The Rattle of the Looms

Sun (Christchurch), Volume IV, Issue 963, 13 March 1917, Page 12

The Rattle of the Looms

CHAPTER Xlll.—(Continued.) "IN THE KING'S NAME." "It is mine; but I lost it the morning of the strike, after the trouble at Beu- . son's Mill." "And the boots which fit the foot•"prints? Do you recognise them also?" "I do; they are mine. But I have not worn them for a week. Aud that I will take my dying oath upon, before God." There were murmurs of disbelief, which the coroner suppresed. He motioned Farnborough aside, and the policeman in charge of him conducted him to a place in the background. . The coroner lifted his eyes aud looked about the room. "Call Bessie Briggs," ho said. "You are Bessie Briggs —Elizabeth Briggs?" The girl's face was a bit white, because, as she lifted her eyes to meet those of the coroner, her glance had travelled onwards, to fix itself on the face of James Brookes, and the thought came swiftly to her that a devil was\ working within the man whom once .-she had loved and now hated with all] the foree of her ardent nature. If Brooke.: rose and challenged her, if he . spoke half a words, the truth of their association would be known by all Midehester before the day was out, and , some busy-body would most certainly •Tonvey the news to her father's ears.' But she remembered that Farnborough bad been kind to her in many ways—she l fould place her finger on very many acts of generosity on his part- ' "Yes, my name is Bessie Briggs," Bhe said in a low voice. She was -not aware that her great eyes, one of her loveliest features, had flashed an appeal i , to Brookes. . "Swear the witness," said the cor-j oner, and it was done. I "You have a statement to make con-! cerning the man who is present in custody?" "Yes, sir. He can't have committed this murder, he can't. Mr Farnborough' wouldn't do such a thing. Why, with my own eyes I saw him bind up a hurt dog that had been lamed by dims that th' lads had thrown at it " , • "I'm afraid this hardly bears on thecase. If you cannot give us more information than this " "But I can. I met Mester Farnboiv ougli that night, away up above Laithe cL—End. He stopped and'spoke to me." "Ah, that is better. You swear you | met this man on the night in question?" "Yes, sir, before God." "At what time? Be very accurate on this point, aud let me remind you that to give false evidence is a punishable offence. Now, at what time was it you mot Farnborough?" "At half-past eight sharp." There 'was a fresh stir amongst the audience, ftnd the jury bent, their heads together. "You are certain of this? There can be no mistake; it was half-past eight?" "I'm sure, because it was eight when I went out, an' everyone knows it's half an hour's walk to Laithe End —hard waldkin' at that." She saw that. Brookes was beginning to lift himself from his seat, aud fear clutched! her. Then she was aware of an impulse. "I was goiii' to th' end o' th ' moor,'' She said, staring hard at the manager. ' . "To th' place what overlooks th' owd quarry." Brookes reseated himself with somewhat elaborate slowness. "It hardly matters where you were Soir.g. The fact, that you met Farnborough at Laithe End suffices, if it can be proved." "I'll prove it." It was Ben Frodsham's voice, shrill and determined. "I was wi' Bessie when she seed him.'' .The coroner motioned the hunchback to silence and frowned formidably. He resumed his examination of Bessie, quite evidently intending to shake her testimony, but she stood firm to what she had said, and when she was dismissed there was almost, a sigh of relief from many of the listeners. Ben Frodsh'am thrust himself forward and insisted on giving evidence. He was tworn. " Yon are prepared to state, on your oath, that you met Farnborough at half-past B'at Laithe End?" The hunchback licked his lips, drew in a deep breath and shouted, literally shouted: "Yes." And perhaps those who keep the Books of Judgment blotted out the record of the lie with a tear as they entered it. For it was the twisted lad's idea of repayment, and when all is said and done it was a noble lie, coming as it did from one who was notoriously truthful. He was cross-examined, but adhered strictly- to his statement, and when he was dismissed he cast a triumphant glance at Farnborough, as one who would say: » "I've got even with you now, anyViA.v." There were other witnesses, but their evidence was hardly of any weight. One of the dead man's servants was questioned as to whether she know anything of his private life which might last a light on his sudden end, but she knew nothing, except that she'd heard the other servant tell a queerish sort of Dtory of which she could never get the piglits, to the effect that she had once Jteard a man tell Mr Benson that he Wished he was dead. '.'Do you know who the man was?" No, she didn't know; Mary Emma had just told her that it was someone who'd Been in to see her master. And Mary Emma had left, being under notice at She-.time, and no one knew precisely Whither she had gone. "Do you think this man who made the threat, was the man you see standing before you ? '' ""What, him? No fear, mester." Joshua Benson had not engaged London servants. "No, it warn't him; this fhap coined in a mott.y car, so Mary Emma did say, an' Mester Farnborough don't ride i' mottys, bein' a workin' chap, same's oursens." "That concludes the evidence of the '.v.'tiicsses, gentlemen," said the coroner, as the laughter subsided. He then proceeded to sum up concisely. Certain

