The Tragedy of a Coronet.

Wanganui Herald, Volume XXII, Issue 6407, 7 January 1888, Page 4

The Tragedy of a Coronet.

The tidal train was on the point of Btarting from Charing Cross. People ■were hurrying to and fro, joßtling each other rudely, for the station was crowded. Porters were driving trucks piled with luggage, recklessly along the platform, regardless of life or limb. In an otherwise empty compartment of a first class carriage, Captain Charles Ktzgerald settled himself and his belongings with a view to luxurious comfort, and was congratulating himself that he would remain undisturbed as far as Dover ; for the door was locked and the train, as I have said, was just about to start. He was in the act of unfolding the yet damp oheets of the Spectator, when the key was hastily applied to the door, and a young man sprang in, supplemented by a neatly strapped rug and a travelling bag. The whistle sounded, the door was banged, and they were off. A near thing ! observed the new comer, rather out of breath. And all owing to an ass of a cabman. Would insist on charging me three shillings from the Easton Road, Better pay three shillings tharilose your train, observed Fitzgerald, with a smile. Oh, yes ; that's all very well,- but three shillings is a consideration to me, returned the other frankly, as he unstrapped his rug; for the night was cold, though it was the end of July. Fitzgerald tilted his cap further over his eyes, thinking the while what a singularly pleasant face his companion had. If there was one thing upon which Charles Fitzgerald prided himself, and with some reason, it was his astuteness in reading character; and this young fellow's appearance pleased him mightily. Eitzgerald himself was a big, goodnatured fellow, of 30, or thereabouts, with deep voice, sleepy grey eyes, a sweeping, fair moustache, and an air of being on easy terms with the world in general. The other was tall too, but slight He looked quite young, barely 25, and had a delicatefeatured, girlish face, with laughing, light-hazel eyes and sunny hair. He was clean-shaved, with the exception of very slight, Bhort whiskers, and was dressed in a suit of dark tweed, which, though well made, appeared slightly the worse for wear. Having replaced his hat by a shabby little travelling cap, he settled himself in his corner, and became absorbed in the Sportsman Some miles had been traversed in silence, when Fitzgerald, producing his cigar-case, selected a cigar, and offered one to his companion. N Thank you, I don't smoke, said the other, looking up from the paper with a smile. Fitzgerald looked surprised. No ? I thought you looked like a Bmoker, he said, as he struck a match. I don't care about it, returned his companion. Besides, he said thoughtfully, I find it clouds the brain. Ah, perhaps. Then I presume you don't drink either ? No, with another smile. Well, I don't but what you are right, observed Fitzgerald lazily. I've often thought of going in for that sort of thing myself. And yet — I might do without liquor, dare say I could — but, by Jove ! Ido not think I could forswear tobacco. You are crossing to-night, I suppose 9 said the other, after a pause. Yes. I have a few weeks' leave, ■which I intend spending in Spain. It is the only European country I do not know. I mean to go straight through to Madrid, then north as far m Oviedo ; I want to see the Spanish gun factories near Trubia. Then I shall go as far south as my time allows. Ah, that's curious. lam going to Madrid, so we are likely to be travelling companions for some time. Do do you speak Spanish) Very imperfectly, I am sorry to Bay. Well, I can help you there. It is awkward getting along if you are not ■well up in the language. I know Spain very well. It is a queer country, and a fellow wants all his wits about him. They got to talk on various subjects after this, and as the train Beared Dover, Fitzgerald, who was conscious of a rapidly growing liking for this handsome, gentlemanly young fellow, said genially : By the way, as we are to be eompagnons des voyage, we may as well better acquainted. And pulling out his card-case, he extracted a card therefrom, and handed it to his companion, who glanced at it with a courteous smile. I am sorry I have not a card of mine to give you in return, he said, with a boyish look of regret in his handsome eyes, but my name is RoyBton, Julian Eoyston. Here the train ran along the platform at Dover, and the two then mingled with the stream of other passengers, and hastened on board the waiting boat. It had begun to rain, and the air felt raw and chilly. It looks like a dirty night, observed Royston, turning up his coat collar, and regarding the sky attentively, as the steamer dipped and rocked about in the manner peculiar to channel' steamers. Sorry to hear it, said Fitzgerald, with a shrug of his broad shoulders. It is a bad look out for me. Just then the boat, which had left the pier some minutes before, began to pitch frightfully, and most of the passengers on deck became conspicuous by their absence. Now, the truth compels me to state that, fine manly fellow as he undoubtedly was, Captain Fitzgerald ■was not a particularly good sailor. Indeed, to be quite candid, he was distinctly the reverse. Though he had performed a considerable number of voyagea, the result had been invariably the same. The most moderate storm was sufficient to drive him precipitately to his berth, where he would remain prostrate for hours, or perhaps days, a disgusted and hopeless martyr to the languished paroxysms and degrading agonies of violent sea-sickness. Therefore, as there was a very respectable gale blowing on the night I speak of, the boat was barely outside of Dover Harbour, when Fitzgerald changed colour visibly, and tossed away his

cigar. I think I'll go down and have some brandy, he said, with a decidedly idckly smile, when the steamer had executed some truly fiendish twists find rolls. - Do, said Royston. You are a bad fiailor, I can see.

