TRICKS AT NIGHT.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 1375, 24 July 1872, Page 3

TRICKS AT NIGHT.

(From the Argosy.') (Continued.) Ruish> standing by me to watch my fiugers, busy with the herbs, stgle a quiet glance at Jenkins,, and Jenkins stole one back at her I saw all,, never seeming to lift my eyes from the green leaves. I " What a odd thing 1" cried Jenkins ;. " I 'thought them lights in the spare room was never lighted at all." " That has nothing to do with it. The strange part is that they should light -when there was no gas in the pipes. There could not have been, you know, being turned off at the main." "I should thiuk, ma'am, you must have been a dreaming !" The impudence of the woman to say that, rt was upon the tip of my tongue to tell her more, but I held it— in time. " I was not dreaming, I assure you, Jenkins ?" " And wh it time might it have been, ma'am ?" asked Ruth. " Time ? After twelve." " Then I'll vow and declare as there wasn't no gas turned on here at that hour !" cried she as strenuously as her weak chest allowed her to speak. " Gas on here at midnight ! What next ?" " Oh, well, Jenkins,", I said, afraid of making a storm," and goodness knew what consequences besides, "perhaps I was mis taken." "And I'm sure you were, ma'am," returned Jenkins bluntly. But it did not escape me that Ruth looked just as uneasy as it was possible for a girl to look. And I nearly spoke my thoughts aloud. " The arch deceivers J" That night I told Robert that we ought to make it known; that it was a simple duty to do it; but I might just as well have spoken to a post. " Look here, Nelly. Dunn has enough to worry him just now without being bothered with petty annoyances." " What has he to worry him, Robert ?" " I don't know," was my husband's answer. " It's something. I happened to tell Dunn he was not looking well, and he then saidi that he was nearly done up with some private worry that* he* could not speak of." Rather strange to say, on the following day, Sunday, we were destined to hear what this wo:ry was. After supper, we gathered i round the large fire— for it was very cold agp'n, quite like winter— and Ruth was told to bung up some hot water and put the wine end spirits on the table. Miss Massingham was away for a day or two ; but Mr Mowbray sat with us. I and my husband had been to the Temple in the morning ; and the conversation fell upon the sermon we had heard there, preached by the master. Its subject had been the troubles of Jife, and the consolation to be found when suffering from them. " Well, I don't know what consolation I could find, or where to look for it," cried Mr Dunn, breaking a pause ; " and I am sure my troubles just now are heavy enough." " I suppose yours are business troubles ?" remarked my husband ; " one cannot apply religion always to them." " Yes, they are business troubles, Wyatt," he answered, speaking with sharp emphasis; " and if I can't come to the bottom of them, they'll go pretty far towards tormenting me into my grave." One word brought out another. Ido not think he had the least intention of telling us what b ; 8 troubles were; but he got led on by the excitement of intercourse. It often happens so. Most lawyers have, I suppose, a kind of speciality : one firm applying itself to one particular branch of business, one to another; and so on. Mr Dunn's was famed for what he called delicate cases: meaning, as I understood it, cases that required delicate handling and strict secrecy. At the present time he had one such in his hands of vast importance; and kis trouble was caused by a system of constant baffling from the other side.

