“The Lezaire Mystery”

Thames Star, Volume LIX, Issue 16645, 16 November 1925, Page 3

“The Lezaire Mystery”

CHAPTER X. COUNTY VEXATIONS. A very lively discussion followed tlie election. Many of the magistrates who lived too far off to return home to lunch met at the Raven Hotel alter tiieir labours were ended. “He’s a sharp, sensible sort of chap any way,” said Mr. Etherly, who had supported the successful candidate, and was anxious to justify himself. “You say that because you voted for him,” remarked another, laughing. “He’s not a gentleman,” said Major Wyndham-Parker, a sharp-nosed, fer-ret-eved, fidgety little man, with a good military record, who thought himself entitled ever afterwards to take the lead. He would not admit any pretensions on the part of St. Evelyn, an officer of his own rank, to dictate to him. “How you could bring yourselves to choose a low-born, common cad like that ” “At least lie’s sound in wind and limb,” said Sir Archibald Bright, another of the opposition. The Major’s son-in-law was evidently a weakly creature, and this had really turned the election.

“I suppose that is aimed at Wellards,” retorted the Major, fiercely. “If his health is indifferent, it was damaged in the service of his country.” “But the county jail is not a home for convalescent. l },” put in old Etherlv. “At any rate, I don’t envy the new man his billet,” said Sir Archibald Milman, to turn the conversation. “He won’t bo without friends,’’’ observed one of St. Evelyn’s side. “The Colonel will see he’s not bullied.’

“He mav not he here always to stand by his nominee,” replied Major Wyndham-Parker, darkly. “Why, what’s to become of the Colonel? You won’t get rid of him so easilv.”

“That’s what my lady thinks. But lie can’t stay at the Hall for ever.” “Of course not. The boy is growing up; he will be of age in a few years. You don’t suppose he will let the Colonel go on cadging then?” “St. Evelyn will have feathered his nest by that time.”

“Or have turned the right bird out.”

“I don’t see how lie’s to do that.” “He’s not a man to stick at trifles, you may depend,” said Major Wynd-ham-Parker, with bitter meaning. “Oh! come, I say,” cried old Etherlv. “He’s not half a bad chap. I don’t think it’s fair to make such remarks.”

“.No; but really,” asked another, who had hitherto stood neutral, “what do you think made St. Evelyn so keen a limit bringing this fellow in?” “Public spirit, of course,” replied a champion, promptly. “Public spirit be hanged! It’s not that; it’s his nasty, interfering, domineering ways.” > “He wants a friend against the day he’s sent to jail,” cried the Major, still angrily, determined to think all evil.

“Oh, I say. draw it mikl! St. Evelyn in jail! Why, for Heaven’s sake?” “Well, to begin with, if there was punishment for debt nowadays, he’d be run in fast enough!” “Do you suppose he’s really hard up?”

“He hadn’t a sixpence when-he married. And look at his tastes, all expensive ; keeps any number of nags, dresses no- end, smokes half-crown cigars.”

“Then he plunges tremendously.” “Always ready to take or lay the

OUR SERIAL STORY

By MAJOR ARTHUR GRIFFITHS. (Author of “The Brand of th e Broad Arrow,” Etc., Etc.)

odds.” “Or sit down to whist at fivepound points.” “Well, he gees the pace certainly; but, after all that’s his affair. And he must have got- a good round sum with Rachel Lezaire. If it’s nothing worse than debt — ”

“You wait,” said the Major, sticking pertinaciously to his point. “There’ll be something far worse than that one of these days, mark my words.”

Everyone laughed at this, no one more heartily than St. Evelyn himself, to whom the whole conversation was in due course retailed. But it will be readily understood that the Colonel’s life was not altogether happy in Thorpeshire. CHAPTER XI. DOCTORS DO NOT DIFFER. Let us return now to the sick-room where young Sir Carvsfort Lezaire lay at the point of death. “My boy! my boy!” cried Lady Lezaire. “Do tell me—are yon in great pain?” The only answer her son vouchsafed was to roll his eyes vacantly towards her. “Oh, Mr. Freshener!” went on the unhappy mother, “surely you are not quite helpless. “Do* something, anything, I implore you.” “I am most anxious, my lady, 1 assure you. As the stomach-pump is here, 1 will use it, for it is now past seven, and T expect Sir Peregrine or Dr. Robinson every minute.” “Perhaps before they arrive my dearest son will have succumbed. Do not, I beseech you, delay. Try and give dear Carvsfort some relief.”

The medical process which followed need not be described in detail. But Mr. Freshener, examined the result with considerable interst, and afterwards appeared more perplexed than ever.

To these poor bewildered creatures, the news that- a carriage approached was welcome in the extreme. Mrs. St. Evelyn went to the window, and, opening it, looked down the drive. “It is empty?” cried Lady Lezaire, in a tone of the utmost concern.

“No,” replied her daughter; “I can plainly see a figure inside.” “That must be Sir Peregrine. How good of. him to be so prompt!”—and Lady Lezaire hastily passed down the grand staircase to meet the London doctor as he entered the hall. Lady Lezaire led the way, and Sir Peregrine, with Colonel St. Evelyn, followed. They found Mr. Freshener seated by the bedside, but he rose on the appearance of the great leader of his profession, and made the profound obeisance which local obscurity likes to pay to metropolitan greatness. “We are most gri.eved, Sir Peregrine,” said little Mr. Freshener, nibbing his hands, “to encoach upon your valuable time; but the matter seemed so urgent, and the case, T may say, so mysterious, that I felt it was imperative to get the highest medical skill.”

