MATCHMAKERS LIMITED.
(By JOSEPHINE BULLEN.) Author of " Margaret in the " Meadow," Etc.
[All Rights Reserved.] CHAPTER I. "Where's Betty, Nannie?" asked Sylvia Maunsell, dropping into a_ bit; chair. It was a hot July day, and the coolness of her friends' dainty sittingroom was delightful after the hot dusty streets. " Betty is frightfully busy," answered Nannie with a laugh. "Another big cchemo on foot, I suppose?" Sylvia smiled at the recollection of Betty's last " get~ric!)-quick'' idea, which had had to do with horse-dealing. "I think so; she nas been so frightfully important for the last few days. Here she comes. I did shout to her that you were here."
Quick steps hurried along the passage, the door opened impetuously, and Betty", her hands full of papers, entered with a rush. Apparently tho heat took little effect on her. " I say, girls. I've struck oil this time!" she exclaimed, waving a couple of letters.
A burst of laughter greeted her announcement.
"What is it now, you madcap? A scheme for setting fire to the. Thames? Or are you going to form a limited liability company for tho giving of dinner parties, with no trouble to tho hostess, or " "That's not a bad idea, Sylvia." Betty paused, ruminant, in the act of opening a newspaper. "I'll think that out later. But now listen, both' of you!" Turning to the advertisement columns of her newspaper, she read with emphasis:—
TO THE LONTCLY.-A lady of tact and experience undertakes to find suitnble life-companions for the unmated of both sexes. Each ease will receive her earnest attention, and her first aim will be to promote the true happiness of her clients. Terms moderate. References exchanged, etc., etc.— Apply Matchmakers, Ltd., 6, Desborcueh Mansions, S.W.
"Betty!" burst from two pairs of lips after a silence of utter amazement.
"Thought I'd surprise you," Betty remarked cheerfully. "That appeared yesterday, and to-day——" she waved three letters.
" Not—not—applications?" gasped Nannie, her eyes wide. Betty nodded briskly. " Of course, I knew they'd catch on. Don't you see, you littlo goose, that I am supplying the shrieking want of the ago." Nannie's soft girlish face took on an expression of disgust. "Matchmaking, Betty I I really did not think you would stcop to that!" "Stoop! My dear prim early Victorian, it's quite the other way. ' lam soaring to it, rising above the idiotic prejudices that ruin the lives of hundreds of women. lam going to be a public benefactor, Nannie. Dozens—hundreds, if I get on well—of grateful couples will rise up and call me blessed, and I shall go down to an admiring posterity as the pioneer of a new career for women, as the first who turned matchmaking into a science, and made a noble profession of it."
Sylvia's peals of laughter interrupted Betty's eloquence. She had a sense of humour, and Nannie's outraged face appealed to it as much as did Betty's heroics.
"The Old and the New Woman," she laughed. "How did you two ever come to share a flat?"
Nannie's face changed suddenly. "It was because Betty'is the soul of kindness, and wanted to- save a poor feckless little typewriter from tbo wolves of the, work-world," she said lovingly. "And I believe that is really why she thought of this absurd scheme."
"It's not. absurd at all, but T am glad you give me credit for good motives. Of course, Ido want to help the poor lonely unhappy people one sees all round one. Just think of the nice women who would make ideal wives, and yet never get the chance pf meeting- a man ! And the men who get into dull bachelor ways or worse, because they have no opportunity of choosing the wives they are really longing for 1 Sylvia, do stop laughing; I am really in earnest." " Well, ' Betty, I think you might have remembered that charity begins at home."
Sylvia wiped tears of merriment from her eyes. "You're too hard to please; it is no use trying to do anything for you. But look at these letters, don't they prove the truth of my theory?''' Sylvia and Nannie read the letters together. Ono was from a woman, " Amy Egerton," and its timid, wistful wording had a pathos in it that robbed Sylvia of all desire for laughter. The writer told her story simply. Well-born, but poor, she had spent her life in deadly greynefis as an only child of parents too proud to make the friends available. On their death she found herself alone and friendless. An unexpected legacy brought her enough to live upon, but she was terribly lonely. With all her crushed soul she longed for love and companionship, and Botty's advertisement came like a ray of light into her gloom. Would she —did she think she could—find another lonely person. The half-ashamed sentences were infinitely touching. "Betty," Sylvia said gravely, "we must help her."
The next was a flippant and vulgar epistle, written apparentlv half as a joke, from a city clerk, who complained that he bad long sought in vain for an heiress, and hoped the advertisement would find one for him.
"Cad!" uttered Sylvia, disgustedly, towing it aside. " See what you have laid yourself open to, Betty!"
