The Scales of Justice

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXX, Issue 8537, 18 September 1907, Page 2

The Scales of Justice

CHAPTER XXXlll.—Continued, "She does," Delamere admitted; "though it is hard to see how you know that." "I do know it, and I will explain presently," Gilbert went en. "It was Madame Regnier who stole the bonds and laid the trap for me. That has always been plain. What 1 have found since my escape is the name of the man who planned the thing out. I knew him on board ship as Dr. Comperton. When I met Beard I recognised Compercon at once. To make the thing quite plain, Beard •was a friend of the Cawdor family. He never appeared whilst I was in their hoSise. He could not do that, as I should have recognised my acquaintance at once. It was he who planned my ruin." "• "I begin to understand," Delamere said thoughtfully. "Why did he do that?" "To get me out of the way. I stand between him and his schemes, because I was going to marry little Winifred here. Once the marriage was solemnised Winifred would have inarched out of that scoundrel's sphere of action. He could no longer pass Winifred off as his daughter. At any rate, that is what you imagined. After the death of Mr Cawdor, Winifred came down to the Moat House, and then deception was far easier."

•«j see—l see," Delamere murmured. "Everything is getting plain. Beard suspected that we were keeping an eve on him; hence the present friction. But are you quite sure that this young lady is not Miss Winifred Beard, after all?" "When you have seen her side by side with her sister, you will not have any doubt," Gilbert went on. "Besides, 1 have another authority to prove how you were deceived in New York. When you found your sister, she knew that you must kill her husband at sight. You were not likely to be less determined on that score after you discovered that she had been abandoned by Beard. It is a strange thing that the greater rascal a man is, the closer does a woman cling to him. That was the case with you- sister. To protect hei* husband from your vengeance, she made the story of the child up. She borrowed a little one from her friend, Mrs Cawdor, to make the deception perfect. But surely you know this."

"We suspected it," Delamere said. "My sister made a half confession before she died. But we honestly regarded the child as hers, even though she intimated to us that Beard had como and taken the baby away with him. But our suspicions were aroused on her deathbed. She meant to tell us everything, but there was no time. But we should, like to know where you discovered all this." "It does seem strange that I should know so mucb,' ; Gilbert said, "more, even, than you yourself, though I am a perfect stranger to you. I had; the story in detail from a man named ; James Marston, who lives not far from here." The Virginians exchanged glances. It was evident the name was familiar. "That explains everything," David Delamere went on. "Of course, we know Mr Marston. He came out South with Beard. Indeed, his presence was necessary to the successful plot that ended in the marriage of our unhappy sister. When our blood was hot, and the sense of injury strong upon us, we should have killed James Marston as ruthlessly as we should have killed Bernard Beard. But the lapse of twenty years makes a deal of difference. There are other and innocent lives entangled in the tragedy, and we should hesitate to cast a shadow there. But we have a punishment for Beard —oh, yep, we have a punishment for him S" The speaker's eyes burned, and his voice grew stern as he spoke of Beard. The brother turned to Gilbert.

"We should like to have a talk with Marston," he said. "Is he far off?" Gilbert explained he was quite near. There was a path through the woods leading to Marston's cottage, and he was willing to take the strangers here. "But not if there is going to be any strife," he said. "If you mean harm to Marston " .-"Why should we?" David demanded. "If we spare the principal, why should we destrey the assistant? You speak as if the man was ill." "He is slowly dying of a mortal disease," Gilbert explained. "He is suffering from cancer. He has not the deadly sweating terror of you displayed by Beard on more than oie occasion. In fact, he laughed at the idea of coming in contact with you. But for his little girl he would have welcomed death' long ago. He does not drink and he is too brave a man to end his days by his own hand. You would like to see him?" "But them is a certain element of risk," Winifred suggested uneasily. "Do iu.: go, Gilbert." The Virginia),., watched the pretty solicitude with much admiration. Gilbert kissed the girl and put her a3ide gently. There was really nothing to be afraid of."People will be continually coming to see you," he said. "There is more danger for me here than in the j woods. And, in any case, I shall not be gone long." The trio presently struck the woodland path that led to Marston's cottage. They strode in silence for some time before David Delamere spoke. , "You have all my wishes for your speedy release, sir." he said. "My j heart fairly bleeds for that pretty [j girl and her troubles. I almost wish. [ that she was Beard's daughter,'

