The Scales of Justice

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXX, Issue 8529, 7 September 1907, Page 2

The Scales of Justice

CHAPTER XXVl.—Continued. "Winifred Cawdor!" Flora exclaimed. "How could she possibly oh, there is some mistake here! ' "No, no I Winifrnd is the child of Bernard Beard. Unhappily she gave her hain't to a pitiful scoundrel, who was arrested 0:1 the way to his mar-rjMO-e "Mr Delamere, there is some strange error here," . saiC * earnestly. "Winifred is Winifred Cawdor." She was engaged to a good man, and Beard prevented tin match. By his vile schemes he had the bridegroom arrested on his way to church. The poor fell aw has suffered for the crimes of amther ever since. You understand " . "Come here !" Delamere cried, as his brother entered the hall, have been hearing things with a vengeance. That rascal has deceived even us. Miss Cameron, will you repeat in my brother's hearing what you have told mef" Flora repeated her statement quietly and firmly. The brothers exchanged glances. It was plain that they had information that presented events in quite another light to them. A question looked out of the eyes of each; then both seemed about to speak when Beard came leisurely into the hall. Hq looked more easy and more confidential than he had, done, for years. He came forward and warmed his hands by the glowing fire. "Bitterly cold again," he said. 1 do not remember at this time of the year Wihat?" Mary Cawdor burst into the hall. Her hair had fa'len about her face, which was deadly pale; the others could see that her boots and skirt were thick with mud. ; "Itis about Winifred," she gasped. "I went up to her room a little time ago and could not find her there. She had gone out of the house, so one of the servants told me. And I followed her with an uneasy feeling that something was going to happen. I could see the marks of her feet where the sun had softened the ground, and they led in the direction of the river. The river was at high tide and just on the turn; the water was rushing out to sea like a millrace. I could see footmarks on the sott bank as if somebody had slipped there. y} "You don't mean to say," Beard said —"you don't mean to say that you think " .. "I dare not think," Mary sobbed, "my brain is all on fire. And by the side of the river I found this. It belongs to Winifred." A little fur cap, covered in mud and stained with water. It was a favourite hat of Winifred's, and one she wore for ordinary occasions. With a cry that rang through the house, Beard rushed to the door and tore frantically along in the direction of the river. CHAPTER XXVII. MISGIVINGS. The rest of the little group looked at one another for a moment, nobody speaking. They could hear Beard as he tramped heavily through the hall; the door clanged behind him. The two strangers seemed to be grave and concerned. They had forgotten their mission in the agony of the moment. It was all on the plane of common humanity now. "Yuu may count on our services, Miss Cameron," one of them said. "It matters very Jittle who the young lady is, and what her proper name may be " "She is my sister," Mary said distractedly. "She—she was not altogether responsible for her actions; only she bad never given any indication of violence before, either against herself or anybody else. Oh, Flora, she was one of the gentlest of creatures!" "She was," Flcra said. "Poor little white soul! I do hope that nothing has happened to her. ,v "Well, we can get out and see," the elder Delamere said. "It's a poor thing for strong men to he standing about here when there is work to be done. Miss Cameron, if you will lead the way " "To be sure," Flora cried. "Let us do something before darkness sets in. The idea of that poor little Winifred out there in the cold, and the night

Flora bit her lip to' keep the tears back. She detested tears as a ruleshe was not one of those who shed them—but the picture her imagination conjured up was a piteously sad one. She thought of the poor white bride lying there i:i the water, with the bitterness of the winter evening for her shroud; she thought of the dreadful end to Gilbert Doyle's hopes and aspirations; and yet it seemed almost impossible to believe that this had really happened. It was time for action : the brooding melancholy would come later. She snatched iiu her furs from the hall table; she made Mary don a thick cloak. They might be hours - • the open air yet, and the light wa., "lmost fading already. • 4 lf you gentlemen will foiJow me," she suggested, "I can take you io.the spot where But we need not give up hope yet. You had belter put'on-somothing warm." - Tfaay passed into the drive and acro33 the meadows to -the tidal river that emptied itself into the sea beyond Ledge Point. The tide had turned now, and those slimy, greasy banks of the stream were plain to the j J eye. Standing large against the sky was the huge form of Bernard Beard. ■ His face was ghastiy; despite the coldness of the hour, there were ■ beads of moisture on his forehead. He stoopod down' as the others came up, and pointed to a number of grooves in th2 soft mud.

