"Bantam" Cockrayne's Crime.

Timaru Herald, Volume XIIC, Issue 13846, 6 March 1909, Page 1 (Supplement)

"Bantam" Cockrayne's Crime.

By C. C. Andrews.

Young Marriott, tooling the pair of fine greys along the rough moor road at as smart a pace as its many inequalities permitted, brought them almost to a standstill as he reached the low wall that ran between the inconsiderable garden of the little house and the extensive grounds of the large one. It was so low that it hardly seemed a partition, and .the wicketgate half-way down its length swung open-with so easy and sociable an air that all sense of a barrier was lost — indeed, thie cottage seemed to nestle so snugly under the wing of the Hall that Lucilla, - her lover remembered, had once gaily compared them to a hen with one chick. From this gate a path was trodden across the wide sweep of grass, straight to the long window of Sir Chaytor's favourite sitting-room—-probably his favourite for the reason that it gave him an uninterrupted view of the cottage. That was Lucilla's path; in ten years her feet, treading it so constantly, had worn it bare and wide. She had faltered down it, blushing and smiling, tremendous, pert, tearful, merry—a dozen contradictory things at once and together—hand-in-hand with him a week ago, when they went to announce their engagement to the Major-General, when perhaps, a little to his chagrin, she had broken in, upon his neatest speech to fling her arms round Sir Chaytor's neck and cry out to him, quite fiercely, that she would never have him—no, never-—if her. darling old godfather, who was better a thousand times than half the real fathers, said "No." But Sir Chaytor had said " Yes," like the jolly old bov he was, though perhaps with less jollity-than he had expected, for it was not until two days afterwards. . . .

Where was' Lucilia ? He glanced towards the cottage, and saw her bright head appear like a" flash of sunshine in the porch. Then she came running down to the gate so quickly that he had hardly jumped down when she threw it open. "Why, I haven't even begun!" she cried. "Begun?" "To dress. You said you would come at half-past seven, and it is hardly six."

"All right—l know, darling." There was only the vast solitary waste of Dartmoor behind them, and he was too much in love to care for the possibility of watching eyes in front; he kissed the charming 'rosy face. " I've got • to drive to the station to send a wire for the pater—a message to.his lawyer. I'll come back for you, dear, and jump into my toggery when we get home. Lots of time while you and the girls and the mater are breaking the ice." . " H'm —depends on the thickness!" She glanced at the high,- hooded gig. "Am I supposed to . take my- very first really-real dinner frock tip into that?"

" You'll be all righti, : dear —thought you'd rather have it than the carriage, it- promises to be a' glorious night." He changed the subject; the" fact that both Sir. James and Lady Marriott had looked somewhat askance upon his engagement to the fortuneless da ,-gliter of a half-pay Army, officer's widow, and might contrive to render the ceremony of dining with them for the first time a decided-ordeal, was rather uncomfortably present with him. " They are taking the usual stroll,-I see." "Mother and Sir Chaytor? - Yes; they never miss on fine evenings. Why, in the ten years we have lived here — f>rer since, he came home from India--1 don't believe sh&Jjas been outside Uie walls of gardens as many times." , She looked, as he had done, towards the two figures that appeared among the cltiinps of shrubbery that dotted the lawn of the Hall—two figures quaintly contrasted. Mrs Trevor was a tall, fair woman, whose voice, manner, and gestures 'were alike wonderfully gentle and serene. As a girl she had been very lovely, and even now her fine, smooth "skin was hardly lined and her abundant blonde hair hardly faded. She moved with a certain soft clumsiness, but her expression was so "animated and her hazel- eyes" so bright that it was difficult to believe her blind. By her side, her hand laid. upon his arm, his little, bullet head with its, brushed-up bristle of white hair not' much above the level of her shoulder, Major-General Sir Chaytor Cockrayne—known throughout a goodly, portion of India and half of Upper Burma as "Bantam" Cockrayne strutted sprucely flat-backed, arched-chested, consequential, short-stepping. The name, flung out in a moment of inspiration.by a cheeky young subaltern, had been hailed with acclamation by the mess, and, spreading to barracks, become thenceforth his only title among the men who laughed at and mocked and followed and loved him. Conferred in affectionate, derision, it was also a tribute to the dare-devil pluck which had won him .so many medals and decorations in the course of his thirty years' service "that a chest less broad could never have backed them all. Both had paused in'Lucilla's path, the General letting Mrs'Trevor's hand slip from his arm ; the girl ran to her through the gate in the wall, beginning to explain why Ralph was there so earlv. Sir Chaytor stood still, hands behind his back, more like a bantam cock than ever. " Well?" he demanded. Young Marriott put out his hand. "I hope you know that there's no need of* the question, sir—-that there can't be.' ' I didn't want any time to think." he said quietly. " Mv bov, if I'd thought you would —by Jove,*-si£ I'd have horse-whipped vou!" said the General. Both glanced at the mother and daughter. Lucilia, with pretty fuss and f<fcidness, was carefully "folding Mrs Trevor's light silk shawl over the fair hair that was almost as luxuriant and bright as her own. Sir Chayter drew a few paces away. He tapped the other's breast. . "I have done a few awkward things in my life, Ralph—yes, deuced awkward things!—but nose. I can call to mind, that! would sooner have shirked than the writing of this letter. Hut I couldn't, don't you see, say anything until I was sure'that you wanted the child, and sure that she would take yon. She might get over the knowledge if it came to her—her mother never would. And I'm getting as old fellow; in the course of Nature l snail drop long before she does. But- for thinkina of that and picturing what mifht happen if what Ive screened her from for over twenty years came to her ears at last, I might have held my tongue." " It is as if you lino done so, i»enor»l. in every sense but one." "Voting Marriott put out his hand apain. m p poor, enough substitute for you, but if ever the need arises, upon Tnv life I'll be a faithful one. ' he said. Sir Cliaytor gave a nod. Lucilia called caily to her lover. " Ralph. if you don't ; r o voii'll nevr-r bo back in time. And I want the effect of my frock to really soak into you before we start —it isn't the sort of thing to be appreciated at a glance, T ran tell you Although, to be sure, ynu oiiiht to feel eoually proud of me in a four-three-farthing mnslin." She J swent a merry curtesv. " Godfather, if I wero vour sweetheart, and vou were m" for the first tim«. wouldn't you consider that I did credit, to vour taste, even in this costume?"

