novelist. MY HOUSE IN OXFORD TERRACE.

Waikato Times, Volume XXX, Issue 2456, 7 April 1888, Page 1 (Supplement)

novelist. MY HOUSE IN OXFORD TERRACE.

CHAPTEE X. (continued.)

Another day passed, and still I was kept a captive in the cabin of an unknown craft. I could gain no information from my solitary attendant, for she remained dumb to all my inquiries, and even some efforts I made to gain her confidence ended in failure. She had but the one stereotyped reply to my questions that " such were her orders." I always perceived, moreover, that on every occasion that she came into the cabin to attend to my wants, she had the appearance of being very guarded as though her actions •were being watched, and at times I fancied I could detect some figure stationed at the door whenever she massed in or out. It was very evident I was not to be allowed an opportunity of making my wrongs known <»*» or gaining assistance to regain m? freedom. My courage, however failed me for a moment,' and I was as determined as ever to oppose my cousin's evil designs at all and to make a resolute attempt to be restored to liberty My mind retained its natural tone and vigour, sharpened, porhaps, by tho peculiar circumstances that surrounded -.me. I had no fear for my personal gaiety ; I Mt satisfiod that Captain Walton had no intentions of going to tho extreme of taking my life, and that ho was merely keeping me out of the way in order to secure the ruin of my poor James. During the course of this day tho tossing motion of the vessel ceased, and I no longer heard the wash of the sea waves against the sides. From the calmness that followed I concluded we had entered some harbour, in which I was proved right by the sounds of activity that reached me from above later on, and the rattling of a chain denoting that the anchor had been di-oppod. A variety of thoughts

rushed upon me, and I was filled with anxiety as to the course my cousin would next pursue with regard to myself. If we were in a foreign port, as was probably the case from the northerly direction I knew we had taken by the increasing coldness in the temperature, Captain Walton would fancy himself quite safe in sending me on shore and putting: me up at some hotel until he was ready to restore me to my friends. He would, probably, land me during the day, perhaps in an hour or less. I thought deeply, for whatever plan I decided upon, must be put in train without loss of time. Should my surmise prove the right one, that we were in some seaport town on the continent or north of Europe, the probability was that, at that season of the year, some stray Englishman, or party of my countrypeople, would be found idling away the time there. In that case, if I could place myself in communication with them, I would be sure of receiving immediate assistance and deliverance Finally I hit upon the following stratagem, which I proceeded at once to put in preparation. I resolved to write a brief account of my abduction, give my name, address and family connections, and urgently soliciting help without delay. There were no writing materials in the cabin ; but I recollected I had my tablets in the pocket of my dress when I left Oxford Terrace on that eventful morning, so searching my pocket, with some feeling of trepidation, I was overjoyed to find they had not been removed. I wrote my story briefly, concealed the tablets in my bosom and calmly awaited further action.

After the lapse of another half hour my female warder appeared and requested me to prepare to go ashore. I asked her where we were, and she replied, " Copenhagen, I believe, Miss." I was soon ready, and, accompanied by the woman, ascended to the deck, where I was met by a strange sea-faring man, who said he was to take me ashore, and he led me to the gangway and to the boat alongside. On our arrival at the landing place I looked around me, eagerly scanning the

faces of the crowd for the sight of a trusty English face, and the sound of an English voice. A vehicle was in waiting for us, and conveyed us through a fine street to the entrance of a large handsome building, which

[ know to bo an hotel. Here vvo ilighted, and I was told to follow the woman, who would place me in apartments already engaged for us. Still looking anxiously around me I noticed in the vestibule two tall aristocratic gentlemen, who were

leisurely regarding our arrival. I saw at once that they were English, and my heart beat rapidly, whilst

I put my hand to the bosom of dress. I drew, as it were inadvertently, as close to them as I could, and in doing so I head one say to the other " A deuced pretty girl, Eumbold, but scant of luggage." I immediately drew out my tablets and pressed them into the hands of the one addressed as Eumbold, who, though filled with amazement at the action, held them without betraying a sign. I thought ha read the beseeching look in my eyes. At the same time, my arm was seized by my attendant, who said "Come along, Miss." As we ascended the stairs I had the satisfaction of seeing the gentlemen moving towards the office as though to make enquiries. Oh ! how thankful I was at the success of my ruse ! I new my deliverance was now near, and I thanked God in silence for His aid. Most anxiously did I listen for coming footsteps. I had been shown to a sitting-room communicating with a bedroom. The woman left me to myself, but as she retired I heard her lock the door on the outside. However, I felt elated, and proceeded to refresh myself' and arrange my toilet.

