THE CAREER of STELLA FRANE

Ladies' Mirror, Volume I, Issue 6, 1 December 1922, Page 32

THE CAREER of STELLA FRANE

by ISABEL MAUDE PEACOCKE

T?OTH described the pocket-book and shirt shown them by Mr. Tame, and repeated the account he had given them of his midnight experience.

After consultation with his client, Driscoll explained very plausibly the absence of their principal witness, and proposed to read his signed statement. It was read and obviously impressed the Court. This ended the case for the prosecution, and after a brief but pertinent summary of the points made in favour of the plaintiff, Driscoll sat down, and Franc’s lawyer made a brief cross-examination with the rather doubtful result of eliciting the admission that Frane might have known of Tarne’s possession of a large sum of money through a third person, who had been shown the notes by Tame himself, but whose name it was hoped need not be published.

At this daring insinuation Stella turned pale and bit her lip nervously. She knew it was a veiled threat intended to intimidate her.

The defence was a complete denial of the charge, but cleverly padded as it was, it was a bare denial and had no evidence of any weight to support it. Frane being asked if he could call any witnesses in his defence, he answered briefly, “None.” Stella half rose. Her heart was beating in thick painful throbs, the colour had drained from her face, her very lips. Her beautiful eyes, dilated now with a frightened anguish, were fixed on the hard, clever, ugly face of Driscoll as if fascinated. In a moment now she must speak, must stand up in the face of this public assembly and confess that she had been in the plaintiff’s rooms with him at nearly midnight, had been followed there by her husband and taken away by him, and in proof thereof must herself insist on the production of the scarf which Tame held as a threat over her.

It was no light thing she had to do. In all her public career no breath of scandal had ever tarnished her name, and the “pretty Puritan” that Tame had scoffed at in her was still alive and sensitive enough to shrink from a public pillorying. Nevertheless Lester, her husband, as in trouble. Innocent or guilty, he must be rescued from the consequences her indiscretion had brought upon him. Driscoll was speaking. “No doubt," he said with that suave insolence of his, and coldly-smiling eyes, “the defendant will have no difficulty in proving an alibi on the night of May 24. You can swear,” he added, turning sharply to Frane, “you were not in the plaintiff’s' rooms on the night of the 4th?” Stella held her breath. There was a momentary dead silence in the court and then came Franc’s low, dogged reply : -.“I will not swear to that.”

Sensation! Heads were turned; necks craned forward, a low buzz of comment broke out.

“Silence! Order Order!” came the voice of the crier.

“Ah!” said Driscoll significantly, and a slight pause followed. “The accused admits—or refuses to deny—that he was in the plaintiff’s rooms on the night in question, my lord—” Franc’s counsel rose.

“My client admits the fact, but instructs me to say that he was there for a purpose far otherwise” “No doubt! No doubt!” broke in Driscoll with a derisive grin. “The accused was making a friendly call, we take it. Rather an odd hour for the social amenities, however.” Stella’s fever-bright eyes fixed themselves on the powerful, coarse face of the man, her hands clenched as he proceeded in his half-sneering ironic way: “It is unfortunate for the accused, however, that he had no witness to testify to the entirely social nature of his late call.” “He had a zvitness the sweet nervously high-pitched voice broke with amazing clearness across the crowded court, and every man and woman in it started violently, and a general movement of heads began. “Order! Order!” came the monotonous call.

CTELLA was on her feet now. An exquisite flush burned on her thin cheek, her eyes were large and bright, one hand was clenched nervously against her heaving breast. There was anguish in her glance, but triumph too, for in that great moment, seeing Lester Frane stand there with his fine strong face so stoically calm, the overwhelming conviction of his innocence flooded her heart, and all thought of self died in the unspeakable comfort of that thought. She saw Godfrey Tame staring at her, ashy pale, his black eyes like pin-points of flame, his mouth set hard ; she was aware, it seemed, of hundreds of cold, curious, probing eyes; she saw her husband’s face, horror-stricken, harsh, suffused with colour, all its stoicism gone, as he started forward, crying, “Silence. Stella, I command you!” “Order ! Order !” came the cry. Heedless of all, Stella hurried on with her confession, almost breathless, lest some tiresome convention of the law might even now delay or hamper her.

