A MYSTERIOUS MURDER.

Waikato Times, Volume XXIX, Issue 2361, 27 August 1887, Page 1 (Supplement)

A MYSTERIOUS MURDER.

PART I.

Somewhere in the North Riding of Yorkshire is Darkhurst Manor, an ancient residence of the Catholic family of Vaustone. Darkhurst has belonged to the Vanstones from time immemorial ; parts of the old house are supposed to date from the early Norman period,; there is a chapel on the premises wherein are laid the bones of generations of Vast on a, and for miles round the head of the house is looked upon as a sort of petty king. The family has never enjoyed a good reputation for the humbler virtues. The Vanstones, as a rule, did not care much about respectability. The men were generally soldiers, sailors, or aimless wanderers on the face of the earth, and the women were frequently the heroines of scandals in high life and causes eelebres. No Vanstone ever turned priest or lawyer. The old house itself seemed to suit the tone of its proprietors. It was a grim forbidding looking pile of irregular buildings, with a gloomy lake in front, and a mass of thick trees on either side. In the stiff, formal garden there was a mausoleum. and one or two railed off plots, supposed to he the tombs of long forgotten ancestors. There was not another house of any description within more than a mile of Darkhurst, and on one side a wild stretch of moorland came up within a couple of hundred yards of the grounds. Needless tosay, Darkhurst was haunted by a more than the ordinary allowance of family ghosts. There was a white lady, and a gentleman who habitually carried his head in his hands ; there was a blood stain on the floor of a musty attic and asort of banshee iu the kitchen garden. The Yanstone’s themselves had long since become inured to ghostly visitants and supernatural manifestations, and nervous servants were promptly discharged with a month’s wages and scant sympathy. When Owen Yastone succeeded to tho family property by the unexpected death of au elder brother no oue had the faintest idea in what part of the globe he was to be found. After a few months, however, spent in diligent search by private detectives, the new squire was discovered in a quiet and oat of the way corner of Italy. He was a roving, good for nothing vagabond, this Owen, and nobody was much surprised to hear that, while in Italy, he had contracted a somewhat undesirable marriage with a daughter of the country. Some people said that she was the discarded wife of a roue nobleman, some alleged she was the daughter of a Calabrian innkeeper, while others went so far as to assert, that she was the actual head of a flourishing hand of brigands. Owen Vanstone had only two relations who could be expected to have any trustworthy information on the subject—bis mother and a married sister. But old Mrs Vanstone lived by herself in a lonely dower house, and was a -stern, uncommunicative woman ; while Lady Dolby was yachting with her husband iu foreign seas. So the local gossips were fain to be content to await the c.ruin ; of the new heir and bis mysterious bride. I" due time they arrived, hut without tho customary rejoicings. triumphal arches and ringing of bells. A telegram preceded them only by a few hours, and the housekeeper at Darkhurst Manor was terribly fluttered at the shortness of the time left her for preparation. However, she managed to get things straight after a fashion, and, knowing her master's exceedingly awkward tamper, she took good care not to make any complaint when he appeared.

Vanstonc had not improved by foreign travel. He looked a good ten years older titan his age, which -Mr. Bell, knew to be thirty-three. His face, too, seemed worn, and there was a curious expression in his eyes, a watchful, suspicious, expression, which was somewhat unpleasant to meet. His wife of course accompanied him. anil there was an Italian maid and a cosmopo litan valet. The lady looked tired and cross, but she was certainly very’ handsome, and by no means impressed the Darkhurst household with the idea that iter birth was either lowly or obscure. But site was a foreigner, and spoke little or no English, and the servants did not take to her kindly. Why, they' asked, did .Mr. Owen bring his wife home in this hole-and-corner fashion unless he was ashamed of her?

The few' comity families in the neighborhood of Darkhurst called upon the Vanstones, as in duty bound, but their civilities met with very little response. The new' squire seemed to be a gloomy, morose man. and his wife scarcely ever appeared in public. Stories of the most extraordinary description circulated about this curious couple, but Vanstonc was evidently indifferent to public opinion and determined to go his own way. So far as the servants could judge he and his wife were affectionate enough after their own fashion. She was marvellously beautiful, and he was sometimes almost extravagant in his devotion. Occasionally, however, there was a violent quarrel, passionate reproaches on his side being followed by outbursts of hysterical weeping on hers, and then for weeks together the two lived almost apart, speaking but rarely, and meeting only at meal-times. As time went on things grew' a little more peaceful at Darkhurst. The quarrels were rarer, and Mrs. Vanstoiie was seen more frequently out of he.- own house. People began to think that, after all, the Vanstones would reform, and become decent and useful members of the comity society. The more charitably disposed said that it was natural enough for Vanstone to keep his wife in seclusion until she knew the English language, and had some opportunity of learning British manners and customs.

