THE FIRST LAW

Evening Star, Issue 19794, 18 February 1928, Page 13

THE FIRST LAW

A Dramatic Serial

By C. C. Andrews

CHAPTER 11. (Continued). COUSIN EVERARD. At tins point ol the cross-ex ami nalion Alison interposed. “ Peggy, you’re about the rudest little interrogation point breathing! Bring me Mr Fc'olt’s cup, and then do cut your breakfast instead of asking such a hailstorm of questions.” Sue Idled the cup and brought it across to the pile of cushions upon which Clitheroo had been placed, lowering her voice as she glanced aside ut Peggy, who, in spite of his reluctant struggles, had now backed the puppy upon his haunches against Clyde’s knees, and was balancing a lump of sugar on his unwilling nose. “Excuse her, won’t you?” she sai' 1 “Her tongue certainly wants cP iping. But she was dreadfully delicate when «li« was younger, and got outrageously spoilt in consequence.” “Delicate?” He took the cup—had she divined anything of the desperate effort with which he had smiled, seemed easy, ready, careless? No; there were only friendliness and interest in the brown eyes, nothing of suspicion. What would sho say, how look if she knew that they were the first women’s eyes into which he had looked for four years? A handsome girl, by the way, with her splendid figure and glorious golden brunette coloring! Tin's was his first conscious recognition that she had beauty. “ Delicate P She does not look so,” he said. “Not now—no. But she was a woeful white weed of a thing when I brought her down here three years ago. Dartmoor and the Crooked Cot have made a new creature of her between them.” “The Crooked Cot?” “Where we live, you know.” She looked amused. “Had you been imagining us domiciled at Llansladrone?” “ I suppose 1 had.” “ Oh, no. But we arc very near. Aunt Camilla did suggest our settling at the Court—it’s so huge—but I preferred being quite my own mistress. I’d been used to it, you see. So I bought Crooked Cot—the queerest pla .” Sho laughed. “To the abiding amazement of most of my relations and friends. That a young-woman with an income big enough to allow her to do pretty well as she pleased and nobody to say her nay should deliberately elect to bury Herself hi this out-of-the world corner is a thing incredible, as incredible as that to get up to paint before breakfast—as I. did this morning—pleases me as much as to dance all' night would bore me.” Pausing, her tone changed. “ You are feeling pretty well yourself now, I hope?” “ A thousand thanks—yes.” “ Most fortunate that wo found you! ft was rather rash, you know, a stranger in the land as you are, to try to walk from the station.” “It certainly proved so. A sense of locality that may be trusted on a Canadian prairie won’t serve on Dartmoor, it seems.” “ Evidently not.” She frowned, considering. “ You left the train at Oakhampton, of course? ” “Should 1 not have done so? The nearest town, is it not? ” “The nearest town—yes. But not 1 the nearest station—that is Langston 'l'ana. But, you know, you were right off the right road.” “ Is that so?” “ Entirely. In fact, you were facing away from Llansladrone.” “ Indeed 1 I am stupider than 1 thought.” “Stupid? Oli, hardly. The roads are really awfully perplexing. Probably, if you fell near the old quarry “ It was certainly near.” “ And were stunned by the blow on your head ” “1 believe 1 was.” “Then, most likely, when you came to yourself, you simply turned round without knowing it. and went back on your own tracks, if you did that ” “ I must have done it. I—l beg your pardon, Miss Romaync! ” He had kept his voice level, had kept a steady face, but his hand was less under his control, and then the dropped cup rolled broken to Alison’s feet. Inaudible to her unlistening cars, swelling into a roar in his, the sound that had broken the stillness of the moor came on, the regular tramp, tramp of marching feet—the feet from which he had frantically fled last night! They slackened, halted, there was a gruff mutter of voices, and in a moment, clearly outlined against the vivid morning sky, a figure appeared upon the ridge of the path, looking down into the little glen. CHAPTER HI. 'THE MAN OF THE QUARRY. “ Why, it’s the Colonel I What a lark!” Peggy cried. “Colonel Strickland!” exclaimed Alison. The three ejaculations—for Clyde echoed Miss Romayne—came together as Clitheroe got upon Ids feet, staring at the figure of the mounted men who had appeared upon thepath, sitting on his powerful horse as if he were part of it, stiffly erect as a ramrod. Pooh! Tliis was no warder! And if it were, what had Everard Foliott to fear? Straining his ears, never turning his head, ho made out that the mutter of voices was retreating, that the tramp of feet was dulled as though muffled upon grass. The Colonel doffed his hat, dismounted, slipped the bridle upon his arm, and came clown the slope. Towering to some inches over six feet, carrying the chest and shoulders of a Hercules, with thick, iron-grey hair, moustache and brows still dark, and bright unsunken eyes, he carried his sixty years more than gallantly. Bareheaded, lie held out a large hand in a spotless buckskin glove to Alison. “Good morning, Miss Romayne—you arc abroad early! All! I wish 1 could persuade my niece that there is nothing like the morning air for a young lady’s roses! Well, Peggy, my dear! How are you, Clyde? 1 suppose you’ve heard the news, eh? Jt seems that—Hullo! Beg pardon! I didn’t observe ”

