UNDER A STRANGE MASK.

Waikato Argus, Volume V, Issue 351, 8 October 1898, Page 1 (Supplement)

UNDER A STRANGE MASK.

gttorjjteUcr.

BY FRANK BARRETT.

CHAPTER XVIII. —THE ADVERSARY BEATEN J THE GAME WON. Travel how you may, k takes a Ion" time to go from Coneyford to London and back. I reached home too late to see Redlands that night, but I saw him early the next morning, and told him all that I had done and learnt. Finally putting John Baker's confession in his hand, with an envelope on which I had written Marian's address at Exeter, I said—'There, my lord, take these papers to Miss Sylvester and make her happy.' I expected him to seize them with a cry of joy, and rush out of the house without another word, but taking the confession he quietly seated himself and began to read it with the soberness of a judge. •Aren't you pleased with the result of the inquiry V I asked. 'lt is more than I expected,' he replied, without raising his eyes from the paper. • Nothing happened whilst I was absent yesterday f I asked, thinking something roust have gone wrong to explain his strange coolness, as it seemed to me.

' I saw those two fellows at the Court'—he looked up now. 'We must pay them, Keene. They must not suspect) that we are acting together for their overthrow. 1 pretended to be greatly annoyed that you were not to be found in your office, making that an excuse f»r not closing at once with their offer. They were quite satisfied — so was I.' He said this with a meaning in his tone that I could not fathom, then he went on reading again. * There's a train to Exeter at half-past ten,' said I, looking at my watch. He nodded and read on.

' Surely, my lord, you are going to take the good news to Miss Sylvester.' ' No,' still running his eyes down the lines—' but I'm reading this paper as quickly as you will let me in order that you may.' ' Certainly ; if you won't go, I will,' said I, rather testily, for I was disappointed by his manner. It seemed to me that he was the fittest person to give this joyful news to poor Marian. I went out, got my hat and gloves, and returned to the office ; he was just finishing the confession.

• There you are,' said he, rising, and putting it in my hand. ' I shall go over to the Court and tell them that you are not at home again; that will keep them here another day. Oh, we mustn't let them slip through our fingers!' ' And is it to prevent them escaping that you prefer to hang about here instead of carrying happiness to her 7

He shook his head, smiling at my evident discontent. ' No; but there is not enough there to iustify my breaking a promise to respect Miss Sylvester's seclusion. I shall not go to her until she can be my wife.'

' Why, what on earth is to prevent her doing that novr V I cried. 1 She refused because she believed her grandfather was a criminal ; now that it is proved that he is nothing of the kind she can have no reason for refusing.'

' You don't know her so well as I do,' he replied, still smiling. 1 Well, that's a good one!' I exclaimed, forgetting my professional etiquette and everything else in my feeling as a friend towards Marian. ' Why, I knew her when she was a baby, and I've not lost sight of her since; and I know, perhaps better than you do, ray lord, that she's a sensible young woman.

' Perhaps so; but you lose sight of the fact that she's sensitive as well. That confession proves that her grandfather is not a criminal, but it proves also that the man who attributes to himself the commission of such a crime for the mean purpose of obtaining possession of an estate, must morally be as despicable as though he had actually done the deed. Miss Sylvester would never accept a- farthing of that man's money. And though she might be sensible enough to become my wife despite her poverty, she would never give me her hand whilst she thought that in its blood was the taint of madness, or of a vice that is worse than madness.' 1 We'll soon see about that,' said I, clapping on my hat. ' I warrant I'll change your opinion of her when we meet to-morrow morning.'

He laughed ; but I had no time to point o-Ato him that he might strain senti.uent on his side, but that Marian was too practical for any such nonsense; so off I went without saying 'Good morning' even, for I was vexed.

I found poor Marian at her relative's at Exeter, and wan and pale and unhappy she looked. Jt was clear enough to me that those who had been so effusively affectionate in the summer, when she was mistress of Dalegrove, were considerably cooler now that t>he was but a

'poor outcast,' as they had the impudence to call her. I told her everything from beginning to end. She became greatly excited as I went through my narrative, her eyes sparkling with gladness, and her sweet, pretty lips curving in happy smiles, as I cleared her grandfather from the suspicion of guilt. And when, coming to an end, I paused to wipe the perspiration from my head—for J was as much excited as she — she drew a deep sigh of gladness, and bent in wonder over the confession I had put in her hand. ' Ah,' thought I, ' you are not such a little stupid as your sweetheart thinks.' But just then I heard a little 'pat,' and then another 'pat, pat,' that sounded ominous, and I saw that the tears were falling from her eyes on to the paper. ' You are not unhappy, my dear V said I, with a misgiving. ' Ob, no, no, no !' she cried, lookin" up with a face that belied her tears. 'He knew —at least, he believed—my grandfather guilty of that crime the last time we met.' ' Yes,' said I. • And yet he would have made me his wife,' she said, with trembling rapture in her voice. ' Yes,' said I, forgetting myself again ; ' but hang me if he hasn't changed his mind now he knows for a certainty the old man is innocent.'

