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T he Diamond Coterie

By LAWRENCE M. LYNCH (E. M. Van Deventer)

Author of “A Woman's Crime,” “Johan Arthur’s Ward,” “The Lost Witness,” “A Slender Clue,” “Dangerous Ground,” “ Against Odds,” Etc., Ete.

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(Continued)

CHAPTER XXXIV.

man in a dream, Frank La

call, never once

Like @ motte obews his father’s

thinks that the summons is strangely

worded. Over and over in his mind the | question is repeating fttself—What did | she mean? Was he going mad? Was he |

dreaming? Had Constance Wardour really said a word that rendered himeelf and all that household unsafe? If she knew who should stand in Clifford stead, would she really spare the culprit?

|

Heath's |

No; it was impossible. Was her talk bravado? was she seeking to deceive | him?

‘“Impossible,’’ he reasons, ‘‘If she knew |

who struck that blow, then I am utterly ruined. But she does not know—-she can not

Jasper Lamctt leads the way to the library. It seems natural that he should move softly, cautiously. A supernatural stillness pervades the lower floor. Frank Lamotte shudders and keeps his eyes turned away from the closed-up drawing room with its silent tenant.

When they are seated face to face, with locked door and closely drawn curtains, Frank looks across at his father, and notes for the first time that day the lines of care settling about the sallow mouth, apd underneath the dark, brooding eyes. A moment of silence rests between them while each reads the signs of disaster in the face of the other. Finally the elder gays, “ith something very like a sneof in his voice :—

» ‘“One would think you a model mourn- er, your visage is sufficiently woful”’ Then leaning across the table, and elevat- ing one long forefinger; ‘‘Something more than the simple fact of Burrill’s death has shaken you, Frank. What is it?”

.» Frank Lamotte utters a low mirthless laugh.

“I might say the same of you, sir; your present pallor can scarcely be attri- puted to grief.”’

“True;'’ a darker shadow falling acrosa bis countenance. ‘‘Nor is it grief. It is bitter disappointment. Haye you seen Miss Wardour?”

“*Yes;’’ averting his head.

“And your case in that quarter?’’

‘*Hopeless.’’

“What!”’ sharply.

‘Hopeless, I tell you, sir; do I look like a prosperous wooer? she will not Jook at me. She will not touch me at any price.’’

Jasper Lamotte mutters a curse. ‘‘Then you have been playing the poltroon,’’ he says savagely.

The countenance of the younger man grows livid. He starts up from his ohair, then sinks weakly back again.

“Drop the subject,’’ he says hoarsely. “That card is played, and lost. Is this ali you have to say?’’

‘All! I wish it were. What took me to the city?’’

“What took.you, true enough. The need of a few thousands, ready cash.”’

‘Yes. Well! I have not got the cash."’

‘‘But—good heavens! you had ample— ¥ecurities.’’

“Ample securities, yes,’ with a lw grating laugh. ‘‘Look, I don’t know who has interposed thus in our favor, but—if John Burrill were alive to-night you and I would be—beggars.’’

**Impossible, while you hold the valu- abte—"’

‘Bah! valuable indeed! you and I have been fooled, duped, deluded. Our treasured securities are—’’

‘*Well, are what?"

‘*Shams."'

‘*Shams!'’ incredulously. impossfble."’

“Is it? cynically. ‘‘Then the anpessible has come to pass. There's nothing genu- ine tn the whole lot."’

A long silence fails between J

Frank Lamotte sits staring straight bs. fore him; sudden conviction seems to have overtaken his panic-stricken senses. Jasper Lamotte drums upon the table im- patiently, looking moody and despon- dent.

“A variety of queer things may sean plain to you now,’’ he says finally. ‘Perhaps you realize the necessity for in- stant action of some sort.”’

Frank stirs restlessly, and passes his hand across his brows.

“IT ecan't realize anything fully,’’ he says, slowly. ‘It’s as well that Burrill did not live to know this.’’