He stopped as he caught sight ot (.lie strange figure, the strange face. Clithcroe [lulled himself together, met the bright question of the _ keen eyes steadily. In a moment Alison was introducing “Mr Foliott” to “our friend and your neighbor, Colonel Hector Strickland, of Black Watch House.” In another Clitheroe found hi.) hand gripped and shaken, heard himself being heartily welcomed ‘ home.” Before lie could reply with more titan a word, Peggy interrupted —she plunged into a volubly circumstantial account of how site and Pedro had found “Cousin Kveiard.” Wasn’t it lucky!' she demanded eagerly. He might have lain there hours and hours! Very likely nobody would have seen him—she wouldn’t but for Pedro. How did the Colonel come to have passed—to be out on the moor so early? And hadn’t there been some men up there? The Colonel laughed as she nodded up towards the path. “ Yes, you’ve sharp ears, young lady, as well as sharp eyes! I came upon them a few minutes ago—a party of

(Author of ‘Beggar My Lady,’ ‘His Hour,’ ‘The House of Murgatroyd,’ etc.)

warders—of the civil guard—from Prince Town.” “The civil guard?” cried Alison, startled. “Just so, my dear. You haven’t heard, then? You haven’t, Clyde? Bless my soul! How’s that? I’ve only known it an hour myself, to be sure; but, then, i dined out and spent the night with the Vcverleys. They ’phoned the news through to me there after, it scorns, trying to ring me up at Black Watch. One of those scoundrels from the prison made a bolt of it yesterday morning.” “One of the convicts? And got off?” asked Clyde, hastily. “ Clean off—yes. Must have been great slackness on the part of the warders, in my opinion, great slackness. One of our moor fogs—well, one understands that. More or less—more or less. But in broad daylight! There was a row—a fight—among the gang, and this fellow seized the chance and ran for it, from what 1 can make out. Only one warder saw and challenged him, it appears. Ought to be cashiered —must have fired wide.” “ I hope lie did,” Clyde exclaimed quickly. His sensitive face had flushed red. Thu Colonel stiffened and frowned. “Ah”’ he said curtly. “ ThaCs where you and I differ, Mr Clyde. You’re a philanthropist—what!. J am a magistrate, and 1 am a soldier, and 1 say, let the guilty suffer. Should do if the criminal were ray own son. As lor this particular scamp, hope he’ll be laid by the heels as soon as may bo.” “ Not much doubt of that, 1 suppose,” Clitheroe struck in. He looked composedly at the other, his tone level, easy, steady. “ Small chance. 1 take it, of his escaping in the long run.” “My dear feilow—no! Not a chance in five thousand. Remembering the difficulties, can’t make out why they’re ever mad enough to-bolt. Putting the question of food on one side—and he must be pretty well starved by this time—there’s that ol clothes and ii.unov. Given tiioso ( unci luuins i,luck enough to use them, he might get olf, I grant you. But where is ho likely to obtain either? No—they’ll have him fast enough. Before even he’s clear of the moor probably. “It seems likely. I’m afraid I’m inclined to agree with Mr Clyde and pity the poor devil!” With his half-laugh he glanced up towards the path as Peggy had done. “ Did think they were on his scent?” “ No. Haven’t managed to pick up his tracks so far. There have been search parties out ever since, ol course, but with no result up to the present.' “At first, naturally, he would only think of running,” Alison said slowly. “ But afterwards he would surely try to make his way in the direction of a town. Uakhampton is the nearest. Supposing him to know the