“AN EVIL ANGEL”

Waikato Times, Volume 122, Issue 20509, 27 May 1938, Page 10

“AN EVIL ANGEL”

CHAPTER XIX.— (Continued) Even in the trouble he felt at this first meeting with Marie after what had occurred, he looked askance at Nina, but Nina was immovable. She understood Marie, and she did not want to understand Jacob. "You believe In Philip—you will help to save him,” was Marie's piteous cry. "With all my heart and soul I believe in him, and whatever a man can do I will do for Philip. Straightforward, honest Philip to be thus impeached, it is a piece of unparalleled spite. No one can believe he is guilty.” "But the police do, since A’Court says he is committed for trial.” "No, dear Marie, A’Court is wrong. He is remanded for a week, the chief witness did not appear—during that week much may happen and shall happen. Be trustful, be brave—the Impossible shall be effected to save Philip—and have every confidence in the result.” "Oh, Jacob, how good you are—always a comforter in the time of need. You will stay with me—you will support me” Nay, that I cannot do—there are srverai irons I must try and heat for Philip s use.” At this moment Mrs Cooper glided with her usually soft step into the room. Since Philip’s arrest there had been a tranquil look of satisfaction on her face, which it had never worn while at the Grange. It was not because she was glad that Philip had been accused. With all her heart I she hoped, for Marie’s sake, that he ■ would be acquitted. Still, she could ! not help feeling pleased that her own i grim forebodings had been realised, i Like many ignorant uneducated I women, Mrs Cooper ever revelled in | the dreadful and the dismal. ; She looked especially content - and j tatistled, as she came into the room, so much so that Jacob felt so angry yed □ t her mien, that he had not the patience to address her, but turning to Marie, told her lie must be ! off. as be had work to do. He would return later in the day, and tell her if i,> researches had been success- : fill. Mrs Cooper, however, laid her hand on his arm. "Do,not hurry away. Lord Vesey, • that for which you are seeking is i perhaps nearer than you think.” | "How so—how so?” asked Jacob, ! irritably. He was in no mood placidly to wait for the fulfilment of some idle foreboding. Mrs Cooper had fastened her somewhat claw-like fingers on his arm with so firm a grip, that it was evident ' slip did not mean readily to release him. While she held him, she ad- | dressed Marie. Madame Francine wishes to sec i jou,' she said.

An Exciting Mystery Story.

(By JOHN MIDDLEMASS.)

"Madame Fran cine. Oh, mother, this is not the moment to think about Madame Francine and her toilettes.” "Madame Francine’s visit has nothing to do with dresses, but—” Cristabelle is found, she has come to life,” cried impetuous Marie, jumping at once to a conclusion. "Oh, Jacob, I am so glad you are here- Ask Madame Francine to come in.” Another minute, and the head of the great "Maison de confections” came into the room, holding in her hand an open letter. CHAPTER XX. What Has Become of Browne? "Mademoiselle is, I hope, better?” said Madame Francine with French courtesy. But Marie, to whom health at that moment was a very secondary consideration, cried irritably. “Yes, yes, but I shall be better still if you are bringing good news. Is Cristabelle found?” "Mais non. Mademoiselle, since I am assured she is dead. Well for her, perhaps, she is. To search for a modele that was lost, a placard—cupboard. you say—in Cristabelle's room was turned out under my surveillance. 1 found this letter—crumpled and dirty in a corner.” "To 'Cristabelle?” "It has not the name, but it was in her cupboard and—it is compromising.” Jacob took the half sheet of paper, on which were written the few lines Madame Francine called a letter, and read them. He was in a hurry to be off. If this had no bearing on the case, it was useless to waste the time over the Frenchwoman’s explanations. "The door will be on the latch. His lordship will not go out till eleven. Pity you can’t see him without”-- -here the paper was torn away—but on the other side were the words —"Make .t worth my while”—somewhat blurred and a date which was that of the day L-ciore the intended ntasrisgeJacob was some little time in deep consideration of this paper, then he passed it to Marie and Nina, who read it together. "Scotland Yard must have it at once,” he said, "thank heavens we have a clue that may save Morley. Who is this fellow, Madame Francine, have you. any idea? My poor cousin’s valet 'was much cross-questioned at the time, and seemed a decent sort of fellow.” “Louis!” cried Marie—"that Louis who came with Cristabelle and the dress.” "Louis cannot have been able to open mi lor’s door,” said the Frenchwoman, "he was my servant —quand memo I have advertised for him once I mo ,. e —since Mademoiselle was iil 1 1 took on myself the responsibility.” "The deuce you have!” exclaimed Nurthey, ou wham lighi seemed Jo