" Oh, I'll survive it, and there's this to counteract it." Betty held out a she*;!, of thick notepaper covered with firm black handwriting. " Rend that, and tell me whether I'm going to be a benefactor or not. Why, he's just tho heaven-sent mate my lady client sighs fcr. poor thing." "What a characteristic letter." Sylvia looked up from it smilingly. "I ean picture him, can't you, Betty, this 'H. C. Russell,' a big, broad-shoulder-ed, brown-faced fellow, who can do what he like.? with rough working-men, but >. dumb and helpless in an English dre.wing-room. Just come back from Australia—went out as a boy of seventeen, and roughed it for years—made a decent pile—no relatives left—very lonely, and wants to make a home for himself and some lonely woman." "Poor chap! ho seems shrewd enough, at any rate, not to want to fall into tho hands of match-making mammas. Vou must point out to your lady client, Betty, that lie wishes to be loved for himself alone, not for his ' pile.' One can read that between the lines."
" One can see, too, that he is very modest, about himself,'' Betty bad taker; the tetter, and was studying' it thoughtfully. ''He deserves a really good wife. Vm sure, and who could bo more suitable, than this gentle, refined creature, who will soften down his roughness and lavish on him the love she has been hoarding up all her starved life? Who would want to write romance, when such an opportunity as this comes of making it?" One of Betty's numberless bursts of energy had been in the direction of writing fiction, and Sylvia maintained that it had permanently influenced her style of speech. " Now to business. I'm going to interview these dear people separately, first, at an hour when you two are. not here, and get them both to confide fully in me. _ I can always get people to do that."
Sylvia, looked at the slight figure perched on the table, adjusting a pince-nez with a slender hand* «g«P-.y
lino of the slim body and delicately tinted face instinct with vitality and feeling, and, an indefinable fascination.
" Yes, you can do what you like with people, Betty," sho laughed. "Hero are we, encouraging you in this scheme instead of pointing out tho awful responsibilities of it. Have you no chilling fears of unhappy unions and—perhaps—the Divorce Court?" " No, for 1 shall study my clients thoroughly. They will have to tell mo all about'their "position, their education, connections, and so on, for I am going to do the thing on a commonsense-' basis. But these two have done so already yon see, and after I've seen them. I'll ask them both to conio here to tea, and we must all set them at their ease, and not lot them realise that they have come to meet each other with intentions. You'll both be here, of course ' "Bather! 1 wouldn't miss it for worlds!"
" And," resumed Betty, flinging a cushion at Sylvia, "I'll ask my cousin Joe to come too, and you must bring Arnold Bassett, that nice Iwy from Guy's, Sylvia, and—tlu.t will be enough, I think, to make things go properly." "You're the most delightful lunatic T know, Betty." laughed Sylvia, kissing her affectionately as she rose to go. "We wouldn't for anything have you sane, would we. Nannie? And your mad tea part-,- will be the freakiest thing out of America. I'm palpitating for it already!'' etaoin shrdlu cmfwypvbgkqjjrmnffffioa "ft will make two people •very happy," Betty answered confidently. "I'll see to that!" CHAPTER. IT. Tho windows of Betty's little draw-ing-room were wide open, their sunblinds drawn down, and in spite of the half-dozen people crowding it, the pretty interior was as cool a place as could be found in London on that August day. Betty's guests, too, seemed to be enjoying each other's society. There were no ominous breaks in. the chatter and laughter, everything was apparently running with the smoothness that ■brings joy to the heart of the hostess. Y~et Betty's brow was furrowed with an anxious little wrinkle. This w»s one of the gatherings she had arranged to bring her clients together, and as she saw how close Cousin Joe's chair was to Miss Egcrton's, and noted that Mr Russell was apparently absorbed in Sylvia's bright chatter,'she feared that things were not going exactly as she had intended. "It's too bad of Joe," she reflected. " Sylvia is just the one to brighten him up, and I'm sure he is the steady sort of person sho wants to keep her from flirting too much. Yet there they are, taking no notico of each other, and spoiling my business plans into the bargain!"
She watched Russell for a moment or two. Sylvia's imaginary portrait of him had not been very near tho mark. He was tall and brown, certainly, but his quiet manner did not seem to be the outcome of shyness, neither was there about him the roughness she bad conjectured. His face, rather stern in repose, held more than a hint of kindness, and the humour lurking in his eyes made them oddly attractive. Betty wondered again, as she watched him, why he always reminded her of tho common above her old home where the air blew fresh and strong; the common she had rambled over, with companions long lost sight of
"Mr Russol!." she said, suddenly rousing licrself to a sense of her business responsibilities and approaching the delinquents with her sweetest air, ■"I want you to tell me more about Australian homo life. I still writ© articles occasionally, you know, and srou5 r ou did promise me information on the subject. Sylvia," with a meaning look, 'I do you mind singing something for us? We are having rather a stodgy afternoon, and it would be awfully good of you, dear.'' Sylvia laughed, but she rose and went to the piano, while Betty proceeded to more her pieces, sending •Cousin Joe to turn over for hor there, and including Miss Egerton in the conversation on Australian home life. Her intention of slipping away once her clients were fairly started in mutual conversation on Australian lifo was, however, frustrated by Mr Russell, but Betty had the satisfaction of seeing that he was trying to interest Miss Egerton in the subject. To succeed in any task she undertook was a passion with her. and she felt that unless sho could, make a happy " match " between the two people for whom she had promised to play Fate, she would have to write the hated word " Failure " upon her now career. And that Betty was determined not to do. So sho artfully drew out timid Miss Egerton, knownip; through her raro gift of sympathetic insight, just how to help her to make the best of herself. "Don't you find life over here duller than it is m Australia, Mr Russell? I mean it seems so breezy and unconventional there, and hero one is bound down by one's circumstances." Miss Kzerton sighed as she spoke. ''l don't find it at all dull here," Russell answered, looking at her curiously. "To my mind, colonial life lacks the homeliness one finds in England. 1 know that when I think of homo, my thoughts go back to an old gabled English country house, and a little village clustering round a squaretowered church. Nothing I havo known in Australia has dimmed that picture for me."
