Rhyl Journal

ftTTBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.] THE SENTENCE OF THE COURT. BY HEADON HILL, Author of "The Queen of Night," "Guilty Gold," "By a Hair's-breadth," &c., &c. [COPYRIGHT.] chapter I.-A PINK tumbler AND TWO PALE FACES. -from where the old doctor sat, just "within the Pen French -window of his study, there was little i,86 to be seen in the gathering gloom of night but f' sparkle of the dev. drops on the lawn and the ic shapes of the shrubs in the fringe of i !Riature jungle that lay between it and the low °jindary wall. j. inside, a shaded reading-lamp shed a chastened ffht on Doctor Bathurst's silvered- head, on the Tantalus and tumbler that had been placed eadv for the mixing of his modest- "night-cap," M on the home-ly furniture of a room eminently r Otnfortabh but not ia the least luxurious. The ,°°m of a confirmed bachelor any student of latter- ly garnishing would have at onee pronounced it, noting the absence of all unserviceable frip- J>erles. And from that quiet room there was as little to be ae there was to be seen at five minutes past r1? on a summer evening in such a retired Hamp- .a village as Monk's Hadley. D;stant "good- ^Suts and the muffled shooting of bolts told that e one inn in the place—the Swan, of good repute '\1Vas closing the receding rattle of gig wheels on j highway heralded the passing of some belated arttier from market-day festivities at [Basingstoke away down in the meadows at the back of e oUey Wood a bereaved cow was lowing. But *Cept for these rustic sounds all was very still. It as a fine night and oa-lm, with neither wind nor to break thei silence with Nature's voices. „ Suddenly an additional sound fell upon the doo- °r s ears an additional sight, after a 'brief interval, Altered the limited field of his vision. The side- in the garden wall clicked and the figure of a *Van was seen to quit the shadow of the trees and pad hesitatingly at the verge of the shrubbery, .^king towards the house. Only for a moment was j/'s hesitation noticeable with confident tread the began to cross the lawn. tb.Doc-tor Bathurst, who had been half-dozing, roueed "lrnself wiped his glasses and readjusted them, but 'jl the light failed him. 'Who can this be?" he murmured. "The long Nation has not begun yet and the Selwoods are t,?' at the Priory, or I should have thought it waa jlr Henry. I don't know who else would make t0 come *n ky the garden gate at this time of "Ight. j fhe doctor was right in his conjecture the in- vader was not his old friend and neighbour Sir 5flry Selwood, youngest of Her Majesty's Judges the High Court, but a bird of gaudier plumage ,.an that successful lawyer. The old man started i ghtly, and the line of his firm mouth stiffened ag j.e recognised Leger Vipan, the new-fledged mil- .naire who had recently bought the fine old man- %"311 known as liookley Wood. I owe you an apology for this burglarious sort J entry. Doctor," Yipan began as aoon as he reached circle of the lamplight. My excuse must be for all parties concerned it will be better if our l^erview has no witnesses or eavesdroppers. I Jj°Ught that by seeking you thus at this hour I v 0'ild ensure privacy, your servants having pro- y gone to bed." (f, You seem to have studied my habits," replied the 1 *p*itor grimly, motioning the other to enter and j01*1 himself, but taking no notice of the note of l^rrogation in the tone of his last sentence. 1 If I hadn't studied people's habits, as a regular abit 0f my own, I should not have my present at my bankers' laughed Yipan. li ^pito the airiness of his laugh, however, the mil- Claire was palpably nervous. He had drawn one the small dining-ch&irs to the table, and had so f*aced it that Doctor Bathurst. could not wholly ?^riitini«e him without moving the heavy arm-chair »5, ^vhioh he sat or inconveniently turning his head, j nervousness did not show itself in speech, but i?fidgetty movements. Yipan was sitting close to j6 trav of creature comforts. He played with the of the soda-water syphon, examined the pad- ^k of the Tantalus, and held up to the light the llflk tumbler into which the doctor always measured "^sparing allowance of whisky before retiring. ,i Presently he put down the glass and folded his leaning forward with elbows on the table. Now, Doctor, you know why I have come," he iP- You are not going to give me away?" j it was Doctor Bathurst's turn to laugh now—a '\1V, well modulated, gentlemanly laugh, like hard a.ter rippling over pebbles. If you mean by your 1 Odern slang that I am not going to disclose what 5 know of your -antecedents to Sir Henry Selwood are much mistaken," he said. Vipan oast a furious glance at the doctor, but j^ed down the scowl on perceiving that he was observed. The millionaire was a trim-built j of middle age and middle height, wearing a fair moustache and imperial that at first sight him rather a distinguished air—an impression J^t was, however, quickly negatived for any student ?