SERIAL STORY

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LII, Issue 371, 23 April 1910, Page 6

SERIAL STORY

A ROYAL WARD.

By PERCY BREBNER. (Published by arrangement with Cassell and Company, Ltd., cf London and Melbourne, the proprietors of the copyright).

1 CHAPTER XXIII. TIIE CROSSING OF MANY PLANS. Finley Baxter eoukl not determine why he had felt so certain that Victor Dnbuis-on would not venture out today. but he was perplexed at finding the lodging empty, lie looked rouud his own room for some clue to the vhere- . übouts of the missing man, and, finding ' none, ascended to the room above. He had not entered this since the day he | 'had brought Dubuisson here, hut ho did not suppose that it was usually kept in ' the stale in which he now found, it. Everything was in confusion, clothes ! carelessly thrown upon chairs and ' tables, a few torn papers scattered upI on the hearth. Either the room had i been ransacked in much the same way i as the King Street lodging had been, or tile tenant had oeen obliged to retreat | in haste, and had quickly •collected a '• few lu'i i'Ssury articles to take with hi*i. I Baxter came to the conclusion that this latter ,-oluiion of the case was. the correct one, but lie had not a sufficient knowledge of his companion's wardrobe to attempt to discover a clue to his intentions l>y what he had taken. He went slowly downstairs again, and by force of habit to the cupboard in the wall where a bottle and glasses were kept. "If I drink until I understand the situation. I am likely to be in no condition to cope with it when I do understand," he murmured, as, after one glass, he very .carefully replaced the bottle, "if Dubuisson has cleared out, I reckon this place isn't too safe for me. Finle.v. my fine fellow, you've got to do a bit of scouting away from headquarters. Jlr. Victor Dubuisson is going to be tile death of you yet, unless' you are mighty careful." Sucli small considerations as a change of clothes did not trouble Finley Baxter. He prided himself that his dress was always fitting, ready for any exentuality; and having slipped another pistol into his pocket, and fished out from a convenient hole by the hearth a small leathern bag of money, lie walked out of the house, caring little -whether cir-

cumstanees would 'bring him back to- ! morrow, or next week, or even whether 1 they so fell out that he was destined never to inter the place again. I What was the meaning of this new ! development? Baxter wondered, as he ' crossed Hungerford Market,, walking ' without haste, yet keenly observant of i every man who approached him. Rumor was; persistent in stating that the Prince Rc-gent had been shot at by a French spy. Of course, Dubuisson had not done Mich a thing, but it was quite possible that rumor pointed to him, and that hi.s enemies intended to lix the crime upni his shoulders, if they could. "He and I have dismally failed in one parucular," Baxter reflected. "We have never arranged a meeting-place in the event of our being obliged to leave our lodgings in a hurry. How to find .him, that is the question, for he hasn't many friends who would help him. It won't take long to reckon with them. Lady Betty Wamiisley—he wouldn't, he could not go to her. Sir Rupert Ashton— Heaven alone knows whether he's a friend or an enemy!" But the thought of him quickened Baxter's pace, and he walked sharply to Bury Street. ! The servant recognised him as having ben there on a friendly footing with Captain Hyde, and was polite, communicative, even. Sir Rupert was not at home, was not in London, in fact —he had left for Devonshire yesterday. ••'Yesterday! You-are quite sure it was yesterday?" 1 "Quite certain; he went by the mail • coach," the man answered. "I took his luggage to the office myself." "Then you do not expect him back just yet ?" "Perhaps wot (tor months, sir; his visits to town are most irregular. I often wonder what he finds so attractive in the country. I might be inclined | to think it was a woman, only my master seems to have foresworn femin- | ine society altogether—a' proof, I take ' :it, sir. that he is not quite well-balanc- : ed. I could not 'do without women's so- ; cietv myself. i if I sihouild say most womfen would 1 smile at vour coming, if they didn't I laugh outright," was Baxter's answer; ; and left the man to speculate whether a compliment or the reverse was intend- > ed. | From Burv Street Baxter went into ; Fleet Street," to a tavern in Shoe Lane. ! A man who was seated in a corner came ; to him at once. i "You know my lodging," said Baxter, | "and you know by sight the man who i has been lodging with me. I want you i to keep an eve on the -house and a sharp I look-out for "the man. Watch who goes | there, and should you see the man, tell him not to enter the house, but to come to—to come Here, and wait for me. This is as good a place as any." i The man departed without a word, j He had done work for Baxter before ; now, had sat drinking in the Brazen j Serpent after Dubuisson's escape from , the cellar, and had repeated to his emi plover all that was said of the affair, I and how Jacob Pinfold was not much . troubled at the loss of his wife. ! From Shoe Lane Baxter went to 1 Covent Garden, to find a crowd in the I neighborhood of the Brazen Serpent. ■Soldiers were in possession, he was told. "Why?" he enquired of a man beside him. "Over the shooting at the Prince Regent."

