Serial Story. MURDER WILL OUT.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXIV, Issue XXIV, 16 June 1900, Page 1106

Serial Story. MURDER WILL OUT.

By

EDGAR PICKERING.

Author of “A Stout English Bowman,” “King for a Summer,” eta.

CHAPTER XXII. “Let us get the facts into line. Dick,” said Sylvester, and he and Mortimer sat side by side in the hall of the hotel. "Correct me where I miss a jxvint. Yon learn from the man. Marco, that Miss Selby, with an oldish woman, landed in .Meria from a disabled yacht. They went to Bastia. and thence to Marseilles, with a young woman named Teiesa Brasco, an untamed aborigine of Corsica. "Steady. Sylvester." interrupted Dick. "You may as well underst ind at once that Teresa Brasco is one of the very best. Well educated, refined in every way. and one of the braves’ girls—(lad! I haven’t the words to say all that 1 think of her courage ami devotion.” “Then we will go on. You are eprise with Teresa?” “I admire her and respect her in a way that you would hardly think possible. My feelings are profound gratitude and appreciation regarding her. If I fell in love again. I'd choose Teresa before any woman breathing. By .Tore! She's as beautiful as the Venus de Medici!” “Well. 1 should prefer someone more animated than a marble lady.” laughed Sylvester. “All your geese are swans. Diek. An old failing of yours to use the superlative in every “When one is talking to .< rank Philistine. superlatives are essentials,” retorteel Dick. “T ’ell van that Teresa is all and more than 1 have described her.” “1 defer to your opinion, but at the same time T retain my own.” wen’ on Sylvester. “ And now to resum", as ti e novelists have it. Miss Selby a id the others come on to Paris. You follow in mad haste, without finding them, and here that part of the case ends. Now for the other facts. Inn learn that the disabled yacht belongs to Dorman. Ergo. Dorman and Miss Selby were sailing in company. Don’t begin cursing yet. Dick. It interferes with my summing up. You further learn that the yacht arrived at Bastia, and that her owner, Dorman, is coming to Paris also.” “The scoundrel is here now!" exclaimed Dick. "1 know he is. I, fee’ his hateful presence in the very air.” "That’s undiluted spiritualism." answered Sylvester, “and perfectly unnecessary.’ It pays to keep your head, even at the most exciting moments. 1 always keep mine: it’s wonderful what you can do, if you're cool.” "Wait until you’re in love.” replied Dick, “and the woman who’s all the world to you needs your help.” "You're getting beyond me, there. Dick.” said the other, “but now that we’ve put the facts straight, we’ll decide on action.” "We’ll search Paris from end to eml." answered Dick. “Nothing easier than to do that." oltserved Sylvester, drily. “It will take a few years, but that’s a mere detail. No. Dick, our plain business is to return to England. Miss Selby will be home Ivefore we see London again, and there’s work for us to do. 1 hold a brief for you. Richard Mortimer. and I'll win the ease." And it was at this juncture that he unfolded the story of his search after the murderer of Squire Gifford. “I won't say whom I suspect." he added. “There have been too many wild suspicions already.” Mortimer received the news philosophically. “I can keep my head over this." he said, "ami we'll fathom the mystery later on. Dorman is playing a deep game, but he's owner of Whyteleas Manor, ami I've no means to fight him in the law courts. I’ve no case either, you know that.” “You haven't the shadow of a case." replied Sylvester. “But Seripp must be brought to account. I've already placet) all the facts at the disjsrsal of the proper authorities, ami our way lies to England."

