In The Flashlight

Waikato Times, Volume 98, Issue 16152, 29 November 1924, Page 12 (Supplement)

In The Flashlight

THE STORYTELLER

(Copyright). PnMlshwl by arrangement with The Ger eral Press, Ltd

By Bernard rowthoKne Author of "The Jewels of Sin,’’ "The Shadow of the Yemen," etc., etc.

CHAPTER XVII. John Garstoh went but a little way from the scene of his crime when he was assailed; by tormenting thoughts. What he had overheard told him that the person who had first arrived at the place, and had struck {he matoh, muSt have been surprised by others wlio, finding hEfa by the dead Lisa, had Jumped to the conclusion that the man was the’ murderer. That fact troubled him hot at all, hut he was tormented by the thought of that ihexftffoable light Which had blazed so brightly if so Briefly, as' the dead woman had slid from his hands. "in heaven’s name what

and cautiously through the under gfofcth.

His hoarse whisper broke off suddenly, and. his; blood chilled to the heart, as the explanation leaped into his mind. , . . ,

- "A flashlight! by-——” A stiver followed the . chill, and his skin freckled ,to "goose-flesh” as the words leapt from fiim; and for a moment he stood quite Still, suffering that utter torment of fear which assails the nniri, who, guilty of terrible orime, knows that discovery of his guilt hangs in the balance. But what was a flash-light doing there in that wood?"

I A new possibility leaped into hi# mind. What if he had made a mistake ? What if the .woman whom he believed himself to have strangled had revived? It \vas not a remote possibility. He had seen a katflr hanged and apparently dead, alter being out down, revive, What if Lisa ” Ilia thought got no further. An unexpected sough of wind set the tree tops rustling, drowning the sounds of movement; then, as the whisper of the leaves died away, the cautious steps Sounded again quite close to him - He had scarcely time to realise- the fact, had no tlrrie to move, when a hand touched him. It startled him horribly, and a frightened oath slipped from his lips. The next moment the scream ,of a man in a very extremity of terror broke on the silence, and someone slipped By him in the utter gloom and, running like the wind, disappeared In ttio darkness.

The silent question brought him no consolation, no sense of relief. He had recently read a book by a famous naturalist, dealing with the Canadian Beaver, and the book had been illustrated by unique photographs of those shy ecratures, photographs taken at night, the beavers, by simple mechaniean means, having been made to fire the flashlights and to photograph themselves. Not for a moment did he doubt that something akin to this waS the explanation of that otherwise inexplicable light. In the struggle, lie or his victim had touched something, thread or wife, tvhich Had fired the light, and——” Ilis heart gave a great- botirid of fear! The. camera I There must have been a camera, else why the flashlight, unless it was some new device of the keepers against poachers? He -stopped short in his flight and looked hack, appalled at the possibilities of the situation. it was in his mind to return and search the wood in the .vicinity of the crime; but the sound of voices came to him through the stflineks, and recognising that, even if he went back a minute seafcli would be impossible without a light, dhd Whilst other people were present; he continued on his wfiy. His heart caffied a bdrden of torturing anxiety, but his mind forked coolly, anti by the’ tiMis he had reached his hoine. he Had considered dll the possibilities of thd situation and rfiade his plans. Elitering bjs house, as if returning from a. stroll in the grounds, he drank a glass of old brandy, then lighting a cigar; he announced, that he was walking over to Mr Meiford’s place, and gave orders that the car was to fetch Hiin at eleven o’clock.

Garston was too startled to follow. Ruthless and hardened as he was, lie yet stood there shaken by' the fear that had surged within him; and when he realised what had happened, it Was too late to follow. . The . Sweat —a very heavy dew of terror —hung heavy upon his brow, and his hands were olammy with it. He felt fof his handkerchief and wiped his forehead, then he stared in the direction the fugitive had gone. .He could see nothing how, hear nothing; and again he turned towards the darkness of the Wood, where, as He divined, still lay the poor broken body blit of which he had choked the life. Blit his nerve failed him. He felt that noW he could not face that slient form alone! Re visioned it as he had seen it in the glare of the flashlight, huddled in a bush, the wide, open eyes, already dulled in death; and in spite of,his oallousness he shuddered. He realised that he could not enter the wood, save in company. With the passing of the sough of wind, the wood had become . unutterably still again. His imagination began to conjure up strange tilings, to make suggestions that shook him still further; and it seemed to him that the stillness was but the cloak of some horrific menace.

