THE RESULT OF AN ADVERTISEMENT.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 5739, 5 December 1896, Page 2

THE RESULT OF AN ADVERTISEMENT.

[By S. Squibe Sprigge.] (Sport ing and Dramnlic lYaicc) "You cannot get on nowadays unless fellows talk about you," said Mr Eoberfe Davontry. " There is no use in telling me that if I get on first the talk will follow, for it is not true. That was the old -way. I've read heaps of yarns about it. Hard labour succeeded by due reward. Modest effort overnight waking up to find itself famous in the morning. London running about saying, 'Have you soen Johnson's Romeo?* Superb!' or 'Wore you there when Diekson cross - examined her ? Brutal !' That was the old way, I say. Nowadays it's the talk first and the success afterwards, and the more talk the more success. Why was Johnson allowed to play Eomeo at the Folies Drainatiques ? Because he could act ? or because when he went on tho stage all the society papers fell to pointing out what an awfully nice fellow lie was and that his latest move would break his father's heart ? Or because he was golf champion of North Wales and because the sporting papers had made his name a household word ? Why did Dickson get briefs ? Because he was a distinguished law-student H Or because everybody talked of him as Mrs Diekson's husband? You may say that they both turned out successes — that they both justified public appreciation? Quite so! Quite so ! But, and here's the pomt — they were talked about first and succeeded afterwards. Why, there's no rubbishing yarn I couldn't sell to the public if I was t only known as a Mahatma. I should get a big practice at the Bar if men would go about swearing that I was the illegitimate son of a Begum. And why am I kept at ' My Lord, the carriage waits/ or ' Dinner is served, my Lady ?' Is it because they know T can't act ? Not at all. It's because they don't know that 1 can do something totally different. It's because nobody knows anything about me at all. That's all! But it can't go on much longer. " I will be known." For Eobert Daventry was seriously discouraged; so much so, that he did not strive to be just or accurate in his speech. Unappreciativo publishers had sent back his novel, callous editors had rejected his articles, two years' close attendance at the courts had not brought him in enough to pay for his wig, while a recent attempt to win fame before the footlights had borne no fruits. "I will be heard of," ho continued, addressing a group of highly unsympathetic friends in the smoking room of his club. " I will be heard of, and one day you shall all go about swaggering that you knew me to speak to, and your female cousins, when they hear it from you, will say, ' Eeally, how awfully nice !' And it won't be very long before I man age it somehow." Whereat all his friends laughed consumedly. For Robert Daventry was considered a very ordinary person. * * * * # One day he mado a little excursion up the river with a lady, and achieved almost immediately his heart's desire. For he became heard of and very distinctty. Within a few hours not to know of him was to argue one's self a dullard. Within a few hours his house-mates at school and his tutors at college had been interviewed. Within a few hours his photographs were on sale in shop windows, and no less than nine females communicated to him a desire to marry him, contingent upon his ability to marry them. Not one of them doubted his willingness, though each admitted that her proposal was a little forward. And this is how it came about. Eobert and his companion Miss Vera Vernou, a young lady who had recently commenced an artistic career at the same theatre as the one where he was engaged, secured a railway carriage to themselves. Miss Vernon was not a reposeful perso x n and could not make up her mind whether she would sit facing tho engine or looking away from it. She tried one corner, and then another, and finally propped herself up against the handle of the door and appealed to Eobert to settle the difficult question for her. Eobert suggested that she should sit with her back towards the engine. To this she asked, How could she when it always made her sick, as he knew very well. He suggested that being the case, that she should face the direction in which they were travelling, but was immediately posed by the retort that to do so always gave her a bad cold in the head. With unimpaired good temper he recommended her to sit on the floor. "I£ you can't think of anything 'wiser than that," said she, pouting as she looked at her smart frilled skirt, " I think I'll call the guard ;" and she leant out of the window backwards and made a feint of reaching for the cord that on most lines pretends to be a means of communication between that functionary and the passengers. As