‘Well! It’s providential! We should not

‘*But that is

them

have a chance; as it is, we have one. De you know where Burrill kept his papers?”’

“No.”

‘“Who removed his personal effects? Were you present?’

‘‘Asuredly. There were no papers of vaiue to us upon the body.’’

‘‘Well, those papers must be found. Once in our hands, we are safe enough for the present; but until we find them we are not so secure. However, I have no doubt but that they are secreted some- where about his room. Have you seen Belknap to-day?’

‘Only at the inquest. Curse that fe)- low; I wish we were rid of him entirely.”’

‘Tl wish we were rid of his claim; but it must Le paid somehow.”’

**Somehow !’’ echoing the word, mock- ingly.

‘That is the word I used. row the money.”’

“‘Imdeed! Of whom?’’

“Of Constance Wardour.”’

~woeer’

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I must bor-

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| stood in my way.’

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———

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because you have been discarded? ‘Why should I not borrow from this tricky young lady? Curse her!”

‘Well!’ rising slowly, “‘she is under your roof at this moment. Strike while the iron is hot. Have you anything more to say to-night?’

‘**‘XNo. You are too idiotic. Get some of the cobwebs out of your brain, and that scared look out of your face. One would think that you, and not Heath, were the murderer of Burrill.’’

A strange look darts from Frank Lamotte.

**It won't be so decided by a jury,’’ he says, between his shut teeth. ‘‘Curse Heath, he is the man who, all along, has

,

the eyes of

‘*Well, there's a strong likelihood that he will be removed from your path. There, go, and don’t look so abjectly

hopeless. We have nothing to do at pres- ent but to quiet Belknap. Good night.’’

With lagging steps, Frank Lamotte as- cends the stairs and enters his own room. . He lécks the door with a nervous hand, and then hurriedly lowers the curtains. He goes to the mirror, and gazes at his reflected self—hollow, burn-

ing eyes, haggard cheeks, blanched lips, | that twitch-convulsively, a mingled . ex- |

pression of desperation, horror, and

de- ,

spair—that is what he sees, and the sight |

does not serve to steady his nerves. He ‘rns away, with a curse upon the white lips.

Us filings himself down in a huge easy |

chair, and dropping his chin upon his breast, tries to think; but thought only deepens the despairing horror and fear upon his countenance.

Where his father !

sees one foe, Francis Lamotte sces tet. |

He sees before him Jerry Belknap, pri-

vate detective, angry, implacable, ma@nac- |

ing, not to be quieted. Heath, pale, stern, accusing. Constance Wardour, scornful, menacing, condsmning and consigning him to dreadful punish- ment. The dead face of John Burrill rises before him, jeering, jibing, odious, seem- jug to share with him some ugly secret. He passes bis hard across his brow, and starts up suddenly.

‘‘Bah! he mutters, ‘‘this is no time to Let every man look to himself. If I must play in my last trump, let me be pre- pared.’’

He takes from his pocket a bunch of keys, and, selecting ene of the smallest, unlocks a drawer of his dressing case. He draws forth a pair of pistols and exam- ines them carefully. Then he withdraws the charges from both weapons,and loads ene anew. ‘The latter he conceals about his person, and then takes up the other. He hesitates a moment, and then loads that also, replaces it in his hiding place, closes and locks the drawer. Then he breathes a long sigh of relief.

‘It’s a deadly anchor to windward,’’ he mutters, turning away. ‘‘It’sa last resort. Now I have only to wait.’’

CHAPTER XXXV.

While Frank Lamotte, in his own chamber, is preparing himself for emer- gencies, Constance Wardour stands by th: bedside of her unconscious friend, strug- gling for self control; shutting her lips firmly together, clenching her teeth; mastering her outward self, by the force of her strong will; and striving to bring the chaos of her mind into like subjec- tion. Three facts stare her in the face; three ideas dance through her brain and mingle themselves in a confused mass. Clifford Heath is in peril. She can save him by betraying a friend and a trust. She loves him.