"After I’ve found Madge,” retorted Mortimer. “She’s first now and for ever.” “Then may I be preserved from falling in love." ejaculated the other. “It’s fatal to common sense. Where are you going?” “I’m going to renew the search.” replied Dick doggedly. “I’m wasting time sitting here. I've been half over Paris, hoping I might chance on this woman Duval. That’s the name she gave at the hotel in Marseilles, but what her right name is. I don’t know.” Sylvester rose from his chair, and lighted a fresh cigar. “I’ll go with you. Dick.” he said. “It’s early yet. and who knows what’s in store for us?" So they went from, the hotel together, out into the light and gaiety of the Paris night. It was seven o clock that same evening. and Madame Duval sat alone in the great bare room, looking out into the road. She had had a violent scene with Teresa, and after this Mr Dorman had called, asking for Madge, who had refused to see him. Madame was perplexed, and had lost her temper twice that day. Why should she remain in that dismal house? Neither the ingrate Selby nor the traitress 1 eresa would leave it during her absence. and she resolved to revisit some of the joyous places, where years ago she and Henri had spent so many happy hours. Besides was there not occasion for her to go out? M hen Jarvis Dorman had come to the house in the Rue des Morts. Madame received him coldly. He had travelled quickly from Bastia. having luckily secured a passage in the mail boat to Marseilles, and his sharp glance showed that he noted a change in Madame’s manner. “Is it not time that we come to an agreement. M’sieur Dorman?” she asked, breaking the silence that had' followed a rapid conversation. “That we should understand each other?” “I understand you quite sufficiently." he answered irritably. “I see that all my plans have been disarranged by you. You promised to persuade this girl to listen to me; to use your best efforts on my behalf, and I know the result. I am tired of the game.” “And I also.” replied Madame. “1 shall be too glad to be released from this odious girl, your English miss who is a fool. There remains something more important to talk about, than of this useless attempt to force her to marry you. lam ready to complete my work.” "\es, I daresay you’re ready to poison her.” he answered. “But I’ve altered my mind. She can go back to her friends and say whatever she chooses of me: I can laugh at it all. Therefore Miss Selby is at liberty to go. and for you, Madame Duval or Board. I will pay you your wages ami say ’Adieu’ to you—you have failed.” Madame laughed.' “I will tell M’sieur a story I have heard.” she replied. “Then, if he wishes, he can bid me ‘Adieu.’ but it may mean much. It is not a long story." “I ain in no mood to hear it.” he answered, “and you are not very amusing at the best of times." “No.” she said with a glitter in her bright eyes. “I do not expect to amuse. >et it is a droll story; it has a strange end. M’sieur mav think it dramatic.” "1 have neither time nor patience to listen.” he replied rising from his “Then it must be told to others." retorted Madame. “To become more than not ’amusing.’ ft is the story of an Australian city. What name shall we call this city? Tell me, M’sieur." Dorman put his hands down on the table, and leaning forward he glared at her. “What devilry is this?" he demanded. "What do you know?" "No more than you yourself already know, replied Madame, returning his fixed look at her. "The story is told then," and she laughed.

“You beldame!” he hissed out between his teeth. “What do you mean?” “I am poor," she continued. “Poverty sharpens one's wits. One becomes audacious when one is in need. M’sieur shall buy this story, and it is so good that I ask a good price. Ten thousand francs." “Why should I give you four hundred pounds?” he asked, and Madame thought a moment before making a reply. "I do not know to whom you allude," he added. “Because Jean Kedar has been here,” she said at length. “In this room today.” and it was Dorman who hesitated to answer now. “I know nothing of Jean Kedar. whoever he may be.” he said presently, so quietly that Madame was almost deceived." And 1 am not accustomed to fling my money away. You must give me a better reason. Madame; I would have proofs of this story.” “Then I will tell you what followed my hearing it.” went on Madame, nodding her head jerkily. “Your secret is safe with me,” and she tapped her bosom. "You will buy my silence, and I shall never speak. But there is one who has heard all that .lea'll Kedar said: who listened, and knows your secret: who will denounce you. Teresa Brasco was in that room: it is her sleeping chamber: whilst M’sieur Kedar spoke she listened. Will you buy her silence, think you?" “Teresa Brasco!” he exclaimed. "The Corsican girl who eame with you from Bastia?” "Did I not tell you that the end of my story was dramatic? Mon Dieu! it is tragedyi!” and she watched the swift change in Dorman’s demeanour. It needed a great effort for him to recover his composure, and he walked to the door of the small room, glancing in at it. and the dismal view of roof and wall beyond. Then he came back and seated himself at the table again. “Let me quite understand.” he said. "You tell me that this person. Teresa. Brasco. overheard a lying tale and—” "M’sieur is so good a judge of a lying- tale.” laughed the other, interrupting him. "Does he doubt this one?” "Well, she overheard a story invented by this man Jean Kedar. whom I’ve never known or seen." continued Dorman. “That is so. Madame Duval?” "Perfectly.” “And 1 am to be denounced?” "Without doubt, but not yet. Even the imbecile Englishwoman will not know it yet. A Corsican can be cautious.” "Then I am safe for the present?” he answered with a jeering laugh. “When I am paid.” es. I will give you your price,” he replied angrily. "So the story is forgotten,” she cried gaily. “And 1 will meet you to-morrow,” he went on. "Not here. Name a place.” "Behind the glass.” laughed Madame, who dearly loved a joke. "M’sieur will know the Morgue of a truth," and he frowned. "Hardly the time for jesting, this.” he answered grimly. “I will meet yon nt Piatti’s. You know the restaurant.” “At three I will be there. Alone,” replied Madame, and Dorman strode out of the room, giving a backward glance at the little chamber with the dismal outlook. It was some time later, and from an up|>er window in the house Madge and Teresa watched Madame quit the Rue ties Morts.