lie of the land at all, don’t you think it likely? “ That he would make that way ? Highly probable, my clear.” The colonel made a sudden turn upon Chtheroe. “By the way, my dear fellow, you came from Oakhamptou, 1 understand? Suppose you saw no signs ol the broad arrow, eh?” “No,” said Clitheroe. “No signs of anything queer? Nobody?” Clitheroe bud no time to answer, to repeat the calm denial. Adrian Clyde made a sudden movement, gave a sudden ejaculation. “ Why,” ho exclaimed, “ that may be the explanation of it!” His tone was so loud, his look so strange that all four stared at him. The colonel spoke. “Tlis explanation ol what? he asked bluntly. “Of the adventure that 1 had on the moor last night.” _ ‘‘ Oh !” The colonel's tone was gruff. “ Picked up another recruit lor the Labor Camp?” “ No. Another patient lor the hospital. A woman.” “A woman? You don’t mean you found her on the moor?” “ i’ll tell you.” He looked at Alison. “ You know 1 went to Oakharnpton yesterday, Miss Romayne.'' Well, my business took longer—hours longer —than 1 expected. It must have been quite II o’clock—the moon was just rising—when ,1 started to return. You know the old quarry ?—near which you had your tall, by the way, Mr Foliott. I must have been pretty nearly abreast of it when I first heard the sounds.” “The sounds,” Alison repeated; “what sounds?” “ Screams. No, that’s not the right word. Hoarse, panting, gasping cries, as if the voice had been almost shrieked away. 1 stopped, of course, and jumped out. I had hardly done so when she burst out of the bushes like a wild creature and dropped in a heap in- the road not a dozen feet from the car.” “In a. fit; there was foam on her mouth and her eyes were rolled up. Hurt? No—there’s no sign of that. Her hat was gone, and her dress, a flimsy muslin thing, all torn and dragged round the bottom. What had so frightfully terrified her I couldn’t imagine.” “ And now' you think sho must have seen this convict scamp?” cried the colonel. “At any rate, it suggests itself as possible. Don’t you think so, Miss Romayne?” “It certainly might be. Something must have frightened her,” Alison agreed. “Was she alone?” “ Quite, so far as I know. I shouted a few' times, but got no answer. Seeing the state sho was in I dared not wait, f put her into the car—she’s a. slight little thing, luckily, like a child—and got her to the hospital as quickly as I could.” “A child? Y'ou mean she is young.’’ “A mere girl—yes. Twenty, perhaps.” “ A lady?” “Judging by her dress. Wearing a good deal of jewellery—rather too much —which may or may not.be real. Sho came out of the fit, but not to her senses—raved and screamed in high fever—is not much better now.” “Hump! Queer business, certainly. Y'ou haven’t found out her name?” asked the Colonel. “No; nothing that she says makes sense, and there was nothing about her to explain identity. Old Oliver —t knocked him up on the way—says_ that it’s impossible to tell how things will go for a day or two—she may be in for a long illness,” Clyde answered. He looked at Alison again. It not being safe to leave her alone, I sat with her till morning. Y T on know how shorthanded we are at the hospital just now, and obliged to give the nurses all the rest possible. Which accounts for your having met me taking a walk so early. J suppose, Mr Foliott, it would be later when you passed the quarry?” “ After midnight.” “ All! Before then I had reached the hospital. So necessarily yon can throw no light on the thing. A strange happening, though. Don’t you think so?” “That’s a mild expression—it’s extraordinary,” said Clitheroe, coolly.