"Humpli!" said the General. His little burnt-mahogany, white moustached face relaxed into a smile* almost foolish in its fondness as he looked at the- pretty creature spreading out her flower-decked skirts; he patted her cheek. "Run and put on this-won-derful frock, madcap, and let us see what we look like, then." "Words will fail you!" cried Lucilla. She ran to the gate and paused -there, clasping her hands tragically. " Oh, if you did but know my state of agonising uncertainty! Shall I do my hair on the top, or shall it be down On my neck?" She whisked through the gate and across the cottage garden, vanishing in the porch. Young Marriott, turning to follow,, paused. "By the way, Sir Chaytor, it's right about that fellow having got off last night."

"Fellow?" Sir Chaytor echoed. "From Prince Town. He got off clear enough. I suppose they'll have the poor beggar again." . He; passed through the gate., crossing the cottage garden towards the waiting gig. Mrs Trevor had given a little cry. "A convict?" Her face wore a look of startled surprise. "Escaped from Prince Town?" "So tliey say, my dear," said the General bluffly. "And is at large oh the moor?" "Unless they have caught him. It's the usual tale, fit seems. One of the men at work in the quarry gang knocked -down a warder and made a bolt for it in the fog last night. . . . . You are not nervous, I hope?" " Not exactly nervous." Her face and voice recovered their usual serenity: she took his arm again. "I am glad it was arranged for Ralph to come for Lucilla—-it will make things easier for her. Iso want her to make a - good impression. I hope she will look her best." .

"Her best? Her worst would throw most girls' best into the shade!" declared Sir Chaytor trenchantly.

"Ah! In your opinion!" Her voice changed with a wistful note. "She —she really is pretty, isn't she?" "Pretty?" He came to a stop for added emphasis. "Pretty? Lucilia? Why, by Jove.! Emily, I don't believe that even you ever quite matched that girl! If the Marriotts have any sense they, will think their young scapegrace deucedly.lucky to her her!" ." I hope so. Though lam vain enough to think my girl—her father's girl—good enough for anybody. Ifc is selfish, perhaps, but I almost wish it had not happened .just yet. We shall miss her."

