LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XX, Issue 1549, 5 February 1879, Page 3

LITERATURE.

ONE FATAL NIGHT. By Charles W. Wood, Author op “Through Holland.” [From the “ Argosy. ] Continued. 11. I had but one thing to do now. It had belter be done quickly. That afternoon I sought a private interview with Mrs Hayward, and told her the truth. I need not repeat what passed. ■ A more bitterly indignant, angry woman I never saw, Never should her daughter become my wife She had other views for her, I had played her a cruel, a dishonorable turn, in clandestinely, as she phrased it, stealing her daughter’s affections. She would sooner follow her to her grave than see her my wife. And more to the same effect. ‘ To-morrow morning,’ she concluded, ‘ I and my daughter will leave Erlsmere. You shall see her no more.’ ‘Save yourself that trouble, madam,’ I retorted, for my anger, too, was roused, though und r control. ‘l. have just been with my c main. He leaves Erlsmere tomorrow, and I go with him.’ ‘Leave! v-r WelPsley leave Erlsmere!’ oned Mrs Hayward in startled accents. ‘ What is the meaning of this ?’ ‘ I ‘have not asked him. Perhaps your daughter could give you a reason ’ For the life of me I could not have avoided that nnail stroke of malice. And Mrs Hayward turned livid with rage and terror. She had made so sure of her game. ‘ George she cried, in a tone of suppressed passion : ‘ if you have done this thing, if you have supplanted your cousin in my daughter’s atf ctions, I will never forgive you to m} - dying day. Now leave me. Leave me. I hope I shall never see you again. A In pe de'fined to he fulfilled ; but not as she wished it Ellen did not appear again that day. I contrived t > have orm short interview with her, in which she promised to h« hrave for mv sake. I bid her farewell; and, feeling it might be long ere wo met again, i left my kisses upon her lips, as pledges to be redeemed in the time to come. r ! he next morning I left Erlsmere with my cousin. He war morose and moody, and only answered my remarks in monosyllables He knew nothing of what had passed between Kdenand me; he said nothing, but I fancied he guessed something of the truth. I saw that he w r as not very deeply wounded. His heart would soon go back to its normal condition.

We reached London. My cousin went to Portman square, Ito my chambers. There 1 found an unexpected surprise. A bnef awaited me in an impor'aut case. If I succeeded in carrying it through, it might well move, a sti. pping stone to wor e and success. I laid my head upon the pillow that night. ,i d felt that I would not exchange lots with the happiest, most pro*permn of men. •N hen at breakfast the next morning, my cousin to my inton e surprise came 'n Never Ik fore had he paid me so early a vidt. One look &■:. his face told mo that something had 1 appened. 1 Have you played me this trick ?’ wore the tir-t wo dr; he uttered ; and for the 11rat lime in my recollection his voice betrayed something like genuine emotion. ‘Myg od fellow,’ I replied, 1 1 am not in the habit of playing tricks—to you least of all* What’s the matter V’

‘ Iho di m m ‘s arc gone ' I stared at him in bewilderment 1 recall d our c uversation in the carriage as we drove to E I mere ; n y winder as to what ho would do if sin h a tiling were to happen: bis Relf-c mfi lent reply. ‘ You -ion t m an to say the diamonds are stolen !' I returned. ‘lt was only the other day you tldme of their .-ah t ’i ou said they were b--you I the reach of bu glars, or something to that cliect. ’ ‘ T ue. 1 rcmeiiih r Ai d I was hoping —a forlorn h pe, I admit—that you hiid s imehow caustd them to be abstracted, in ordir to make g iod your words, or to read mo a lees n.’ ‘A f -lorn hpo, truly’ I antweml at once vi xed and amused. * 1 am glad you a i it that. You nmt rac llect that you did iiot even tell me where they were stowed away. I stopped you as you were about to reveal the secret.’ ‘ I d » remember Well, they are gone. They were all in one parcel, wrapped up in cotton wool enclosed in wash leather, and deposited in small black leather case. When 1 got home last ui. ht, and had dined, I went to have alok at them They wore gone ! 1 have never closed my ej es all night,’ lie continued, f verish ytwir ing his hands. And indeed he looked almost haggard. This loss was affecting him far more than the loss of his la iy-love. ‘ Who in the world can have taken them ‘Who indeed!’ returnol my cousin. ‘ Evidently some one who had knowledge of the diamonds. You will naturally think of the servants. I am satisfied of their innocence. Not oue of them knew oven of their existence. I have had every one of than, man and woman, up before me. I told them L had lost a vahiablo parcel during my absence. The ignorance of each aud all of them was too evident to be mistaken. The butler’s maimer was certainly peculiar, but he is altogether above suspicion.’ ‘ Brown is undoubtedly above suspicion,’ I replied, ‘ Twenty years of faithful service to my uncle would prove that, independently of mat himself. But what are you going to do in the matter ?’ *I)o!’ he cried; starting up excitadly, ‘do everything. I will not 1-ave a stone unturned to recover my precious diamonds. I am now oil' to Scotland Yard, and I mean to advoitise largely in all the papers. If any earthly power will bring back ttie diamonds I shall see them again. Woe betide the thief if 1 catch him. He shall have no mercy.’ I felt that to be true enough. Mercy was not very much in my cousin’s line ‘ They will be card to trace, I said. ‘Single stones, unset, may easily be disposed of from tune to time But you must hope for the best. It is a terrible loss.’ Audi thought now rich I should have considered myself with half that sum.

