'The Moor End Mystery,'

Alexandra Herald and Central Otago Gazette, Issue 429, 11 August 1904, Page 6

'The Moor End Mystery,'

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CHAPTER 17.—'GO TO THE AN!.' (Miss Jemima Jenktns Narrative, condensed.)

Algernon Jenkin's is my nephew, my dear brother's only son} and if anybody has a right to speak I have, who bionght him up myself from the time his poor mother died, when he was only six years old. I can conscientiously say that I trained him np on Bound Christian principles; but he was always a good boy, and never gave me an hour's .anxiety untUthis unhappy contretemps occurred. From the time he was quite small he always used to say he would be a clergy. man, and he was eo clever I declared he would be a bishop some day. But now he says he must leave the Church simply because of the shocking falsehoods circulated by those wicked newspaper people about what they call his 'Mysterious Disappearance.' I feel it my duty to refute their calcmaiee, and I intend to do it, whatever anyone eays, The fifth of August is Algernon's birth-. day, and ever since he laft school He Has always come and spent that day with me. He is such a good boy. Ha is, as everyone knows, secosd curate of the parish of Moor End in Hertfordshire; and perhaps 1 ought to mention that 1 am a single gentlewoman, and that I live near Wealdstone. But in spite of the distance and his heavy duties my nephew never missed a birthday in my house. That year August the fifth fell on a Friday, and soon after hreakfast Algernon arrived. He was to preach on the following Sunday, and after luncheon he said he must write his sermon. The day was very sultry, aid he preferred to be out of doors, so 1 Bent him out into the shrubbery to a nice gTassy bank under the elmtrees. There he lay on the tcrf and worked. His sermon was on the text 'Go to the ant thou sluggard; consider her ways and be wise.' I nave the manuscript by me tow —each an excellent sermon, bo simple and yet so sound. It draws a beautiful picture of the life of the busy insects, and contrasts their happy hurry with the sluggish indifference of those who neglect their duty in parish and in home. It was a good sermon—but the boy was always clever. When he had finished he lay full length upon the grass and meditated. He must have lain there some time when he was roneed from a pious reverie by the whistle of a railway engine; and looking at his watch he found he had only Just time to catch lis train. -Hastily he gathered up his manussript and books, put them into the bag he carried, and came running in to me. He bade me an affectionate farewell, I handed aim his umbrella, which he had nearly forgotten, and I watched him hurry off down to the gate, little thinking what dreadful trouble he was hastening to meet.

He had to inn to catch the train, and was only jnat in time to jump into a second claas carriage as it started. He had the compartment to himself, which I have often enough thought was simply a special Providence. I am not quite sure when it was that his first feelings of uneasiness began, but I know that at first he attributed certain itching sensations to the great beat, until ne noticed an ant run across his sleeve. He brushed it eff, but a moment latex it was followed. by another and another. Even then he did not realise that anything was seriously wrong. But just after tne train left Qladesford station he was alarmed to sea quite a small procession of ants march across bis coat.

Thoroughly uneasy he jumped up, removed his coat and waistcoat, and shook them out, A shower cf insects scattered themselves over the floor and fled beneath the seats.

After turning his sleeves and pockets inside out, and beating them, Algernon felt reassured; and he tells me ho even laughed heartily at the adventure as ha settled himself back on the seat. Be thought it very amusing. He had literally * gone to the ant!'

He was still smiling over it all, when he bscime aware of a persistent tickling in hid left shoe. Qiickly removing both shoe and sock he emptied out a perfect ■ warm of ante; and while e till tapping tfie heel against the edge of the seat he felt a sudden prickling in Ma kit leg. V ;ry naetitj he seiaad the leg of his garments and shook it; bnt instead of the dearcd result be felt the —the symptoms pass rapidly upward. And then—— My poor nepnew has implored me not to relate ihe particulars cf what followed, and I know fee shrinks from motioning the matter himself] but tor that very reason I feel it my duty to do it for him eo that I may txphvu the painful sequel. I am aware that some very worthy yeraons may accuse me ot a lacr. of delicacy in alluding to the in:ident, but really, as I tola Aigernos, nobody in oar own circle weald ever do so, and it does net matter in tne least what other people may say. As 1 said, then—something Uuct my nepnew, and he jumped from his seat with a Bcream, 1 had the greatest ciiffi. ualty ia getting him to tell me about it, bat 1 belie ve ne compared the sensation to that ot sitting down suddenly upon a hedgehog, which I have no doubt must be highly uapleacant. My pcor nephew jumped op and danced round the carriage v try and shake the nasty little beasts down. But they would not go, and kept running up and down inside. It grew no intolerable at last that the boy got quite in a frerzy. He must have been driven reckless, as he never would have done «vhat he did. Tneru wub no one in the carnage, eo it did Lot u&Gter; besides, la t& w no otter of making the vindictive little things go away. So he tore off his garmanta, hong them out of the window, and napped. He hoped nobody would notice them waring over the line, and comforted himself by