‘W hat is to be the end of our stay in this dreadful place. I wonder.” said Madge despondingly. She and Teresa were speaking in French. "We can’t get to England without, money, and Madame thinks of remaining here. What shall we do?” “Be guided by me.” answered Teresa. “We will remain too. Have no fear of Celeste, nor of the man who has treated you so badly in taking you from your friends. You will soon see them again. I have shown Celeste (I know her best by that name) tha.t it is dangerous for her to keep you a prisoner. and that M’sieur Dorman-ves, I will tell you all that I know. It is a story almost past belief.” “Of Mr Dorman?” and at th s question I eresa made a gesture of assent. “< eleste threatened me.” she answered. "when she discovered that I had heard what was said in the room below, let I did not quite understand. I guessed much, and Celeste fears me. only know that there is a secret that uoiild destroy M. Dorman . It is somefhing that I canned understand. I wdl write to the English doctor. His "anie was often mentioned.” Madge. Ih ’’ Vortti,,,Pr? ’ Claimed Teresa nodded her head. “Yet perhaps it will be better for you to tell It'ui what I have heard.” she said. <lare not that.” replied Madge, lie are parted for ever." Do you not love him?" asked Teresa in surprise. "I love him more than I can tell you. but we shall never, never speak . * ach otJler again perhaps.” And your heart is breaking” ’I must not think of him.” and Madge turned away, not speaking again -.or some moments. "When wt are in England. Teresa” she said, at last. “I will tell you the reason Why Dr. Mortimer and I parted.” “But I shall not go to England with you replied Teresa. “I shall remain in lans where I can easily find employment. I shall always have you in my memory.” “But it is needful that you go with me answered Madge. “This story that you have heard must be known.” I will think,” said Teresa, and then J 'I 61 ? on to s P eak of all that Madge had gone through; and presently the shadows liegan to gather in the quiet street. It was depressing enough in every part of the house, and especially upstairs, so Madge suggested gomg down into the larger room 1 hey would at least lie nearer the world there than where they had been talking. It was not until a late hour that Madame Duval returned, and whatever annoy-ances she might have suffered that day had left no trace. She was good-natured again, and overflowing w'tn high spirits. She had been amid gaiety, she told them, where all was brightness and merriment. “So, different from your sad England. ' cried Madame, speaking partly in I reach, and partly in her broken English “Mon Dieu! Who would i'e i.i that land of fog? Remember, then. Saran. and the village once more, su foolish a chaile that you are, Mees Selby. I go not again to them.” and she snapped her fingers. “And what snail be said to you. Teresa?” “Is there anything more to sav Celeste?” asked Teresa. “Parbleu! But yes. You will return to Bastia. You will see Marco, Nasone, the Cure of Sainta Veronica’ Take a. message to them from me. Say that Celeste defies them. despises them, hates them. Ask Nasone of the the day when he found—Bah! 1 had my revenge. Was it not enough? And I will be revenged on you, Teresa I de not fear you,” answered I eresa. firmly, and at this Madame suddenly changed her tone and manner. bursting into a shrill laugh. “It is but my jest. Teresa mio. I only speak thus in my merriment. I like to see your solemn look when 1 pretend. Come. then. I will tell you of the pleasant hour that I have spent.” It was evident that Madame must have been enjoying an exceedingly pleasant hour, for her face was flushed. and her breath eame quickly, and

