CHAPTER XX. KISSES AND CONSOLATION.
Herbert Morant snatched something to oat after the iuquest was concluded, and made his way to London by the isame train as Sergeant U-<her. He had noticed him at the Hopbinn, and again on tho platform, but had uo idea of who he was. Phil Soames didn't know the detective by sight, neither did Ellen Maitland, and w?th the exception of Dr. Ingleby, to whQm Phil had iptroduoed. him, those
wore the sole acquaintances that Herbert had in Baumborough ; the Doctor in his worldly wisdom thought ifc best to make no parade of his acquaintance with Mr Usher, and raised himself considerably in the Sergeant's estimation by such laudable reticence. Arrived in town Morant took Ellen under his charge, put her into a cab, and, jumping in beside her, drove out to Tapton Cottage. Mrs Foxborough herself opened the door to them, and though she carried herself bravely, there was a slight quiver about the mouth and fidgety nervousness in her manner that betrayed her extreme anxiety. She was a proud, passionate woman, with all the immense self-controlled power that such women invariably possess up to a certain point, but who, when the barrier of their prido onco breaks down, aro reckless of all considerations but their own wild impulse?. 'Go down, Ellen, at onco, and get something te eat. I'm sure, poor girl, it's been a hard day for you as for us. No, don't protest, and don't ory. I know very well you wouldn't say one syllable against me or mine if you could help it. Go now.' 1 But Missus,' said the girl, half sobbing, • they made me say I'd seen the dagger before. I was obliged to do it ; indeed I wa*. J Mrs Foxborough gave a slight start, but rnastei ing herself by a strong effort, said, quietly. ' You were obliged to tell the truth, Ellen, of course. I'll hear your story to-morrow. Go now, get your supper, and then be off to bed as soon as they will let you.' ?.'rs Foxborough knew too well that the cook and hor own maid had to have their curiosity satisfied before Ellen would be permitted to seek her chamber. ' Now, Mr Morant,' she continued, " come into the drawing-room and tell us all. I say us, for Nid insists upon knowing 1 everything. She says suspense is the least ondurabfo form of agony, and I think she is perhaps right ; at all events it is useless to keep her in ignorance, poor child, any longer. She claims her right to bhare our great sorrow, and as I cannot spare it her, I feel I have no longer the right to refuse. I tell you that, Mr Morant, in r t d°r that you may have no reticence iv fcpeaking before her.' As she finished they entered the draw-ing-room, and springing from a low chair by the table, exclaimed eagerly, • Oh ! Herbert, what have you to tell us. Mamma wouldn't let me come to the door with her, but I am to hear everything, everything.' ' Mr Morant has been told that, darling. Sit down and try to bear his tidings as bravely as you can,' replied Mrs Foxborough. ' I bring no good news for you, I am sorry to say, but rest satisfied I am going to tell you the whole truth —it would bo useless to do otherwise, for every paper will contain the whole story to-morrow morning and the later evening ones have most of it to-night. Tis a verdict against your husband to its fullest extent, but mind, though the evidence was perhaps eoough to warrant that a coroner's jury, the facts against him are curiously slight.' Mis Foxborough leaned against the mantlepiece as a slight shiver ran through her frame, but her head kept her habitual pose, and she looked Morant steadily in the face. As for Nid, she cowered in her chair, listening to the narrative with flushed cheeks and tearful lashes, looking like a crushed flower in her abandon. ' Your husband's extraordinary absence ! The fact that he asked Mr Fosdyke to dinner, and was recognised by him under the name of Foxborough, and — and ' Here for tho life of him Herbert could not master a choking sensation in his throat, as he looked upon the two sorelytried women before him. 'Go on quick,' exclaimed Mrs Foxborough, in a low tone.' ' And,' continued Herbert, ' the singular coincidence that the weapon with which Fobsdyke was slain was oither that dagger which I'vo played with in this very room, or the exact counterpart, constitutes the whole evidence against him.' ' That Eastern poignard, tho one he used as a paperknife, why if it isn't here it must bo in .James's own room,' cried Mrs Fossdyko, as she glanced nervously round the tables. ' Quick, Nid, get a light, child, and let's find it." 'Stop, please for a moment, cried Morant. ' Ellen was obliged to confess that she did not remember seeing it the la&t week or two, though she could not say that she had missed it ; but she, like me, recognised the daggar produced. Dear Mrs Foxborough, this has been a pruel trying day to you. Take my advice, and endeavour to get a good night's re^t, and search for that dagger to-mor-row.' ' A good night's rest,' she rejoined, almost contemptuously, 'do you Mipposo I have known that since this horrible charge against my husband was first bruited abroad.' ' I fear not,' ho murmured, struck, even as she spoke, with the ravages the lastfew days had worked in her handsome face. ' No, nor do you suppose I can sleep tonight till I have sought the house through for the miserable toy. I should be false to my husband if I failed in anything that might aid him iv his need. Good night, Mr Morant, you have been a loyal friend to us this day ; ' and Mrs Foxborough extended her haud. ' Come and see us agaui soun.' 