My Dead Client.

Mount Ida Chronicle, Volume III, Issue 163, 19 April 1872, Page 6

My Dead Client.

. A Stoby told by the Ghost of a Bab bister who had the ghost of a Business.

-•«.-•. (Concluded from our last.)

On that night the storm raged on. The papers, the next morning, were full of accounts of great damage that had been done by the violence of the wind; and its fury had not moderated when I walked down to my chambers.

I was busily engaged in the perusal of a case, which had been sent for my opinion, when I fancied I heard the sound of a confused murmuring, and, of many footsteps upon the staircase. A minute or two afterwards there was a lurching at my door. ~lt was : opened by my clerk. I heard a whispering outside, and then my. clerk came hurriedly into my room, with a horrified expression on his face, and said —

"It is. the Thames Police, sir—they have brought something for you to see":" " Let them bring it in," lanswered, rather as'tpriished." " ,

Great Heaven! What's this ? Four men bring; in a stretcher, upon which is lying something covered, up. "Beg your pardon, sir," said one of the men. "We found this here in the river this morning." He partially removes the. covering.

My God! It is-the same woman who called" 6h7me nearly ten months ago, and left a packet in my' charged " W?iy hare they brought her here ?" I ask. ..,-..'

"On searching her, this hit of paper turned up." The man handed me a crumpled piece of paper, on which I could read these words:—"lf ever my body should be found drowned, let it be taken to the "chambers of Mr. Grantley, in the Temple. He will know what to do."

"Policeman," I began, "I have only seen this unhappy creature once in my life; and I cannot imagine " "Beg your pardon, sir," interrupted the policeman; "but you are a lawyer, and you know as there must be an inquest. Wouldn't it be as well to reserve anything you have to say for that occasion ?"

I saw at once what the man hinted. I might be implicated in her death. So I merely observed—

"All I say is, that I have not a notion who she is,, nor who her friends are. You Lad better "take the body to the usual place; and I shall be quite ready to attend the inquest,"and*give all the information in my power." *

Silently the men bore away their ghastly burden, and I was left alone. JSfow, then, to open that packetl was to read the next time she who had given it to me should be in my room. She had come to me again ; and'l began to suspect that I- understood the motives of my Dead Client. I took the packet from its place of safety, broke the seal, and read as follows: ~

"If you keep the promise which t shall' ask yon to make when I place this paper in your hands, yon will not read this letter till lam dead..'. If Ido not die in the manner in which I firmly believe that I shall die, it is possible you may never read it at all; but I know 'what must happen, sooner or later, and I leave to you the task of first avenging me. " You will say—' What has this woman to do with, me? Why am Ito avenge her?' 1 My answer is—You were once George Marr's best-loved friend.

"Six years .ago, I was a happy and light-hearted girl. All my future life seemed to smile upon me, and I had a happy home. But love came to me; and, insensibly at first, all my happiness faded away. . It was at a small party in the

country that I first met George Marr and Denis" Hilton. Both - of them paid me great attention; but I liked tlie former, and disliked tlie latter. Time passed on, and George and I grew to love eachotlier; but suddenly my father took a violent prejudice against him; declared that George had been making love to me against his—my father's-, desires, and forbade him to enter the house again. So strict a watch was kept on me, that 1 had no chance of communicating with him; and for six months I saw and heard nothing of him. Then Mr. Hilton began to come frequently to our house ; my father liked him, and ! was constantly throwing him into my company. He was kind and gentle in his behaviour; and sometimes he would talk about George, but it was in a reserved and cautious manner: but at last I learned from him that George was married. What could I do but scatter to the wind my shattered love ? What could Ido but accept Denis Hilton for my husband,; a few months afterwards, when urged passionately by him and strongly by my father ?