as she lay back on the rag-ged couch the light from the lamp on the ricketty table full on her face, she presented the embodiment of some evil spirit. “I have been to Mabille,” she told them, “and then to supper, where there was singing. Listen then to the song I heard,” and in her screeching voice Madame sang rhe verse of some song, which began “Pensez tourjours” —and had a refrain in the manner of a lullaby, which she gave, rocking herself to and fro. Then it was the recollection of the dancing place that returned. “I waltz to you,” she exclaimed, springing to her feet, taking her dress between her finger and thumb, as Madge remembered her doing in the cottage at Morton St. Jude. And humming the tune of a waltz, Madame began circling across the bare floor, now in the shadows of the cavernous room, and then back into the light, her eyes flashing, and her mudded thin boots pointed grotesquely. "Let us leave her,” whispered Madge to her companion. "But my bedroom is there,” answered Teresa, pointing to the little room, “and the door has no lock.” "Come upstairs with me, then,” said Madge. “Then you will be safe from her.” Madame suddenly stopped in her gyrations, and looked at them cunningly. “You whisper,” she exclaimed in a' threatening tone. "I suspect these who speak beneath their breath. Bah! I despise such,” and she shook her yellow hands at them, laughing shrilly. “But we will be merry in spite of you. Where is that villaine woman who buries herself?” And Madame gave a violent pull at the liell cord, that was so rotten that it broke, and came down in a dusty ceil over her shoulders. This amused Madame greatly. “I will arouse this creature,” she cried, and going unsteadily to the door, she went downstairs, Madge and Teresa listening as she stumbled, laughing and talking to herself, until the sound was muffled in the distance. “Now is our opportunity,” said Madge. “Let us get upstairs quickly, and lock ourselves in my room. She cannot break open the door,” and this thev did. staying only to hear Madame' return to the room below, closing the door after her with a elang, and then a profound quiet fell upon the dismal house Upon re-entering the room, the fact that her companions had gone from it caused Madame no more than an instant of surprise, and then it were as though she had forgotten their existeneef She had brought some wine and a cracked wine glass, which she placed on the table, turning up the lamp till the wick smoked, and sent out an unpleasant odour. Then she helped herself to the wine, drinking until the bottle was emptied, after which Madame yawned and shivered. The door of the little room stood open, and she went to it. “t will rest here.” she thought. “I am wearied to dentil.” and then she called out in a hnskv voice. “Teresa,” waiting for an answer. “Sapristi! she sleeps like the dead, laughed Madame. “Yes. sleep on. Teresa, whilst you may. I shall not awaken you: the bed is wide enough for two.' You will have a narrower one presently.” and she laughed again. \t thi= instant her foot caught against the leg of the rieketty table, which was suddenly overturned, with a crash of broken glass. The lamp rolled beneath the rotting couch and a flash of brightness shot no. as a piece of the frayed trimming burst into ji flame Madame, heedless of the accident. passed into the little room, and p-ofound quiet fell again over the house, as she lay beneath the casement in the outbuilt room. Such was the stillness within and without the ghost-ridden house that a little hissing sound seemed to disturb it fussily for a moment, but the sound had died awnv, and now over the yard and deserted workshop came a glow of blight light from the window of the big room. A sheen that lay along the roof of the shed shone so brightly that every part of the roof whs distinctly visible, ami something that had come creeping over the wall beyond. Something that moved stealthily towards the window lie neath which Madame slept in her deep slumber. Something that assumed the figure of a man. whose face was hidden bv a black wiap. and in whose hand was an axe. its broad steel glinting in the glare of the tire; that came nearer and nearer, indifferent to the grey smoke that was seething through the ill-fitting window, whence one of

