The Rhos Herald

-R_,W (Axx. RIGHTS Ebsekvbd.) Doctor Franklin's Crime BY C7r~CrE > motld md is aoubt. less still withiu tho recollection of many who Were acquainted with the West-end about the year 1886. Many may also remember that Cyril' Lawrence died very suddenly, twelve months after his retirement froiu business and also the great sensation caused by the disappearance of a magnificent ruby, valued at twenty the'and pounds,, which was known to 11a ve. ell in his possession up to the morning of is death. Few people, however, are aware that two years ago the n.ystery surrounding the dis- appearance of the stone was solved in a start- ling manner. The facts were revealed by a wretched imbecile, and have since been fully confirmed. One morning in May, 1887, Cyril Lawrence was seated at the escritoire in his study in Kensington Palace-gardens. His forehead rested in the palms of his hands, and his el- bows on his writing pad. He was thinking more deeply than perhaps he had ever thought before. At sixty-five years of age he was still un jnarried. He did not possess a striking ap- pearance, being o'f very short stature, very stout, and clean-shaven. His most treasured possession was an im- mense ruby—an exquisite stone of great size and value, the disposal of which, knowing, as he did, that he was likely to expire without ft moment's warning, caused him untold per- plexity. He might have one hour to live, or perhaps one year. Such was the opinion of the well-known heart specialist, Doctor Mas- terton Franklin. Valvular disease or some- thing akin, was the trouble. But Dr. Frank- lin secretly suspected something more mys- terious. He was conscious that there existed symptoms strange to the disease. This sus- picion gradually deepened until he became convinced that there were present all the evi- dences of a ventricular disease, with which as yet the medical profession was but meagrely acquainted. The thirst for knowledge burned so strong in his veins, that his search in this direction was the cause of his undoing—aye, worse, that also of his daughter Sibyl, a beautiful girl, the idol of her father, whose very existence appeared to be dependent on her happiness. But we must not anticipate. Cyril Lawrence had disposed of all his other earthly possessions in his will, but this one he had held over, unable to determine to whom such an enviable possession should belong. He was not going to bestow at ran- dom on some distant relative this priceless stone, which more than one crowned head of Europe had sought, but failed, to secure. Unable to control his agitation, he rose, and opening a tiny drawer, cunningly concealed, in the heavy rosewood leg of the desk, he took thence a small velvet-lined box, and opening it, laid it on the writing pad in front of him. There, as in a mossy cradle, J,.y the ruby, its carmine depths fascinating the old man's gaze, which was one of troubled pleasure. Five minutes passed and still his eyes lin- gered fondly on the atone. He was lost in thought. Slowly he reached out and took the box in his left hand and lifted out the gem. But too here the end came. A stidden spasm passed across his features?, At if he were in agbnv. A convulsive twitch of the lips, a grey pallor succeeded the look 9f pain, the limbs relaxed, and Cyril Law fence sank to the floor—daad. Dr. Franklin called a few hours later, and being on most intimate terms with Law- rence, he ran lightly tip the stairs, tapped at the study door and walked in, to find his patient beyond human aid, in fact, cold. There was the usual consternation when the news spread, and it was only after the dead man had been removed that his ser- vant and confidant bethought him of replac- ing in its case the ruby which he never doubted was somewhere on the desk in the studv. He gently loosed the case from the dead man's fingers and returned to the study, where his alarm became unbounded upon failing to find any trace of the ruby. The police were immediately communicated with, but all efforts to find the stone failed. Dr. Franklin, who was first to enter the study, stated that he had not seen the ruby, al though he had noticed the empty case in the dead man's grasp. Lawrence's servant, al- though minutely questioned, was beyond doubt ignorant of its whereabouts. It "had vanished as absolutely as if it had melted into thin air. Lawrence was laid to rest in the family vault at E-- Cemetery, and yet another mystery was added to the long list of lost or stolen gems. At the time the foregoing incident occur- red, Sibyl Franklin was receiving marked at- tention from a rising young architect, Stephen Oswald by name. He was a dark, foreign- looking man, decidedly handsome, and des- pite his Italian appearance as purely Eng- lish as Sibyl herself. He was rapidly ad- vancing in his profession, possessed most charming