MURDER, OR SUICIDE.

Te Aroha News, Volume IV, Issue 203, 14 May 1887, Page 3

MURDER, OR SUICIDE.

•Be not afraid. 'Tw but a thrill, „ , A fever fit, and then a chill ; , And thenanendoniumanill: For thou art dead.' It was about nine o'clock on the morning of the Derby day, 186-,' when Captain Edward Barclay, late, of the — Dragoon Guards, • came into the breakfast-room of the Falcon Club in' Regent Street. He was a slightly built man, with a black imperial moustache ; and it would have been rather difficult to guess his age merely from his appearance. The absence of beard and whiskers (for he was clean shaved except for his moustache), and the ruddiness of his complexion, gave a youthful look to his face. He walked with a quick, springy step, and there was a dash of impetuosity in his manners which seemed like the enthusiasm of youth. On the other hand, there "was a hardness about the eyes and mouth, and a set cast in his features which told that if the tremor ii» his hand, and the crow's feet about his eyes had been produced by dissipation, it must have been a dissipation which had extended over a considei able space of time. A^ a matter of fact, Captain Barclay was nearly fifty yeais of age, though he often passed as a m:m of thirty-four or Unity-five. He took his seat at a small table, where he generally had liis breakfast, and gave his orders : a salmon cutlet, cut thick, a mutton ; chop, two poached eggs on anchovy toast, and a pint of St. Jnlien. Not a bad breakfast foi a man who had only left the smoking-room of a well known betting club at four o'clock that same morning. Having ordered his breakfast he proceeded to look at the addresses on his letters before opening them. The first i htee he threw a^ide, as if he had already divined their contents from the handwriting on the envelopes, but when hei'ameto the fourth he showed visible signs of anxiety. He read and re-read the suposcription, as if he were not sure in whoso writing it was, or hoped to uWn frmn it some cine to the contents within. At last, as if by an effort, he tore open the envelope, ami having taken out the letter, held it befoio him with both hands. The whole <>i the first page, and nearly half of the second, was covered with writing which Captain Barclay seemed to rend diagonally, so to speak, or lather to envinnyt* at a glance. In a moment the letter dropped from his hands, whilst he sat bolt iipiight in his chair, looking before him with a hunted, tenified expression, his face deadly pale, and large (hops of perspiration standing on his forehoad. The letter which caused him so much tiepidation was as follows :—: —

' 3 Fcrmvals Inx, May, 186--. 'Dear Sir, — I am sorry to say that Mr. Gordon's acceptance is not in my possession. I have had to rediscount it home three weeks ago with Mr. William Jones, of 4 Adam-street Strand. I am also sorry that, lam unable to take it from Mr. Jones, as I have had some heavy payments to make lately. It will be due, you may remember, on June Bth.— l remain yours truly, ' Jamls OsnoRNE. ' Captain Barclay.' Mr Osborne was a money lending solicitor, and Mr. Gordon was a young man of considerable property, whose name Captain Barclay had forged to an acceptance for which acceptance he had discounted with Mr. Osborne. Since he left the Army, in debt, which was about ten years before the date at which this story commences, he had lived by betting and gambling of all kinds. Of late, things had gone very badly with him, and it was to save himself irom being posted as a defaulter at Tattersall's that he had been led to raise £2,000 by forging Mr. Gordon's name. Mr. Gordon was a young man of about twenty-eight ; but I need not attempt to describe his character, as the reader will probably know as much about it as I do myself when this story is finished. ' Good God ! I shall have to fall back on Ellen after all,' he said to himself when, with the assistance of a glass of brandy, he hud a little recovered, not pei hops his composure, but his power of thinking. Isis may win, but tho^e cursed fillies are as uncertain as women. Besides, if she did, 1 should only deal 1 £.'3,200. and I, could