“Deucedly odd!” confirmed the Colonel. “Shouldn’t be surprised, Clyde, when your young woman comes to her senses if it turns out that she did see

this convict scoundrel.” He turned to Alison. “ I was on my way to Llansladrone, my dear—came off' at once when 1 heard of this affair. Miss Foliott may be nervous if she hears ot it through the servants, and they re pretty sure to have it in an hour or two. if they haven’t done so already. I’ll ride on, I think.” "Oh, 1 say!” Peggy, engaged in bundling eatables and crockery back into the basket, turned a remonstratory face. ** Ijook Colonel fetricJiland, yon won’t go and tell her about Cousin Everard, will you? It will be most awfully jolly mean if you do. Alison and 1 found him, and I want us to tell her. We shall be there as soon as you are—almost. Just talk convict till we come; she’ll be most frightfully interested. Dol” The Colonel laughed and promised. Then he ascended the slope, mounted, and rode off at Bis stately military trot. Miss Roraayne, rapidly putting her sketching materials together, checked the farewell which Glyde began to speak. There was no need whatever for him to think of walking back, she declared—there would be plenty ot room in the pony carriage. She was very kind, Clyde answered, but there was a call out of her road that he had to make—he would rather walk. He mounted the slope to the path as the Colonel had done, carrying his hat, the breeze ruffling his thin, light hair, the long skirts of his cassock-like coat Hying, a quaint, frail figure, curiously priest-like. Alison’s eyes met Clitheroe’s: she spoke, as it seemed, on a sudden impulse, quickly. “I think ho is the one really godd man I have ever known,” she said. You are fortunate in knowing even one.” “Yes.” She paused. “You must have heard of Clyde and Company?” “ Of the Southern Cross Navigation Combine? Yes. He belongs to it?” “ In a sense, yes, although he practically withdrew from it when his father's death left him free to do as he chose five years ago. You heard the .Labor Camp and the hospital spoken of? He has established them, maintains them, devotes himself to them. There is n oman in them who works harder and spares himself less. He is absurdly rich, of course—all the Clydes are—but 1 doubt if bis personal expenses reach two hundred a year.” “The Labor Camp is for what? ” “ For anyone who needs it. But principally for the benefit of discharged prisoners. Thanks, but I’m afraid you can hardly feel fit to do anything yet.” Clitheroe had taken the stool and easel from her. In a few minutes the pony carriage, by a less steep route, bad also made its way out of the glen, Peggy driving. Alison presently broke the silence with an obvious effort, lowering her voice. “We all have our besetting weaknesses, 1 suppose,” she said abruptly, “ and I believe mine is a tendency to put my fingers into other people’s pies, i—well, I want to say that I’m agraid yon must not expect a very warm welcome from Gilbert.” “Ah! I’m afraid,” said Clitheroe slowly—what new factor in the game was tins? “I’m afraid 1 did not expect a very warm welcome from Gilbert. He is at Llansladrone? ” “ Not at the moment. He has been to Plymouth for the last wek—will probably return some time to-day.” She eyed him. “ You think his feeling natural, then? ” “May J ask—do you not?”

