The Moor End Mystery,

Alexandra Herald and Central Otago Gazette, Issue 440, 1 September 1904, Page 2

The Moor End Mystery,

By Victor Waitc. Author of ' Cross Trails,' &c, &c.

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CHAPTER IX.—(Continued.) j "Ln— Mr Jenkings, sir the , Reverint Mister Jenkings wot's : drowned himself V she howled. 'Mr Jenkins? Do you mean to j tell me he came round the corner—like a motor car? Proof! my good ' girl—impossible!' •Well, 'e did, sir! 'E did so. Come round the corner. James seen ' 'im, too, sir; and it must 'ave been 'is drowned ghost because it 'adn't— ! a—a —l 'ardty likes to say—James 'ere will tell you the same, sir!' The woman's incoherency annoyed ' me. I turned to James, who stood sheepishly by. ( * What in the name of heaven does * she mean ?' I cried. ' Tell me what ( you saw. Come, don't stand there ( staring like a stuffed owl!' ' She means as 'ow the —the gentle- ! man didn't 'ave no clothes on,' said he, awkwardly. 'We just seen a figure, as white as any statute as ever was, come skimming along the lane. ! You'll understand, sir, it didn't walk, It, as it might be, paddled on the ' hair; sir; ami its feet never touchin' ' the ground, sir!' ' ' Bosh V said I. 'lt was someone on a bicycle, no doubt.' •Does gentlemen ride bicycles, as you might say, in the nood, sir—beggin' your pardon, sir ?' asked James seornfully. 'NudeP Do you mean this man was naked ?' ' Yessir—not so much as a collar, sir.' •And what do you think it was, Junes?' •Wot, sir? It was the parson's happarition, sir! It was 'is werry image.' * Nonsense!' I cried. * What put such stuff in your head ?' ' Please, sir, I thought ' 1 But you had no business to think!' 'But, please, sir, I didn't think ' Well you ought to have thought!' ' But if you please, sir * 'I don't please!' ' Very, well, sir,' •Very well? You're nothing of the sort! You can't be well. Apparition ? Appetite! That's what it is. You've been over-eating! You are bilious! D'youhear? Bilious—both of you >" ' Yessir.' 'Go and take a pill—a handful of pills!' ' Certainly, sir.' *Go along now, both of you; and no more fiddle-faddle! But-if I ever catch you seeing ghosts again, I'll dismiss you on the spot!' ' Very good, sir.-' * That's right. Now go downstairs and be quiet. Ghosts? Pooh—pooh!' So I sent them off and thought there was an end of the mattery but I was wrong. Nest day the story was all over the town, and half a score of people actually declared they had seen the ghost of the mad curate. In several widely different places persons had seen—or thought they had seen—a white naked figure ihat glided swiftly along through the air: One man said the ghost rode a bicycle, but the other witness "scoffed at the idea. Anyhow the fact remained that a number of apparently sane and healthy persons had at about the same hour that evening seen a white form in the lanes, and that they agreed in stating that it resembled the missing parson. CHAPTER X,—THE RESURRECTION OF THE PARSON. (Kentland's Narrative.) Sunday morning came, and there was still no sign of the parson. * He's on another snag!' I said to myself. I never saw such a blooming Jonah as that chap Jenkins. If there was an ant hill within a mile, he'd be dead sure to go and sit on it. Dress him, and he'd lose his clothes. Start him out on a bicycle and he'd lose himself, i guess the Vicar must have done a private jubil when he disappeared. I know I wouldn't take him round on the end of a leg-rope. His Aunt Jemima can have him all lor mo. 'Well,' I said, Til give him till sundown, and if he don't turn up by

