The Storyteller.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LVI, Issue 80, 28 August 1914, Page 6

The Storyteller.

(By Berford l.'vlannoy). '

® BEN tS FATAL. |

I believe I went it-ic i<) liie lip,.) Anyway, I had that peculiar, goose-* Uesliy, Wood-reeeding-iroin-tae-skin feel-j ing which Usually' makes a man turn; to the mirror, to discover thv*t tht! coio. has drained front Ins face. , . » The «id—Kiizabethiftn period—manor! house at Grayfield. was occupied b;. i Jaye M. Richards. His description oil himself was "liuanriier." . Tin**- who ha ij suffered at his hands had called hum blood-sucker. I'he truth wa» thai iuj was a money--lender of a partiouh'-'',- ! avaricious, grasping kind. 1 acted a» ; his secretary. '■ This French windows of tiic mi'inri House study Opened out on t > Uie lawns ■ at the4iiefeof the house. in the act; of crossing the latter I v;.\- .suddenly startled l>y the *ouud of two pistol shots : which came from the iwom. Dashing across the grass. 1 rushed into the study, —to find my employer lying in a heap on i the. iloor—dead! " Sound of the shot*, had attracted tin! attention*' of others, too. The servants trooped hij-tumbling over each other in jtheii: 'haste, to discover mie beside the | dead body. The hastily summoned po : M'ce were told of that, and the high words which had passed between Richards And'myself earlier in the day. It is tile, business of .the policy to arrest people, they arrested me. The quarrel, of Which '.he officers were told, had arisen from the expression of my deair<> to be released from .Richards' employment. The, latter had insisted upon the six (months', notice stip-/ ulated in our agreement. At the time I had entered into- -that, I had not the faintest idea, of ipr employer's real character. . Discpvering .what manner of nurti"l \fras serving, I wlihed to terminate riiir -total. - When .the point-blank refused to release me, the mercury of my tamper ran up the glass. Hot-tongued. J told him something of What 1 thought ot" him. One word led to another—as words-have a. way -of My raised voice was heard by the servants. What—apart. ff oHT"the crump' ed-up heap'of humanity upon the floor—had shocked me Into » spellbound condition on eatering the rooto y.'JUi: the eight of ;vpotiher,. man there. - When I appeared iii the*window;wtfy lie had darted behind*a curtain. He must haw remained- hidden there the whole of the timji.r..that the police were being fetched, and whilst they arrested ijic.,. It ' would'be 'quite an easy matter for hitil t<> make his escape after we liad left the room. ' i There was no actual "iced for me to aa r I did, in the nustody of th*;. ; olliceTS. It would be ijuite easy for ! mo t?- clear 'man 'behind the I'heTe was » reason Why I did not do that. A big reason. He was tlie father of the girl I loVed! The depth of her arfection for him was well known to one. It he were convicted of bo horrible a crime as murder iior heaart wouldi have broken. Resides, I had little to fear. There wi? the supporting consciousness of my owj innocence. I felt tihat I sliould on v sulfpr temporarily. In it-.! end 1 mu-t be liberated.

j That was an idea thac sustained me in the beginning. Later in my pahif'i! experience, I was to learn how closely woven are the meshes of the nets o! the law, and how tightly they may ii... drawn; ihow htrong circumstantial evidence may be made; how it is possible tbat an innocent man muv be convicted. That was my fate. There ;s little -use in setting out details of my trial and sentence —such incidents lack Let it suffice that, in the finish, I not only lav in the. condemned cell,' -bur, the date had been fixed \vii-»i, V> quotthe judge's words. "I was to be taken back to the place whence T came, an I thence to the place of e.w.ition, and th-re to be hanged by the/neck mitil T wae dead."

My love for Fanny Ormesby was great. ! But,' frankly, at this stage the instinct iof self-preserva'ticm was greater. When I realised' the ghastly imminence of -my peri! I should have, opened my lips and spoken the truth. But for cue fad— I "l had kept them closed' too long," The horrible corner in whicii I found myself did not blind my comutonseusc. I was eonscioiio that it would lie sheer waste of time to accuse Fanny's fatjie" ; now. It was unreasonable to expect one soul on earth would believe me. Why, it wou'ld,,a4 ,qnc-e be asked, |-..ij .1 not spoken :, fK ? Fanny obtained" perhiissfcn to visit me. I think that, too helped to keep mv lips sealed. Although all the worn believed me guilty, her sweet faith in Jme remained. To have accused Vr father, with, knowledge of Ile fn'tili'v tii the accusation, aft-.r that wothl have been the act of a madman. Fanny—God .bless her;—as-'T h-we said—vame to see -me. '.'■ lien 1 had t< huge surpnise in 'the sha]>e of a sec.ih.-l visitor. Her father obtained an and- visited tlu; prison. And this h what he t-aid to me: "Fanny tells me that you are innocent. I would trust her judgment before all others in the world. She wil break her heart if—<if you die. Tvi must be stopped."