It was about six months after Owen Vanstone had come to Darklmrst. Coverwas on, and he had gone so far-is to ask two or three friends to help him to slay the pheasants. Cords, the head-keeper, and his assistants had been anxiously watching the well stocked preserves for weeks, determined that their master’s lir-t impressionof thesportat Darkhurst should be a good one. One evening in October, Cords was strolling through the home covers, a quarter of a mile or so from the manor, where he caught sight of a dark form among the trees. The sturdy Vorkshireman at once thought of poachers, aud crouched down in tiie underwood to get a better look at the stranger. He wore a slouched hat of a kind Cords had never seen, and was wrapped up in a long dark cloak, which left nothing of him visible except a pair of high hoots. Cords did not like the look of him at all, and at once concluded that he must have felonious intentions upon either the pheasants or the plate. So lie crept a few paces nearer and waited. The stranger appeared to have missed his way, he glanced about in a perplexed fashion, ami peered amongst the trees as if in search of a path. Presently he seemed to have made up his mind, and started on towards the house. But it happened that he took the direction of Cords hiding-place, anil half-a-dozen paces brought him fairly np against that worthy, as he rose from the ground. “ What art doin’ y -re," growled Cords, making a grab at the other s collar. . The stranger drew hack with considerable agility and a muttered oath. The keeper, nothing daunted, advanced

effect a capture, but the other sudde dy produced a long and very unpleas nn looking knife, Ir.miished it in the keeper’s ey> a, an ! , as he hes tated an instant. dived into the underwood and disappeared.

; “if ar'd uu'y i.a i on goou, my fine j gentl-man !" cried Cords, as he plunged ; after the retreating figure. Bat p ir.-mt in the gathering darkness was hopeless, ; aii'l the keeper went on Jus way, f--!ing exceedingly savage and somewhat small. Another‘.WO yards, and the g on-Wptr : emerged on a long, straight drive lea ling to the manor. As lie did so he started ; again, and instinctively clutched his 1 -tick, for straight in front of him was | another figure. Bit a glance satisfied • him that this time it was Mr Vanstonc, and not the black cloaked stranger. “Good evenin’, sir,’ said Cords, “have you seen anybody about r” “ No.” “ I met a queer lookin' chap in there; mebbe a poacher.” “ Why queer-looking ?” asked Vanstone. “Well, he had a black cloak on, a soft hat, and tall boots. Carried a knife, too.” “ Vou met a man just now like that f” asked Vanstone, speaking very slowlr ; “ did you notice anything else about him ?’’ Cords thought his muster's voice sounded hollow and strange. He could not see his face, but he heard his breath come quick and short. “ He had black eyes and curly hair, like a organ grinder. ” A passionate oath broke from Vanstone; he said no more, hut strode rapidly towards the house, muttering to hl-a—'f, while the keeper followed at a respectable distance, greatly wondering at his master's singular emotion. Mr Vanstone entered the fruit doer, while Cords L clock himself tu the servant s’ hall, where he greatly interested and alarmed a group of admiring servant girls with a graphic description of tho mysterious trespasser. He did not, however, say anything about the effect which the apparition had produced upon bn master. That evening Mr Vanstone ordered his clothos to be packed, and announced bis intention of going for a couple of days to London. He seemed to be oa particularly affectionate terms with hi« wife, and spent the evening inh<-r boudoir The next morning he drove off earlv in his dogcart and caught the first express south. The night after Vanstone's departure was wild and stormy. The wind swept across the desolate moor and whistled dismally among the long dark avenues. The servant s sat up later than u-ai il, the m .re weakminded ones b-ing afraid to Ito b-.-d, while-the <ms- hirh-m 1 oil batl-r told grim .slori-s of th- I) irkhur-e gh .-is, and mightily enjoy-1 the elf--t his n ::rativ-s produced upon fh- -ho Id-ring circle. One of the younger foitinvi. -. ha hid but. recently arrived from London, was particularly aw-—'ri<-ken. He sit in open mouth-d horror whii-lh- -tori— of the white lady and of the benil—s g-i.t man were unfolded In him. “ Is’r, Mr Booties,” he at 1-ngth ventured to u--raark, “ ’nr ever dare vou star- in -ch a ’-is-:’ “ B-eaii-e I knows wlon I've got a good berth, vouvoing ’ I s ' gr-wi-d the butler, in 1 .1 i-n u Klin* saosj h-1 in’o silence aini l-t the giggling of th- -• -r- ---, v isit girls. Hi" when -1 m s retir ’. t > his s.iiuevlnt narrow bed h- f.ma i it . utterly hop-iess to att-mpt to sleep. H ■: - aivike for hj eirs, qu iking with flight it, I -very sueeessiv- mom of the wind, and ; wairiugiu agony for the app-trine- of ; the white lady through the rattling win- ! d .tv or the er-,ikiug d-<or. To - nigh*. I was inte-iuiji the , and the f rotta tu v - ,v ■ 1 | tint nothing would indue - him to iv in such a terrible hj ease. At length, iu -' ; , hj? was on the point of filling -.i'h*-p from sheer evil iti-li ui, a sound broke noon his ears which seemed to fr.-eze his very Wool. I* wn a worn in’s shri-k, a despairing miilH-d cry wh:-h n > win! could ever pro-luce, ft sounds*] a long way off. but .f i:n -s Flint thought it niu-t be close upon bin, and with a yell of abject terror h- spring suit of bed an! rush-ii towards the butler’s room. II; could hear Booties -noting, aad he bi r s* iu without further ceremony. “Oh, Mr Biotles!” he s-reamed. ‘Murder, murd-r; somebody !m been, killed !” The hnfler .awoke deliberate!) - , and struck a match. “Oh, it's you is it? You infernal young idiot 1” “ For Haven's sake come and see what's the matter,” whispered the hoy. “Go to the devil.” rejoined the butler, blowing out the light. “ Have you never heard the banshee? Go back to :>ed, aud if you wake me again 111 skin you alive I”

