A CASUAL MEETING. TALES OF TO – DAY. A SERIES OF SHORT STORIES, A CASUAL MEETING.

Te Aroha News, Volume VI, Issue 372, 29 May 1889, Page 6

A CASUAL MEETING.

TALES OF TO - DAY. A SERIES OF SHORT STORIES,

BY GEORGE R. SIMS, Author of ' Rogues and Vagabonds, ' Three Brass Balls,' 'How the Poor Live,' 1 The Lights o' London,' &c, &c.

When" Edward Darvell was brought the next day before the magistrates he was fully prepared to explain how he became possessed of the bracelet, and he felt pretty easy in his mind ; as, of course, when the lady who had been injured recovered, she would be able to state that he had not been hhre r assailant, and would, of coursej acquit him of having robbed her. He had given a false name at the polico station, not wishing all the world to know he was wandering about in such a condition as to bo described as a tratnp. But when, to his utter amazement, he listened to the evidence as given by the police constable, and found that the lady who had not yet recovered consciousness was no other than Mrs Mortimer, and that he was to be remanded until she was able to appear and give evidence, he hardly knew what to do for the best. He at once jumped to the conclusion that what had befallen Mrs Mortimer was duo to her having met her husband. But just before he was ordered to be taken away, it occurred to the magistrate that io would bo as well, if the prisoner was to be connected with the crime, to prove that the bracelet found upon him was the property of the injured lady, and so tho lady's daughter, who was not in attendance, was sent for to identify the bracelet. When Belle was placed in the witnessbox and saw who the prisoner was, she uttered a cry of astonishment. 'You know the prisoner ?' said the ma^is* trate. ' Oh, yes,' she said, ' but there is some mistake, I am sure. Mr Darvell had nothing to do with this attack upon my mother.' * Darvell !' exclaimed the magistrate ; • that is not the name the prisoner is charged in.' ' It's the one the prisoner gave, your worship,' said the Inspector. Belle looked at Ned, and Ned at Belle — the same thought was in the mind of both. How much could either say without publishing'the family secret to the world ? • Is your name Darvell ?' said the magistrate, turning to the prisoner. ' Yes, your worship, it is. I didn't care to give it in connection with this charge, which I presumed would be disposed of today by the lady appearing and proving that we never met ye-terday afternoon at all.' 'You know this person, Miss Mortimer, 5 said the magistrate ; * perhaps you can tell us something about him.' ( I can only tell you that he is a gentleman and a friend of my family, and quite incapable of such an action.' ♦ But your mother is found lying on the ground insensible from a blow. There are sicns of a severe struggle, and this man is seen endeavouring toescape unseen through the wood. When arrested this bracelet (holding it up) is found upon him. Do you l'ecognise it ?' ' Oh, yes ! it is my mother's. She wore it yesterday.' ' Humph !' said the magistrate ; ' then if the prisoner's account is correct he picked it up some distance from where the struggle took place. How did it get there ?' • I saw it lying on the ground, your worship, and I picked it up.' The magistrate held a whispered conference with the Inspector who had charge of the case, and then he announced that looking at all the circumstances he thought the beet tbing would be to remand the prisoner vi.til the lady who had been attacked could give her version of the affair. So Ned Darvell was led away and poor Belle went home more terrified than ever. Her mother was seriously ill — the blow had rendered her completely unconscious and she was only slowly coming to her senses ; and Ned, her sweetheart, was a prisoner charged with the offence. She knew as well as if she had seen the affair what had happaned. Her father and mother had mst. There had been high words and her mother had been stiuclc. The bracelet had probably fallen from her mother's arm in going through the wood. How he'd come to be in the wood at tho time, and to have seen nothing of the struggle was of course a mystery which he alone could explain. Belle might have put a different complexion on the affair in Court, but she dreaded to make the scandal public property. She knew that it would be a terrible blow to her mother to have the cir cumstances known, and she. had read in Ned's quick glance when they met in Court that he too wished her to keep silence. Whichever way the poor girl looked at it ,she felt that it was a terribly awkward business — awkward for them aalandl — and she wondered how it would all end. It was two or three days after the first examination before the magistrate, before Mrs Mortimer was sufficiently recovered to converse. As soon as she was allowed bo talk she called Belle to her bedside. ' Belle, my dear,' she said, ' did that man who met you in the woods say that he was your father or that he came from your father?' ' He said that he v/as my father.' ' He is not, Belle ; our eecret is in the possession of someone who is using it for his own purpose. That man I never saw : before.' 