1 looked at him in amazement, wondrring wihether his conscience had prvked him—what he proposed to say do. He went, on: "You will not find her » girl now. By reason of 'Richard's death, f am rich once mere. I told you that if the market went up I should be ai! right again. It went up beyond my expectations. I can dower mv daughter with fivc-and-fwcnty thousand pound-* without im]ioverishing mywelf." I had guessed he would-;b" on his legs again. But that he should come :.i me. who knew why hi' was wealti; again, and boast of it seemed an i.icicdible thing. •Think of it." he rcMini'-d. "Let th:: fi'Tires help tn teni|>t you--ten)]it you to speak the truth. I prav that you will do. that for mv da-ugliter's sak-. You are—you must be --shielding soni.cne. iSjH'ak the truth, for her sake--your sake—for niy sake.'' "Yon—you can say thai!'' T could scarcely shape the we'ds. "For your -Why not? 1 love-oivv daughter. Her hanpiness means much to me. That- 's v.li'v 1 plciwl to vou to snea-k ,-iid let ''.>.• really guilty su'fiVr." -Vou van say that?" '■From mv bean I do!" 1 walked up to him.Almost micorseioutilv I seized him by Mie arms and twi*t«d him round to the;'light, that wav 1 could look into his i'ui-e and ev ■-. 1 was astonished by what I saw; r.-i-l there nothing but surprise at my ma'i'ner —no shadow of a trac of guii.. What, did it. mean? Was lv- mad? Or had trouble turned my owi braitv. Then it. dawned on me that I. had nwd" :. 'mistake. In the hivlf-d-a-rkiiess- of t-i.'-lamn-Ut room I had mistaken the mi:'deriT for Ormesby. I had. too. be ■•) rcadv to believe that, hot from my n,'tvTview with him in the <itv, when he had. Kpolcen so bitterly of the -inn bent on his ruin. T knew wi at tb.'i; meant to him. ■-,•■; I EealishSig my mistake, T relaxed nn i!grip;.of Ormesby's arms, and fell aw:>.v frpm him w.itli'a groan. It-was l.ov-