She sighed. Sir Chaytor . stopped plumply before her in the path. "We might be less lonely instead of more so, if—'if : you would consent to change things, Emily." "What, again?" She drew back with almost a laugh. Naturally she was a wopian with a charming touchy of humour; it brightened her face now, though never, even when in the full pride and bloom of her girlish beauty, had she seen anything absurd in the love of the man who was fully old enough to be- her father. " Oh, my dearest dear old friend, can't" I make -you understand T what a great mistake that would be—as great as when I first had to .refuse you, - and confess that I had chosen- "• "A better man, my dear," interposed "the General sturdily; but he looked away from the soft blind eyes as though they could see. "Another man," she corrected gently., "Better?. No —even I will hardly say that," She laughed again softly. " What would. you do . witli a foolish, blind" woman for a wife ? Even your unselfishness would find her a clog and a .burden if vou were tied, to. lielpless a pro n-st ri p.gs\ rso, no—let lis! gb*on as we.are—you in the big house, and I in the-.-.little one, father and mother to our girl who" loves us both equally." She held, out her hand. With nti air of old-fashioned devotion .which sat w-ell upon his quaint pomposity Sir Chaytor stooped and kissed it. "Perhaps you are right. But for me you must always be the one woman. Emily." "I am very proud." Her eyes for a moment glittered with tears. ■" I should be-—the two- best men I have known in the world have loved me. I j so wish you had known Arthur!"

They had reached the cottage door. "I mustn't keep you out any longer; it is getting dusk. Tell the child that I expect to see her before she goes—and, good-niglit!" Pretty Lucilia, dressing for that formidable dinner-party—it was really formidable to the unsophisticated girl—and deciding after severe cognition upon "hair 011 the too " as being the more dignified, completed in due course the most.-, elaborate toilette she had ever made in her twenty years of and came rustling dojvn the narrow cottage staircase as charming a picture of youth, beauty", and smiling happiness as. any eyes need desire to see: There Was still ny good -quarter C-f an hour before Ralph was due to fetch j ier —plenty of time to run across to the big house and let the General see the frock and how she -looked in it. She drew the pretty evening cloak — his gift, like the frock itself—round her shoulders, carefully gathered- up her skirts, and went out, treading cautiously tip-toe in her little high-heeled kid shoes. • He would be at his dinner most likelv—he always dined early—or," if the meal were over, smoking his in his favourite sitting-room as lie' waited for her.. So she thought as she tripped along the path across -the'grass and passed through the long window, to find the room lighted only bv one shaded lamp, and empty: " The dining-room door, facing her her upon his opposite side, was so nearly shut, that only the slightest ! streak of' light flowed through the crevice". but there was a subdjied sound of movement beyond it. ' With a mischievous half-formed idea of suddenly bursting in, throwing 1 off her cloak, and so startling' him with the sudden vision of her splendour, she stole noiselessly nearer, and then the. gurgle or liquid poured from bottle to glass. Somehow, as she heard it. Lucilia stood still- oddly checked That wa<= not like Sir. Chaytor. The gurgle of liquid came again, and once more the china chinked. In a moment the girl flinein" the door open, was in the room, and the. mandated at the table had snrun-r to his feet, while the half emptied glass in his hand fell to the

fl °A r stranee man! A tall man, a man wearina a long grev coat buttoned ui) to his throat and falling almost to his feet. She stared at him and he stared at her The knowledge that he looked startled, gui ty, half-defiant, and half-npologetic followed instantly. She had all the pluck that became the god-daughter of " Bantam Cockravne: , , , ""What business have you here. "Business? I-I—r" He stopped with a half laugh, then bowed "Really, my dear young hidy, you must pardon my not stating that. My business is with Mr - with the master of the house, and therefore—— " You need " ot fib ' vou kumv ' m ~ terrupted Lucilia calmly. _ He drew back. " Why—why do you say that?" ~ ~ "It is a prettier word than lie,', said the girl. She advanepd a little more. Sir Chavtor would be sure to appear directly, or the bell would summon the servants, and she really was not in the least frightened. "You see, the master of the house

isn't 'Mr' anything. You had better tell me what you are doing here." The man shrugged. Something in his face as he looked at her seemed to say that he only now realised how pretty she was. " Are you his daughter?"

"No —nis god-dauglitcr. .But that doesn't matter. AY hat Eire yon doing here?" . ' He shrugged again. " You see what. Precisely the same as you would be doing if you were in my plight—eating and drinking," he sail coolly. . " If you were in need of food you could have asked for it."

"And been kicked off the doorstep for my pains!"

"You came in by the window there?" >

" Yes. This door stood open, and I could see the table, and that the room was empty. I came in." "You were hungry?" ' "Starving." "Oh!" cried Lucilla. A.shocked sensation of pity and horror swept everything else before it .as she heard the 'words and saw his eyes fix wolfishly upon the food again. She moved forward impulsively. "Oh, 1 sit down—eat!. Sir Chaytor would say so, I know —1 am sure he would. I'll tell him I told you to." She pushed forward . the chair in which: he had'been sitting,, passed him dishes herself, and presently filled his glass. In the act of drinking lie paused- '

■'l suppose I may take it that. Sir Chaytor—if that is the name—will hand me over to the nearest policeman hi due course?"

