Welsh Newspapers

Search 15 million Welsh newspaper articles

Hide Articles List

13 articles on this Page

"THE TEMPLE OF LIES."

News
Cite
Share

"THE TEMPLE OF LIES." By J. B. HARRIS-BURLAND. I Author of "Gabriel Janthry," "The Broken Law," "The Guardian of HL3 I Hofiour," "The Splendid Felon,&c., &c. I I I "CHAPTER I. "Well, Jones, what do you think of the place? You've been up here before, of oourse?" "Yes, one.e," the doctor replied grimly. "On o of my patients died here." Emrys Morgan shrugged his shouklers and laughed. He was lean and thin-chested, with 10110w cheeks and unnaturally brilliant eyes. His bearded face was tanned by wind and Bun, and his hands rough with toil. Yet, for all these .gn9 of a hard life lived in the open air, it was evident to the most casual observer that this man had been a dweller in cities for the best part of his life. "A glorious view, isn't it?" he said, after a pause. Dr. David Jones made no reply. He was etanding by the window of the 3 mall cottage, and he saw the driving snow -weep across the landscape, blotting out white Peaks and valleys, and hiding the black crags of Moel Cethin from his si;ht. A few moments ago the view had been on.e of the :finest in the world. Now it was nothing but a stormy sea of snowflakes, writhing a fid whirling in their countless millions. Healthy, too, continued Morgan, who was sitting on a plain wooden chair clcse to the fire, "for those who want health." "It's come on to snow again," said the doctor thoughtfully. I shall have to be making my way back to Trethol." You'd better wait till the morning, Jones. It will be dark in half an hour." "No, J must goo at once. I might be snowed up here for days." "You won't hurt," said Morgan with a smile. "The place is provisioned for a fort- night. I was warned about that when I came here There's a g-cod supply of water." "I must go," the doctor insisted quietly. "I've only half-a-dozen, patients, and I might lose them if I were absent for a day or two." "A, things are bad with you in Trethol?" "As bad as can be, Morgan. I don't earn the wages of a labourer. You've only to look at me and see that things a,re bad. Emrys Morgan looked at the sallow, clean- shaven face,, and the meagre little body, with its worn, but well-brushed clothes. Then he laughed. "We're birds of a feather," he said, "I'm wasted with disease, and you with the lack -).f it-in other folk. These Welsh are so infernally healthy. aren't they?" The doctor did not smile, and began to pat on a heavy overcoat, which had once been black. bn.t was now green with age, Then he looked once more out of the window. The snow was now falling so thickly that he could not see more than a couple of yards in artll direction. It was growing dark, too, with the shadows of approaching night. ¡(You'd better stay," said Morgan, inter- nupting the doctor's thoughts. "You'll never Teach Trethol alive—think of it, man-six miles, and the pathways blotted out. And the c<>ld! We're two thousand feet above the s-ea level here, and the. wind goes through one like a knife. We'll heap coal on the fire, and laugh at the storm. I'd be glad of a companion, and——" here he lowered his voice and leant forward with an eager look in his eyes, "and I'd like a talk with you. I've an idea, and there's money in it-for you. "Money, eh? I couid do with some Of that. I've never had a chance, but if I could buy a. decent practice "Yes, money," said Morgan, clasping his thin hands and st.a.ring at the fire. "For you, but not for me, Jones. A dying man j 'has no use for money." "Dying? Nonsense! You have years before! you yet. If you talk like that, I shall have j to stay. You're not fit to be left a ne I want you to stay. I will make it worth your while. Take off that coat, my dear fellow. If you go out in it, it'll be your j shroud." Dr. Jones took off the coat, flung it over the back of a chair, and seating himself by the fire, held out his hands to the blaze. It's cold over there by the window," he said, but this is a snug little room, and the walls are thick." Emrys Morgan was silent. Outside the wind toated overhead through the gathering dark- ness. But the fire blazed cheerfully in the grate, and though the room was poorly fur- j nished, and the only covering on the stone floor was a rug made of cocoa-nut matting, j the wild storm outside gave everything an air of comfort that it would not have pos- sessed on a wafm summer's day. Dr. JOLes filled his pipe with the last few rrumbs of tobacco in his pouch, and lit a match. His companion watched him with half-closed eyes. For more than a minute neither of the two men spoke. "Well?" queried the doctor sharply, M the