ll.w.'K 100 .ate now. , JLop. ja,te:...,r,n7-, cv.t-abV T should perisii at the" hangi man'.-i hati'.l- for ;i crime,of .which I.fii innocent.; ~,'". I "' '. „'.'!■'■• "OrVne-Jhy \iik fjir'idusiy ingi ; y' wlffi me bei-s'ua- of rv.- stupidity. Tim*; I shoujd think- hitii ,v .murderer seemed to" -hSiiii an insignificant matter hcsiJu .tlioutter; fool- r slm-.'-fi- (ii the "mistake I Jiac} made; in 'keeping 'my shut.'".Ke-could! have proved, he. stuid. beyond tlifc'.Bhad)iw of n 'fbiv'.'i, '..' a scoreicf;witiicsses, thati he never left 'London that il!-fVted; nis-ht. .-...'■..-'. i What could lie do how to eet''tilings' right V he asked. He'was rich, but thV W!i>: :!ii oec-ioion ou which the,iiuii>otc>nc v of th.' ,!?o(l Mammon cahic, into "-.f>rd-; i minenc?. .■-;..,.-,-' .'-- - >' • "The-,-" is..-!ily dr.e thing," he'sividTi-.br- 1 rowfu'lv, -."hen we liud.tlKH-qughiydy-i eus.ed !,!:■' . Hjnt'ter. ."ILat '. 1 ca'ii.'dp.l! Then- is a private .detective named i Watson 'Ward, who is ill ro:il life j what Sherlock Holmes was :r. the,t,^m. I of -firfion. I'kftow him and will; ni'aiini him.. He shall .visit \,o'u this aftonweui. |j God "knows: there .in' no'iiime ■■u'M \\n.\,.\i ! anything is ,t 0 Up liouo.- . '■'.'.,...':.' | Ormosby ihnd not c'ver-'valod''-V.%tßon i| Ward's 'abilitios'. . Bffore Jour-ind- ! ; twenty homv, had passed this,.reodeni i miracle-worker had. elicited fiicts. : thrtt?, j put befo.e the Home, SceTttary,:,^;, 'A tabedfox nic ft rcpri;.»r;, aiid.a liftic ' later,, an absolute .di'scliarge., . j simply jnarvelkntij, alihoiigli .(he .dctiei'- j tive affected to think it i simule mattor, ■ "You see," he said, in tolling m e ; afterwards hew, he had,'gone to work, "you must not lay'blame oil the' oftie,ia,l police with'"'to'.o heavy; a. .hand.' The;.-, worked 0 ..the assiummtion tliat you v/i.re.gailty and loioked.for.no one; c-lsc. , I, oil'-.th'e other han,d, knew you to be, iiiiioccntj and that,; consequently, thorn; must.''lie someone else," . ,'-,, ,•■•'■" "I see." "I went to the miiribr'h'ou-je rnd spent r,uite four hours 'there before I liclited on a solution of the .pmSjiem.'- ]• bej lieved. of eouwc,what you hf.d said of the presence of a mar-, who .resembled Mr Ormesby." ' "In the hailf-light it was r.uile easy to make a mistake." "There was not a. servant in the place I v.-ho was ev'eii' resnotoly like him,, or could" not account for his l 'whereabouts at (the moment of the murdar. I ascertained, too, that the poljcc,; had, Ijefore j they left, examined,th e room thoroughly. That was'a difficult natter to. reconcile with, your statement of Mm man hiding behimi l the curtain.- Bu!t ite had ..to- be reconcilet. Thoughts of a scyret.panel— ( | they, exist iii these old houses— Occurred 'to-nie, a'TKI the walls''\vore, curiously] i enough, oak-panelled, r miestiohed the i servants; they bud neve? liea:tu,oj. such J ia tiling. "As a result' of any delibrta't-oii. I decided on devoting one solid hoUV to ! the space covered by the curtains. The .owner of the place was dead; the s«-.~- . Vants had -been sjflt ..ftjvay, a caretaker was in chargei'i fe|| me to make .my examination "alonel I'determined to i run the risk of a charge of damaging, and to slaughter" the particular panel . the curtain covered, I tad already] been over it inch by inch, feeling for ibe hidden spring—aindfailed. So 1 att!w.<eu it With' a cl:opf>er, obtained from an adjacent woodshed. When the panel was reduced tq.so much matchwood and splinters* revealing the stone wall 'behind. I. found a • soring right enough—and I was filled with admiration for the cunning device of its conccalmiPivt. "The pane! had sounded Mead' because it wiis attached to soli.l masonry. That worked- on a pivot, when the right spring was touched It worked when—now that. I had found' it—l touched it There-wan- a small chamber built in the otone-wall.- In that-was a dead (body—the body of. the murderer!He -had removed. any possible doubt about that, for beside him lay lesivcs torn from his poelcet-lwok. on which was scrawled his explanation, of the crime—scrawled because written with a. pencil in absolute darkness. ', It was an act of revenge. The manfound dead had once been the ewner of the manor house and his fainiilv before him for tfeni'Tatioim. Falling into monetary difficulties, :lu< fell "into the hands—--1 should,-perhaps, say under the "thumb —of -Richards. Th ( . latter squeezed him. ousted ,liim from possession, and (lie-and his family were made homeless.

"That seemed tr» have preyed on his mind. Watching bis ouportiiivity. he entered 'Chi?'house as you did —hy the French window.—and lived twice at the man who had ruined him. Almost at the moment,' you 'suddenly'appeared on the scene. Tie was trapped. Tlien he remembered a. way of e-eape vas open to him! He knew of the secret panel. Dashing behind the curtain, he. worked the spring'and disappeared.

"Part of this I learnt from, the leaves of the note-book—si--confession, really; partly f-ram- his family when I interviewed them. The rest is not interesting. When the facts were scheduled'andplaced before the Home Office authorities, a "respite was granted while; in-, quiries were made. There could lie "only oiie end to these —your, immed'r.te liberation. I congratulate you on toeing 'a free man once more." As he concladoi I gripped his hand. To .have thanked .'him in woids.would have been a sheer impossibility, the.lump in inny thro.it was too big. Hehad .siived mv life—saved, me„from the- 'most disgraceful death a man'can suffer. 'Despite the -liberality c-f the, cheque my father-in-law gmve-him, ißhall be hiss debtor for ever and for ever and fof" ever.