“Have you arrived at any decision? Ts there nothing in the symptoms to give you a line?” “The symptoms are marked and plain enough. But they all point to the impossible and absurd.” “Kindly go over them,” said Sir Peregrine, knitting his brows, and assuming an. air of abstraction which implies acute mental effort. A whispered colloquy followed: after

the first half-dozen words uttered by Mr. Freshener, Sir Peregrine visibly grew more and more inteested. “Why, it seems to me perfectly obvious,’’ he muttered; “these are the plainest symptoms of ” He paused suddenly and looked round. He words to which he would not give utterance formulated a very grave charge against some person or persons unknown. But with characteristic and professional caution he reserved his judgment until the fullest evidence.

No improvement had shown itself in Sir Carysfort’s condition. His physical sufferings were extreme, but they were scarcely greater than the mental anguish of those who stood aound. .Presently the whispered conference between the two doctors ceased, and Sir Peregrine, having fortified himself with the local practitioner’s opinion, proceeded to examine the patient for himself. Lady Lezaire hung nervously upon his movements, and keenly scanned the doctor’s sphinx-like face. The examination ended, Sir Peregrine looked portentously grave, but vouchsafed no (remark. A pause of some minutes followed, when Sir Peregrine himself broke the silence by saying to the other doctor: “Mr. Fresh ” ■'Freshener, Sir Peregrine.” “I think I must speak to you in private,” and the two withdrew to another room Their conference was long protracted, and when they at length returned, Sir Carysfort seemed at his last gasp. He was quite conscious as the end drew near. He knew his mother and sister, who each held, one of his wasted hands. He smiled feebly at his friend Hubert, and spoke to all a few broken Words of farewell.

The baronet appeared also to recognise Colonel St. Evelyn, who came in at this the supreme moment, but gave him no greeting, and seemed at first altogether indifferent to his presence. He gradually grew weaker and more faint, and at length a species of comatose lethargy took possession of him, from which there appeared no prospect of recovery. All at once, however, by a violent effort, he raised himself in the bec\, and with wild haggard eyes pointed a linger at Colonel St. Evelyn; then, with a half-uttered groan, sank back on his pillow and expired.

It was a most painful and terrible scene. Lady Lezaire, now completely unnerved, went into violent hysterics, in which her daughter *out of sympathy presently joined, while Airs. Lelou, the housekeeper, who came in at the last monient-, tried to soothe and pacify them. The doctors looked at each other like men who have a grave secret in common. Hubert Podifat threw himself on the foot of the bed and sobbed aloud, convulsed with a mostpoignant sorrow The only person who stood quite unmoved was Colonel St. Evelyn. He was the first to break the silence of that grim and ghastly chamber of death, and said to Sir Peregrine Falcon : “Now all is over, it is needless to prolong this painful scene. Nothing remains to be doiie, 1 presume, but to pay the last tributes of respect.” / “Pardon me,” interrupted Sir Peregrine, “something very important remains. I consider that a post-mortenf is absolutely indispensable. Do you agree with me, Mr. Freshener?” “Certainly, Sir Peregrine, or J should withohld the certificate.” j “Am I to understand, then.” asked St. Evelyn, “that you are in doubt as , to the cause of death?” “Not exactly in doubt,’ replied the great doctor, “we have more.than a strong suspicion. But we wish to make assurances doubly sure.” “Suspicion! . Can it be possible that you imagine there has been foul play?” “ ‘Foul play’ is a strong term,” replied Sir Peregrine, “and we make no accusations—only we must have wellsubstantiated' facts.”

“Your wishes are naturally law, and eFery facility shall be given you,” said Colonel St. F>elyn, in a somewhat constrained manner.

“It will be necessary also,” put in Mr. Freshener, “to give notice to tho coroner, as an inquest must be held.” “Surely that is unnecessary—it wm only cause a serious scandal in the county.”

“The necessity will depend upon rue result of the post-mortem. But unless all our suspicions are completely falsified—unless, indeed, our whole know-! ledge and acumen have suddenly deserted us—l fear that, scandal or no scandal, a coroner’s inquest will have to be held.”

* “As I am magistrate for the county,” replied the Colonel, “it would ill beseem me to throw any obstacles in the way of executing the law. I myself will summon the coroner, although 1 repeat that I consider the proceeding rather uncalled for. Sir Peregrine bowed gravely, but made no further remark. He had not

come a hundred miles from London to be taught his duty by a provincial justice of the peace. Poor Lady Lezaire was still almost stupefied by the sudden sorrow which had fallen upon her; but her daughter although she scarcely realised at first ? the meaning of this peremptory summons to withdraw, persuade’d her mother to leave the room. The two heartbroken women, with faltering step and dejected air, passed out together. The moment they had left the room. Lady Lezaire’s st-rngth seemed to forsake her. She tottered,and was on the point of falling to the ground, but strong arms interposed to save her. They were those of Colonel St. Evelyn, who had followed her out ' of the room.

The mere sight of her son-in-law. seemed to revive her flagging strength. With a sudden effort she broke from his arms and cried passionately : “Do not fourth' me! You have robbed me of all T hold most, clear in the world ’ ‘‘Dearest mother!” exclaimed Bachel. “what do you mean by such terrible words?” ’ ■ “Ask him—the husband you chos&. Are you too great a simpleton to understand that he is now the absolute nvne". through you, of everything here?” (To he continued.!