THE OSSIIGTON MYSTERY.

Kaipara and Waitemata Echo, 24 April 1914, Page 7

THE OSSIIGTON MYSTERY.

By Hedley Richards, Author of "The aullionaire'e Last Will," "The Day of Reckoning," e tc, etc.

(ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS PARTS. , Detective Brown, of Scotland Yard j^ has been called upon to investigate WH the murder of Viscount Bewley, only son and heir of the Marquis of Troncastle. It comes out in evidence at the inquest that Blanche Latimer, the beautiful niece of Sir Thomas Latimer, a near neighbour of the martnus, had received on the day of the / murder an offer of marriage from Lord Bewley, and his cousin, Captam Neville, which she refused. I n the course of his investigations the detective learns that an intimacy had existed between the murdered man and Mary Hirst, the daughter of a Her brother Tom deeply rested this, an d has been heard threatening vengeance upon the Viscount. Posing as an artist, the detective visits the cottage of the Hirsts. PART 4. CHAPTER IV.—(Continued.) "Can you tell me which is the best , Path to take—this side of the bridge or the other ? I want to sketch some pretty views of the dene." "The other side, sir, and cross the stepping-stones lower down—at least, that's a part many of the ladies paint. Lady Mary, tha marquis's daughter, has done several of the dene, and she mostly sits about there." "Thank you. I heard there had been a murder here. Whereabouts was it? I should like to see the spot." "I cannot show you rightly from here, but I'll do my best ;" and she stepped out. "You see over there, sir ? Well, it was nigh those trees. If you want to get there, your best plan will be to go over the stream, and you'll come to them. Then just fceep on, and it will bring you to the place ;" _ adding, "But you'd better take care; the path's mortal narrow some places. Just where his lordship was shot, it's uncommom bad." v-."lt's an awful affair," I said. t i "You're right sir, it is. And to jhink this was the very last house he at, and my husband the very 7-aet man he spoke to afore he was killed." "Indeed. Then is your husband the gameteeper ? I've heard the country folk talking," I said, by way of ex planation. "Yes, be's the head gamekeeper, and has been this many a long year. It was often as his lordshiD came. You see, he was fond of dogs, and my man always has some good ones, sir." "It seems a puzzle who can have I Killed him. They say he had no eneaases ?" I said. "Praps not, as is known." "Then you thin-k he had some ? T suppose you mean the captain ?" "The captain ! It's not him as did it, I'll take my Bible oath. Some"p- times gentlemen is too fond of pre'.ty girls beneath them ; then they are lapt to get into trouble. Village lads —partie'lar pit lads—don't like to see .their betters taking what they count to them." "Oh, you think some one was jealous of his attentions to a pretty girt ?" . "Well, folks cannot be blmd. Not fchat I wonld say anything ill of the poor young lord." "Was he often with this girl ?" . "Eh, that he was a while back ! He was her shadow. But I've seen fthem less together these • last few pnoTiths, and she's looked sadder like. .'■She's a rare beauty, and proud as a Joeacpek with' the lads about." --"What sort of a girl is she ?" "A tall, fair lass—straight as an narrow. Now, if she'd let you paint ;her. it would perhaps make your for-, jfcune." "I -must see about it. But what is 1 .*b.er name ?" "Mary Hirst, and she lives the 'tother side of the dene. But I've no /business to talk about her. My man Jtold me I was to mind naught about -her slipped out to the police, or it •would get into the papers and cast a slur on the young lord. Not but . what T fancy it's known he was 'gay Hn his ways." ■ "I won't tell the police what you say, and I'm much obliged to you for directing me." And with these few ;wofd« I turned away. Would it prove that the murder /• frad been the worki of some jealous Hft^ ? It might be ; but whoever had ilone the deed was a good shot, and iaew both the place and his lord;3hip*s habits well. One thing struck me —namely, that very few of the working folk about ascribed it to the captain. Very soon the path became so narrow that I had to bestow all my attention on it, or I should have 'slipped into the stream ; besides, it was almost like walking on ice, bein • greasy with mud and fallen leaves. At last I reached the spot where the murder had been committed, and I stood still. "If. the captain shot him, his tale about the moon being behind a cloud is a fiction ; but in the moonlight it jvouM be easy. It's a strange thing Ac bullet has not been found !" I -oliloquized, as I reared mv oas^l md things against the tree with the intention of examining the stream. All at once I noticed a lot of tiny lolfis in the bark of the tree, and on sxanruirng them fo-Tid they were bul«t marks. Trainee: my knife, I succeeded in dig-gine out first one and :hen another, until I had got twentytwo bullets. Comparing them care-