When lie left the house, He carried in the pocket of his light overcoat a powerful electric torch; and though at the commencement of his journey he was walking dUWn the drive, presently he diverged, and taking to tliii gfaSs, began to jvalk in the directidd of the wood where the trogedy had taken fdlitic. fie Was some little timd in reaching the outskirts of it; and before he did so voices reached hihi /firough the tjuiet tiight, bridging hiid ' to a halt. “I assure you, constable, you are Utterly mistakeh. Yoil don't know wife——”

“Saw you' with the W'.iman this afternoon an’ that be good enough for me. The sergeant won’t be along for a couple of hours yet, an’ somebody’s got to hike responsibility, so you’ll come along to Mr Melford’s, who is chairman of the Quarter Sessions, and if you get up to your murdering tricks I’ll brain you with my staff, so you’ve got fair warning.” “Matt, you’re a fool. While you’re taking me the real criminal will escape.”

Suddenly he readied the limit of endurance. He could stand no more, and over-whelmed by sudden panic he took to his heels, and ran i’rbm the wood toward the open park. He ran but a little way before his will asserted itself again and took oontrol; overcoming the Unreasoning panic that had sent him id headlong flight. But he felt that he cduld not return to the wood; nof did he try to force himself to do so. Instead he walked on considering a new line of aetlon. The constable, add Jordan, the keeper, were taking their prisoner to Meiford’s house; jvllere he himself had an appointment. He would go there as if nothing had happened; he would hear their 1 story; see their prisoner, and then returri with them to the scene of the crime. He would help them to lbok rbund for possible clues, and doing so would hunt for the camera that he suspected was somewhere close to where the flashlight had blazed. If he found it, it would be a comparatively easy matter to secure it: and destroying it to destroy any evidence as to the crime that it might otherwise furnish “Yes!” he muttered to himselfj “that’s the game to play." Then he stopped and stared into the darkness, “But in God’s name who was that whC fan, and what was he doing in the wood?”

‘“That he woii’tl Not while I have my hand on you—you ruffian. Keep a tight hold on that other arm, Jordan.” “That I will, constable.”

The voices drifted out of earshot, and standing where he was Carston carefully considered the situation. Evidently one of the two people whose voices had reached him was the village constable, whilst Jordan, as he khevVi was Melford's keeper. Plainly the tWo men Were convinced that they had the guilty man, and were more concerned with hiin than with the dead woman, and were intent on securing him before doing anything else. The question Was had they left anyone in the wood, to watch by the body? It was very possible that they had not, that the constable had decided that the body must remain where it was until his superior officer had seen it; and that the coast was clear for the search that ho wished to make. With this possibility in his mind he began to move forward, lie reached the outskirts of the wood, and in the shadow of the first trees, halted once again, and peered into the darkness. There was no gleam of light visible anywhere, and as he was perfectly certain that no villager would remain by a murdered body in such a place without a light, he felt that the opportunity he desired was granted him. He began to move forward again, and then checked suddenly, as from the .wood there came a rustling sound made by some moving body. Carston was not a superstitious man; but there are moments when the fear of intangible presences grips all men, and such a moment came to him then. He felt a surge of terror in hi 3 heart, due to some indefinable thing. It was only with a great effort that he was able to keep himself from running from that place of darkness and from that mysterious sound. Holding himself where he was by tremendous force of will, he listened, whilst he further considered the position. The rustling had ceased, and he was telling himself that some creature of the night, fox or weasel or bird had been responsible for it, when an owl hooted close as hand.

His mind could furnish no answer to the question, and the only consoling reflection that came to him was that ttie unknown man had been as badly scared as himself by the encounter. He might prove to be just a poacher, or, as a possible alternative, he might be someone left to keep watoh in the wood, who had grown afraid and deserted his post. Thinking these thoughts he arrived at Mr Melford’s house and was at once shown into the library, where he found Melford himself, with the constable and Jordan and their prisoner. Mr Melford Was obviously in an unhappy position; attd he hailed Carston’s advent with relief. “YouH’e in the nick of time, Carston.”

"Indeed I” exclaimed Carston, looking round with inquiring eyes. “Yes! You don’t know this gentleman perhaps, though you may have heard of him . He is Noel Mayhew, lately returned from Africa; and here are Jordan and the constable trying to persuade me that he has murdered some unknown woman in one of my woods. It must be a mistake. X know Noel and I am convinced that he is incapable of doing anything of the kind.” *

“We caught him in the act, or as good as,” said the keeper.

"Yes,” commented the constable, “and i demand a warrant for his arrest.”

“What do you think about it Carston? You’re a magistrate, and I’ll own I am sore perplexed. Carston scarcely glanced at the prisoner who, on the other hand, was subjecting him to an ardent scrutiny of which Carston was acutely aware.

“Seems to mo to bo pretty simple," said the millionaire, after a moment’s thought. “If a woman lias been murdered-. " “There’s no doubt about that,” snapped the constable. “I’ve seen her body, and so has Jordan.”

“Then if suspicion points to—er— Mr Mayhew, there is nothing for it but that he should be detained until the matter is examined more fully."