"I could not love him—there was something in his nature that prevented .nie from doing that; yet I strove to be a ; good and obedient wife' to him; and, for a few weeks, I believe I, was contented. But I- soon discovered that he had: a terrible propensity for drink ; and though he kept a ; careful guard oyer himself while hewasjcourting me—and for 'a, short time after our marriage—the old habit. soon came ;back upon him, and night after night he would come.home terribly intoxicated ; and when in this state he would be madly jealous about me, and would fancy that there was some one concealed in a cupboard, or in one of the rooms, and would compel me to go through the house with him, and search every place.

" I was sitting solitary, that one November evening—crying, I think—mourning for the lost happiness of earlier days, when there came.a. gentle knodk at the dobr. I ran to open it, and there I found George Marr. • -

"' George Marr !' I exclaimed,.' What are you come for.?'

"'To see you, Fanny,' he*replied. 'I passed you accidentally the other day. You did not see me.' 'I watched you in here. I had not time to try and see you. then, as I was engaged! May I not come in?' ■•• ..-...-.- : : ' - :;

" 'You can come in, if it will afford you any pleasure,' I answered.. 'I should scarcely, think iti.could do that: ; What makes you wish to see:me again ?' "" " ( What makes me? .Oh, Fanny! I have never ceased to love you.' "We were now in the sitting-room. " ' Hush, Mr. Marr. How dare, you speak to me like this ?'

" ' Why not, Fanny ? Good Heaven! -you are not married ?'

"'I am—to Denis Hilton. What reason had you to suppose that I should keep true to you, when you were so soon false to me?' * ? ' False to you! ' Never, for an instant' "'George, they told me that you were married. ..When I learned that you.had so forgotten me,"l;abandoned all hope.' "'Who told you this.?';.•■/ "f My husband— Denis Hilton.' He told an infamous lie !' "' Perhaps he- djd, : ,piit. : it answered his purpose,' said another voice, in mocking tones.

i "I had left the street door open, and i Denis himself had staggered in, just sober enough to understand what was going on.. 'VI told you, Master George,' he continued, ''that you weren't always going to have it all your own way with the girls.' " Denis went back into the passage, and closed the front door • came back into the little parlor, and closed that door too.

And now- you-think you- are going to make-up to the old love, do you?'' "" "■' l say that you are a scoundrel, Denis. I care not so much' for your having tricked me, as for your being her husband,, and showing yourself before her the drunken brute you-are/ " ' What! ■ Say that again: Drunken brufce, eh? How often, have you been here before, you Marr, when-1 have been out, eh ?' !.,.-..

Never, before this evening. I have been abroad. " I never even knew that you were hi am ed".' " * You lie, and T will have -your life for itr ~ /■;' . .; •.

"Denis sprang furiously upon him, and there was a short scuffle. They both fell Denis uppermost. They fell close beside the fireplace ; and Dehis v seizing the poker, struck George Marr thrice - heavily upon the forehead. .< . .

"-'You'll not come-again, -I think,'"he muttered savagely, after the last'blow. "'What have you done, Denis.?' I

shrieked. , ■ . "He looked up at me, with a malignant smile upon his face; ....--•;, " ' You and I have killed him,', he replied, in a low tone. ,

|. " ' Killed him! j! I have done nothing. 1 You villain ! I will call the police:' " ' JSTo you won't/- he said-rising. "What had- happened seemed t6 have-quite sobered, him. ' Sooner th : an that you should do that,-I would serve ,you the. same! Don't be a fool,- Fanny—the law will- believe you to.be as guilty as.l am. See here,' and he took a pocket-book from' George Marr s breast; " there are plenty of bank notes inside. .We are known to be wretchedly poor. If this is discovered we shall both be hung.'" He hissed' this last-word'into my;ear.' 'Come, we; must hide it away'.-' _ "

"Hung!. I believed him. I believed that I should be thought-to be his'accomplice in.the murder-;" and I feared to die. Oh, what a coward I'have been ! I have done worse than die every day since then; and yet—the. trial! the. sentence ! the scaffold!