hardly spare the whole £'2,000. Let me see. If Isis wins und 1 had ;£:")00 from Ellen, I should be all right; would be easier to get than and it would not hurt the poor girl so much. Bnt what is the use of speculating in this way ? The luck is all against me at' present. If Isis does not win, I shall want ' for Osborne — or Jones, or whoever the damned fellow is who has the bill, arid more to settle' on Monday. Yes, I should want to put me straight. It would be ruin to the' poor girl if she 1 lost it. She had barely ' ,£4,000, altogether. But then, I may win it all back on the' Leger. And if I did not Osborne wduld take Gordon's "bill for if thi.^orie were'paid,' and I could raise another from Irwin on Gordon's name, pay Ellen, and ' bolt' to South A m erica withh thousand or more in my pocket. I must save the poor' girl if I can. It's hardly fair to eat your own flesh" and ' blood. But suppose theV^s any liitch^-w'dl, 1 have i that bottle :i bi' prhssie acid" ready — I

ought to,carry it about with me —a bill like that on tlie' market— dahin the ly ; ! ing scdutidrel ! ' GoVdon ina'y hear of ,ir at any, momerit ; hutt'iiu firussic acid is' '^uickaiid painless. It is though'?'' He turned pale, and paused for 'a' millnte in' his 1 meditations, aud then continued, 'Oh' hang it ! There's ito use' funking' the tlhilig ' now. ''But stay— if Elleri sticks' aKout the ,£2,000 or let the fellow have the poison instead of myself? ' If he were dead the signature would pass muster' with his executors. Suspicion might point to 'me ? Well, what if it did ? I'd have a run for my life, at all events, ' and I could put an' end to myself afterwards just as before.' But 'here Mr. Gordon himself came into the room. ' Hallo, Barclay ! ' he exclaimed. ' Nothing amiss with Isis, I hope 1 ' 'No,' replied Captain Barclay, putting the letter from Mr. Osborne in his pocket hastily as he spoke. { But why do you ask ? You haven't heard anything- 1 V 'No; 1 thought you looked a little out of sorts, that's all, and I was afraid that those letters- you might have had some oad news.' •Oh dear no. I was up very late last night : only left the ' A r ictoria ' at four o'clock this morning.' ' Well, for all our sakes I hope she'll wiii. I'm regularly up a gum-tree if she does not : I shall want a thousand, at lea? t, to settle with on Monday, and I'm afraid of getting an infernal wigging it I go to my banker or rcy solicitor. Do you know where I could raise it on my note of hand V ' Yes, I know of a private source where you can get it done at eight per cent., or perhaps less,' replied Barclay in :is fiim a voice as he could command. He did not, of course, know of any such person, and his object was only to gain time. ' That's all right,' said Goidon. ' Are )ou going down by road f ' No, I'm sick of the beastly journey.' ' Why, I always think it's half the fun of the thing.' • No doubt at your age you do,' said Barclay, ' but wait till you are a few yeais older. With whom are you going, though f ' Nobody, as far as I know at present i I thought we might have taken a hansom together, though it is rather late to get one l i ow.' ' 1 can get you a seat in a drag where you"ll have 3ome very good company, if that will suit you,' said Barclay. ' Thanks, I'm veiy much obliged. Where does it go from? ' 'Maida Yale. If you'll meet me here at half-past ten, we'll diive up there, and I'll introduce yon.' ' But will theie be room for mo?' 4 Yes, plenty. But if there is not you could come with me from Waterloo.' ' Very well, then, I shall be in the smoking-room at half-past ten. Goodbye for the present,' said Gordon. 'So he has got hard up and want* to go to the money-lenders, ' thought Captain Barclay when he had gone. 