A HANSOM AND TWO FARES.

Waimate Daily Advertiser, Volume VI, Issue 8, 21 January 1905, Page 7 (Supplement)

A HANSOM AND TWO FARES.

Phil Manson had dined, and perhaps he had taken a little more wine than usual. Indeed, he admits as much;but he was very far from being intoxicated —on that point he is emphatic—when one warm evening last summer he left the Hotel Cecil and walked out into the strand. After a moment’s hesitation ho decided t} go to the Pavilion for an hour. A cab was drawn up at the kerb outside a wellknown gunsmith’s, and without asking whether it was engaged, Phil stepped into it. Somewhat sleepily he looked up to the roof of the cab in order to give his Instructions to the driver; but the latter, apparently under the impression that his own fare, whom he had set down at the gunsmith’s shop a few minutes earlier, had now returned, whipped up his horse and drove rapidly westward.

Phil chuckled, and then, leaning back in the cab, went peacefully to sleep. He was awakened with a start as the vehicle drew up sharply before a large house in a great deserted square. He hesitated for a moment, somewhat confused, and then slowly alighted from the cab. "Where are we, cabby? Didn't I tell you But before he could say any more a fcotman, who apparently had been watching for his arrival, ran down the steps of the house and touched him on the arm. "Go straight in, please, sir,” he said, in a tone of suppressed excitement. "I will pay the cabman.” “Is this the Pavilion ? That’s • what I want to know,” began Phil; but already ths servant had dismissed the' cab, and wa> almost hustling the bewildered young man into the house. Not until Phil found himself in the dim-ly-lighted hall, and heard the door shut behind him, did he properly awake from h’i drowsiness and realise that he was infl a rather ridiculous situation. \ 1 "My good man,” he said, mildly, "therß has been a mistake. I am not the person j you take me for. I have no business whatever in this house. The cabman mistake. Kindly open the door, a,nd B He paused, for two other servants haß made their appearance, and tlfe meß surrounded him. Their attitude was very deferential, and! yet it seemed to contain in it something of 1 menace. "Excuse me, sir,” said the oldest ot*thel men, apparently the butler, a •sturdilybuilt fellow of about 45. “but fny Jady is waiting for you in the morning-room. I I beg you will not delay, and that whatever explanations you desire to make .yoji -will make to her alone.” As he spoke he glanced significantly at the other servants. “Oh, very well,” said Phil impatiWltly; "it is all very ridiculous, but takd me to the lady. I will soon explain.” x . One of the footman stepped forward am. flung open a door. Phil passed through into a large, gloomy apartment. As he did so the servant announced him : "Mr Hector Cameron.” "How absurd!” muttered Phil, and at once strode boldly into the room. He pulled himself up with a start of surprise. In the centre of the room was a table, on which stood a shaded lamp, which gave the only light in the apartment. At the table sat, not a woman, but three men—three men, all of middle age, who turned towards him grave, stern faces. “Come forward, Hector Cameron,” said on> of the men, in low, authoritative tones. "There has been a rather foolish mistake, for which I am in part .responsible,” began Phil, advancing to the tabic.” "Be silent !” interrupted the other, ab-| ruptly. "This matter .is urgent, and we cannot waste time in foolish talk. If you have any weapon about you, place it on the table.” Phil then noticed that the two’men who .had not yet spoken each held a revolver levelled directly at him. He cleared his throat, made a vain effort to collect his thoughts, and then blurted out: “Don’t be ridiculous. I never carried anything more dangerous than a penknife in my life.” "Search him !” came the curt command, and one of the men immediately rose, and without relinquishing his revolver, made a rapid but thorough search of our bewildered hero. "He has no weapon,” announced the man, returning to his seat. The leader of the group looked at Phil thoughtfully for a moment in silence. "You are not without courage,” he said, at length. “To come here at all to-night proved that; but to come unarmed was almost foolhardiness, was it not?” "I really must ask you to let me know what you are driving at? I do not know Who you are. I have entered this house by mistake. My name is not Hector Cameron.” “That will do,” said the other, sternly, an angry flush spreading over his face. “You are a traitor, and you are trapped, and the sooner you admit the first and realisd the second the better. For two

ti t. u 11 on ? v ent b-u i n t had pt in w .i- k ity - s. •! VI a i e. i k • h 1 i V i'i.il, <>i u' e “You and sho stand-" Phil that t > be < All : xp<-< mi tn t wi-n t y - Her her. “Hero quieMy ing ner t She h "t pel t * ) v 111 g brayed, “ coldly. with led hii • > ull < Phil's 1 1 ’.< bre:i <■< she W “Well, have Pfeil laughed.® “I think not/M know so better.” "Xow«we may as well flint write “ludeod you r of course, which in 'system. J b ‘ kept under apy tricks—accident. Do "Yes, I think s laugh. "I am not •“I wouldn't, if remind you— Atthat momej the ia the roonk/ B "What’s thaj rather "It is all have given one N evert h entered. “Well, “A Hector "What The man "Where is hB Tn the haßl r * ce ” The words wefl mouth when hfl and rushed ouß he did so the flB mediately