'Good night,' replied Herbert, clasping it warmly ; and then turning to Nid, who had risen to bid him farewell, he folded her suddenly in his arms and imprinted a warm kiss upon her lips. ' I claim her for weal or woe, Mrs Foxborough,' he said apologetically, ' and shall never believe, let them prove what they will, and if Fossdyke did met his fate at your husband's hands, it was anything other than the result of a sudden and quite unpremeditated quarrel.' ' Bless you for that, Mr Morant,' exclaimed Mrs Foxborough, as her face flushed with pleasure at the young man's loyal suggestion. * Nid is not likely to think worse of you for the way you stand by us in our trouble?. Once more good nierht,' and with another*pressure of the hand from tho hostess, and a kiss blown U him by Nid, Herbert Morant was dismissed. He mused a good deal as he made his way home over this incomprehensible murder. There was plenty of others fascinated by the attractions of a great crime, who, though having nothing but an abstract interest in it, were quite as much absorbed in speculation concerning it as Morant could be. His remark to Mrs Foxborough was significant that his faith was in some measure shaken in Foxborough's innocence. It would have bocn noted by a close observer that though Moiant still staunchly refused to admit that the luckless lessee of the Syringa was a murderer, he concealed tho fact that he might have been guilty of manslaughter. To his mind that dagger was conclusive evidence ; lie know the toy so well, he had fiddled with it too often in the drawing-room at Tapton Cottage to frel tiny doubt about any doubt about its identity, and how could it be in the hands, of anyone else but Foxborough, and was it not conclusively bhown that Foxborough was the man who had asked John Fosdyke to dinner and with whom he had dined ? Morant, though he had been called to the Bar, had never studied law, nor that preliminary the law oi evidence. Hia
conclusions were precisely thoso to which a considerable portion of the public had equally arrived, although a numerous section held to the theory of truculent, deliberate, cold-blooded as9asination. In cases of this kind the culprit is tried nightly at the clubs according to the evidence in the evening papers, and though " the sports of the Coliseum" would bo deemed accursed ot modern society, yet gambling 1 on a nnan's life has always its votaries, and there is usually some wagering on the verdict when a great criminal is on his trial. Then Morant's thoughts took another turn, and he thought how pretty Nid had looked in her blushes and confusion at his suddem embrace, and he vowed, happen what might, he'd be staunch to the girl let what may be her father's fate ; even if he had the misfortune to be shriven at the foot of the lcifless tree. What a terrible business this murder was. Here was poor old Phil Soames all upset ; not only were Herbert's fiancee and her mother suffering agonies reflecting to some extent upon him, but all his schemes for- a start iv the world wore 1-ef t in abeyance, and yet Herbert knew that starting late in life, as he was, theie was no time to be lo3t in beginning. His love for Nid had transformed this man. For the first time in his life he was anxious to be up and doing ; he who had always pitied the getting up, and derided tlje doing of most people — and undoubtedly it was the lot of many of his associates who rose early to do so of compulsion and to very little purpose — was most anxious ! to buckle to hard work on his own account. But ho was bound to wait ; without Phil Soamc's advice he could not see in what direction to make a start, aud there was one consolation in the meantime that Mis Foxborough and Nid really did at present require his advice and assistance in so-ne measure. They had told him they should be always glad to see him in their troubles, and there was no doubt he could bring them intelligence it would be difficult for them in their retirement to come by. That a man desperately in love, and also moved to the sincerest pity for the family of the lady of his adoration in their sorrow, should feel it his duty to console and comfort may be easily understood, aud so, despite that inward prompting that it behoved him to bend his neck to the yoke without more delay, Herbert Morant reconciled himself to the decrees of fate, and resolved to take care as far as ho could ot Nid and her mother for the present. During the next week the papers were rife with reports of the usual imbecilities that invariably follow upon the commission of a great crime. Provincial constables arrest harmless individuals moving about in the pursuance of their usual avocations upon no grounds whatever but that they are strangers, and that in the eyes of the rural police their ways, like those of the heathen Chinee, are peculiar. The average number of good-for-nothing; inebriates becoming dimly conscious that they have forfeited all right of existence, iv moments of deep despondency had given themselves up as the murderer of John Fossdyke, and having had sobriety shaken into them by enforced abstinence and ammonia, whiningly plead drunken ignorance of what they have been talking about. Scotlandyard was'inundited with senseless letters, and newcomct'3 iv suburban neighbourhoods find the neighbour's eye emphatically upon them. Scotland-yard, as personified by Sergeant Usher, keeps its own counsel, and that illustrious individual in bursts of unwonted candour confides to himself that "it's a rum un." Every day does Herbert make his way out to Tapton