fctcwling of the wind in the chimney began to prey on his nerves. "You had some echerne to propound? You spoke of money?" Yes," Morgan afiswered, stroking his nmkempt brown beard. "But let us start from the beginning. I'ye known you for a year, Jones; ever since I've been in this place. I daresay you've often wondered who I am, and why l' am here." "You are in consumption," the doctor replied. "You need a life in the open air, and at a high altitude. That is why you a.re here. You are Emrys Morgan, a rioh man W ,? r a n, a rich man who has lost all his money. I believe you are a bankrupt. That is 13.11 I know about I you. "You shall know more," said Morg-in slowly. "1 will explain my position to you. L want to drive certain facts into your head. Please take careful note of every one of them. In the first place, I have two, or at the most three, years of life before me." I don't admit that as 3. fact—oh, I know what Sir Henry said v hen he examined you. Bat these j-pecialis^s are often mistaken. Their brains are so full of special knowledge that they think the worst of every case that Is brought to them." "I have c t most three years to live," Mot- Can repeated. "Sir Henry is not the sort of man to make a mistake, and he is, as a rule, merciful in his verdicts. That is thi? j first fact. The second is that I am insured for £ 10,000. The next premium Ls due in two months' time. The last was paid by my mother-at enormous sacrifice to herself, She cannot find the money to pay another. Have" you got that quite clearly in your head ?" The doctor nodded. You can raise money en the policy," he said after a pause. Money has already been raised on its ■orrender value—before the crash came. The wirrender value is not more than half what will be paid if I die. You see, I am still a young man." As he spoke the last words he covered his face with his hands, as if to shut out some horrible sight from his eyes. For a few minutes there was no sound but the roaring of the wind in the chimney and the loud ticking of a cheap American clock on the mantelpiece. The doctor shivered slightly, as though some cold blaft of air had pierced the thick walls of the cottage and swept through the room. Then suddenly Morgan laughed and raised hie head. "I beg your pardon," he said. "I forgot that I was stating a case for your considera- tion. I must try not to think of myself in this matter. Now, the third fact is this, Jones. My mother is in immediate want of a considerable sum of money. I need next go Into the details, but you can take it from me that if she does not have this money in the next six months she will be tui-ned out of her humble home, and be forced to seek refuge in the workhouse. She is 59 years of age an4 a confirmed invalid. Her little bit of money werat in the smash—in an effort to esve me. Are all these facts quite clear to you, Jones?" Quite," the doctor answered mechanically. Then he struck a match and re-lit his pipe, which had gone out. "Why. are you telliug me all this?" he asked after a pause. Because I want. your help. My mother must be saved, at a.ny cost. She must have this money, and I must find it for her." She will have it in a few years," said the doctor, slowly. "At least, that it what you believe." "It will be no use in a fe,w years' time. The shock and disgrace will kill her. I must have the money now. and there is only one way to get it." The dodc.r' tct', closed hard on the stem cf his pipe, and broke tho vulcanise. He knew wh".t was ccming. Emrys Morgan rose to his feet, and towered cvsr him, gaunt, thin, and haggard—a veritable scarecrow cf a. man—something that seemed to stand on tho threshold of another world. "Thre is only way to get it," Morgan You must give a certificate of my death." repeated in a harsh voice. "I must die." Suicide will invalidate the policy," eaid the doctor, coldly, pretending not to under- j stand. You must give a certificate of my death," Morg-an continued. I will die here to-night. We are cut off from the world for a day or two. perhaps for a week." Dr. Jones's lip-s tightened. He still pro- fessed not to understand. If you were to spend the night in the snow," he said, after a pause, "you would certainly be dead in twenty-four hours. But I should feel it my duty to prevent you from doing so." Are you a fool?" shou ted Morg-an, hoarsely. If I had wanted to do that, do you think I should have needed your help? I have offl, y three years of life, but I must live—every hour of them. Good Gcd, man, do you think I haven't tried to make up my mind to do that." And you are afraid?" Yes, I'm a coward, if you like to call me one. Life is very precious, when one has only three