'I must stop that at all hazards. Am one of them that he'd go to would tell him about the bill that I have out. They hyq all in league, Let me see. To-day is Wednesday. If I get Ellen's authority this evening to transfer her Consols to me, they could be sold for cash tomorrow. I could have the money on Friday by twelve or one o'clock, get the bill out of Jones's hands, and then tell Gordon that the piivate party who lends money on note of hand at eight per cent, won't take his acceptancp Confound the fool ! I did not think he betted much, and what is he about to be hard up for a thousand ? ' The Ellen to whom he referred was his only child. She was a fine looking girl of about three-and-twenty, an orphan, and had uncontrolled possession of about £4000 which she had inherited from an aunt, on her late mother's side, who had died intestate. For the last five years she had been living with a Mrs. Evans, who was a relative and wife of a solicitor. The Evanses went every year with a party to the Derby. 1 ' Captain Barclay had been invited on the present occasion, but he had written the night before to excuse himself for not going in their drag, and it was on the chance of the vacancy which would thus be occasioned not being filled tip that he was taking Mr. Gordon to Maida Vale. The reason why he did not go to the Derby with the Evanses himself was simply that he was bored by the society of ladies, as such men usually are. On their way to Maida Yale he was surprised, when he told Mr. Gordon where they were going, to learn that Mr. Gordon was acquainted with Mrs. Evans and Miss Barclay, to whom, he had been introduced at a party, and that he had already paid them some j visits. It was nearly two months since Captain Barclay had seen his daughter. For, to put it mildly, he was not particularly attentive to her. Otherwise I dare say that lie would not have required to be informed, 6f the matter,' by, Mr. Gordon. ' The drag was standing at the door of Mr. Evans's house when ' they arrived! There was room for one, and, having secured the seat for, Mr. Gordon, »nd promised to n'.e!eV tlieni at luncheon," Captain Barclay' returned to His chambers, intending' to With some friends of his by an 'expVess train to lipspm, The reader 1 Will !of course" have anticipated that'lsis diet not. .."win the Derby of !1! 1 ! 86- T . "'lf/she t ;ljad,' there would probably bd'iio st'oity W-tell. After, two fa We Starts' the ljorses got off, Isis' 'taking ' tlie lead almost immediately. ' ' Whenphey ! reach6cl Ta'tten1 ham Corner '"&)]s' was rt'^oiV length'

ah&ad of the rest, but as they werd rounding the comet 1 , a rakish-looking' llay, \Vhich' had kept close to ,tjie' rails^ sh')t out fnmi the crowd ahd I darh&: neck-Vind-iieck with" Isis into the bnen before ifie Grand Stand ; On' 'they; camoV 'tliti'bay horse increasing his distance, and Isis evidently falling off at every; stride. ' As the posfc'SVas passed', a rank outsider was first, Isis not even 'placed:' ' A' crushing defeat has different effects F on' different temperaments/ Captain Barclay was very pale, but he put his field-glass in its case, and went in quest' of Mr. Evans's drag as calmly, to all outward appearances, as if he had not had a farthing's interest in the race. Perhaps the danger which he had now to confront served to steady his nerves! At length he found the drag, where luncheon was in progress. ' Oh; papa/ said Ellen when he came up to them, * Mr. Gordon tells me that' you have both of you lost a dreadful lot of money.' * I luckily hedged off at ,the last minute,' said Captain Barclay, laughing ; ♦ I wish now that Mr. Gordon had come down with me by train, I should have been able to save him a good deal if he had.' ' I don't though. I would not have missed the pleasure the drive has given me for dcuble what I have lost,' Mr Gordon replied, smiling and looking at Miss Barclay, who blushed as he spoke. They were sitting opposite to each other, having their lunch together. l Damn you ! I wish you'd take Ellen and the bill to the devil together, 7 muttered Captain Barclay to himself but he continued, in a pleasant tone, ' Ellen, my dear, I want you to come up bo town with me, if you will. We shall be at Maida Yale before they return, but I should like you to come with me to my chambers first. I want to write a letter to-night, and it is important that I should consult you about it.' ' Oh, certainly, papa,' said Ellen, who looked rather disappointed, nevertheless. After lunch Mr Gordon took Captain Barclay aside, and said, in a half whisper — k I must get money to-morrow. If you have hedged, I have plunged. I took six to one in thousands on Isis just before the race. Who is the friend you spoke of this morning 1 I must get the money if I have to pay a hundred per cent, for it.' 1 1 shall write to him to-night/ said Barclay, ' and make an appointment for two o'clock to-moirow.' ' But will he do it at once 1 I don't want to be kept humbugging about for two or three days.' 1 Certainly. He'll give you a cheque before you leave.' ♦ Well, that's all right. Shall I see you at the club to night V ' Yes. What time will you be there V ' Say twelve for certain.' 