The Storyteller.

Waikato Argus, Volume V, Issue 369, 10 December 1898, Page 1 (Supplement)

The Storyteller.

It was while John Canning was in Switzerland, in 189—, taking a wellearned rest after the tremendous labour involved by his brilliant investigations, in connection with what has come to be known as the Great Blue Pearl Robbery, that he chanced to run into the arms of the Tragedy of the Cestella Pass, and it is highly probabh that, had the chance nob befallen him, the manner in which Captain Spencer came by his death would never have been known. One of Canning's stopping-places —he was on a walking tour, alone—was beautiful Vervener. He reached there late one night with the intention of leaving next morning, and crossing the Cestella Pass to Brass. But Brass did not receive him, and for the following reason. On his way along t'io pass, where the mountain's side is cut into a series of precipitous paths, he suddenly came upon the mangled body of a man. He was well-dressed and strongly made, of about thirtylive years, and but for the horribly damaged condition of his face, would doubtless have been remarkably handsome. Canning recognised in an instant that the unfortunate gentleman was dead : his neck was broken and his right shoulder was dislocated: but rigor mortis had not yet set in. With the idea of discovering some indications of the manner in which the fall had occurred, Canning began to look about—naving drawn the body to one side—keeping his keen eyes riveted on the ground, looking for anything, looking for nothing. Presently he stopped, bent down and picked up a wax vesta, which he carefully put into an empty snuffdox which he carried. A few steps farther on he came upon another vesta, the latter having evidently been blown out immediately on being ignited. Close beside this was a third match of similar dimensions, but unignited. Both these Canning put away with the first match. Still foxthor along he came upon a few shreds of tobacco, the nicotine soaked end of a pipe-fill, and three matches. Two of the matches had been struck and immediately blown out—by the high wind, doubtlesswhile the third had been burnt .down to the end. Canning looked at the two unburnt matches, and whistled softly. « Not a common thing, from what I know, for a man to carry two makes of matches in hi? case ; and these are considerably shorter than those I picked up lower down, and lighter also. The3e matches have recently been dropped ; that's clear for it is logical to connect them with these shreds of tobacco, which are quite dry, despite the fact that rain fell less than two hours ago,' Half.way back on the way to the place where he had climbed up the steep path, he knelt down and, with the aid of a pocket-lens, carefully examined the ground. 'Hum!' he muttered. '_ What's become of the walking-stick V I have seen nothing of it. What's this 1 That certainly looks as if the owner of the stick, whoever he was, had stood here some time, and run his stick over the path in the manner of thoughtful or agitated men. Yes; and also absent-mindedly picked off the bruised bark of his stick, for these shreds of bark have been polished on the one side. I venture to surmise that if the owner of the stick is not the gentleman below, he knows more about the slip than he would care to confess, unless, which is quite possible, there has not been any foul play. But I fear there has. It" was not a likely place for an accident to occur ; the path is safer, there than in many other places, and the slip of a dozen feet would not account for the trampling that has been done where the man went over.' Musing thus, Canning retraced his steps until he reached the body, which lay as he had left it. With all possible respect he rifled the pockets of the Norfolk jacket upon the body, and produced from one pocket a silver matchbox and a crumpled letter. From another pocket he drew a tobacco-pouch, slipped in which wa3 a packet of cigarette papers. In the inside pocket of the jacket he found a pocket-book, and some letters addressed to Captain Spender, Hotel Lurice, Vervener, Switzerland. This address rather surprised Canning, vs it was the hotel at which he had'put up the night before. However, from the letters he turned his attention to the smoking mutters. He examined the tobacco. ' Stright cut, Turkish ; only fit for cigarettes,' he said ; ' as unlike the shreds and the pipe-fill end as two tobaccos could be; point, the other man smoked a pipe. Now to thcAatches!' emptied the matches into his hand, measured them against the first unburnt matches ho had picked up, and found that they were all the same make and size, very different to the matches he had subsequently picked up. 'As I suspected,'he 3lid, under his breath. ' Two makes of matches two brands of tobacco, this case at least, to two men. The question arising is how much the other man knows of the accident and how much he has confessed. Hone of this tend 3 to prove the other man's guilt, but only his presence.'