years of it left." "Car¡. you spare me some tobacco?" said Jones quietly. I've run out of it." The request was intended to check Morgan in his wildness of speech, to bring matters down to the level of common sense. But Morgan disregarded it. If you'll do what I ask," he continued. I'll see that you get a thousand pounds. You can buy a fairly decent practice with that—t-omething that, you can work up, any- way. I want you to give a certificate of death. You can put anything in the coffin you like. The trick has been played before, and will continue to be played so long as doctors have such absolute power placed in their hands. The details will want thinking out- that is all." "That is not all," said the doctor, coldly. "It is not altogether a question of being found out." "You're thinking of the morality of the thing. Well, what is the fraud, after all? The insurance company will have to pay up the money in three years time. I'm robbing them of two of their premiums. On the other hand, I am saving my mother, to whom I owe a great deal, from disgrace and death." "And your death will give her no paip. sneered the doctor. "She knows that I have to die. She will be spared the agony of waiting." "And is there no one else?" Jones asked after a long silence. "There is no one else," Morgan replied bitterly. "My sif-er cares little for me. The II woman I love-ell, she has been forced to give me up because I know that it would be a crime for her to marry a consumptive. There is everything to be gained and nothing to be lost." "Save honour," said the doctor in a low voice. "There is much to be weighed against that mere shibboleth of a word," cried Morgan, and then he began to plead, and slowly, inch by inch, he drove back the doctor to the latter's last line of defence. In ten minutes the battle was won. "You hava bought me," said Dr. Jones as he stood by the window and stared out into the darkness. "You have not persuaded me that you are right." Emrys Morgan crouched over the fire and coughed. He was utterly exhausted, a.nd his flushed face and shaking hands bore witness to the severity of the contest in which he had triumphed. "I doubt if we can carry the fraud through," continued the doctor, "but if we do, I don't see how I am going to get the money. And mark you, as far as I am concerned, the n.oney is the only thing that matters." Emrys Morgan turned his haggard face from the lire, and the light of tie candle showed his bloodshot eyes and the smile on his lips. "I've sett-led that," he gasped. "I made my will a week ago. I provided for you. I thought tliat, perhaps, I might persuade you." "Show me the will," said Jones silowly. Morgan rose to his feet, went to a cheat of drawers, and returned with a long enve- lope in his shaking ba,nds. "There it is," he said, and he repeated him- self in his C'hr, and leant back with closed eyes. Dr. Jones read the will, noted that it was duly signed and witnessed, and placed it in his pocket. "I will keep it, if you don't mind," he said. "Certainly," Morgan replied with a ghastly smile "Now as to the details." The two men sat far into the night, their chairs drawn close to the fire for warmth. And outside the thick walls the gale swept across the peaks and crags of the mountain range, piling up a great barrier of snow between the cottage and the town in the valley beneath. I CHAPTER U. I In a deep, wide armeJiair, set with it3 back ¡ to the window, an elderly woman slept peace- f fully. At her feet lay a large black cat 1strtebed at full length on the beartbruc. 1 On the oth?r lid. of the RMpiMe & SW iMrat- forward, holding a book so as to catch the fading light of a winter afternoon. There could be no doubt about the relation- ship of the two women, for the younger was absurdly like what the elder must have been. The features were the same—clear cut, deli- cate, with a short upper lip, eyes set rather wide apart, a hand-some curved mouth, a straight thin nose. The black ha.ir had changed to iron grey, and* the soft colour of youth had faded and the smooth skin was seamed and wrinkled by sorrow and sickness and age. But Mrs. Morgan was still a good- looking woman, who looked her best wnen her eyes were closed in sleep. The girl had been reading aloud to her mother, and when she saw that the latter was asleep, she continued to read to herself. Then as the light grew too bad, she rose to her feet, laid the bock on the table, and walked across the little room to the window. Outside, in a mean street cf Cardiff, the road lay white and silent under the mantle of snow. For five days it had been snowing, and all the efforts of the sweepers and shovellers had failed to keep pace