“THE EVIL THAT MEN DO”

Wairarapa Daily Times, 18 August 1936, Page 7

“THE EVIL THAT MEN DO”

CHAPTER II (Continued). The two men, rascals both, eyed one another with the bitterest animosity. Phesey felt as if he would like to crush the other by a blow, while Pycroft harboured a fierce desire to strangle the man who had defrauded him of the ten pounds he ought to have received. Both, however, had reasons for preserving an outward show of peace. ‘‘Step with me into our kitchen for a few minutes, friend Phesey,” said the widow’s son—“there’s no one there, and I have something to say that you will find well worth hearing.” Phesey was at first inclined to refuse, but something in Pycroft’s manner aroused his curiosity, and, wondering what it was that seemed to necessitate a secret interview, he followed the man into liis house.

“You have had, I believe, high words with Mr Fazzard?” Pycroft began. “Yes,” replied Phesey, “we have cprarrelled. ’ ’ “Was it about the ten pounds I did not get?” asked Pycroft. “It was,” answered Phesey. “Noav, supposing I put before you,” said Pycroft, looking hard at his listener in order to judge the effect of what he was about to say, “a scheme which, if successfully carried out, will make the fortunes of both of us, are you prepared to join me in it and act squarely by me in the matter?” “That,” said the discharged valet cautiously, “depends on the nature of your proposal.” Pycroft, leaning forward and speaking very slowly, said, “I suppose you know that the boy upstairs will some day come in for his father’s property?” “I have no doubt he will.”

“And,” continued Pycroft, “as. heir to the Red House estate, and Mr Maxwell’s other place in the Highlands, he will be worth some thousands a year?” “That,” answered Phesey, “naturally follows.” “Then does it not occur to you,” returned Pycroft, “that through that boy we may be able to realise a good round sum?” “I fail to see how that can be. You are asking me to solve a riddle,” said Phesey, “and I am not good at conundrums. ’ ’

“Then,” said Pycroft, “I will speak more plainly. Suppose the boy was taken away from here and kept in some place where no one could find him, the heir to Mr Fazzard’s estates Avould be missing when wanted. That, I think, is clear enough, isn’t it?” “Ah!” exclaimed Phesey. “You are suggesting, in point of fact, that the boy should be stolen and that moiv y might be demanded and paid for giving him up?” “Precisely,” assented Pycroft, “and the thing can be done so very easily.” “Yes,” said Mark Phesey at last, speaking with great deliberation, “I am willing to join you in what you propose. ’ ’

“Glad to hear you say so,” returned Pycroft heartily. “Let us shake hands upon it. When is the job to be done? Shall I say to-morrow?” “Yes,” replioed Phesey, “the sooner the better. But how are you to get the lad away?” “There is one question I must ask,” ■said Phesey, “and that is—what is to be done with the boy when he is taken from the house?”

“That will be my business,” was the answer. “I know a place to which he can be taken, and where he will be well cared for; a place, also, in which there need be little fear of his being discovered.”

“Very well,” said Phesey; “I will go and see what can be done with Mr Fazzard.”

Proceeding at once to his, late employer’s room, Phesey found that gentleman in the depths of melancholy. His little boy was standing at his knee, and, as Phesey entered, the father, turning quickly and recognising his visitor, pressed the lad to his breast as though he had a presentiment of some hovering evil directed alike against himself and the child. “Phesey!” he said. “I had no expectation of seeing you again. What has brought you here?” “My reason for coming back, sir,” said Phesey, “is my anxiety to make peace with you. I greatly regret that I acted as I did; but as I had received nothing from you for a long time, and was in much need of money, I thought I was justified in taking the ten pounds. ” “But why,” asked Mr Fazzard, “did you not ask me for it, or tell me, like an honest man, that you had taken the money?”

“I ought, no doubt, to have done so,” replied Phesey, “but we do not always do exactly as we should. I can only add that, if you are willing to overlook the matter, I am willing to remain here and perform my customary duties as long as my services are required.” Here Phesey had evidently struck the right note, for Fazzard suddenly extended his hand and said heartily: “You are right, Phesey; it is ridiculous for us to quarrel; let us shake hands and forget all that has passed. I have no wish to bear ill-will.”

Their quarrel apparently ended, the old relations between the two were renewed, and a long discussion ensued ns to a project Simon Fazzard had often discussed with his factotum—namely, to seek a safe shelter in France or in some other country beyond the

Phesey listened patiently to all his master had to say, and, while pretending acquiescence in his plans, was busily revolving in his mind how best to carry out Pycroft’s villainous scheme.