'All light, that's ai« appointment, then V ' Yes.' A few minutes afterwaids Captain Barclay left the course with his daughter in order to get to the station before the trains became overcrowded. When they reached his chambers in Pali Mall Place, he told her a long story, which scen.ed plausible enough as she told it. The gist of it was that ho was tired of the life he had been leading, and wanted to get some regular and permanent occupation. The secretaryship of a large and old-established club, was, he said, vacant and the appointment might be made the next day. He had only that morning received a letter from General Stniton, who was one of the committee who had the giving of the appointment. Here was the letter, and she could see for herself how matters stood. The letter was as follows :—: —

''Private and Confidential. ' Cavendish Square : May — , 186-. 'Dear Barclay, — The secretaryship of the Club will probably be filled up on Thursday (if not, within the next few days). I can get it for you if you can only find the property qualifications. It would be your making. Salary per annum. • The run of your teeth ' and perquisites worth, at least, another I wish to Heaven I could find you the for the few hours you will want it. Surely you know somebody who would do so, You have only to show on the day the election is made (probably on Thursday) that you have ;£3;000 standing to your name, and the thing is done, Hoping that 1 shall be able to congratulate my old comrade-in-arm~ on his success, I remain, dear Barclay, yours faithfulty, ' James Seaton. ' Captain Barclay.' ' Now, my dear child/ said Captain Barclay when she had read the letter, ' you see why I want, for a few hours, the appearance of being worth It is ah important, post, and they want a man who is apparently responsible. I ask you, as father .to child, will you transfer Consols to me tomorrow morning, and I shall retransfer it to you when the, appointment js , made — 'to-morrow' evening, I suppose, - it will bet ' ", . , ',„'<'• For a moment Ellen seemed in doubti. She took up the letter again, ,, and read it carefujlyi Then she jaid it', down and said, after another moment's;, paiise : — „.„,' \ • , . ■' '" VMy dear, father, ,yo ( ij, know .th^Vl,, would do any tiling for' you; (^f^ cpurs.e* ( I wijl. But itjs'ne^rly 4 a)J ti&tVfh^ye.^ You will give.it bapk to me when yoxt"

nave satisfied the committee 'I If you wanted money for yourself, you know that I would ' What was uppermost in the poor girl's mind was to say that if her father wanted money to save him from ruin, she would give him all that she had if he would only ba explicit, and tell her exactly when she would have to face the world alone for his sake. A strange jumble of ideas, founded on suspicion, unconscious suspicion, no doubt, but still suspicion, which is often a very safe monitor. IMy dear child,' broke in Barclay, who half-divined what was struggling in her mind, ' if I wanted money it would be for those who could buy and sell both of us, for those who have had enough out of me already, and who would give me no thanks if I paid them. No, thank goodness, lam free from the toils of money-lenders and bookmakers. But what is the use of having a few pounds, as I have, if you have not some steady means of getting an income 1 Could I only point for a moment to my name on the books of the Bank of England with £3,000 to its credit, the £3,000 might be withdrawn the next minute, but I should j suddenly be numbered amongst those who can afford to smile at the battle of life ; though ,1 hope,' he added, in a pathetic tone and sighing as he spoke, *my smile would be a smile of sympathy and hope for those who feel the heat and burden of the day as I have felt it.' 