the panes had fallen, the broken glass tinkling on the shed roof musically. Nearer and nearer, and he had pushed up the sash, pausing an instant as though listening. Then with a swift blow the axe descended upon the bared head of the sleeping woman, and a scream rings out on the silence, a scream so awful that the man staggered backward and would have fallen had not his grasp on the window frame been firm, whilst again the murderous weapon falls, and the screams have moaned to silence once more, as through the open window gush the wreathing smoke and tongues of fire. Silence save for the hissing of the flames; silence within the dismal house in the Rue des Morts, soon to be broken, however, by those who have seen the fire. But a silence never to be disturbed by Madame Ange Duval, who sleeps on and forever, with a crushed skull and bloodstained shroud. Fire! The cry has been raised and there are people running. Fire! Madge and Teresa, high up in that room in the burning house, hear the sound, and are at the window. Fire! It is upon them now in that thin line ot brightness beneath their chamber door, and in the breath they draw as the stand . awe-stricken, glancing downward into the thronging street that seems so far away. CHAPTER XXIII. When Sylvester and Mortimer had quitted the Hotel Maurice, there were two purposes in the mind of the latter, namely the finding of "Madge and the chastisement of Mr Jarvis Dorman. He did not pause to consider the difficulties before him. nor to allow Sylvester’s cooler judgment to influence his movments. Madge was somewhere in Paris, and must be found, he had replied, and so Sylvester. whilst he regretted the delay occasioned by remaining in the city, submitted to be guided by his friend. It was nearly midnight, and turning from a gaily-lit boulevard into a quieter street. Sylvester suggester getting back to their hotel. “It is not within the bounds of probability that we shall come across Mr Dorman tonight.” he said. “Who was it that said it was always the unexpected that happened?” asked Mortimer. “He was a. Frenchman. T think.” “That doesn’t exonerate him, in my opinion.” replied Sylvester. “ There s a great deal of harm clone by giving heed to these irresponsible epigrammatists. There isn’t such a thing as the. unexpected, when everything is possible, except the finding of Mr. Jarvis Dorman.” Dick demurred to this, and the two friends went along arm in arm. and a sudden rush of the. crowd almost tore them apart. "What’s the meaning of this. I wonder?” remarked Sylvester. in a- calm tone. “Big tire over there," replied Dick, pointing to the reddening sky. “Never saw French firemen at work,” continued Sylvester. “ They want Massey Shaw to show them how to put out a big blaze. By Jove! this is a big one by the look of it. Come on.” “ It will be a change, anyway,” answered Mortimer, from this endless marching of ours. Let us follow the crowd. Look out. Here come the Pompiers, as they're called, and the next moment they were riming with the throng in the direction of the Rue des Morts, reaching there breathlessly, amid the excited people who were being kept back by the gendarmes. The fire had got a good hold by this time, and as they came up to it, flames and smoke were pouring from the lower windows. In the lurid light everything could be seen clearly and as they stood watching a cry of dismay went up from the crowd. For at one of the topmost windows, two white-robed figures were standing in deadly peril. Thev were Madge and Teresa, who had been driven from their room by the heat and smoke, that was coming through the door. This had held long enough for them to arrange a plan of action, but it was one of the most, hopeless, des|M-rate ones ever conceived. Tlx- house was one of a row of seven, all equal in height, and Madge had proposed reaching the roof of these*. There were projections of stonework, and a water-pipe went past the window. There was a chance of reaching a place of safety, the certainty of death if they remained, and

so she had led the way out. of the window, clinging she knew not how to the narrow sill, with her feet supIsorted by a course of brickwork that was a short distance below. Teresa was Iteside her, and if they could reach the leaden pipe that came from the parapet of the house, they migli 4 Im* saved. .Mas! it was beyond their reach, stretch as they might, and pressing against the rough wall, holding by their numbing fingers to th** window sill, she and Teresa, their senses dulled by fear, hearing the shouts of the crowd and the dufl roar of the flames, waited for the awful fate in store for them. With a yelling cry Mortimer broke through the cordon of police, ami with him was Sylvester. Madge heard the shout and then all that followed seemed confusion and blind horror. But help was nearer to them than she knew, for Sylvester was ascending the ladder that had been brought from the yard of a neighbouring builder, and behind him was Dick, who had thrust aside a fussy little fireman and was half up the ladder before the Frenchman had recovered breath enough to swear with. Then Sylvester had caught the win-dow-sill. and Teresa was in Dick's strong arms for an instant, to be passed down to someone who was below him on the ladder, and after this Madge was being carried down. There were shouts and cheers from the onlookers. as Svlvester lowered himself