"I don't know what he will do," said Lucilla, distressed. "I only know it is dreadful to" be hungry." ■ "You know!" He laughed bitterly. "Take my word for it, young lady, you know nothing of the kind! Your window stood ajar—recollect that. . I did not break in."

"No, 110 —I will say so. And vou have done 110 harm. Perhaps he will let you go —I hope so."

" Will you give mo your word that he "shall not hand me over?" "I can't do that, because— —" '■'. Ha, La! —!so tliere we are, Lucilia, my pet! Now Jet us. -see this wonderful frock and how we look in it. Ready to take the shine out of both the Marriott girls, eli? and to make a certain young scapegrace we know think himself the luckiest Eh ? Why, bless my. soul! What the deuce is this?" Sir Cliaytor, entering from the outer room, stopped stockstill on the threshold, staring amazedly from the giri in her gala dress to the man. Lucilia spoke hurriedly, au eager little hand laid entreatingly on his arm as she pushed liini back. "Oh, don't be angry —please, pray don't I she coaxed, whispering. "It is all .my fault, it is really or most of it any way. I declare I almost hoped I should get him away before you came in. You—you see —I found him there." " But who the devil is lie?" exploded Sir- Chayter.

"I don't know. I came in to show you my frock, and—and there he was, you know."

" No, I'm hanged if I know, my dear! Why, bless my heart, the scoundrel might have knocked you. down. Why didn't you call out? ■ Why didii't you,ring the bell? What was he doing? Pocketing the spoons?" .."No, 110! He isn't a thief, or I don't think he is. He was eating—he said lie was hungry—starving! So I told him to go 'on, you know." "Oh, so you told liim to go on!" Sir Chaytor ■ repeated. There was au odd. change in his voice. " Aud he was hungry, was he;?>"

" J3readfully. ,X°" wqn't., give .Jiiip, will you ? He iiasn't done any harm, and the window ; was open. Please don't. He is so afraid you will."

■ "No, I don't think I shall give him up to the police," said the General in the same tone. He changed it.

"And now- let us. look at the frock. Ha! very pretty— very pretty. Almost as pretty as I once saw somebody else look in her first ball-dress more than one-and-twenty years ago." "Mother?" asked Lucilia eagerly. "Yes, ray dear—your mother." He patted her cheek and kissed her. "Are those Ralph's wheels out there? Yes, I thought so. Don't keep him waiting; vou have not too much time for the drive, and it won't do to be late, eh? Tell -him to keep you well wrapped up." Afterwards, Lucilia, as they drove along under the rising moon, complained to her lover, with a sense.of wonder that was almost injury, that her godfather had almost bundled her out, and had hardly looked at the frock at all. Certainly Sir Chaytor did not even wait to hear her trip across the grass to the gate in the wall. He strutted hack into the din-ing-room by the tableI—from 1 —from his attitude he might not- have stirred. Por a moment the General looked at him, his blue eyes like steel points under his bushy white brows. " Take that off!" he commanded

curtly. His jerked nod indicated the long loose coat. For a moment the other hesitated, then with a. shrug and a. half-laugh threw At open. Beneath, hideous, grotesque, and unmistakable, was the horrible convict dress of yellowish grey, marked with the broadarrow. He held the coat wide, displaying it.

"You are keen to. spot me. I •showed nothing," lie said composedly.

" Which is the reason I suspected you," Sir Chaptor retorted. He moved to the second floor landing into the hall, and turned the. key. "Get 011 with your meal, at any rate. • I'll talk to you afterwards." " As' to whether it shall be the police or otherwise ? As I did not break in, I very much doubt whether Good heaven, you don't take me for the convict, do you?" In sheer amazement, it seemed, he let the coat fall. In sheer amazement,, upon his side, the General, frowning, stared at him. He burst into a laugh. "By Jove, you do! —I see you do! Man alive, are you blind? Look at my face! Look at my hair! Look at ray hands! If you know the convict brand you should know whether it is set upon me. Look!" He tilted back the lamp shade, standing full in the flow of light. His hair, just turning grey, was close cut, but not in the prison crop; he wore a slight moustache, and the hands he extended were neither CtUloused nor discoloured. Let him ho what he might, convict he was not. He laughed again, stepping back. "Well?" he interrogated. "That you are plainly an educated man of course goes for nothing," rejoined Sir Chaytor bluntly; " but though your clothes come from Prince Town, it seems pretty clear that you do not. What game arc you playing? If you don't want the police, you had better explain." "How I became possessed of them? Oh, bv all means!" He hesitated. "To confess the truth, I'm afraid the affair doesn't do me much credit. But —well, the fact is, I chanced to fall iu on the moor with the follow who got away last night." "Ha-' So it seems. Well?' "Well, he —well, he set upon me. A desperate sort of scoundrel —which isn't to be wondered at, I suppose, and as strong as a bull. Of course, lie knew that the clothes were bound to give, him away, aud so. finding me 110 - match for him. he " "Won't do! Try again," rapped out