• character by the shifty expression in his close-set, 3.n, blue eyes. throwing back the flap of the Inverness oape that leered his evening dress, he produced a- cheque- ^^k and a stylographic pen. "Come, Doctor," he with an assumption of friendliness, isn't it 1a time for you to leave off driving about muddy to patch up rustic patients, who, I daresay j^n't half of them pay you? I don't ask your for- t ^arance fdr nothing. Let write yon a cheque will make your old age comfortable—without ^necessity for further work." °ctor B^hurst sat up in his arm-chair and I ^ned a gaze of resentful incredulity upon his visi- r. "You are a new comer in these parts, sir, or Would never have made me such an offer a9 he said, with stem dignity. As i^ is, I svis- you have lived long enough in Monk's Hadley make you more than doubtful of its acceptance. you think," the old man went on, with growing catmth, that any money bribe can atone for your Induct to my niece « Not a bribe, my dear sir; pray do not call it j jia(j hoped Yipan tried to interrupt, the doctor would have none of it. \lLet me finish what I have to say," he insisted. 1 ^hen I heard that the nich financier who had Rookley Wood was making up to my old Selwood's daughter, I was sick and sorry "ough because I've known Irene from babyhood, there isn't a dearer girl in the world. So far. Clever, I was helplese for though I have not liked sir, it waa no affair of mine. But when by an Indent I discovered yesterday that you were the who two years ago caused Rita so much un- J*Ppiness mv way was clear. As I wrote you this ite°riring. that story shall not only be told to Sir ofellry Selwood, but to everyone within a radius j. twenty miles. It will get you cut by the county— J hack to your right position as a rank outsider." millionaire, who had taken to toying with tha tumbler again, made no great effort to stem the jj*^nt of menacing abuse. He did not reply im- a^iately, and when he did his feeble protest had I V6 rin? of being intended to serve some purpose of own—could it have been to gain the vantage of I I?041** minute or -two in that room?—rather tnan ipPnvince his hearer. I You are taking a harsh view; MIS9 Bathurst I "It have misrepresented me," he said at length. jw Pardon me, but there was no misrepresentation, the Doctor, hotly. You inducted Rita to up a valuable situation by a promise of mar- ine— £ .promise which you never meant to fulfil—■ then having thus deprived her of her mdepen- ine— £ promise which you never meant to fulfil- Q then having thus deprived her of her mdepen- ycnl insulted her with proposals which, y'M honest girl as «he was, Bhe flung back in your yh. Deny it IT you carr." his indignation the old mart turned away, and, ^ing back ia his ohair with Bomsthiny of the U^^ness of contempt., looked out over the moonlit t. neRtI of contempt., looked out over the moonlit Vipan, easting a ftirtivfe glance at him, put k- tumbler softly down in the tray, and rose from I ,,h.air don't think that you are ta tha mood •<> listen to denials to-night," h« (|3>ill look round in the morning, when you have on my- proposition, in the hope of nieeting better luck. I may go out by the garden- I suppose? Thaftka 1 I wish you good-night, I; 2?bor." IV^t0 passed out through the open window, and, les» of confidenoe in his gait than had marked tkS approach, crossed the lawn and disappeared ii* «hrubbery warlk..The doctor listened for the of the gate, and he had to listen quits a long but it came at last. but it came at last. The fellow slunk away like a whipped cur; I too many guns for him," the old man <t/Uckled, and wheeling his chair round he drew M^irds him the tray on which stood the tantalus, *ypHan of eoda-water and the pink tumbler. 1 v,ant something to take the taste of that ^J^ndrei out of my mouth," he told himself, as \»*a'sed the glass to his lips. t ^alf-an-h-oar iater^t-o be precise, at ten minutes eleven-—a young man turned his bicycle from the 3'n London road into the lano that skirted the v.