By FRANK H. SHAW, Author of "The Love Tides," "The Bondage of Hate," etc

j pieces of circumstantial evidence pointed to Farnborough as the culprit. The 'stick with which the murder had been done with his; lie admitted that. Boots which fitted the footprints in the road were also his. To some minds such evidence would be conclusive, but he would point out that strange coincidences occasionally happened, and there was no evidence of any ill-will existing between the dead man and Farnborough. On the same hand they had the evidence of two witnesses to the effect that they had seen the accused man at the time the murder must have taken place, according to the medical evidence. But they must weigh all these conflicting statements carefully, with the idea of assisting justice, and so he left the matter in their hands. The jury retired, people began to chat. Farnborough looked squarely before him. He knew that men had been hanged on less evidence lhanjrad been brought against him, and he had not been human if he had not known biting qualms of fear. And even as it was. the prison taint was on him; he .had spent many hours in a cell, and the Stigma was bound to cling. People whom he had known well now looked at. him askance. Josiah Benson, old and white, his hands shaking, refused to meet his foreman's eye. The jury were returning, there was a stir. "Well," gentlemen, have you decided on your verdict?" "We have. Wo find that the deceased was wilfully murdered by some persou or persons unknown." Farnborough suddenly sat down, his knees failing him. Ben Frodsham swung his cap into the air. "Hurray, hurray!" he shrilled, and would have continued but that Bessie drew him down beside her. CHAPTER XIVJ BROOKE'S PROPOSAL. Farnborough, a free man once more, attended Joshua Benson's funeral, which was followed by many people, though the working-classes were conspicuous by their absence. But he was not present at the' reading of the will, which left a sum of £BOOO to Bryan Holroyd, son of the testator's friend, Sir Thomas Holroyd., To his beloved niece Muriel he left certain personal gifts, knowing, as he said, that she would be liberally provided for by her own father. He also left a stated sum to all such employees of Benson's as had served the' firm for a certain period. Many people- were surprised at the comparative smallness of the amount dealt with. It had been believed that Joshua was a warm man, although he was merely a minor partner in the firm, the eider brother being the mainstay. A codicil, dated a fortnight before his death, cancelled the legacy to Holroyd, giving no reason whatever. And the matter was forgotten almost at once, for Midehester had other things to thiilk about than the death of one old man, who had never shone in the limelight of publicity. Farnbrough grieved sincerely over Young Josh 's death, and Muriel Benson did the same. Recent events had been giving the girl serious cause for thought; the fear she had known during the night of the attack on Bridge House had altered her in some subtle fashion. She was gentler, less haughty, and so Farnborough would have it, more beautiful than ever. Not that he had any cause for selfcongratulation on the strides he was making towards the gratification of his own desires. Muriel seemed further off than ever; when he saw her now she was constantly in the company of her cousin, who had been away from Midehester for a few days, but who had now returned, and was staying at Bridge House. Not that he saw them often, but there were occasions when he went to the big house, now repaired, to communicate such items as he had gleaned of the trend of affairs in the town. On such occasions Muriel ami Holroyd were always together, and Farnborough's heart, gave him pangs as he saw. the intimacy that existed between the pair. She was not for him, aud he had allowed himsfvtf- to dream in vain. But the dogged Yorkshire half of him refused to allow him to despair utterly; he knew how to fight a losing fight, ami until she was actually married to this man, his rival, he would persist in dreaming. .lames Brookes was a frequent visitor to Bridge House, too, but the manager saw little there to give him pleasure. Muriel treated him with a certain amount of indifference which annoyc I him, and Holroyd gave him but small courtesy. All things seemed to be at sixes and sevens during the week that immediately followed the death of Joshua Benson; but the strikers remained inactive- At the mill matters were at a deadlock—work was stopped, no longer did the tall chimneys belch forth their clouds that spoke of humming industry, the rattle of the looms, which, was as a mighty voice of prosperity, the crooning cry of very life, indeed, was hushed. Lulled to a sense of security by the strikers' inaction, the troops had not been summoned; constant police patrols guarded the works, extra men had been drafted into the town, and that was all. .lames Brookes was not happy; he was very far from being happy. He had schemed cunningly to bring about certain events, and whilst some of these had succeeded he seemed as far from his main point as ever. He was in love with Muriel Benson, more in love than ever; his passion, such as it was, tore at his brain aud made him well-nigh mad with longing. But instead of elevating him this so-called love degraded him, as it will degrade some men. A noble love was a thing undreamed of by the manager. He was prepared to go to any extremity to gain his purpose; but he, like Farnborough, could not but notice the bond between the girl and her cousin. (To bo continued.)