THE NOVELIST

Observer, Volume 1, Issue 10, 20 November 1880, Page 81

THE NOVELIST

CHAPTER 11,

HUNTED DOWN.

A NOVEL.

By Adolphe Belot,

ONE of the first questions Avhich would occur to the mind of a magistrate would be as to the motive for the assassination — was it theft ?

The reply would appear simple if it were ascertained that the victim, at the moment of his death, had either on or about him effects which had disappeared. Nevertheless, the circumstance that such effects were not forthcoming would not suffice as a starting point in a criminal inquiry. Justice would not overlook the fact that theft is oftentimes an expedient towards disguising some act of revenge, or diverting suspicion. Justice woxild also devote herself at once to a most minute investigation into the antecedents, mode of life, and habits of the victim. We will accompany her in these inquiries. Maurice Hardcastle, born at Lincoln, in a house in the Skirbeck B,oad, in the month of March, 18 — , was at the time of his death a little more than thirtytwo years of age. He had resided in London about twelve years, and had achieved a remarkably rapid fortune owing to a keen insight into the money market, and, above all, to an untiring activity. After a stay of few months only in a broker's ©fflce, and haying there been initiated into the practical details of financial operations, he was not slow in setting up on his own account, and, as a stock-broker, quickly made for himself one of the foremost connections in London. To attain to this end, so vainly sought by so many young men of the present generation, what trouble, what care, what incessant labour had fallen to his lot ! But he was known to have solved the problem ot being at once a man of the world, a man of pleasure, and at the same time an indefatigable worker. For ten years he might have been seen at every fete, ball, or supper. He had led a cotillon at the residence of a banker in the West End up to midnight, and had afterwards figured at Cremorne with one of the most celebrated actresses.

Many a time, at six o'clock in the morning, had his friends left him at his door, somewhat elevated, half-dead with fatigue, and overpowered by sleep. Notwithstanding all this, at least a dozen persons coiild bear witness to having found him by ten o'clock thoroughly fresh, alert, clean shaven, and occupied in his rooms, at an office in Lombard-street in receivingorders for the day's 'Change. Maurice Hardcastle understood perfectly the age in which he lived — an epoch eager for contrasts and prone to extreme frivolity under an exterior guise of gravity. He knew that the most formal man of business never neglected an opportunity of interspersing jokes amongst his figures ; that an attorney would willingly break off in the study of a bundle of papers to ask for news of the latest ballet ; that a presiding judge was on the alert for the last good story, and that a Minister, though denied to the importunate, was easily accessible to those who could amuse him.

He knew also— none better — that business is not a forbidden topic even at a masked ball or in the boudoir of an actress ; that it is easy for a man of intelligence to secure, between a couple of glasses of champagne, a commission at the Exchange, and, in short, that a client will avoid people who are tiresome, unfashionably got up, and belonging to another world than his own, whilst he will, on the contrary, run after those who can both join in his amusements and hand him a profit on his account. To this may be traced not a few of the catastrophes of our time. Jt is hard for the breath of suspicion to touch the honour of such a man, and, without the shadow of hesitation, you trust him with your all. You see him every hour of the day — in the morning he breakfasts with you at the Langham ; trom noon until three in the afternoon you are walking together under the columns of the Exchange; at five o'clock you find him "at home" with gome fair dame in the world of fashion, with whom you are both, possibly, smitten ; at seven you discover him at an adjoining table in the Clarendon— and you wind up the evening with him at your club, or the opera, or a first night at some theatre.

And throughout the day, having lived the same life with him, you- have, never found his good temper wanting, or his gaiety forced ; but »c has provided a fund of entertainment for you in his own successes, or yours, or your latest speculations. He has advised you to sell your four-and-a-half per cents. ; he has been delighted to retail the latest scandal for your benefit, but at the same time has given you excellent advice about some doubtful stock.

You are very far, indeed, from imagining that this companion, so spruce, so obliging, so sportive, and yet so calm, avlio is thinking, he tells you, of building out of his brokerage a house in St. John's Wood, has during the clay realised all your scrip, and will, when he leaves you, be off to the Antipodes. Maurice Hardcastle deserved the full confidence of his rich ponnection. He was one of a numerous cluster jnen on the 'Change Avhose Avays might jappe&r eccentric to those of a decidedly serious fcurn, whose life, out of working liours, is (Often stigmatised as irregular, but who in business have the reputation of being ire<mlar to a degree arid scrupulous to a nicety. This liberty, hoAveyer, to which he seemed so to cling, he one day surrendered, It was suddenly buzzed about that he had married a, young lady whom he had known at Liverpool during a visit paid to that town in IS — . And Avhen some surprise Avas expressed Avhen he could have made an advantageous match in London, he treated his friends to the following speech —

" Gentlemen," said lie to them, "in the eyes of you marriage is merely the means to an end; with me, it is the end itself. Yon marry a

woman who is almost an object of indifference to you, in order that her dowry or her friends may help to build up your fortune ; in my case I have chosen a woman who pleases me, so that she may help me to spend; as agreeably as we can an income laboriously acquired by ten years' hard work. But in these luxurious times your wife, instead of enriching you, would eat up both her own dowry and your small savings, whilst mine, who has not breathed the lively air of London since her infancy, will be blessed, I think, with a smaller appetite. "An reste," if she learns to eat I shall not complain — she has such pretty teeth. " By way of peroration to this speech Maurice Hardcastle presented his wife to several of his intimate friends. To them he said simply, with out elaborate phraseology this time — "There she is —I adore her, and she loves me."