'He is not my father V exclaimed Belle, with a little cry of relief: 'Oh, lam glad of that. But, "mamma, you must tell me all that happened ; you don't know how important it is.' ' I was late in getting to the wood that afternoon ; I was so afraid of being seen that I came a roundabout way under cover of the trees. When 'l reached the stile you were just running away, and the man you had been talking to I could not see, as he had followed you and your back was to wards me. I went after him, and he heard my "footsteps and turned, and then I saw that he was a st-anger to me. Instantly the truth flashed upon me. This -man had in some way discovered our secret and was trading on it. I understood why he wished to avoid seeing me. I knew at once that he had only been working upon you to getthis money out of you and that it was a fraud, and on tho impulse of the moment I seized him and called for help. Then he raised his fist and struck me down, and then I knew no more.' • Mamma, do you know who is charged with fche crime ?' ' Charged with the crime ! Who can be?' 'Ned!' •Mr Darvell?' 1 Yes, mamma, he is in custody for it. Ib seems he was in the wood that afternoon and picked up your bracelet, which you must have dropped. He was arrested and charged with having attacked you in order to rob you of that.' ' Edward Darvell was in fche wood at the time ? What could he be there for ?' 'Can't you guess, •mamma? Having, been this man's messenger opqp and know-

ing that he was trying to get money from me, Ned thought he might try again, and I suppose he went there to sco if anything happened,' j ' Yes,' said Mrs Mortimer, slowly, 'I i supposo that must have been it. But it was absurd to charge him with the de«d. He might have been in the wood, but I never saw him.' c You must let that be known at once, mamma.' ' O? course I shall do so, my dear, but we must be careful what we s iy. It isn't worth while to have it published all over the country that you were there to meet a tramp whom you believed to be your father and whom I believed to be my kusband.' Mrs Mortimer mended rapidly, and although still weak, was ablein a few days to attend at the police court, where her evidence that Edward Darvell was not the man who had"'a^tacked her was of course accepted by the 'magistrate, who discharged the prisoner, remarking at the same time that the police were perfectly justified in anesting him under all "the, circumstances of the case. ; - ,-'■', ■* When Ned was liberated he found himself a celebrity. The icport of fche t ease had attracted general attention. The' recognition of the seedy-looking individual in the dock as the friend of the family by MissMortimer, and the curious piece of c rcumstantial evidence of the bracelet, had been seized upon by the newspapers as attractive matter to work up for their readers. The 'Gentleman Tramp-w as the headline in one of the half - penny evening sheets, and under this heading the writer professed to give a full, true, and particular account of the life and career of the hero of 'The Highgate Wood Mystery.' The mystery was supposed to come in as the motive of the attack on Mrs Mortimer. She had not been robbed, as according to her own evidence the bracelet might have dropped off at the stile. As tho real culprit was not puisued or seen by anyone he was hardly likely, had he stolen the bracelet after leaving his victim senseless, to have thrown it away or to have carried it so carelessly as to loso it. The evening newspaper which went to the trouble of finding out all about Edward Darvell, his birth, parentage, "■etc., also discovered that he had been locked up t at Bowstreet, and that he passed a-|e,w days in the casual ward, and it went Vn. ,to"Jt»int that the clue to the ' mysterious;- -attack on a lady ' would be found in the' family Jhistory of the parties concerned. - ' '- A copy of the newspaper containing an account of the case came into old Mr Darvell's hands, and made him furiou?. He at once wrote a letter, which he took care should reach his son, informing him that if he was innocent he had only himself to blame for sinking to a position which would allow such a charge to be made against him, and he informed him that from that date he ceased to acknowledge him, and considered him unworthy to bear his name — certainly unfit to succeed him in the property or to have the squandering of the family forturie. Ned went down at once to see his father, and took a letter from Mrs Mortimer in which she assured the angry father that her assailant was not his son. But Mr Darvell, blinded by passion, refused to listen to any explanation. He had read the case, and said it was a disgraceful one for a Darvell to be mixed up in. He would only reconsider his decision when the real culprit had been convicted of the offence and his son's character cleared before