"Why, that's just my idea of home!" Betty broko in eagerly. "In fact, that was my home, Mr Russell. How odd that yours should be tho samel"
He smiled at her in tho enigmatic way that had once or twice puzzled her, but turned to Miss Egerton, beginning to talk to her of his colonial lifa. in a way that raised Betty's hopes considerably, although the lady's somewhat shocked reception of his rougher experiences caused her fresh anxisty. "I do wish she wasn't quite so elegant," Betty thought. "I'm afraid she'll think hi in n heartless brute and a rough backwoodsman as well, if he tilts her so much about breaking in his own horses and building his own cabin, lie's put his chair on lit dress too; she'll say bo's clumsy next; and that wretched" Joe has a charming way of paying meaningless little attentions! I wonder if I can manage to give Mr Russell a hint. Ido hope sha isn't too stupid to son what a splendid fellow In is, at any rate."
Betty was beginning to feci unreasonnbly annoyca with her lady client. A glance round the room, however, showed, her Sylvia still monopolising Joe, (Nannie, quietly out tea, with the nice boy from Guy's as assistant, gave no trouble), and she act herself with redoubled eare to oil the wheels upon which her scheme was running. Betty had plenty of tact, and before her guests took their leave had the pleasure of seeing Miss Egerton grow less prim in response to her cavalier's breezy talk on the safer subjects into which Betty had skilfully guided him. »
CHAPTER II f. On an afternoon towards the end of tho summer Sylvia and Nannie were lounging in Betty's sitting-room. Both had books, which apparently interested them little, for Nannie was gazing dreamily out of the window, and hcr compauion had scarcely turned a leui of the volume in her lap. " How do you think Betty's scheme is progressing?" Sylvia asked suddenly ■ T Nannie roused herself with a start and a blush that brought a knowing twinkle to Sylvia's eye. "Oh, i don't know; Mr Russell doesn't sue 111 very keen on it, does he?"_sho said, rather vaguely. "Keen?" Sylvia laughed. "1 should think not! His efforts to do the pretty to poor Miss Egerton arc pathetic to behold. And 1 hope that m his heart he is just as much afraid of her as she is of him. Her prim, elegant little way* mako him feel all angles and thumbs, I'm sure, and she scorns to shrink like a sensitive plant at th© sight of him." Naomi*. V*>kod. intently at lies frier-d.
"He gets o;i all right with you, Syl," sho said pointedly. " Ah, you've eyes in your head, infant!" Sylvia laughed, and stretched her long arms. " And you've been taking lessons yourself lately, so you know, don't von ?"
"Sylvia!" "Nannie blushed furiously, and Sylvia sat up with a wicked light of mischief on her faec. But Betty's key in the door, and her steps along the hall, saved Nannie from the teasing Betty entered in a manner so subdued that her «two friends exclaimed simultaneously. "I'll tell you what's the matter," she said sadly, sinking into a chair. " I have been to see my cousins at Highgate Joe's people—and I'vehoard son ething that simply left me limp. Jce is engaged to Miss Egerton!" • "Bravo. Joe!" exclaimed Sylvia. " I am glad he's walced up at last. I've been wondering how long he would be over it." '
"But you don't realise my position. I undertook to find a suitable wife for a man, and now my own cousin has stolen her from him!"
Nannie joined in Sylvia's he-artless laugh at this, much to Betty's disgust. "I do think you might help mo out, you two," she said in a hurt voice. '' At least," with sudden eagerness, "one of you might. Sylvia, you always gf:t on so well with him, dear, and he's such a nice man, and so eligible iii every way. Why," warming to her subject, " you are really far better suited for him than Miss Egerton. You love out-door life and riding and things, just as ho does, and
"Betty, you shameless bargainer! Are a maiden's feelings nothing ? T do a good deal lor you, dear loyal imbecile, hut I draw the line at being flung at a man's head. I'm no go, dear. Trv Nannie."
