THREE MEN AND A MAID.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXI, Issue 9038, 3 March 1908, Page 2

THREE MEN AND A MAID.

CHAPTER XX.—Continued. "Here you have a quite tangible xplanation of ihe suppressed will — -•runted, 1 repeat, that Hardinge's •ross-exiiminat'on foreshadowed a ■ mown fact. Hut let that wait until we review 'natters. 11 was the vista j£ matrimonial blisi that warped my judgiTu-nt. I wantud to make it impossible for Warren to marry Marjorie, so I did a clumsy and shortsighted thing—l wiped Robert's iword slightly o:i his handkerchief, stuffed the linen where it would surely be found, and hid the sword in the bank of the little stream, under some alder bushes south-east of the church. My intent was to cause a hubbub about a murder rather than a duel. I had an indefinite notion that Warren might .escape, and, without pretending to an excess of virtue, I should never have allowed him to suffer death for Hannah's madness, j Imprisonment? yes, perhaps, seeing that he crossed my path so unexpectedly afterwards, when my pursuit of Marjorie had become a mania. But not the halter! I could not have endured that. "Well, I have little more to write. Have I convinced you, I wonder? At'any rate, I have assuredly surprised you. I trust you bear me no ill will for spoiling a cause celebre. Even in its new edition, the Hudston tragedy will make the nation gape. But candidly, I detest this gaol. Get me out! 1 "shall stand to my guns. "Yours very sincerely, "JAMES COURTHOPE."

Enclosed with the letter was a brief note from the superintendent at Nutworth, ending with the question: ■"What do you think of it all?" "I know what, I think," growled Winter, when his faculties resumed their normal functions. "I think that James Courthope is the biggest " Well, What the detective really meant was that he had never read a more callous, plausible, and, in parts, astou..dingly candid document in his life.

That Hannah had killed Robert Courthope in the way described he had no doubt whatever; that James meant to throw the whole onus of the suppression of the will on Bennett's shoulders was equally clear. But Winter gratified his annoyance by indulging in a malicious * little grin when he reflected on the stubborness of the legal lion in James' path.

™ "No, my beauty," he hissed, "the scent is too good for a red herring to be of any use. You'll do time all .right. I'll see to that," and he emphasised the personal pronouns with ■a. spiteful gusto. But there remained the problem of Hannah. He rose early, kicked a chair cut of his path, and went downstairs to the waiting constable: "Go to the Greyhound hotel." he said, "arid ask Miss Hannah Neyland if she will come and see me as soon as possible." That was the best plan, he thought. Hannah would imagine that he had news of Marjorie for he would inveigle her to Nut worth on some pretext, and then the law must take its course. At any rate the unhappy girl would be spared the indignity of arrest in her own hoirie, and there was not the slightest chance of her conviction on a more serious charge than manslaughter. The policeman returned. "Miss Neyland is not up yel," he said.

"Hum," muttered Winter. "Didn't , one of the maids go to her room?" "Yes/ but the girl said that Miss Hannah must be tired, as there was no answer."

"Wait there," cried the detective, roused to sudden haste. He went to the Greyhound, and found Jonas. "Go to your daughter's bedroom .and waken her," he said. "I want to ■see her. Tell her 1 have a message from James Courthope for her." It could hot be helped. The hotel was in an uproar before they forced the lock of that silent room in the gable. Hannah, fully dressed, was lying on the bed. She had poisoned herself with arsenic, which Jonas kept in the house for treating horse ailments.

She, - too, had passed the night in thought, and had mastered reason. Unlike James Courthope, she was i'aithfui to the end. She had written and signed a few words, and what she said deserves at least the ■ commendation of those who know what it means to be torn and harried by an all-powerful passion. "I meant to kill my sister," she wrote, "but that would not save the man I love And Marjorie never really injured me. It was fate. Who can struggle against fate? I killed Robert Courthope. I did not know I had killed him until I heard the doctors at the inquest. I believe James knew 1 had done it, but he never said a word. Perhaps he has loved me all the time, and is ready now to die in order to save me. But I cannot let him suffer. He is innocent. He must b3 set at liberty. I killed Robert by sticking a sword in to him. It was Warren's sword, and .1 only meant to show everybody who had done it, because las sure the Squire was dead after the fight. There were other things I didn't understand, about the letters and the missing sword. That is why I believe James knew about me. Jamss dear, don't grieve for me. I acted for the best, but I was all wrong. I hope I am doing right now, for your sake." Seeing that this story of human love a-ul suffering has been brought to a close by two letters of tragic import, it may be well to place on record one other missive in which a cheerier tone is found. The writer is Mr Inspector Winter, and the date is nearly two years after the York Winter Assizes held subsequently to Hannah's death. It runs:--

"Dear Mr Warren, I was very pleased to receive

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

THE END

such a kind message from Mrs Warren and yourself,. I shall certainly avail myself of your hospitality next month, as I am very fond of rabbit-shooting. I suppose that by nature I am something of a ferret-—hen:e my hostility to rabbits, f carried out your commission yesterday. The officials at Portland gave the men my letter, and they both called on me after arriving in London. They look uncommonly well. I have noticed that fact so often in regard to discharged convicts that I am forced to the conclusion that our penal settlements are really first-rate health resorts. James Courthope professed to be overwhelmed by Mrs Warren's goodness in giving him such a handsome annuity; but he is a rogue at heart, and I am glad there is a stipulation that he leaves the country. Of course, he is a clever man, and, if he keeps straight, he may get on well in South America. At any rate, you have behaved splendidly to him, far better than he deserves. As for Bennett, your gift will enable him to look about for work, and he will find plenty. London has a large supply of shady solicitors, who only employ sharps of their own kidney. "I have been engaged recently on a fine case, the impersonation of a dead man by a woman. Nothing has appeared in the papers as yet, and may never do so, but it puzzled me.for six months. So, for one evening, at least, I promise to keep Mrs Warren, you. and the Vicar interested.

"With all good wishes for the New Year, and the hope that I may soon roam over that wonderful moor of yours in an "unprofessional capacity,

"I remain, yours very sincerely, "FREDERIC J. WINTER."

Oddly enough, when Mr Winter arrived in Hudston, he took Felix into the churchyard or.e' morning, a'nd asked to be shown Hannah's grave. To his surprise, he found a very beautiful wreath deposited there. Its flowers, imported from the south of France, aroused his curiosity, and he questioned the sexton. "Ay," said the man, "it kem frae Lunnon. Mrs Warren often brings floers, but this is t' first I've had frae Lunnon."

Winter smoked vigorously in silence for some minutes. Then lie snapped his fingers and growled: "It may be yours, James. If it is, you have softened a bit, but you have a rogue's heart, all the same. And, if it hadn't been for that poor girl lying there. I would have hanged you — sure thing. And I would have done right, too. For you killed Robert Courthope. The hand was the hand of Hannah, but the voice was the voice of James."