^n wall, and dismounting at tho gate wheeled 4 Iha.chine into the grounds. Propping it against Convenient tiee in the shrubbery, he ina.4,e hiiJ to the edge of the lawn and did exactly what i,lpan had done on approaching the house. That say he itood gazing across at the doctor s »>? window. hesitation, however, lasted somewhat longer that of the previous visitor. Uncle Jem has I l £ to bed," he muttered as. he noted the lamp- %llt- I ought to be glad, I suppose, since I put Pace on purf>o6e jto find him up; yet 1 m if it isn't a sort of a sedl after all. I etmply the old' chap's bitter to?cgw>»e foou »s i tell w Qiy errand." w ray errand." peered about curiously in the gioom with the of one trying to recall long-forgotten land for Cyril Bathurst had not been to Monk's 41) -r sStRcn he was a boy of fourteen, and he was jand twenty. He waa of that unlucky -people* good-hnmouredly desortbs aa no- jr'n enAW but hie own." Weak as water and at trutM"1- he had Upn expelled from school fl '•he ajre nf and thewtce onward had been £ £ £ £ » of *ulties. Left "ltb, had liberally provided for his further education and maintenance, but had refused to receive him till he should have purged his offence. This, so far, he had never done. Indeed, in his node's opinion he had gone from bad to worse, till now, at an age when most men are settled into the stride of their careers, he had already made a failure of the opening accorded to him by Doctor Bathurst's generosity. It was to announce that fact and to appeal for pecuniary aid that he had come to the house late at night, hoping that by sparing his uncle the disgrace of his open appearance there he might soften his heart. I must brace myself to it," be thought, as he gazed at the lamp-lit window. An ugly story, too, to have to tell, after the coin he's shelled out over me already, while I was cramming for the Qxams. and walking the hospital." He had been dismissed without notice from his employment as assistant to an East-end medical man for neglecting an important case in order to attend a suburban race-meeting. His neglect had ended in a death and an inquest, and well he knew that it would bi regarded from the stern profes- sional view of the old country practitioner a-s an unpardonable sin. Yet he was almost without im- mediate resources and entirely without prospects. There was nothing for it but to make lull confession and beg for one more chance. "Here goes!" he said; "after all, the old boy was my father's brother. He may read the riot- act and then fizzle out into the noble benefactor once more." Quickly crossing the lawn Cyril Bathurst stepped through the Fronc-h window, and at first thought that his uncle, who lay back in his arm chair, was asleep. But he had not taken two paces into the room when his heart began to throb at what he saw, and he clutched at the table for support. The old man's eyes weire wide open and staring sight- lessly straight in front of him. Cyril's medical knowledge told him that this was the sleep of death, and puJling himself together he sank on his knees at the side of the chair, to apply the usual tests to pulse and heart. Stone dead, but very slight abatement of tem- perature," he 6aid to himself. It must have hap- pened within the last half-hour." And then, as he rose to his feet and noticed 'a slight froth round the doctor's lips he bent dcwn again and made a hasty examination of the staring eyes. From that to a scrutiny of the dregs in the pink tumbler he glided intuitively, and when. he set the glass down again his face was that of a thoroughly frightened man. He has poisoned himself, as sure as fate," Cyril murmured. The trouble is that if I raise an alarm, or it is known that I have been here to-night, I shall be suspected of murdering him." For the moment his one idea was to get away quietly, so that no one should ever be the wiser of his midnight visit; but professional instinct pre- vailed and detained him a little longer. "I wonder what the stuff was," he asked himself. A vegetable alkaloid of some kind--strophanthu3 for choice. I would work out the time of action for different doses on the basis of his temperature if I had a piece of paper. Ah. here is a sheet of waste on the floor-back of a letter it looks like. Let me see, now-" And after inserting his pocket clinical thermo- meter in the dead man's mouth and reading the record on the instrument, he jotted down certain calculations on the paper he had picked up. Ye", that must have been the drug," he mu. mured, "and it is one easily detected by analysis,. If I rinse out the tumbler there will probably be no question of poison at all, and death will be attri- buted to natural failure of the heart's aetion." Suiting the action to the word he squirted some soda-water from the syphon into the glass, threw the contents out of the window, and after wiping it with his handkerchief replaced it on the tray. Then, after a last half-regretful look at the silent figure, he abstractedly thrust the paper into his breast pocket and quitted the room by the way he had come. "I don't like to leave the old boy