MR BAGSHAW'S CONVICT.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 9424, 24 December 1908, Page 4

MR BAGSHAW'S CONVICT.

(By TOM GALLON.) : [All Rights Reserved.] On a certain Christmas Eve not / many years ago Mr Peter Bagshaw, after a* late afternoon walk, which he never under any circumstances omitted from his orderly day, turned his back on the little town ot Rio.ge Green, and turned his face in so doing towards his own home, some five miles from it. And as he did so, and felt a gust of icy wind blowing about him, it must oe confessed that he shuddered. 1 Let it be said at once that he lived in a very lonely house on the edge of Hangman's Heath. He always felt resentful to the person or persons who ■ had been responsible for that naming j of s the place whenever he came near j it. But that he was afraid of dogs, i he would have kept one for protection. | Now, as he came in the gathering dusk of this Christmas Eve towards that lonely house of his he was startled out of a second shuddering fit into which he had fallen by hearing the loud clanging of a bell ra the distance. Peter Bagshaw stopped in the road and looited nervously about him. "A convict escaped!" muttered Pqter. " What possessed me to take this wretched house, and to live down here? Clara and 1 were so comfortable in our little flat in London, although it was noisy. I'm quite willing to admit that this place looked very nice in summer, and they say it's healthy; but it isn't much use being ! healthy if you're going to be murdered ! in your bed some night." On coming within sight of the warm' ly-lit windows of his house Mr Bagshaw cheered up a little. After all, here was peace and safety. Moreover, there was Clara — sweetest of young wives — actually waiting on the doorstep to welcome him. Almost it may be said that Peter aiid Clara fell into each other's arms. : "My darling Peter — you can't tell ' how anxious I've been J" she exclaimi cd. "I've been listening to that horrid bell, and have been picturing you having a desperate encounter with a hunted convict, and. being overpowered, and your clothes stripped away '■. from you — and all sorts of dreadful i things." I " Well, my love, it would have had | to have been a vary small-sized con- J : vict to change clothes with me," said i i Peter, jestingly. j " Don't joke about your size, Peter,'' I said Clara, reprovingly. " Inches do not make the man. I know that if you were put to the test you would prove heroic in an emergency. How i T wish that horrible bell would stop ! : How I wish we were further away from that prison !" They were presently seated comfortably over the fire discussing tea ; the sound of the far-off bell had been shut out. Mrs Peter Bagshaw, noticing two perplexed lines on her husband's forehead, slipped across and drew a little forefinger across his brow, to smooth them out. " Peter — you're worrying about something," she admonished him. "My love — to bo quite frank with you — I am," he answered. "You may as well know the worst now as at any | other time. I'm worrying about our prospects — my prospects, I may say. Our money is coming to an end." " But you'll make more one of these da^s." she suggested. Peter shook his head Eloomily. " T'm not so sure about that." ho answered. j "You see, my love, when I married ! you I had a litfle capital, loft me by ; that devoted mother who is now among j ; the saints, and on that capital we I have been living. Our honeymoon was J delightful but_ expensive; we have not been careful in our expenditure. I fully expected that the pictures I , paint would bring in a considerable sura of money; hitherto they nave only been given to frionds. in the hope ' that those friends misht talk about mo I and get me commissions. I wouldn't sadden you for the world, Clara, but this promises* to be rather a poor sort of Christmas, so far as looking forward goes." "You are too pessimistic, Peter, dear," said his wife. " Just bora use it is Christmas you ought to bo cheerful and happy. T am perfectly mnj vinced that something good is going to happen to vs — and that soon." " Upon my word, my love, you put heart into me." exclaimed Peter, brightening. " I will be cheerful ; I will bo my own gay. happy pelf again." Peter became quite boisterous, and made one or two mild jokes that set Clara laughing.