Cottage, and that there he is warmly welcomed by Mrs Foxborough and Nid may be easily imagined. That he is looked upon as engaged to the latter now is a matter of course, even Mrs Foxborouqh no longer affects to treat it is au arrangement of the future, whatever tho marriage may be ; but Herbert cannot help noticing how this terrible suspeuse is telling on Mrs Foxborough. The defiant handsome face begins to look sadly worn, and even a silver thread or two is visible in the l'ich chestnut-tresses. Not much to be wondered at when one remembers this woman loves her husband very dearly, and sees no way of rebutting the terrible crime laid to his charge She has had no word of him for weeks ; that is nothing, she is used to that. She has often before been as long without hearing from him, but then this is different. If alive and in England it is impossible he can be ignorant of the terrible accusation against him, of that dreadful verdict— Wilful murder. Absurd in these days of papers perpetual, of telegrams, and of instantaneous diffusion of news, real, false, or mixed, what might be termed half-and-half or embellished facts ; absurd to suppose a man could possibly be lVnoraut of such a charge hanging over him, and gradually Mrs Foxborough, who scoffed at any idea of her husband's guilt, had arrived at the conclusion that he also had come to an uutimely end. She pretended to give no explanation of the Bunbury trageJy, but she remarked sadly to Herbert, "if my husband were alive he would come forward at once to confute this miserable accusation, I tell you. Well if that is not so, how is it the police cannot find him ? I feel certain that he is dead? I cannot tell you why— one can never account for a presentiment, but I feel that he is dead. How ? where ? why ? I can no more attempt to explain than who it was that killed poor Mr Fossdyke, but that all this will be unfolded in due course I entertain no doubt." 'I am getting dreadfully unhappy about mamma," said Nid, oue afternoon, when Mrs Foxborou«h had retired to her own room, and left the young people in undisputed possession of the drawingroom. "Sne suffers terribly. She keep 3 up and wears a plucky face and undaunted front of the world generally, but oh! Herbert, she breaks down terribly at night ! I hear her pacing up and down her room like a wild thing, and the other night I stole down upon her. She turned upon me quite fierce, asked what I was doing up at that hour, and ordered me peremptorily to bed. But I wasn't going to have that, you know ; and so I just dashed at her, got my arms round her neck, and in two minutes we were both crying our eyes ovit. Of course, Herbert, as a mere man, you can't understand what this is, to us women. The relief, the luxury it is ! Bad for both of us it is, of course- I love my poor father very dearly, but Herbert, you have taught me to understand how a wile loves her husband, and I know now what my love for my father is as compared with mother's. I feel ashamed of it. Yes, sir, literally ashamed at this minute to think what you are to me when my father, whom I dearly love, is under such a terrible accusation. _ I never saw much of him, no doubt. I've been at school a good deal, you see ; and then since my emancipation, father has been a good bit away ; but, whenever he was here, no father could have been kinder. Nothing was ever too good for mother and me. If 1 hadn't a chariot and four and ro^cs of gold brocade^ it was because mother curbed his too la\ish hand. I can never believe him guilty of what they allege, Herbert ; but, as I said before, the whole thing is killing mother. Can't you see it in her face ?' ' Only too well, Nid dearest ; it's sad to see the work the last two or three | wcgka have wrought in your mother's
handsome face, but what are we to do. You know well, and I think Mrs Foxborough does also, there ia nothing within my power that";l would not do to aid her in her hour of' trial, but Nid we are helpless, we can at present but wait the course of events.' ' No, I suppose we can do no more, but I am sure Herbert that"anything that can be done you will do," whispered Nid, with all that grand belief in her lover incidental to girls at that stage of love's young dream. As married women, sad to say, they have not that magnificent belief in our omniscience and capabilities; they have discovered we are pretty much as foolish as our neighbours, get into quite our average of scrapes, and show no peculiar aptitude for getting out of them ; extricating ourselves for the most part in most prosaic and commonplace fashion. 1 'Good-bye, Nid, dearest," said Morant, as he once more clasped his betrothed to his breast. "I shall, of course, come out every day if it is only to tell you that there is no news, and that as far as the public are concerned is just what is the state of the case at preseut. Whether the police know more I can't say, but your mother's theory that her husband, like John [Fossdyke, has been foully dealt with, would 1 faucy rather startle them, and yet if . your father is alive it seems unaccountable they cannot hear of him." Nid's reply was brief, and of the kind interesting only to the recipient. (To be continued.)
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Waikato Times, Volume XXVII, Issue 2230, 23 October 1886, Page 1 (Supplement)
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2,951CHAPTER XX. KISSES AND CONSOLATION. Waikato Times, Volume XXVII, Issue 2230, 23 October 1886, Page 1 (Supplement)
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