The Man of Silence.

Waipa Post, Volume VII, Issue 321, 9 June 1914, Page 2

The Man of Silence.

BY TOM GALLON,

(A.LL RIOHTS EB3?nVTsD )

Author of " My Lady, of the Ruins,' " Fate's Beggar Maid," etc.

CHAPTER ll.—(Continued.)

Reuben walked down the steps leading from the terrace to the grounds; they saw him flick off the ash from the end of his cigar; they traced him by the little glow of light as he moved away slowly towards the river. Vincent, making a movement towards the open French window, felt a touch upon his arm, and turned quickly and looked into Madeline's eyes.

"Don't go!" she whispered, with a little catch in her voice. "If you love me, don't go!"

Vincent had been in a mood to turn back, even in that instant ot starting ; her words —sounding ridiculously in his ears —swung him in the opposite direction. "My dear Madeline —you're too absurd!" and ran down the steps in the wake of his brother.

Noah Stark, lying prone among the bushes, saw the two men in evening dress come down the steps and move towards the river. As they walked the big man was a little in advance and the slighter one was behind him. Noah Stark saw the big man take the other's arm, so that they walked on together; heard a light boyish laugh from the younger of the brothers. Then, passing so close that he could almost have touched them, Stark saw the lighter figure step ahead, and stand just beyond him on the landing-stage, looking out at the river. And the big man stooped for a moment, and seemed to pick up something from behind a tree; then he moved with cat-like tread towards the man who was standing at the brink of the river.

CHAPTER HI. In his excitement Mr. Noah Stark raised himself on his hands and peered out through the bushes at the little drama upon which the curtain had risen, as it were, f,or his special benefit. Gone was the thought of the proposed burglary. Here was a matter that swept away in an :n----stant anything so commonplace. Vincent turned at the water's edge, in time to face the man stealing upon him;'and then, as he realised what was to happen, he sprang towards his brother. Sheer amazement had lost him a couple of moments before he spread out his arms to protect his head from the murderous rain of blows beating down upon it. "Reuben! For Heaven's sake —"

Reuben, as he followed his brother, had caught up from behind a tree a short, knotted branch which he must have known was there. This was the weapon ready to his hand, and fie flung all his force into one final blow, that caused Vincent to stagger back, with a groan, and topple over into the water. "She loves you—docs she? Let her love you now !"

Something floating away on the dark water; a man in evening dress, who had flung his weapon from him. to float away on the stream; ano'.her man crouched in the bushes—watching. Then Reuben staggered up the bank, and went running like a madman through the trees, until presently he stopped, took a cigar and lighted it with difficulty, set his teeth firmly upon it, and began to stroll back to the house. When the first shock of what he had seen had cleared away from his brain, Noah Stark parted the bushes with his hands, and, listening for any sound, crept down to where a boat was moored against the land-ing-stage.

With the quick ease of a man used to boats he had this afloat, silently enough, before Reuben had gone twenty yards towards the house. Crouching low in it, and keeping a watch upon the surface of the waters he presently saw what he searched for floating along before him. Then, just as he reached it, it was gone with ever-widening circles upon the water. Fearing discovery no longer, he stood upright in the boat, moving it deftly with one oar, and watched the water. There it was; and now he had it firmly, and could gain time to steady himself and the boat and to get it on board.

That last was a difficult matter. More than once the body of the young man threatened to slip out of his grasp; more than once Noah Stark swore softly to himself as he essayed to get the man into the boat. At last, after one despairing glance round about him, his eye lighted on the flame of that candle burning in the hut on the river bank. He knotted his fingers in die clothing of the man in the water, and began.with difficulty to propel the boat in that direction. More than once he stopped, as though inticipating pursuit; then he went 9n again, until at last the boat nosed itself into the bank, and he iprang out, still keep'.ng his grasp of the man, and so dragged liJti to land.

Stark stood there, looking down at that still thing; then, in a sort of hoarse cry, he called to the other man he had left in the hut:

Danny! Danny Batson!" There was no response, and Stark, evidently unwilling to leave

that drewned thing on the bank, hovered between it and- the lighted hut, and inwardly cursed Batson for being probably asleep. At last the dead stillness of the night seemed 4 to suggest that he had no cause for such caution, and he raised his voice to a hoarse shout.