'lnnocent!' she cried, bending her brows in anger. 'Do you call him innocent who would take upon himself the shame of crime, who would burden me with a sense of that shame and disgrace for the vilest of mercenary motives 1 Do you call him innocent 1 I do not; and it is because he, my dear lover, understands me and knows how I value his honour and my own that he spares me the humiliation and grief of another interview.' 'Well, I don't understand you young people, and your new-fangled notions,' said I; nor did I—partly perhaps because I am a lawyer, and partly because I am what is called an old fogey. I was glum enough when I met Redlands the next day, and he seemed particularly amused at my discomfiture. His high spirits perplexed me. ' Well,' said I, ' I took the good news to Miss Sylvester ; but she's no better pleased with it than you are.'

'I knew it,' he cried joyfully; ' I knew it. Never mind,' he added, in a still more exultant tone, ' I shall carry better news before long, please Heaven.' 'Why, what has happened?' I asked. ' Nothing.' 1 Then what better news have we to expect V 'That, I will not tell till my belief is confirmed —or overthrown; then, his voice growing suddenly grave : 'it will be bad enough for one to suffer if my hopes aro not realised. Oh, that we had that telegram from Bingham !' 'lt will come to-morrow or the next day, but it can only confirm what we know already.' ' No,' he replied with conviction ; ' I hope to goodness it may not, that it may show you in error, and justify my hope.' Now this puzzled me excessively, and I could make nothing of it; but there was no getting a word of explanation out of Redlands then. He was determined, if his hopes were annihilated, to bear the bitter disappointment alone. Nothing particular happened that day. I received a letter from old Sylvester, demanding the instant delivery of the deeds, or threatening immediate legal proceedings. I had threatened legal proceedings myself, often enongh, to care not a dump for this menace. I held the deeds, and did not mean to part with them till ' legal proceedings ' compelled me. Also one of the servants, who had abandoned the Court, called on me to deliver the latch-key of the back door, which she had taken away in the hurry of her flight. 'Keep the key,' said Redlands when I told him ; 'we may want it. And double lock your strong room.'

At length the telegram from Bingham arrived. Redlands was pacing impatiently to and fro in my office when it was handed in. It ran thus:— ' Arrived at Amain" this morning. Sylvester left here two months ago with Lestrangc; it is believed they removed to Ravello. I am going there at once to seek them. Conflicting descriptions of Sylvester ; nothing known of his receiving any injury to his hand. Lestrangc, age about 36, formerly an actor, gave up the stage some time back, in consequence of an accident. He has only

three fingers on his right hand.'

Now this seemed to me to advance matters not a jot, and I was thinking that the message was worth nothing; hut Redlands, with a shout of joy, snatched the paper from my hand, and read it again, the paper trembling in his feverish grasp. 1 Victory !' he cried ; ' victory !' 'I don't see it; I wish I did, said I. 'To begin with, there's an error, for Lestrange has as many fingers as I have, that I'll swear.' 'And I,' cried Redlands, 'will swear he has but three.'

' What, that secretarv whom 1 '

' The secretary is not Lestrange at all,' he cried, 'no more than the old man is Sylvester.''

' What!' I gasped. ' You think that the old man is Lestrange in disguise—a man who, you read, is 36 '

' I am sure of it,' he broke in ; ' I have been sure of it for days past. I saw at once that he might be, not an old man made up to look young, but a young man made up to look old.'

This explanation took my breath away. ' I am now convinced,' he went on. 'We know now why he carries his hand in a sling.'

There is nothing more simple in the world than a conjuring trick when you have been shown how it's done ; and now nothing appeared more clear to me than the mystery of this Sylvester-Lestrange affair, now that Redlands had explained it.

' You ought to have been a lawyer, my lord,' said 1; 'I am a fool beside you, and willingly accept your guidance henceforth. What are we to do f

' Send for your trap, Keene. We must go over to the Court; and put that key of the back door in your pocket.' Ic was on the stroke of eight, and a pitch-dark night, when the gig came to the door.

' You use a walking stick, Keene?' said Redlands, interrogatively. «Yes; there are half-a-dozen in the hall there,' I replied. He chose a couple of thick, solid oak saplings, handed one to me, and takingthe other himself, swung it in the air, testing its weight. ' Ihey'll do; now come along,' said he.