the whole world. This threat, which was practically one of disinheritance, was the climax of Ned's misfortunes and he hui*ried back to town and besought Mrs Mortimer to place him in possession of the facts which would enable him to convince the world of his innocence. There was but one way : to discover John Harwood. and to have him arrested and prosecuted ; but to do this Mrs Mortimer still hesitated, until she could know how far her husband was concerned in the scheme for obtaining the money of his daughter. She didn't care to wash the family dirty linen in court again. All she could do then to assist Ned was to make him acquainted with the whole facts concerning her marriage and separation. She had married a wealthy man, a Mr Glendenning, when a girl of eighteen. Bofore she was two and twenty her fit sb husband died, leaving her a good income for life, but directing that the bulk of his property should pass to his brother. Mrs Glendenning, however, was supposed tohaveinhevited herhusband's wealthand to be immensely rich. Young, amiable, and supposed to be wealchy, she • was soon surrounded with suitors. Unfortunately, the man to whom she eventually yielded her hand was a good-looking brilliant adventurer, generally known as ' Jack Mortimer ' on the turf and at the clubs, and as 4 Aeonis Mortimer ' among the ladie?. Nobody knew where he came from or what he was. He had no profess-ion, but was to be seen everywhere, and it was privately believed that ho was waiting to make a good match. Mrs Glendenning, as soon as he commenced to pay her marked attention, gradually yielded to the undoubted fascination which the man possessed, and two years after tho death of her first husband she entered the bonds of matrimony for the second time. The marriage was an unhappy one from the first. Jack Mortimer, accustomed to a free and easy life, declined to give up all his old habits. He still remained at his clubs till two and three in the morning, lie still went to the principal race meetings round the country, and in the summer was away for weeks together without even troubling to let his wife have his address. When he did write home it was for money. From the commencement of his married life he had drawn liberally upon his wife's income for his own private expenses, and he was recklessly extra\agant. From time to time rumours reached Mrs Mortimer of her husband's 'goings on,' which were not calculated to make her easier in her mind, and at last, acting under the advice of her friends, she caused inquiries to be made, which resulted in proceedings in the Divorce Court. I The result of the trial was to set Mrs Mortimer free and to give her the custody of the only child of the marriage, Belle; the Court considering the father's conduct and mode of life sufficiently bad to refuse him any control over the child's future. Jack Mortimer, after the trial went abroad with th 3 lady who had caused all the trouble ,and it was soon reported that he had gone utterly to the bad. For years his wifo heard nothing of him ; but one day about two years before the events referred to at the commencement of this narrative she received a letter from him stating that he was in a atate of complete destitution, and asking her for £100 to enable him to leave the country and go to America. The letter was dated from a common lodging-house at the East End. Mrs Mortimer replied by referring him to her solicitors and stated that if he called upon them h8 should receive the e>um under certain conditions. Tho conditions were that he was to sign an undertaking pledging himself to make no further application, and in no way to molest her or her daughter. In order to make the document more efficacious she. agreed so long as ho respected , its clauses to send five pounds every quarter

bo any address he might forward to the solicitors. It was a generousoffer, bub it didnobmeeb with its reward. Six months after, Mrs Mortimer received another letter demanding a further sum of money, and threatening to apply to Belle and tell her the whole unless the request was complied with. The reply to that was a point blank refusal, the stopping of the allowance, and an ntimation that at the first attempt of Mr Mortimer to annoy Belle the matter would be placed in the hands of the police. The reply seemed to have had the desired effect, for Mrs Mortimer heard no more of her divorced husband and had begun fco breathe freely again, when something in Belle's manner led her to believe that her father had opened communications with her. What happened in consequence of this discovery the i*eader already knows. As soon as Mrs Mortimer had explained to Darvell the circumstances which had preceded the attempt to prey upon Belle, j he Degan to think the whole aflair out, in order, if possible, to disentangle the real Jack Mortimer from the false one. Mrs Mortimer vouched for the fact that the original applicant to her was Moi timer himself^ . The letter she had received wa in his handwriting, and