only born to die. In a word, for the first 21 hours I was crazed. The second day found me cool and helpless. I made my plans. Obey I must, for my wife’s sake and my own. Jelikoff must die that we might live. For/nve hours I debated where to do the /leed ; then, still uncertain, walked on the verge of the town, and as I walked Lodiski joined me. “To-morrow?” said he, inquiringly. “To-morrow I” I returned. “It must be to-morrow for one of us,” and I shuddered. We stood a while in hilence; then he came closer, and placed his hand upon my shoulder. “Listen!” he said. “It is hard, it is dangerous. Capture means death. Here is money. You must flee instantly the work is done.” Unwittingly I thrust the gold into my bosom, and repeated after him: “I must flee instantly. And my wife?” “I will care for her until you return.” In a single breath my brain cleared, the dread cloud that for two days had shadJ k owed it passed, and I knew the hand that had worked my ruin. I was to become an outlaw in order that my wife might be the spoil of thfe monster. What power it was that held my hands I know not. The rage in my heart, the ■ -frenzy to seize the accursed one at my side, all but overpowered me, and it was only by a strong effort of will that I remained silent. “The deed must be to-morrow,” continued Lodiski, “and the only place where you can find Jelikoff alone is in the belltower. Thither he goes each evening before the curfew rings, to watch the change of guard upon the opposite river bank. \ ou can conceal yourself there, and strike him down. It will be hours before he is missed, and you will Have time for flight.” I bowed my head. I dared not trust my tongue. It might be that I should strike too soon. Deep within my heart the determination to kill was well fixed, but, unknown to my chief, the victim had been changed. “I wiil soon join you at the foot of the fewer after curfew. See to it that it is after—the end !” Lodiski concluded. My blood leaped. “It is well,” I replied. And he left me. That niglft I told my wife all, and her love stood the test. Ere morning dawned, under the escort of a faithful servant, she was at the Volga Dernstam—a landing ten miles away; and when the early sun -kissed the reaches of level land about our town, it found her upon the deck of a river steamer, bound for Astrachan. All day long I gathered my little store of goods, and late in the afternoon sold them for gold'to a friend—a Nihilist like —who secretly conveyed them to his heme. / Then, as the light waned, and it drew • towards night, thoroughly disguised, and urmed with a pair of pistols and my dagir, I skirted the town, and came at last the lonely wafch-tower, where hung the at bell that rang the etirfew. Ere the ger had entered the tower from his *pper, I was secreted in the loft near the A'indow. T "was not my intent to kill Jelikoff. If ame, I could confess all, then descend, wreak my yengeance upon Lodiski be- . and flee the country; or if he came , the end would be the same. Still bound by my oath, and environed a thousand spies, I dared not flee until jht..£nd Lodiski must die! Alone in the grim tower I waited, and e bats about me squeaked, and the damp nd of the steppes swept mournfully in id kissed my hot cheek. The moments assed! Suddenly a dread fell upon me. Instinctively I felt the presence of some new and near dan'g^ r> and a sense of doom overcame me, ae if I listened to the words of the judge who recited the condemning proofs; of my falseness to our order. If _I did kill Jelikoff, and failed to find Lodiski, I must die! Quivering with this new terror, I glanced suspiciously about me—into the deep shadow of the corners, behind the great beams, aloft among the bats’ nests, and at last beneath the mighty bell. And there, lying prone upon a crossbeam directly under the great iron dome, so close that the first swing of the ponderous metal would crush him, lay Lodiski, lu’s evil eyes fastened upon me! v. He had come as a spy, to know if I did veil my duty—that he might denounce me jublicly as a murderer if I did it, or condemn me privately to death if I did it not. Even as I saw Lodiski, I heard the step of the colonel on the stairs and his word 3 the waiting bellman below. “Carl, I will detain you but a moment, lien I descend you may ring.” 4y heart ceased to beat. Jelikoff ascen1. I stood at his back. “One! two! three! four! five! six! seven!” It was the village clock. Jelikoff turned to descend. I shrank into the shadow be’hhid him. * Lodiski’s eyes blazed with a baleful fire. . Jelikoff went down the stains. “Fool! slave! coward !” hissed my chief, half rising upon his hands and knees. “You die!” There came a creaking sound, the great wooden wheel above turned upon its axis, bats flew snarling about, and then the mighty bell, swinging slowly, gained in momentum, and swept in a long arc upward. Lodiski uttered a single cry as the tremendous mase poised above him, and would have dragged himself out of its reach; but, with sudden fury, I stretched my arm like a bar of steel, caught his ' hair, and forced him back upon the beam —and then the great bell fell as falls the knife of the guillotine, crushing into a hideous mass the body of the spy, while its heavy knell rang with a gurgling shiver far out across the barren land, and a little stream of blood, warm and red, ran slowly down the beam and dyed the lips and tongue of the iron monster as he swung. Tlie curfew was sounding, and I was saved !

hours later, in the silence of the night, I escaped from the tower and fled, for 24 hours Lodiski’s death was undiscovered, and before the truth was known I wa:* with my wife upon the Caspian Sea, far out of the reach of the Nihilists.