-. Accordingly Fitzgerald went below, fend throwing himself on an empty : .Corner ooucji i]<k the dimly lighted

cabin, he closed his eyes, and onged or death— or Calais. During one of those respites which, happily, even this cruel and humiliating malady grants its victims, he looked up to see Royston standing looking down at him with some concern. I say, you are very bad 1 he Said gravely, as he surveyed his miserable and exhausted companion. Fitzgerald evidently thought thiß remark required no reply, for he made none. Now will you let me prescribe for you ? went on Royston. Bet I cure you in a jiffey. A deep groan was the only answer. Royston disappeared, steering his way among the prostrate forms around him as steadily and deftly as thought it had been a dead calm. In a few minutes he was back again, bearing a tumbler about half full of whipped eggs. In his other hand he held a small folded paper packet. Now, you see Ihe said, with what appeared to Fitzgerald heartless geniality, I drop this powder — so — into these whipped yolks of eggs: You drink it up, and there you are. Eggs I Fitzgerald's very soul revolted at the thought. Oh, leave me alone, he groaned wretchedly* And for heaven's sake don't talk to me of anything so disgustingly loathsome as eggs! But upon Eoyston's good-natured entreaties and representations that he (Fitzgerald) could not be worse than he was, he finally consented, not without a few muttered objurations, to swallow the untempting mixture. I' don't know what the powder was — would that I did — but its effects were marvellous s for within the next five minutes Captain Fitzgerald was able to sit up, free from the slightest feeling of squirmishuess, and declared himself equal to going on deck. Come along then, said Royston, good humoredly, linking his arm to his companions. Hallo ! that was a roller ! For a sudden heave of the vessel sent both men reeling across the cabin, full against the prostrate form of a dishevelled looking elderly lady, who occupied the opposite seat. I beg your pardon, stammered Ktzgerald, steadying himself aB well as he could. At the same moment Eoyston uttered a sharp exclamation of pain, for an ill-natured looking poodle, which had been keeping jealous guard over its mistress, had resented this intrusion — not to mention an unintentional dig in the ribs from Royston — by a wicked snap at that gentleman's right arm, midway between the wrist and the elbow. Confound you, you little brute, he muttered, pitching it angrily off the seat, regardless of its mistress's expostulatory moans- Let's get out of this, he went on, seizing his his companion's arm again. Bitten you 1 inquired Fitzgerald, as they struggled on deck. Nothing to speak of," said the' other carelessly, pushing off his cuff. The beast has loft his teeth marks, but the skin is unbroken. I'm surprised that a sensible fellow like you should disfigure your flesh in that way, said Fitzgerald, who had bent forward to examine the other's arm. Royston laughed and coloured. Fitzgerald fancied he looked rather annoyed. Oh, that, he said, pulling down his cuff hastily, that was a boyish freak. As you say, it's a piece of folly. The folly alluded to was the deeply tattooed delineation, just above Eoyston's right wrist, of two crossed daggers, surmounted by a cornet. It was not artistically done, and showed distinctly against Mb singularly white skin. Under the daggers was the single letter M. By this time, with infinite trouble and patience, Fitzgerald had lit a cigar. By Jove ! he said heartily, I shall never forget your kindness. Royston. lam awfully indebted to you ; I feel as fit as possible. Why didn't you doctor some of the other unfortunates) Tnat old lady, for instance ? Hadn't another powder left, replied the other. It's a specific I had from an old Spanish captain I met in Mexico. He gave me several rather valuable hints about drugs and that. A curious smile fitted across his face as he spoke, but it was gone again instantly. Travelled much? inquired Fitzgerald lazily, as he leaned against the bulwarks to steady himself. A goodish bit, answered the other. This led to an exchange of mutual travelling experiences, in the course of which Fitzgerald, who was an impulsive, warm hearted fellow, felt more drawn than ever toward this genial and really loveable young stranger. Besideß, he was intensely grateful to him for his timely and efficacious assistance, and by the time they had left Calais behind them, and were steaming along the railway toward the French capital, almost looked upon him as an old friend. They reached Paris in the soft light of the