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cms faca sT[Nncs out; nm this hear a peril the truth will not be frowned down.

She loves this man who stands accused of |

murder; she loves him, and, great heav- ens! he is innocent, and yet, must saffer for the guilty.

What can-she do? What must she do? She can not go to him; she, |y her own act, has cut-off all (riendly intercourse between them. But, something must be done, shall be done.

Suddenly she bends down, and looks long and earnestly into the face of the sleeper. The dark lashes rest upon cheeks that are ;ale as ivory; the face looks tor- ture-stricken; the beautiful lips quiver with the pain of some dismal dream.

Jnvoluntarily, this cry escapes the lips of the watcher :—

‘*My God! To think that two noble lives must be blasted, because of that pitiful worthless thing, that lies below.’’

The moments drag on_ heavily, thoughts gradually shaping themselves into a resolve, while she watches by the bedside and waits the returnof Mrs. La- motte. At last, she comes, and there is an added shade of serrow in her dark eyes; Evan is very ill, she fears for his reason, too.

‘*What has come upon my children, Constance?’’ she asks, brokenly; ‘‘even Frank ‘has changed for the worse.’’

‘Poor Evan,”’ sighs Constance, think- ing of his Joyal love for Sybil; and thus with her new resolve strong in her mind, she says, briefly :—

‘‘I must go to town at once, Mrs. La- motte, and will return as soon as possi- ble. Can you spare me without too much weight upon yourscelf.’’

Without a question, Mrs. Lamotte bids

her go; and very soon she is driving swiftiy *oward W—, behind the splendid Lemotte horsés.

Straight to Lawyer O'Meara she is whirled, and by the time ¢he reaches the gate, she is as calm as an iceberx.

Coming down the steps is a familiar form, that of her aunt, Mrs. Aliston. Exch ledy seen:s a trifle disconcerted by this unexpeeted meeting; neither is in- clined to explain her presence there.

Mrs. Aliston appears the more disturbed and startled of the two; she starts and flushes, guiltily, at sight of her niece.

But, Constance is intent upon her errand; she pauses long enough to in- quire after her aunt’s health, to report that Sybil is much the same, and Evan ill, and then she says :—

“Is Mr. O’Meara at home, Aunt Honor?”’

‘‘Yes. That is, I believe so,’’ stammers Mrs, Aliston.

“Then I niust not detain you, or delay myself; good morning, auntie;’’ and she enters the house, leaying Mrs. Aliston looking perplexed and troubled. :

Ushered into the presenee of Mr. O'Meara, Consiance wastes no words.

‘‘Mr. O’Meara,’’she begins in her most straightforward manner, “I have just come from Mapleton, where I have been with Sybil since last night. This morning Doctor Benoit herrified me by telling me that Doctor Heath has been arrested for the murder of John Burrill.”

Just here the study door opens softly, and a portly, pleasant faced gentleman enters. He bows with easy self-possession, and turns expectantly toward O’Meara. ‘That gentleman performed the ceremony of introduction.

‘‘Miss Wardour, permit me: Mr. a— Wedron, of the New York Bar. Mr. Wed- ron, my dear, is here in the interest of Doctor Heath.’’

A pair of searching gray eyes are turned full upon the stranger, who bears the scrutiny with infinite composure. She bows gravely, and then seats herself op- posite the two gentlemen.

‘“Mr. O’Meara,’’ she says, imperiously, “T want to hear the full particulars of this affair, from the very first, up to the present moment.’’

The two professional men exchange glances. Then Mr. Wedron interposes: ‘‘Miss Wardour,”’ he says, slowly, ‘‘we are acting for Clifford Heath, in this matter, therefore, I must ask, do yon come as a friend of the accused, or—to offer testimony?’

Again the gray eyes flash upon him. “I come as a friend of Doctor Heath,” she says, haughtily; ‘and I ask only what is known to all W—-» I suppose.’’