"Danny! Danny Batson!" A figure darkened the doorway of the hut, and Danny Batson came stumbling out of it. He had evidently been asleep, despite his terror of the dead man in the hut. He was rubbing his eyes as he came hurrying down the bank. So, falling sleepily almost into the arms of Noah Stark, he stumbled against that figure ljmgj on the bank and recoiled with a cry. "Not —not another!" cried the little man.

"Yes —another," snapped Stark, turning upon him fiercely. "And a better one than the last, Danny—a rich one this time. Bear a hand, man; this is worth more than all the burglaries, I can tell you." "What are yer goin' ter do with 'im?" asked the little man, in a whisper. "Dunno' yet," replied Stark, quickly. "It wants thinkin' abaht. Bear a 'and, I tell yer; I want to get 'im into the light." "You'll be gittin' us both inter trouble, Noah," said the little man, protestingly. "Won't they begin to wonder, if you goes an' asks fer two rewards?"

"Shut yer 'ead!" exclaimed Stark, with an oath. "Maybe I'm goin' to ask fer sich a reward fer this one as'll drain somebody's pockets pretty dry. Bear a 'and, I tell yer; I want to 'ave a look at 'im." With Noah Stark taking his shoulders, and Danny Batson the legs, they contrived to carry that poor, battered thing up into the hut; and laid it down there where it made pools of water on the broken floor of the place. Stark, on his knees, bent over Vincent Avondale. and laid his ear to his breast; presently he glanced up at Danny Batson, who was standing peering down at him with a face of awe.

"Bit of a flutter there," he said, in a whisper, "but it won't last." He rose to his feet, and still speaking in a whisper, as though the man lying at his feet could hear him, said impressively: "D'yer know wot this means, Danny? This means murder —an' rich folks' murder at that. Two gents strollin' out, peacefullike, a-smokin' in the moonlight—an' the big'un suddenly ups an' 'its the little 'un an' chucks 'im in the river. Mp bein' 'andy, pulls 'im aht —and 'ere 'e 'is.' _ _ "Wot yer goin' ter do \viv 'im?' psked Danny Batson- ' Stark did not reply. He was standing looking down at Vincent Avondale with a puzzled frown upon his face, utterly callous as to whether •he was alive or dead, and thinking only of what could be made out of him, and out of the tragedy that had been enacted on the river bank. "There's money in 'im, Danny," lie said at last, "an' the on'y thing to be thought of is 'ow much, an' wot's the best way of gittin' it. If wo could bring 'im round, an' pull 'im togevver a bit, 'e might be worth a good deal more than if 'e was ter die on our 'ands. Yes,, that's the ticket," he cried, with sudden vehemence. Let's take these soppin' things off and git 'im warm. Light a fire, Danny; break up anythink, an' light a fire. There's money in this, an' you and me'll share and share alike, in spite of all I've said. Money in it, Danny—pots o' monev."

Danny Batson, trotting to and fro in the hut, breaking up an old box and some driftwood that was piled in a corner, looked doubtful; but Stark, as he commenced to strip the body, smiled grimly to himself, as though the business he had fn his mind was a settled, and assured thing. And the guilty man, who had made his way to the house, stopped half-a-dozen times to look baek over his shoulder and to listen, Surely that was something running along the path there—something that stretched out hands to him and called him brother! Or was that a cry from the r i ver — a cry from something battered and broken and beaten and drowning? It was necessary that he should walk into the house humming a time, though he hummed that between chattering teeth. And it was unfortunate that Madeline should come towards him as he entered the open hall door and Should stop on seeing him alone. "Where is Vincent'.?" she asked, qui'cklv. "Gone for a stroll along the tow-ing-path," he answered carelessly. "As a matter of fact, my dear Madeline, T believe that he wants to stop out under the stars for a little time longer, to dream about a certain young lady for whom he has a modernte sort of aiffection. Peril, tns vou know her name?" His tone of banter was admirably done; Madeline Laughed a little.' and then moved towards the onen hall door. "Shall we go and mo-.-t him?" she suggested. "No, I wouldn't do-' that," said the man, quickly. "-In the (first place, T should be p't'nying goosc-ben-v'; and under all. the circumsfnn'res, I shouldn't care for that; n-d h the second rj'.ace, I think Y'n-epl wants to be left alone. .He's so happy, and, life is such a

wonderful thing to him fo-nigHfs and he wants to dream about it.-'

Vincent happy, with the swirt river bearing him away, and battering him against piles and land-ing-stages and boats, and spoiling the fair beauty of him, on this night when ho had come into his kingdom ! The man repressed a shudder as he said the words.