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

,By Victor Waite, Author of ' Cross Trails/ &c, &c,

thinking that none of the other passengers could recognise his raiment, and that arriving at the station he would walk forth clad, and that nobody would guess that the unccckeiastical sight had to do wjth him. '

He was still mechanically shaking the nether gerinents when with' stunning suddeness an express train came roaring pier. Poor Algernon started back in alarm. His hold upon the things relaxed; a rush, of wind caught them, twisted them from "Eis lingers, and in a moment both train and trousers had whirled down the line and were gone. For a moment my nephew remtined at the window gszing after the retreating train; then he sank back on the seat aghteti He looked dowrr and then began to realise the full horror of the situation In three minutes the train would reach Moor End station where he was to get ont. What was he to doP What if somebody tried to get into the carriage P I really wonder he kept any calm reason at all j TJuTara matter of fact he showed to my thinking great presence of mind by pulling down all the blinds in/the hope that the blank windows might deter people from coming in. And there he sat in the stifling heat and semi-darkness, shaking as the train drew up at the station. You know, if only the Ifroy had thought of it he might have called the guard or a porter and have explained hie plight; and bo might have esoaped. Bat at the time he could think of nothing but the danger of : being discovered; and so remained behind, the blinds at Moor End station, starting at_ every passing footfall on the platform.

At length he heard the banging oE doors that betokened the departure of the train, and began to breathe more freely. And thea an awful thing happened. There came quick footsteps outside, and a rustle of skirts.

•Come, dear, we'll get into this one. I'm sure it's empty,' said a feminine voice.

And before poor Algenon could speak, the handle turned. He dashed at the door, seised the handle, and hung on. I tell it jast as he told me. • The horrid handle won't turn V cried the same voice pettishly. • Porter, this door won't open.' ' Quick, dear,' Baid a second voice 'We ehali miss it. Do get in 1' ' Porter!' called the other.

* Yes, miss!' came from the porter. The handle was wrenched round by a strong wrist. The door began to open. My nephew waß faint with fear. ' Keep them out!' he cried, as the porter tugged at the door.

' Open the door. Do he quick, pletße,' said the girl.

'Don't let them in!' shrieked my poor, distracted nephew, gathering the skirts ci Me" cofct about his extremities.

The door swung back. With admiral U promptitude Algernon c&nght up his umbrella, thrust it into the doorway, and opened it. The faces of the two young persons appeared over the top of it. He says they stared at him.

'Go away!' he cried, distractedly, quite forgetting himself in his alarm. 'l'm mad! Dangerous I' Poor boy, tie did not know what he was Baying. The two females screamed. With the strength of despair Algernon grasped the handle in both hands and slammed the door to. 'Now, then, miss..' In here quick!' saidthe porter, bundling the women into another compartment. There was a shout and a whistle, and the train moved on, Algernon dropped back on the scat utterly shocked at the narrowness of big escipe. I really cannot understand the conduct of those—ah—ladieß. Had th«y possessed any proper feeling they would nave realised that he wished to be alone, and would not have tried .to force tneir way into the carriage in that rade manner. The train had not quite passed the platform when my nephew suddenly recollected himself. Ha saw he ought to have called for help; and at onoe leaned out of the window and shouted and waved. He was too much beside himself to think whether buch demonstration a were altogether becoming in a clergyman. He palled at the alarm cord, he says, but to one heeded it, except the doctor of Moor End, who turned and looked. 'Doctor! Doctor!' my nephew called. The doctor only smiled—smiled in the most heartless way. He seemed actually to enjoy poor Algernon's distress} and I am sure is a most reprobate old man. Next moment the train hed swept out of the station and away. My nephew found himself in a very frying position. It was a shocking plight —especially for a clergyman. There was

no escape. Every moment was hi laying Lim on to the next station, .and-lb felt that nothing could.induce him.4»"-face another attempt to enter his compartment He thought ot ieaping from the carriage; and j ast at that mordent the brakes' began to j lit and jar, and the train slowed down quickly. At first he thought he had reached the station. A shadow fell across the blinds, and peeping cautiously out ha found that the train bad entered a tunnel or wide bridge, Here, he thought, was his ohance of escape. The speed seemed very low, and without a Becosd thought he caught up his umorella, and the shoe and sock wnich lay on the floor, and forgetting his bag is his haste stepped on to the footboard and sprang off. It was a meet dangerous thing to do, of couisa; but Algernon is eo venturesome. B .t-iiitß, he teila me he did not know it was bo d lii.u.L to gat iff a train in motion, and sijj it hurt a good deal, He lost his tooting on the stones of the line, tripped over a sleeper, and rolled into an unpleasant wet ditch agaiaet the wall of the tunnel.

It wib only when he saw the hind

buffet* of the train disappearing in the distance that he understood he htd made a grave mistake. Poor boy, he had not had time to think really, or he would have seen that he was safer behind the window blinds, where he might have obUined clothing from some kindly railway official at the next station, Bat he was too much upset to reason, and for that I blame those forward girls and that wicked : old doctor, who ought to have stopped the j train, of course.

