THE MYSTERY OF THORNCLIFFE HALL
EXCITING STORY OF DOMESTIC INTEREST.
By EDGAR PICKERING, Author of “Tho Secret Foo,” “Murder Will Out,” “Dove, tho Conqueror,” etc., etc. CHAPTER-XXIV, MR. HARDING’S STORY. The train had drawn tip at tho station ami a passenger got out whoso sedate gait and quiet speech, as ho addressed the old porter, proclaimed him to be someone to bo treated respectfully. it was Mr. Harding, who, after in-' qairing the shortest way to the Milage, walked Untlier, staying once or twice to give a prolonged look at Thoniciiffe nail, winch had every appearance of being uninhabited. He was not a man of impulses, and Esther’s account of wlmt sue had discovered required him to act circumspectly. Ino story might ho nothing but a madman's imagination, for lie had no proof of its being anything more, but the matter should bo sdud. i*or taut purpose he had come, at some inconvenience, in order to satisly himself about the astonishing allair. He was not conscious of possessing an atom of romance in his nature, yet the possibility tmu Jasper Hibbert might be living, and tho consequences which would ensue if that were true appealed to him ui an inesisibfe way. no had known Jasper m the days of lus own youth, although ho did nut divulge mat fact to Esther, and as ho walked along, the persuinhcatiuii of mature worth all-1 lespeeUibilily, Air. Harding recalled io mind more than one scone of dissipation in which he had taken pari with Jasper Hibbert.
“1 wonder what my clients would think of me if they knew how 1 behaved sometimes when 1 was a youth:-'’’ he asked himself. “Four Jasper was as honourable a fellow as one could ever hope to find. I never believed he was guilty. Cornelius was always a dull dog, crafty lo a. degree, and he may have connived at the charge against his cousin. T’m afraid it’s a wicked world. And now Cornelius has come to an untimely end.” These and a great many more recollections occurred to Mr. iiarding as lie strolled towards the village, where lie engaged a room in the inn which .Gerald bad occupied. There was a snugness about the bar parlour which positively invited his sitting there before the fire, and chatting with the landlord. It was reminiscent of those long past days when Jasper and himself had foregathered, and as Air. Harding thought of them ho became almost a youth again mentally. His host might give him some information, moreover, and, at any rale, the cosy bar parlour was a delightful refuge from tho inclement weather, for a boisterous wind was surging through the village street and roaring down tho capacious chimney, in a way that made the lire blaze merrily, as Mr. Harding warmed bis chilled hands thereat.
Ho was not tho only occupant of tho room. A customer, who appeared to Oe on friendly terms with the landlord, was sitting on the other side of tho hearth, who drew away deferentially when Mr. Harding came in. “Wo shall have a rough night of it. sir,” remarked tho landlord to the newcomer. “Tho old house on the hill will fool it. How say you, Mr. Creak f” Tho man in tho shadow of the heavy old-fashioned chimney-piece looked up, and Mr. Harding gavo u sharp glance at the chalky face.
“If 1 pleased myself,” replied Creak, “I shouldn’t go up there to-night, but duty’s duty.” “And a duty that called me to live up yonder isn’t one 1 should c-arc about,” went on the landlord. “You are well acquainted with Thorncliffe Hall, l! presume,” said Air. Harding. “i was butler there in Air. Cornelius's time, sir,” answered Creak. “I’m staying on to look after the place for Air, Carow now.”
“Who has como into tho property, I’m told,” observed Air. Harding casually. “Yes, sir. Ho was Air. Hibbort’s steward and Highly thought of by him.” “And very lucky into' the bargain.” “As you say, sir, Air. Carow is a fortunato'gentloman,” replied Creak. “Not that it’s my place to speak about him.” “He’s not tho only lucky man,” laughed the landlord. “I suppose vouTl be sotting up for yourself now, Air. Creak.”