"Betty, I'm sure you won't. He'd I never care for me, and I should bo i just as frightened of him as Miss E<rcrton is. We're not one bit suited. Please don't, even as a joke!" Nannie's agitation and crimson face brought Betty's prince-nez in bewildered focus upon her, whilst Sylvia laughed teasingly. " Nannie has her own reason for declining the honour. If it were Arnold Bassett now, Betty," she remarked. "Dear me! I-didn't know till now that T was a. mou.se." sighed Betty. " But T did lay my plans well, and I'm not a man, so " ■• " Well, here comes a man who has to do W'th your plans .dear." Nannie rose from her seat by the window. It's Mr Russell, and I daresay he wants a serious talk with you, so I'm coiner." Sylvia followed her out of the door, hnedlfss of Betty's entreaties for help and defence, and the next moment Russell entered. Betty felt suddenly very <mia!l and weak as she looked at his biff broadshouldered form. She had never been afraid of anyone or anythincr, but she realised then that she would not like this man to be angry with her. And he looked very stern "Oil, Mr RuMfcll!" she exclaimed, plunging into things with her usual impetuosity. "I'm afraid you think I have treated you badly. But really it wasn't my fault. _ T did nn r best to make things go rieht, but I suppose I shonMn't have asked Cousin Joe here at all, only how was T to that she would be such a duffer as to prefer him?" She looked up at him imploringly, and met a g*se of utter bewilderment.
"I am afraid I don't understand," he said perplexedly. "Why should I have a grievance against you. Miss Wakefield?"
"Oh, dear! then you don't know?" Betty's dismay was alarming. " But I must tell you, of course. I heard just now that—that Miss Egerton and my cousin Joe aro engaged. Oh, I do hope you don't.mind dreadfully." "I'm afraid I don't mind at all," ho said genially. "In fact, it's a load off my mind, Miss "Wakefield, and they shall have a ripping wedding present from mo in token of gratitude." •■• Betty adjusted her pince-nez agitatedly. " But what' are, you going to do now? You see I've failed desperately in'what-1 undertook for you. You must think me dreadfully unbusinesslike. Will you let me try again? Ido want to make you happy, Mr Russell." "Do you?" Russell asked slowly, flushing oddly under his tan. " Well, Miss Wakefield, you can do that, I know. And you haven't failed at all. You have taught me_ something that—that it's worth anything to know. I—l didn't you see—it was never Miss Egerton ; there was—someone else."
" Oh !" exclaimed Betty, as the mean, ing of the halting words flashed on her. She remembered how well Sylvia and lie had always got on, and her mercurial spirits bounded upwards. ■ " I'm so glad, and I really think it will be right this time," she 'said eagerly. "You and 'some on© else' have so much in common. But you mustn't be bashful with her, Mr Russell. Be. masterful; just tell her that you want her, and are going to have her, and she will give in meekly, I'm sure." "Will she?!' Russell's voice had a queer ring in it. He came a step towards her. "Then all is not lost yet, is it?
' All is not lost. Tho unconquerable will ' Do you remember how we learned that together, Botty, in the dear old schoolroom at Moorside Rectory, when I was your father's pupil?" Betty gasped.' She stared at him with eyes in which memory struggled with bewilderment.
"Hugh!" she said at last. " Hugh Calvert! but how —no —it can't be!' '• No wonder you don't recognise the sickly white-faced lad you knew long ago, Betty," he said smilingly. "Do you remember how yon used to give up your longs walks with the others on the common, to stay and cheer me up when I had those wretched attacks of bronchitis? \ T ou dear, kind,- quaint little Betty 1 How I have thought of you, out there in wild rough places; of you and of the rector and all the happy life we had."
Betty's Tips were quivering, her-eyes m'istT, but she laughed a little. "Yes, you are Hugh Calvert; I sew his eyes and'hear hi« voice, now. I wonder T never guessed, for you know, it sometimes struck me that you were like some one I used to know. But vhy ' Russe'*' and why did we lose sight of vou nil at ones?" "I tvjis packed off almost suddenly to the uncle in Australia about whom wo used to joke. Don't you remember? We said" he'd arrive at the Rectory some fine day laden with gold nuggets,and planned what we should do with tho wealth. My father lost his money, you see; and he didn't quite; know what to do with mo, except hand me over to Uncle Tom. And a good thing he did! The air and the outdoor life made a man of me physically, and Uncle Tom made a partner of inc. That's why I took his name. Ho died last year, and 'left mo free to come back and—and look for the old life, Betty."
"But—didn't you write, Hugh?" " T did, but I never heard from you, and then came the news that the rector was dead, and I lost sight of you -" "How odd that you should hn.ve found me in this way, though." Betty looked at him with frank amazement. "Well, I'm afraid there's not much coincidence in it after all," he said with a laugh. "When I got over hero I sot to work to trace you, and T got your address the morning on which your very unusual advertisement caught my eye—so I thought it would be a joke you would appreciate, Betty, to renew my acquaintance with you, in the character of a client " "It was too bad of you! But " Betty's face grew grave. "That reminds me that 1 have not yet fulfilled mv agreement with you. I do hate to fail!" with n little impulsive estnrc he knew well. " I know you do, and therefore T suggest that since th<) first match made l>y your firm was brought about mainly through my agency (though you ma,y not havo noticed it, I gave Ciusin Joe many opportunities of cutting mo out with Mas EgertoaH J, AUhik for your^
future success, you ought to take me into partnership." Betty looked at him doubtfully. "You see, there's another match I have to suggest—one in which the probable parties are unusually well suited to each other. ' Not like in like, but like in difference,' ypu know. Another of our favourite quotations, isn't it, Betty? The two people I am thinking of, have mucl:, very much in common—they, have the love of books and pictures and Nature, nnd nnimals; more than that, they have memories." He took her hand in his. She looked at him, her eyes bright, and her colour changing rabidly. " Memories of a happy youth together, and a dear old place that was home to him, almost as much as to her." A sob broke from her. "It's gone, Hugh, long ago!" " But we can replace it, Betty. We can make a new homo that shall be an echo of the old one. Oh, Betty, my brave, kind, .incomparable little Betty, / love you with all my heart. Can't you love me, dear?" His arms closed round her, and Betty nestled into them with a sigh of happiness.
