The Scales of Justice

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXX, Issue 8539, 20 September 1907, Page 2

The Scales of Justice

CHAPTER XXXlV.—Continued. "Now we will just wait till Anna comes back, and then you are going to walk back with me as far as the Moat House," Flora decided cheerfully. "Can yo ll manage that? And you are not to worry over Gilbert in the least. He will be all right. Anna came in presently and the story of the morning's alarm was told her. She was not disturbed or frightened. She was a match for any warder, she declared. And, on the whole, just now she preferred Miss Winifred's room to her company. She was too likely to forget herself if any fresh, suspicious-looKing visitors arrived. "Oh, yes, 'yes," Winifred cried. "Let u3 get away from here! I should never forgive myself if I did anything likely to harm Gilbert! Let us eo at once, Flora." it was a slow journey, for Winifred was not so strong as she had deemed herself, and more than one halt was called on the way to the Moat House. But the journey was completed at last, and Winifred handed over to the tender care of her sister. Flora noticed how pale and drawn the girl had grown. She clung, as if to something precious, to the shabby jewel-case, without which she never went far. "I'll take care of that wonderful red box of yours," Flora declared. "The first thing you must do is to get to bed and stay there the rest of the day." . Winifred raised no objection. She was tired, she said, and the idea of bed was very grateful. Her weary eyes closed almost before her head was on the pillow, and a minute later she was sleeping as peacefully as a child.

"She'll do for some hours to come," Flora whispered to Mary. "When she wakes up, 1 fancy you will find that she is quite herself. The great thing is to keep her out of Dr Beard's way, and to see that she is not alone with him. If she does, she is sure to betray that Gilbert is close at hand."

"There is no danger of that for a day or two," Mary replied. "A telegram came from Dr Beard when ! you were out, saying that he was likely to be detained in London till Saturday, and that somebody was to pack a portmanteau for him, and send it, to be called for at Charing Cross station. Something is wrong. Flora. Anvway, he does not want us to know his London address." "Well, we are not curious," Flora laughed cheerfully. "It is a relief to know that Winifred is likely to be spared for a day or two." Down in the hall the Virginians were standing discussing affairs in a low tone. Mrs Cameron was still in her room nursing her cold. She had not been downstairs for two days. David Delamere camo from the firej side as Flora entered. "We understand that Beard is not coming. back for a day or two," he said. "In circumstances like these, we feel that we ought not to intrude on your hospitality any longer, Miss Cameron—not that we are going to leave the neighbourhood. We are too interested in the affair for that. We have taken rooms at a farmhouse by the river, and our man has gone to Longtown for our tiaps. And, if you want any assistance, you can rely upon us?" "I am sure you are very good," Flora said. "Why do you take such an incerest in us?"

"Well, it's like this," Delamere ! said, a little awkwardly, Flora thought. "You must not forget that for years we have regarded Miss Winifred Cawdor 2S being the daughter of our sister Ada. It was because we deemed Ada to be the mother of a child that we spared Beard. We thought that he had taken the child with him, and we left it at that. And Ada seemed to be resigned—anything so long as no harm came to Beard'; for she loved that scoundrel to the end of her life. Ic was only when she was dying that she partly told us the truth. We came here to test that truth, and Beard told us, like the perjured rascal that he is, that she was his child. But, unhappily for the success of his scheme, Marston was near to tell the proper story, and we know that Miss Winifred Cawdor is Mis<j Cawdor and not Miss Beard." "She is a dear, good girl, anyway," Flora said warmly. "She is. We saw her to-day; and we saw Mr Gilbert Doyle also, and heard his story, and he is an innocent man, if ever there was one. We eould not but be interested in the girl, although she did not prove to be our own flesh and blood. And when we listened to her pitiful romancp, we made up our minds to help her—didn't we, Stephen" "We made up our minds to help her even without consulting each other," Stephen Dehunere said. He had wandered over to the side-table where Fiora had laid the shabby red jewel-case, and had taken it in his hand. "Now, I wonder how this came here? used to belong to Ada. Perhap. -'he gave it to the little one, or per;.np3 Beard gave it to Miss Cawdor. Anyway, Ada used to have this cn her dressing-table as a child."