"the General brusquely. ' " ' ' "You don't beiifcve it?";™ 7 " Not a syllable. Too obvious by a long shot.'! , ■ "Humph!" He loss of composure.- "It is rather* so, I admit, but I thought it might go down. •I suppose it would hardly 'do to tell you that 1 offered to change clothes with him out of pure phiiantliropv?" " Hardly!" ". ,

"Ah! Then we come-to the truth, which, is, that for a. certain reason 1 was almost as anxious 'to. get rid of my outfit as lie was to' be .quit of this one. He jumped at the. chance of exchange and went off in my things, minus this coat, and with? inoney- enough to pay for his ticket to London. That was before day-light this: morning; he is probably there by this. time if he reached the station in safety. ; I have been lurking about on the moor ever since it was not, you understand, my policy to show myself.'' The trouble was that I had nonfood, and ran the risk of being dropped upon if I tried to procure any. But for being pretty well dead; with hunger I should, not have come in here:"

" What did you mean to do?" "If'l had got away > unseen ? I meant to walk to King's Smeaton and take the train from there." "In that .dress?" "I must have risked that.

There was a. moment's silence. Sir Chaytor had watched the other keenly, pulling at his big white moustache, not moving. Now he turned briskly to the table.

".Well," he said curtly/,-' "it's a ( deuced queer tale, my friend, but I'm inclined to think thatyou may have told the truth—this time. r If, as seems likely, you have Scotland- Yard after you— —" • ' _ "I have not Scotland-' Yard after me." : , "So much the better'for you. I've locked the door ; the servants can't get in—you may as well take off that coat; D'you smoke ? If so, you'll find cigars on the sideboard." . The room was a long one, and the sideboard stood at its further end. Watching'the grotesque-" ly-clad figure as it moved, the General nodded. As the other returned he slightly tapped his shoulder. "So you are a deserter, my fine fellow ?." lie said quietly. > The man started back with a stare, letting the cigar-box fall upon the table. Sir Chaytor coolly checked what would plainly have been a stammer nf denial.

"No. lies!" lie said curtly. " I thought so almost at once. 'I. havo not- spent my life in tlie Service to mistake the set of drilled shoulders, or the carriage tif an Army man. Seeing you walk without the disguise of the coat lias made me absolutely sure. It's not worth your while to lie—it may be to tell me the truth. But; first—what are you? Private? Non-com.?" The questions were, rapped out sharply. The other stood frowning, rapidly biting and releasing his underlip. . " Suppose I say—neither:'" "Waste of time!" "Or that I was never in the Service?" • " A lie!" "Or tliat I refuse to answer any questions?" ..; • , "Then I detain vow here, and send mv groom with a note to the nearest police-station." He made an impatient movement, but his tone grew gentler —his men had had, ample reason for the love they bore to " Bantam " Cpckrayne. "My good fellow, don't you see that you are playing the fool? I say you are a! deserter. Well, there may "be palliating circumstances; I know the Service, inside and out, too well not to grant that. Make a clean breast of the whole business, and, if possible", I'll help you. won't be •"the~first - Arroy~ma n in -.trouble,, who lias* found me a good friend. If yoii have heard my name —Chaytor. Cockrayne—you may know as lnuah, and that- " "Cockrayne!" The other started back. "You are Chaytor Cockrayne? The Cockrayne who wanted to marry Emily Lawrence?"

"What do you know of' Einily Lawrence?"

"You were in love with her. She told me so; Told me the day before we were

He stopped. The General had jumped to his feet. He stared at the white twitching face, and his own burnt-ma-hogany face grew as pale as it could gr°w. "Great heavens! he cried, you re Trevor!" '

The other said .nothing. He stood breathing short and fast. "You are Trevor! Arthur Trevor of the —th. The man thought dead for one-and-twenty years. The man Emily married!" The reply was a gesture. Something stronger than itself dominated the amazed bewilderment of Sir Ghaytor's face as lie, stepped deliberately back. It was at though he removed himself from the vicinity of a' thing loathsorae.