summer morning, and went on to Bordeaux, where they remained all night. From there they proceeded to Madrid, and put up at an unob-strusive-looking- fonda in a narrow street somewhat back from the Puerta del Sol. They did Madrid in the usual way, and enjoyed themselves hugely. One evening, as they were leisurely sipping their coffee after dinner, it chanced that the conversation turned upon gaming. I'm rather lucky at play, as a rule ; always was, remarked Fitzgerald, aB he lit a cigar (he despised cigarettes) and leaned lazily back in his chair. lam not, said the other shortly. Then, after a pause, he continued, The passion for gaming has been my cure. I am invariably unlucky, develish unlucky, but I have an insatiable desire to try my luck again. It is an insanity with me. I am hard enough up now, and if I don't get that appointment here I told you of I shall be harder up still ; but I once had a fortune — I won't tell you how much, you would't believe me if I did. I lost it all at a game called monte. Any coin I happen to have goes the same way ; some demon within me always prompts me with a mad hope that I may win back my lost fortune. If I had /1000 now I would go straight to the nearest casino and play like the devil; the luck would be against me to a dead* certainty ; I should come out without a peseta. I don't play much, said Fitzgerald, thoughtfully flickering the ash off his cigar. Luck has a way of turning at times, don't you know, and I have had one or two rather tight squeezes, luokly though I am in general." Do you know the game of monte 1 asked Royston suddenly. -,

I have played— not often, though. It's a great game here-is it not ?

Yes. If you care to come I can take you — now — to a casino where they play higher than anywhere in Madrid. All right, returned Fitzgerald, getting up and stretching himself. We may as well go there as anywhere else; we needn't play, you know — to any extent." Ever been to Monte Carlo 1 said Royston, as they crossed the Puerto del Sol. Yes, often. Have you ? Rather ! I had my first taste of gaming there, years ago. For the first and last time I broke the bank. I went back the next day, and came out with a S franc piece. Never had any luck since. Curious — how luck goes," said Fitzgerald, stopping to light a fresh cigar. I have only had a turn at the Monte Carlo tables half a dozen times or so, but each time I won some hundreds. I don't go in for that sort of thing much — now. It's risky — deuced risky. And, besides, with rather m embarrassed laugh, I'm engaged to be married, and — well, in short, I've given up gaming — at least very nearly. Ah, said the other, with a sudden, almost painful contraction of his delicately cut featiues, I was once engaged to be married, years ago. Oh, I'm older than I look. And I, too— but there!" abruptly, it's folly to rake up old memories. This way, Fitzgerald." He led the way down a dark side street, and after several short cuts and sharp turnings they passed through a narrow doorway and found themselves in the cardroom of a certain casino in the Calle de Atocha. It was a £long low room, brilliantly lighted by lamps hung from the ceiling. On either side of the narrow green table, which ran j almost the entire length of the apartment, about a dozen men were seated, their swarthy faces dimly visible through clouds of tobacco smoke. I've heard, said Royston in an undertone to Fitzgerald as they entered, that the bank here is backed by a pretty high authority in Madrid; so it's good for any amount. Oh, I shan't risk more than a' tenner, if that, answered the other in the same tone. There was a curious stillness in the room, broken only by the clink of money and the hoarse " Juego !' of the -dealer, behind whose chair the two new comers stood for some time. After watching the game for a few rounds Royston ventured a few pesetas and lost. He tried again a larger sum this time — and agrin he lost. He tried again, and yet again, increasing his stakes each time, but with the same result. A muttered curse broke from between his teeth ; then, with a slight shrug of his shoulders, he said, carelessly ; Have a try, Fitzgerald. With a lazy smile Fitzgerald backed the king, which lay nearest him, with io gold pieces. He won, Next time he placed 20 gold pieces on the seven in the lower row. Again he won. The cards were dealt once more, and Fitzgerald, with a comical look at Royston, placed 40 gold coins on the seven next him. A seven was the second card dealt. Good. Go seven golpes with what you've won, whispered Royston excitedly. The luck's all with you. The other laughed, and placed his winnings