Mr. Wedron conceals a smile of satis- faction behind a smooth white hand; then he draws a bundle of papers from his pocket.

‘‘C’Meara,”’ he says, passing them to his colleague; ‘‘here are the items of the case, as we summed them up last even-

ing; please read them to Miss Wardour.”’ And he favors the little lawyer, with a swift, but significant glance.

Drawing his chair a little mearer that of his visitor, O’Meara begins, while the portly gentleman sits in the background expression

(a *

and notes, lynx-like, every

that flits across the face of the listening girl.

’ O'Meara reads on and on. The sum-

ming up is very comprehensive. From the fist discovery of the body, to the last item of testimony before the coroner's jury; and after that, the strangeness, the apathy, the obstinacy of the accused, and his utter refusal to add his testimony, or to accuse any other.. Utter silence falls upon them as the reading ceases

Constance sits mute and pale as a statue; Mr. Wedron seems quite self- absorbed, and Mr. O'Meara, glances

around neryously, as if waiting for a cue.

Constance turns her head slowly, and looks from one to the other.

‘‘Mr. O'Meara. Mr. Wedron, you are to defend Doctor Heath,you tell me?’’ They both ned assent.

“And — have you, as his counsel, gathered no palliating proof? Nothing to set against this mass of blighting circum- ctuntial evidence?’’

(To be Continued, )

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X Mi\>©k, CHARLOTTTWN, JUNE 5, 1897

A Story of the Petersburg Mine.

General Horace Porter tells the fol- lowing anecdote of the explosion of the Petersburg mine in his ‘‘Campaigning With Grant,’’ in The Century: A sur- geon told us a story, one of the many echoes of the mine affair, about a pris- oner who had been dug out of the crater and carried to one of our field hospitals. Although his eyes were bunged and his face covered with bruises, he was in an astonishingly amiable frame of mind and looked like a pugilistic hero of the | prize ring coming up smiling in the twenty-seventh round. He said: “I'll jest bet you that after this I'll be the most unpopular man in my regiment. You see, I appeared to get started a lit- tle earlier than the other boys that had taken passage with me aboard that vol- cano, and as I was comin down I met the rest of ‘em a-goin up, and they looked as if they had kind o’ soured on me and yelled after me, ‘Straggle!’ ’”’

Only the Young Dance.

The maidens who are elbowed out of all pleasure at dances by young matrons will approve of the oustom which ob- tains at the court of Berlin, where the emperor and empress set the fashion of only looking on. Elderly ladies do not dance at all and young married ladies very rarely. The floor is only meant for young people of both sexes.

An expert tells of an instance where 4,000 pearl shells were taken which yielded less than $50 worth of pearls, while in the same locality over 380 pearls were found in one day, one of which was sold for $10,000. A Queens- land company, on a small area, got $6,- 000 worth of pearls from eight tons of shell.

aA : + Me

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Mr. F. C. Nicholas recently described the goldfields of western Colombia for the geological section of the New York Academy of Sciences, and incidentally pointed out a route by which, in the wet season, a man might go in a canoe from the Atlantic to the Pacific across the northwestern corner of South Amer- ica. The proposed route follows the riyer Atrato to the divide; which lies in a se- ries of swamps, and then, by way of one or two smailer streams, reaches the river San Juan, which empties into the Pacific. '

Inoculation of land with microbes instead of expending money on fertil- izers is the latest idea which seience has placed at the service of the British

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Sterling ‘Certificates issued.

FRED. W. HYNDMAN

Ps. Island Railway.

During the months of June, Jaly August and September, 1897, return tickets will be issued at one first ciass fare from all Booking Stations to all stations on this Railway every Satur- day good for return on following Mon- ‘Lhese tickets will not be good

General Manager Gov't Failways Noncton, N. Bb.

Queen Street

Marine Insurance.

=) AGENT

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HORACE HASZARD.

Cu’town, 17th May, 1 mo. 135.

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