An hour passed, then I heard voices and the heavy footsteps of men at the door. The key was turned and my cousin entered followed by the two English gentlemen and a sweet faced English lady. My cousin's features seemed agitated and cowed - looking. " Nellie," he whispered in my ear " You are too clever for me. But I have not lost yet." Capt. Walton then presented the others to me as Major Norman and Sir Oharles and Lady Eumbold. Sir Charles said he had read my story and had at once sought out Capt, Walton for an explanation and demanded an interview with me. He said he admired my courage, and would place me under the care of his wife. His own yacht was in the harbour, and would return at once to England to restore me to my friends. Lady Rumbold embraced me and and gave me her loving sympathies, and we then withdrew to her apartments, rny heart overflowing with gratitude.

The next day we sailed on our homeward voyage. In a few days we landed at Greenwich, and Sir Charles and myself lost no time in repairing to Oxford Terrace, where the first person I saw on the doorstep, were my good M. Dubois and kind Mr Burns. I will now leave the former to tell the rest of my story.

CHAPTER XI

In obedience to the request of that

charming young lady who has reported the previous history of the old house in Oxford Terrace, I take the pen to add a chapter. When I returned home on the afternoon of that Saturday of evil omen, on which she had been enticed away, I was met by tho respectable Mrs Wilson, who told me, with great anxiety, that her young mistress had gone out in the morning and had not yet returned. I opened the hitter with which she presented me and read its wicked contents. I understood at once that her enemies had got possession of her. I was amazed that a young lady of Miss Dalton's intelligence should have fallen into so palpable a trap. But was no time to indulge in reflections. I called a cab and drove instantly to the office of my friend Burns, who, by good fortune, I found there, though it was Saturday afternoon. At my request he entered the cab, and I explained to him en route what had occurred. We descended nwar Amherst-street, and went to No. 17. Burns asked for Mrs Bowman. She had left that morning, with the lady whom she was nursing. On putting further questions, we were told that the lady and Mrs Bowman had been there four days; that the doctor had ordered the lady to go abroad, and had come himself and superintended her removal. Nothing was known of any young lady hnving been to see Mrs Bowman. The doctor's name was Williams— he was a tall man, with a grey beard. They did not know where he lived. They had not seen the invalid except when she was carried in or carried out. All this was very unsatisfactory. The people appeared to be honest, but I thought it would be well to keep watch on them, and suggested to Mr Burns that tho worthy Mrs Wilson should be sent to take their lodgings, and should live them, observing them carefully for a little time. I had n special reason, which I concealpd from him for the proposal. To this we agreed, and she did so. We soon became convinced that these were indeed simple, honest people, who had no part in tho abduction of our dear miss.

I now understood the plot. It was ingenious. Tho invalid was, of course, a sham. Captain Walton, or, perhaps, the infamous Chappel, playedthe part of the cioctor, and somtfemale accomplice must have represented the nurse. They must have muffled up, or perhaps even stupefied their victim, and carried her out into a coach. We found the cab and the driver, and discovered that he had taken the persons to the steps of a Thames pier : and the sick lady, whom he believed to be insensible, was carried to a little boat, and her nurse told him she was to be put on board her husband's yacht and taken to

Italy. She was very much wrapped up, and he did not see her face. Here, then, the clue ended, for we could not discover the boat nor guess whether it had taken its passenger. I made inquiries after Captain Walton, and found that he was out of town.