to the ladder, but he heeded them not (»ne whit, neither his scorched hands. He and Dick were only just in time, but Madge Selby had been saved, and the other woman -Sylvester had had her face against his own for a second or two, and he would never forget it, < ven if he lived to be u hundred. Then they were standing on the drenched roadway, and Dick's arm was around Madge/ “’rhe nearest hotel, Sylvester,” he said hoarsely “Get a cab," and he forced his way roughly through the crowd, leaving a path for Teresa and Sylvester. “Thank God we were in time," said Sylvester very fervently, and then in his matter-of-fact English he added, “Don't faint, please. So deuced awkward in a crowd, don’t y* know." receiving only a look in response, but it was a look that hr would have gone through the fin* itself to have won. It was a few hours later, and Sylvester. nursing his throbbing hand, stood looking down at Mortimer in the hotel to which Madge and Teresa had been taken after their rescue. Mortimer's face was troubled and sad. and for some moments he had been silent. “The fact is, Dick,” went on Sylvester. who had spoken last, “you won’t make allowances. Put it to yourself. Suppose you had been standing where Miss Selby and her friend were, with an awful death waiting for you? You wouldn't be in the humour to ask

questions, or to ehat over politics, immediately after you’d been rescued.” “But not a word at seeing me,” answered Diek. “Not a sign of pleasure at our meeting! What does it all mean?” . "It means that Miss Selby was so overwrought that she scarcely knew who you were or what had happened. Her friend now ” “That's Teresa.” said Dick. She behavcd splendidly.” "Mv dear fellow!” exclaimed Sylvester” “Now. is it needful to remind me of that? ‘Behaved splendidly’ doesn’t convev the truth about Miss Brasco entirely-. She is the most wonderful woman in the world. Why. she hadn’t lost her nerve, even though the fire was on her as you,may say. “You admire her then? “That’s not the question, replied Sylvester. “But if you want my honest opinion of Miss Brasco. 1 can sum it up in a word. She is a brick. “Take care.” “Certainly. I’m not the person who needs a warning of that sort, but at the same time, one must express their opinions. Now my honest opinion of Miss Brasco is ” ..... , “Yes. I quite understand, interrupted Diek. “And I’m glad there’s one man who’s satisfied with himself. I m not that one. To think, after we ve been parted all this time, how Madge has treated me! I can’t understand it. Am 1 to go away without seeing or speaking to her again?” -rd wait until to-mororw anyway, replied Sylvester, “before I did that. Besides, look at the situation. Now you’ve never viewed it in its proper light. I’ll swear. The primary object of our lives yours and mine, my dear Diek at the present moment, is elothDick gave him a puzzled look. “Clothing.” repeated the other. “It is clearly impossible to speak to or see either of the ladies under present conditions. and mv proposal is to call in the assistance of the landlady; give her carte blanche tobuy outfits for them.! understand that all their belongings have been burnt, and it’s our duty to provide* fresh ones.” Dick threw his purse on the table, and Sylvester summoned the landlady, explaining to her what was required, and she undertook with the greatest delight the duty of buying all that was necessary. Tn an hour or two she returned with a cab load of packages, which were taken to the room where Madge and Teresa had remained unseen by anyone but the sympathising landlady and the chambermaid. Unable to remain inactive Diek had gone wandering aimlessly through the streets. Sylvester preferring to stayin the hotel, he said; and when Madge and her companion emerged from their retirement, arrayed in the latest Paris fashions, they found him alone in the room. Teresa's hands were outstretched, and he took them in his with a shy manner, answering her heartfelt thanks wtihout his accustomed coolness. TTow beautiful she looked! How different from an ordinary woman’s were her smile and voice, and for a moment or two he forgot everything but these. Then he turned to Madge, asking the first question that occurred to him. which was a mere commonplace. They would dine together that evening, and settle what was best to be done, he told them. “You are anx’ous to return home, of course. Miss Selby.” he said. “And Teresa goes with me.” she answered. “Yes. I am most anxious, Mr Courtney, to get back to Marlhurst.” “Naturally. I wish Mortimer—” and then he stopped to change the conversation. “I’m thinking whether 1 ought not to speak to you privately. Miss Selby.” he went on. in a thinking tone. “It’s rather an important matter. you see.” "Teresa doesn't understand a word of English." replied Madge, “so we can talk quite privately before her. What is it?” "It’s about Mortimer.” he answered. "He'sN miserably unhappy. You're treating him badly. M'ss Selby." “No! no!" she cried, her eyes filling- with tears. "You wrong me. Mr Courtney. It is I who suffer most." "Thinking what you do." he continned, "that is only to be expected |H-rhaps. I’ve learnt your secret. Miss Selby, and I'm in a posit'on to stale that Dick Mortimer is still one of the most upright, honourable gentlemen in this world or any other, that he ami I are in a fair wav to solve the mystery of what happened at Whyteleas Manor, and that