It was half-past nine when we reached the outskirts of Soecliff. Not a soul was about. We took the gig into the avenue leading to the church, and tied the reins to a tree. Then we put out the gig lamps, and made our way along the avenue and into the churchyard. ' Now we must be silent,' whispered "Redlands. Noiselessly and carefully we passed through the little wicket at the side of the churchyard, and entered the shrubbery that divides it from the Court. We heard not a sound until we came on to the lawn in front of the house, aud there we caught the click of billiard balls. Redlands nudged my elbow, and pointed to the chink of light coming through the shutters of the front room ; then he whispered—- • Round to the back door; which is the way V I knew the way well enough, and round we went as silently as we had come hither. I put the key gently into the door-lock and turned it. The next minute we were inside the servants' hall and the door closed behind us.

'Do you know the way to the billiard-room V whispered Redlands.

' Yes ; come on,' said I

We threaded the passages and came at length into th<? hall. It was as dark as night, but a thread of light on the ground to the right of us showed the door of the billiardroom, and now we heard more plainly than before the click of the balls, with occasionally a word and a laugh. We got close up to the door, and Redlands laid his hand gently on the handle. ,

' Are you ready, Keene ?' he whispered. I had reserved ray stick, seeing what we were in for, and now grasping it tightly by the thin end, I replied, ' All right; burst in on the villains !' ' Bang !' went the door as it flew back, and there stood the pair of rascals before U3—the man who called himself Lestrange at one end of the board, the real Lestrange at the other ; the first leaning on his cue, the second taking a shot at the red, his cue deftly held by three fingers. The index was cut short off.

I shall never forget the look of him as he turned sharply round, He was in his shirt sleeves ; his face was still made up, in case of a vieitor calling, but for the convenience of playing he had removed the wig from his shaven head, and the heat and exercise of the game had partially melted the enamel of his face, causing the wax and colour to run together in patches. He was grotesquely ludicrous. }

'Lestrange, your game is up, said Rcdlands, sternly. He looked bewildered for the mouient, then he cast a keen glance at his companion, and seeing no encouragement for hope in his face, turned again to us, flung his cue upon the floor, and said bitterly—--1 Yes ; beaten !'

I saw his companion—we never learnt his name—edging towards a table near me on which glittered the rings and jewellery laid aside by Lestrange for greater ease in playing. I clapped my hand on them, and wagged my thick stick menacingly. I was not going to be done oufcVf the spoils of our victory.

' Well, what are you going to do now V asked Lestrange, coolly foldin" his arms —his voice Avaa no lon«er a squeaky treble, but a fairly manlike bass.

1 Turn you out of the house, first of all!' said Redlands. 'And run you into prison afterwards if you are to be caught,' I added.

Taking no notice of me, Lestrange picked up the long cue from the ground and said — - ' On what terras are we to go V ' Terms, you rascal!' cried my lord. ' Do you think I have come

here to compound with feions !' and with that he sprang upon him, took him by the nape of the neck, and ran him out into the hall. The puny Utile man was no match for his well-knit, powerful adversary, and he cried for mercy as Redlands shook him, when he tried to use his cue as a mace and escape. But it was otherwise with me and Lestrange's accomplice, The fellow was more than my match, and when he charged I went to the ground, though I stood as firmly and made as desperate a fight of it as I could. He snatched up a handful of the jewels from the table and making a headlong rush passed Redlands, and got out of the house by the door through which Lestrange had been ejected. We were glad enough never to hear of them again.

The next morning another telegram came from Bingham. 'Mr Sylvester,' he wired, 'died six weeks since ; he is buried at Ravello. I have seen the register. His house is shut up. Lestrange gone away. What am Itodo V To this I replied at once. ' Take possession of the house on behalf of Sylvester's heir, and take measures to secure the apprehension of Lestrange for the robbery of Sylvester's rings, etc., should he return. With this last telegram Redlands flew off to Exeter.

Now he had news indeed that he could give to Marian—news that made her joyfully consent to be his wife. He took her from her fickle friends to London ; there she was introduced to his family, and there she was married. I had the honour of giving her away, and that was the pleasantest event of the day tor me—the affair being of a very stately and grand kind—much too grand for a simple old lawyer like me. I think Redlands himself was glad when the cerem'ony was over, and he whisked his dear little wife away from the artificial conditions to which she was as little accustomed as 1. They went to Italy for the rest of the winter, and while they were away the dismal old Court was pulled down, and a wooden chalet set up for their home while the new house is being built. They live in the pretty little box now ; their new house is to be called by its older name —Redlands Court. THE END.