So fixed were the Britannic prejudices of my worthy friend Burns that even after this he still maintained the police guiltless of the outrage, and the evidence of Captain Walton's complicity doubtful. " I even wish," said he, " that I could feel sure that Miss Dalton was in no worse hands than her cousin's. I warned her, after that explosion at Paddington, 'to be very careful lest she should be exposed to the revenge of a desperate gang." " A desperate gang !" The blindness of this poor Burns was laughable. It was not to him that I could confide my own little scheme. I did confide to him, however, my desire to conceal from the young artist this new and heaviest trouble ; and he, agreeing, undertook to make him believe that hisfiancee was forbidden by the authorities to see or write to him. Eut I, Dubois, who had had a hand in so many desperate affairs, and brought out my life from so many dangerous places, was I to sit down quietly and see two innocent voung people crushed by the alliance of a vile ai'istocracy and a corrupt officialism 1 No; I had a better hope than that. Captain Walton was out of my reach. I expected, too, from what I had heard of him and from what I knew of his relatives, that he was a man of courage. But this Jackson the creeping reptile whom I regretted that I had omitted to strangle when I found him playing the spy in the studio—he was within reach. He still kept on his office, for his six months were not yet expired; and his red-haired clerk still sat and spied upon us in his absence. I called to my assistance an old comrade of mine, Louis Laboulaye. To no other living person did I breathe a word. At one o'clock the clerk went to his dinner. Chappel was now alone. I sent out Sally on an errand, and Mrs Wilson had the day before gone to Amherststreet. There was no other person in the house. I took a loaded revolver, and we descended silently to the door of Chappel's office, and suddenly presented ourselves before him. I instantly directed my revolver towards him, and warned him that if he uttered a sound or made a motion he would receive its contents on the spot. The wretched creature shook and trembled and shrank together, but dared neither speak nor stir. Then at my com-

mand he wrote on a sheet of paper— "Called away suddenly. May be away two or three days." Laboulaye then took him by the hand and said, " Gome." He made a faint motion of resistance, but glanced at the pistol and obeyed like a slave. We led him upstairs to the empty studio, which we had prepared for his reception by securely nailing up the skylight and windows. " Here, sir," said I, "we know that you have a taste for this apartment. You will remain here until Mr Walton is set free and Miss Dalton restored to her friends."

He protested vehemently that he knew nothing of Miss Dalton, and that we should have to answer to the law for detaining him—a threat which did not in the least discompose us. We locked him in and left him. Laboulaye went quietly home to his family, and I returned to my little sitting-room.

I had made all my calculations in choosing the studio. The room immediately below me was Miss Dalton's, in which no one now slept. On the same floor with it were Walton's room and Ohappel's own, now both empty, and mine. No one was likely to come into two of these, and I took care that Sally did not stay long in mine. The good Mrs Wilson, from whom it would have been difficult to keep the secret, was, as 1 have said, established in Amherststreet. I had only to prevent the discoveries of Sally, and this was not difficult. As to the studio itself,the windows were closely shuttered, and we had left nothing in the room by which the inmate could mount to the skylight. It was an excellent and commodious prison, and I felt in myself every disposition to play the part of Mr Chappel's gaoler. I never visited him without my pistol. I took him every morning his food for the day, and the day's newspaper ; for I perceived this tormented ■ him more effectually than any words of mine, since he could not disbelieve what he found there. He was thus able day by day to read the most unflattering reports concerniug himself. His disappearance was much talked of ; there were many conjectures about it, but it was the

favourite theory that he had taken flight in terror of facing a crossexamination. Stories of his previous life came to light; they were without exception discreditable, and some of them were doubtless true.

It became quite clear that when lie reappeared he would be a witness of no very true worthy sort. Here at least something was gained for Walton. He further learned that two or three discrepancies had been discovered in the papers written in cypher, which had been found (and no doubt hidden) in the studio. If once those papers were proved forgeries, what would become of Mr

Chappel ? I think he was almost as wretched as he deserved to be.

At last, drop by drop, his confession was wrung out of him, and he declared that he had been led away by others ; that he had wanted money, and Captain Walton had tempted him with a bribe too great to be resisted.

First of all he averred that Captain Walton employed him to find and steal his cousin's papers.

"But Turner took them, as you know very well, M. Dubois, and I can't get them back. But I'll go into the box if you like and swear that he set me on."

Your oath is not worth anything now," I replied. "We must have proofs and a written confession in detail as well."

" I'll write down that and prove t," he declared, eagerly.

" That, and a great deal more," said I, calmly, and went away.

Next day I perceived that he was burning to tell me more. I professed to be in a great hurry, and did not stay two minutes.

The day after I asked him, "Well, Mr Chappel, have you written that confession yet ?"

No, I have not written it, M. Dubois. There is another little matter or two."

" Yes," said I, " there is the little matter of the explosion."