" Hugh," she murmured presently, "I think this match will be tho most successful w© can ever hope to make, so, we'll give" up the business now, shall we, partner?" She hid her face .on his shoulder, with a little sobbing laugh. "My Betty! mine!" he said, softly. '
THE LADY DETECTIVE (By L. T. MEADE.) Author of "Love's Cross-Roads," "The Medicine Lady," etc. [All Rights Reserved.] "One of my strangest cases!" said Margaret Nnttall. " I will tell it to you for what it is worth." I placed myself in an easy-chair and looked into "tho strong iace of my friend, prepared to listen. I w;as talking to the greatest lady detective in London. "It has only just happened," she continued. " I was sent for to go to Grey Ladies on Friday last. 1 was to attend on the Princess Nitta, a young Japanese lady of the highest rank. She .was engaged to marry an English officer, a Captain Maddison, who was also staying nt Grey Ladies. It was by his instigation I went to the house. He put me j'ery briefly into possession of the rough facts of the case. First, her family opposed her marriage; second, she had in lier possession the Noy-i-Rin-—an uncut diamond said to be one, of the largest in the world. The diamond had a curioua history; she was taking it back to Japan to put it into the hands of the Emperor. On receiving it, he promised to settle a large sum of money on her, and also to attend her marriage. If she failed, or lost the gem, she was to commit suicide. ' Now tho Princess's chance of safety,' continued Captain Maddison, 'lies in the fact that, as far as we can tell, no one knows that she possesses the jewel; you are to go to Grey Ledfes as Tier friend. Your duty will be to protect the jewel, and to guard the Princess. This is Friday morning; I shall meet you at Grey Ladies at dinner to-night. We leave on Tuesday, when your dutieß are at an end.' " This was what Captain Maddison said to me," continued Margaret; and I made hasty preparations for my visit. Tho Duchess received me most kindly. " '1 am glad to see any friend of my dear little Princess. Miss Nuttall,' she said. 'By her desire, I have put your bedroom next to hers; wo dine at half-past eight, so you will have plenty of time to have a chat with your" friend before dinner. Now, doubtless you would like to see her.' "I said 'Yea.' Tho Duchess pressed a bell, a servant appeared, and I was taken at once to Princess Nitt&'s suite of rooms. I shall never forget her charming appearance. Sho was standing up \vitlt an eager expression on her race. Never before had I seen quite so beautiful a girl. In the drew of her country, with a large chrysanthemum f.'«te'nod into her black hair, it was impossible to imagine anyone more lovely. She came up to me with both bands outstretched.
'•' ' Victor said you would come,' she remarked. ' : lam happy. You will understand that I need a friend.'
" 'I shall he too happy to he that friend. Princess/ I answered. " She pointed me to a chair, and, seating herself, eased at me. Suddenly she crossed the large sittingroom, and, opening the door of her bedroom, called in her silvery treble: " ' Omar, come at once.'
" Immediately a magnificent bloodhound rushed into the room, saw me, stopped, showed his teeth, and growled. , " ' Ah, but this will not do, Omar,' eaid the girl, 'you and Miss Nuttall must each love the other. Miss Nuttall, eire me your hand.' "She laid her tiny hand on the great dog's head. I felt him trembling from head to foot. " ' My friend, Omar,' said the girl, in her musical voice, 'you must be good to this lady, who is my friend. Take your hand away, Miss Nuttall, and kneel down by Omar. • See what wSH happen.'
" I did so. There was a moment's hesitation, two eyes were fixed on my face, then their expression changed, the hound laid his head on mv shoulder.
" ' Ah,' said Nitta, ' is not that good, is not that wonderful ? This makes me truly happy. Omar lias taken you into his heart, and he could with one spring kill you. Ah. now I think I shall succeed: you, Victor, the hound and I will be a match for them.' "'For whom?' I asked.
" ' Thoso whom I fear,' she said. ' Do T not know that i am surrounded by onomies? They want the' gem, and with it my life, but I will have the courage of my brave countrymen. Now, make a hasty toilet, Miss Nuttall, and come downstairs with me.' " I did so. When we entered the drawing-room, Captain Maddieon came up and spoke in a semi-whisper. ■' ' Miss Nuttall, dinner will not be announced for a few minutes, for several guests have yet to arrive, and 1 want to talk to you.' " H(< led me to the further end of tho groat hall. We was a tall man, strong and muscular.