"Ave vou quite sure that it is the same one," Flora asked. "Perfectly sure," Stephen Delamere declared. "There is a way of opening it without the key for anybody who knows the secret. If my way fails, then I was wrong. Miss Cameron, will you see if you can open the box? It is not so very i complicated." Flora avowed her willingness to try, but she could not succeed. The box was better made than the shabby leather would lead anybody to believe. She passe J the case over to Stephen Delamere, who placed both hands on

By FRED ML WHITE,'

[Published By Special Arrangement.] [All Rights Reserved.]

the lid and pressed down the little fingers. In an instant the lid of the box flew open, and disclosed a mass of carefully-folded papers inside. They had seals upon them, and a heavy scroll heading. Thsy crackled to the touch.

"These look like legal papers of some kind." Delamere said, as he opened one of the documents, and laid it open on the table. "They are legal documents. Good heavens!" The speaker staggered back, his eyes dilated, his lips quivering. "Bonds!" he said hoarsely. "Railway bonds of great value! Negotiable, too! Great Pacific Railway. Why, these are the bonds missing from the Southern Star, the very bonds that Gilbert Doyle was sent to gaol for stealing!" CHAPTER XXXV. THE MISSING BONDS. The listeners trembled as they watched Delamere turning the papers over in his hand. If he was right, then a great discovery had been made. But it was open to doubt whether or not these were actually the papers for which Gilbert Doyle had suffered so much. "There is no shadow of doubt about it," Delamere said presently. "I remember ail about the Southern Star affair, because a friend of mine was more or less concerned in it; in fact, some of the stolen property belonged to him—Banbury shares, and so on. The question is, how did the papers get into that box, and why did Winifred Cawdor take such care of it?"

Nobody was in a position to answer the question. It was Flora who spoke at length. "I don't think .Winifred could have had them," she said. "She could not have known tha value of that box. She had a great fondness for it; she seemed to regard it as much as a child regards a favourite doll. But that I put down to a weak intellect."

"I should say, rather, it was somereminiscence of a bygone caution," said Delamere. "What I mean is, that when she was well she was told to take great care of those papers, and that when her illness came upon her she forgot where she had put them. I feel that the papers were given to Miss Cawdor by Dr Beard on some pressing occasion, and that he has been trying to find out what she has done with them, ever since. That would account for his tender solicitude over the poor child's welfare. We can see, at any rate."

"You have some scheme in your mind?" Flora asked

''Well, yes," Delamere responded. "1 have. When Miss Winifred has had her sleep out, I should like to talk to her. Whether she aids us or not, I can see my way to lay a very pretty trap for Beard. Only one thing I must impress upon all—Miss Winifred must' not get the slightest idea of the value of the papers." Both Flora and Mary could follow Delamere's reasoning. From the expression of her face, Mary was thinking more about the happiness of her sister than anything else. "Do you think that the truth is going to come out?" she asked eagerly. "That the guilt will be traced to the proper people. If so, Gilbert will be free."

"Gilbert Doyle is going to be free," Delamere said, with a slow ring in his voice. "Let us hope that there are many, many, happy years before your sister yet. Providence is fighting on our side; the wrong is going to be righted, and the guilty punished. We are merely instruments in the hands of a higher Power. Who can doubt it, after the wonderful way in which the red box came under our notice., We were led to come over here, if only to identify that jewel-case. The rest was all part of the scheme. But we can do nothing till Miss Winifred wakes."

As a matter of fact, there was little to be done when Winifred did awake. She was greatly refreshed; she professed that her head was clearer than it had been for a long time, but she could not give Delamere much assistance. She seemed delighted to hear that the way of opening the box had been discovered.

"I have lost the secret" she said. "I have had that box for ages. I don't know why I was so fond of it, except that nobody could open it but myself. Then I forgot how to work the spring. I forgot nearly everything after my illness. I seem to have some misty idea that I had to take care of something, and that I had that something in the box. And yet I have not the remotest idea what it was."

Delamere produced one of the bonds missing. ' It was rather an at-tractive-looking document. A gleam of recognition came into Winifred's blue eyes. (To be Continued).