Creak objected to the suggestion. Not in words, but by a curious sort of cringing movement, as if to escape notice. “1 haven't settled anything yet.” lie answered vxoasiiy. “I’m looking about, co to say.” “1 should imagine that Thorncliflfo Hall is not one of the pleasantest places to live in,” remarked Air. Harding. “That is, judging from appearances. This is the first time I have seen the house, although 1 used to hear about it when. I was considerably younger.” Creak looked up. The stranger's reference to the Hall had interested him apfj&rontly. Not altogether in a pleasing way, however. “I’m speaking of the time when Jasper Hibbcrt was living,” continued Air. Harding. “1 should say that Thorncliff o Hall was a great deal more cheerful then than when his cousin lived there. It seems to mo that Cornelius Hibbert’s murder ought ” Ho stopped abruptly, for Croak had dropped his glass, and the accident interrupted tho conversation. It seemed as though tho mention of Air. Hibbert's murder had startled him.
“I was about to say,” and Mr. Harding resumed, ‘‘it is an outrageous tiling tluui an inoffensive gentleman can be quietly done to death without anyone being brought to book for the crime.” “That’s what I’ve said more than onco, sir,” replied the landlord. “You've heard me, Mr. Creak, 1 make no doubt.”
Croak gave a sickly smile and said “Ay” assoutingly.
The wind increased in violence, seeming to invite cheoriness and good fellowship, and Mr. Harding could he excellent company when he chose, full of anecdote and entertaining talk.
“I remember just such a. storm as this,” he remarked. “That happened a good many years ago, and many lives were lost at sea. One of my friends was drowned, so it was reported. His ship foundered in the channel, and he was never seen affain. Nothing very extraordinary in that, you’ll say.”
Nothing extraordinay, but Croak was interested in the account and Mr. Harding kept his eye on him. “Time went by, and 1 had forgotten all about it,” ho continued. “There were more important things to think of. Even my friend’s name had almost slipped my mcory. Ho had never been heard of isince he left England, as 1 said, and, to all intents and purposes, ho was as dead as Queen Anne. A relative of his had stepped into the property, a man I never liked, by-thc-hyo,
and, whatever my friend had done, people invented all sorts of stories against I tin of which ho was perfectly innocent. Soon ho was forgotten.” “Aye, death clears a man of everything, so I’vo heard said,” observed the landlord. “There was nothing from which to clear my friend,” replied Air. Harding, “but that’s neither here nor there. I’ll admit Unit ho was people called wild, mid spent his money like water, .so that, weil-to-do as ho was, a wealthy man, in fact, I doubt if his estate would have stood much more of it. And now I’m coining to the extraordinary part d> the story.” Creak was bending forward in rapt attention, and Mr. Harding sebmed to bo addressing him. “It has come to my knowledge recently, tho lawyer went on, “from a source which i have reason to believe is perfectly genuine, that ray friend was not (I row nod. For the second time Mr. Harding stopped abruptly, as a furious blast sent the sign outside swinging with a screech on its rusty hinges, which caused Creak to start from his chair. , “You'll pardon me, sir,” said, “but might 1 take the liberty o'f asking what your friend’s name wasf” “it can’t concern you, my friend,” laughed .Mr. Harding, pleasantly. “It is merely a case of a man being given out a.s dead, for a. purpose which J can only call criminal, and I've mentioned it to prove, that- villainy is rife in the land, for all our boasted liberty and progress.” A customer had entered the bar, and the landlord went out of the parlour, leaving them alone, “VouTe quite surprised that suck a thing could he, 1 suppose, Air. Creak,” added Mr. Harding, but Creak did not answer as 1 e went out of the room, passing the landlord with a feeble good night, and Air. .Harding laughed quietly to himself. (To he Continued.)
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/TH19200823.2.95
Bibliographic details
Taranaki Herald, Volume LXVIII, Issue 16823, 23 August 1920, Page 9
Word Count
1,420THE MYSTERY OF THORNCLIFFE HALL Taranaki Herald, Volume LXVIII, Issue 16823, 23 August 1920, Page 9
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