she did so the door of the railway carriage on which she was half leaning and half sitting flew open. Eobert Daventry leaped forward. Ho could not quite reach her skirts as she sank backwards out of the carriage, but she clutched wildly and desperately in the direction of his outstretched arm, by good fortune secured it, and was saved. " That was a shave, young woman." said ho, as he settled her on a seat regardless of its aspect in relation to tho engine, and adjusted his wristband, which had been almost torn off his shirt, and looked ruefully at his scratched hand. "I was nearly killed, Bob," said she, laughing a little hysterically. "If I had fallen out," she added, "it might have been very awkward for you, for " people would certainly have said that you threw me out of the carriage." " It would have looked like it," said he. • "Just like it," said she, laughing now that her terror was past. " I saw a man at the window of tho next carriage looking out at me when I was reaching \vp for tho cord ; I know he thought something wrong was going on." And sure enough at the next station a man came and peered curiously in upon them. "That's him," said the girl; "he's worrying about me. I'll give him something to worry about," she added. And when he passed the window again, which he did under the stimulus of evident anxiety, this excellent young mimic threw a stage glance of horror at him, and half raised her clasped hands and wrung them for his benefit convulsively, after the manner of certain recent lessons she had received upon the boards. She looked at Eobert to ask him to appreciate her humour, but he was apparently buried in thought. "What's up, E i° b? '» slie aslced ; "whafs the latest plan? But he did not answer; his eyes were shining and his lips were moving A stranger might have uncharitably concluded that he was a little iusane. But his companion knew him and knew that he was only meditating deeply, and that the result would be speedily forthcoming in some wild, silly language. For, to tell the truth, he often bored hur, aa he did his club

bitterness of being unknown and his determination to alter such a state of things immediately. " We'll do it," he said, suddenly breaking silence. "It -will bo splendid." And then and there he unfolded the project, which his brain had rapidly formed on tho hint contained in his companion's words. "We will go to the Horn, have some lunch, and start for a row. I -will land you near X station, and you shall run up to town by the first train you can catch. Leave your hat on the bank. I will return to the inn alone and pay for the boat, and come up by the next train. The passer-by who finds your hat will conclude that you are drowned. We w- ill \ dine together at K 's, whore I will meet you, and -we will read the paragraphs in the evening papers about ''the mysterious disappearance of a. young lady/ 'supposed drowning fatality,' and so on. Then when those editors have quite done making public asses of themselves, 1" shall explain that the hat was left there to see what would happen, and point out how wildly the ordinary newspaper people jump at conclusions for the sake of sensation. I shall explain that all we did was really a plant upon them. Then all those papers will have to talk about me and you. I shall send my photograph to the illustrated ones. I should think some manager might see that I am the man for a real good drama. I am sure they would give me better parts if I brought off a little score of that sort and got it mentioned in the Press. Why, it's just the sort of joke Sothern was always concocting, and he played any part he liked. Let's try it! What do you say ? " The lady thought it would not be a bad joke, supposing it was necessary to make a joke at all, but rather demurred at leaving her hat on the bank. " I dare say you think this is an ordinary sort of hat," she said, raising her hand reverentially and touching a mass of roses, corn-cockles, feathers and paste buckles, "but I gave— well, a month's salary for it." " I'll get you another one," said Robert. "If you don't leave something pretty visible on the bank the casual passer-by will not detect the presence of the crime. Every one knows that a hat on the bank is the recognised sign of a body in the water, and I don't think even a village policeman could overlook that hat if it was dropped anywhere oa his beat. You can wear my cap up to town, and we'll buy another hat to-morrow." It fell out that in the street of the village where it was proposed to have luncheon and to hire their boat, Mr Robert Daventry saw a lady of his acquaintance coming towards them. Now his friends had not altered in their demeanour because he had deserted the bar, where he was not wanted, for the stage, where he did not appear to be in any