"Shooting at'the Prince!" Baxter exclaimed in horror. "Tell me. 1 lie in bed so late of a morning that the news is often stale before I hear it."

The first part of the story was much as Baxter knew it already, l'lie soldiers had gone in pursuit 01 ..ie would -be assassins, half a .n of whom had run for safety i the Brazen Serpent. The door had .icon bolted, but the soldiers had burst it open. "One man has shot himself," said the narrator, "and the others were secured and marc lied oil' not an hour since. One turned King's evidence, and the oilicer lias just taken liim to point out the hiding-place of the man who actually fired the shots."

"The chief villain is not caught, then?"

"He is by now, probably," the man answered.'"A French spy, they say he is." "How- about the landlord of the tavern?" asked Baxter. "Have they taken him, too?" "He's dead: fell down some-hole there is in the cellar." "Dead! Then she's a widow!" Baxter exclaimed.

"Who is?" asked his companion in astonishment.

"I was thinking of his wife. By the wav, has he a wife?"

''Ho had; but she ran away from him, ami no wonder, if what they said of Pinfold was true—the landlord's name was' Pinfold. 1 live in the neighborhood, you sec, and hear most of the news; .but I never knew that such a desperate gang had its meeting-place at the Brazen Serpent." "Thanks, friend. You're as good as a printed sheet for news. I reckon there's no legitimate business being done at this tavern to-day, out it's a short step into Dniry Lane, and I know a .house where they keep good liquor. Will you come with me?" The man went willingly enough, and obligingly honored a toast to "the fairest woman who bears the name of Mary," as Baxter put it. So good a newsteller as this man was fully justi-fied-the cracking of a bottle, and for an hour or so the American ceased from his labors. Perhaps there was method in his idleness; he was not anxious to run against the soldiers, with the man who had turned King's evidence in their midst. The man must be a cur, and might possibly recognise him. Although lie felt justilied in usrng such a man, Walter Evertsen treated him with little consideration. To save his miserable life; the scoundrel was .prepared to betray anyone, seemed anxious to tell all tie knew and would probably invent more if it served his purpose. He led them to the house : oy the river, which was searched from top to bottom in vain, and two soldiers were left behind to arrest anyone who came. There was little doubt that Dubuisson had been in the house quite recently, and Evertsen was in a rage that the man he most desired to take had escaped him. He. vented his rage upon the informer. "He has gone. Your evidence is valueless," he said. "You understand what that means? 1 see <0 reason to keep you any longer from your companions." "He will return, and the soldiers you have left will take him. You could not have done this without me," pleaded the man,

"If he returns, and is taken, you may prove useful; otherwise " "I have your word; besides, this man was not really one of us." "Silence!" said Evertsen.

"Tt is true; I swear it is true. It was Lighterwood who fired —the man who shot himself at the Brazen Serpent. We were to save ourselves by pointing ■out this Dubuisson as the assassin. T was ignorant of the .scheme until I found myself so entangled that there was no escape." "A likely story," sneered Evertson. "Who originated so foul a plot?"

"I do not know. We were all tools, more or less, at the Brazen Serpent. There was .someone unknown in the background." "This fellow Dubuisson?" "No." "Yes, I say." "Of course, if you know it " "I do- not know it; but the man had betrayed too much for Evertsen's peace of mind. He had seen Dubuisson in the crowd. On his oath he could not have sworn whether Dubuisson had fired or not. He was anxious to believe that he had, and the fact that he had run away, even as these cowards who were his companions had was sufficient to accuse him. Now, this fool he had taken for King's evidence would prove otherwise.

The man whom Baxter had sent to watch, and who had arrived after tiic soldiers had entered the house, crouched in a doorway. He had the temerity to hold out a hand for alms to the enraged officer as he passed up the street again, but Evertsen took no notice of him. He was in no mood to be charitable.

The news that several men implicated in a plot against the Regent were taken had got abroad, but it was also known that the chief villain was still at large. There was excitement in the streets, and | when darkness fell—which was early in these late October days—soldiers were! in evidence at many street corners, lest there should be further danger. No one believed, however, that there was any grave .political significance m tUe attempt, but the authorities chose to be on the right side. The Prince Regent was not inclined to make light of the affair, and Evertsen had to remain on duty until a late hour. He cursed his ill-luck, for he had intended to be at Almacks' to-night. Lady Betty would lie there, and he had much to say to her. Although it was after midnight, and he could not possibly enter the rooms, he went into King Street the moment lie was free. A stroke of good fortune might, perchance compensate for his disappointment. A man who was leaving the rooms early accosted him.