Examination of the letters and pocket-book demonstrated that Captain Spender had been some six weeks in Switzerland for the benefit of his health ; that he was not svanting for funds ; that he had left in England a lady who was a charming letter-writer and subscribed herself 'Ever your only Blanche " ; that she had given him a lock of hair, and that he wore it on a small locket on his watchchain. ' Quite correct,' said Canning grimly, as he closed the locket. °What about this letter from the side-pocket? Paris, ch 1 Three days' old postmark; no date on letter. "Dear George,' he read; 'My party will reach Brass on Tuesday. " Will walk over next day to see you. —Dick.' Canning twisted the letter in his fingers, glanced at the body at his side, then at the path before him. He gave a soft, low whistle, put tho letter, in hie pocket and rose. ' Does Dick smoke a pipe, I wonder V he said. After vainly searching high and low for the stick, of the presence of which he had seen umnistakeable signs, he gathered together the articles he "had taken from the pockets of Captain Spender, threw his coac over the dead, white face, and strode off in the direction of Vernener. During the whole five miles he was turning the question of the shocking death over in his mind, and the farther he got along the road the graver grew his expression. After a little more than an hour s stiff w'alking, Canning reached the Hotel Lurice, where he immediately demanded to see the manager. This gentleman, the usual type of Swiss hotelkeeper, came forward with the. utmost possible unction, and itt no way disconcerted by Canning's serious, almost threatening attitude. 1 Captain Spender,' began Canning. ' He slept here last night, eh ?' ' He has been staying here some weeks,' was the reply. ' But lam afraid you cannot see him, as he has gone to Brass.' ' To Brass, eh 1 For what purpose, do you know V 'lt is funny! He had gone to see his brother, who has come to see him, and is now waiting his return, fearing to again miss him if he returns to Brass.' Canning pricked up his ears. ' How was it they did not meet in the Cestella Pass V he asked. ' Sir Richard Spender, the brother you know,' said the manager, smiling and rubbing his nose, ' came, down to Cestella Pass only at far as Hamel's Peak, and then climbed up to the Bertellia and came the rest of the way on that path ; while he expects Captain Spender must have continued along the Cestella Pass. Eh—did you wish to see Captain Spender?' Canning made no reply to the question, but with his hands behind his back, his chin on his cravat, he strode up and down the room. Presently, without looking up, he said : ' Captain Spender has met with an a-jcident. Inform Sir Richard of the fact, and a3k him to come to me.' With an exclamation of horror, the manager hurried from the room, to return a moment later, followed by a tall, handsome man of between thirty-five and forty, Sir Richard Spender. ' What is this?' he asked, quickly. ' Where is my brother ? What is the nature ot the accident ?' ' I am sorry to be the bearer of such ill news,' Canning said, gently, eyeing the baronet keenly as he spoke. 'I set out along the Cestella Pas 3 this morning on my way to Brass, when I came across, some five miles, along the lower path, the body of Captain Spender. He was dead.' Sir Richard flung himself into a chair, and buried his face in his hands, in which position he remained wrapped in grief for some minutes. In the meantime Canning called together a rescuing Dirty, and in company with the bereaved brother, set out once more for the pass. Three hours later the body of Captain Spender lay on the best bed the hotel afforded, while Sir Richard, who had recovered most of his usual calmness, sat in conversation with Canning and Dr. Sherman, another visitor at the hotel, in the smoking-room. ' Can you oblige me with a match ?' Canning asked, quietly. 'Thank you.' Canning op°.ned Sir Richard's match-box clumsily, upsetting all the matches upon the table. As he gatherer them together he noticed they were all of the same length, similar to the last two unburnt matches he had picked up that morning along the pass, and as different from those in Captain Spender's packet as two vestas could well be. He struck one, and then found to his ostensible surprise that his pipe had burnt out, and that he had no pouch upon him. Seeing him fumble at his pockets, and guessing the reason, Doctor Sherman offered him a cigar. 'No, thank*; T never smoke cigars. But I'll have a fill from your pouch, if I may, Sir Richard V he said, taking up the baronet's pouch from the table. 'By all means. Have another brandy.'