he had gone to her law.yer's, who had i*ecognised him. The second letter, which broke the terms of the undertaking, was also in Mortimer's writing, but after that theue was no proof that he was in any way connected with {he attempts on Belle. Belle had natui'ally destroyed the letters which had been given to her, but on being show n her father's handwriting she said, she^ was sure her letters were written in a different hand. Such was the state of affairs when ono evening Ned, who had at last obtained, through the interest of a former friend, a small appointment in the office of a public company, caught sight of a figure which seemed familiar. It was near London Bridge and the traffic was heavy, it being the time when the great crowd of City toilers pour over the Bridge to the south side of the Metropolis. The man, a ragged dilapidated-looking fellow, was making for the Bridge, slouching along with his eyes on the ground and his hands in his pockets, and his gait suggested that he was not quite sober. Quickening his pace, Ned came near enough to the man to catch sight of his face. His first idea had been a correct one. The man was John Harwood. Fearful of being recognised by the scoundrel, whose movements he wished to observe, Ned dropped back and followed at a respectful distance, taking care to let three or four pedestrians keep between him and his ' casual ' acquaintance. John Harwood slouched on until he came to South'wark Bridge-road, when, ' Ned still cautiously following^ he turned up a side street and slouched on until be came to a house which had a board over the front door, announcing, in accordance with the Act of Parliament, that it was a Registered Lodging House. John Harwood pushed the swing-door opon and entered, and then halted to consider what he had better do. The missing link between Mrs Mortimer and her husband was found, but it was a link which required to be handled gently or it might snap. To have the man arrested there and then for the Hi^hgate affair would do no good. "What was wanted of him was a confession as to his dealings with Mortimer, and a statement as to when lie had last seen that gentleman. If Ne J could only pa?s the night in that house without being recognised he might find out something. There was~at least the chance of gleaning a little information. Taking a note of the name of the street and the number of the house he returned to his lodgings. On the way he went into an old clothes' shop anJ secured a rough pilot jacket, a pair of corduroys, and a coarse check shirt. With these toid an old fur cap he was able to make himself appear presentable ata common lodging house. Still he was afraid of being recognised by Harwood. So he spent half-an-hour in front of his looking-glass endeavouiin^ to altar his appea*ance as much as possible, To grime his face was an easily managed task in London lodgings, and further to concoal his identity he sacrificed his moustache. By pulling the cap clo-e down over his eyes, he found that he had very little resemblance, when all his arrangements were complete, to the Edward Darvell whom Harwood had met that memorable niglit in St. Mary's casual ward. It was Ned's first attempt at playing the amateur detective, and he felt a little nervous, but his experience in the days when ho had been down at heel stood him in good stead, and he slouched into the lodging house after the manner of a genuine common lodger. The deputy came forward at once, received the necessary fourpence, and then Ned, throwing himself down on a bench at the back o- the common kitchen, *as far from the fire as possible, smoked away at his pipe, and took observations from under the peak of his greasy old cap. As luck would have it John Harwood was in the room. He was on a form in front of the fire, and had been making himself objectionable, for one of his neighbours was still swearing afc him. Harwood returned the cumpliment, and presently rose, and saying he was going to bed and the company might go somewhere else where ib would be warm, he slouched out of the room and stumbled up the stairs, muttering to himself and swearing as he went. Then Ned came forward and took his vacant place by the fire. ' A nice agreeable sort of a cove that,' he said. ' Yes, he is,' was the reply ; ' he's bad enough when he's sober, but he's wus when he's drunk.' ' Is he a reg'lar here ?' said Ned. 'He used to be a year or more ago. Then he left, and we was all glad to be shut of him ; but he come back about a fortnight ago.' • What's his name ?' ' I don't know what his real name is, bub he was always knowed as 'Flash Jack.' He was a gentleman once, you know.' 4 Oh?' ' Yes, he's one of the swells as we gets in those places sometimes. Fellows as have had their chance and chucked it away. Bless you we has capbings in the army and clergymen and all bhab sorb in these here lodging houses. Why, one night in a ,ouso 1 was at, a man recognised the beak as had tried him once in the country, and I'm hanged if he didn't give him a copper next day for to get his breakfast, 'cos the poor beak looked so blessed hungry and said he hadn't got a mag to fly with. That was a rum go, wasn't it?' 'It was a rum go,' said Ned. ' Ah, it's wus for swells like them to come down than for us fellows as only comes to this through gettin' out o' work. So that chap as you call 'Flash Jack* was a genoletnan once, was he ?' ' Yes, the deputy here knows more about him ; but I knows a good bit, because I've used this 'ouse for years, and I lived here when Flash Jack and a pal o' his as 'ud been a swell too fust come to the place. You remember 'em, don'fc you, Bill V said the man, turning to a gentleman who looked like a hawker, and who was playing