“11l ii fashion, perhaps, but ■” She broke off. “J certainly think—as 1 have told him—that he should have tried to remember that his father was onlj' the second son.” “ 1 take it that lie has ignored it? ” “ P.ractically. In fact, 1 know that until a year ago lie always looked upon himself as the certain heir, although your grandfather had never made it a secret that if your father were discovered to be alive lie would inherit as tho eldest son, or his son, if he had one. Hut the inquiries having been fruitless for so long, it was perhaps only natural for Gilbert to conclude that they always would be so. Ho was angry, to use a weak word, when they proved otherwise. There was a quarrel between him and Mr Folio tt; I’m afraid it was never wholly made up. When it was at last settled that your father and yourself wore coming to England—to Llansadrone—he was angrier still.” She paused. “I hope you are not putting me down as an officious busybody? ” “ I am in no danger of doing that.” “Well, I hope not. I only want you to understand that there arc, in a sc r-e, some cnuim-s to be made for Gilbert il you don’t find liim very cordial. His position is not a bad one; he has money from his mother; but it is utterly different from what it would have been had lie stood in your place.” She hesitated again. “ I should like to toll you, too, that your lather’s .sudden death was a great shock io Mr Foliott. Indeed, 1 believe it killed him; he was never the same altenvards. Ho never said much; it. was not his way, hut 1 feel sure that lie reproached himself bitterly for the breach. Whatever may have caused it, and, indeed, I do not know ”

“ Nor J,” Clithcroe interpolated composed I,v. “Ah! ,1 am not surprised at that. .Reticence is a trait ot the Foliotts. But whatever the cause may have been, I am sure lie chiefly blamed himself,” concluded Alison quietly. Clitheroe gave no reply, beyond a gesture—at once, the safest and the easiest thing. He was thinking that had the girl knowingly set herself to smooth his path for the next few hours she would 'hardly have been more explicit, more comprehensive. Neither had spoken again when Peggy turned the ponies in at a side gate set in a high park wall. A few moments brought into view a great, irregular, manygabled house of red brick and grey stone, timbered, ancient, massive; a few more and the carriage stopped before a low doorway under a porch. On the threshold Miss Koraayne paused and held out her hand—a hand I hat matched the rest ot her personality, large and capable, warm and firm. “ This is not how you should arrive, you know,” she said, smiling. “.It is quite outside the fitness of things that only I should bid you welcome to Llansladrone.”

She led the way into what was epidcntly a side hall. !No one was visible, but from beyond a certain doorway came a sound of voices, male and female, excited and ejaculatory—the news of the runaway convict had spread among the servants, it was J plain, Clithcroo thought, and felt a grim tendency toward laughter. Thus a figure appeared, in the distance—that of a woman largo and tali,' deep-bosomed and high-hipped, some head-dress of white linen or lace crowning her irongrey hair. Was this Miss Poliott? Peggy darted forward. “Oh, there's Dorcas Wade!" she exclaimed. “ I say, Dorcas, where’s Aunt Camilla!'' D’you know?” “ The mistress is in her sitting room, Miss Peggy. Colonel Strickland is with her.” Her voice, though not harsh, was strong and deep; she passed on, walking with a tread and swing as vigorous as a girl’s—she had not seemed to see Clitheroe. Alison signed to him to follow her; he presently found himself alone in a. great room into which another opened from what was evidently the entrance hall, for she had hurried away to tell Aunt Camilla, and Peggy had gone with her. The result was a welcome one; gave him time to arrange his thoughts. _ The ice, without doubt, would be perilously thin—he must recollect what ho had been told, be wars', say little. The question of leaving the house later might he left for the present. Once safely away, once in London The thought broke olf; he started up, turning towards the second doorway. It was an arch draped by curtains, almost facing that of the outer room which stood open, and in the hall beyond the figure of a man had suddenly come into view. A footman was taking his coat, speaking, it seemed, in reply to a question, was addressing him as—-