My nephew sat down disconsolately in the tunnel and was beginning to pnt on his shoe when a passenger train came down upon him. He knew, of course, how uneafe it was to meet a train in a tunnel, because of iron bars and things that stick out and cut off jour head; besides, those stokers aid enginemen often t quirt scalding water on people as they pass, so he jumped np and ran ont of the tunnel. But when he got into the open sunlight it suddenly occurred to him that the passengers would sas him. There waß no tree or bush to hide him so he opened his umbrella, and crouched behind it while the of carriages slid by. The pepliin that train behaved exceedingly biaiy in my opinion. They stared and laughed at poor Algernon in the most offensive waj; and some even put their heads cut of the windows and Baid impertinent things. It was most unpleasant; and whilst he was sitting there looking up at the pasting faces, a horrid ejpress train came thundering down from the opposite direction. My nephew forgot the staring passengers, jumped up, and slipping on a pebble, went backwards down the steep embankment. He rolled over and over until he fouud himself lying against a thorn hedge at the bottom in a bed of very active nettles, All this was bad enough, yet was not the worst of it; but really I don't feel equal to telling what happened next. Algernon shall do that himself. He really must overcome bis foolish Ecnsifivrs).; I shall insist on his telling all thst occurred. It is for the boy's own good.

CHAPTER V.—THE MEETING IN THE

DESERTED HOUSE. (Narrative of the Reverend Algernon Jenkins)

My Aunt Jemima i 8 the only person who understands or who ever manifested asy ieal sympathy with me in all my misfortunes. Even the Vicar is indifferent and almost incredulous, Tlie others Eeem to think the whole matter rather entertaining ; and seme see fit to jest over it at my pxpeuse, as if I had done it all on purpose for their diversion The papers are merely vulgar. My aunt insists—or I should net refer to my misadventures, which are to me exceedingly painful memories I almrst wish she h*d let it r.lone; but it must be done I suppose. To continue: I w*b Bitting at the foot of that railway embankment feeling bewildered by my fall when suddenly a voice broke in upon my unhappy reflections. • Well, I'm blimed !' it said, coarsely. I Btarted, and looking up found a rather dirty face peering at me over the hedge. I grabbed my umbrella which lay near, and took Bhelter behind it from the stare of the owner of the face. He was not a disreputable looking peiß'-n, but as I now Buspect vai a tramp < f the worst kind.

' Good day, gov'nor,' he Baid, grinning as he looked down at my denuded condition, "liking the hair P Warm weather, ain't jt P'

*Go away!' I said. ' I wish to be alone.'i

'All right, gov'nor, no effence,' he replied. ' Ton ain't got a chew o' baccy on ye, 'ave you ?' A sudden inspiration came to me. •My good nun,' I said politely, 'cm you lend me a pair of trousers P' • Trowsia P' he repeat; d, ' No. Where's your own P Ain't yer got none P' • No. I have m6t with an unfortunate accident and lest mine.'

He looked at me suspiciously. •Wots yer little game t he asked rudely.

• I wish to procure a pair of trousers,' said I,' and will give you five shillings for the loan of yours.'

He looked yet more dubiously upon mi. ' You ain't goin' to 'ave the loan of my trowsis, Hor o' me neither,' he said in the most insolent manser.

• Bat I will pa/ for then*,' I protested. .' I'll give you ten sbilling.' His face relaxed slightly. ' Show ns the colour o' yonr money and I'll see,' he growled.

I dived ray right hand downward, forgetting that there was no pocket there. My money was gone with my lost raiment. * I am afraid—that is, I find I have no money with me,' I Baid, desperately. ' But if you will Itni ma your clothts and coma up to Moor End Vicarage, to-night, I'll give you a bov*reign.' , Tne man sneered.

' Taat'B the touch, is it P' he said, quite unpleasantly. 'Look 'ere, boss, I knows that fake. Yon can't come it on me!'

*My good fellow,' I said, ' I am a clergyman' ' axe you P' he t aid, incredulously ' Well, go 'ome and pray for yourself!' Then I remembered my card, and handed him one. Ha looked at it upside down a moment, turned it rourd in his hand, and asked : ' What'B tbis 'ere P A pawn ticket ?' I began to feel really quite annoyed 'lt is my card,' I said sharply, ' with my name and rdlress.' ' I don't want to taike yer same!' he answered, <ff nsively. ' The copper'll do that when taey finds yer!' ' You're a pretty kind of a parson !' continued he, after a pause, daring which he measured me from head to fcot with disfavour. ' You're a balmy blossom, you are ! Goin' round borrowin' other blokes trowit, and not the price o' a pint on y«r! 0 1, I admires yer Eirsilp, I do!' At tbat moment I thought of my watch. The man seemed a very unpleasant person, but I was in a sad plignt, and he tppeared to have been providentially sent for my deliverance. (To be continued )