The Scales of Justice

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXX, Issue 8528, 4 September 1907, Page 2

The Scales of Justice

By FRED m WHITS,

CHAPTER XXIV —Continued. The speaker paused. Gilbert could hear stsmebody walking heavily up and down the room, ar.ci judged that it was the man Beard. "In the name of common-fcn.se, let us have done with this silly mystery," the latter cried. "What is ic that you rcquir-' us to dc? I know that you regard the stranger and settler in your part of the world much as you regard a nigger, and would as soon see your womankind allied to one. But the thing is not exactiy a crime." "Well, we think otherwise," the ■deeD-voiced one said. "It was a crime to steal away our sister and abandon her in the way you did, and ■we take oup vengeance for those things. An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth is our stern motto, as many a scoundrel knows to his cost. The law is ours instead of the tribunal that you set up in England. But you are not going to escape your punishment; and Madame Regnier, whose assistance you needed to carry out your schemes, is not going to escape hers. Perhaps not to-day, perhaps not to-morrow, but yet as surely as the sun rises in the East. Do you leave here to-night, Beard?" "I go home, of course," Beard said sulkily. "I shall probably walk." "No, you will go in our car, -which is waiting in the stables for us. We are going to drive you over and spend the night with you at the Moat House. You need not worry about beds for us, as we are old campaigners, and can settle down anywhere. We are not going to let you out of our sight again; we are so fond of you that we are going to lock you in your bedroom, so that you can't get up to any of your tricks before daylight. And if the discovery that we have made does not prove " "You are going too far," said the other man. "Do not spoil the thing prematurely. Now, Beard, are you ready to come with us?" Beard was understood to growl that he had no choice. The conve~sation broke off abruptly at this point; there were shuffling feet inside, and somebody pulled back the blind so quickly that the listener outside had barely time to hide himself. 4Tt was Cardrew making sure that the catch of the window was fastened before he pushed and barred the shutters. There was not much chance of learning anything further, as Gilbert told himself; but, cold as he was, he decided not to strike for 'the cottage so long as Beard remained there. From his hiding-place in the belt of trees he saw Beard emerge; he saw the great car dragged into the flashing lights shining on the gravel of the drive. He saw Madame Kegnier on the doorstep smiling and cool as if she were watching the departure of a few intimate friends. Then the car hummed and hissed round, and finally slid past the gates of the lodge. It hummed off down the road, and then there was silence. "Well, what do you think of it?" a voice said, so close to Gilbert that he fairly jumped with surprise. "D'd you get a grip of the converastion?" Gilbert knew the voice now. It was that of Marston. How long had the latter been there, and how much had he seen. Gilbert wanted to know. "I saw your shadow against the light of the room," Marston explained. "If a footman had come along it would have been awkward for you. I'll go your way, and you can tell me exactly what you heard. And perhaps you will find it to your advantage" to speak quite freely. Beard's past holds no secrets from me. Now, did they happen to say anything relating closely to Miss Winifred Cawdor?"

CHAPTER XXV. A t WASTED LIFE. Gilbert Doyle felt that he ought to be astonished. But he was long past feeling anything of the kind. It seemed odd that all the same that the mystery surrounding the little knot of people gathered together at the Moat House should be known uutside the circle. Did everybody know all about it, he wondered. Was the secret shared by the officials at Greystone? Perhaps Marston divined something of this, for he smiled. "You need not be astonished," he sadi, "I daresay you arc wondering how many more people know of this business. I assure you that nobody else is in it. But you may rest assured that few of Bernard Beard's rascalities are concealed from me." "You know something about the mysterious strangers, perhaps?" Gilbert asked. "I know all about them," Marston replied. "And if you like, I will give you every information concerning them. If you are not tired, perhaps you will come as far as my cottage with nc and talk the matter over with a ci"ar. I still smoke cigars occasionally "I should never ho. too tired to glean valuable info 'mation about Beard," said Gilbert. Pray lead the way. I don't know why, but I have a feeling that we are pretty close to the edge of the truth.' Marston vouchsafed no opinion on that head. He led the way in silence to his cottage, put fresh logs on the fire and trimmed the lamp again. Then, to Gilbert's surprise, he produced a box .of exceedingly line cigars. "These are by way of a treat," he exclaimed. "It suits my mind sometimes to remember that I was born on a family estate, and that I was educated at Rugby and Trinity, Cambridge. Pr Doyle, would you like to hear the story of a wasted life?"

