Tales and Sketches THE THIRD VOLUME.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 5273, 1 June 1895, Page 1

Tales and Sketches THE THIRD VOLUME.

BY FERGUS HUME, Author of "The Mystery of a Hanaom Cab," " The Lone Inn," " The Chinese Jar," &c.

{All Bights Reserved.) Chapter XX. a pbecis op the oase. ' A mofith ago had anyone prophesied that I, Spenser Tait, would be engaged in - playing the part of an amateur detective, I Should have flatly contradicted his prognostication. Yet here lam doing my best to' Bolve the mystery which hanga Iround the death of my friend's father. I eannot say that I object to the task, for there iB something tremendously exciting in this man-hunt. My friendship for Claude iB the principal factor which induces me to meddle with the business ; bub a Blight flavouring of selfishness isalsopreHitherto we have been fairly successful, and have at least found a clue likely to lead to some certain result. Between Mrs Bezel, rHillisfcon, arid Linton's bbok we have learned a good deal of the case; and all our knowledge points to an interview with Jenny Paynton as the next step to be taken.

To-morrow we start for Thorston forthis purpose, but before exploring the new field I judge it wise to set down all the facts whioh hare come to our knowledge, and to deduce therefrom, if , possible, a logical reason for our future actions. I have my suspicions, bnt these are vague and intangible. Claude has hiß suspicions, but these do not coincide with mine. He believes Jeringham to be guilty of the crime. I think Hilliston is likely to prove the assassin. Both^of us may be wrong. To take tho casa of Mr Hilliston. Hia attitude ia decidedly aggressive at the present moment, and he ia doing his best to dissuade Claude from investigating the case. Why should he do bo? George Larcher was his dearest friend, and met with a cruel fate. If there is any chance of his fate being avenged, Burely Hilliston should be the firat. to • prosecute the enquiries. Instead of doing so he hangs baok, and throws cold water on my. efforts and on Claude's. He must have some reasonfor his actions. Is that reason to be found at Clarence Cottage in Hampstead?

This question brings me to a delicate point. My work is hampered by the fact that Mrs Bezel is Claude's mother, and I dare not express myself as I should wish. I gather froija the report of the trial that Mrs Larcher wbb a vain and silly coquette who threw away the love of a good man for the indulgence of her own selfish instincts. "Guilty Bhe may have been, . but not with Jeringham. It she had any lover, it wbb ■Francis Hilliston. After a visit to Clarence Cottage I believe the view taken of the caae by the novelist to be the right one. During my interview, with Mrs Bezel I rioted her every look and action. When j Hillieton's name occurred she flushed up j and looked savage ; she was anxious to know all about the wife at' Kensington: Gore, and m overy way. showed that she-! had 'more interest, ia the man" than v Bhe cared to confess. Again, she tdld me that her illness was of ten years duration. Hilliston has been married ten years. What is more' likely that he should have wearied of the invalid, and bo deserted her for Mrs Derrick, the rich widow. Mrs Bezel is jealous of Hilliston and of his wife. Her love has changed to hatred, and I verily believe that she would harm him if ehe conld. Already she baa j attempted to do so, for it was only her threat to reveal all to Claude that made Hilliston produce that report of the Larcher affair. She has told me all she knowß, but I cannot help thinking i that she Ib keeping back certain facts connected with the case. There is a hesitancy and doubt in her speech which points to some Bectet. If I could learn that secret it might establish the guilt ol Hilliston. And jet I cannot believe that. No woman however vain, however frivolous, would have lived with, the man who murdered her husband, who Blew the father of her child. Mrs Bezel's secret may not direotly inculpate Hilliston, but it may point towards him as the possible assassin. But I cannot believe that she thinki* him guilty. Their relations with ono another forbids bo horrible a supposition. Nevertheless Hilliston is afraid of the truth coming to light. He denies that the garnet aoarfpin ever existed, whiht Mra Bezel said she saw it herself. If the lawyer is not afraid, why should he tell a deliberate lie ? It is hia word against that of Mrs Bezel, and aa her statement is backed up by the description in the novel. I believe she is telling the truth. Can it be possible that the scarfpin belonged to Hilliston and was dropped by him in the garden of The Laurels on the night of the struggle?

