate. How could he blame her, he who did not even know the truth? Yes. his heart acquitted her. But that jade. If he knew how it had come inlo the possession of the man who had sold it to the curio-dealer, that would be something. What harm, what possible harm, anyway, in going to see the clairvoyant—taking it with one! He walked on to his hotel, his head down, his hands thrust in his pockets, his heart moody. The Henslows found him a silent companion at dinner. When coffee ami cigarettes came, ho got up and glanced at his watch. "Going out, eh, Vane?" asked Henslow, stretching himself luxuriously in his low cane chair, and reaching for the lighter.

Thru, if it was there wlipn ITnivour! and ho ha<l loft (ho room, if it was there no longer when he himself came hack to find flareourt .lead, how had ii disappeared in 1 lio meantime? Thai old theory of his of theft, murder—-was no!

this sudden weight in the scale for it? If n thief had been among Harcourt's treasures, if the old man had intercepted someone in the act of carrying off a precious jade, if he had tried to stop the thief, lo capture him, and the iliief Lad shot in return, would not that account for everything? P>ul who had taken flie jade? Thai was the point to discover. How had it gone from the study of Harcourt, to the shop, of the curio .dealer? lie heard the old man's shuffling steps coming back along the passage, lie stood e'r'erl and eager, with the'jade in his hand.

"I've come on something rather pretty, here," he said. "This stone —what do yon ask for it .'" 'the dealer named a sum far below the jade's value. Vane was prepared for that. Hi' turned the stone in his hand and deliberated. ''lt rather seems as if it ought to have another to go with it," lie said.

The old dealer protested. "They don't come in pairs—not that sort don't. It's a good article. I'm offering it dirt cheap"— and all the rest of it.

"Could you find out if the person you ■bought it of has another to match?" Vaiie still held the jade. "1 'd lake the pair, if there were two of them." The dealer shook his' shaggy head, ■with the long, unkempt hair.

"I'm certain there isn't another, or he'd have sold it with this. He was keen to have me buy it. It's a firstelass stone, that, sir. You'd better have it."

"I don't know." Still he seemed to hesitate. "OouM you tell me where you got it." lie .asked lamely. "If you'd ask the person who sold it to you, or give me the address. I\l like it if I could have a match for it."

. The old dealer grew exasperated. "There isn't any good your trying, I'm certain of it. But t 'II give you the address, if you like to see for yourself. I bought, it from a man living in Dean Street—No. 7. I sent him the money there. You'll better take this, anyhow; you won't get a chance .like it again."

And Vane, yielding with what seemed like reluctance, paid the price asked and slipped the jade into his pocket. He went out into the sunlight, feeling himself on the brink of discovery.

What was he to do? He might call and try to find out something from the seller of the jade—he would go round there now. He took out his watch. No, lie was due at tea with a hotel visitor — a. lady with daughters —who had seen in Vane from the moment she met him an excellent cbanco for the family. He must put the visit to Dean Street, off till to-morrow. He walked off to the liotel with his jade weighing down his coat pocket, ami his mind so full of this new extraordinary development that he proved but a dull caller.

Mrs Mears consoleil herself. After all a girl doesn't marry a man to have him entertain her. What's needed in a husband is plenty of money, position. enough good nature to let his wife do as she likes, and spend what she ehooses. Social qualities don't matter a straw. "lie's rich, and lie's satisfactory, this Mr Vane. He'd do splendidly for any one of the girls. He can have whichever he chooses. As long as I get one off my hands, J don 't care if she marries a deaf mute. Perhaps so much the better! "

CHAPTER XXIII. THE CLAIRVOYANT

Somebody handing round thin bread and butter at the Mears's tea began to banter the youngest, daughter. "Come, now, Miss Mears, if you don't tell me that secret of yours I'il find it out, in spite of you. I'll take your pocket-handkercief, or your hatpin, or something, and get the thought-read-ing lady to find out all you won't tell me. You'd better out with it and save me all the trouble."

The youngest Miss Mears laughed do lighted'ly.

"You wouldn't be such a sneak!" Even if you would, you haven't got anything of mine to take her -not a single thing. You can't frighten me."

"What's that?" Mrs Mears looked up from the teapot. ''What's nil that? Have you been to the Magician's Cave? I hear people are saying it's a humbug. ''

""Who says so.'" The young man put down his bread-and-butter plate, and crossed the carpet. "1 don't know who told you, but whoever it was, they're out of it. Why, she's a marvel, that girl. They say she can tell the number of your watch when it 's in your pocket, and read a letter held behind her head —.and give your name, and the place you were born in, and all that kind of thing.'' "Oh, it's all collusion!" A stout lady, who overfilled a small, low chair, brisked up and joined in the conversation.

