CHAPTER II.

Tuapeka Times, Volume XX, Issue 1415, 24 December 1887, Page 1 (Supplement)

CHAPTER 11.

" Sandhurst train start soon, guard ?" " Sandhurst mail. Why ! it's gone five minutes ago."

"Gone! The devil it has! It can't have gone. It's not twelve yet." " Watch must have stopped, sir. It went five minutes ago." The scene was the Spencer Street Railway Station, and the speakers were Anthony Langford and an abnormally sleepy guard.

"Great Heavens !" exclaimed Anthony in dispair. " I shall miss the meeting ; I shall be ruined."

The sleepy guard looked sympathetically at his companion on the dark platform; but, evidently not understanding him, maintained a discreet silence.

" When does the next train go ? asked Anthony, after a pause of painful thought.

" There's a goods train starts at a quarter past five," responded the guard.

"That'll do," said Anthony in a tone of relief . " I haven't to be there until 11. I shall still be in time, thank Heaven ! You are sure it's a quarter past five it starts."

" Certain sure," said the guard, oracularly.

" Well, I'll take care this time not to miss it," said Anthony, and he spoke or thought it.

How to pass the few intervening hours was the next question. He himself as well as his lady-love, lived at Albert Park ; and it was no use entertaining the idea of returning there for a few hour's rest. Anthony determined to go to an hotel for the short time, thafc was at his disposal. The principal hotel of the neighborhood he found closed, and knocking failing to elicit an answer, he left it to look for another. A light streaming from a partially-closed door attracted his attention, and looking up, saw that it came from a mediocre-looking public-house with "Angel Hotel" painted across the front. The place did not look over and above invitiug, but as the time at his disposal was short and he meantonly to throw himself, dressed as he was, on the bed and snatch a few hours sleep, he entered and a3ked if he could be provided with a bed.

The landlord answered in the affirmative, and showed him up to a plainly furnished bedroom on the first floor.

" It's a double-bedded room," he said, "and there's a gentleman in the other bed. But its the only room I have vacant, and he's asleep and won't disturb you." The room looked clean, and Anthony was tired to deatii, so impressing on the landlord that he wished to be called at five precisely, he shut the door after his host's retreating form, and taking off his coat and boots, threw himself on the bed.

He slept soundly, but awoke with a start before dawn, his mind full of the idea that he was on the point of missing the train. Again looking at his watch, he found it was barely half past four ; whilst the silence in the house betokened the fact that nobody was yet about. It was no use going to sleep again, and full of the idea of the importance of not missing his train a second time, he sprang out of bed and began to dress himself. On approaching the dressing-table, he saw laying on it a silver watch and chain together with a heap of money — some of itgold, but the greater part slyer. It evidently hclonged to the man in the other bed. He appeared to be still asleep, aud. the bed elobhes were heaped somawhat strangely around him, so as to hide him from view.

Wondering at the cirelessness that could leave so much money laying at the mercy of any chance person who might happen fco enter, as the young man was about to leave the room, he thought he would venture to give the man a word of warning as to the risk ho ran of getting his property stolon. The corner in which his bed was situated was darker than the part of the room which Anthony had occupied, aud which wes lighted by the w'.n'o* ; so that lie could see nothing but the faint outline of the man. Placing his hand on the other's shoulder, Anthony gave him a gentle shake. The man moved heavily under his hand, but without "iking. Bending down in the semi-obsc rit for the purpose of seeing whether tht s .eper was drunk — which seemed to be tlie case — the young man saw that which caused him to utter a cry of horror, and start horror-stricken from the bed.

The man was dead— with his throat cut from ear to ear.

Anthony was so paralyzed by this terrible discovery that the blood seemed to freeze in his veins. He put his hand to his forehead with a feeling of unutterable horror ; but a certain clamminess in its touch caused him to take it away again with a feeling of loathing. It was red with sickening blood from contact with the gory shirt of the dead man. Looking down, the young man saw with affright that he was standing in a pool of blood that had dripped from the bed. At this discovery hia terror became all the more overpowering, and, starting back in unutterable horror, he rushed madly from the room.

There was nobody about, and he plunged wildly down the narrow stairs and into a small parlor, the door of which stood ajar. Falling almost unconscious on to the sofa, he buried his face in his hands, trying to. banish the terrible picture of the blood-stained corpse upstairs.

Gradually his mind became more composed, and he recovered in a measure from the first overpowering horror the discovery had aroused in him. The man. was dead. One glance, brief as it was, had showed Anthony that. In all probability life had been extinct some time. But whether it was a case of murder or suicide Anthony could form no idea. A neighboring clock suddenly striking five, all at once reminded him of his mission. His thoughts suddenly underwent an entire revolution. If he lost the quarter past five train he would be too late for the object he had in hand. If he failed to Bend in his report at the proper time, tie would in all probability get dismissed, for he had no business to miss the right train. And supposing he was suspected of murdering his fellowlodger. He<was in the room at the time — the man's watch and money might have been a tempting bait — the landlord might swear the man was alive when he had shown Anthony into the room. As these disjointed thoughts coursed through his mind, the young man rose from the sofa, and hesitated between making for the door and alarming the house. The thought of Nellie, and the fear of losing her, decided him ; and vowing to himself that on his return he would go boldly to the police and tell all he know of the terrible tragedy, Anthony softly made his way to the front door, unlatched it, and stepped into the street. The fresh morning air revived him

wonderfully, and with one fearful glance around, he walked swiftly along the deserted street in the direction of the station. But he had not proceeded a hundred yards when he became conscious of a hurried step behind him. In a sudden burst of unreasoning fear he broke into a quicker walk, then into a run, but the hurried steps behind him came nearer and nearer, and a man, rushing violently against him, threw him down and then sprang on to him. It was the landlord of the "Angel."

Breathless and panting, he grasped Anthony by the collar.

"I've got you !" he gasped. "Come back with me."

With a docility that was born of unreasoning terror, the young man made no answer, offered no resistance. His brain whirled with the terror and affright that his position aroused in him. Without a word he accompanied the landlord back to the hotel — without a word he allowed himself to be shut up in the little parlor he had before entered. Only when a quarter-of -an-hour later a stern policeman entered the room, and laying his hand heavily on his shoulder, said : "I arrest you for murder. You are my prisoner ;" then poor Anthony turned blankly round, and fell senseless to the ground.