Here Hilliston proves au alibi. He Btated to -Claude that at the hour of three o'clock, when the crime was presumably committed, he was at the ball in the Horriston Town Hail. If that can be proved be must perforce be innocent. Another supposition. Can Mrs Larcher be actually, guilty of her husband's death, and, 'knowing this, is Hilliaton anxious to Btop Claude in his investigations lest he should learn bo terrible a truth ? I cannot believe this, for Mrs Larcher, or Bezel, set the ball rolling herself, and were she guilty she certainly would not have run such risk.

' Then, again, Jeringham fled on the night pi the murder. For what reason? If Hilliston killed Larcher why Bhould Jeringham fly? If Mrs Bezel killed her husband why should Jeringham fly ? I see no reason in hia flight, and yet if he was guilty and Hilliaton knew him to be guilty why should he try and screen him at the present time ? Altogether, the case ia so confusing that I' do not know what to think or who to suspect. I wonder what- has become of Mona Bantry and her child ? Mrs Be'z3l said she had not seen the girl oc her brother for twently-five years. Yet they must be somewhere. Circumstances point to Jenny Paynton having heard the etory of the tragedy from Denis, for no one else could have revealed the episode of tbe ocarf-pin, or have described the jewel. If Denis told her he must live at Thorston, and if ho lives there hia Bister must ba with bim. If thiß pair, who were in the house on tho night of the murder, can be found, tho truth may come to light.

After searching Thorston and finding out all I can from the Bantrys— -presum-' ing thom tobe there— it is my intention to go down to Horriston and find out some one who remembers the case. In spite of the lapse of time there must be. some old people alive who danced at that ball iu their hot youth. They may be able to nay if George Larcher was there present in the character of Darnley, and at what time Hilliston left the ball. I may also hear what they think of Jeringham, and of the conduct of Mra Bezel. Ia making these investigations I shall not take Claude, as I shrewdly suspect the opinions of these oldsters regarding his mother aro anything but flattering to that Jady. If I goto Horriston I must go alono. Oa reading over these notes I am hardly satisfied with them. They do not seem to give me much basis on which to work. I suspect this person and the other, but I bave very little evidence to baok me up in

Buch suspicions. The only thing that aeema clear to m9 is that Hilliaton haa some object in thwarting our plans. What the object is I must find out. Perhaps I shall do so at Thorston, whore I am certain to meet both Hilliaton and his wife.

And that reminds mo of what Claude related about her emotion this evening. It ia certainly curious, but the worst of dabbling in detective business ib that ono ia. apt to get over suspicious. In this case I think there ia no ground for suspicion* Mrs Hilliston was in America, and came to England twelve years ago. I know this for certain, for I remember when she made her dtbut in Bociety. This being the case, she cannot possibly have any connection with Horriston, and her emotion must have been merely the recollection of the story related by her husband when he told her of Claude. WeU, it is past midnight, and I had better end these unsatisfactory notes. Detective business ia harder than I thought. How I am to evolve order out of all thia ohaos I hardly know, aave to trust to luck and Jenny Paynton. And bo to bed aa saith worthy Samuel Pepys. Chapter XXI. THOKBTOKV It is astonishing how closely one village resembles another 'ih appearance. The square-towered church* the one winding street, the low-roofed ian, and red tiled cottages, isolated by narrow alleys ; cornlands and oomfortable farms around, and still further, the mansions, more or kss etately, of the county families. Go where you will in, the southern counties, all the villages' are -ao constituted : one 'description serves for all, though on occasions the expanse of the Channel introduces a new feature into the, landscape. Thorston was of the same class, but, in its own opinion had more pretentions to grandeur than its neighbours. Before the Conquest it had been a considerable Saxon town, and as its name indicates, had flourished before the introduction of Christianity into England. I There, according to tradition, -a temple to Thor the Thunderer had stood on the hill novr crowned with the church ; hence the name of Thora town. Keporb said that Edward the Confessor had built the church, but of his work little remained and the present building was due to the piety or feara of a Norman baron, who wished to expiate his eihs after the fashion of those times, by erecting a house to some interceding saint. In the present instance this church was dedicated to St Elfrida. the holy daughter of Athelstan, who renounced her father's court to found a nunnery by the winding river Lav, famous for salmon as is plainly hinted by ita Scandinavian appellation. Tet notwithstanding church and tradi tiona Thorston had never since been of much importance, and it was now but an ordinary rural village, quaint and Bleepy. From Eaßtbourne the road, winding, dipping, rising and curving like a white snake, ran over hill, through dale, along plain, till it ultimately formed the High Street of Thorston. Thence it ran again into the country, but as thin point it made ita way between houses, thatched and old ; and towards the centre opened into a market place adorned by an antique cross. The Inn of Sb. Elfrida, with an effigy of the saint for a sign, stood on the. right of this square, fronting the "battered" broas'V'— direijtly- opposite- „...» riarrbw road led -on to the village green, at the end of which rose the low hill whereon the Church of St Elfrida stood amid its trees. Lower down by the Lax could be seen the ruins of her nunnery, and a well frequented by her was to be inspected in the near neighbourhood. Here, said the legend, she fought with the devil, who strove to carry away the tower of the church, and being worsted, as the demons always were by Mother Church, he dropped the tower a few yards off the main building. As a matter of fact the Bquare tower is detached from the church, but, as has before been stated, it was built by the Normana'long after Elfrida waa laid to rest. But the legend took no 'account of ! dates, nor did the natives of Thorston, who 1 would have been- highly offended had anyone denied the authenticity of their story. i In confirmation thereof they referred to the guide book :a notable authority truly. The whole neighbourhood was full of St Elfrida, who must have been a busy sunt in her day, and numerous tourists came to view church, and tower and holy well. The village derived quite an income from her reputation, . and valued the saint accordingly. Amid ancient oaks, stood the grey church with its detached tower ; around lichened touibatoneß leaned over one another, and rank grass grew up to the verge of the low stone wall which ran like a battlement round the crest of the little bill. A flight of rugged steps led up to the lych-gata, and here stood a pretty girl in converse with Frank Linton, alias John Parver.