on the queen, which lay on the top row. . Again fortune smiled on the tall, indolent looking Englishman. Caramba, muttered a lank faced old Spaniard, between the puffs of his cigarette, Los Engdeses son may JorluTiados, After " going " a few more golpes, which, for the benefit of my uninitiated readers, I may say is simply the term given in the game of monte in Spain to doubling the stakes a given number of times, Fitzgerald had won what in English money equalled Now for a final stroke! he said. I'll risk all I have won on the card nearest me, whatever it may be. And whether I win or lose, I shall play no more. The cards were dealt In the top row were a seven and an ace. In the lower row a queen and a knave. The players looked eagerly to see which card the fortunate Englishman would patronise. He at once, md with an appearance of utter indifference, backed the seven. One or two followed his example. Others, thinking probably that fortune might prove contrary, backed variously the three remaining cards. The dealer slowly " pulled " the cards. Breathless silence reigned. The dark faces round the table were full of an eager, intense excitement, their glittering eyes bent upon the slowly falling Jpieces of pasteboard. Half the pack was dealt, and as yet neither ace, queen, or seven had appeared. The devil? You'll lose, exclaimed Royston quickly. Fitzgerald was now looking rather excited too, for him ; but he only said in quiet, even tones : I think not. The -next card dealt was— a seven. He had won The dealer with a courteous smile handed him two-lhirds of the amount in Spanish notes, and explained that if the senor would wait he would procure the remainder. The senor acquiesced with a grave bow. Meanwhile the Spaniards wers gesticulating excitedly and chattering like a colony of rooks. The winners were jubilant, the loser morose and gloomy. One| 'young fellow, who had staked his last alfonso on the queen, rose and staggered out, hid face like death, his eyes heavy with despair. Ljs Ingleses stood calm and silent t Fitzgerald slightly flushed, Royston very pale. In a short time the dealer returned. Will not the senor try again? he said as he put the roll of notes into Fitzgerald's hand. Such good fortune is sure to follow the senor throughout the evening. But Captain Fitzgera?d shook his head, and murmuring a few words in lamentably bad Spanish, placed his winnings in the breas-pocket of his overcoat, and in company with Royston sauntered from the room. 1 He was in high spirits as they traversed the gaily lighted streets,

Royston, on the other hamd, was rather silent and distrait. By Jove ! he broke out suddenly ; five thousand pounds ! Then with a short laugh, You're a lucky fellow. I had a curious conviction, do you know, returned the other thoughtfully, that I should have lost the next round. That was why I stopped. Ah, there's where we diffei, said Royston in somewhat curt tones. I couldn't have stopped then. I Bay, let's go to some theatre, suggested Fitzgerald, glancing at his watch. It's early yet. Then we'll go back to our hotel, have a cigar and drink and turn in. And to-morrow we'll start by an early train and do the Escurial. An hour or two afterwards they were seated in the coffee rooms of the Fonda de . Fitzgerald, as usual, with a cigar between his lips, and — also, as usual — with a tumbler of brandy and water at his elbow (the wine he declared filthy and undrinkable). He did most of the talking ; Royston — who was leaning back in his chair, his hands clasped behind his head— merely replying in absent monosyllables. During a Blight pause in the conversation two suspicious looking men — who had been seated at a small table slightly behind Fitzgerald — rose simultaneously and left the room. I say, said Royston quietly, would it not bo as well to keep quiet about your luck, Fitzgerald. I don't like the look of those two fellows, jerking his head backwards towards the door. It's hardly wise to advertise so openly that you have such a large sum of money about you. I've more than money about me, replied Fitzgerald with a slight smile. I have a very trusty friend who does not often fail me. No, my dear fellow, I don't mean you — I mean a very straight-shooting revolver. Oh, yes, that's all very well, said Royston seriously, but fellows like these would have a knife into you before you could even take aim with your revolver. I knew of a man who was murdered in a hotel in this city only last year. He had some valuable jewels with him, and he was fool enough to show them in one of the cafes. In the morning he was found dead in his bed — stabbed to