The Scales of Justice.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXX, Issue 8523, 28 August 1907, Page 2

The Scales of Justice.

By FRED M. WHITE, [Published By Special Arrangement.] [A.LL Eights Reserved.]

CHAPTER XX.—Continued. It was past eleven by the time he reached his destination, and the charity function was in full swing. There were other servants wandering about the grounds besides Gilbert, all intent upon seeing what they could of the festivities. Along the drive was a double line of carriages without horse.?, for some people had come a long way, and the horses were warm and comfortable in the vast stables behind the castle. There were a good many motorcars also. From the terrace Gilbert could see into the chief room, for the windows came down to the ground, and some of the casements were open to temper the heat of the great room beyond. With a certain sense of interest and amusement, Gilbert watched the gay throng, like a kaleidoscope of lively colours. He moved presently down the terrace in front of the house. Late as it was, some of the guests were still arriving. Two of them came up at the same moment in a fine motor-car. The occupants descended, and shed their heavy sable overcoats, and handed them to the chauffeur. "Let's call it a couple of hours, Jakes," one of the guests said. "I daresay we can do the ducal castle in that time comfortably. What do you say?" "That's about* right," the other guest nodded. "Given our dancing days are over; and it's only for the sake of seeing how a duke with sixteen quarterings lives when he happens to be in the bosom of his family. Come back about one o'clock, Jakes." The chauffeur took off his cap and departed. Gilbert watched the two strangers disappear in the great hall portico, with a feeling of surprise and the knowledge of discovery. He had not the least doubt who the two strangers were. He was quite certain that they were the pair of Virginians who had accosted him in the woods last night. There was no mistaking their peculiar accent, or the queer grate in the yoice of one of them. This was the twain that Bernard Beard was so deadly frightened of—the men who threatened his life. And here they were like peaceable, law-abiding citizens, paying their six guineas to have a peep at the inside of one of the stately homes of England. It seemed incredible that these men could be the desperadoes that Marston had hinted. Gilbert wondered if he had made a mistake, and that the thing was sheer coincidence. At any rate, he would get a clue by an examination of the motor-car, which had been placed in a line with the others. The chauffeur was doing something to the gear as Gilbert strolled up. If these were the same Americans, then they had more than one car, for this was a great green machine, with shining brass so highly polished that it was possible to see one's face in it. "That's a fine car of yours," Gilbert said. "Mercedes, isn't it?" "Mercedes it is," the chauffeur said- "Cost fifty thousand francs, and is the fastest car in England. Strong, too, as it need be, for my master takes it everywhere. He's never tried to motor across a river yet, but I daresay it's only because the idea has not occurred to him." Gilbert bent down, 'as if he were so taken with the car that he could not tear himself from it. As a matter of fact, he was examining the tyres. They were perfectly new tyres, and yet on both the outer wheels was a tiny scratch, as if they had been rubbed with a file, and many little thorns stuck out, as if the car had been across a patch of gorse. "The tyres have had some pretty hard wear," Gilbert suggested. "Yesterday," the chauffeur explained, "I had to go to London, and my gentlemen had the car out. They got lost in some woods, I understand. But you never know what an American will be up to." Gilbert replied that he supposed not. He rubbed his hand carefully over the hood of the car, and something came away wet and greasy on his palm. It was a dark smear, as he could see in the full blaze of the great acetylene lamps. Gilbert knew exactly what it meant. This was the same car driven by the same men he had encountered last night. He did .not ask their "names. Probably the names they used there were nothing like the names they were known by at home. But this was the same car, and the mystery of the change of colour was visible on Gilbert's hands. The raven hue of the car the night before was due to a thick coating of greasa and black lead. The stuff had only to be sponged off, and the car was changed out of recognition. Blacklead formed no part of the equipment of a motor-car, and Gilbert entertained no doubt that it was blacklead that defiled his fingers just now. He strolled off again presently, as if he had satisfied his curiosity. It was nearing the time when he had to meet Flora Cameron. Very quietly he walked down to the lodge gates, and there found the single-horse brougham that awaited her. At the mere quetsion as to whether or not the iran came from the Moat House, he jumped down and handed Gilbert a few wraps and a shawl. Armed with these, George returned t ) the terrace. He could see that the large room was thick with people now. Two of the casements in the great window were wide open, for the heat inside was intolerable. A dance had just ceased with the ■music. From where he stood, Gilbert could see Flora drop the arm of her partner, and walk across to a tall woman with a dark, handsome face, a. woman dressed in scarlet with dia-