cards with another gentleman apparently of the same profession in the corner. ' Yes, rather ! But the other chap was a realer gentleman' than Flash Jack.' ' What was his name ?' 'Lord knows what his real name was. These sort of chaps don't go' by their real names when they come to fourpenny bods, but Flash Jack allus called him Jay Hem. I suppose them was his initials.' 'J.M.,' thought Ned to himself, 'I wonder if that was Jack Mortimer.' 4 Poor old Jay Hem,' broke in the hawker, ' he had a bit o' luck, but it didn't do him much good.' • Did ho come into a fortune ?' asked Ned. •He oome into a tidy bit o' money, I heard. At least I know he did, 'cos he and Flash Jack left here, and was seen about London blind drunk for nearly a month. And then Jay Hem disappeared, and Jack hadn't got a brown, and took to the casual wards, I've h6ard. It was only by haccidcnt us I heard afterward what had become of his pal.' • Got locked up, I suppose ?' said Ned. ' No, he got run over by a cab, and was took to the 'osspital and they couldn't) put him right, and so he was took to the workhouse infirmary, 'cos they said he'd never be able to get about any more, through an injury to his spine.' 1 What infirmary was it?' ISt Olave's— the one as belongs to this paiish.' , ■ The conversation was continued, but Ned took no further part in it He was wondering if J.M., Jack Harwoods pal, was the JoTin Mortimejr whose whereabouts he was so anxious to discover Presently he took his candle and went upstairs to bed, and in the morning, as soon as it was light, he dresaeel himself, and re turned to his apartments. His first visit was to the office, whence, having obtained leave of absence for the day, he went off post haste to Highgate. His story was soon told, and then Mrs Mortimer asked him what he thought they had better do. 'Go to St. Olave's Infirmary at oncel said Ned. 'It is quite possible that J.M. i 3 your husband, but he may not have been received there as John Mortimei. It is more than probable that he would have assumed a false name during the years he has been living this life of degradation. It I were> to see this J.M., I couldn't tell if he were your husband or not, as I have never seen him. You would know him, and therefore I think it will be better for you to come with me.' Mrs Mortimer hesitated. The task was not a pleasant one, but at lust she overcame her scruples and consented. The master of St. Olave's Workhouse was exceedingly courteous. As soo/> as his visitors had stated their business, he looked over the books and found that the case of a man who had been run over was transierred from the hospital to the infirmary some months previously, and that the man was received in the name of John Morton. ' John Morton !' said Ned ; 'it may not be our man after all. Still, we had better pee him.' Conducted by the master, Ned and Mrs Mortimer made their way to the infirmary ward. The master stopped at a bed in the corner. The occupant had his face turned to the wall. ' Well, Morton, how are you to-day ?' said the master, in a kindly voice. The man turned hie head slowly. As he did so Mrs Mortimer uttered a little cry and clutched Ned's arm. The man's eyes opened wildly, as if he had seen a startling vision. Then the blood left his face and he turned deadly pale. Husband and wife had met. The man who had been John Harwoods ' pal,' and who had been brought to the infirmary, was the mipsing John Mortimer — Belle's father. For thehrBb moment or so Mrs Mortimer lost har self-possession. But she recovered it speedily, and then, approaching the bedside, she took her husband's hand kindly, and said, 'I'm sorry to hear you have been so ill. Are you better now ?' 'I'm bettei in myself, Mary, he said, J but I shall never get about again ; but I shall have time to repent of my sins before I die. That's a mere) r at any rate.' 'Yes,' said his wife gently, * tfyat is a mercy. It doesn't hurt you to talk ?* . 