the heart — and the jewels were gone. Pooh, nonsense, Royaton. In a public hotel ? The thing is absurd. It is true, nevertheless, quietly. Well, you may set your mind at rest about me, observed Captain Fitzgerald dryly. If any man tries to get into my room to-night with intent to rob and plunder, I'm very sorry for him. I'm a very light sleeper, and a very fair shot ; and I consider myself quite a match for any Spaniard, or two Spaniards, I have had tho pleasure of meeting so far. Fitzgerald, said the other, leaning forward and speaking in an uncertain voice. For heaven's sake promise me you will fasten your bedroom door. I'll be hanged if I do, returned Fitzgerald, who could be as obstinate as a mule at times. Why, Royston, you look as white as a sheet. Hang it all, my good boy, do you think I can't take care of myself ? He rose as he spoke, and with a friendly clap on the other's shoulderß crossed the room to lift a box of matches which lay on a distant table. He stopped as he came back and stood for a few seconds at one of the open windows, whistling softly to himself, and looking out into the moonlit street. As he sat down again his arm caught his tumbler, which stood somewhat too near the edge of the table, j and overturned it, spilling fully half the contents over Royaton's knees. Confound you ! exclaimed tho latter violently ; mind what you are doing. Fitzgerald raised his eyebrows in not unnatural surprise. What on earth do you mean, Royston 1 he said in rather haughty tones. I beg your pardon, returned the young fellow, hastily and apologetically. I'm nervous, somehow, tonight, and your sudden movement startled me. Oh, it's all right replied the other carelessly. Then he finished his brandy and water, with a view, as he said, to prevent further accidents, and lit another cigar. After a quarter of an hour or so of rather desultory conversation, Fitzgerald said in a languid kind of a way, I feel most confoundedly drowsy and done up. I think I shall turn in. AU right, so shall 7, returned Royston, rousing himself from a reverie into which he bad apparently fallen. Come on, you do look seedy. They went upstairs, and Royston followed Fitzgerald into his room, which was next his own. Now, Fitzgerald, he said, as that gentleman proceeded to wind his watch very slowly and laboriously, I hope you will take the precaution of putting that money in a safe place. I'll put it in my pocketbook, and my pocketbook under my pillow, interrupted the other drowsily. I'll lay odds no one touches it there, for the least thing awakes me, and, with a sleepy laugh, when I awake my revolver will awake too. Ah yes, that's right, answered Royston. Hallo, what's the matter ? For Fitzgerald had reeled slightly, and dropped heavily into the nearest chair. I don't know, he said, passing his hand dazedly over his forehead, and speaking faintly and with evident effort, I feel uncommonly queer. If I didn't know I hadn't, 1 should say I had taken more brandy than waß good for me. Pooh, nonsense, giving him a little shake. Rouse yourself, there's a good fellow, and get into bed. All right, you out, said the other, rising somewhat unsteadily to bis feet. Call me in the morning. You are sure your revolver is loaded 1 eaid Royston. Oh, hang it, yes, rather impatiently. # * * * It was just 2 o'clock. The moon was shining through the imperfectly shaded windows of the room where Fitzgerald lay in a heavy Bleep, one arm thrown above his head, his breathing deep and regular. But in a few minutes he stirred uneasily, moaned as if in pain, and finally struggled to a drowsy sense of wakefulness. He lay for some time with closed eyes and clouded brain, dimly conscious of an indescribable feeling of nausea and giddiness. He tried to raise himself, to lift his hand, to turn his head, but a curiously weak, inert feeling pervaded all his limbs— nay, every musole, and seemed to render him incapable of the slightest movement. A cold perspiration broke over him ; he felt horribly Bick and ill