Unexpected and startling though the sound Was, it reassured him, fitting in as it did with the explanation bis mind had offered, and he was just nerving himself to move forward, when again the rustling sound reached him. This time he was convinced that, tlie explanation lie had found was inadequate. No small quadruped of the night, no prowling bird, hunting in darkness, could , account for that sound, which was made by some heavy body moving slowly

A troubled - ' look came on Mr Melford’s face as he looked at the prisoner. “I’m sorry, Noel,” he said, “but I’m afraid I’ve no option. I shall have to make out the warrant, but if you’ll give me your word not to attempt to escape, you can remain here until tiie sergeant shows up, and in the meantime I will try and get into telephonic communication with the County Chief Constable.” “I have not the sligiitest desire to escape Mr Melford,” answered Noel quietly. “You see I happen to bo quite innocent. I was walking along the road, lost in thought, when I heard a woman cry out in fear and saw a curious glare in the woods. I hadn’t the sligiitest notion what was happening, and was horrified when I found (he woman dead.”

“Well? you had heller keep your story, Noel, till you’ve seen your lawyer. I don't believe, you did Ibis tiling, and I'll take the responsibility

for ycta until we hear from the Chief.” Ho turAeid to the polloeman. "VoU Will ttave things to attend to I suppose you’ll have to get that poof woman’s body out of the wood, and you'll have to find things out about her.” “Yes, sir I But there are tilings known already. Jordan here says that she’s a woman who has been at the Mayhew’s Arms, and that her name was Mrs Noel Mayhew ” Mr Melford gave an exclamation of surprise, and looked quickly at the prisoner. “That is so,” answered Noel quietly. “I met her this afternoon and took her up to the Court to make sure of certain things. To the best of my belief I had never seen her ill my life before; but she had seen me once in Africa when I was lying ill, and had discovered then that I was hot the man who had married hor, though he bore or used my name.” "Then what was she doing here?” asked Mr Melford quickly.

“She was looking for her husband, and between her visit to' the Court this afternoon and dinner time, she found him.”

“Found him? Arb you stirel That is important.” / No one was looking at Carston, as this statement was made, and so the fear which shone in his eyes passed unnoticed; but the fear greto! more manifest as Noel replied.

“I was to have met her this evening =” “You were to have met her?” Mr Meiford’s suspicion was plain to everyone.

“Yes. I meant to bring her here in order to convince Margaret that I was not the dead woman’s husband; but when I was waiting for her 1 received a note from liar, sayibg that she had seen her husband and could not keep Her appointment with me.” “You have the note?" asked Mr Melford.

"Yes. i think so!” Me began to search in his pockets, and aftef a moment a worried look came on his face, which deepened as the search proceeded without result. At last he spoke. “I dm afraid I have ldst it,” he said, and tMen, as he saw the effect of His Words on the listeners, added: “But it was brought by hand from the Mayhew Arms, and it will.be easy to prove the note was despatched.” “But that will not show that the contents were what you say they were.” The speaker was Garston, and his tone was utterly hostile. “That is so,’* said Mr Melford, and it was clear from his tones, that he was wavering iii his belief in the young man’s innocence. “After that statement I shall take no responsibility 'in letting this gentlemen go out of the constable’s sight, Mr Melford. You can do what y<jii like, But the best cbiirse is to leave the man here in charge of the constable, whilst the keeper goes back to the dead woman. I am willing jo go with him, and if we take a car there wiil be no diflicuity in conveying her body to the vllage, That seems to me the safest way.” Mr Meiford’s face showed that he aiso was convinced of the wisdom of the suggested course. “Yes,” he answered; “that seems the y/isest thing to do.” “Then we’ll settle it that wayl I’ll go with the keeper, whilst you stop here with your prisoner, constable. Coine along.” And without further parley, Garston turned and led the way from the room, an exultant look upon his face as he realised that the opportunity he sought was now to be his.

CHAPTER XVIII. It was ah hour and a half later and Mr Melford waS walking to and fro in the hall, avValting the arrival of the County Constable, whilst the constable watched his prisoner in the library. The purr of an automobile sounded in the darkness, and he hurried to the door, just as the car stopped. But it was his daughter and hot the Chief Constable Whom the ear brought, aiid as he saw her, Mr Melford suddenly realised that he was confronted by a rather difficult task of explanation. The moment Margaret’s eyes alighted on him she knew that something had happened to disturb him profoundly and Immediately asked a question: “What is the matter, father? Something iias happened whilst I have Been a\vay?”

“Yes,” he answered Slowly,' “a good deal has happened. Come Into the dining room and i .will tell you,” Margaret hurried forward. “What is it?” she asked, taking his arm. "It is serious X can tell from your manner."

“Yes," he answered, “It is very serious; and I think you must prepare yourself for a shock, Margaret.”

