A COMPLEX CRIME

Waikato Times, Volume 98, Issue 15313, 14 August 1923, Page 3

A COMPLEX CRIME

(All Rights Reserved)

BY CECILE V. SAYER.

Author of “Kindred Souls,” “The Folly of Ludley Vere,” “Another Man’s . Shoes,” etc.

CHAPTER XXIX. DARRELL'S TERRIBLE REVENGE. The hands of my watch pointed to twenty minutes to three, w-hen we were startled by hearing a very loud sharp tap on the outside of the door. Although we had been expecting it, the unusual loudiness of it scared us beyond words. .“Who’s there?” asked Marion.

but I'll pay off a score against you before I go into the next world. Do you hear?"

He hurled the words at me, between sundry gasps for breath. “ I wish, before I die,” continued Darrell, in a sudden change of tone, “ to make my wife a parting gift. Miss Sylvester, will you be good enough to pass me that long, leather case which lies on my dressing table?” He made the request quite naturally, and I, never for one instant dreaming of his motive, did as he desired, and handed him the case in question. As he took it from my hand, there flashed across his face a look so terrible, so demoniacal, that I fairly gasped. And before I could realise what was happening, he had swiftly opened the case, and taken therefrom some T thing long and slender—something that glittered horribly in the semidarkened chamber. And then he leaned over the bedside and in one breathing space—ah, God! how can I relate, it—how describe the horror, the agony of that one brief second, in which that gleaming instrument flashed in mid-air and then—and then—it was buried in the breast of my friend.

“It is I, madame—Gustave,” was the reply, in quick, agitated tones. “Open the door, I pray you!” When the poor fugitive heard the much-feared voice, she cowered down on the floor; close to Marion. “They have found out that I am missing.” she said, in a trembling whisper. “Oh! for the love of heaven, don’t let them force me back to that cruel captivity!” ! “Come here —quickly!” I whispered, pulling her towards the bed. “Get in as you are," I added. As she obeyed, I pulled the curtains close, and the next instant Marion had opened the door.

Darrell’s valet stood there, pale and agitated. There was a look of real distress upon his countenance, and as he caught sight of his master’s wife he shuddered. “The master has met with a terrible mishap, madame.” he said, “and is asking for you. 1 managed to get him to liis room, but I warn you to prepare for the worst; I do not think it possible that he can survive his Injuries." I could tell by the tone of the man’s voice that he was as yet unaware that his own and his master’s villainies were unmasked. And 1 waited, anxiously, to see what Marion intended to do. At any other time she would have flown, at once, to her husband's side. But now, she hesitated, and turned to me, as though for inspiration.

There was a half-smothered cry, a heavy fall, and I, paralysed for the moment with terror, was the next bending over Marion’s prostrate body, while her life blood flowed in a cruel, crimson stain across l the polished floor, staining my hands, my dress, even my hair, as I leaned over her and wildly called upon her name. For a few seconds I was like a mad woman. I literally tore my clothes to pieces and vainly endeavoured to stop the flow of blood which oozed from that dreadful wound in her breast. Then, with a mighty effort, I pulled my frenzied wits together, and, calling loudly for help, I rushed to the door Gustave was just without on the landing, and he came hurrying towards me, with a pained, anxious look upon his saturnine face. “What is it, Miss Sylvester? Is—is—it ail over? Is my master dead?” “He.—no; curse him!" I exclaimed, incoherently. “If you have a spark of manhood in you, you will curse him too, for, oh—how can I tell you? He —that devil —has slain his wife. In pity, man, go for a doctor at once. Something must be done. Do not stand gaping there; go—go!’ I almost screamed.

In that space I observed a change pass over the valet's face; and he looked askance, first at one and then at the other of us. My presence at the Manor, naturally, came as a surprise to him; but he made no remark.

“Will not madame hasten?” he grimly remarked. “You have not yet told me what really has happend to Mr Darrell,” she said. “To what sort of mishap do you allude?”

Gustave coughed slightly mefore replying, and then said, warily, “We were returning from the station — having come from town by the night mail—and just as we reached the Manor gates, some dark object sprang up in our path, and furiously attacked the master with a knife or dagger of some sort. Before I had time to realise what had happened, the miscreant had cleared off, and there was I, left alone with my master, either dead or dying, in my arms. However, I found that he still lived, and I carried him little by little, to the house. But we waste time talking here. You must hasten, madame, if you wish to see him alive!” “Why did you not come to the house for help at once, when you knew what had occurred?” queried Marion, coldly, as she prepared to follow the valet to her husbands’ room.

A dazed, bewildered look stole over the man’s face, and he said, “ Are you mad, or dreaming, Miss Sylvester? The master kill his wife—why, how could he ? He is dying himself. How could kill anyone else?” In a few disjointed sentences I told him how; it had occurred; and even he, callous villain as I knew him to be, was horrified and shocked.

“We had better send one of the other men for a doctor," he remarked.