greater demand. They were too modern for such views as well as too liberal minded. But the sight of this lady in her workmanlike flannel, surmounted by a plain sailor hat, mo.de him suddenly conscious of Miss Yera Vernou's extreme - splendour of attire, and he knew instinctively that a meeting would be awkward. The two girls did not belong to the same world ; they looked at things from a totally different point' of view, and to introduce them to each other woul4 give pleasure to neither. He turned up an alley rather abruptly. As he might have expected, this move did not escape his companion's notice, who began cross-examining him on the subject during luncheon. Robert, intent upon his scheme, was not inclined to waste time in. idle words, and said so with an abruptness that proved exasperating. " Yon coward ! You are ashamed to be seen with me !" said' Miss Vera loudly. Robert replied in his turn a little angry — for no one likes to be called a coward — " Perhaps you think 1 ought to introduce you about the place as the girl I am going to marry ?" Then the waiter was- seen standing iuside the door seeking an opportunity to announce to the visitors that their boat was ready. So they laughed and were friends again. They were a little nervous as they went down to the water. Indeed, it is hard not to bo nervous when on the edge of perpetrating a foolish joke. It is only themost practised and callous performer who can venture boldly where failure must entail ridicule, and neither of these young people had the nerves or the experience of Sothern. Robert sculled in silence up stream until he reached a spot admirably suited to their purpose. This was a small reach about four hundred yards long, and hidden from the gaze of anyone who chanced to be above or below by the abrupt winding of the stream. Here he turned into the bank and helped his accomplice out. " Leave your hat," he said, "and run up stream about a quarter of a mile and you will see the Great Western station quite near the bank. Here's my cap. X t? at 8.30. I'll get the table in the first window. Shove her out with your foot. Got any money ? All right !" He turned and began sculling back. She, in obedience to his instructions, began running along the tow-path in the opposite direction. As she did so she turned every now and again to watch him, for he was a good-looking man, .and the sculling action suited him. Seeing which he took one of his hands off his sculls every now and then and waved a little encouragement to her in the prosecui ion of their splendid joke. And he came to the down corner and she came to the up corner and he began to disappear from her gaze, and she hung over the brink to watch him. and alas, she slipped. Vainly she clutched at all within her grasp ; the rotten twigs snapped, the rotten bank yielded, she slid further and fell iv. Two hours later the body was found by a passer-by who noticed the hat lying on the bank just below the fatal spot. Mr Robert Daventry 's cap was convulsively clutched in the girl's grasp. In the crown of it was written his name. * * # * * In the meantime the gentleman had further elaborated his joke. Why should there only be one person drowned ? Why not two or more ? And was a hat enough evidence of an accident ? Was it not possible that some felonious female should come along and, recking little of tho inner meaning of tho head-gear on the towingpath, should annex it and very carefully abstain from giving to her discovery the desirable publicity. Decidedly ji hat was not enough. But about the meaning of a boat with its keel turned skyward, there could be no hesitation. To think was to act. Your practical joker is above all things careless of the personal property of other people. Robert headed for the opposite bank to that on which he had landed Miss Vera, Vornon, sprang out, and turned the boat bottom uppermost and sent it spinning with a kick down stream. Then he walked rapidly to the nearest railway station, on the south-Avestern track. As ho drew near, a train going in the direction of London came into sight, steaming slowly .along the valley. He decided to try and catch this by running straight across the two fields that lay between him and his station instead of going, round by the highway. He was successful, aud threw himself panting into the last carriage us it glided away from the platform. At Clapham Junction an official asked austerely for his ticket. Robert confessed to not having purchased , one before entering the train, and thought it a good occasion to rally the collector on the dryness of the official demeanour. The collector was hot, tired and busy, and eyed Robert sourly. If ho could have formulated a charge against him ho would have done so, and Robert, perceiving this, continued to think that it was droll to chaff the man. By 8.30 Robert was seated in tho first window next to the entrance at K *s, having left word at his chambers that if Miss Vera Vernon called for him she was to be told that he was already gone to the restaurant. By nine o'clock she had not arrived, and Robert ordered dinner-, and asked the waiter to bring I'irn n, paper. lC No news, Fritz ? " he s'vid, as he opened W. Strange and Co.'s good tailoring {