Ib was a hot eummor'a day, and the golden light piercing through the foliage of the trees, enveloped the girl in a glittering haze. She was extremely pretty, daik eyed, dark haired, with o complexion of roses and lilies, and as neat a figure aa was ever seen. Envious people said that Miss Paynton pinched her waißt, but such was not the case, for she was too careleas of hor appearance, and too careful of her health to sacrifice the latter to the former. As a matter of fact, sho appreciated brain, mora than beauty, and much preferred to exorcise the first iu clever conversation than to be complimented on the second. Linton who had known her tor many years, skilfully com bined the two modes of playing homage to hiß divinity. That he received hard words in return was to be expected, for Jenny knew her power over the youth, and liked to exercise it. She was the least vain of mortals, bub could not bide from herself that she waa clever and pretty, and therefore entitled to indulge in coquetry.

"You grow more beautiful every day, Jenny," said Linton, who had lately arrived from town and was making up for lost time. " And you more stupid," retorted Mias Paynton, climbing up on the low wall, where Bhe eat and smiled at him from under her straw hat. "If you have come here to pay me compliments you can go away again. I want you to talk sense, not nonsense." " What shall I talk about ?" " An if there were any question of that," said she in supreme disdain. "Are you not famous now ? Tell me of your success." " Tou know about ifc already. I sent you all the papers. 'The Whim o. Fate' is. the book of the season." "Oh! juat- think of that now. Ob, lucky, lucky Frank ! Bo youiig aud so Buccessful. Tou ought to be happy." " I am happy because I now see a chance of making you my " "Now you are talking, nonsense," cried Jtmny, ruthlessly interrupting him. "I won't bear a word more, you ridiculous boy. You are my brother, nothing morel" «• But -" "Don't talk about it, Frank. Bo sensible. Como now, you hava not yet told me how your father received tho newa." " Oh, ho ia pleased, of course," said Linton, unwillingly changing the eubjeot, " but he reserves hia opinion till he has read iho book. I? he doesn't like it he'll very likely order me to Btop writing." "I'm sure ho won't," Baid Jenny promptly. "Tou'll make more as an author than aa a lawyer." "No doubt, if you continue to supply me with euch excellent plots. I wi.h £ had your invention, Jenny." [ "It was not invention. You know that