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Doyle uttered something to the effect that he did not want to pry into Iviarston's past. The latter smiled somewhat grimly as he lighted his cigar. "It suits my purpose to speak of it," he said. "It is so seldom that I get a .man of education to talk to. There is Beard, of course, and I could go to the Moat House if I chose. And as an intellectual force, Bernard Beard is hard to beat. But then I know what a 'consummate rasca! he is, and that makes all the difference. If I had never met Beard I might have been a different man." | Gilbert nodded. He felt that he only needed patience for the discovery of va'.uable information. Marston wandered on in a general way for some time. "But I need not dwell on that," he said. "I by no means lack intelligence or force of character, and it is always weak to blame another for your misdeeds. I had a brilliant career both at school and college, and great things were predicted of me. When I came of age, too, I did not lack friends to push my way in the world. Science was my line, and when T was in London I came in contact with Bernard Beard. "From the very first that man began to influence me. He was so big and strong and clever. He had great ambition 3, and at the same time great weaknesses. The things often go together. He was fond of good living and choice wines and the like, with the result that he was soon up to his eyes in debt and difficulties. As I was in t'ie same wild, lawless set, it was not long before I found myself in a similar position. "Then there was some trouble over a cheque, and Beard vanished from London. 1 was blamed over that affair, but I was ready to swear that I had no hand in the business; all the same, nobody believed me, and 1 found myself shunned everywhere. I was pretty well penniless by this tirhe—in debt, hated, and desperate. Then 1 had a letter from Beard, written all the way from Virginia. He was doing pretty well there; he had settled down and given up everything in the way of drink. He had a big scheme on; if I would go and assist him he would be glad. But there was one stipulation—l must give up drink. If I would pass the word on this, he would send me his draft for £IOO. "I need not tell you that I jumped at the chance. I gave the promise about the drink, and I may say that I have never broken it, never—rior has Beard. Well, I got to my destination in time. I found Beard settled down in that lovely country,but I could see nothing of his scheme. Then gradually the idea came out bit by bit. It had nothing to do with science or discovery, or anything of that kind, it was a pure and simple love story. "Beard had falien in love with Miss Ada Delamere, the only sister of the brothers Delamere. You know who they are, because you saw them to-night. They were the two Virginians who called to see Madame Regnier—Mrs Dunlop-Gordon, as she calls herself." "Go on," Gilbert Doyle murmured. "You are beginning to inteiest me greatly." "I shall interest you still more before I have finished," said Marston drily. "As I just remarked, these l are the Delameres. What they are doing here will appear presently. I had not seen either of them for twenty years, but thby drove up in their car to-night, and I recognised theai at once. I should not have been surprised to find that meeting at Brcckland Lodge end in a tragedy. But I am wandering away from the point again. "Let me tell you that the Delameres belong to one of the first families in Virginia, where caste acts as a kind of religion. These people are very hospitable and open handed, they never show any sign of [ pride so long as race is not in question, but touch them there and they are fanatics. They always marry in their own class, and to go outside is a deadly sin. You know how particular the Jews are on this point. Well, they are not so rigid as the great Virginian families. And when I came to realise all this, and found out. that Beard had made up his mind to marry Ada Delamere, I could see the dark trouble looming ahead of both of us. "A beautiful girl was Ada Delamere, lovely and good, and a great heiress to boot. Beard was pretty deeply in love, but I am quite sure that he would not have sacrificed himself had he not thought of the money; at any rate, he had won the girl's heart, and, as he told me, he went and asked the brothers' consent to the marriage." (To be Continued).