monds in her raven hair. The woman smiled, and walked with Flora down the room. "Let us get a breath of fresh air," Flora was saying. "I am not used to an atmosphere like this. And dancing fatigues one so n:uch more than it used to do." The two came close to the window, so that Gilbert could see the face of the woman in scarlet. The full glare of the electric light picked her out in a batch of flowers. She had a striking face. The lips were a little thin, perhaps, and the eyes large; but it was a face that, once seen, he was not likely to forget quickly. "And now I must say good-night," Flora murrrured. "I promised to be back early. Really, I do not go anywhere. I could not call on you. You see, my life is so very quiet and secluded. Is that you, James?" Gilbert realised the fact that Flora was speaking to him. He murmured something, though he had the gocd sense to remain in the shadow. In a careless tone of voice Flora directed him to go to the great portico and wait for her. With his head in a whirl, Gilbert complied. Presently Flora came out and clipped into her furs. Then for a little while she did not speak till they were out of sight of the house." "I told you I should not bias your judgment," Flora said. "I told you I should like you to decide for yourself. You saw my companion by the window to-night Need I ask if you can guess who she is?" Gilbert gave a short, unsteady laugh. He dared hardly trust himself to speak. When he spoke his voice was hoarse and thick. "Know her?" he said bitterly. "Know her? Ay, anywhere. For that is the woman who has wrecked my life—that was none other than Madame Regnier!"

CHAPTER XXI. "MRS DUNLOP-GORDON." Flora Cameron did not appear to be in the least surprised to hear Doyle's statement. Sho had the air of expecting to hear nothing else; in fact, she would have been disappointed otherwise. Gilbert looked at her in frank and open admiration. "You came to me in the shape of an angel," he said. "You appeared on my horizon when I had almost lost faith In everything; Directly I saw you, it came to me that you were sent to bring the truth to light. But I did not think that you were so clever and so good and beautiful. How did you discover this thing?" "I did not discover it at a 11.," Flora explained. "The explanation is simple. When I had won Mary Cawdor's confidence and she had told me everything, I began to think. In the first place I wondered where Bernard Beard came into the conspiracy. Mind you, I regarded the whole thing as a conspiracy from the first, even before I had seen you. Never mind that the evidence was dead against you—that does not always weigh with a woman. I assumed you were innocent, and thought Cawdor would not give her heart to a bad man. I studied the evidence to see if I could find a loophole in it, but in vain. I studied those pictures in the woman's paper when I read the account of the trial till I had them fixed on my memory. Amongst them was a sketch of Madame Regnier." "Ah!" Gilbert exclaimed. "I begin to see. Go on!" "Noted criminals have been tracked and murderers brought to justice by some newspaper sketch. Not that I ever expected to see Madame Regnier. I daresay that you will regard it as a coincidence that that woman is so near to the spot where the mystery will be solved.but, after all, it is not in the least curious. Madame Regnier came down here so that she could be close to Dr. Beard. Probably they are plotting some fresh miscnief. But I am getting along too fast. About a month ago Dr Beard told me that a certain Mrs Dunlop-Gordon, who was by way of being a friend of his, had taken Breckland Lodge furnished for a time. Breckland Lodge is one of the finest houses in this quarter, and anybody taking it must be rich. I thought no more of it at the time, not till the day before we induced JuanfjjGarcia to bring you that note. Then I met Mrs DunlopGordon as I was out for a walk, and, as she was beautifully dressed and had a splendid carriage and horses, I asked who she was. I was just a little curious to have a further look at her, and when I met her again an hour later I gratified my curiosity. She strongly remindad me of a face 1 had seen somewhere, but I could not quite make out where. Then it flashed upon me. It was Madame Regnier." (To be Continued.)