What the deuce is the matter with me, he thought wretchedly. As he lay thus hovering on the borderlands of insensibility, he became vaguely aware of a slight sound in the t oom, and knew in some occult way that the door opened and shut again. With a mighty effort he opened his eyes a little way and that a man was steadily crossing the room on tiptoe. A mask concealed the upper part of his face, a scarf of some kind was wrapped across his mouth and chin. In his hand he carried a long, unsheathed knife, which gleamed and glittered m the moonlight. Fitzgerald's first impulse was, of course, to put out his hand for his revolver which lay at the bedside ; but though his will struggled fiercely against the strange weakness which held him powerless, it was in vain — he could not move. He tried to call out, but his lips were stiff and motionless. The man meanwhile advanced toward the bed, and stooped down. Fitzgerald's eyes were only half open, as those of one who sleeps uneasily; his breathing was laboured and irregular. But the intruder seemed satisfied, and cautiously and slowly felt under the pillow, from whence he drew the well filled pocket book and placed it in the inner pocket of his coat. Then another thought seemed to strike him, and lifting the revolver, he deliberately unloaded it, laid it down again and turned to leave the room. But ere he reached the door Fitzgerald, with an almost superhuman effort, mastered the horrible, mysterious lethargy that chained him, and flinging himself out of bed staggered to his feet with a hoarse cry. The other muttered a frightful curse, and raised his right arm. Fitzgerald saw the knife flash, cold and cruel in the fitful light of the moon. He also saw, with a thrill of incredulous horror, that on the fellow's arm, above the bared wrist, there showed, distinct and unmistakably, against the white skin — two daggers and a cornet ! He could even make out the letter M beneath the daggers. The next moment the knife descended, aimed with deadly precision at his heart. But still dazed and giddy he fell heavily backward ; the moon became suddeuly obscured, and thejweapon, glancing aside in the darkness, buried itself in the fleshy part of his left arm. He felt warm breath on his cheek for a moment, and heard a few fiercely muttered words as the assassin bent over him. With a low groan Fitzgerald turnoi heavily over on his side ; his confused brain took in the fact that the door opened and shut cautiously, that muffled feet passed down the uncarpeted corridor— then he lost consciousness. He soon came to himself again and struggled to sit up. He remained for some time confused, bewildered, fighting against the horrible suspicion which filled his mind. He rose to his feet with difficulty, for the flesh wound in in his arm had bled profusely, and his head still felt light and queer. However, he lit the candle and took a draught of brandy from his flask, which revived him considerably. Having bound up his arm as well as he could he got into his clothes — awkardly enough for his arm was stiff and painful, and he was faint and sick from loss of blood. Then with hasty, uncertain steps, he sought Royston's room. It was empty. He had a confused recollection, after that, of hurrying along the streets in the early dawn, his head throbbing, his. head reeling, his limbs as though weighted with lead. The weather had changed, there was j[a fine rain falling, and in a short time he was wet to the skin. But he went on and on unheeding, threading the narrow streets with unerring though unsteady feet, some instinct guiding his steps, until he reached the casino where fortune had so smiled upon him but a few (hours before. Weary and exhausted he blindly felt his way to the card room, where the fair dawn was shut out and the lamps flared and swirred over the eager, anxious faces, haggard enough some of them, and pinched with the greed of gain. Fitzgerald pushed back the heavy curtain and leaned breathless and sick against the doorway. His languid heavy eyes wandered round the room until they rested on the face he sought — the face of Julian Royston. He sat at the far end of the table, his cheeks and lips bloodless, his teeth clenched, his gleaming eyes fixed on the everchanging cards. He was losing steadily and surely. At last one solitary note remained. With trembling hands he staked it on the queen. A moment's suspense, and then — the opposite card won ! He covered his face with his hands for a second, and staggered to his feet. Tho next moment he raised his eyes and saw Fitzgerald, whose face, deadly pale,, was dimly visible in the shadow of the doorway. An expression of wild, incredulous horror flashed into Rostyn's eyes. He threw up his arms with a terrible half articulate cry, " Oh, my God !" The words, shrill with mingled terror, remorse, and despair, rang through the crowded room, causing the men round the table to start to their feet in alarm. And then— and then there was a quick movement of Royston's hand to hib breast— the gleam and flash of steel— a deep groan, and he fell heavily forward across the table, his life blood staining the cards which had been his ruin and curse. He had stabbed himself to the heart.— Curtis Yorke, in English Magazine.