CHAPTER II BERISFORD MINOR.

Te Aroha News, Volume III, Issue 154, 15 May 1886, Page 5

CHAPTER II BERISFORD MINOR.

At the head of the village street, and sur rounded by a dense grove of evergreens, there stood a large, gloomy house, known far and wide as " Berisford Manor." it was a famous old house j and in that romantic region, where the mountain people still have impliet faith in the legend of Kip Van Winkle, wonderful stories were told about "the Manor," which was built a generation before the Revolutionary War. By the Hudson and aloag the mountains, there had been, at one time, immense estates I owned by the old Dutch Patroons ; but Berisford Manor was English m its conception, and every occupant since its original founder had been a Berisford. The early American Berisfords had been reckless, godless men, whose wild doings were and are still spoken of in whispers about mountain hearthstones in the winter time. The Beriefords were warm friends and bitter foes; men who took the law into their own hands, and who, in the wild whirl of passions unrestrained, did not hesitate to shed human blood. Dr. Berisford's grandfather fought on the side of the Colonies in the war for Independence, not so much from a sense of patriotism, as that he loved anarchy and the excitement of battle, a3 an opium eater loves his drug. After the American conflict was over, this Hotspur went to France, and became a moving spirit in the Revolution. When Napoleon began the conquest that was to elevate himself to the throne and place Europe at hia feet, General Berisford went to India. Here, at his own expense, he organised a corps of Sepoys— infantry, cavalry and artillery— and for ten years he managed, as a free lance, to make war profitable by hiring out his mercenaries to do the fighting of the ambitious but effeminate princes of that distracted land. Laden with Hindoo money and Hindoo spoils, General Berisford at length returned to America. He found the wife, whom he had loved after ai s strange fashion, dead, ana his two sons clergymen. He suon became weary of peace, and disgusted with civilisation. Transferring all his property to his sons, the general went to South America, where he was slain in the effort to free Peru from the yoke of Spain. The general had eight grandsons, of whom Dr. Berieford was one. Out of the eight, two entered the ministry and died childless j one studied law, and was lost on the steamship President going to Europe. Four of the grandsons inherited the reckless Berisford blood, and died violent deaths in their own and other lands. There was always a doubt about the iate of one of this warlike quartette, a handsome, daring fellow named Wyman Berisford, who fled to the western wilda at the age of twenty-two, having killed a man in a duel. Wyman was the doctor's brother ; and of his own immediate family the doctor himself was the only/ one that married j and so far aa he knewi his daughter Miriam and himself were now/the only survivors of the Berisforde in the direct line.