" 'You have already won the heart of Princess Nitta,' lie said.
"'Who could wonder?' was my answer.
" ' And the dog is also your friend,' ho continued. ' Now T did not tell you this morning what 1 must say now. Th« Princess is in extreme danger.' "'Hoy; soP' I answered. " Ho was silent for a moment; then lie said: ''Do you sec the staircase? S'here, loaning against the balustrade, is a very tall and missive woman. She is talking to a little man who has doubtless Japanese blood in his veins. He is beyond doubt a spy, and the lady—the lady is well known to the police. She has been twice married, and both her husbands have died under suspicious circumstances, still nothing can be proved against her.' "'But why should the. Duke have such a wretch in his house?' I asked.
" 'lf you spoke to her for five minutes you would not ask that question,' replied the Captain. ' Sho can wind almost any man round her little finger: she had a. good try once for me, but failed. Of one thing I am positive, rliq has not invited herself to this house for nothing. T am convinced she knows something about the gem, and that neither the Princess nor I is safe whilo she is m the house.'
" I thought for a minute, then I said: 'The night is the time of danger.' Ho nodded. ' I will make you a promise,' I said. 'Wo have four nignts to spend at Grey Ladies; during those nights I shall not sleep—not for a moment. You can help me to got some rest in tho daytime by taking the
Princess off my hands. Is it a bargain P' "' It is, and I thank you most heartily.'
" A moment Inter T found myself with other guests entering the great dining-room,, and once or twice during the meal I, encountered: the great black eyes of Lady Damaris Carson, the lady about whom Captain Maddison had been talking. Ihose eyes were fixed on my face, nnd they bore me no goodwill. Soon after eleven o'clock Princess Nitta and I retired to rest. She did not say anything about the gem, she was evidently very tired and sleepy. I asked, her if she would not mind my locking the door of the anteroom which led into our little suite. She started, and turned white, then said: ' Oh, yes, certainly.' 'I left her to go to.my own room, where I sat up trying to amuse myself with a novel.
"The next day nothing particular happened : but by the evening the Princess and I were such friends that ehe asked me to follow her into her bedroom.
"'May I ask you a question?' she said. ' Are you provided, with firearms?'
" ' I have a small revolver,' I said, colouring. "'Good!' was her answer. 'Now, look!'
" I observed on a table close to the bed a revolver of Japanese construction ; there was also a Japanese sword, which was unsheathed. She fingered the revolver and sword with nervous fingers. "'Ah! Miss Nuttall.' she .said, 'I don't want to die. lam "so very happy. I love him so dearly. When I can give up the Nov-i-Rin to the Emperor, then I shall he safe. I found it through an accident in London, and since then I have been jpursued; I have not been safe anywhere. Lady Damaris Carson is my she is so clever she can foil anyone. Ah! Miss Nuttall, if I fail —I fail. Am I not the daughter of one who belongs to the Sublime Order of the Chrysanthemum. Such a girl must, meet her fate worthily. May I show it to you. Miss Nuttall?' " Before I could speak she pulled ■ from her pocket a small silken bag. Opening it, she put what looked like a piece of quartz, about the size of a duck's egg, into mv hand. " ' This,' she said. ' is pure diamond. If it were, cut its value would be a million pounds; but it is sacred—it will never be cut. Do you see this tail of plaited hair attached to tho bag? I sleep with this woyjid round my wrist at night. Omar sleeps outside my door. Now that you are here also to watch I must be safe. Good-night.' "After that Sunday and Monday passed without anything special occurring ; but on Tuesday evening Captain Maddison asked me to go with him into the library. The moment we'entered he shut and locked the door.'
" ' Miss Nuttall,' he 6aid, ' it is too horrible.' His brave lips, quivered. "What do you mean?' I asked. ''' Onlv that my worst suspicions are confirmed. I was out in the grounds to-day when I heard voices. I hid behind a baech tree and listened. Lady Damaris was talking to a stranger. I heard .jer say, "I can manage the man and the woman, hut the dog is the difficulty." Then the man said. " This on bread will do the job for you." She answered, "The beast would not touch anything I offered him." Tho man laughed, and said, "Think of a woman lilfe you being defeated by a doc." Then'the same voice continued, "You have the little bottle, a, drop or two introduced into any food or drink will settle them—they won't bo able to keep awake: the other will do for the*dog; and you hjwe the knife. The knife will prevent a post-mortem, and we can tako our time to disinter the brute after he is safely buried." She laughed, and then moved in the direction away from the house.' " ' Now, Miss Nuttall,' continued Captain Maddison, ' what do you think of this?'
"'That we are in the gravest danger,' was my answer. ' The dog must be watched day and night,. and' your Princess must not be left alone for a moment.'
"'What do you propose to doP' asked the captain. , "First and foremost,' I said, 'I will npt breathe a word of this to the Princess.' "'Good!' , " Then I continued: 'As I have not slept for three nights, I will certainly stay awake for four; nothing can happen, if I remain awake.'