'It is enough, my clear father,' said his daughter ; ' I shall do as you wish.' ' Then just sign this,' said Captain Barclay, as he rapidly drafted a letter to her stock-brokers, authorising them to transfer the stock into bis name. She put her signature to the letter. f I shall call for you in the morning,' he said when he had carefully blotted the letter ; 'we must be at Agar and Panton's offices by half-past eleven. The transfer will take an hour or so afc the Bank of England, and the committee meets at two o'clock. I ' must have my name registered in case they send down to the City in the afternoon — as they are likely to do. Do not speak about the matter to anyone. You see General Seaton's letter is marked ' private and confidential.' Mr. Evans is a talkative man ; lie Iraows one or two members of the •Club, and it would be ruin to poor Seaton and me if it afterwards got wind how I had obtained my property qualification. I forgot I had au appointment at the Falcon Club at six. No, dear, I won't go to Maida Vale just yet. I may look up at about eight. But, in aoy case, I shall be with you tomorrow morning afc a few minutes before eleven. Good-bye, dear.' And, saying this, Captain Barclay waved his hand to his daughter, who drove away to Maida Vale, while he strolled up to his club in Regent Street. I need hardly add that the story he told to his daughter was a lie, and that the letter which he showed to her was a forgery. He would have gone to Maida Vale, only that he knew that the Evanses would have a dinner party, and a dance in the evening, and he felt that lie would be much more at home in the company of his friends at the ' Falcon ' than in the society of a 1 lot of frowsy faggots,' as he termed the ladies whom he expected to meet at Maida Vale. Afc a few minutes to twelve o'clock that night he was sitting in the smoking-room of the club, when Gordon came in looking very much excited, and, taking a seat beside him, said in a loud whisper :—: — ' I'll tell you what, Barclay. I hardly believe in a man lending money at once who lends it afc eight per cent. It is not natural. He'd want to make inquiries and keep me waiting for a couple of days, which I can't stand. I must go to one of the regulars — Hill, or Jones of Adam Street, I'm told is a quick man. I promised Arthurs, with whom I made the bet to-daj 7 -, to settle with him on Friday, and money I must have by to-morrow evening.' ' My dear Gordon, have I not told you that you shall have the money tomorrow evening 1 You forget that I have written by your authority to ray friend to make an appointment for two o'clock to-morrow. You must really keep faith with me. You will have the money by then. But it would do me a lot of harm with Shaw — that's the man's name — if I did not keep my appointment with him.' 'Well, of course, I'll keep my appointment with you,' said Gordon, who looked very tired and excited. ' But it will be all right, won't it ? ' 'Of course it will ; I know Shaw well. Trust my word arid leave it to me.' 1 Good-night, then, old man. Two o'clock here to-morrow.' ' I'll be punctual,' said Barclay ; and Gordon left the room. When he had gone Barclay got up also and left the club. He went back to his chambers, and, going into his bedroom, lit a candle and began to walk up and down the room. * Agar and Panton will have my letter the first thing in the morning, 7 he said to himself almost aloud. ' They will have the transfer deed ready by half-past eleven. The transfer will be completed and the stock in my name at the Bank of England by, say half-past twelve or one. If I went to Bingham's at once, could I get the stock sold, and the money in my pocket by, say two, and then post off to Jones, take the bill out of his hands, and let Gordon go to the devil ? ' He paused for a moment and then went on. ' No, it's not possible. I should never have the money before three or four, and the cursed fool would be ' with Jones in the meantime.