He saw, however, that there were difficulties in the way—difficulties that might not be easily overcome. Having for a long period acted as his master’s, secretary he had, of course, an intimate knowledge of his affairs, and

BY R. DONOVAN,

(To bo Continued.)

was well aware that in the iron box kept so carefully locked up in the oaken cupboard were all the documents relating to his Highland property, as well as a sum of a hundred pounds that had lately been sent to him by his sister. Conceiving it to be of great importance that all these papers should be at the disposal of him who held possession of the son,, Phesey cudgelled his brains as to lioav they might be got at when the boy was removed; because, in the event of the father’s death, it would be a very perplexing matter should they fall into other hands.

Several days passed, after his reconciliation with his employer, without an opportunity being offered for the execution of his wicked scheme. The iron box was kept securely locked within the oaken cupboard, and the keys of both were constantly in Mr Fazzard’s possession. Beyond this, the child was seldom out of his father’s sight, and Phesey sought in vain for an opportunity of taking him out. Fazzard was still resolutely bent on the long-cherished project of escaping to France, the principal obstacle being the want of sufficient funds.

He knew he could procure additional money from his .sister, but how was ho to send for it? He had become suspicious of Phesey after the Pycroft affair, and was averse to sending him to his sister in the north.

Having turned the matter, over in every possible light, Fazzard finally came to the desperate resolve that he would go north himself, and forthwith announced his intention to Mark Phesey.

“What? Going to your sister?” Mark cried.in amazement. “You must be mad to think of such a tiling.” “If I am mad,” returned his master, “I have endured sufficient to make me so. But such is my determination. I shall leave to-morrow evening, and, if I arrive there in safety, I shall remain with my sister for a day or two,, returning here as fast as possible. Should I succeed in getting back I shall lose no time in making for France; but in case of failure I commit to you the care of my son. . He must be taken to his aunt, together with all my papers, which are contained in the box we brought with us. Tell me, Phesey, can I rely on your faithfully carrying out my wishes?” “Yes, sir, you can!” was the answer given, with apparent sincerity. “Thanks, friend!” said Fazzard, “and now to complete my preparations! ’ ’

He had resolved to make his way north in the guise of a beggar. Ragged clothes were procured, and by one means and another Fazzard so altered his appearance that even his most intimate friends would have had a difficulty in recognising him.

Thinking it best to wait until a late hour, he had resolved not to leave the house until a little before midnight, and as the clock struck eleven he crept softly to his son’s bed.

The risk lie was about to run, and the possibility of never more being able to look upon his heir again, saddened his heart, and as he left the little one’s bedside he could not restrain a parting tear. He bade a kindly farewell to Phesey, to whom he gave his, final injunctions as to the special care he was to take of the boy, and then, in the drenching rain, he set out upon his journey. All was still within the house as Ins foot crossed the threshold. Madge Pycroft had long been soundly sleeping in her garret. Her disreputable son had found his, way home, a good deal the worse for liquor, and there had been a quarrel between the two, she roundly rating him as a lazy, drunken sot, not worthy of his salt, to which Preaching Jim’s" only retort rya's to roll himself in his rug, lie down in his corner, and go off to sleep. When Mr Fazzard had gone, Mark Phesey carefully locked up his room and retired to rest. He was delighted with the turn events had taken; everything seemed to have converged in his favour, and he felt that there was now no obstacle or difficulty to prevent the success of the devilish scheme he had concocted with Preaching Jim. As Fazzard made his way through Tanner’s Yard the place was apparently quite deserted; nevertheless, a human figure, wrapped in a long cloak, with head and features concealed by a broad, slouched hat, stepped out from a doorway and with noiseless tread followed him. When at times, the disguised man slackened his pace the figure paused also, and whenever Fazzard quickened his footsteps the figure did the same, following always at the same distance and keeping as much as possible in the shadow of the houses.

Fazzard, having no reason to look round, was, entirely unconscious of the fact that he was being followed. And so pursuer and pursued forged ahead until, after some little distance had been covered by the two, the second man quickened his pace and, at a turning of the road, came up with the man he had been shadowing.

Hearing footsteps Fazzard turned round and, for the first time,, saw the muffled figure which had tracked him from his lodgings. “What do you want?” he demanded. To this there was- no verbal reply; the answer came in another shape. Raising his arm, a dirk for an instant flashed in the stranger’s hand, and, with a movement quick as lightning, the deadly weapon was buried to the hilt in Fazzard ’s 1 breast. The victim staggered under the blow, falling backwards against the wall. Making a desperate effort to support himself, lie clutched at the poignard and drew it out. llie weapon fell with a sharp clang upon the pavement, and blood poured in a toirent from the gaping wound. The blow was mortal; a, gurgling sound issued from the victim’s throat, his whole frame quivered with violent spasms, and in a few moments he lay still and —dead!