'Oh, no ! I'm glad to see you, and to be able to talk a little too. I've had plenty of time to lie here and think, and there are many things that I should like to say to you now you are here. I'm not the man I was, Mary. I've been face to face with death, and that gave me a sharp clear, view of my past life. I hope tkat for all the •wrong I did you, you'll forgive me. I've been punished for it,*. Gpd knows ; not that I didn't deserve it, don't think that 1 mean that. I know I did ; but I think that I shall be able to lie here more comfortably and wait for the end if I know you forgive me.' ' I do forgive you. I had forgiven you, and I had hoped that you had been worthy my forgiveness until — until ' ' Until I tried to get that money out of you eb ? Well, a lot of good it did me. It only brought me to this.' ' It i 3 about that I want to talk to you, John. Will you answer my questions truthfully V ' Yes ; it's the least I can do.' ' After you tried the second time to get money from me and I refused, did you set a man named John Harwood to try and get money from me ?' A look of genuine astonishment passed over the invalid's face. • Do you mean to say that Harwood applied in my name to Belle for money ?' 'Yes.' •The infernal scoundrel,' cried the sick man. ' How did he know about Belle and myself ? How did he know your history ?' ' Don't you know who he is V 'No.' 'He is the brother of the woman who caused all the mischief betv een us, Mary. After she died Jack and I lived together, and ho made me worse than ever. He'd drunk himself to poverty, and sponged on me long before ; but he was a sharp fellow,, and we lived on our wits together Lknew he was a scoundrel, but I didn't think he'd sell me.' It was clear as noonday now to Mrs Mortimer how Ilarwood knew the story of her life, and how he had been enabled, with Mortimer out of the way, to trade upon his knowledge. Leaving the Infirmary with a promise to her husband that she would come and see him again, Mrs Mortimer went home after arranging with Ned what was to be done. John Harwood could be charged now, for John Mortimer was in no way involved in the circumstances whioh led to the crime. The difficulty was to devise a way in which he could be charged witlioufr bi'inging out the story that' Mrs Mortimer was particularly anxious should not be republished to the world. She was a woman of the world, and knew that the -father's degradation would attach a stigma to the daughter— that people would shrug their shoulders and say all manner of unpleasant thinscs, and that Ned himself would have to bear them even after she was his wife. Ned knew his own father well enough to know that nothing but the public trial of

the real culprit would satisfy him a 9 removing the suspioion of the crime from his son. Jolm Ilarwood must be publicly charged as the author of the ' Highgate Mystery.' Ned went at once to the lodging-house in which Harwood had spent his previous evening. He had gone out saying he should come buck again that night. Ned waited until his man came. He met him turning down the Btreet — met him face to face. Harwood started back and would have run, but Ned had him by the arm and held him. 'You'd better liaten to me,' he said. 'If you don't I shall call a policeman and give you in charge at once. ' Then he rapidly presented Mr Harwood with a view <^f the situation. If he stood his trial without bringing his connection with Mortimer into it Ned promised that everything should be made as favourable as possible for him, that no word should be said about the money, and that as soon as he had served his sentence funds should be given him to enable him to leave the country. It was Hobson's choice, and Harwood was forced to consent. He knew that Darvell would keep his word if he held his tongue about Belle's father. It wasto his interest, and the interest of the family, to doso. He was arrested and pleaded guilty, and Mrs Mortimer stating that eho had seized him to detain him believing he wa3 about to rob her, and strongly pleading to the Court to take a lenient view of the assault, which was committed in a moment of rage, a sentence of six months' imprisonment was passed. ■'Then Ned went down and told his father the whole story, and had the satisfaction of convincing the old gentleman that he had been very badly used. The result in the end was satisfactory to all parties, and when Belle Mortimer became Mrs Edward Darvell the old gentleman came down very handsomely in the way of money. John Mortimer was removed from the Infirmary to a little cottage taken for him by his wife, and here skilfully nursed, and lacking for nothing he quietly passed away, having made his peace with God and with those whom he had injured in the past by his reckless and evil behaviour. Ned Darvell rarely refers to the days when he was ' a gentleman tramp,' but often when he muses on the past he thinks of the strange adventures which befell him through going into the casual ward, and he wonders what part John Harwood might have played in his married life had he not been instrumental in freeing Belle from the toils which her ' unhappy father,' as the impostor called himself, was endeavouring to spread around her. A young wife with a disreputable parent, whose existence she is anxious to conceal from her husband, does not always come happily out of the ordeal.