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then I won't wait.' The worst of it was that the fool had run off with my bicycle—or it had run off with him, which was quite as likely, but I hadn't enough spare necks to stay around on the off-chance of the bike bringing the parson back again. So bike or no bike I settled to clear right out as soon as it was dark that night- I could buy a machine if need be at some quiet upcountry township as I went along; but that meant fifteen or twenty sovereigns out of my pocket, just because the Reverend Algernon Jenkins was born a juggins. He was a decorative idiot! He'd have made a good stone saint in a shrine, The job of lying on his back with his hands clasped, with a look of Christian resignation and a coat of white-wash on him, would have been just about his weight. Well, the morning went by. It was a blazing hot day, and that dirty stuffy cabin was no nosegay, I can tell you. Outside I could hear a barge or a train pass along once in a while; and then the stillness and heat would settle down and doze again, and the flies would buzz around lazily, and away off in the paddocks the horsereapers would chirrup like big cicadas. I still had a little tucker left, but had run out of baccy; or I think I'd have risked the smoke being seen and would have lighted up. As it was I squatted on the floor with my cold pipe in my teeth, and was beastly sorry for myself. And long before sdndown I was full up to the neck of the hide and seek game I had gone into. For all I knew poor little Dot might be very ill, or arrested for that matter; and it seemed hopeless to try and get news of her so long as I stayed about Moor End. The first thing that strikes you when you try being a criminal is that you have no address. I tell you it makes you feel pretty lonely and cut off—worst than the backmost Back-Blocks. For even on the Wallaby trail out Back you do strike a pub now and again, and letters do get there some day. But when you are wanted on'urgent business at Scotland Yard and have to do a ' get' on short notice, you suddenly find yourself outside the postal radius; and you want to get in again badly too. I saw that the only thing to be done was to clear to some place where, under an alias, I could make use of the Post Office; and I realised I had made a false move in staying near the township one minute longer than I could help. So when the dusk came that Sunday night I got into my new clerical outfit, rolled up my old clothes into a bundle in the corner of the room, and set out for the canal. Knowing that Sunday was the most likely day for meeting people, I made a big detour and came down on the canal through the paddocks When I first landed in this country I couldn't stand the shut-in feel of the footy little fenced-up chess-board fields, but 1 found that tall hedges came in handy when playing hide and seek with the local constabulary. I suppose everything has its use. Well, I reached the canal all right, and was making down it to find a lock where I could cross, when just at the bend where the railroad runs close alongside I caught the sound of voices. I didn't feel very sociable just then, so I looked round for some place to plant myself till the coast was clear. The night was not very dark, and I noticed in a quiet spot under the shadow of some trees an old deserted barge lying close to the bank. It was just the place for me, so I went down to the water-side and jumped aboard. The moment' my feet struck the little wooden after-deck there came an unearthly groan from the innards of the old hulk; and up out of the dark hatchway rose a white thing that waved its arms at me like a small windmill. I you 1 was scared. I very nearly went head over heels backwards into the water. And then that ghostly concern began to talk. 'G—g—go away!' it said. 'I don't want you!' • Great Scott!' I cried,' it's Jenkins! Shut up, you fool. You'll have the whole township on us!' .._ But he gave only a howl, I

_ I couldn't wait to argue, so I rammed my handkerchief down his throat, rolled him into the cabin, and sat on .him. The sound of voices from the I bank drew near.

'James, did you 'ear that?' said a woman's voice.

They must have come to a stand on the bank not four yards away. ' Oh, that ain't nothink,' came the reply in masculine tones. ' But it was somethink!' cried the woman, shrilly. 'James, isn't this where the parson suicidled hisself yesterday ? It might be 'is— 'is ' 'Goon,Ameliert' replied the other. c It wasn't 'ere, was it P'

' I'm sure certain it was though I' The man didn't seem to like that much.