No, that won't do. Let me see.' Shaw I may here mention, was the ' friend that Barclay had referred to in speaking to Gordon. He had been struck off the roll of solicitors some years previously, and was a tool of Barclay's who exercised some sinister influence arising from a knowledge of his antecedents. ' Shaw must promise him a cheque the next day at twelve o'clock. What excuse can he make for the delay 1 Waiting for some cheques to be cleared. Yes, that will do, at least it will have to do. But suppose Gordon won't wait V He paused for nearly a minute, and then continued, llf he won't, he must take the consequences, the beggar. I'll get him to come here before going to Jones — say I've been to Jones for another man in the morning, and Jones won't be in until four o'clock. And then 'he turned very pale, and went with thelight into the sitting-room, where he took down a revolver which was hanging over the mantelpiece. { Let me see how the evidence stands. I rush out crying "Murder ! " That's the word ; it's true enough, but I would not be likely to use it if I were a murderer. "Murder ! murder ! " The servants, and the police, and the rest of the damned crowd come in. He's found on the floor, dead, with a bullet in his head and the pistol in his hand. Has had large losses ; committed suicide in a n't of temporary insanity. The bill is presented on the eighth. The signature is perfect. lam quite candid about the matter. It was to meet turf losses in which we had a joint interest. Shaw knows I'd get him ten years if he said a word about the interview at his office. Besides, if he did he'd be a tainted witness on his own confession. No, he's safe enough ; he has a holy horror of a court of justice. It could only be a case of suspicion at the worst. Besides, if one or the other of us must go, I may as well be last as first ' He put the revolver back in its place and returned to his bedroom. ' I wonder,' he thought as he proceeded to undress, ' what death is like. It can only be a cessation. Life is merely a sum total of thoughts, emotions, sensatious, and such like. Each of them has existed and ceased to exist, and death can only be the cessation of the lot of them. Very likely the soul is immortal in the vay that the flame of that candle is immortal. The gases or whatever they ore that make the flame, will continue to exist when I have blown it out, but they will exist separate and in another form, and the flame, as a flame, j will be no more ; aud so, after death, the entities, whatever they are which, in a certain combination, produce what we call life, may continue to exist but the soul, the I, the feeling of personal identity, will have no more existence than the flame of the candle.' Rather philosophical, it may be thought, for a man like Captain Barclay on the Derby night. But, then, it was rather a peculiar Derby night that he was spending Next morning he slept longer than he had intended, and did not come into his sitting-room until shortly after ten o'clock. There was a letter on the table, addressed to him in his daughter's handwriting. 'Confound the fools! why did not they bring it iv to me 1 ' he exclaimed as he opened it hastily. The letter, which he read slowly and methodically as if he could not quite grasp its purport, was to the following eilect : — •My dearest Father. — I think it will answer all purposes if I become security for you to the extent of £3,000. I have been thinking the matter over since I left you this afternoon. The only use of a property qualification would be to provide for anything you might possibly owe the club, and that can be effected quite as well by a guarantee from me. It would, therefore, be absurd to go through the form of transferring and retransferring the stock. I shall be delighted to enter into any bond with the club for you, but more than that I cannot do. I have written to Agar and Panton to say that they need not prepare the transfer deed. — Ever your affectionate daughter, 1 Ellen Barclay. His face was very white when he folded up this letter and put it in his i pocket. It was a bright, warm > day, but he shivered as if it were mid- winter, | and, going to the sideboard, took out a bottle of brandy. Having poured out nearly half a tumberfui he drank it off as if it were so much water. ' You devil,' he exclaimed when he had replaced the bottle. ' Unless I can still get you to come to the City with me there is no way out of the wood but this.' He took down the revolver, and, having examined it carefully and seen that all the chambers were loaded, put it back in its place and left the house. When ho got into St. James's Street he took a hansom, and drove rapidly to Maida Vale. Mibs Barclay had gone out, and would not be home again until the evening. From Maida Vale he drove to a restaurant in Cheapsidc, where he had a bowl of soup and a chop, which he ate mechanically, but effectually. 1 1 must keep myself up for the business of the afternoon,' he thought. Having finished his meal he went on to Bishopsgate Street, where Mr. Shaw, who called himself a financial agent, had bis offices. Here he gave his instructions : Mr. Shaw was to promise Mr. Gordon the money by three o'clock next day. There was just a chance left. Gordon might consent to wait, and, in the meantime, he (Barclay) might over-, come his daughter's objections, and possibly get the stock sold and paid for