- In the midst of her laughter, however, she stopped, and they sat quite still, looking at each other open-mouthed. For they had I heard a bell ring in the house. " Who can that be at this time of nisht?" asked Peter, in a whisper. " And on Christmas Eve?" "It's very strange," answered Clara, in the same tone. "No chance wayfarer would come in at this hour." Peter got up and walked to the door of the room, opened it, and listened. Turning there, be whispered information to Mrs Bagshaw. " Jenluns is talking to somebody; I can hear a very gruff voice replying. She's holcliicc the door open " " Fow distinctly I can still hear that bell. They haven't caught their [ convict yet." murmured Clara, with a I shiver. " " Hadn't you hotter go and see what's the matter., dear?" While Peter bwitatfd, however, theone old woman whn acted as servant to j the small household came, to the door 1 of the room and stood there, blinking \ her eyes at them, and opening her mouth in an attempt to speak. Evidently she had been startled, and Peter did not mend matters by the manner in which, in his agitation, ho spoke to her. \ '■' Well. Jenkins, you look as if you'd seen a ghost. What's the matter with you?" Jenkins found voice, and whispered: "Please, sir, there's summink at the back door askiu' to set? you?" "But who is it, Jenkins?" broke in Clara. Jenkins shook her head, and at that moment, surprisingly enough, disap- ; pea red. Apparently she had been seized from behind and whisked out of the way by the large man who at that moment appeared in tho doorway of the room. So largo & man that he seemed literally to fill the doorway. Peter stared at him in amazemunt. Tho man smiled in n grim sort of fashion, and nodded his head slowly, ns though this wr,s tho maa ho expected to meet; rlion very slowly he removed from his hnad a soft felt hat he was wearing. I Peter folt something very cnld mnniiiL 1 ;

-L(uvti tho very 7n>nrrow of his; spine when he caw that the man's grey hailwas cropped as close as it possibly could be to the. skin of his head, and was about a sixteenth of an inch in length. His groat round face was clean-shaven. The man closed tho door and unfastened an overcoat h© wore, disclosing ,ao fact that ho was clad in a wellworn and rather shabby twoed suit that was ill-fitting at the best " What — what is your business, sir?" quavered Petei . " I've come to see you. my friend," said the man, in a voice that was like a miniature roll of thunder. '" Sit down ; there's .nothing to be scared about. If you don't mind, I'll hang my overcoat up in the hall, and then we can talk more comfortably." He opened tho door and walked leisurely out of the room. Instantly Glara was in Peter's arms, and was whispering to him excitedly : "Peter! do you know who- he is?" "Y-yes," quavered Peter. "It's the escaped convict! Keep calm; wo must humour him." Their trepidation was not lessened when tho man, coming back into the room without tho overcoat, was seen J to have in 0119 hand a large revolver. iiO stood for a moment toying with this, then smiled reassuringly. " Nothing to bo afraid of," he said. "1 always carry one; j'ou never know, what might happen. It was in ray overcoat pocket," he addeoT, in explanatioju, "and I thought I wouldn't leave it there, in case anyone got fooling with it and hurt themselves, it's a cold night," he went on. looking round as he dropped the revolver into his jacket pocket, " and I should be grateful for a drink. I've come a long way." " Clara, my love," stammered Peter, holding on to the sides of his chair, " would you mind going into the dining-room and getting something to drink for this gentleman?" The mysterious stranger politely held open the door for Clara to go out. She edged past him nervously, watching him out of tho corner of one eye. As he closed the door and came back to his chair, he jerked his head in the direction in which she had gone, and remarked to Peter : "Nice little thing — but seems a bit shy like. Your wife?" " Yes. sir, that is lny wife," replied Peter. " Then you're a lucky fellow." said the man. " Though what she saw in yon," he added, reflectively. " beats me. You're not much of a figure of a man." Peter was just making up his mind to rebort wheji Clara returned with a tray* on which were a decanter and glasses. The big man helped himself liberally, grunted at Peter's refusal, and held his glass aloft. " I'll give you a toast," he said. " Here's a jelly Christmas to you !" He tilted the glass, and threw back his head, and held out the glass empty. " I'll take another, my dear," he said to Clara, "about the same strength. Don't be lieht-handed." " He'll drink himself into a fury and murder the pair of us, and finish up with Jenkias," thought Peter, clinging to his cliniT. Midway through his second glass the 1-ig man beamed upon tho pair of them and asked a question. " Now, I suppose you don't know who I am, do you ?" " No," exclaimed Peter, hurriedly, "we don't know in tho least. But — does it matter?