what?—“ Mr Gilbert!” Whew! Hero was another danger agape in his way —Gilbert Foliott—the man who would not give him “a cordial welcome” —a joke, that, if the thing, before it were carried through, admitted of laughter —Gilbert Foliott had come back I He turned his head, advancing, and Clitheroe, with his backward movement, felt as though a Hash of light had blinded him. , The man of the quarry I Only one full sight, as it was addressed lor a moment towards his ambush, had he caught of his face as ho pursued his frantic search, but it had been enough. Wild with rage and terror then, composedly calm now, still there was no mistaking it. This was Gilbert Foliott. And Gilbert Foliott bad killed Everard Foliott—killed the cousin who stood in his way, had taken his place. (Strange, by the way, how a man desperately absorbed in the consideration of his own escape and safety could forget all else! Since the recovery of his senses he had not, ho knew, consciously glanced at this aspect of the case—had not wondered at the murder, or speculated as to who the murderer might be.) What next—what next? There stood Gilbert Foliott, and here stood ho in Everard Foliott’s place. There was a way out of this evil if he could but see it. His hand slipped into his breast, the fingers closing upon he cross of the jewelled dagger head that lay there. At the moment when he might have advanced, shown himself, spoken, an interruption came. Peggy appeared in the hall, saw Gilbert as he entered the outer room, and ran across to him. “Hullo, Gilbert! Fancy—you’re back, then I I didn’t know.” _ Eager and excited, she followed him in. “1 say, what do you think’s happened? Guess!” “Happened? You mean about the convict bolting, 1 suppose? Stale news, my dear. I’ve heard it already.” “ Huh—convict! Who cares about convicts? Who do you think is here, then? There 1” “Here? Yon arc, 1 suppose.” ‘ “Me? Fiddle! So’s Alison, for that matter. Everard!” cried Peggy. “What?” “Everard. Wo found him on the moor, Alison and me, in a swoon or faint, or something. He’d been hurt.” “Hurtl” “ Yes. Fallen down and made his head bleed. Not far from the old quarry, he says. He got out at the wrong station, and lost his way. We thought he was dead at first—but Oh-li-h !” With the cry she indignantly wrenched away from the sudden grip that bad clutched her. “ Gilbert, don’t bo such a goat! What are you grabbing hold of me like that for? He is here! Go in there and look if you don’t believe it I All right, Alison I I say. Gilbert’s come.” She ran out, vanished. Clitheroe’s withdrawn hand dropped empty to his side. What next? It was quite plain what next—the game should be played in his own way. He advanced towards the curtained arch. His face was in shadow, but here was the dress, much, probably, of the height, bulk, figure—in a moment the man who had left Everard Foliott dead would confront Everard Foliott living. Let him think so! And after let him dare deny it. Gilbert slowly turned bis face—a face of sweet-dabbled pallor, and with one sharp-caught breath was still. Clitheroe laughed, 'advancing into the light. “ Good-day, cousin!” ho said composedly. Gilbert fell back with open mouth and dilated eyes a-stare. “You—you ” he gasped. Clitheroe shrugged. “It seems you do not know me, cousin,” ho said as before. Gilbert stumbled and caught at a chair. “Know—know you ! You—you dare to say that you ”bo gasped again. “Am Everard Foliott? Assuredly. If you do not believe it ” “ Believe it-^ —” Clitheroe slipped a hand into his breast. “In that case I beg to furnish a proof of identity which you will hardly deny is satisfactory,” he said cpolly. “Even should you fail to recognise it there are, I should imagine, plenty at Llansladrone, who will know it well. Miss Romayne, say. Or Miss Camilla Foliott. It is a thing, cousin, one does not sec every day. If—without touching—you will do me the favor to examine ” He broke off. As he did so, as with a ghastlier change in his already ghastly face Gilbert glared at bis halfwithdrawn band, there came a sudden patter of running feet, and Peggy dashed into the room. Cousin ! Everard Gilbert just fancy!” she cried. “There are the men from Prince Town at the door—the civil guard! They’re coming in! They say that the runaway convict is here!” (To lie continued.) .