“I may be of more service on the spot, for I have had a little surgical experience, and 1 may prove more useful than y-our distant doctor.” “If your knowledge can save Mrs Darrell’s life, I -will never forget it," I answered; and hastened to bid one of the other men fetch a doctor.The valet lifted Marion on to a coach, and partly succeeded in stopping the flow of blood from the wound; while for once his villainous master lay unheeded and untended a few paces away. Not for an instant could I trust myself to look towards the dying wretch who, heartless and bad to the very last, had, to gratify a paltry spite against me, revenged himself upon the sweet, noble woman who had adored him, because she was my friend, and because ’he knew that her death would be an everlasting grief to me. I sat by Marion's side while the weary moments ticked on, never taking my eyes from the beloved face; watching with breathless eagerness for even the faintest flicker of an eyelid that might warn me of some slight return to consciousness; for I ascertained by the feeble beat of her pulse that she yet breathed.

Some instinct prompted me to send for Sir Guy Ormond. And, acting on the impulse, I hastily scribbled a note to him, requesting his presence at Darkleigh. Now, whom could I get to deliver the message at such an hour? I had just decided to ask Vincent, the butler, to go, when there came another sharp tap at the door.

“It's ail right, Miss Sylvester,” said Gustave’s voice. “It is I; I wish to speak with you—the mistress has sent me.”

Crossing quickly to the bed, I whispered to Sybil to lock the door after me, and to open it to no one save Marion or myself. I then let myself out of the room. "Before I come with you,” I said to the valet; “I wish to speak to Vincent. He is down in the hall; for what purpose you probably know by this time.”

And as I thus watched, her slayer addressed me: “I .told you I’d make you repent of your interference, didn’t I? I loved that woman whom I have killed better than I ever dreamed I could love anything. For I hated, and do hate, the whole 'human race. Curse them! And yet I loved her! But for all that, her beautiful trust in, and love for me, have been powerless to change my nature for the better, and many a time I kept out of her way, out of her sight even, because I feared that tlie evil in me would assert itself and overcome my love. I only wonder I haven't killed her before. Her goodness has been a reproach to me—and yet I loved her. And I’m glad—glad she’ll die, because she can belong to no one else. And her death will make you suffer. The story you’ve heard is true —all .true. But you don’t know all yet. Gustave will tell- —a-a-a-ah ” He broke off, clutching wildly at his throat, and then fell back on the pillows. Gustave hastily crossed over to the bed and looked down at the distorted face.

He bowed his head. All the old Insolent manner seemed to have left him. •‘I will await your pleasure, mam’zelle,” he meekly replied. And I then cautiously descended the stairs, and made known my wishes to the butler. Vincent immediately went off to do my bidding, and I found Gustave awaiting me where I had left him. “I can find my way to your mistress,” I said, looking him straight in the face. “In the meanwhile, do you not think it would be as well if you set about to try and recapture your dangerous charge. You know whom I mean. And this is scarcely the time to play a game of pretences.”

“I know whom you mean,” well enough,” was the calm reply. “I heard the mistress taxing the master with what had occurred. And I may as well inform you now that it was that same creature of whom you speak who has done for my master. I know he’s booked. And, therefore, I don’t care who else the brute kills.”

"He is dead!” he said huskily. “Dead —and he is the victim of his own sin, and —mine.”

“You ought to be ashamed of yourself,” I burst out. “It strikes me that youll ’have much to answer for.” Sayvvhich, I passed him and made my way to Darrell’s room, the valet following me at a respectful distance.

I scarcely heeded what he was saying, for at that instant Marion slowly opened her eyes. For one brief space her glance rested upon me; her lips moved, as though to speak, but no sound came from them. A smile seemed te play upon her face and hover there. And then suddenly a white shadow crept up from chin to brow; the tender eyes grew set and staring; and then Marion fell back—dead. In a frenzy of grief I kissed her cold lips; then, heartbroken, my eyes blinded with tears, I groped my way across the room to the door. There anolher shock awaited me. for the landing was enveloped in a dense cloud of smoke, and I realised, with a new and sudden horror, that the house was on lire.

■ Harry Darrell was propped up in bed, and I could see at a glance that the dews of death were already gathering upon his brow. Ilis eyes were partly closed, but as I entered the room they opened wide, and there was an evil glitter in them as they rested upon my face. Marion, looking like a ghost, stood at the bedside, and she beckoned me thither. “ Mr —Mr —Darrell wishes to say a few words to you, Carmen,” she said ill a whisper. “ I have told him of the revelations that we have chanced upon, and—and—he denies none of them.” 1 silently squeezed her hand hy way of sympathy, and then turned rny attention to the man who had spoilt her life. “ What have you to say to me, Mr Darrell ?” 1 asked.

“ This!” lie replied, as fiercely a c his flying strength would allow. “ That I feel that it is you who have been instrumental in setting my wife against me—my wife, whom I have truly loved, and who truly loved me. You took an unwarrantable dislike to inc from the first. 1 know you did, and you have deliberately set to work to turn my wife's heart against me. 1 believe it is you, and you alone, who have poked about to sift, out my secret. But you shall see how much good it will do you. I know that i am dying,

(To ue continued to-morrow).