have suddenly dawned. "When did the advertisement appear?” "Yesterday, in several of the morning papers.” "Any mention of the murder?” "Oh no, monsieur—only ‘Madame Francine would be glad to know the address of her former porter, Louis Marchand. Would lie write or call."’ "You think he might throw some light on the matter?” "Effectivcment, since the letter was found among the rubbish in Cristabelle’s cupboard, and he was much lie with Cristabelle.” "You have had no answer?” "None, and it is not the first time I have advertised for this Louis.” "He is probably in Paris with Cristabelle,” suggested Marie. "But they tell me Cristabelle is dead," repeated the confiding Francine. "Who told you that, Madame?” asked Jacob. "One of my demoiselles, who had a letter from a maid in Paris, with a long account of how poor Mademoiselle Cristabelle had died in the Hospital Beaujon.” "A pure fiction!” decided Jacob, "between Scotland Yard and the French police it will soon be made clear whether —however, no time for talk and surmises. 1 am off with this letter to Scotland Y'ard. I will also wire to Browne, and put him on the track in Paris. "What do you think, Jacob?” asked Nina, very eagerly. "My dear child, I would rather not say. Suspicion sometimes becomes a libel. Ta ta. 1 hope when we meet again the dark cloud may have lifted somewhat.” "And I, Monsieur, can I do nothing?” asked Madame Francine, who felt a little bit as if she were being overlooked. “On the contrary, Madame, you can do much. Use all your energies in finding the valet, who lived with my poor cousin.” "Shall I also for him advertise?” "Humph! yes—offer a hundred! pounds reward to whoever gives his address. Eh, Marie, do you object?” "Certainly not —a thousand if the finding him will serve Philip." "I expect the finding of him will benefit Philip, but I don't think a thousand is necessary. Any way we will try a hundred —but, look here, Madame Francine, you stay with these ladies for a bit. I'll cab it straight to Scotland Yard, and telephone fTnal instructions within an hour. Francine agreed, received a hearty handshake from .lacob in recognition of her services, which pleased her not a little, and he was off. the letter buttoned in his breast coat pocket, a sanguine feeling at his heart, that for the last forty-eight hours had certainly not existed. More hopeful of success in clearing Morley’s name from all suspicion did he feel, than he ever believed possible, but of the how and the why it would be worked out, lie had not spoken a word to the ladies, though in-his own somewhat well-balanced brain, facts and consequences were forming themselves into a definite plan, that would have surprised most amateurs, but which the police official to whom he revealed them not only lent on attentive ear, but fully endowed. resolved to act on.

Madame Francine was rung up according to promise, and the text of the advertisements she was to insert in the leading newspapers were given j her verbatim. Not a little to her i surprise, since it ran as follows: I "A hundred pounds reward to who- ] ever supplies the address of John | Britain, valet to the late Earl of Vesey, | to Madame Francine, 690, Dover i Street, or if he himselg will call on j her the interview will be confidential ! and without danger.” That this was promising a good deal, if the man was guilty of having surreptitiously introduced an unwelcome visitor, if not an actual malefactor, into his lordship's house, neither Madame Francine nor the others could help thinking, but as the advertisement had received police sanction, theer was nothing for it but to obey, and await further orders, which Jacob said would be forthcoming about ten p.m., when he would call in Dover Street, or if he himself will call on Francine. The reason of this delay was—the hour when the telephone was in brisk sway in Mrs Cooper’s library being only three—that by ten p-m. Jacob hoped that, by the lavish use of the electric wire, such communications might be received from Paris, as would throw a strong if lurid light on sundry dark and hitherto inexplicable circumstances. The French police responded briskly, and gave the information that no one of the name of Mademoiselle Cristabelle had ever been to the Hospital Beaujon. or died there, but, since the same woman might not have given the name of Cristabelle, this did not prove much, except that supposing she had been there, there was a reason for mystery.

Further the official information was that the Comtesse Feodore had just arrived at her residence in the Rue de Madrid, her maid not with her. but expected to follow. On this subject there appeared to be no mystery, but a complication that perplexed Jacob, and worried him not a little, was that ! lie could get no reply from Hamilton Browne, who, having started from London by the early service, should have reached the Hotel St. James by three o'clock. At this hotel he said he should put up. and requested that | “wires” and letters should be sent . there. “NT. Browne had wired for a room, ; but M. Browne had not arrived,” was the only answer obtainable to Jaaab s repeated efforts to put himself into ; communication with Hamilton Browne. He was at bis wit's end. There had j been no railway accident, of that he i | was assured. What on earth could j j have happened? Browne's silence and | absence from the spot, where he was ; ; so much wanted, was most serious, i | since so much of the plan de guerre , | lie and the police had arranged, de- j i pended on the research of a trusted : | unofficial detective. If Browne failed. ! | what could they do to replace his valuable services? | So important did Jacob consider j the discovery of the whereabouts of l Browne, and his fears lest he had been by some strategem diverted from fol- | lowing out his intentions in the French I capital, that, he. resolved to ask Ger- • vase A’Court to cross the Channel, and j ascertain, if possible, what had become of Browne; Ihrough the medium i of Emma Lane. Jacob thought some

information might he obtained. A’Court at once agreed to get a fexv days leave from his office, and go, for though he could not help thinking that it was somewhat like running his head into a noose, yet the love of adventure, which is strong In most Englishmen, induced him to set consequences to himself entirely on one side; nor were Jacob’s parting words very encouraging. "For goodness sake, do be careful. Sending you is like throwing more money, after that which is already lost, but, my dear fellow, what can I do? I can’t leave the helm here, and we must get information from Paris —besides, poor Browne, what can have happened to him?’ For some hours there must be a lull,, and, although energetic Jacob rushed about seeking information in every quarter, where he thought It might be obtained, nothing was learnt that availed. All hopes were centred in the outcome of Madame Francine's advertisement, she herself remaining almost a prisoner in her own house, since her orders from the police were, that if any news came of either John Britain or Louis, they were at once to be rung up on the telephone. Tension then predominated, and no one was more affected by the terrible suspense she was called on to endure, that poor, little, sorely-tried Marie, so much so that kind-hearted Jacob who grieved sorely for her, moved every possible bit of machinery he could think of to obtain Philip Morley’s release on bail, no matter how heavy that bail might be. but the magistrate who bad presided was inflexible. Under an accusation of murder to grant bail was, he said, quite impossible. (To be continued)