"You betrayed that outpost?" he demanded.

" I thought every man in -the Army knew'that!" ■

" Into tlie hands of a horde of murderous devils whom you knew would slaughter every man?"

"Knowing that they would then raid the villages it protected, and butchcr men," and children, \vliole-: sale?" -• 44 Yes!—ves!" " Letting loose, for all. you could tell, a torrent of murder and havoc that might have involved the lives of thousands of your own people and devastated half a province I. xou did, that?" "I did that." " And you have lived after it —knowing it —for one and twenty years?". -It has not been much of a life — don't suppose, that." . There'was a silence. Trevor moved to the tabje, poured out some "' me > and drank it olf. Then lie faced about. , , , • . "No doubt," he said slowly, you believe you would never —could never—have done as 1 did. It may be true —I thought so once. But I suppose a man never knows himself. I have leaint that blent with my very blood and brains and bones is cowardice —abject shuddering, crawling fear. Those cursed Dacoits caught me—tortured me —never mind liow —I bear the marks still. If they had merely threatened me with death, had shot or stabbed, me, well and good, I should have been dumb then. I swear, and dubbed hero in place of traitor. But torture suc h torture! —and such a death as thev promised to follow! Betray the outpost? My God, I would have betrayed the world!" - He shuddered violently. bit' Uiaytor broke the moment's silence. ' "You know you were reported dead —after the whole frightful business was over —alter they had released you?" " Yes. 1. was glad of it. It \va the only way, either for me or for others."' He half laughed. "Yes—others! Even such a human rat as-1 am may sometimes spare a "thought for something outside his own eatease. It jvas believed, I suppose?" He hesitated again, nervously biting aud releasing his unsteady lip. "Is —is Emily alive?' 5 "Yes." ■

"Ah!! I have, wondered sometimes —knowing what she had always thought of me—whether it might not have killed her?" "She has never known." "Not known?" "No. The shock of hearing of your

death brought 011 the premature birth of her child, and that was followed by an illness which did nearly kill. her. it left her blind." . " Blind? Emily ?" "Stone-blind, happily. Otherwise it would have been impossible to keep her in ignorance. As it; is, she knows only what has been told her." "Who told her?" "I did. I got leave and came home."'

"She thinks I died -?" • "She thinks you died a man." " How has she lived ? She had very little.".

"She lives on her pension as your widow."

" You—mean- ? ' I understand Why have you not married lier?"

" Because she'wouldn't have me. This dress —what does it mean? You must have been pretty well put to it wlien'you exchanged it for your own."

"IWas." Trevor turned. "Do you know Anstruther —Anstruther my old CO.?"

" I know lie swore that he would cheerfully cross the world for the pleasure of hanging you!" " I can believe it —knowing what lie was. It was he. He saw me—recognised me!" "Anstruther? Here? Now? " Not far from here; and yesterday it was at the Wessex Races.',' "That vou saw him?"

" And he me." He half laughed. "We wastrels usually skulk to betting, you know. Yes, I saw him. That'old purple turkey cock's face of his has already changed in a score of years. But. for -my knowing it, and showing that, I did, lie might not. have recognised me. But I saw the knowledge of nie' flash into his eyes, and knew that he had no more doubt .than I had;."' 7 . , " And then?"

"I clodgcd away in tlie crowd and ran for it—"VVhat else? I got to the station and took the first westward train. I had no plan—only ihe desperate hope of throwing him off the scent. If I escaped lia,uging it would mean a life-sentence if I'm caught. But ho must have been close on my heels and taken, a. fast train. • He. was here before I was." •"■At'.the station?" , • " Yes. I only caught a glimpse of liimr—waiting. I jumped out 011 the offside and got across the line unseen. Then I made a break for the moor. To hide myself—that was all I thought of. A coursed rabbit has more pluck and reason in' it. Hours after I came nr-ross the fellow from Prince Town. The poor devil was scared of me —me! I knew An'struther would have a. watch kept at the station—that put, the idea of the exchange into my head. The •convict was a good deal of my height and build, and in my clothes looked, enough like me to deceive anybody who had only a description to go by. If he has drawn the watch off after him- and Anstruther follows it may give me a chance to ——-What's that? Listen!" '

He sprang to his feet as the' silence of the garden was broken by the sound of footsteps upon Lucille's path—footsteps and the sweep of- a dress. Sir Chaytor, hearing it too, thrust him back. f "Quiet! It's a woman." "A woman? What woman ?" " Your wife !■' "Emily? Here—Emily!" Each word came iii a gasped whisper; he let fall the coat which he had snatched -up. " Wait!" lie said hoarsely. " AYait—a moment! : You — : you said there was a child! That—that, girl who came in ! She—she said you . were her godfather —she spoke of her mother! • Is—is she——" . > ■ ■ •

"II you have a. memory you should enow without telling, having seen 361*. J . '"My—mv daughter?" "\es," said Sir Chavtor.