''E was raving mad they say,' he remarked. 1 That he was I' she answered. ' Mary Ball she told Cook that 'er sister Jane's brother-in-lor saw the mad parson a-rampin' down the lanes. And she says his tongue was 'angin' hout and his mouth all froth just like a mad dorgl' 'Goon! Was it? That's hydropathics—wot they muzzles the poodles for. Ob, he's got 'em all right, Amelier; been bitten with a mad dorg and got 'em bad!' I felt the Parson squirm under me. Guess he didn't like the tone of the conversation and wanted to explain. But I held him down. Perhaps I hurt him a bit, forhe groaned. 'Did you 'ear that?' said the woman. ' James, do you think his ghost might ' At that moment Jenkins managed to get the handkerchief half out of his mouth, and let out a ghastly yell. The woman gave a ratty little squeak.

' Lawks! James,' she screamed, • wotever's that!'

' Don't you pay no 'e?d,' replied he, in a shaky voice. ' That's only an 'owling howl!' The Parson groaned as I held his head shut, and I heard the quick sound of feet as that pair of fatheads did a preserving scoot. As soon as they were clear away I let the Parson up. He was in • a tremendous scofc, poor devil, and seemed to think it was all my fault, He danced a wardance round me in his birthday suit—for he had lost the other half of his clothes now—rand called me * Judas.'

'You d-d-deceived me!' he said, shaking his fist in my face. ' All right,' I said,' no need to get your coat off!' He took that for a personal insult. ' How dare you ?' he said. ' I'll— I'll—l'll '

' You'll get us both run in if you kick up such a shine!' I said. ' Look here! You keep quiet, or I'll sit on your head again ?' That seemed to calm him down a lot; for he began to talk sensibly, and told me he had come down to find the trousers, and was sold. 'But what did you do with the things you had?' I inquired 'I never saw an extravagant beggar for clothes where ara they? Been sitting around on ant hills again ?' He seemed hurt by that, and piled up all the dignity he could without any clothes to put it in. ' I have had a most extraordinary mishap,' he said.

'Another? What was it? Obliging sundowner with 3 taste in watches or a '

' No. It—it was two young women.' 'My giddy auntl D' you mean to say ' ' They were m—most unscrupulous!' he said, with his teeth chattering like a kettled-lid at the boil; 'm-most nefarious I'

' Jee—hoshaphat! But you don't mean they tore the clothes off your back, man ?' 'Oh, no'' he cried. And I could actually hear him blush. And then he started and told me all about it.

He had got sick of waiting for me to come back, and just before day had set out to lind the trousers, as we had arranged. He went to Bough End, but found that the swing bridge there was open and he could not cross; so he tramped down to the lock, but found a barge there, and was sold again. Well, by the time he reached a spot opposite the place where my bike was hidden, and where he looked to find some trousers, the dawn was breaking, and he reckoned he hadn't time to go round by the lower bridge before daylight came. So he made up his mind to swim for it.

I liked his pluck, though it was bad judgment. The square fact is that the sermon he was booked to preach that morning was working on his mind, and he was ready to do any lunacy sooner than fail to roll up to time in church. He was scared of the talk, ; though why he should have cared I can't see. He could easily have spun the Vicar some yarn about a railway accident or the sudden illness of his Aunt Jemima or something; but he had no resource. Well, he undressed under some willows, and left what clothes he had on the bank. There was a shallow, swampy backwater, and a low little island, with a row of stunted willows along it between him and the canal itself. He waded across the swamp through the high reeds, and had just made the island when a string of barges came along; and he had to sit there among the rushes while they crawled by at an aggravating mile and a half an hour. By the time the last was out of sight the daylight had come,

The Parson was in a deuce of a fix. If he tried to get back to Hammerton he stood a big show of being seen; and anyhow his only chance of turning up for that preaching, was to get the trousers; so he had to swim. Nobody was in sight, and he got into

the dirty black water and crossed; but 'of course he found tfo trousers. That made him pretty ill; but he felt a lot worse when he got back to the island just in time to see the two women —mill girls I expect they were —coming cruising down the other bank where he had left his clothes. He sat down and crouched in the oozy mud among the reeds to wait until they passed. But they didn't seem in any hurry. It was a beautiful summer morning, and they meant to use it. Every now and then the parson would peep through the tall" reeds to see if they were gone; but they had got behind the trees, and though he could not see them, he could hear their voices chattering like parrots. They appeared to be interested in something too, for they seemed excited ; and at last it dawned upon that shivering curate that the two girls had found his clothes.