"I was thinking of you, Evertsen Walk with me to the top of the street, It is important."

"Tell me, first, has Lady Betty Wal mislev left?"

"No; nor likely to, yet. She is with Lady Lanncsley, who seldom departs until the lights are being put out." JEvertsen turned to walk with him, much too intent upon his own allairs to take notice of a beggarly fellow who loitered before the doors of this temple of fashion as thouch lie found some consolation in contrasting his own condition with that of the quality.

"About this affair to-day?" said Everisen's companion: "this French spy " ••Haven't J. heard you speak d£ a French spy before—a fellow you failed to lay by the heels somewhere in the country?" "Yes, yes—in Devonshire."

"Anil a few days since did you not have a strong suspicion that this spy was identical with a man you introduced to several of us?"

"Yes; a fellow named Ditbuisson —\iotor Dubuisson." "That's the name. For the life of me. I could not remember it to-night."

"To-night!" Evertsen exclaimed. "I am prepared to swear that he was at Almaeks' this evening. I suppose you do not think he had anything to do with to-day's affair?" "Indeed, I do."

"Well, strangely enough, the idea crossed my minlj to-night; but it seemed absurd," answereu his companion. "One would hardly look for such a criminal at Almaeks'.' He was dancing with Lady Betty, too."

"Tell me just what happened," said Evertsen.

"1 k 110 iv Lady Betty hut little," was the answer; "she probably does not do me the honor to remember by name, and. truth to tell, Evertsen, the lady who is shortly to be my wife chooses to be somewhat jealous of her. I am, therefore, debarred from seeking, to know Lady Betty better than I do." "Yes, yes, I understand," was the rather impatient answer. "But this does not lessen my admiration," his companion went on; "and Lady Betty's dancing 'would command the attention of a Sybarite. I had noticed her in the vestibule, and chanced to hear la-v -peak of expecting a partner —a few niiiutu-.-' !a!"r -he wis dancing- with this' man. I comhuled that she ..had waited for him, that he had only just arrived, for I had not seen him dancing before.'' "What time was this?" "Just after midnight."

"And when did 'lie leave?" "About half an hour later. It was seeing him depart so soon that made me suspicious; but surely, Evertsen, lie would never have been so foolish as to conic to Almaeks' had he been a guilty man, let alone dancing with Lady Betty Walmisley ?"

"Even u scoundrel' may have courage, and the fairest women in the -world may be deceived," Evertsen answered. "i know that 1 have been hunting tile fellow all day." They had walked along St. James' street towards Piccadilly, and Evertsen found some consolation in recounting the events of the day to a sympathetic Jistencr.

'•I should question Lady Betty," said his companion. ."I shall see her when she leaves," answered Evertsen; and he went back to King Street and Almacks'. Many coaches were in the street, many footmen and servants before the door, but the loitering beggar had gone. He had hurried away only a few minutes ago. Although Evertsen had not noticed liini, he had looked sharply at Evertsen, had recognised him as the ollicer of whom he had begged that day when near the house by the river. He went quickly in this direction now to And his employer.

Finlcy Baxter had not; approached his lodging until after dark, when he had gone to learn from his watcher what had happened. All day, by a process of deductive reasoning, lie had been endeavoring to find a clue to Dubiusson s .ictions, and he afterwards attributed the 'brilliant result attained to the fact that he had spent some considerable time in cracking a bottle of wine in Drury Lane. He could not forget that scattered clothes were the most conspicuous objects in Dubuisson's disordered room; clothes, therefore, must have occupied Dubuisson's attention at the moment of his flight some particular clothes. Whether his arguments followed a strictly logical course or no, he presently remembered that Dubuisson had casually let fall the information that he intended to go to Almacks' on this parti- ! cular Wednesday. Had he gone, in spite lof everything? He was quite capable of I | such madness, especially if he had made any sort of promise to Lady Betty Walmisley. He would want certain clothes for Almacks'. probably these were the clothes he had taken. So, having heard his story, and learnt, that soldiers were in the house ready to arrest any man who should go there, Baxter sent his spy to watch 6utside Almacks', yet lie was not so certain of 'his logic that he felt justified in leaving the house by the river to take care 01 itself. He took his spy's place, and for hours watched lest Duhuisson should come and walk into the trap prepared for him. (To be continued on Wednesday).