He went out, followed by a. wordless cry. . Mrs Trevor was just stepping in at the open window. As was often the case, she looked wonderfully young in the lamplight, almost girlish, and hardly less pretty than her daughter. The maid at her side drew back as she advanced, loosening the fleecy white wrap'that covered her head and shoulders.

"Wait,.a. few moments, Ellen; I shall, not be longer." She turned her face, smiling. "I know you are there, General-—I heard your step. It is too ,bad to disturb you, but I was obliged to come. The cottage always seems lonely when Lucilla is away, and somehow I• am a little nervous to-night. I think Ralph's story of the convict loose on the moor has upset my nerves. If you- are not too busy, will you come and sit with me for an" hour while you smoke your cigar? Don't think me too foolish, will you?"

The hand she extended was a little tremulous, like her voice. Sir Cliaytor, taking: it, spoke with almost his usual voice of full round cheeriness. From the lighted doorway the face of Trevor peered, haggard, white, and eager.

"Nonsense, my dear! Foolish? It's what 1 1 never knew you vet. And disturb me? You know you never do that."

" No? Then I think I will stay a little while. Suppose you give me a, glass of wine, and we, drink to Lucilla's success with the Marriotts and her enjoyment of. uie dinner-party —shall we

Long custom had rendered her almost as sure of -herself here as in the cottage. Waiting for no answer, she moved forward - into the dming-room, and .noiselessly, with suspended oreatli, uie.hgure ot her husband fell back bplore. her. Following helplessly, tlie ueueral poured out tne .wine and gave id into her hand. Without drinking sue set it down. "How did she look?" she asked eagerly, "frctty? Very pretty? Did you think so? l'es? Oh, lam sure she did!" Her soft laugh of fond pleasure was half a sigh. " I did so long to see her ! It does seem just a little hard that I have never done so and never shall.. And I r couldn't help thinking, even more than usual, howproud her father would have been if lie could have seen her too." 1 * Anyone would be proud of her, Einily." ' •• ali, yes! But Arthur would have been so devoted to her —would have made such an ideal lather. And she would have been so proud of him Well, well —1 won't be melancholy! is vour glass filled ? Yes ? Then let us drink to her and to Ilalph, and wish them " , , AVith her glass half lifted she stopped dead. if Trevor liad made a movement or drawn an audible breath both had been of the faintest, but she heard; all her senses were the keener for the one lost.

She set the glass down. "There is somebody here! she cried. Neither limn answered; neither stirred; the intolerable irony of the situation held both equally. In absolute, terrible unconsciousness the bliud wife stood facing the shrinking husband in his hideous dress. Then her face broke brightly into a smile. "Oil!" she exclaimed, "you should have told me, Sir Chaytor, that you were not alone; you should not have allowed me to disturb you in this way. It ' is Maiior Studley, of course. I had forgotten. that he was to arrive either t6-day or to-morrow." She advanced a little. " Let me bid you welcome, Major Studley, to our little corner of tlie world. Any friend of General Coclcrayne's will . always, I hope, lie a friend of mine. You will not need presenting to me, because I

am sure lie lias ■ talked to you about rny daughter."

buo iieid out her hand; her husband touched it; he muttered, half "iuaudibly, a perfunctory .word "or two. lNot the slightest sign of recognition appeared in her face as she felt the vconlact and heard the voicei She'drew back- again to the table. "Major Studley saw Lucilla, I hope, General. Yes? Oh, lam glad of that. Have you told him that she is just engaged to Ralph Marriott, and how pleased we both are? But of course you have. ' You will join us in drinking happiness to them both, Major, will you not? And;then I will say good-night, and go home again." She stood, the smiling, unconscious creature, between the two, her glass held waiting in her hand.' If Sir Chaytor's bronzed face was white as lie filled a third, Trevor's was whiter as lie raised it—his shaking hand could barely steady it to his lips. Mrs Trevor gave a little shrug. 1 A -silent toast!" she said. "I expected a charming little speech, Sir Chaytor—as pretty as the one you made on her birthday, when -slie cried, little goose, and so did, I, I'm afraid. Now I must really say good-night. ' I am quite ashamed of having interrupted your talk." Once more the husband ahd wife touched hands. She went out.. When in a moment the General returned Trevor was staring haggardly ,at the red stain of the wine which his shaking hand had • spilt upon • the cloth. 'Sir Chaytor bent across the table and laid something down. " It is loaded," he said. He spoke with blunt finality, as itliough the words required neither comment nor addition. Trevor fell, back; he'starcd at the thing that lay glittering on the red patch. ■ > " You Were a soldier once," said ; Sir Chaytor quietly. , ; ' Trevor's breath came like a parting dog's; liis tongue moistened his dry lips. .