in time to take the bills out of Jones's hands before Gordon could get from Bishopsgate Street to Adam Street on the following afternoon. At about half-past one Captain Barclay sat down in the smoking-room of the * Falcon ' to wait for Mr. Gordon, who arrived punctually at two o'clock. 1 Hallo, Gordon ! ' he exclaimed heartily. ' " Punctuality is the soul of business," they say, and you are punctuality personified. Keady to start at once.' ' Why, Barclay, are you ill % your hand is as cold as death, and you look awfully out of sorts,' said Gordon. ' Do I V asked Barclay. 'I have had a touch of that infernal ague this morning. It's lucky for you that you have never been in the East, I can tell you. Yes, I can see that I don't look very fit.' He looked at himself in the glass, and even he was terrified at the apparition he saw there. His face vas very pale, to be sure, but what made him shudder was the deadly fixed expiession of the countenance which he saw in the mirror; its aspect of blind, inexorable resolution terrified him, for it seemed like the face of a dreadful other self whose slave he was. 'Let us have a brandy and-soda and be off,' he said after a moment's pause. ' We must be quick about it,' replied Gordon, ' for I must get back to Adam Street and see Jones, if I can, this evening, if we don't succeed with Shaw.' 'He won't be in till four o'clock. I have just seen a man who has been at his office,' was the ready answer. In a few minutes they wore in a hansom, driving quickly towards Bishops-gate-street. Mr Shaw received them, in an easy, courteous manner. Notwithstanding he had been struck off the roll of solicitors, he was a clever man, who had the manners of a gentleman, and acted his part to perfection. He was not a money-lender, he was careful to explain, but he had a good deal of capital for which he wanted employment. Eight per cent was rather low for a short loan of only three months on note of hand. Ten per cent, it ought to be, he thought. Yes, Mr Gordon could have the £2000 at three o'clock the next day ; he was waiting for some cheques to be cleared, and did not care to draw on his bankers until then. But Mr Gordon would not wait until three o'clock next day. That was the upshot of the interview. I need not trouble the reader by attempting to describe it at any length. He would have the money there and then, or go elsewhere. Shaw was equally firm. The money (afc the unheard-of rate of ten per cent per annum for an advance on simple note of hand) would be perfectly afc Mr Gordon's disposal on the next afternoon, but, until then, he could not have it. Barcla.y first took Shaw's part, and did all he could to induce Gordon to wait. And then, ! when he saw this was hopeless, veered round and abused Shaw for his method of doing business, declaring, as they left, that he would never bring another client to him again. 1 We have just got time to run down to my chambers,' he said when they got into the street, ' I have another iron in the fire. There will be a telegram for me when we get back, and, if there is any hitch with Jones, I can take you to a place, where ifc will be done.' 'We have very little time ; tell him to drive fast,' replied Gordon, as they got into a hansom. The pallor had gone from Barclay's face. His whole manner had changed. He was almost hilarious as they swept along through Queen Victoria Street and by the Embankment. All suspense and doubt was now over. There was a definite act to which he was thoroughly committed—from which there was no way, that he could see, of escaping. And, like a soldier who displays reckless courage in a battle which ho has gone into in a state of terror, he sat gaily chatting and laughing by the side of the man whom he was going in a few minutes to murder. They got out of the hansom afc the entrance to Pall Mall Place. When they got to the house in which his chambers were his hand trembled so much that he fumbled for a minute with his latchkey before he could open the hall-door. The tremor was not from fear, but from excitement. He was as resolute as ever. At last he opened the door, and they entered and went upstairs to his chambers, which were on the second floor. ' I must steady that tremor,' he whispered to himself as they entered his sitting-room. When they got into the room Gordon threw himself carelessly into an armchair near the fire place, while Barclay went to the sideboard from which he took a bottle of brandy and two glasses. ■ ' Help yourself, old man,' he said, putting the bottle before Gordon, who filled out about half a wine-glass of brandy, and passed the bottle to him. Captain Barclay did not attempt to pour the liquor into a wine-glass ; ho would probably have spilt some of i f . on the table if ho had, but, for the second time that day, he half-filled a tumbler with brandy, which he drank off pure, and almost at a draught. He feit at once the tonic effect of the liquid, and put down the tumbler with a steady hand. 'I am ready now,' ho thought. 1 Straight into his forehead.' .Keeping his eyes fixed on the revolver, he made a stop, towards the mantelpiece, when — suddenly he was