"I-did my best to cheer him, but in reality I felt nervous and more depressed than I dared,to own. " That evening in our rooms the little Princess said to me: ' Such a strange thing has happened, Miss Nuttall! You know how I have always hated Lady Damans Carson; she talked to mo for a long time after dinner to-night, and I really believe I've wronged the poor lady—she was eo nice and friendly. She. knows Japan and my people, and she praised my father until I almost loved her. But the most wonderful thing of all was that she got Omar to become friendly—ho actually atn a piece of bread out of her hand. Why—what is the matter?' " 'I have dropped a ring,' I said. "In order to save her seeing the horror which filled my face I knelt on the floor, pretending to look for the ring.
" The dog' was stretched on a rug before the fire—he' looked dull. I called him—he turned his head wearily. ' Your dog is not well,' I said. " 'Ho is tired,' she answered. 'He bad a great run after the horses today. Come here, my darling.'
"With an effort the beautiful creature rose and crept towards her; he feebly licked her, little hand, then stretched himself at her feet.
' She looked at me, a tired expression in her eyes. ' I don't know why I am so sleepy—l must go to bed,' she said ' Good-night, Miss Nuttall.'
" I left her—l was glad to be alone. The Jog crawled to his mat. outside the Princess's door. I resolved to sit up, for Captain Maddison had promised to spend' the night in the vestibule, and I was to leave the door unlocked for ■ him. Oh ! I hoped that he would come soon. My heart #was l>eating with agony. I was certain the beautiful, noble dog had been poisoned. I sank into an easy-chair. This was my fourth night without sleep, and I, notwithstanding my agony of mind, felt frightfully sleepy. Oh! of course I wouli not sleep—to sleep now would be worthy of death ! These were my last conscious thoughts, for the next moment I had dropped into profound slumber. " When I awoke hours must have gone by. I fancied I beard a sound—on the instant I was wide awake. Except for the gentle breathing of the little Princess, there was nothing to be heard—all was silence. Nevertheless, my terror grew worse. ] remembered the dog, and softly opening my door called his name. There was no response. I then stood on the threshold of my room. The electric light was bright within, but in the vestibule it was. dark; I could, however, just see the shadow of the hound's vast form as he lay motionless at his mir+rcss s door. But what was that close to him? With a trembling hand I switched on the light; then, indeed, I uttered a cry, foi lying over the body of the dog was a man—Captain Maddison! 1 knelt bj man and dog. In the side of the dog was a great gash or wound from which the blood had slowly oozed—the dog was dead. What about the man I took his limp hand in mine; 1 called his name. He made no reply, so wrapt was he in either death or slumber. At last, to my intense relief, he uttered a groan. He was alive, but I could not rouse, him. I now flew to the Princess's room ; she was sound asleep, a smile on her pretty lips. " Poor Princess! Why should she smile? For I saw hanging from her slender wrist the cut end of hair-plaited string. " The gem Noy-i-Rin was stolen! I clasped my arms round her, and dragged her from her bed. After a time I managed to awaken her.
" ' Wake up, Kitta, I have tlio worst «le»'s; the dojj has beeu poisoned. Cajj-
tain Maddison is very ill, and the jewel is gone.' " The poor child gave a piteous look at her', wrist; then she pulled herself together. 'We must not give way,' she said ; ' and where is Victor P' "While she was speaking she was > slipping on a kimono. I took her hand, , and lei her to the- passage where the > dead nnd unconscious mun lay. She sat down and took ner lovtr's head, on her kneG.,. "'ls there a doctor in tho houseP' ' she asked. "I said, 'Yes, Mr Hnslatt—a specialist for Harley Street.' "'Find him at once, Mifs Nut/tall,' said the Princess, ' and send him hero, ' then wake the Duke and tell him everything.' " Her note, of authority had to be ' obeyed. I took tho Duke aside and told him all the story. His astonish- j nient and horror knew no bounds. "'Now, what *re we to do, Miss* .•Nuttall?' he said. " 'No one—no one must leave 'the " house until two detectives from Scotland Yard arrive. Especially must request ■ that Lady Damans does not leave the house. Duke, 'I ) leave that woman to your tender mer- '. cies. She does not bear too good a character. She was overheard to-day ' talking to a Japanese spy. It is she •. • who lias poisoned the "Jog. It is sho who has stolen the gem. She must not leave the house until she is examined,,, by the police. Duke, I leave her in your charge.' ' " '' "As I spoke T observed that the great hall had filled with j)eople who, ■ had come downstairs in different sort* X of deshabille. Amongst them was Lady -' Damaris. " 'Your Grace,' I said, motioning to * the Duke to accompany-me, and going up to the woman, 'you give this'lady | her liberty at the risk of the life of a',; young and lovely girl. She must be j- 1 confined to her room. She must not be '-■ left alone for a moment. ' '. "Lady Damaris smiled. Her smite , was eo queer that it made me shudder.' • "'You use strong language. Miss'Nuttall,' she said; ' but I am quite will- ,' ing to be the Duke's prisoner, provided —provided I am released after I have been examined by the police.' ~ "I turned away from her. Thet Duke took her hand. 