"There's no collusion about this girl, or trick, either." The young man was on the defensive immediately. "I've been twice, and the second time I was more befooled even than the first. I thought like yon, and I meant to find the trick of it. But there isn't one. That's the queerest part of it. She's perfectly genuine. She can read thoughts, and she's a clairvoyant." The stout lady wagged her head, and the, feather that stood aloft from her hat waved aggressively. "These people only say things that happen to everybody. Then you can't; find them out and expose them. Liars and cheats, every one of them."

"I've heard this girl tell a man that he'd had new- that day of friends across the .sea, and she dscribed the person, and the man told me it was true. letter for letter." "Oh, she knew somebody who knew him, and they (old her! Thai doesn '1 take a child in! " "And I've seen somebody hand her ii|» a ring, and she fold a' long story about where it, was found in Africa, and it was right-(piite right— -from start to finish. What do you make of that thou?" "Oh, a coincidence, Dial's nIJ. She might he right sometimes. Some of the chances are in her favour. "I suppose," saiei the stunt lady, with a slow, meaning emphasis, "ihal fhi« creature who

Vane said lie thought he should take a stroll. For just one minute he had considered the idea of asking the Henslows to come with him to the Magician's Cave. Then lie had put the idea aside. He would rather go alone to see whether the clairvoyant could tell him anything, or whether after all she was a vulgar fraud, cheating people into a belief that she had occult powers. He took his hat and light overcoat and went out of the hotel, the jade still in his pocket. He walked along the lighted streets, with I he sound of the sea in the distance like a sobbing voice, and he found his way (o the cave of the magician, where people were, thronging in through the canvas opening. He paid for a seat, taking a ticket from the faded woman, and went in with them. He found himself, when he came on through a dim passage, in a lighted room, where gas-jets flared and the air was thick and suffocating. He sat down on the faded, shabby plush of a halfcrown seat, and began all at once to feel himself a fool for coming. Presently Mrs Ford stepped upon the platform, led by her husband. Vane felt a shock of disappointment. This the clairvoyant! They had been chaffing, then, when they talked of her youth and her beauty, lie would have got up and gone out of the stuffy, gas-laden atmosphere, but that his next neighbour barred the way. If he had ,<-,< no, the rest of his life's story might have been different, but he stayed—stayed ail through Mrs Ford's exhibition, painstaking and creditable, not otherwise remarkable. The audience faintly applauded —they were impatient for the real attraction of the show—the appearance of the Signorina. Vane yawned a little, looked at his watch, wondered once more why he came. He had given up all idea of subjecting the jade to the treatment of the lady who lay on the couch on the platform. Then all at once there was an enthusiastic chipping of hands—the lady bowed, backed, went down the few steps to the green room. Vane actually stood up. He was beginning an'apology to the fat neighbour, when once more emphatic applause led him to glance at the platform. Ife saw that the, screen at tlie back had been moved forward, the sofa had vanished behind it. lie sat down again. He would wait for just another minute. Ford came to the front, waved his hands theatrically, then he pushed the screen back. A murmur of satisfaction went up from the hull. There on the worn tiger-skin that covered the couch lay a girl, one arm across her forehead, her eyes (dosed, her face peaceful. She was apparently in a clairvoyant sleep. She wore a white gown, long and simple and straight, ami a pale blue ribbon crossed her breast and fell to the hem of it. There was no ornament on her soft throat or Iter pretty hair. She, was the type of girlish simplicity. Vane felt, himself choke, the room j danced before his dizzy eyes, Lis lips parted, dry and stiff. !!•■ was looking into the unconscious .face of his lost !

love. It was Colia herself v there in his full sight, silent, mot Then he found that Ford was inj,' iii ;i level, Jiionotonoiis uni and that Celia was taking no Surely she slept, and could not hear him? Tlien Ford tinned, went down among the audience, begged a handkerchief from a man in the, front row. lie brought it back with him, hud it under the little hand that pressed her fore-! head.' There was a moment's pause. Then Vane thriller., at the sound of j Celia's low voice—dreamy, slow, as if j it, crime from far away/ She said a| few sentences, told some brief, unin-1 tcrestL.g details of the owner which covered him with blushinsr amaze- i