staring like that with those terrible eyes, but if I closed them it would he a give-away that someone had been here since his death," Cyril thought, as he re-crossed the lawn. He reached the shelter of the shrubbery, and was raising his bicycle from the tree against which he had propped it when the garden gate was softly opened and someone entered the grounds. Hampered with his machine, there was no time for the young doctor to draw back from the path before he was observed, and knew that he was observed, by the man who had come in from the road. The letter after a moment's pause came on, and the two passed P.ch other so closely in the narrow path that their clothes touched. Yet each preserved, for his own weighty reasons, a silence that could have been felt, and all that the dead man's arriving and departing visitor saw of the other was a pale face slinking by in the gloom. That was Vipan, the City swell who has taken Rookley Wood," said Cyril Bathurst to himself, wheeling his bicycle out into the road when the other had passed on to the house. I know him by his pictures in the illustrated papers; but thank God he doesn't know me by sight." And while Yipan went on to the death chamber to search for a letter that he had dropped, Cyril mounted his machine and rode Londonwards, peddling hard along the deserted country road so as to get as far as possible from the village before that late seeker for the old doctor's services, as he be- lieved him to be, should raise an alarm on discover- ing the quiet nature in the arm-chair. Cyril Bathurst might have saved his wind, foT that alarm was never raised. CHAPTER II.—A CHANGE OF SHOES. For several days Cyril waited feverishly in hit East-end lodging for news of his uncle's death tt reach him by one of the legitimate channels by which it might be expected. But a wc-ek passed without his being notified, as next of kin, by Doctor Bathurst's solicitor, nor did he see any mention of the occurrence in the newspapers. The latter fact, as the days went on, began to have a soothing influence on him for he argued from it that the death had been attributed to natural causes and had therefore been held as of no public interest. It was not till the eighth day that the slatternly general who waited on him laid a blue envelope with the Basingstoke post-mark by his breakfast plate and he knew that his suspense was to come to an end. Tearing the letter open, he heaved a sigh of relief. The writers were Prout and Sen—who described themselves as the late Doctor Bathurst's legal ad- visers and accounted for the delay in communicating with him by the difficulty they had had in finding his address. They went on to inform him of the doctor's sudden demise from acute disease of the heart and of the arrangements made by themselves, in the absence of available relatives, for the funeral, which had taken place three days before. But the surprise of the letter was in its concluding sentences. "We have further to inform you," the lawyers went on, that your uncle ha.s left you as his sole residuary legatee. After the payment of his just debts there will be very little cash to come to you—we estimate it at about a hundred pounds— but tho remainder of the lease of his house is at your disposal, as well as the furniture and the goodwill of his praotice. The latter should yield some;64,00 per annum, and your uncle stipulates that you shall personally carry it on or take no benefit under the will at all. Assuming that you will carry out his wishes, we respectfully point out that the sooner you come down to Monk's Hadley the better, as there are several patients in the practice who may seek other advice if not soon attended to." Cyd Bathurst laid the letter down with mingled feelings. His self-indulgent nature was incapable of any deep gratitude unless the benefit conferred waa altogether to his liking, and to bury himself in a Hampshire village on a small competency was hardly the ptospect he would have chosen. Yet he had begun to make inroads into his last five-pound note, and the bequest would at any rate solve his immediate difficulties. He would go down to Monk's Hadley at once, take over the prac- tice and sell it later on if he tired of it. At any rate there was the trifle of ready money, and the furniture; and the absence of suspicion as to the cause of death would enable him to enter into possession without any nervous dread of being con- nected with it. "les IL good thing I wiped cut that tumbler," he told himself, as lie lit his pipe and lounged on to the sofa to con the sporting column of the morning paper. He had speculated one of his last-remaining sovereigns or. a horse that was to run at Goodwood that