fully, I found that they were two sizes, being twelve of one size, and ten of the other. However none of the marks appeared to me to be of very recent date, and from the direction the bullets had taken in the tree, I came to the conclusion that the party firing them had not done so from the footpath, but from the high bank on the other side of the stream in which the body was found. It now occurred to me it was possible that the person who had shot his lordship had not met him on the path, as was supposed, but had been hiding behind some small trees on the bank. Evidently some one had been making a target of the tree, and if they had practised in the daytime must have been seen ; and even at night it would have been almost impossible to escape notice. One thing was certain :If the person who had previously fired those bullets had shot his lordship, it had been a carefully preconcerted murder. My ' work must be to find out who had fired those ' bullets. Putting them carefully in my pocket, I walked slowly on. ■ CHAPTER V. MARY HIRST. Passing the place where I had yesterday entered the dene, I kept in a j straight course for some distance without meeting any one. Very soon I came to a bridge which crossed the stream. It was formed of a couple of planks placed on supports, with a hand rail at one side. I paused, uncertain whether to go right on or cross the bridge ; then I decided upon the latter course. Going carefully across, as it was wet and slippery, I turned in the direction I had come— only I was now on the opposite side of the stream. After walking for a short distance I noticed two cottages perched high above me. "Perhaps Mary Hirst lives there," I thought ; and resolving to ascertain, if possible, I climbed the steep bank. On reaching the top I noticed a small wooden gate leading on to a path, and I judged it was a near cut from the cottages to the dene. As I opened it, I saw on a nail near the bottom of it a small piece of bright blue print, with a white spot on it. Mechanically stooping, I picked it up, and, without thinking what I was doing;, put it in my pocket ; then closing the gate after me, I ascended a narrow path between some vegetable gardens and the bank. After going a few yards the path diverged on to another much broader which led down to the cottages. The front of the nearest one looked over the dene, but at the side was the entrance, and one window containing ginger beer, biscuits, etc. Over the door a sign was placed, on which was the name "Margaret Bell," and a little lower another sign informed passers-by that tea or hot water could be obtained there. "That's not Hirst's !" I thought ; and going a few steps, I came to the adjoining cottage, which faced the high road, from which it was divided by a good-sized piece of smooth greensward. It was evidently a fairsized cottage, there being two windows downstairs and two up, and I noticed they were adorned with white curtains, and that the house looked scrupulously clean. Turning along a narrow path which ran under the windows, I approached the door and knocked. In a minute it was opene 1 by a woman of about fifty. She lookled neat and clean, and in her time must have been a handsome woman, but now her face wore an anxious, worried expression. "May I come in and rest ? I have been exploring the dene, and am tired." For a second she looked inclined to refuse, then said : "Yes, sir ; step in." | The. door opened on to, a little | square. The stairs ascended steeply in front, and at one side was a door which the woman entered. As I followed her in, she said : "You won't mind sitting here, sir ; it's only the kitchen. We've a room through it, but there's no fire in it, just now." I assured her that T should be glad to rest in the kitchen, saying how very comfortable it looked. "It's well enough, sir ; but the place wants a good cleaning, and I cannot get Mary—that's my daughter —to do a stroke. She's all out of sorts like. Not but what there's been enough to upset one this week. I suppose you've heard of the murder, sir ?" | "Yes, it is the talk all about 1 here." ; "You're right, sir. I'm sure it gave me a turn when I heard of it, and thought it had been my husband's lot to find him, as he's often out j early in the morning. You see he's woodman to the marquis." iAt that moment the door opened, and a girl entered. She was tall and well-developed, with an ease in her movements noticeable in one ~f her Position. Her skin was of almost pearly whiteness, with a faint tinge of colour in her cheeks, whilst her oyes were of a peculiar violet bins, aiul shaded by l O ng lashes. A quantity of beautiful auburn hair was plaited neatly o n her head, being , i'rawn higher, and with more attempt at following the fashion, thin one would have expected to see in a village girl. As she came forward T noticed she wore a simple lilac print dress ; but it fitted well, and her linen collar was white as snow. She started on .seeing a stranger, and the colour in her chee'-s deepened, nVMinsr to bar bea'ity. Unconsciously my thoughts wa-ndrml to Miss Lntimer. The murdered man was said to have- admired both girls. 1 did not wonder, for they both wrr remarkably beautiful, yet in such opposite styles. There was a srentleo,;3--: in this: ■■■];■■] thM.v rhe lady lacked. Still I fancied T could