' "' It is a soldier's death. Better meet it than prison or the, hangman's rope. You may wipe' out something. Don't lose time." - "I —I- —— You mean- ?" Trevor gasped out. He recoiled shuddering. I—l Noj no, i may escape !" " Escape now that Anstruther lcnows you are living? D'you recollect that his nephew was killed with- the outpost? , A trapped" rat has a better chance. Dead, the truth may be kept hidden—shall -be kept so. Once you are taken it must be known. It would kill your wife. It -would ruin, if ill did not kill, your girl." " Why should it ruin the girl ?"'

"It would break off ■ li'er marriage. Young Marriott knows—l told liim; the boy's good stuff, and it makes no difference, but d'you suppose his people would see him marry the daughter of a traitor and felon? And the child herself would never have itshe would break it off if he did not— I know her." He nmde an impatient gesture, pointing to the revolver. "It's your'last chance to pl»y a man's part. Take it, for their' sake's." There was a pause. Then Trevor slowly put out his hand and took lip the pistol. • He .turned without lifting his eyes. ' " Where?" he asked. , . - "There is no one about./ Cross, the .road to the edge of the moor and you will' not be seen," Sir Chaytor answered. ■

Trevor passed out and crossed the outer room to the open window.' Pausing there, he held out his-hand, and the other took it. Then, silently,, they crossed .the moonlit garden to the gate. As they reached it Trevor stopped. With; a wordless sound of horror and a violent shuddering recoil lie •iluug-the revolver down. > "I can't do it," lie cried hoarsely. "I—I dare not!"

He stood shivering, ghastly, wildeyed, a figure of fear incarnate. The General stooped and picked ; up the weapon. Some few times in the past the face of " Bantam " Cockrayne . had wdrn its present look, and those who saw had had good cause to remember it. ' ; . : " • • . ' i

"By heaven!" he said very quietly, "I swear that if you do not I will shoot you myself!" What," the other asked. " I will shoot you myself. Here and now. Nothing matters to me compared with those you would live to ruin. If you \will not die by your own hand you shall die by minej!" Trevor's answer was . a scream; he tore open the gate and darted, out into the road., . For an instant -Sir. Chaytor saw him stand,.hideous and bizaitre in the light of tlie moon";', then, as- lie raised the revolver, saw, as if by magic, a, dozen dark shapes spring into sight upon .the edge of, the moor ; heard the loud, challenge to surrender as he turned and ran; saw the white spurt of the rifles, and the flying figure spring into the air, stagger, reel, fall and lie huddled and still. In a moment he was beside it. The eyes were open; the light of triumph brightened in them as lie bent to catch the panted per : , . ' " A man's part," Trevor gasped. "I have played it—for a minute —at last! I saw them there —I knew tlie.v would fire. You would have —tlono it —I've —spared you—that." He made a' faint choked sound like laughter. " I'm consistent—to the end—you seo. I'd —only—the :pluck—to ruu !" The gush of blood that poured from his mouth carried liis breath with it. The warders came.'running up. The one in advance, bending down, sprang erect with an ejaculation' of amazement and dismay. "Good heavens!" he cried,_ bewildered. "This is not our man!" Sir Chaytor had staggered to his feet. At the sound of the shots the cottage door had opened, and Mrs Trevor appeared in the porch, stumbling uncertainly, and witli_ little, cries of distress and terror. .She got to the gate and out into the ivad; us though some subtle instinct guided- her she found her way to..tlve..still, .figure and fell on her 'knees beside.it. The General saw her grope . for. and find the dead hand, saw her lift her blind face, crying out distractedly that here was somebody dead —who was dead ?- what was this horrible .thing; but he neither stirred nor answered. her. For the moment, gripped with horror, with the sound of his own words .still vising in his ears, the old, man. shuddered as though his threatened crime, were an accomplished tiling, and. the moonlight must show his hands dyed red.