day, ?nd he wanted to see the latest odds. It was pleasant to feel that he could now regard the result of the race with equanimity, even if it went against him. But ail this complacency was premature. In searching for the betting intelligence his eye WIUI arrested by the black headlines over a prominent paragraph; thus:- "MYSTERIOUS DEATH OF A MEDICAL MAN. THE BODY TO BE EXHUMED." With his nerves all quivering Cyril forgot all about the betting hilts and read as follows: — "Some excitement has been caused in North Hampshire by the news that suspicion of foul play has arisen in connection with the death of Doctor Bathurst at Monk's Hadley. The deceased Wad buried on Friday last, death being certified as duo to heart disease but we understand that in- formation is forthcoming which has caused the magistrates to apply for an exhumation order with a VJew to an autopsy and an inquest. Mr. Leger Yipan, the well-known millionaire, who recently acquired the magnificent mallsion and estate known as Rookley Wood, h;1; taken a leading part in moving the authorities." Cyril tossed the paper from him wit.h an oath of consternation. The bright prospect opened up by the lawyers' letter a moment before was blotted out by the pregnant seatenoes of that. brief report, which meant that if he set foot in Monk's Hadley he would very likely have to stand his trial for murder. That cursed meddlesome brute Yipan must have noticed me in the shrubbery," he muttered. "Though he doesn't know me by sight he may have got my description, and there is this legacy to fit me with a motive for the crime. The chances are that it was that that started him on the war-path." The more he turned the matter over the tighter the dre-id gripped him that if he went down to claim his own he would be putting his neck in jeopardy, for everything Uaci conspired to tell against him. His secret midnight visit to his uncle's house, hIs identification by Vipan as the visitor, his benefit under the will, and above all the fact of his having washed the fatal tumbler, would furnish the prose- cuting counsel with a. terrible array of circumstan- tial evidence which would gather its significance as soon as traces of poison should Jaavo 4)WMt found in the bodx. In his agitation he rose and paced the na.rrow nmrs of his room, and, finding no relief, he put on his hat and left the house. Aimlessly he drifted westwards, brooding over his dilemma, till a little after noon h", found himself in the Strand. He was staring into a shop window, hardly seeing what his eyes rested on. when a hand was laid on his shoulder and he turned round in a flutter of fear. Instead of the detective whom he had expected to confront, he saw a. young fellow of about his own ago looking into his face with kindly eyes, while tha hand that had slapped his shoulder was outstretched for a friendly graRp. Maiden! George, old chap! How you made me jump was all he could stammer for the moment in his relieved surprise. I thought I wasn't mistaken," said the other warmly. "How goes it with you, Cyril? Why, It must be five years sinc3 we parted at Bart's, with the ceNainty that we were each about to become shining lights in the medical world. I hope that the dream has been realised in your case; it hasn't in mine." Or in mine, either." said Cvril, with a weary shake of his head. The best prospect ahead of mo is a country practice in a hole-and-corner village m Hampshire, which has just been bequeathed to me by a deceased relative. I hate the very name of tha place, and don't want to go there yet I'm stony broke, old man, and it's a case of Monk's Hadley or starvation." "Monk's Hadley!" exclaimed George Maiden, a blush deepening the sun-tan on his healthy, boyish face. And then, as though to hide the confusioa which Cyril was clearly observing, he added quickly, Look here, we can't stand here blocking the pave- ment all day. Come and lunch with me at Simp- son's over there. We'll mingle our woes over a oulj oif the joint-for I've got woes, tOG." Cyril assented, and they crossed the street together, to find themselves a minute later seated at a corner table in a big dining-room. Cyril's already shaken nerves had been set all agog by his friend's sudden emotion, and as soon as the waiter had retired no asked abruptly: — "Why did you start when I mentioned Monk's Hadley? Do you know the place?" George Maiden broke into a laugh in which there was a tinge of bitterness. "No. I don't," he said, "and I'm never likely to. That's one of the woes I wanted to mingle—for I couldn't well tell you the yarn in the street. It's '1. queer, thing that I met you this morning, grizzling hecause you've come into a practice at Monk'3 Hadley, while