“I am the wife of the prisoner. What I have to say I can swear to if necessary. On the night of May 24 Lester Frane came to Mr. Tarne’s rooms becausebecause”a rich flood of colour dyed her soft cheek, but she hastened — “I was there with Mr. Tame. Hehe persuaded me to conceal myself when we heard my husband on the stairs, but he forced Mr. Tame to open the door, and after a few words he knocked him down. We thought— feared and believed him dead, and after doing all we could to revive him we left the flat together. It was I who urged my husband to ——leave the country, and for my sake he agreed to do so. For proof of what I say, ask Mr. Tame to produce the scarf I left in his flat, and which he refused to return to me—”

The sweet tremulous tones ceased, and Stella gazed up at the judge in an agony of pleading ; shame had died in the urgent necessity of that moment. Then her eyes, bright and large -through unshed tears, sought

her husband’s face. Lester Frane stood perfectly still, his hands gripping the rail in front of him with an intensity which whitened the knuckles, his chin was bowed upon his breast, his eyes lowered. Not all the shame or blame in prospect for him had power to lower that obstinately proud head of his, thought Stella with a pang, but she had brought it low.

“He will despise me now,” she thought drearily. “Even though I did it to save him, his rigid views on a woman’s honour will hold that I am cheapened now forever.” She saw the profound, if restrained excitement all about her, the turned heads, the curious eyes and whispering lips, the reporters scribbling away delightedly at this unexpectedly piquant “story,” but she felt too numb, too weary to resent anything.

It was done now; she had smirched her good name, but she had saved her man’s honour. Then she was aroused by the big booming voice of Driscoll asking permission to speak. “What the lady has just told us throws an interesting sidelight on the case,” he remarked urbanely. “My client admits her statement to be substantially true only motives of natural delicacy prevented him from telling the same story. But what the lady does not stateprobably is unaware of —is that the prisoner returned later with the hope of robbing the supposed corpse. There can be little doubt, gentlemen; here we have the double motive, desire for revenge and urgent need of funds to make good his escape. There is the fact that the plaintiff saw and recognised the prisoner _ and the valet actually tells of meeting a man on the stairs, of a description which closely tallies with the look of the prisoner.” Stella gave a little voiceless moan. Was her sacrifice to be in vain? Then to her relief she saw that Lester Franc’s head was raised again. The old fighting look was in his eyes, that stubborn chin of his was up. Also she saw that a man who was quietly but resolutely making his way to the front of the Court, a slightly-built man. well dressed and decent looking, but something furtive and embarrassed in his look struck Stella as vaguely familiar, and she wondered a little absently where she had seen him before. Then she remembered. He was her little sick boy’s father whom she had seen at the hospital, the man who had said he would go through fire and water for her. Now he had stopped under the judge’s box, and she could hear him say low but distinctly : “Sir, I have important evidence. Can I be sworn. My name is Med—James Medlow, Mr. Tarne’s late valet.”

A buzz of interest ran through the crowd. Here was the principal witness for the prosecution, the missing valet, _ the valet who was sick a-bed. here in the flesh to testify.

TYISREGARDING a swift sign from Tame, Medlow entered the witness box, was sworn, and told his story with down-cast eyes and hands which fidgetted nervously. He looked up once, his eyes strayed and then he hastily lowered his gaze again with an unmistakable shudder. Stella’s

glance followed his and rested on the face of Godfrey Tame, intent, malignant, staring, like a wild beast in chains, at the chief ivitness for the prosecution. She, too, shivered and averted her gaze. Medlow told of his coming to Tarne’s flat and finding his master asleep and much dishevelled, then of Tarne’s story of the robbery, and his suggestion that the valet had seen Lester Frane upon the stairs as he came up.