rra«e incicatlonß or firmness, possibly of obstinacy, about toe mouth. "Here's a gentleman wants to rest a bit, Mary," said her mother. She made no reply, but went to a table at the side of the kitchen, and began paring potatoes in a listless sort of way. "I suppose the young lord would be much liked about here?" 11 said to the elder woman. "Yes, he was mostly well liked," but I observed her tone lacked heartiness, and, watching the girl, I saw her bosom heave quickly. "Then what can have been the motive for the murder ?'* "The Lord only knows," said the mother. "It is a strange thing no one should have been seen lurking about —poachers, or such like." "It's strange—very strange ! Yet my Tom says he's certain he heard the shot fired. He was in bed laid up with a quinsy." "Has he been bad long ?" I inquired. ! "Since last Friday ; but he would Igo to-day, though he's not fit to work." "What made him think it was the shot which killed his lordship ?" "Why, he says it was sharp and quick, and came from a part of the dene he'd never heard one come from at night." "He didn't get up and see if anything was wrong ?" "Not him, he was too bad. Why, it was all he could do to swaller ; he couldn't even call me to take him a drink, though he was nigh dying for it. I thought Mary was with him, and there she was wandering off to Bewley." "You've forgot, mother, it was the night before that I went out," said the girl, quickly. "No I haven't ; my memory lg as good as yours any day, and I know it was that nig-ht, because I was so vexed as you hadn't brought some sausages home as it was the day for Sarah Dukes makin' 'em. Then you tore your frock, too, and T couldn't get you to mend it, because you were carrying on so after we heard of the murder." Then the woman stopped suddenly, adding, in a changed voice : "I guess it never will mend now, seeing such a piece has gone out of it, and so diffioult to match as them prints often are." "Was it an uncommon one ?" I ventured to ask. "Nothing extra. Just a dark blue, with a white spot. But if they've sold the lot out, there won't be any matching it." "That's awkward. But a pretty girl would look well in patchwork," I said, looking at Mary. "You see, I'm an artist, so you will excuse me admiring you." I fancied she looked relieved on hearing I was an artist, but she said nothing. "I am staying at New Bewley, and I came through the dene. Is there any other way back ?" "Oh, yes—there's the roadway. But the dene is the nearest." "And didn't you see or hear anything when you came through the dene on Monday night ?" I suddenly asked the girl. "I came the road way," she said, quickly, tacitly admitting she was out on Monday night. "Well, you'll not go out again yet a while at night, if T know it —tearing your dress like that, and hardly worn it at all," said her mother. "I don't care if I never go out again," the girl said, wearily ; and there was a ring of suffering in. her voice. "It is a very sad thing—they suspect the gentleman's cousin," I said. "He's not done it," said the girl, almost scornfully. "Well, it looks like it, anyway." "Not to any one that has seen Captain Neville about." "No ; he doesn't seem like one to do a murder," said her mother. "Well, I heard the police suspected him," I said, hoping to draw her out. "The police never do see far," she said, quickly. "Well, if they arrest him, he may be able to prove his innocence." "Do you think they will ?" she asked, eagerly. "I shouldn't wonder." Then I added : "I am going to sketch a lot of views of the dene, and I think I shall chose the scene of the murder for one. It would make an effective picture, and sell well." "For God's sake, stop!" she wailed. "I beg your pardon, I am sorry I have pained you ; but we artists look at everything from one point of view." "Don't be a fool, Mary," said her mother. "I only wish I was a portrait painter," I continued, "then I should ask to be allowed to paint you ; but that is not my line." "She had her picture done at York, sir," said her mother proudly. "It was a photograph," said the girl ; and with these words she left the room. "Did you live at York ?" I inquired. "Oh, no ; but I've a sister lives them, and Mary went to stay with her over a year ago, and it was then she had her pictur' took." T was not anxious to leave until I had seen the girl again, and as I was wondering what to talk about, I noticed some beautiful old china on a delft-rack at one end of the room. "I see you have some ancient china," I said, rising and going towards it. "Yes, it belonged to my grandmother, and it is rare. The young lord was in hero once, and lie said it would fetch a lot if it was sold ; but it's nothing like so old as some Margaret Bell next door has."