I would plank down a tidy sum to stand in your shoes. And it's a queerer thijig still that till half-an-hour ago I had never heard of the place." Go on. man, let's hear the facts," said Cyril Bathurst, hoarsely. In his morbid fear he could not conceive that any interest could attach to Monk's Hadley apart from the trouble that was exercising his own mind. "Well," Maiden went on rather sheepishly, "the main fact is that I have fallen in love-on sight, too, to use the stock phrase—with a girl who hails from the village to which you have such an objection. I wonder if you know her-Miss Selwood—the daughter of Sir Henry Selwood. the judge?" "I haven't been near the place since I was a boy, and the Selwoods hadn't bought the Priory then." Cyril replied with a sigh of relief. In his selfish dread he cared little about his former fellow- student's love affair, but George Maiden's enthusiasm was too fresh to let him off the story. It appeared that Maiden, who was in the Army Medical Department, had been wa ;kingaros5 Hyde Park that morning when at some risk he had stopped a runaway horse and cart just as it wa.s on the point of dashing into a young lady on a bicycle. It had been such a nea.r shave that the machine was jammed against the rails and so broken that it had to be wheeled home. I daresay you don't believe in affinity and all that kind of thing," George proceeded, but as soon as that girl began to thank me prettily for what little I had done I lost my heart to her there and then. I felt as if I had known her for years. She told me that she was Sir Henry Selwood's daughter, and that she was going down to Monk's Hadley this afternoon, where, sho felt. sure, if I was ever in the neighbourhood, her father and mother would be very glad to see me and thank me in person. You see my coa.t was torn, and my hand was bleeding. I looked a jolly sight more of a hero than I really was." "It seems all plain sailing for you, said Cyril. If vou are so hard hit, why don't you take her at her word and give him a look up. Mr. Justice Sel- wood can hardlv hang you under the circumstances." "Wait a minute, I haven't done yet," Georrre went on. As Miss Selwood had been good enough to introduce herself, I saw no reason why I shouldn't return tho compliment, and I was on the point of telling her my name and explaining why to my profound regret I should be unable to call at Monk's Hadley, when our tete-a-teto was interrupted. A nasty," shifty-eyed, cynical-looking bounder, whom she addressed as 'Mr. Vinan,' sauntered up. and after making a lot of fuss about the accident, offered to wheel the damaged bike home for her. "I don't think she noticed that his manner to me was distinctly offensive—fixing me through his eye-glass as though I were an intruder—for she ac- cepted his offer there and then and went off with him with nothing more for me but. a nod and a smile. It struck me that she wasn't best pleased with the attentions of her cavalier, but accepted them under stress of some social motive unknown to me but of course as a. stranger I couldn't object to her being assisted by a man with whom she was on terms of familiar acquaintance." Absorbed in his own affairs Cyril Bathurst paid morc attention to the viands on his plate than to •his friend's narrative till Vipan's name was men- tioned. At that he pricked up his ears and listened carefully to the end. Very annoying; I can understand how you would have liked to kick Vipa.n," he said viciously, though without explaining why he would have en-, joyed that luxury himself. "But you haven't yet divulged what you were prevented from telling Miss Selwood—why you are barred from calling on her people." Simply because I have got an appointment as medical officer in the Falkland Islce. and am leav- ing England the day after to-morrow for five years," replied George Maiden, ruefully. There followed a long pause, during which Cyril fidgetted with his broad, pulling it into strange shapes. At last he looked up. and avoiding his friend's full gaze said, with a laugh: — You were wishing you stood in my shoes just now. old man. I really don't see any reason against Why shouldn't we swop identities—you going down to Monk's Hadley a.nd taking up my uncle's practice as me, and I going out to the Falkland Isles as George Maiden, of the Army Medical De- partment. This would give us both the chance we want. You would sea more of your fair heroine of this morning's adventure, and I—well, I should gratify my propensity for roving further afield." "Are you serious in making this proposal?" "Never more go." U Then, by Jove, it's a go!" replied Maiden, eagerly. « Let us settle the details at once." (To be continued.)