Every move he made was checked 'before,, so to say, it could well be made; every bib of information he, by dint of much care and labor-, obtained, was no sooner in his possession than it became known to the opposition? lawyers, Tinker and Teal. After striving tofathom this inexplicable annoyance for some time, and to parry it in the best, way he could, Mr Dunn, wearied- outi mortified, dejected, had come to the inevitable conclusion that he was being betrayed; though how it could be done, or ;Vom wHt-qrirter, he was at a loss to conceive. "The tY'ng seems e]^r enough," spoke Robe..; too hasti'y, r'ter listening ;" the paivies from whom you get your information must hand it eqvilly to>the other side." " No," seid Mr Dunn* " some of the things that have become known to tl em are confined to myself absolutely. Not a sou 1 , else in the world has had the slighest cognizance of them. The ve.y thoughts of my tuind^-and I know I am not exaggerating in saying it — have been handed over to Tinker and Teal. Regular tinkers they are, between ourselves: would stoop to any diriy work, r ots of money, though; can. bribe away right and left, and do do it " " Why.howcan they get at your thoughts?" cried Robert. " That's the question, Wyatt. My absolutely unbreathed' thoughts of course they cannot get at ; ; but.they do get them- as soon as they are embodied on paper. It is taking rather too much>out of me, just now, in- the shape of peace." " I'm sure the way he tosses and turns about in bed at night, and gets up before it's well morning, light, because he ca»'t ? { e, is enougi to throw him into a fever,'" grumbled Mrs Dunn, snatching up her gown- from the fury of tbs-flre, and putting down over it her watered siHc apron. " I get ap because I bafe!i%k to do, Margaret, said Mr Dunn." " A\ndi*f you don't mind,, it will end in a fever,'* she concluded; "things have never been like this aU the years that we've been married." %t Because affairs have never been like this, tpok here, I'll tell you the last move in the drama," continued he; "and -it is puzzling iiruy very wits out of me. On Monday last I .idr-ew out a paper embodying certain informr- ■ tion that I had received, elaborating my : opinion on it, and the course I thought we ought to pursue. That paper lay locked in my desk, unlooked at, untouched, until Wednesday morning, when our client, for whom [we are acting, called. She is a lady, I may jri well say. I went over the paper with her, pointed out this, explained that ; for two | hours, I should think, she was in*my office; and when she was about to depart, I, before her eyes, burnt the paper. It was too valuable to retain. Well, will you believe that yesterday afternoon I became sure, from certain movements of Tinker and Teal, that they have in some way obtained knowledge of the contents of that paper ?" We sat in silence, at a loss for an answer. Mr Mowbray, who had his chin on his hand, and his wondering eyes fixed on his master, spoke. " The thing seems impossible, sir ; how do do you account for it ?" " I can't account for it," cried Mr Dunn. " What I say, Mowbray, is, that the thing is totally unaccountable. It seems to be one of two things, sir ; either the paper you drew out must have been seen, or else the information that it contained was supplied to Tinker's people as well as to you." " To me it reems to be one of two other things," was the retort. " Either nay client herself has betrayed counsel, or I must have talked in my sleep." i " Good gracious ! — and what if yon &'°d talk in your sleep ?" cried Mrs Dunn, taking the words seriously ; " there'd be no one to hear you but me, and I should be asleep, too." " Just so," said he ; i( and there's no more likelihood that my client would talk, — she has too much at stake. Honestly speaking, I see no practicability of the contents of my parchments and the contents of my mind getting into Tinker and Teal's office ; and yet they do get there." "Do I understand you that the contents of your parchments tret to them ?" asked Robert. " It is the contents of the parchments that do get to them, Wyatt. The case involves fresh memoranda, if not fresh deeds almost daily ; and Tinker and Teal get to know their substance as quickly as I do myself— or next door to it." " Who draws out the deeds and memoranda ?" " I do, always. I don't even trust Mowbray here with them. The nature of the case is moat onerous — almost involving ' : fe or death." "And what becomes of the deeds when drawn ?" " They are left in the private drawer of my desk, in my own private room—the back office, you know. The key of the desk is never out of my possession. 1 ' " Is it one of those pa^-nt locks of worldwide fame that skeletons won't undo ?" went on Robert. ' I often wish I had got one of them for my official papers over the water I" "It is only an ordinary lock," said Mr Dunn ; "but there's not a chance of anybody's getting to the desk, though be had a skeleton ; for I am in the room from sunrise to sunset." " Well, it seems very strange 1" '• It's more than strange,— it's magical 1" " And it is very disagreeable," put in the confidential clerk. " I can bear Mr Dunn out in what he says— that no one can possibly get the chance of tampering with any lock in his private room ; but, nevertheless, it is an unpleasant thing for as all in the office. How was it you neves told me of tlm before, sir ?" , - " Well, Moyfbrayy the truth is, I have hated to speak of- IV' Where was the use, either ? You can't fathom it any more than I can." (To be continued.)