The matter was put into the hands of the authorities at Scotland Yard. In afevv days the f blowing startling advertisement appeared in most of the daily papers : ‘£lo,ooo Reward Whereas a large parcel of diamonds has lately been st< len from No. 100, Poitimn Square. '1 ho sum of £IO,OOO will be paid for their recovery, A proportionate r- ward for their partial recovery. • he further sum of £IOOO will be paid for the identification and arrest of the thief or thievo. Apply to v hief Insprector Sims, Scotland Yhml.’ 1 read and re read the advertisement, The reward was a iar«e one. My comm's love for h s precious atones must have been gr- at indeed, apart from their intrinsic value His feeling of revenge against the offender must have been almost as powerful, to have induced him to add the further sum for the appieheusi n Threo weeki passed away. The robbery had become the talk of the town. Day after day the advertisement appeared. Wh soever the thief might be, he must surely he trembling in his shoes. The whole machinery of Gotland Yard was set in motion : as yet without result. The mystery remained shrouded in gloom. The perpetrator of the robbery was still at large, and the diamonds were stiff musing. During this period I was working hard at my case getting up every possible evidence, determined to achieve a brilliant victory. It was a case full of subtle and minute points ; of intricacie s that had to be umaveiled at the coat of much path nee : a case that would fall through without the most careful and sus amed atten-i >n, and it involved a momentous issue. Fortunately T felt that 1 had right and justice to sustain my efforts. It happened that I had occasion just at this time to go down into Gloucestershire, upon a little private business of my own. I could not well spare two whole days to the task, and tinrefore decided t> travel down by the night train. 1 reached Paddington With about five minutis to spare, took my ticket, chose my compartment, and laid down a small black bag upon the seat, Then I found that I had forgotten to take an insurance ticket, acc ruing to my usual custom, and I left the carriage to remedy the omission, returning almost at once. I halted a moment at the door of my c inpayment, and looked round. As I did so I caught sight of an individual occupying the very seat I had just quitted. My black bag was nowhere visible. I was about to speak totne man, when something caused me to hesitate. There was a peculiar look about him which I did not quite like or understand : a strange reatle-sneas in the eye, as he stared full at me, a wild, almost hunted expression in the face. Almost fancying him a maniac, I shrank from addressing him, I went up to the guard. * There is a man in my carriage * I said, ‘ whose appearance I do not altogether like. I cannot make him out I even doubt his right to be in a first-class compartment. Moreover, a black hag that I left for a moment on the seat has disappeared. Will you oblige me by asking to look at his ticket.’ ‘ Certainly, sir,’ replied the guard, touching hi i cap. ‘lf the man has made any little mistake,’ he affd-’d with a smile, ‘we will let him know it ’ We went up together to the carriage, It was now empty, and the bag was where I bad left it 1 The guard lo keel at ms, I at the bag. I fe't mystified and bewildered. ‘ You have evidently mistaken the compartment, sir,’ said the guard ‘An easy thing <o do unless you notice the number ; they aie ah alike. 1 think you had better get in now ; we are on the point of starling. Do you wish to be alone, sir ?’ ‘ Yes,’ I answered. I had much to think of, and one or two papers to look over. Solitude would assist me The guard closed and locked the door. In a few moments the train moved off. 1 threw myself back in the corner of the carriage, closed my eyes, and gave myself up to redaction. The late incident had perplexed and somewhat annoyed me 1 gradually came to the conclusion that the guard was right; I had mistaken tin compartment. It was a fast train. Thinking over the various points in my case, I gradually fell into a doze.

Something awoke me ; I could scarcely toll what or how. A groan, a movement, an unseen presence'. At first I thought it was inside the compartment, but this was impossible ; I was alone. Then I concluded it must bo the guard passing the window. I jumped up sr.d looked out, but could see no one ; he must have gone back to his van, I threw my elf back in my corner, and was soon dozing once more. •' ,'ai'i I was awakened by a precisely similar noise. Yet still I could not describe what it is. 110 died out agun, bet no guard was visible. We were rushing through the night air. The stars weroshining with all the brilliancy of a frosty night The moon had just risen. The surrounding country looked c >ld i.ark, and gloomy Here and there a light shone out f cm some cottage window or r ad-side lamp, rend' ring the blankness more in tease. No sound was audible, save toe mighty on-rushing or the train, With a half shiver I ih-ow up the wi d..w, and wcn» back to my corner. Contrary to my usual habit, J was strangely sleepy that evening. This 1 attribut' d to a hard day’s work c mbined v. ith the change from the heavy atmosphere of London to tlie clear frosty air through which we were hurrying. {To he continued.)