By FEED XML WHITE,

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though it is just as well, perhaps, that that scoundrel has no children." "Then you are quite convinced of the truth of what I told you?" Gilbert said eagerly. "Mr Delamere, I implore you not to io anything rash. There have been tragedies and miseries enough in Winifred's ,short making her the central figure in another tragedy. Whatever happens, my little girl must be spared that." "She shall," Delamere declared. "And you can reckon that my brother and myself will do our best to be the friends of both of you. We know a thing or two about Madame Regnier, and if there is anybody who can make her speak, we are the men. Is this the cottage?" Gilbert explained that it was. Marston was at home, smoking his pipe, and passing his few leisure moments in filling cartridge cass. A gun lay on the table, and Marston pointed to it grimly as his visitor entered. "You've come just in time," he said. "There is the man, and there is the gun. When the whole thing comes to be told, it will make an exciting column or two for one of the yellow papers. And you can put emphasis on the fact that I died game." "You don't seem to have lost any of your coolness," Delamere said gravely. "I haven't. I never knew what nerves meant. But that is not the real reason why I am not in the least afraid of you. Mr Doyle may have told you what I am suffering from. Look at my grey hair and the hollow lines in my face. That is pain, pain so fierce and grinding that it leaves me old and feeble afterwards. Anything calculated to* end that pain would be release. If you shoot me now you would be doing me a great kindness." The man was speaking thejplain truth. Gilbert was surprised'to see how kindly the two Virginians were regarding him. "We have no quarrel with a dying man," Delamere said. "Indeed, we have changed our minds materially during the last few days. We did not come here with any murderous intent; we came to hear the truth — the truth about our sister's child." "There is no sister's child," Marston said. "That was all part of the scheme. If you like, I can give you such information as will show you that Mrs Cawdor's two girls were registered in New York—l mean registered after their birth. I think that will go a long way to give Beard's statement the lie." The Virginians nodded; they wanted no further proofs. Marston took some papers from a little safe, and began to sort them. Gilbert moved to the door. "I don't think I will intrude longer," he said. "After all, this is no business of mine, and I want to get back to the cottage. Is there anything else that I can do?" But there was nothing' else for Gilbert to do for the present. They were infinitely obliged to him;, they would come back presently and discuss Madame Regnier with a view to finding out means to make that lady tell the true story of the stolen bonds. Bujt, first of all, it was necessary to have proofs whereby Beard's iitory might be nailed to the ( the counter.

"Then I shall look for you later in the afternoon," Gilbert said. "Only be cautious, please." He closed the cottage door and made his way. into the woods. Nobody was about; it was not likely he would meet anybody but a stray keeper or two; for the woodland path led to nowhere, and it was dark and dreary at this time of the year. Nevertheless, Gilbert did not abate a jot of his caution. He was prepared at any moment to dart in cover if he saw anybody coming. Therefore he was all the more sur ■ prised on turning into a thick ride to find Winifred meeting him. She was looking quite pale and anxious, and the old terror was still upon her. Gilbert's heart smote against his ribs despairingly. He had hoped.that the shock of seeing him again had resulted in a permanent cure, and yet here she was, looking wild and anxious and hunted. He came close to her before she was aware of his presence. "My darling, what is the matter?" Gilbert whispered. Winifred held up her hands with a gesture commanding silence. Her eyes were misty and far away. Poor Winifred's cure was going to be a slow one. "Hush," she said. "I have seen them. They have come to drag you back to prison." Gilbert passed his hand over the girl's eyes and kissed her. He held her to him till she could see nothing, and feel nothing but the beating of his heart. (To be Continued). "I hav* used Chamberlain's Coli"., Cholera and Diarrhoea llernedy, and tpeak with experence,'' sa\s Mr P. Scbmaka, Paddington, W.A. "L never known it to fail in an attack of colic, cramps or diarrDoea, so always recommend it to my friends and customers. To my mind no mother should be without a bottle of Chamberlain's Colic, Cholera, and Diarrhoea Be-tiedy in the house." For sale by all dealers.