quite well. I found an -account of the trial in an old bundle of provincial newspapers. I couldn't have made up such a story." ■ " Jenny," asked . Linton with some apprehension, " has your father read the book?" " No ; I asked him to do so, but he refuses to road novels. History is what he likes— .kings, > and dates, and battles. Father wouldn't waste a minute over fiction." ■ ■ . ; . "I hope he won't bo angry at your giving me the plot, Jenny." Misa Payntcn stared at him in surprise, and^ burst into a merry laugh. His objection Eeemod supremely ridiculous to ner at that moment. "My dear boy, why should he P Tho account of an old murder case can have ndthing to do with him. I found the papers in-the garret among -a heap of old booke. I don't suppose he knowH of their existence." "It was a real case, wasn't it?" "Tes; it took place at Hor r is ton in 1866. But of course the public need not know that." , '" Well, I told some one about it." " Oh, you are an idiot, Frank ; or else," added Jenny, more graciously, "you are very honest, I suppose yon explained that the story was founded on fact ?" "Tea.". !" Who asked you about it ?" " Three people. An old gentleman and two young men." " What are their names ?" asked Jenny, curiously. , "I forget. The third one was called Tait, I think,., but I don't remember the names of the other two. Ib doesn't matter, you know," continued the novelist, hastily j "lots of authors found their plot3 on episodes in real lifo." " Ob, it's of no consequence," said Jenny, idly. " I suppose they tbought the plot wbb too clever for you toxinvenr, At. all events the credit ia due to you for Bolving the mystery." .■"Ah ! But did I solve it properly ? Do you think Michael Dene committed the crime?" " No, I don't," rejoined Jenny, promptly. " I think Jeringham did." "Jeringham? Who is he?" ■ *• "■ I "forget," said Jenny, with some dismay, "I did not tell you the real names of the people. Jeringham is the man you call Markham in the book. If you remember, I wanted you to make him commit the crime." *"If I- had done ao no one would haVe read the book," protested the author. "■ Hia flight made it so patent that he waß guilty ; and I had to put the crime on tc some one like Dene, whom no reader would auapect. Do you think that MBrkham—Jeringham really committed the murder?" " Tob I do. 'If he was innocent why did he fly " " Wab he ever found again," asked Linton, with sdule curiosity. "Never! It is five and twenty years ago since the murder was committed, and it is a mystery to this day." "I'd like to. read ttjat newspaper report for myselfj". said the author, after a pause. " Gould you: not let me see it ?" I Jenny shook her head' ." I'm afraid not," she replied, guiltily. " Ycu see Kerry found me with the papers one day and took them away. He wsb very angry, and said T. had no -business to look at tbem." i^Wy at*ro s '"*orie'd L^ fcoi-Pj '* 'what^willhe say when' he finds but j that you-and I have made use of them ?" i "He won't find out," replied Jenny, jumping down off the wall. " Kerry never i reads novels, and do one will tell him. Oh, it'a quite safe, Frank, quite safe." " I'm not so aure of that, Jenny. My father wiU talk about my book to Mr Paynton, and he'll tell Kerry." "Well, what if he does,"' cried Jenny, skipping down the steps. " I'm sure I don'c care if Kerry does know. Who carea for a musty fusty old crime of five and twenty years ago. Don't trouble about ib, Frank. I'll take the blame."

Linton walked on in silence beside her, and they entered the market-place on their way to the. vicarage. 3e was beginning to have some qualms about the matter. Kerry had a very bad temper, and Liuton was by no means anxious to encounter him.

"I wish we had- left it alone," he Baid, gloomily, pausing by the cross, in the square. " Nonsense ! Don'b ho a moral coward," said Jenny, petti-hly. " I'll take the blame on myself. Kerry can't kill me be— — " At this point she w&3 interrupted by a dog-cart containing two young men, which spun paat rapidly. The driver took oS hia hafc to Mies Payhton with a smile. " Oh 1" said Jenuy, composedly, when the vehicle had vanished, " there is our new Lord of the Manor, Mr Tait." "Why those are the two fellows who questioned me about my story," cried L.nton. " Are thoy ? Tes, you mentioned the name of Tait," eaid Jenny, quietly, " but what does it matter? What a fuss you make over nothing."

" Jenny," said Linton, solemnly, " there is going to be trouble over that story."

Mias Paynton stared at him in surprise, then pointed an accusing finger at him.

" FranCiß Linton," sho said, blo wiy, " you are a silly fool. If ever I help you again in your writing I give, you leave to marry me."

Then she ran away and left him dumbfounded in the market place. But she was by no means so light-hearted as Bhe appeared to be. Kerry's anger, the questions of the two strangers, mado her feel uneasy, and che thought it would have been better had she left the provincial newspapers in the garret. But Fato deoided otherwise, and Jenny Paynton, thought Bhe knew ic not, was an unconscious instrument to revive interest in a forgotten case, to solve a mystery of five-and-twenty years, and to bring an unknown criminal to justice. Lifo is a cheßS board, we are tho puppets, and Fate playß the game. (To be continued.)