" But I know nothing about the explosion, M. Dubois." " Oh, yes, you do, my friend. Refresh your memory a little. You know all about those two gentlemen who were going to make themselves work out of it for the next twelvemonth."

lie fairly gasped, and sat down, | suddenly and heavily, staring at me. " I am not in haste," said I, cheerfully, " you can take your own time." And with that I went away, and returned 110 more that day. When I went in next morning, lie began at once, "M. Dubois, it was not I that took any part in that explosion." " I know that," said I. " I never suspected you of courage enough to risk, first the detection in aking the boat, and then your life twice over, once in the explosion and once in the discovery, But it was a part of the mock conspiracy which you were getting up and meaning to profit by." " Mock conspiracy ! " cried he. But as he saw me laughing he changed his tone and demanded vehemently who had betrayed him. " I imagine you can guess that, said I. '• It is Goldschmit; I know it is Goldschmidt. I ought to have known better than to trust a Jew, and a German Jew, too."

There I agreed with him. I remained silent, however, and was inwardly much pleased that he had taken it thus; for, as you know, I had really no actual knowledge at all. Then he owned that he had been engaged in hatching a conspiracy, by the discovery of which he and his confederates—the man Meyer and another—hoped to obtain rewards and perhaps employment from the authorities. I was delighted to find my own words to Miss Dalton thus confirmed ; for if these men were not literally a part of the police, at least they were the material of which a policeman is made. He went on to say that he had offered to Captain Walton to entangle his cousin in this affair, and get him convicted of a crime which would render him incapable of taking a title. And Captain Walton, who is not a man to stick at anything, agreed at the first word.

"All this I must have written down," said T, "signed and witnessed, And I must know where the papers and jewels are, and where Mis Dalton is."

" But I can't tell you, M. Dubois." he answered, wringing his hands, " upon my word I can't; not if you were to torture me. Do you suppose Captain Walton trusts me or any man whose help he doesn't want ?"

" Well, there are pens and ink," said I, " you can write at your leisure." And so I left him alone once more. This sort of thing took time. I had my bird in his cage a fortnight before I got his written declaration, signed with his name, and witnessed by myself and Laboulaye.

But I did not yet let him go. It was resolved to keep him until Miss Dalton should reappear. His spirits, such as they were, were completely cowed by his fortnight's captivity, although for a prisoner lie had lodged and fared sumptuously. I was almost ashamed to keep so faint-hearted a fellow, and was obliged from time to time to harden my heart by remembering that he had been willing to consign Walton to a prison for life.

Walton was now committed for trial; but bail was not allowed him. He bore his position with calmness and dignity ; he had, indeed, an admirable temper of the English sort, this young man, a little phlegmatic but courageous. He looked, however, pale and fatigued, and complained with some agitation in spite of his Britannic coldness, that it should be forbidden to him to see Mrs Dal ton, Burns and I, one afternoon when he thus complained, gave him hopes that the accusation against him would shrivel away, and he would be acquitted as soon as the trial came on. On Burns' part I fear these were but the empty words with which a man tries to appease his own compassion, but I meant what I said most sincerely.

As we came away together, Burns began to remind me that it was now three weeks since our clear Miss Dalton had vanished. Even I could not but bo somewhat affected by his fears. I thought of Meyer and his helper. If they had been permitted by Captain Walton to have a hand in this outrage it was likely enough that they would go to the extreme, and of what avail in that case would be Avealth and title and honour to the poor lad whom we had just quitted. It even crossed my mind that Captain Walton might have a diabolical hope of preventing James from marrying and leaving a son to succeed him. We reached the house in Oxford-terracs just as this thought was passing through my head.

" I will not come in," said Burns, and we had just taken each other's hands to say farewell, when our names were called loudly from a cab that was driving along the streetIts pace was slackened, and in another moment Miss Dal ton sprang out, followed more slowly by a tall and stout Englishman.

There is not much to add to M. Dubois narrative. I went up with him at once to the studio, and we set the unhappy Mr Chappel free. Nfxt morning I took his confession and put it into the hands of Mr Burns, before whom I at the same time made a statutory declaration of the contents of the packet stolen by my cousin, so that, in case I again disappeared, my evidence should at least remain on record. I found, however, that, the indefatigable M. Dubois had in the meantime secured fresh copies of nearly all the certificates of births, deaths, and marriages of James's relations, and hunted up one or two additional bits of corroborative evidence, so that even if the packet should never come to light, James would in all probability be able to prove his title.