*' Tho big man almost dropped his glass. "Matter?" he exclaimed, starins; from one to the other. "Do you moan to say you don't want to know anything about ir.e — who I am, or what my past has been, or where I've lived?" '" We would rather know nothing whatever about you," said Peter, firmly. " Whatever we may guess is best left unsaid. Thoughts might arise in us regarding tho length of your hair—" The big man smiled, and passed Ins hand over his stubblo. " I've lived in hot climates, and 1 keep it like that for my health/ he observed, with a grin. " We observe also that you have a keen, sense of humour." said Peter. " Now I would suggest that you^shouid finish your refreshment — and go." The man grinned again and shook his head filily- "That's where you're wrong," "he said. "I'm not going. You've got to put me up for a few days, and keep me nice and quiet. You needn't talk about me to the neighbours if you've got any. I'm a baehiul sort of nian. and I don't want to meet anybody but just you two. And I'll ten you something else." he added confidentially, leaning forward and nodding from one to the other. il I'll tell vou'this. I've taken a great fancy to both of you., and you shan't suffer by it. To-morrow's Christmas Day, and we'll all be merry together." He drank several more glasses during tho course of the evening, and coinplained somewhat bitterly concerning th« strength (or. tho want of it) in Peter's cigars. "It doesn't matter; there's plenty more coming up with :ny lv""' n o:e in the morning," He remarked. " ii.ere's a lot of things about my luggage that'll interest you a great deal," he added, nodding at them darkly. Then, seeing that they did not respond, but merely glanced furtively at each other, he knitted his brows and said, in a half-per-plexed, half-angry fashion: "Blest if j ca a make you two out. You seem half- j frightened of me. If I thought you were frightened I'd '*' It might have been fancy, but Peter did havo a thought for a moment that or.o large hand dropped towards the pocket in which rested liis revolver. In his anxiety Pet or broke in. almost with a sliriek. No — no, nothing of the kind," he stammered. " We're frightfully pleased to see yon ; wo would n t havo missed your visit for the world. You're perfectly sa-fo with us. We- know your secret, and we shall respect it." "Why — how did you guess?" asked the big man, in some amazement. ■'"' How did you know I'd come all this bmv to see you, Pet erf" "You know xn.y name?" stammered Peter Bagshaw. \.,e man nodded darkly. "Yes. 1 know your names" ho replied. " I've had my eye on you, Peter Bagshaw, for some time past. I've been making up

my mind to pay you a visit. I've said, to myself: That's a man struggling against a hard world ; that's a man that wants lifting up.' I've been a bit sorry .for your wife, too,'"' he added, nodding at Clara. " She ought to have smarter clothes and a bit of jewellery." " I must ask you not to interfere in any way in my domestic arrangements," said Peter a little hotly. "We're perfectly willing to take you on trust, as it were, and to ask no questions ; we do not expect criticism from one in your position." " Hoity-toity I" exclaimed the big man, making a ridiculous feint of heing desperately afraid. " Hark at little Cock Robin I I like your spirit, Peter. 1 don't think a bit the worse of you for it." "I certainly think, sir/ broke in Clara, hotly.. " that as we are giving you shelter you might behave better. There is such a thing as ordinary common gratitude, and I am surprised to observe that you don't seem to know what it means." "She's got a spirit, too," said the big man to himself, " and I like a spirit when I meet it." Ho added, aloud, " Now, my dears (for of course 1 reckon you my dears under all the special circumstances), wo won't have any more beating about the bush, ill come straight to business. Do you or do you not recognise me?' "We do recognise you. sir — with sorrow." said Clara, bravely. " With sorrow ?" echoed the man, in amazement, as he sprang to his foet. " Of course, if I'm not welcome " He looked so threatening that Peter hastened to interpose. " You made a slip, my love," he stammered, turning to Clara; "you meant joy. The words have a similar sound if they're spoken hurriedly. My dear wife meant joy. We're glad to welcome you." ••' I understand how the mistake arises," said the giant. "Of course, sho wouldn't know that you had an uncle coining from Australia, would she?"' Peter grinned affably. "Of course, if you like to call yourself an uncle from Australia we have no objection," he said. " I am perfectly willing to call you an uncle from Australia if you'll