confronted by Gordon, who had sprung from his seat, and was standing right before him so as to intercept his progress towards the place where the revolver hung. c Stop, stop, sir !' cried Gordon in a stern mocking voice. ' I have been watching you more closely than you thought. Is it murder or suicide you are meditating 1 For your daughter's sake I'll assume it is the latter. Sit down, my good fellow, your little game is up.' They stood glaring at each other for a minute, Barclay like a tiger at bay. For a moment he seemed as if he were about to spring at his opponent, but Gordon was a tall powerful man in whose hands he would have been a mere child. ' Come, come,' said Gordon again, in the same mocking, authoritative tone ; * I know all about the forged acceptance for £2,000 which is in the hands of Mr Jones, and which will mature on the eighth of next month. You either come to my terms within the next five minutes or spend the night in prison.' 4 What are the terms V gasped Barclay as he shrank back and dropped into a chair, utterly unnerved and subdued. 'The terms are that you sit down and write a confession of the fraud that you have attempted to perpetrate both upon me and upon your daughter ; that you leave England by a ship which sails for Australia on Tuesday next, and that you remain for the rest of your life either in Australia or New Zealand.' * But I have not the money to go there, and if I had, Jones would bring me back on warrant,' whimpered Barclay, who was as bewildered as he was unmanned, ' I'll find you the money to go, and meet the acceptance, if you obey me,' replied Gordon. ' I don't mind allowing you a hundred a year besides. But everything depends on your obeying mo implicitly both now and in the future. You wonder why I act in this manner ? I shall tell you. You only learned that I was acquainted with your daughter when we were on our way to Maida Vale. If you had not neglected her in the shameful way you have done you would have known that I had been paying her attentions for some time, and that I was about to propose to her. On Tuesday a friend of mine asked me to give him my acceptance for £bOO. I did so. He took it to Mr. Jones who informed him that he already held my acceptance for £2,000. As my friend had heard from me that I had never put my name, on a bill before, he made inquiries, and got full particulars about the acceptance which Mr. Jones held. These particulars he at once communicated to me. Thus, you see that I knew all about the matter when I met you on Wednesday morning. You will wonder why I did not challenge you on the subject at once. Shall I tell you why 1 I knew that Isis was likely to win, and that you had backed her heavily. I judged that under the circumstances you would be very likely to attempt a raid on your daughter's property, and I determined to give you every scope to show your true character I knew, of course, what you were about when you brought her up to town from from the Derby. I proposed for her in the evening, was accepted, and heard all about General Seaton and the vacant secretaryship. Why did I not tell you what I knew last night, and why did I pretend to want money so much 1 you will wonder. Simply because I wanted to see what you I would be prepared to do if you were tried. And I believe I have discovered. That revolver is loaded, 1 expect.' He took it down and examined it. ' I thought so. You are a pretty fellow. However, in the absence of actual evidence to the contrary, I shall assume that you were about to commit suicide, and not murder. Come ;do you agree to my terms, or must the law take its course ? Don't think, my good fellow, that I shall spare you one whit because of your daughter, or that she would wish me to do so. Already I feel half inclined to retract my oft'er. It seems monstrous to pay £2,000 to let a fellow like you loose upon society. And it is only putting off the evil day, for into prison you'll find your way in the long run as surely as fate.' 'I agree V exclaimed Barclay in a tone of abject supplication. On the following Tuesday Captain Barclay left for Australia, having been posted as a defaulter at Tattersall's on Monday. He died somewhere up country about three years afterwards. Frank Gordon and Ellen Barclay were married in the following July.