"I want to say,” said the valet in his colourless tones, “that every word in my supposed statement was dictated by Mr. Tame, and I hope it’ll do me no harm now, since I swear freely there isn’t a word of truth in it. I’m telling this now because—because whatever happens me 1 wouldn’t do an ill turn to the lady who’s been so good to my little crippled lad. I funked the telling so long because I hoped something ’ud turn up so it wouldn’t be necessary. I only signed the cursed thing because he—Mr. Tame—had—had a hold over me like. At first I believed he’d been robbed right enough, but when I found a roll of notes tucked away in his collar-box and brought ’em to him and he called me a “meddling fool,” and got in a towering rage, i knew he’d trumped up the whole thing because —” A strange, strangled cry drew the eyes of everyone in the court to Godfrey Tame. Grey-white and gasping, his face was frightful in its baffled spite and malignant fury, as leaning on the back of his chair, one shaking finger levelled at James Medlow, he cried thickly: “Judas! Treacherous dog! I’ll have you put where you belong. Sergeant ar—arrest —that man—he is—”

A sudden ghastly blueness overspread his face; he clawed convulsively at his side and fell forward without a groan. A thrill of wild excitement ran through the court; someone cried, “a doctor,” a woman screamed.

It was a dead man they carried out of court, and this time there was no resurrection for Godfrey Tame until that dread day when it is said the sea shall give up its dead, and the secrets of all hearts shall be revealed.

XJOURS later Lester and Stella 11 Frane sat together in their home, silent, hand clasping hand. Their mutual confessions had been made and absolution sought and granted. With bitter self-reproach Frane had told his wife of his conviction of her guilt and begged her forgiveness, and she, quick and generous in the granting of his pardon, had confessed, too, that she, for some time, had reluctantly believed him to have been a thief. So confession done and forgiveness granted, they sat silently thinking over the dramatic scenes of that day. The trial had come to an abrupt end with the valet’s evidence, and an unhesitating acquittal had been given by the jury without leaving the court. Frane had come out of court with old John Graham, to find Stella awaiting him with a half-pleading, half-proud look in her soft eyes. Franc’s face had whitened strangely as they met, but John Graham "had stepped forward and clasped her hand, saying gently: “You’re a brave lass —a good lass. Here, take her, Lester, lad; ye’ve reason to be proud of her, and remember what I told you, a place in my business is ready for you whenever you want it.” Then he had raised his hat and left them, and Stella found her trembling hand in Lester’s, which was trembling too, but warm and close and protecting. She heard his broken murmur: “Stella! Stella! Forgive—my brave girl.” As in a dream they made their way to Stella’s car, stopping only to speak a word to James Medlow, who was leaving the place also.

“Mr. Medlow, how can I thank you?” cried Stella, and the man dropped his eyes uneasily, as Frane held out his hand silently. - “That’s—that’s all right, sir,” he muttered. “I don’t say but what I might’ve let you down, you see; Mr. Tame was making it worth my while, but Mrs. Frane here—welll couldn’t forget what she’s done for my boy.” “And,” said Stella warmly, “we’ll never forget what you’ve done for us. I’ll see you get employment, Never mind your past mistakes; your secret’s safe now, and your boy will live to be proud of you.” So they parted from him, and soon the blessed silence and solitariness of their own home closed about them like warm protecting wings. “Lester, darling,” said Stella, breaking a long silence, filled with the dancing play of firelight on the slowlydarkening walls, “you look worn and tired, poor boy. You’re not nearly strong yet, and I have a little plan.” “Yes, dearest,” he smiled, and raised her hand to his lips. “Well,” she said, and gently stroked his hand, “ I want you to take me away somewhere for a time, quite six months or a year, Lester. We’ll

take a house in some quiet country place where we will have peace and freedom and leisure to knit up the ravelled ends of our lives again.” He was silent so long with bent head, that she asked timidly: “Lester, don’t you like my plan?” “Like it!” he said, and his voice trembled. “I’m not a religious chap, but I suppose everyone has his■ own idea of heaven, and thatthat—been mine, Stellaa little housethe quiet countryside at evening—a lighted windowthe world shut out—a warm fireside and you —my beloved, my wifejust you.” He bent and laid his cheek to hers a moment, and then with a start, he cried: “But — my girl, your career — public life— must not suffer through any selfishness of mine. You must —shall not neglect that.” With a little sound between sobbing and laughter she caught his face between her two hands and kissed him on the lips, “You’re my career at present,” she whispered, with a little tender smile, “After, we shall see—” (The End). .. ■