The brandy Canning declined, but he filled his pipe from the baronet's pouch, and settled down _to enjoy the smoke. He watched with uncoacealed interest Sir Richard empty his pipe to refill it, when the pouch had been handed back, with thanks. With a careless movement Canning drew the ash:tray to him, and examined the still smoking pipe-fill end for some moments. Then, throwing himself back in his chair once more, he fixed his eyes sternly upon the baronet's face, and said, in a quiet, low tone : ' I pointed out to you this morning the exact spot where your brother met his death. It vras some two miles this side of Hamel's Peak, where, I understand, you left the Cestella Pass. Is that correct V 'Yes,' replied Sir Richard, his lips twitching slightly. ' Between a mile and a half and two miles.' ' That's so, but it's very strange,' said Canning. ' In what way V ' Insomuch that I could almost swear that you met your brother this morning four miles along the pass, talking with him, smoking with him, and ■' Bub he did not finish, Sir Richard sprang up from his seat, and glared down at him in a passion of anger and scorn. 1 You are probably unacquainted with the usages of polite society, and may therefore be ignorant that it is insulting to doubt a gentleman's word, especially without any excuse or reason. What object should I have had in telling a he about my route, or endeavouring to mislead you 1 I must ask you to leave the" room, or I may lose my temper and strike you.' ' Let me explain. Here is your brother's matchbox. Look at the matches,' said Canning, bub again Sir Richard interrupted him. • I decline to discuss the matter with you,' he said, sternly. ' I'm snare, 1 said Canning sweetly, ' that 1 had no intention of hurting your susceptibilities. I made no imputations. Bub I really should, believing every word you have said about your doings, like to show you how little things might mislead those who did not know, as we do.' Sir Richard sat down again with an air of intense uneasiness and annoyance, while Canning settled himself down to play the cards upon which h e relied to clear up the mystery surrounding Captain Spender's death. ' This is your brothers matchbox, Sir Richard,' he said, handing it over. ' I took it from his pocket thinking it might be stolen, and it has an important bearing upon the accident. You see the matches 1 They are quite unlike your matches, eh ? Well, this morning I picked up on the upper path, twenty yards from where your brother met his death, this match.' 'Yes, one of my brother's, evidently,' ( Certainly. And these two matches, which I found fifty yards further along—whose are these ? Are they not marvellously like those in the box you have in your pocket at this moment V Sir Richard turned pale in silent acknowledgement of the fact, and looked first at Canning and then at Dr. Sherman, as if calculating their strength and his chances of beating them. ' Another queer point,' said Canning, smiling an icy smile, ' is this end of a pipe-fill which I found where I discovered the matches so like your own. Note, your brother had only straight cut Turkish tobacco for cigarettes in his pouch, and carried no pipe, while this is coarse-cut Cavendish, exactly similar to that which is in your pouch, and to that which you turned out into this ash-tray a few moments since. Moreover, this plug of tobacco I found would exactly fit the very pipe you are now smoking. But still more strange ! This bark I found near the scene of the tragedy. You see it appears to have been picked off a walkingstick 1 See the varnished or polished side 1 And isn't it queer thatyourstick, which you carried this morning, and which is now under careful eyes in the cloak-room, has just such bark missing, and bhat were these shreds carefully glued upon your ttick they would patch the damage perfectly 1 1 Don't you think,' he continued, more sternly, ' looking at all this, and considering all the facts as they tend to prove your knowledge of a tragedy of which you professed to be entirely ignorant —that I should be justified in having you arrested for the murder of your brother V Sir Richard staggered to his feet, then sank into his chair again, and answered nothing. But Canning could hear him mutter below his breath : ' You are irrevocably lost to ate now, Blanche. For some moments the three men sab in silence. Then tlte docber rose and drew Canning on one side. As the latter turned he fancied he heard a sharp click, and instantly threw a quick, searching glance at Sir Richard, who however, did not appear to have moved, but sat with his face in his hands. The doctor had been entirely convinced by the strange evidence of Sir Richard's guilt, and suggested that an arrest should be made without delay. But Canning,

who had thrown frequent glances at the baronet while conversing with the doctor, was against it, and spent some time in explaining his reasons. ' Besides,' he concluded, ' if I am not mistaken, the man has sought a Higher Judge than the world can afford.' The doctor ran to the baronet's side, and started. ' You knew this !' he cried to Canning, angrily. ' How would I V replied Canning. ' I might have suspected, but then all the cause for suspicion I had was hearing the click of tho ring in which he kept the poison. Besides, who will deny that it is better thus V And he turned on his heel and left the room.—Tit-Bits.

A MOUNTAIN TRAGEDY. --