I wish I had seen him squatting in the muddy swamp and trying to think of something bad enough to say about me; for he shoved all the blame of everything on my shoulders, of course.

Well, at last the women cleared and the Parson crawled up from the swamp all muddy and chilled, and ran to the tree where he had left his clothes. And then he nearly chucked a complicated fit, for the clothes were gone. 'But why didn't you shout when you saw they were gone ?' I asked. ' Shout ?' he moaned. ' Think of the hideous scandal '

' Oh, rot,' said I, for I couldn't see why he should have been so squeamish. 1 You've raised a pretty healthy scandal as it is ! Can't you see ? Those girls thought you had committed suicide —' ' Suicide ?' he cried. ' Good heavens! They cannot —they dare not suggest ■ • They jolly well did though ! You heard what that couple on the bank saic just now.' Jenkins groaned. 'But the Vicar!' he said. 'Tbe Vicar would never believe '

' I'll bet you he's preaching a post mortem sermon over the defunct now!'

That curate collapsed upon the cabin floor and squirmed. 'My Aunt Jemima'' he wailed. ' What will she do ? What will she think?'

' Oh, she'll think you've gone to Heaven. But she'll soon-find out you haven't. Don't you worry,' I said, for I saw the poor beggar was taking things too seriously and working himself into such a ferment that I thought he'd go clean off his head. He could see the joke of it a little bit, and imagined the entire parish would go bung because he hadn't turned up to preach according to contract. He had no sense of humour, that padre. I saw I must get him roused up to something. 'Look here,' I said. 'Are you going to spend the balance of your days in this old hulk ? Or are you going to get up on end and clear out of it ?'

' What am Ito do?' he replied, in a voice like a sick twopenny flute. 'What can I do?'

'Now, see here. I have left my suit of clothes in' the old. house, You're dressed for bathing; iso you can easily swim the canal here, trot up the tow-path, get my bike, and run over to Hammerton. See ?

He brightened up a bit at that; but seemed doubtful of any plan I proposed. • But won't people see me?' '' Not in the dark, or if they do, nobody will recognise you. You get the clothes, and run down to Dr. Tring with a message from me.' ' I don't want to do any messages for you I' he burst, out. 'I don't want to be connected with you I I won't.'

' All right. If you'd rather walk home to the vicarage in your present costume, do so. The old vicar might mistake you for Adam and take you in —as a relative, but I should think you'd feel more comfortable if -' 'Don't;' ho said, feebly. 'l'm in your power. I'll go.' ' That's right. I thought you only wanted a little encouragement. Well, now, take my bike and get the clothes. Then run down to Tring's and ask for him. Ring the patient's bell, mind, and insist on seeing the doctor himself. The servant will think you're an urgent case, and will howk the man out of bed and bring him down. See? Now, wait a moment.'

I tore a leaf from my pocket-book. Then closing the wagging cabin door as well as I could, I lit a match and made the Parson hold it, while 1 scrawled a note with the end of another match on the paper. The • curate looked as funny as a circus, squatting there without a stitch on him on the dirty floor, striking matches. He'd have made a good picture for a Salon Nu.

' Now,' said I, handing him the note, ' give that to the doctor and fetch' along his answer tome here. It won't take long. You have the bike. By the way, I suppose you cau work it all right ?'

' Oh, yes,' he said, ' but —but must I come back here ?'

' I give you the suit and lend you the bike on condition that you do my message. Unless you promise that I'll take the bike and ride off and leave you here.' So he promised and we went on deck.

The night was very still. Hardly a breath of wind stirred. We listened a while to make sure the coast was clear; but there was no sound. ' Don't lose the note,' I said as I helped him overside. 'lt won't' take long. Be back before suu-up, mind. So long I' (To be continued.)