Dr, Berisford was a widower, and after the death of his wife some six years before this, he gave up his practice in New ,York and made his permanent home at the manor, where hitherto ha had only spent the summer month?. It is necessary to state thia much of Dr. Bensford's antecedents, the better toappreciat© the strange events we are about to narrate * There was a pretty general belief among those who knew the family that every Berisford must be either an angel or a devil, and not from choice, but from a law of heredity that controlled his life. Dr. Berieford was a man of great culture and unbounded philanthropy. His life and much of his wealth were spent in doing good, so that all who knew him were sure that he belonged to the angel branch of this remarkable family, At the age of twenty, Miriam Berisford was as radiantly beautiful a girl as ever looked down on the HudBon, or up at the Catskills. The recognition of thia rare beauty was more than local. Gallants from the city made pilgrimages to Willowemoc, in the hope of seeing Miriam Berisford ; and those favoured with an in troduction referred to it long afterwards as one of the happy events of thoir livos. Ib would be woree than useless to attempt a catalogue of Miriam's features, and so hopelops to describe them. To say her eyes were dark, her hair a Ins trous black, and her regular features a rich olive, would hardly convey a conception of the red ripe lips, the perfect teeth, the set of the dainty head on the sloping shoulders, and above all, of the soulful expression that glowed from every feature. Though so much alone in the great, gloomy mnnor housa. Miriam Berisford never felt lonely. About her were plenty of book?, rare pictures, and curios and trophies collected in many lands. She was a great student, without being in the slightest degree pedantic ; she loved music and could interpret it ; and ehe found delight in transferring to canvas the beautiful ecenes about her ; so weariness or monotony was out of the question with her. "Madame Barren, a French lady, had been for years Miriam's governess and companion ; and now the madame— as her pupil had gone beyond her-mado herself useful by exercising a general supervision over the doctor's household. Madame Baron was a widow, and hor dark features and white r air gave her the appearance of a woman of at least fifty, but she stoutly maintained that she was not so much by at least ten years. Mary Brady, the cook ; Hans Munn, the coachman and gardener; and Minnie, a young chambermaid, mdc up the other regular occupants of Berisford Manor. The day following the finding of the unknown man's body in the mountains, the country coroner came to Willoivemoe to hole an inquest. The doctor, the men who had gone with him to fetch the body in, and The Jooke, wero present aa witnesses. The horrible has ever a strange fascination for the simple-minded. Down from the mountains, that in the distance looked to be aninhabited, men, women and children poured into the village, all anxious to see the face of the dead man ; and aU firmly convinced that the solemnlooking jury he had summoned to help would be able not only to tell who the unfortunate man wa?, but the name- of the wretch who had deprived him of life. From many of the distant hotels and summer bo rdinsr-houses visitors came to Willowemoc out of sheer curiosity, though they would never have dreamt of doing such a thing in the cities where they had their permanent houses Among all these people Dr. Berisford was conspicuous. His stately form, noble features, and the simple dignity of his bearing would have made him a marked man in any gathering ; but interest in him was increased to those who knew him, or knew of him, by the strange family history that lay behind him The village school voorr, in which the inquest was held, was crowded to suffocation. Inthe presence of all, theeoronerexamined the dead man's pockets, and soon made it evident that plunder was not the object of the assassin, Agold watch was brought to light, on the inner case of which was the inscription, " To Frank, from his affectionate brother Clarence." From another pocket a well-filled wallet was taken out ; in addition to a considerable sum of money, this confained letters und cards that proved conclusively that the murdered man's name was Frank Ash worth. On being directed by the coroner, Dr. Berisford bared the white breast of the murdered man, that the jury might see the red, triangle stab thathadwrough thisdeath. The form was that of an athlete— so that his falling without a strugglo showed that his assailant had leaped on him from the cover of the bushes, and struck him down with one blow. The face, though heavily bearded, was that of a man of about thirty, and it showed even at death those i?igns of manly boauty that -must have been conspicuous in lifo. The Jooke was the first witness examined. He said that; he was searching through the hills for a swarm of bees, that had escaped that morning from hi 3 hives, when he came upon the body. The re3t of hi 3 evidence did not vary an iota from the report made at the post-office, when he came to the village the day before to announce his discovery. One remarkable feature of hia testimony was that when tho coroner put to him the usual preliminary question : " What is your name ?" he replied : "I am known as 'The Jooke ' go let it stand." Dr. JSerisford was tho last to give his testimony He told about the finding of the body, and how he and his companions brought it to the village. Dr. Berisford do you think this was a case of suicide ?" asked tho coroner, " I do not," was the reply. 41 What are your reasons for thinking tho man did not kill himself?" As there had not been a murder committed in that region for a generation, the coroner had made up hia mind that this was a suicide. "If this were a suicide," said the doctor, the weapen would have been found near the body— l should say, « in the body,' for after that blow entered the heart the man would have been powerless to withdraw the blade." •'Was it an ordinary blade?" "It was not." " Have you any idea of the kind of blade it was ?" "Yes. It was a peculiar form of kreese, such as is used by the Thugs in a certain part of India." u . What is a kreese?" " A sort of Oriental dagger ; this one had three edges." " Did you ever see one, Doctor ?" "Yes. When a child I had one in, my handp,'it was- brought from India by my grandfather'; butr rcannot rdcall 'having seen it since," eaid, the doctor reflectively,

"Ifc may -have be6n stolen,^ suggested the cordnor. ' ' &fc) - « • That is quite possible. " "Have you 'any suspicion as to the person that might have taken it ?" "I do not say that it was etolen. I have not given the weapon a thought for many years, and it was only recalled to my mind by eeeing his strange wound," said the doctor, pointing down at the red scar on the white breast. At this stage of the proceedings a tall, handsome young man, with a pale, eager face, made his way through the crowd in the aisle. " Hello 1 What do you want ?" demanded the coroner. The young man did not aeem to hear the I question. j He staggered to the front, where the body lay on a raised platform. He looked at it for an instant, then fell beside it on his knees, calling out in a voice of agony : ♦•Frank! Oh God !my poor brother Frank !"