"Indc d ! I should like to see it."! "She'll only be too glad to show I it you. She's as proud as a peacock about it." ; "Then I will step in next door. '; Perhaps I shall see you again while ' I am knocking about the dene ?" i "Very likely, sir." I I left the house, and turning the ! corner, reached the other cottage : door, and in reply to my knock an j old woman appeared. "I hear you have some beautiful I old china. Would you mind letting me look at it ?" "Are you wanting to buy it ?" she asked. "No, I only wish to see it. I am an artist, and admire such things." "A hartist !Do you mean a man as paints pictures ?" "Yes ; and I am going to do several small ones of the dene." "And I shouldn't wonder if you put this house in one of them," she said. "Very likely, madam." "I see. Well, a man as paints will understand these things ;so come in, hinny. But mind, they're not to sell, you know." "Of course not ; you value them too much." "I should say I do. They're not my grandmother's, like hers next door, but my great-great-great-grandmo-ther's. In fact, I shouldn't be wrong if I said these cups were the .identical cups Noah drank out of in the Ark ;" and she held one of very ancient make towards me. I dulj admired them, and all her stock in succession, puffing her up to the skies. At last I ventured to hint I was hungry, and wished to buy a few biscuits and have a glass of milk, if she could supply me. Placing her china carefully in its place, she got what I required, and as I sat down by the fire I inquired if $he had lived there long. "Seventy-two years last Christmastime and my father and mother before me. My mother came here as a bride, and they had a large family, but there's only me and my brother left, and we've lived together all our lives." "Does he work for the marquis ?" "He did ; but he's so subject to rheumatics that he's pensioned off. He cannot even keep the little vegetable garden in order ;so I have to do the main of it. And when the folks come picnicking to the done in summer, and come for their tea here, I have to work, I can tell you." "You would know the young lord, I suppose ?" I said, munching my biscuit as an excuse for remaining. "Yes, I knew him, and his cousin, too." "The one they say has done the murder ?" "Them as says that is fools to say it. If Captain Neville did it, he's been provoked into it, and I, for one, would be sorry to put a rope round i his neck." "Then you think he did it ?" "I'm not saying so ; but as you're a stranger here and can do him no harm, I will say as it's strange he was shot just where they was prac- : tising up to a month ago." j "Practising what ?" "Why, shooting with pistols, of course. My brother used to tell 'em who'd hit the tree, and keep about in case he was wanted." , "But who was it practised ?" I ■ asked. [ "Why, there was Lord Bewley, and his sister, Lady Mary, the captain, and that beautiful young lady from the Grey House as it's all been about." "What ! Do you mean to say they had shooting parties, and made the tree a target ?" "That's exactly it. One day in early September my brother Jack was walking along there, and he sees the ladies—that's Lady Mary and the two Miss Latimers —sitting on the bank sketching. That is, two of 'em were sketching ; the blind one, Sir Thomas's daughter, was d Tin?; nothing. Just as he came near, they were joined by the young lord and Captain Neville. It seems the gentlemen had been partridge shorting, and were carrying their guns ; so Miss Llatimer—the beauty—began chaffing that she could shoot as well as them and they said she'd best try, and. she could aim a t the tree. She did make an uncommon good hit, Jac'c said. Then Lady Mary tried but she could do nothing, and the upshot of it was that they arranged to have a shooting match next day, and the gentlemen were to bring pistols. Jacto had stood where they couldn't see him, listening to it all, and he said Lady Mary didn't se«m to like it much, but as the other lady wanted it, she gave in. Well, the next day Jack took care to be about at the time they'd fixed to begin, and they caught sight of him and asked him to call out which hit nearest a piece of card they had put on the tree. After they'd done, they planned another match, and even Lady Mary seemed to like it, so that in the end they had them reg'lar twice a week until a month ago, but they always had them in the morning, when there was no danger of strangers coming to picnic about." "And they commenced to Septem- '' her ?" "Yes, about the cartridge shooting ■ time." "Then it would be the end of September when they gave them up ?" "Yes, it was ;so as Jack says the captain had nearly a month's practice on that very spot." "And yet it may not have been him who shot Lord Bewley ?" said I. ' "I hope it wasn't ; but they'd been very jealous over the young lady. Jack saw that plain enough." ' ] "Which did she favour ?" ' "It was hard to say ; but my brother fancied she liked the captain the : best, and wanted the other one for his money." . \