"All that; night, nearly;' we worked stealthily—at least he worked, while I,lay on the ground' close to him,; and-he removed, after great-.difficulty,, three flagstones from the floor of the little cellar ; dug out a grave beneath; and there, at this moment, lies George Marr I "I have little more to tell. I vowed that vengeance ; should one day overtake Denis; but I dared not trust myself to do the task, for fear of its failing through my weakness. had often, in happy days -gone .by, he.Ard George speak of-you, MrGrantley, as a brave and honorable man; and to you I commit the trust of retribution. I know that Denis fears : that I shall not keep the secret.. • I know that, he meditates my death. I.know that, he will one day kill me, and throw mj body into

the Thames ; for lie lias often threatened it. WhUe I live) my'lips are sealed. When I am dead, let justice have r its • COUrse. ; \ : ,;^.p ANKY ;"

The number of the house, and the haine of the street where the murder was .committed, were accurately given; as was a definition of the spot wliere the remains o f my poor friend would he found.- . \

The advertisements for George Marr had been fitfully continued-; and I saw that all rhad to do now; was to place this document in the hands of Messrs. Bingley and Bell. Without loss' of timer I ried off to Gray's Inn, that a buttoned-up individual was following, my •footsteps. ' TKe' police/ no doubt,., vvere keepipg an eye upon me, in consequence of the direction that the body should be brought to my chambers. ;

Mr. Bell-read the document attentively. "T seeno reason to doubt the genuineness of this," he said. . "We must instruct

the poHde'to-vratcFtHe house at .Chelsea, e -*% **"a ß ! soon as war-rant;-and-then we must lay* hold? of this infamous Denis:llilton." ! V """ ' T '... ''/' "By Jove!"'l exclaimed—"l had forgotten. I saw him at Dover lasfmght. He was evidently intending to cross?lbut the rough weather prevented' the ' mail 'packet' from- starting.". ■,';' '■ , ? ";', '*"*' " Then we must stop him at once: The Wind abated, its .violence,' an<i it is quite, possible.the*'boat' may not have started yet:" -• •■ ~ ■ •■ '* ; " .-•'''' ,l s"," f - f We, went up to the South-Eastern.Bail-way station. '"There we learned, 'm/a' few i minute's, by telegraph, not yet e ";l)over. ."'[.Mr. Bell, myself, and']Wo,'police,. officers.\in plain clothes,.went down special'train: Arrived arDover, about theirinquiries-; and-Mr: Bell and I walked upon.;the pier. r ,". The -pier was'not at' thattime," nearly.finislied ;> but,' count'of .the the -weather,;the.' works were for the time in front of usV towards \ the end, a" muffled .figure, wftch;i thought 1.-recog-nised. ' : .-.", . " >!;.■-,» •- -;

- "There he : is," .^wHispered-^"there stands iDenis."... <- /. -.;- /-,<.:.- -i .-.--

" And here comes the detectives," said Mr.,Be,li: J . ' '.''/■■'''■

" They had evidently learned where they • were they had des- - cribed. /It-was arranged' between,us3)iat; -I should .'go' up" to Jum'/.firsV;- and-so-I' rwalked on'ahea'd of the others. 'The murderer/was a pile of massive ' - stones—his back towards me- ; p passed him, turned back, anji ; looked bim full in the face.

- "Denis" Hilton," I said, "do you remember me?" •-.-.. ;.

He bent his eyes upon me ! ; and I never shall forget the expression in them. I saw in a mement that no law could harm the man—for he had become insane I : ~ After gazing at me for a minute or two he said— • . - -

" How do you do, G-rantley ? lam glad to see you. I have a strange thing to tell you. You se"e : this whirling, raging, boiling sea? You would not think'that a small craft could live in'it. for a moment,-, would you? And yet,; all yesterday afternoon, all last night, and all this morning, my wife : and' Gf-eorge Marr have been-

in a boat tossing about ;the. ; pier... The waves break around"them and over'them ; but they will not .sink ! If there was a

third in the boat, I think they would !" He said these words quite calmly, and looked me full in the face.- a wild and awful cry, he sprang from my; side, and leaped into the foaming'water." Once only-we saw his livid upturned face-, and then my-Dead Client's business was completed.