•So James crept back to his bed and lay skudd ring with fright until daylight. But when TVresina, the lady's maid, went to call her mistress ia the morning, she rushed out of the room wTli a terrible scream, aa<l fainted dead away in the passage. The oilier servants gathered round her awe-stricken, and, for some time no one dared to re-enter the chamlier. At h-ngth came the housekeeper, win, feeling the necessity of showing a brave front, hardened her heart, ari l headed a small expedition of discovery’. And this is what she saw : —The room was in co nplete disorder. Drawers had been smashed open, jewel cases shattered, -an 1 wardrolies {'•reed. There had evidently been a terrible struggle, for one chair was broken to pieces, and the carpet ha 1 been torn up in places. The window was w ide open, and the sash was marked by muddy boots. Lying half dressed across the lied was Stepliania Vanstone, dead aud cold, her splendid eyes almost forced from their sockets and staring upwards in glassy horror ; her face bine and swollen, and her snow white neck blackened by murderous fingers. The terrified woiren could see that she had li.-m strangled, for the marks of the villain's hands Were plainly visible. There was blood upon the carpet, and, on looking more closely, they siw that the unfortunate lady’s jaw had been broken, and three or four of her teeth knocked out by a tremendous blow in the mouth. Mrs Bell sternly silenced the chattering of the yonnger servants, and. sent a groom for a doctor aud the police, while siie arranged the roam .and decently covered the body of her luckless mistress. Presently the doctor ami the local constable arrived. Mrs Vanstone was past human aid: she had been violently strangled most probably by a robber whom she bad disturbed in the act of stealing her jewels. The policeman agreed with this theory. It was perfectly evident. The man had scaled the ivy covered wall and opened the window. Mrs Vanstone had surprised him, aud iie had murdered her. Moreover, he had g'.t clean away with his booty, for many valuable jewels were missing. Under the window there were the marks of fact, and here the constable found something which almost solved the mystery, a black, slovenly hat of foreign make, Isuch as is-or might be—worn by wandering Italians. Cords, the keeper, at once identified this li.it as exactly resembling that worn by the mysterious cloaked stranger in the wood, and loudly bewailed his carelessness and had luck in not having succeeded in capturing the murderous ruifian. But lamentations were useless ; the constable took down all be could gather from Cords, and the available police force, aided by dozens of volunteer detectives, at once began to scour the country in search of the foreigner. A telegram had, of coarse, been sent at once to Mr Vanstone, and, later in the day, he returned to the man .r. His wife's horrible death had al-

ready produced a marked effect upon him. Hia face was ghastly pale, wrinkled, and worn ; the suspicious look in hia eyes was so intensified as to he absolutely painful; and the. servants whispered to themselves that hia hair had turned peceptible grey. ’ Ho went straight up to his wife’s room and remained there a good hour, during which Mrs Bell, who remained outside to warn off inquisitive passers-by, heard more than one groan of anguish, and wept silently in sympathy with her master’s terrible grief. Presently ho came out with a white sol face, and enquired if a search was being made for the assassin. The housekeeper noticed for the first lime that he wore his right arm in a sling. “ Have you hurt your arm, “ sir,” she inquired, "Can Ido anything?” “ Nothing,” he answered carelessly. “I have only broken a finger—got it jammed in a cah door,” and ho showed her his hand bound up and in splints. For the next few days the entire local population, and several specially summoned detectives, searched unceasingly for the murderer without the least success. An inquest was, of course, held ; but no fresh evidence transpired. There was really none to be given except that of the gamekeeper and of the tell tale hat. No one had the least doubt that some wandering ruffian had forced his way into Mrs Vanstone’s room in hopes of plunder, and had murdered her to prevent an alarm. So a verdict was returned of “Wilful murder against some person or persons unknown,” and the Darkhurst mystery was relegated to the list of undiscovered crimes. After his wife’s funeral Owen Vanstonc went abroad, his distress being kept a secret from everyone but his solicitor. The manor was shut up, and the servants paid off; the house was left to the bats and owls, and the country people gave it a wider berth than ever, and spoke in awe-struck whispers of the the terrible shriek which on dark and stormy nights was heard to echo through the wing where the murdered woman had slept,

(To be continued,)