'You will come back with me,' he said. ' '. " As I was going back to my room." I was met by a servant, who put a let-, ter into my hand. ' ' "'Madam, from the , Princess,' she, { said. ~1 " I took it and read it carefully. It * ran as follows:—'Miss Nuttall, I cannot leave Victor to come to you. He is - too ill to do anything himself; but bids ?i me acquaint you with the following.V? According to his arrangement with you "' he came to-our vestibule last night.,' All was darkness. He did not dare to, * switch on the electric light. He was 7 surprised that Omar did hot come to '■ him. He called him; but the dog / made no movement, nor could he hear ,'■ him breathe. He was wondering* ■' whether he should, turn on the light,, or not, when he heard a light step in the corridor; Lady Damaris came- in.. He immediately hid behind a screen.;'' She held a, lighted candle. Sho looked • at the dog, and gave him a push with . her foot; then she laughed horribly.' - * Afterwards she opened the door of my bedroom and entered.. Victor ' struggled to follow her, to shout, to utter' her name; but the most st? - ange thing ; had happened. Ha had lost the power"*' of movement and speech, and' could scarcely keep his eyes open. Lady Damaris remained in my room only i a ■ couple cf moments. Then, putting her ; , candle on the floor, she knelt over the dog and plunged a great knife into his'' side. The blood 'flowed out but feebly. ■ She then opened his mouth and plunged in her hand. Victor could not "■ imagine why. After she had left the / vestibule, Victor, with great difficulty,'. dragged himself • across the floor; for ,' he wanted to turn on the light and.give the alarm; but he had only just reach- , ed the "dog when he fell across the body, ■* lost to all consciousness. Ho wishes you to know at once that some deadly ' drug Wa-s administered to us all, in order to induce sleep and unconsciousness, a lid that, the dog was poisoned. But what ho cannot understand is why • Lady Damaris gave that great wound to a dog already dead. He says per- ' haps the dead dog may help you; but., oh! I have little hope.—Your unhappy Nitta." -
"I pondered over this letter. Sud- ' derily an idea flashed through myV' brain. I trembled with a wild mix-' ture of fear and hope. I remembered ■ that before I became a detective I had 1 ' gone through my medical course. I knew that I have brought with mo my surgical instruments. I went to my. room, took them, also a dark lantern "i and a large glass jar. I left the I bouse and went in the diree- I tion of the stable. Every individual J belonging to the great establishment was now in the bouse waiting to be /' examined. "With some difficulty I found ':i the right stable, where the great beast ■''.] had been laid on a wide bench. I knelt down and examined him carefully, then, arranging the lantern and i opening my case, I "plunged a long 1 knife uitp the body, 1 removed the on- 1 tire contents of the stomach and put' ■ them into the glass jar; these might be examinedtjater '' I was about to turn away when it occurred to me that I .would complete my job. I prepared to make a careful examination of the oesophagus and. larynx. To do this I had to place my hand on the throat, preparatory to making another incision. I encounter-. od something—something hard. I opened the throat and shot the hard substanco into my hand. It was the leather bag which contained the Noy-J-Rin.
'• 'lf you don't give' me that at onc», . I fire.' Tlie words were hissed into my ear, and T saw pointed at my temple the barrel of a revolver. The light of mv lantern shone on tlyj polished motal. "That which ensued was over in a few moments, for I was accustomed to act quickly in time of danger. I am a strong girl,, and have not done my Sandow for nothing. I know the look which means death when it comes into the human eye, and there was murder then in the eyes of Lady Damaris. In a Hash 1 had her by the wrist, and . with all my force I dashed her against the wall. The revolver exploded towards the ceiling, the woman lay motionless at my feet. The whole thine was clear—the stone had been buried in the dog, forced into his throat with the intention of exhuming it when the first bustle and excitement had died away. " T rushed with my treasure towards the house. I knocked at the door of the room where Captain Maddison was lying, the little Princess watching him. I put the leather bag containing the gem into her hand. "'Here,' T said, 'you are saved. Was there evur such n woman ? Think it all out. Princess. She poisoned the dog first; then, in order to prevent a post-mortem, wounded him in the side, believing that people would think that he had died of the wound. Having done this, she thrust the gem in its leather bag down his throat. She, of course, meant to oxbuine the body when the excitement had blown over, and thus secure the gem and your death. But she has failed,, and I think we have a strong case against her.' "I rushed back to the stables, but although wise in some things, I wns a fool in others: durir.g my absence Lady Damaris had fled. In vain we set the best London detectives on her track. Tip to the present we have heard nothing of her. "But what matters that?" continued Margnret Nuttall. "Captain Maddison w'll get better, and the 1 sweet little Princess will be his happy wife."
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Star (Christchurch), Issue 10418, 23 March 1912, Page 3
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8,001MATCHMAKERS LIMITED. Star (Christchurch), Issue 10418, 23 March 1912, Page 3
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