"He'll come back soon, I suppose?" asked the girl. "Of course. He'll come backvery soon."

She nodded and smiled at him; he watched her as she went slowly up the stairs. At the bend of the staircase she paused for a moment and looked down at him. With that new understanding between them, as she imagined it, she waved a hand gaily to him, and smiled, and went on up the staircase out of sight. The murderer, standing there alone, wouM have given all he had in the world to have had the boy beside him, alive and strong and well and laughi/ig; would have given all he had in the word to be back again at that moment the clock had marked half an hour previouslv.

He went into the dining-room, where Mr. Clarence Westley was smoking a cigar and sipping a very weak whisky and soda. The elder man looked up as Reuben entered, and asked that natural and simple question: "Where's Vincent?"

The question was becoming irritating and awful. Reuben, iivjhe very act of pouring some spirits into a glass, answered snappishly, "Gone for a walk. Likes the beauty of the night, I suppose. What's the matter with you?" For Clarence Westley had risen slowly from his chair and was staring at Reuben Avondalc. Reuben had stopped in the very act of pouring out theliquor; the decanter was rattling strangely against the edge of the glass. "What makes your hand shake like that?'" said Clarence Westley, in a whisper. Reuben set down the decanter with a bang, ran suddenly at the other man, and caught him by the shoulders.

"I tell you he's gone for a walk." he said, huskily. "He'll be back directly —he may come in at any moment! He may walk in at that door at any moment, I tell you!" Yet he glanced over his shoulder fearfully as he spoke, and stood still, in tile attitude of one listening. When he turned again to lopk at Clarence Westley he saw that the little man with the long beard had withdrawn himself to the other side of the table, and, with one hand clutching his beard, was staring at him wide-eyed and with a dropping jaw. "What's the matter with you " asked Reuben, in a deadly voice. "Nothing—nothing at all," faltered the other; "if you're quite sure he's coming back!" Reuben laughed, mixed his drink, and swallowed it at a gulp. Clarence Westley seemed to require a stronger mixture than usual, and his hand shook too when presently he raised his glass, looking over the rim of it at the other man. "Of course he'll come back," said Reuben, slowly, as he raised his glass. "I drink to brighter times for you, my friend," he added, mean'ingly - - "and to a new chance of happiness for me." The two men looked at each other across the table. Clarence Westley emptied his glass with a little, quick sob that was almost like a hysterical laugh. "I—l don't understand!" faltered the elder man.

"There's nothing for you to understand," said Reuben. "Go to bed!"

A little later,- when the house had grown very silent, Reuben made up his mind to go to his room. The thing that he had done that night was something he could shut out of his mind and forget. Time enough to think of what to do and what to say when the moment should arrive when he would be confronted with the news of the finding of the body. For the moment he wanted rest—a dcadlv weariness had stolen upon him, and he felt that he must sleeo, and must wait, with what conrage he could muster, for the morning. He went to his room, and closed and locked the door; then sank down into a chair, suddenly dropped his face in his hands, and groaned aloud. Visions of all that the boy had been to him in his life swept over him like a flood. Sunny days when they had gone on same expedition together; mad, exciting nights in London, when the boy had been full of life _ and high spirits. In that room just behind him where he sat was the bed in which Vincent had slept the night before, and in which he would never sleep again. And only last night he had come into the room here to smoke a final cigarette before going to bed—as was his habit always.

It was impossible to stay in the house; he must get away from anything that reminded him of his dead brother. He unlocked the door and downstairs—to be met in' the hall by a manservant, with that eternal question on his lips—- " How long do you think Mr. Vincent will be, sir?"

(To be Continued.)—-M.S. 3.