"Was the captain a good shot ?" "Splendid. He beat the young lord, who was reckoned a good sportsman. He was a nice young gentleman—pleasant and free, but too gay, and a bit too fond of the lasses. There was that poor girl next door—he was set on her ! They were always wandering in the dene in the evenings till Miss Latimer came. Then he didn't go with her half as much. Once or twice, Jack said, she came and stood where she could see them shooting, and he said her face was a picture. She looked so mad when Lord Bewley spoke to Miss Latimer. I don't hold with the way he acted ; but poor young gentleman, he's g.one to his account, and she'll forgive him now he's stiff ami cold." "She is a very beautiful girl," I said. "Yes, but she's been a trifle high since his lordship noticed her, and won't look at the lads about." "Perhaps some of them were jealous and helped his lordship off ?" "Not a bit of it, though T should have thought their Tom might have had a hand in it ; but he was laid up, and I reckon it was a mercy he had that quinsy, or he would very like have got into trouble, as he'd been swearing awful things about his lordship walking Mary out. It seems he'd met them in the dene a week or so back." "Do you really think he was laid up ?" I asked, significantly. "I don't think: nothing about it—T know he was ; because I went in to see him, and as I turned the corner I heard a shot fired. Then, when I got into the Hirsts' cottage, I stayed a few minutes with the father and mother, a nd when she took me to his bed room he was nigh dead with thirst—it was quinsy as ailed him, and his mother thought Mary was with him, and she'd run out, ami he had not been able to make any one hear, poor lad. Not that Mary was so much to blame. She'd put a cup with some milk in it near the bedside, handy, but he'd knocked it over." "Well, the murder has been a very strange affair, and has a queer look for some one." "You're right in that. But here's my brother." As she spoke a man entered. His tall, bent form bore more traces of age than his sister's. "This is a gentleman, a hartist, come to look at our old china," she said. "Then I'm sure she'll be proud to show it, sir," „he said, as he advanced and sank into a chair near the fire. "My rheumatics is bothering me to-day," he added, as he rubbed his leg gently. "It's a very painful complaint," I remarked. "You're right, sir, it is ; but old folks must expect to suffer. When we see the young ones cut off sudden we wonder, but it's natural for old ones to ail and drop off, like the withered leaves off the trees." "You're a good age," I said. "Two years younger than me ; but then, bless you, one woman has more life than two men," interposed his sister. "Still, I'm an old man, turned seventy, and in all those years I've lived in this house, played in the dene, as a boy, and worked as woodman hereabouts ; yet till this week) I've never known foul play in it. But there's been an awful deed done last Monday—a cruel murder. I guess you have heard of it. And to think," he continued, before I could reply, "I was coming up the path to my door when I heard the shot fired .'" "DM you think it was something uncommon ?" "I wondered who was shooting at that time ; but as for murder, such, a thing never entered my head, and, as it ; was a mild night, I stood in the doorway smoking my pipe." "Did you see the captain pass ?" "No, I didn't ; but he may have passed while I was indoors filling my pipe, a nd as the baccy jar was empty I had to fill it, and when I got my pipe alight I went back to the door, but I never saw a soul pass except the lass next door, and she came up the narrow path from the gardens." "Do you mean the path with a gate into the dene ?" "Yes. Why, bless me, she may have been down there—l never thought of that," he said, reflectively ; "and now I think of it she was running quick like. I wonder if she'd seen anything ?" "Not her. She'd have raised the neighbourhood if she'd seen any one touch him," said his sister. "Poor lass ! She fainted right of! when she heard of it, and when she came round she sat mute like." "It would be moonlight when you stood at the door ?" "Yes, all the time but a bit when the moon went under a cloud ; but that was while I filled my pipe." "Well, there's an old saying, 'Murder will out ;' so I suppose this will." "I'm not so sure of it. When big folks are mixed up in fit, things are hushed up sometimes." "There is some truth in what you say ; but as it's near my dinnertime, I must be going. It is a good walk to the Black Bull at Old Bewley." "So it is, sir." Wishing them good morning, I left the cottage, and as I descended the path the woman shouted : "I'll let you look at the china any , time, as you're an hartist. And mind yon puts our house in the pictur'." T nodded my head, and walking, rapidly, soon reached the inn, where I found my dinner waiting, to be served. (To be Continued.)