manners, was of good birth, and in fact had everything to recommend him, but the doctor disliked him. He did not forbid the acquaintance, but there was no mistak- ing his disapproval of anything beyond that, and he had told Stephen Oswald so, plainly. Often the doctor grew uneasy, as when, for instance, he observed the red colour suffuse the girl's face when Stephen's hand took hers, an evidence trifling enough perhaps, but disturbing to the peace of mind of the fond and jealous father. A year passed from the time Cyril Law- rence died, when one evening Sibyl wandered into her father's library. The bright fire looked so tempting that soon her youthful form was stretched on the sheepskin rug in front of the blazing coals. In a few minutes her restless eyes ccased to follow the phan- torn shadows that leapt about the room, and became fixed on a bunch of keys hanging ia the lock of a small Oriental cabinet that adorned one corner of the room. Out of pure curiosity she arose and turned the key in the lock and drew open the tiny drawer. Soon the keys disclosed the contents of all the drawers except one. The others had con- tained chiefly Eastern curios, finely carved tusks, delicately wrought gold ash-trays, and trinket boxes inlaid with mother of pearl.' The last one opened with a click, and she took out an old gold snuff-box. Opening it, she saw inside a big red stone. She returned to the fireplace, the stone now in the palm of her hand, and let the glow of the flames scin- tillate and dance upon it. A soft step sounded in the doorway, and her father walked in. On seeing the girl he held out his arms and kissed the soft curly head. But in an instant his manner changed, as, thrust- ing her away from him, he asked angrily, "What have you been doing here, child?'. Exploring," she answered in a concilia- tory tone I As I can sec," glancing at the girl's out- stretched hand. "Had you my permission?" ^-<>—fr*1* done no harm." "2m harm/' fee echoed, harshly, "perhaps not—Clod oalv knows." '■ ft-- of a V:\?:! fhe > *»**•-<■ tamed away, and the doctor j could see ? th heave of her shoulders that she ,¡:yi;.g. IfVith oivi sLride he was bo- i £ ;■{•■> c5 tk her again- within his arms, ? io '<* "I i*ce against his shoulder, and j looting down tenderly upon the streaming f eyes. "God forgive me," he murmured. | Sibyl disengaged herself, and replacing the j stone in its receptacle, and that in the drawer, turned the key and handed tho hunch to her father. "Father. I am sorry," she said, than turned and left the room. The doctor sat down in a huge leather chair and frowned. "What if she suspects," he I mattered or if she should actually find out." lie covered his face with his hands and regained so for hours. Meamvhile Sibyl was locked in her room. There was a terrible thought dawning on her mind. Cyril ruby had never been found! Her father had been the first to find the man dead; the jewel box, in his cold hand --her father's recent anger his frightened look—all these incidents crowded in upon her like a nightmare, and when morning came she had not closed her eyes. 1 A- week passed—one of" sleepless nights and dread forebodings to Sibyl. She had grown strangely silent, moving about the house like a spectre, her features white and haggard. [ Once- she had an opportunity to talk to her father, and on that occasion he gently but effectually silenced her. His refusal to allay the suspicions, which he must have known ex- isted in her mind, was the completing1 thread of evidence needed to drown her hopes and confirm her worst fears. Even Stephen Oswald was unable to arouse or amuse her. A week of endless anxiety culminated in her resolMing to leave her father's house. Her health, mental as well as physical, made a change of scene imperative. But, to her, a more important reason was that she was growing daily more nervous, and the chances of her secret being revealed by her in her sleep, or as she feared, through delirium, in- creased every moment. Stephen Oswald called that evening, re- solved to once more place his claim before Dr. Franklin. Sibyl received him in the drawing-room. He was alarmed at the pale- ness of her face. '"Sibyl, you look wprse than ever this evening. in beaven's name, what is the matted" he asked.. Nothing really, Stephen. A few months change of air will do wonders for me." I wish I could think so," he replied. An attempt of Sibyl's to smile ended in failure. Stephen was quick to notice it. His hand touched her arm. "Sibyl, will you not confide in me?" "Is there anything to confide?" she asked. Yes, I am certain. Some worry is on your mind." You fancy so, Stephen." "Instinctively I know I am right." "Your mistake then!" "Has your father been again admonishing you to exercise your discriminating abilities at the expense of my character?" You misjudge father!" But he did tell you I played too high at the tables." "And you do." Well-once, in a way, perhaps, Sibyl. But say--I must talk to him again to-night. I will compel him to sanction our engage- smeafj "He is in a bad humour to-day." "Always is, lately. He will not improve presently." Don't say anything unkind, Stephen! Promise me?" "Ail depends, little girl, on H His amiability? Promise me" "Weil—if he consents I—I "Or if he doesn't, for my sake promise." "-Wllat wonM I not promise for your dear sake, Sibvl. But cheer II Ii; I will not offer him choice of weapons jvr.-l yet!" Sibyl heard the door of the study open; as Stephen entered her f.-tfhrr's presence. Then she came and sat on the stairs and waited. A faint hope was in her mind. A far away chance of an early honeymoon. Honey- moon," she said aloud, and her lips parted in a smile at the incongruity. a smile at the incongruity. The sound of voices floated up from the study, as she heard the door open again. You hare my answer—now please go." You have my answer—now please go." "If I do, it is to expose your guilt to the I world/' A pause. Sibyl nearly slipped down the stairs in her fright, but just managed to catch hold of the oaken stair rail in time to save herself. "Which is it to be, Doctor, your daughter's hand, or—your honour?" "I refuse my sanction, you scoundrel. Now gc, or I will ring for Evane to see you out of my house." A bell tinkled and a servant hurried along the passage. Stephen met him as he closed the door behind himself. -All right, Evans, I will see to the Doc- t.es orders, thank yon." Sibyl was in the conservatory in a fainting condition when Stephen rejoined her. The cool air soon revived her. 1,11 have failed again," he said, dejectedly. Thep with a burst of boyish impetuosity, Look here, Sibyl, I could almost ask you to elope." Elope?" she echoed with a faint smile. "Are you so impatient?" I would be patient if there were hope, but I see none. Good position, fair prospects, pedigree, all that sort of thing, but in your father's estimation undesirable.' Oh! hang it all, I'm sick of the whole thing." But you have my love, Stephen." A forbidden sweet, and which but serves to make the situation more tantalising." You are unkind." No, no, forgive me, but I want you en- tirely, my dearest, for my life's companion. Yes, I could almost run away with you." And I—I could almost allow you to." "Yon are not serious, Sibyl?" Perfectly—honour trigilt Tramediateiv?" why wt? Life without you, Stephen, j would be a dreary thing Your father would never forgive us." I would risk everything. When he learns the true reason for our behaviour he may forgive." This day week, then, Sibyl, my own?" "Yes, Stephen." He was gone. "I will keep him away for ever," murmured Sibyl, "for father's sake." There resided in Derbyshire a widowed sister of Dr. Franklin's late wife, Mrs. Croft by name, who upon hearing of Sibyl's ill- heaMh wrote requesting that Sibyl would consider her (Mrs. Croft's) place entirely at her disposal for a few months. The doctor was anxious that Sibyl should avail herself of the opportunity of recruiting her health, and it was arranged that she should start im- mediately, which she did. Next day Dr. Fraj&fe&s wrpte to Mrs. Croft. making a oro- I posal that Sibyl should remain with her for j twelve months. An answer received by re- j turn post stated that she would repiv de- finitely when the subject had been talked over with Sibyl upon that yonn^ lady's T" } know if Sibyl had not \(:i a wived. :ilie a,i- swer came, Has not yet arrived. Expect" two days ago. I "Is this God's cha»teaing haad o.n- claimed the doctor, while beads of perspira- tion stood upon his forehead.. j Thirty minutes later every means of com- munication were in motion, and at last, l11- quiries at the steamship offices elicited the information that Mr. and Mrs. Stephen Os- wald were passengers on board the steamer C-, bound for the Continent two days pre- viously. Dr. Franklin, as he sat locked in his study that evening, swore he would never forgive, Brain fever set in, and for months ° lie hovered between life and death. When at last he was convalescent, ten years seemed to have been added to his age. He never re- gained his normal health or activity, and was forced to relinquish his extensive" prac- tice. At the urgent appeal of Mrs. Croft, he went to reside in Deroyshire, wnere lie lived the life of a recluse. Thus five years passed, during which Dr. Franklin changed sadly. C, He became bent and feeble, his footsteps were uncertain, hj once bright keen eyes had lost their wonted sparkle and were now sullen and sunken. His head, covered with scanty, snow-white hair, shook as if palsy- stricken. fie never even mentioned Ins daughter's name. She had never written, and Dr. Frr.nklin was too proud to make in- quiries, thus her whereabouts remained un- known. Great was Mm Croft's excitement one morning upon receiving a letter signed Sibvl Oswald. 11 stated that Stephen li,d died from malarial fever, on the Gold Coast, wheie he had occupied a position on Her Majesty's railways. She herself had only recovered from the same dread fever, to be now an in- valid. For four years they had spent their annual leave in the South of France, not car- ing to return to England. The last wet season, however, killed Stephen, and Sibyl had now no means of support, and implored Mrs. Croft not to refuse her the shelter of her house for a few months until other ar- rangements were mode. She requested that her father be kept ignorant of her return. Mrs. Croft concealed the news and made every preparation possible to ensure Sibyl's welcome and subsequent comfort. Sibyl arrived garbed in a full length over- coat and dark veil. Mrs. Croft gave the traveller a warm em- brace and endeavoured to suppress her ularm, which great change she saw in jibyFs face engendered. How is fattIer;" "Changed, Sibyl. He is broken-hearted." "God help him, and forgive us both!" Mrs. Croft eyed the frail woman curiously as she removed the heavy coat. You have changed also," said Mrs. Croft. "I suppose so, I have suffered much. Does father know?" Not yet-how will you break the news to him?" He will never know But he must!" No—no, aunt. You do not understand." "He is certain to see you." "See me—how? While so many miles are between us?" "He has lived here these five years." Sibyl trembled in every limb. Go to bed now," continued Mrs. Croft, and she led Sibyl to her room. "I will bring you up some tea." » t "Who was that came up the drive a few minutes ago?" queried Dr. Franklin, when later oiq, Mrs. Croft rejoined him. A friend of mine. Why?" Do I know her," I think not." Dr. Franklin drew his hand wearily across his wrinkled forehead and relapsed into thought. Next day Mrs. Croft saw that Sibyl was in the last stages of rapid consumption. Her mother had been a victim of the same dis- ease. Ske was unable to leave her bedroom, and slowly sinking, reached that point when it became a matter of mere days for the struggle to cease for ever. Sibyl agreed when Mrs. Croft insisted upon bringing in a doctor. His services, however, were not required. Dr. Franklin,, on hearing that a medioal man was being requisitioned, determined to see the patient himself. In Mrs. Croft's ab- sence he sent word to the patient, by a maid, that the doctor was in waiting. Another minute and he was in his daughter's pre- sence. He advanced to the bedside, and their eyes met in mutual recognition. The doctor stepped back, both his fcands pressed to his head as if in pain. "Sibyl!" ha exclaimed, hoarsely. There was a momen tary silence. Sibyl was too weak to speak. Great God! My child is dying!" Don't fret over that, father," said Sibyl, faintly. It will be well when I am gone." "Where is your husband?" "Dead." "What—dead? and you Dyi.,ig, father." There was a perfect silence till Sibyl asked suddenly Where is the ruby?" "I destroyed it." "Father, you must have guessed why 1 went away?" Yes-well partly—but don't let us talk of that cursed stone. j I must. It has killed me. Why did you steal it?" "I did so unawares." The frail woman's head lay back, whit. and still, on the pillows, and "the eyes closed. Stephen—threatened—to—expose—you." No, no child. He meant about the body. I secretly secured Lawrence's body for post- I mortem purposes, and Oswald found out." I Worse still God only can forgive— you." Sibyl! In God's sight I swear I am inno- cent of the theft of the ruby." A faint smile pteyed around the dying woman's lips. "For your safety—father—I—I went." She lay motionless now, exhausted. Dr. Franklin held a wineglass half full of brandy to her pale lips. "Father—God—will—forgive." The words were scarcely audible. A tremor passed over the wasted form. Sibyl Oswald was no more. The doctor, only vaguely realising the change, con tin LIed excitedly "I found the ruby! do you hear? Lawrence had swallowed it. I took it from his body- j Merciful God! She is gone!" Frantically he seized her wrist and almost shouted in hia anguish. H Sibyl-hear me! Tell me that yoii under- stand-" Suddenly he released her wrist and crept rather than walked to the door. On the threshold he turned and faced the dead woman. But I can prove it. Yes! Lawrence will tell you so himself. Lawrence—aye—&dra man! Curse you; Why do you stand there and gape at me? Speak out and prove riv j innocence. Am I a thief?—No— Ha i Ha! His eyes glowed like live coals. His fingen. O-ue-lH :7\f"1 pIw1 :n'-f"-n1-f,1 r- TT:=- '"n- Dr. Masterton Franklin was a hopeless f T-T and room, laughing. weirdly and whiniugMike z whipped dog alternately, when Mrs. Croft found him in the presence of death, and led j him gently away. j