with the fall. Now, at las-t, the snow had ceased, and the wind had died away. There was no stream of traffic to melt the whiteness into slush, no steady tramp of fe.8t to smirch the spotless pavements. Penpompren-road looked almost beautiful in the twilight. But the girl frowned as she gazed at the silent scene. Then, as though the very silence was odious to her, she returned to the fireplace, seized the poker, and plunged it among the coals. The cat sprang to its feet and arched its back, and Mrs. Morgan opened her eyes. Gwladys, my dear," she said, plaintively. I wish you wouldn't frighten me like that." You don't want the room to get cold do you?" the girl answered petulantly. "The fire was going out." You might be more gentle, dear. What time'is it?" "Half-past four. Shall I get some tea?" "-No, dear, not yet. I was wondering if the post had come." I am sure I don't want it to come. It brings nothing but unpleasant news." Gwladys, dear," faltered Mrs. Morgan. I oan't help being anxious about poor Emrys. We generally hear from him by this post. I can't bear to think of him being up there in the mountains in this terrible weather." Oh, I expect he's snug enough," the giri replied, carelessly. He wrote and told you he expected to be snowed up before the winter was over; that he had laid in a large stock of provisions—I'm sure you needn't worry about him, mother." But if he were ill, Gwladys—aLl alone there in that desolate cottage," and Mrs. Morgan began to cry softly, like one who is too tired to give way to any strong emotions. Gwladys .Morgan lit a small oil lamp and drew down the blinds. I'll get your tea," she said, briskly. "You always feel better after your tea, don't you?" A knock rattled on the hall door, and the light of hope leapt into the mother's eyes. She leant forward in her chair, holding on to the arms with trembling hands. "Quick, Gwladys dear," she cried; "it's the post." The girl left the room, and, after a brief conversation at the hall door, returned with a stranger. Mr. Edmunds, mother," she said, hur- ,riedly, a solicitor from London. He wants to see Emrys." Mrs. Morgan frowned at the new-comer through her glasses; then she inclined her head. Edmunds, a short, thin man, with grey side whiskers, bowed. "My son is not here," said the old woman. He is at present in Cardiganshire." Ah, that is unfortunate," Mr. Edmunds replied, but still-you are Mrs. Morgan, are you not, widow of the late William Morgan, I of Penybont?" "That was my husband's name." Well, I have come to you with good news, madam. I suppose you did not kno, the late Richard Morgan, of the Plas Brynboul, in Cardiganshire?" No, I have never heard of him." "He was a distant cousin of your hus- band's, and he died on Wednesday. He has left real estate of the estimated value of £ 500,000. It is entailed, and will pass to the I next of kin." "To whom?" Gwriadys cried eagerly, "To whom ?" "To Mr. Emrys Morgan, if he wa-s alive at the time of Richard. Morgan's death; if he was not, "Alive!" exclaimed Mrs. Morgan, "of course, he is alive." "I am glad to hear it, madam," the soli- citor replied. I congratulate you all on this stiddan—er—stroke of good fortune. I have hea-rd bad accounts of your son's health, mada-m -that is why—I trust I have not pained you." "Three hundred thousand pounds!" cried Gwladys. "Three hundred thousand pounds!" There was a double knock on the hall door, and an eager look came again into Mrs. Mor- gan's eyes. Gwladys left the room, looked in the letter-box, and, finding nothing there, opened the door. A boy handed her a tele- gram addressed to "Miss Gwladys Morgan." She tore it open, read the contents, and gripped the edge of the door for support. For the moment everything swam in a grey mist. Then she controlled herself with a supreme effort of will. "There is no answer," she said, faintly, no answer." She closed the door with a crash, and, leaning against it, stared at the telegram from Trethol. "Your poor brother died on Tuesday," the message ran. "Should have sent news before, but have been snowed up in the hills. Please come at once. David Jones, doctor." She stood there motionless, white faced, and gasping for breath. Tuesday, Tuesday, Tuesday!" clangld and echoed in her ears. Bichard Morgan, the wealthy landowner, had died on Wednesday For second big instalment of this stirring story see Evening Express" on Monday. Thereafter the serial will appear every day in the Evening Express.

Advertising

CONTESTS FOR 74 SEATS I -I

The Elections.I

Advertising

[No title]

For Women Folk. I

LOCAL TIDE TABLE I

I Billiards

Passing Pleasantries.

LADIES 1st. : GROOMS 2nd.

Advertising

The Elections.I