create no disturbance. And now, uncle from Australia — do you mind going to bed?" It took quite a long time to get him upstairs. He stopped every now and tneii co explain a little lazily who he was, and also that he intended in the morning — Christmas morning — to make both their fortunes. But at last he consented to go into the little spare room, where ho loomed dangerously with a lighted candle, and appeared out of all proportion to the furniture as he wished them many times " Good night." " T'll try and sleep in it." he remarked, pathetically, gazing at the diminutive bed, " but I shall slop over the edges." Peter furtively turned the key upon him .and crept downstairs with Clara. There he sank into a chair and buried his face in his hands. "My darling Peter, don't give way!" exclaimed Clara. "My love — it would make anyone give way,' he cried wildly. "Think of that man— that monster — armed to tho teeth — half-drunk — and a desperate character. .He may decide at any moment to break out o? tho spare room, and, in a lit of frenzy, to murder us. What is to be done?" "I havo done all that is necessary," replied Clara, calmly. " I have sent Jenkins down into the town to inform the police. They may be here at any moment." " And then there'll bo a battle-royal in the snare room, with that precious convict selling his life dearly while he's got a cartridge loft !" exclaimed Peter Bagshaw. " There's someone ringing at the door now/ he added. "Oh, why did I ever bring you to this place?" After some hesitation Pctr.r Bagshaw j went out and admitted these new visitors. It was perhaps a little incongruous that, rho head constable of Ridge Green., who know him by sight, i should wish him a "Merry Christ- j mas.'" Peter only noticed that three ; other constables camo in., accompanied j by a couple- of warders, who were i armed. " I have locked him in the spare room," said Pr.ter, valiantly. "I was determined that ho should not rscape. If you will go up you will find him thero, but T must warn you that he has a six-chambered revolver, fully j loaded, in hi.* possession, and that be j is a most desperate character." i ''There wasn't anything very desperate about s im bi'foro V escaped," said I one of the warders. " Mildest man 1 j ever came across; f believe 'c on'y got away for a lark. 'Owever, wr may catch 'im asleep; if : o, shows any resistance 'ell find we're armed, too." "With the v."fl-rrlcM\s in front, ;; litvlo procisssiiin wa< formed up tho .«t«ir. J : Peter and Clara tremblingly followed in i the rjKir. The key was turned and tho ■ door was softly opened ; the warders I

stood ready to cover their man. Then one of them stepped forward with a lighted candle and bent ovor the stranger, who Jay flat on his back, fast asleep and snoring loudly. • "'Ere, we're in the wrong room," he said, turning about. " This ain't our man." Tho big man woke at that moment, and sat up and stared ab the crowd m his bedroom; n>w -sly he did not know what to make of it. Peter pressed forward, and etared afc the warder who had spoken. " Not the escaped convict f" he exclaimed. " Are you quite sure?" "I told you," said the big man in the bed. patiently, "that I did not want to see the neighbours, or to have visits from 'em. It's scarcely delicate, Peter, to bring all this crowd into your poor uncle's bedroom at this hour of the night. Toll 'om to call to-mor-row." "But who are youP" demanded Peter, .literally shaking him. " I've been trying to tell you all the evening — onJy you would interrupt me, and make remarks about my hair, and my past, and one thing and another. I've been trying to tell you that I'm your uncle from Australia — Daniel Grceve by name— your late mothors brother." Thus the big man, in an annoyed tone. " I'll explain it all in the morning. For goodness' sake, send all these pcoplo away, and lot me get to sleep. Most extraordinary household I've over been in 1" When the warders and others had been dismissed, Daniel Gz*eeve insisted on coming downstairs again, with so much of his huge person as could be covered by it wrapped in a dressinggown of Peter's, and listening to tho story of that lost convict. The more he listened the more he laughed, until . at last the tears were fairly streaming down his face. " It's all right, my dears," he said at last ; " I'll forgive you. Sorry to have given you such a shook; but I'll make up for that to-morrow. There's nobody else in the world belonging to me but Peter and Peter's wife, and I've brought a fortune home from Australia for you. Now let me get to bed, or I shall have no appetite- for my Christmas dinner."

LIU Ml IHI I 11 11 il Hlf fi liHMbi i-£ ■» *w: