HE SCALES OF JUSTICE.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 9221, 28 April 1908, Page 4

HE SCALES OF JUSTICE.

(By FRED M. WHITE.) _Ai_ Rights Reskrved.] CHAPTER XXIV. : THB LIGHT THAT _TAl___>. As will be remembered, Gilbert Doyle had "remained hidden in the belt of trees outside Breckland Lod&e; whilst George Drummond returned to Tower Royal. Doyle had made up his mind to stay there even if he had to Temain till diaylight. It seemed to him that he was on -file verge of some great discovery affecting his honour and future happiness, so that he was filled with the patience that follows a great resolution. He stood with his back to a tree and his teeth shut together —a resolute expression on his face. Tbe best part of an hour passed without anything taking place. People were leaving the castle now, for George oould hear the carriages one after another rolling along the road. It was tonne time later before one of them •paused and turned into tho gate leading to the lodge. The lamps were brilliant, so that Gilbert could see all •that was taking place. First came Beard, looking big and ifcrong. He stood in the full flare of the lamplight, so that there was no mistaking the burly figure If Gilbert had any doubt before, it was removed bow; beyond question, there stood the mysterious doctor of the ocean steamer, the man who had planned his ruin. Then came Madame Regnier, 1 or Mw Bunlop-Gordoi-, a» sho preferred to be called at preset.,. Gilbert felt. a grim satisfaction in taking in his enemies. He wondered what they would say if they knew how ' clone lie was to them. He saw the third man. alight; he could hear a fragment or two of the whispered conversation as the group stood on the doorstep after the carriage had driven round to tho stable-yard. " Go in. and wipe them out, I ehould ■ay," Beard growled. ''You talk like the villain of some cheap As if one did that kind of thing except in the slums of •ome large town. Would you bury the bodies in a lime-kiln, or how?" " And burn the motor-car as well," the third man sneered. Gilbert rightly judged the third man to be Ronald Uardrew.. " There must be some more ingenious way than that, Beard." • " Well, let us go and get it over," Beard replied. "The best thing to be done is to send all the servants to lied, your own maid included. We don't Want "any eavesdropping here." The door opened, and the form of a footman stood out in the strong light .for a moment. Gilbert could see that the.-house was lighted by electricity. Then, the door closed, and presently a shadow or two flitted across the blinds in the drawing-room. With a view to hearing what was taking place, Gilbert crept across the gra_*_ and stood close to the w___dow. He was conscious of a confused murmur of voices; then there was a woman's 6cream, and a figure came staggering back heavily against the window, and one of the t)lg sheets of plate-glass cracked and scattered all over the grass outside. .Gilbert felt his pulse quivering. He . would have given much to be inside at that minute. But the outburst seemed - toy have passed as quickly as it hao arisen, for a silence followed, and then •omebody inside laughed with a suggestdon of humour. *' T am: sure there is no occasion for anything of this kind," a woman said. Gilbert recogiised that voioe with a thrill of'remembrance. It was Madame Regnier who spoke. The conversation could be plainly heard now. " James, ■ire have nad an accident, and broke one of the windows. No, you need not: trouble about it now. Captain Cardrew will put the shutters to befoie lie /goes to bed. Bring in the suppertray and a box of cigarettes, and then ▼ou can all retire. We shall want nothing else to-night." The voice was singularly clear and even, Gilbert thought. But then Madame Regnier had ever been a woman who had her nerves under perfect control. Another silence followed; there was the musical tinkle of crystal glasses ; then the scratching of matches, followed by the closing of the dining-room njfooT. TJ'e blind obscured Gilbert's vision, The oould not see in the least what was going on now; but he judged that the footman had done all, that was demanded of him and retired for the night. ■ "Well, I suppose you Tegard this as being tolerably free and easy," one of the strangers said. It was not difficult to follow his American accent. " Didn't expect to see me, eh, Beard?" , "I didn't," Beard responded. \ "I hoped that I should never look on your face again. And if you think that you can come here to play your Southern tricks you are mistaken. It's all very well out yonder, where the strong arm is a law in itself, but not in England. Besides, I am protected as long is the child lives." "So long as your daughter remains alive—yes, the other stranger said. He bad a deeper voice than his confederate,', as Gilbert did not fail to notice. "But she is very ill." "Yes, but she is getting gradually _et_er," Beard cried eagerly. "Under my care she will become quite strong fchd well again. She was going to marry a scoundrel, who was stolen away from her side at the altar itself. It was a merciful escape for the poor . ____ild, but the shock nearly killed her, Deb-mere." " We should like to see your daughter Winifred," the first American ex"fkmed. Gilbert pinched himself to make suto \at he was awake. There could be no . aestion of the fact that these irangers were discussing Winifred swdor as Beard'B daughter ! And Gilsrfc had known Mary and Winifred awdor for years. He had known the srl's father before he died. There . nst be some strange mistake here. ' » "We have come four thousand miles t see the 'child," the deep-voiced ranger s_-_d. v " And so you shall," Beard growled. T admit that you have ihe right on Mir side." "Well, yes, seeing that she is the mgjht-er of our own sister," the deep-

voiced went on. "It is now oi-ts-and-twenty years ago to-morrow since you came out to' Virginia on what you called a scientific expedition. We cxl tended you the same hospitality that we give to all educated strangers; we were kind to you, though we have our racial pride. Our pride is as the pride of the Jews — we look upon ourselves as a race apart. And we are as particular whom our women marry as the highest caste tribes in India. Tlie, idea that you would look upon Ada with eyes of affection never dawned upon us. " But you did look with eyes of affection upon her; you asked her to be your wife. You thought she was an heiress, but she was nothing of the kind. We laughed your proposal to scorn; we did not desire to let our blood mingle with you re. You wont away, *,n& after a time Ada followed you, and you were married in New York. "We had the right to till you. No Virginian jury would have called that a crime. You were marked down as the victim of the oldest and sternest vendetta in the world. We found you at la-st in California, and we came to take your lite. That was only a little over a year after your marriage. You happened to be away on business at the time, which probably accounts for the fact that you are standing so big and strong on that hearthrug to-night. We found our sister with a tiny child in her arms, and she was starving. You had gone away, and abandoned her to her fate. That is why I kicked you through the window when you entered the room. If I had had a revolver in my hand I should have shot you. But my brother, who is cooler than I am, suggested a quieter way of dealing with the matter. I apologise for the blow in the presence 'of a lady. Madame Regnier, as a lady and a \irginian herself, forgives me. ''Let it be taken for granted, and get on,"' Madame Regnier said coolly. "There is not much more to say. We were going to kill that man. But we loved our sister in spite of all that she had done, and Beard wae her hue- ! band. We took her home, and we promised to spare that man's life. But we did not promise to spare him after a certain time; we did not promise to spare him after our sister's death. For twenty years he has imagined that he has given us the go-by, and that his whereabouts were not known to us. He is quite wrong, for we have known all his movements for many years. But our sister is dead, and we are free of our promise: Somebody must have warned him, for he failed to walk into our trap in the woods the other night. Not that we went to kill him there and then— oh, no 1 We had a better plan than that. W_at it is he will know in good time. At present, he is _ spared for the sake of his daughter, our sister' 6 child." . The speaker paused. Gilbert could hear somebody walking heavily up and down the room, and judged that it was the man Beard. "In the name of common-sense, let us have done with, this silly mystery, the latter cried. " What is it that you require us to do? I know that you regard the stranger and settler in your part of the world much as you Tegard a nigger, and would as soon see your womankind allied to one. But the thing is not exactly a crime." "Well, we think otherwise," the deep-voiced one said. "It was a crime to steal away our sister and abandon her in the way you did, and we take our vengeance for those things. An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth is our stern motto, as many a scoundrel knows to his cost. The law is ours instead of the tribunal that you set up in England. But you are not g<>i»-_ to escape your punishment; and Madame Regnier, whose assistance you needed to carry out your schemes, is not going to escape hers. Perhaps not to-day, perhaps not to-morrow, but yet as surely as the sun rises in the East. Do you leave here to-night. Beard? "I go home, of course," Beard said sulkily. "I shall probably walk." "No, you will go in our car, which is waiting in the stables for us. We are going to drive you over and spend the night with you at the Moat House. You need not worry about beds for us, as we are old campaigners,, and can settle down anywhere. We are not going to let you out of our sight again ; we are so fond of you that we are going to lock you in your bedroom., 80 that you can't be up to any of your tricks before daylight. And if the discov/ery that we have made does not prove " "You are going too far," said the other man. "Do not spoil the thing prematurely. Now, Beard, are you ready to come with us?" Beard was understood to growl that he had no choice. The conversation broke off abruptly at this point; there were shuffling feet inside, and somebody pulled back the blind so quick., that the listener outside had barely time to hide himself. It was Cardrew making sure that the catch of the window was fastened before he pushed j_nd barred the shutters. ( j ' There was not much chance of learning anything further, as Gilbert told himself ; bnt, cold as he was, he decided not to strike for the cottage so long as Beard remained there. From his hid-ing-place in. the belt of trees he saw Beard emerge ; he saw the great car dragged into the flashing lights shining on the gravel of the drive. He saw Madame Regnier on the doorstep smiling and cool as if she were watching the departure of a few intimate friends. Then the car hummed and hissed round, and finally slid past the gates of the lodge. It hummed off down tho road, and then there was silence. "Well, what do you think of it?" a voice said, so close to Gilbert that he faifly jumped with surprise. "Did you get a grip of bhe conversation?" Gilbert knew the voice now. It was that of Marston. How long had the latter been there, and hnw much had he seen? Gilbert wanted to know. "I 'saw your shadow against tbe light of the room," Marston explained. "If a footman had come along it jjould have been awkward for you. I'll go your way. and you can tell me ex--1 actiy what you heard. And perhaps you will find it to your advantage to speak quite freely. Beard's past holds no secrets from me. Now, did they happen to say anything relating , closely to .Miss Winifred Cawdor?" . I (To be continued next Monday.) \