he deserves all your love and help. If it s requisite that I say more. I will do so. but 1 ask you to believe that 1 am speaking the truth from my own knowledge, and that there is no hindrance to your marrying him. I’m afraid I’m saying this rather awkwardly, but 1 want to evade using words that I dislike. 1 am certain that you understand me.” Madge's hand was on his, anil a look of the supremest joy came into her eyes. “I do believe you,” she answered. “I can never, never forgive myself. It was that which parted us —that w-hich I feared. Tell me how I can undo the past.” Sylvester looked at his watch. “Diek said he would be here byseven,” he replied. “It wants ten minutes to the time. I suggest that M’ss Brasco and I leave you alone; we’ll go into the coffee room. A’ou see I'm hardly competent to advise what you ought to do, but I think I wouldn't attempt to explain anything to Dick. Let him guess, if he pleases, only he’s too chivalrous to do that. Try and believe that you’ve never been separated; that you’ve never been distant in your manner.” "Thank you." Madge almost whispered the words, and then Sylvester turned to Teresa, speaking in French, of which language he was not a master, for all that he could make himself fairly intelligible in it. He was apt to let his native tongue intrude itself into h’s sentences, and this amused Teresa vastly, as they left Madge alone. Sylvester heard Dick’s step pass the coffee room door, and enter the room they- had just quitted, and he strolled to the window. Teresa being beside him. “I hope we shall see something more of each other. Miss Brasco." he began, almost terrified at his own effrontery. "You’re going to England with Miss Selby. That’s rather jolly-, you know.” Teresa’s face was full of inquiring amusement. It made her more beautiful than she was before, thought Sylvester. Y'es this was the sort of woman with whom a man might fall in love—just as he had, in the' quickest. most delightful fashion possible; But the difficulties of making love in a foreign language rather troubled him. How- could he make her understand that he was ready to die for her sake, etc., etc? As though love needs any words in any language to discover itself! But this was Sylvester’s first and last experience of the tender passion, and he was naturally- somewhat diffident. Teresa was certainly the most beautiful woman he ever seen. Dick was perfectly correct in every-thing he had sajd about her, and if they had known each other a little longer, she—but why - should he wait? Hadn’t he waited until he was thirty, and never seen anyone he could love till now? Only to make love in a foreign tongue —well— they wouldn’t be parted anyway, and these thoughts were coursing through Sylvestei's mind as he and Teresa stood by the window. And in the other room Dick Mortimer had been repaid for all his misery. It was the same sweet Madge of old, who had thrown herself into his arms, when he entered the room, the same loving voice and happy look that he remembered so well. But t was a strange word she had uttered. What had he to forgive? “Never to lie parted again. Dick.” she whispered, as she clung to him. "Never, never again." "Darling." he answeted, kissing her tenderly-. “We’ll believe that we’ve never been separated. That’s the best thing to do. and though I’m a poor man. I’ve got a friend who’ll help to set me on my- feet. If you only knew how true and tried a friend Sylvester Courtney has been to me!" "Say to us, Diek,” replied Madge. "And I think I do know. Better than you know, perhaps.” Dick had given up his search for Jarvis Dorman, but he resolved to call him to account when they met again, as they must sooner or later. The Squire of Whyteleas was not a man who could efface himself like an ordinary person, and he would return to England in due course. The new Manor house was being built, and Mr Dorman took the greatest interest in the work, it was said, so Dick would bide his time. Madge had told him quite sufficient to make him resolute upon punishing Mr Dorman, but in

what way he was too happy at that moment to decide. Amid the ruins of the house in the Hue des Morts, the charred body of Madame Duval was found, and given burial. None will ever know, save her murderer, Jarvis Dorman, of the crime committed that night, nor the reason for the awful scream that had roused Madge from her sleep. He had meant to slay Teresa Brasco, who had discovered his secret, and as Teresa looks at Sylvester’s earnest face she little thinks how mercifully she had been preserved. For the four happy people are on their way home to England, and all the shadows have flown away. The future will be bright now that the last dark page has been turned. Yet there remained one other to be read, one which neither guessed at. and fraught with the greatest meaning of them all. To be concluded.