And his friends decided in his favour

In fact, never was a marriage contracted under happier auspices. Maurice was over head and ears in love with Eleanor, and she loved him.

For three days nothing was talked of on the Exchange but their marriage, their love, and the brilliant beauty of Mrs. Hardcastle. Afterwards, as nothing happened to foster this enthusiasm (for Maurice, not seeing any advantage in making a show of his wife, loved her at home), the new Benedict was forgotten. The stock-brokei', who resumed his customary business, was alone remembered.

Occasionally, it is true, a client, after having charged him with some commission, would say to Maurice — " Well, is the honeymoon to last forever ?"

The reply was, invariably— " My friend, I am the happiest man in the world. "

This happiness lasted for a whole year, and probably would have lasted for ever had not Eleanor received a letter summoning her to Liverpool, where her mother, attacked by an illness thought to be mortal, wished to see her. Maurice let her set out alone with Mary, a servant, but almost a friend, -whom she had educated, and whom she had wished to bring with her from Liverpool after marriage. Why, it may be asked, did he not accompany her himself ? The hurried departure was one reason, and the absence was to be but for a week— though in the end it reached nearly two months. Last of all, perhaps, fate had decreed that Maurice Hardcastle should remain alone in London at the mercy of an assassin ! Informed of these details of his life, the magistrates could not long dwell on the idea that Eleanor's husband had fallen a victim to revenge. What enemies could this young man, whose life for ten years had been devoted to open pleasure and honourable work, have made? He had wounded no susceptibility — compromised no interest. His frank and open manner had conciliated the sympathy of all, and though he was somewhat hasty, and occasionally, in money matters ,a little brusque, he had always been so completely master of himself that nobody could remember having been involved in a quarrel, or even a discussion, with him.

Could his marriage, then, have roused anj T jealousy or envious feelings ? On this point the Law, careful of every detail, desired some information. But during the whole of his career as a man about town Maurice was never known to have had a serious love-affair.

As for Eleanor, no one knew her except the two or three intimate friends to whom Maurice had presented her. In marrying her lie had had no rival to engage or get rid of. She had quitted Liverpool tranquilly enough, and was regretted only by her family. All things considered, theft nrust be held to have been one of the motives of the assassin. But had a theft been committed ? We shall easily answer that question by publishing the various reports on the affair, which we owe to the kindness of one the clvef employees in the office of the Chief Commissioner of Police. CHAPTER 111. CONFIDENTIAL NOTES ATTACHED TO THE OFFICIAL REPORT OF THE COMMISSIONER OF POLICE. "Acting on information received at 9 a.m. on the 20th October, IS—, to the effect that a crime had been committed in St. John's Wood, I hastened to the spot, after having called to my assistance, Superintendent Jeffrey, and Detective officer Forrester, who happened to be in my office at the time when the news reached me.

" On our arrival at No. C, we perceived that a crowd had assembled, large enough to frustrate the efforts made toAvards its dispersion by several constables. It was extremely difficult for us to reach the street door of the house.

" Opinions of all kinds, but for the most part contradictory, Avere held by the various groups through Avhich we made our Avay. But on one point they AA r ere all apparently agreed — that the name of the victim Avas Maurice Hardcastle, and that he Avas on the Exchange. . " One said that his Ayife, an Italian of great beauty, had arrived in the morning from a journey, and had given Avay to the most violent despair; a second declared that the assassin had been arrested, Avhilst a third maintained that nobody kneAV avlio had committed the crime.

" On going up the stairs Aye heard the following colloquy — " 'It Avas is Avife, perhaps— those Italian Avomen are capable of anything. ' "'Didn't you hear that she adored her husband ? '

"'Oh, they often seem to adore their husbands, but hate them all the time. '

" ' Well, then, she Avas not there at all ; she has only been back an hour.'

" ' Hah ! couldn't she have, had an accomplice Avho did the business ? That's simple.' " When Aye reached the room Avhere the crime had been committed, orders Avere at once givon to clear the staircase, shut the street door, and to allow no one to enter the house except the authorities.

" After having passed through the outer room and the dining and drawing-rooms, Avhere we did not remark anything unusual, and where the furniture appeared to occupy its usual place, we entered an elegant study.

" Here were two women who, overwhelmed with grief, did not appear to notice our entrance. One of them seemed to be the attendant or maid of the other. She was kneeling at the feet of her mistress, and held her hands as she murmured :— 'Courage ! courage ! dear Eleanor. You need your courage to avenge him.' " Suddenly, she who had been called Eleanor sprang to her feet, and cried—' Yes, yes ! I will avenge him ! I swear it ! ' " And she drew herself up and stretched out her hands, whilst her eyes sparkled with excitement. "The Detective leaned towards me and whispered in my ear— 'This woman's grief seems sincere enough ! I don't think anything of what we heard on the staircase.' [To he continued.^