Mr Burns then accompanied me to the prison where James was detained. It was not the proper hour, and I had no permission ; but Mr Burns represented to the authorities the peculiar circumstances of the case, and I was allowed to see him. Of that meeting you will hardly, 1 think, expect me to speak.

The strong light of publicity cast on Mr ChappeFs previous career had destroyed his hopes of gaining anything either from the discovery of his supposed conspiracy or from my cousin. He had, I think, intended on regaining his freedom to slip quietly out of sight, but in this, also, he was disappointed. The intelligent Mr Meyer, perceiving his partner's fortunes to be on the decline, took the opportunity of as-

sisting his descent, and carried various pieces of information to the police. Mr Cliappel no sooner emerged from his seclusion than he found himself charged with conspiracy. My unhappy cousin, who, to do him justice, would never have betrayed himself or them, was spared the shame of public trial. On the third day after my arrival in London he came to Oxford-terrace and boldly sent in his name, with an urgent request that I would see him. I did so. He made no attempt at apology or explanation. He merely offered me a packet, saying— •' There are tilings here which [ you will know how to give to the proper owner. There are a fesv words for you, too. I'll ask you to open them to-morrow morning.

I took the parcel silently.

Then he said, " You have ruined my life for me, Nelly. If a woman of your sort had cared for me instead of him, I should not stand where I do to-night."'

I could not say a word. " Good.bye," said he, and held out his hand. I gave him mine.

" What are you going to do ? " said I. " There's no reason for you to say ' good-bye' in that solemn sort of way. You did wrong once, but you did not carry it out, and you have thought better of it."

" I have not thought better of it. I heave failed, that's all; and you have conquered me. It is some comfort to think that it is one of ray own blood that has beaten me. But I know when I'm beaten; and so good-bye once more;"

I said " good-bye " with a vague feeling of alarm. A loud report was heard that evening in his room, and two or three men hurrying in were in time to find him dying, and to be told that the gun ho was cleaning had exploded. He died with calmness and courage, without a word of repentance, a bravo and resolute man, who might have been a hero, aud was but a baffled criminal driven to suicide at thirty. The packet he had given mo contained James's papers and diamonds, and those few words to me:—" Nellie, my father aud mother knew nothing of James Walton's claim nor of my dealings with him or you. For their sake— not mine—l ask you to keep them

in ignorance."

Tho coroner's jury, who knew nothing of this note or of his visit, found a verdict of "Accidental death," and he was buried among his kindred at Forest Lodge. James, whom he had wronged so cruelly, spared no effort to shield his memory, and few people, I think, have any suspicion of his true history. As for mo, I found it impossible, when I romembored that downcast face of his as I saw it in the firelight that night, with tho look of a huuted animal on it, to keep up my resentments, just though they were. Lord Clavering was very much broken down by the death of his son, though he lias remained to this day ignorant of the terrible circumstances of that de.ith. James went to see him, laid before him the proofs of his claim, and offered to leave him in undisturbed possession during his life, he himself receiving only a small yearly income. Lord Clavering, struck by tho likeness of featuro as well as name between tho living and the dead James, took a great fancy to his young cousin. My aunt, I think, scarcely shared her husband's feeling ; but at least she found a satisfaction, since she had no unmarried daughters of her own, in the fact that James was to marry me ; and in course of time has almost come to believe that the marriage was of her own making. As for the old house in Oxford, I made it over to Lizzie bv a deed of gift on the day when I was married. M. Dubois, who finds himself in the awkward position, for a Republican of his stamp, of having a Baronpresumptive for his intimate friend, still lodges with her ; so do Miss Smith and Miss Burton; while Franz Heller occupies the studio, and complains of the fogs precisely as James used to do. James himself paints in the best room of our little house at Hampstead and shows no undue haste to exchange that modest abode for the stateliness of Forest Lodge. We go and stay there from time to time, and we'are treated as children of the house. My young cousin Edmund never having thought of himself as the heir, feels no disappointment, and his father knows that James may be trusted to act tho part of a good elder brother. As for James —but I will stop short and not begin to sing my husband's praises.