“A shock!” “Yes. . . "Mr Melford paused, a little uncertain how to proceed. Then he said, “Noel Mayhew is in the library." “Noel ’’ A sudden light that Mr Melford did not understand leaped in Margaret’s eyes, and made him hurry on.

“Yes! He is in charge of the village constable, and is accused of a very grave crime.”

“Crime?” The girl’s face went white as chalk as she echoed the word, and her father began to wish that he had not been quite so precipitate. “Yes, crime, the very gravest crime in the calendar. I do not know how to tell you, but you must know of it sooner or later.” “What—what ”

“He is accused of mufdcring his wife. I am waiting for Mannington, the Chief Constable now, and

“He happened to drop In Just after Noel was brought here. He is a magistrate like myself and naturally, I consulted with him. He regards Noel’s story as a very unlikely one

“But it might just happen to be true I” said the girl quickly. “It might! But it is a very Inoredible story; and a jury would be hard to convince of its truth," “But it’s very incredibility is in its favour. It is for that very reason more likely to be true than false, for if he were guilty and if he were trying to hide the fact, he Wsuld at least have invented a plausible story.” Mr Melford was a little puzzled by liis daughter’s attitude. Since the day when the news of Noel May-

hew’s marriage ih Africa had reached her, Margaret fiad refused to have his name mentioned in her presence, and now, as it seemed to him, she was fighting for him; and refusing to believe evil of him.

“There is something in what you say, Margaret," he began, “but ” “There may be a very great deal,” interrupted tile girl, and then a look of sudden anguish came on her face. “Oh!” she whispeerd, “suppose that story of ids marriage WaS a lie? Suppose’ we have ail been mistaken in thinking that he —that lie—You say he was going to bring that Woman here to prove to me—” '“Yes!” "Where is he? in the library did you say?” “Margaret, what are you going to do?” asked her father, hurriedly. “I am going to see him; to speak

to him, to ask him something that I ought to have asked before.” Mr Melford Was greatly disturbed by what he saw id his daughter’s fade, ahd with the thought of her coming marriage ih mind add all that depended upon it, thought it was Wise to exercise his authority. “I am afraid you cannot do that, Margaret! You see Noel is a prisoner in charge of——”

“But I Will see Him/’ dried the girl, moving swiftly towards the library door. “No one shall prevent me. If I have done him ah injustice I will khoW—and may God forgive me." 1 She threw the door open and entered the room, Whilst her father followed helplessly, not knowing how to deal with the situation that had so unexpectedly arisen. Noel Mayhew was seated in a chair, a rather dejected look oh his fever-worn food; whilst the constable a little way off watohed him as a dog watches his bode. As she entered; the young man rose quickly to his feet, a light of expectation in his eyes, “Margaret. . »” he stammered, Margaret 1” “Noel;” she began, without preliminary. “You saw that woman this afternoon, after you saw me.” “Yes!” he answered simply, "I sent her to you! She—was ydur—yolir Wife?” “Before God —no I Neither she nor any other woman. Believe me, Margaret.” His eyes met hers unwaveringly in frank, appeal, and as she met their Steady gaze with her own searching stare, she read the truth in them. “I do believe you, Noel," she cried in angulkhed conviction. "1 am ashamed that Cver I believed otherwise. X can never hope for your forgiveness, but " “Margaret!" “One thing morel You have not seen that woman Blnoe?’' “Not; not till I found her dead.” “Thank Godi Oh; thank Godl" Then in the stress of her emotion she collapsed, and as Mr Melford ran forward and caught her in his arms, she fainted utterly, whilst the constable iooked from her to his prisoner with amazed eyes. (To be continued.)

“Who accuses him?” asked the girl, in a shaking voice. “The village constable and our keeper. They heard the woman cry out before she died, and they found him kneeling by her side, His story is that he also heard a woman cry out in fear, that he saw a bright fight in the wood, and ran to the place, only to find the woman lying there dead. He admits, however, that he had seen tiie woman before and that he took her up to the Court to make sure of certain things. Also he says that he was bringing the woman, here tonight to see you ” “To see me! Why?” “In order to convince you that he was not married to the woman.” “Ah!” The odd light that Mr Mnlford had observed in his daughter’s eyes showed a second time, and a curious doubting look came on her face. “But he did not bring her?” “No! 11 is story is that the woman failed to keep her appointment with him: and that she sent a note instead, saying that she had found her husband ’’ “Found him! Here?” “So it would seem, ir Noel Mayhow’s story is true, but unfortunately there is a doubt about 11. You see he had lost (lie note: and whilst it will bn easy to prove whether a note was received By him, as John Carslon pointed out. Hie question as lo Hie ennienfs of Ibe note will remain unsolved.” “What has John Carslon lo do Willi this?” The girl's tone was harsh, al most, hostile, and an uneasy look came on her father’s faco-