By FEED M. WHITF, [Published "By Special Arrangement [A.ll Eights Be served.]

"Somebody has beer, h-. vo." he said hoarsely. "You see the marks of ftefc in the ■ leading down to the bank. Thosi. grooves are footmark?, as if somebp Iv slipped hexe. Of course, it is j.nt possible that —oh!"

Board paused, and hi;; voice seemed suddenly to choke. Ha had found something. He lifted irosn a tuft of grass a pair of boots. ila handed them to Mary.

"I hope you will not be able to identify them," he said thickly. "But I can," Mary faltered. "They are Winifred's! But docs it not seem strange tfiat she should have removed her boots before —before "

The poor girl could say no more. It was all very well to try to be brave and collected, but the blinding tears filled her eyes and a great lump rose in her throat. Flora repeated Mary's question more than once before Beard appeared to listen. "Oh, yes!" he said abruptly. "There is nothing strange about it. I have known many similar cases. In my" experience, when a person means to commit —I mean, when anybody develops this kind of mania, it is quite usual to remove certain articles of clothing. I have heard of women doing it, especially with articles of jewellery. It is the last sign of reason in the overturned brain. \ am afraid that this points "

It was Beard's turn to stop, unable to proceed farther. The two Virginians were walking anxiously up and down the banks, as if trying to find something. Already the darkness was falling fast; it would be impossible to see for many minutes longer. "Is there nothing that we can do?" the elder one asked Beard. All signs of enmity between the two men had vanished before the dreadful calamity. ''ls the river swift?" "Only for an hour or two, when the tide is falling," Beard explained. "Usually the river is very slow and sluggish. You were suggesting 1)

"Drags," the other Delamere said. "I daresay we can find what we want in that way at the coastguard station; and we could get some of the men to help us. Also, we had better send these ladies back to the house."

"They must go back," the elder Virginian said firmly. "They can do no good, and their presence here, if the discovery we dread is made " Flora listened and approved. Really Mary and herself could hope to do no good, and the dreadful matter was in far more capable hands than hers. She touched Mary gently on the shoulder. The girl seemed to understand, for she took Flora, by the arm. It was no use trying to be brave and strong any longer. The scalding tears would flow, and Flora was glad to see them. "You had better come home with me," she said. "Mr Delamere is quite right—this is no place for women. Let us go back to the house again." Mary made no objection; she was too dazed and strained for that. In a kind of waking dream she walked alongside Fiora till the house was reached. Flora would have said some® thing to comfort the girl, but words failed her just now. What were words in the face of a great trouble like this? Mary sat with her strained eyes fixed on the hall fire. "Flora," she whispered presently, "Flora do you think that he has anything to do with this? Is" it not possible that he has deemed it best to—to "

The pause was significant. Flora thrilled as she listened to the grim suggestion. "No," she said, after a moment's thought; "I Icel quite sure not. There is one thing that I have never doubted, and that is Bernard Beard's extraordinary affection for Winifred. What manner of love a man like that is capable of feeling, I don't know, but I am certain tSiat he had a passionate attachment for Winifred. is not that "

"I am glad you think so," Mary said, with a shudder. "He seemed dreadfully upset just now, but I fancied that lie was acting. I have still a strong delusion that Bernard Beard is acting a part."

"I wish I could feel it in the same way," Flora murmured. "In that case, I should imagine that Beard had goi. Winifred out of the way .to save an awkward situation with the Delamores. But his distress seemed genuine and spontaneous. Still, it is possible that " Flora paused, conscious of the fact that she was going to utter some common-place sympathy. She could see from the expression of Mary's face that she was only half convinced. One thing, however, was certain — Winifred had suffered no violence at Beard's hands.

"I should like to feel quite certain," Mary said. "I cannot possibly sit here and do nothing. I shall go ma:T if we don't lake action of some kind. As soon as it is quite dark, , T am going as far as the river again. We need not appear, Flora; we can keep out of the way. But I find it impossible to sit here doing nothing." (To be continued.)