PAOLINA OR THE MILLIONAIRE'S PLOT.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10190, 16 March 1911, Page 2

PAOLINA OR THE MILLIONAIRE'S PLOT.

OUR SERIAL.

By MARIPOSA WEIR. Author of "Evadyne's Temptation," "A Chase Round the World," et^.

CHAPT ER L.—Continued

Eagburn folt Hector's hand tremble as it grasped his arm. He leaned upon it more heavily than before, and stared wildly at Huntingdon, then at Osborne. "Had you better not tell him in plain terms what has happened?" Kiiid tho doctor, addressing Huntingdon . Tho latter glanced at Hagburn and Zip an instant. Then, fixing his eyes upon Hector, he said : "Come in, since you have expressed your resolution to see Miss Huntingdon, you shall be gratified." Osborne looked surprised and shocked, but said nothing.

stepped softly into the room, followed by Hector. The nails had been.removed a few hours before. A largo bed now occupied one end of the room. Upon it was stretched a human figure, the attitude of which, together with the arrangement of the

"Come in," repeated Huntingdon, with emphasis, as he extended the invitation to Hector's "friends" "and the rest of your band, if such is your pleasure."

"I accept your" very courteous invitation for myself and my friends," said Hector. "As to the rest of my 'baud,' as you are pleased to designate it, I prefer that they should remain where they are, to guard us against interruption." Huntingdon led the way into the library, followed by Doctor Osborne, Hector, Dade, Hagburn, and the Chic-

kadee. "You will naturally wish to have I this interview over as soon as pos- ' sible," said Hector. "It need occupy but a few minutes, if you will have the •goodness to send for Miss Cranch. After asking her a single question in the presence of these witnesses, I will be ready to depart at once." "I have no messenger at my. command, young man," said Huntingdon, with solemn sternness, "who. can convey your summons to my niece. She died at half-past three o'clock tliis afternoon, of a sudden attack of congestion of the brain." As he spoke he lookod toward Dr Osborne, as if to refer Hector to him, as a physician, for any further information he might require. Osborne saw the look, and replied to it: • "I was not the attending physicianLife was already extinct, or nearly so, when I arrived." When Huntingdon announced , k tho death of his niece, Hector turned ghastly pale, and sank into the chair, on the back of which he was leaning. The doctor regarded him with sympathy. For a minute perfect siieiice was preserved, with the exception of : Osborne's disclaimer of having been present as attending physician; i ; flhen Hector sprang to his feet, in fearful agitation. "It's a lie," he cried hoarsely. "I will not believe it. She'is not dead, or, if she is, she has been foully*murdered!" _—-■"'" "It's my idee," said Zip, "that there's been more villainy in the chloroformin' line. It's my idee, sir, that if these premises were searched, there's, a party of the name of GooberJay .that would turn up-somewheres. j P'raps in the garrit, p'r'aps in the I coal hole; but I'd lay two to one he'd, /•.urn up somewheres." '3untingdon eyed the speaker as if Jio were some curious species of bug in which he took an entomological interest, but said nothing. Osborne looked surprised*. ' . , "he said, ' 'is in fact the name of the physician whom I found in charge of the case. But there can be no doubt.of the young lady's death. I fear that the fever and the congestion which terminated so fatally were brought on by the exciting circumstances of her removal from San Francisco." "I must see her," cried Hector, almost fiercely. "Where is she? Wlio will conduct me?" Osborne glanced toward Huntingdon and the latter nodded his acquiescence. "Come with me," said' the doctor.

pillows and the furniture of the bed, had something of the ghastly formality of death. At the opposite extremity of the long apartment sat Madame Campan, with a small table beside her. There was an old-fashioned astral lamp on this table, which supplied all the light of the room. Consequently, the bed lay in deep shadow. Hector bent over the form that lay upon the bed, looking so white and chill. "Bring the lamp!" he said at last. Then, looking at the Frenchwoman for the first time, he recognised her. / "Ha," he said. . "I have seen you before. Where is your confederate, the poisoner?" As he spoke he crossed the roonrjand took up the lamp. Returning to the bed, with the lamp j in his hand, he laid the other on the forehead of .the sleeper, then upon the cheek. They seemed to have neither the chill of death nor the warmth of life. But, as his eyese rested once more upon the countenance, all hope, fled. Upon it had settled the unmistakable pallor of deatH. There was a bluish circle beneath the eyes, which already had a sunken look; the lips had lost their colour, and there were expressive lines about the base of the nose that bore ghastly witness to the j fact of physical dissolution. As this conviction forced itself /upon him his strength gave way. His features worked convulsively for a moment ; then a tear or two rolled down his cheeks.' The'doctor, moved by the piteous spectacle, moved away. Hector set the lamp upon the floor, and, bending over the corpse, kissed the forehead and the pale lips. "Oh, Lina," he moaned. "Are you indeed gone from me for ever? Can you not speak to me." "Had you not better come away," said Osborne, gently. But Hector did not hear him. He was kneeling beside the bed, with his face clasped in his hands. .. At this moment the door opened noiselessly, and Huntingdon approached, and looked steadily and long upon the face oft lie corpse. The only notice that he took of the figure kneeling by the bed was a cold, cynical, -glance that had in it something/of contempt, but not a'trace of pity. Gliding froni the room as noiselessly as he had entered it, he "walked rapidly to the end

of and tapped at the door of the last room. •' A step approached, a key was turn-

Ed in the lock, and the door wa sopenI ed by Grandin. < "I have something to attend to that ought not to be postponed," said Huntingdon. "Your learned chemist has overdone tho job/and made a mistake. The girl is dead." Grandin's.face becamo ghastly. < "It cannot be," he said, m an unnatural voice. "He swore that there was not the slightest danger. But if it is as you say, his life shall pay the forfeit." * : t- ■■'

"That will not bring her back," returned the other. "I have this minute looked at her, and there can bo no uncertainty that the last spai'k of life is extinct through seme terrible blunder. There are even indications that physical decomposition has set in." .. "You must be mistaken," returned the other; but his voice showed that he was terribly alarmed. "Who is now in the room beside the Frenchwoman ?

Hector rose and followed him without a word. The others remained in the library. Osborne ascended the stairs, and tapped at the door opening from the hall into the large sitting room. As was stated in a previous chapter, this door was nailed up at the time of Paolina's introduction into the house, leaving no communication between the suite of apartments assigned to her and the rest of the house, except through Madame Campan's bedroom. A thick, harsh voice from within replied: 1 "Entrez." The doctor opened the door, and

"Osborne and the young man North. You can do as you please, but I think I shall take my leave, if I can run the blockade. I believe I have played the part assigned me, and I do not see I can be of any further use. It is an extremely disagreeable piece of business." His manner showed no agitation. He spoke of the murder of his niece, who had idolized him, as an "extremely disagreeable piece of business." "Are you about to desert me?" said Grandin, in such an hour as this." Huntingdon seemed for a moment too astonished by this appeal to be able to reply to it.

(To Be Continued.)