the sheet. Fritz thought there was no news. " Nobody dead ? No fires ? K o tragedies ? No young' women found drowned? No— Hullo f" A shadow -fall across the paper and he looked up to find a man standing over liim. <f Hullo ? Mi* Robert Daventry, I believe ? Yes, lam Mr Robert Daventry, but you have the advantage of me." # * * * * Robert was arrested for murder and fully committed on the charge. Before the judge tho following points were clearly made out by the prosecution : — , (1) On the afternoon of the murder lie had been recognised by a lady walking with the unfortunate girl, and had tried to escape' notice by concealing himself. (2) He had quarrelled -with the deceased at the Horn Inn before starting on the fatal expedition, and had said that he would not marry her. He looted very pale on starting. These facts were contributed by the waiter at the Horn, (3) Later he was seen by a man working in the fields to tum'his boat over and kick it down stream, and than to start running into the country. (4) The guard of the train swore to his having no ticket on arrival in London that evening and no hat, and to his being very odd in his manner, so odd that the guard remembered him well, and would swear to him anywhere. (5) When arrested his hand was severely scratched, -while examination of the shirt that he had worn showed that one cuff was nearly torn off. (6) There were signs of a scuffle on the the bank, and the victim had the prisoner's cap in her hand. (7) A man came forward to tell a most suggestive incident which he ha.d witnessed when travelling out from London by tho same train as Robert and Miss Yera Vernon. He chanced to be in the next carriage and saw Miss Vernon lean out of window and reach for the rope communicating with the guard. The next moment it seemed to hini that the door came open, and that an attempt was made to push the unfortunate girl on to the lino. He-uoticed the pair again at the next station, when ho thought that the girl gave liim an appealing glance. Before he could act on it, however, the train started., and lie tried to comfort himself by believing that he had witnessed an abortive attempt at outrage. When he read the story of the recovery of the corpse and the arrest of the supposed murderer, he communicated with the coroner, and identified the body as that of the girl inf question- and the 'prisoner as hor companion. (8) The detective who effected Robert's arrest swore that before he could caution him to be silent he heard him ask tho waiter if any bodies^ of drowned girle had ■been found. This was before the discovery had beenpublished in the Press. The theory of the*prosecution was that the prisoner had been strolling along the bank with the unforfcunate^icl — the mark where the boat had been put in had been found — that, ho had .quarrelled with her and pushed her into the river. That ho had then rowed a little way from the spot and turned the boat over, hoping to make his act appear the result of an accident. For the defence the true story was told. He was found guilty. In reply to the awful question of the judge whether he had anything to say why the utmost penalty should not be inflicted, he said, " My Lord, it was all a joke." *** * * f Many have sung and many have narrated the charms of mediocrity, but no one appreciates it highly for himself. Pew consider themselves commonplace people. Yet occasionally it will be borne in upon a man that he is but an average specimen. Sometimes he will sit down under his fate .ana will court only the average destiny ; holding all public achievements as very wondrous, for in this way his inability to perform them may bo best excused. Sometimes he will turn hither and thither vaguely, hnmodly, inconsequent]}', if haply he may cheat his own mediocrity, or encompass fame by some rapid bye-path. Robert Daventry was mediocre, and his soul loathed mediocrity. And he did not die for nothing. Notoriety-he obtained in the ivay we have indicated, and oven some measure of literary success became his, for the Evening Scorpion had in their ofiice a manuscript signed with tho assassin's name, to which he had afiixed stamps to defray the return postage to him in caso of rejection. The editor promptly published the story with a portrait of Robert and a facsimile of his signature attached, and he sold two editions of the paper on the day of issue.