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Author of “A Womnn’s Crime,” Witness,”

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The Diamond Coterie *

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

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(Continued )

CHAPTER VIL.

Constance Wardour arose early on Sun- gay morning. In spite of youth, health, and her splendid self-poise, she had slept pat little; such slumber as had sisited her eyelids, had been haunted by hideous dreams, in which detectives and bh mixed their identity in the most remarkable manner; end through alj, more vivid than ali, shone the face of Sybil Lamotte, always agonized, always . ing, always surrounded by dark shadows, and always seeming menaced, terrified, helpless. Such nights of tor- mented s'umber, and uneasy wakeful- ness, were new to the mistress of War- dour; and now, while the dew was yet on the grass and flowers, she was prom- enading her pretty rose garden, where the sun shone full, looking a trifle paler than was usual to her,and somewhat dis- satisfied. Mrs. Aliston was still snugly ensconsed in her bed, for she never rove early, and s retired late, her motto being, “Mrs. Aliston first, the world after- ward.” That lady of portly dimensions had her peculiar theory of life. To eat the best food obtainable, and a great deal of it; to wear the heaviest silks, and the softest cashmeres; and to sleep in the downiest of beds; these were to

and

od was provided from the larder of her niece; that the silks and cashmere were gracious gifts, and that the downy couch cost her nothing, mattered little; her niece needed her, she needed her niece; ergo, her niece sought in every way pos- sible to render her happy and comfort- able; and she, in return for her comfort and happiness, was a model duenna; never questioning, never criticising, humoring all that young lady’s whims, yet retaining that free, hearty out-spoken- ness, that made her seem not in the least a dependent, and which was, as Mrs. Aliston well knew, most pleasing to the heiress.

Altogether, they were a pair of very sensible women. Mrs. Aliston ate when she liked, and slept when she liked;

Miss Wardour did what liked, and both were satisfied.

While Miss Wardour was promenading her garden, and Mrs. <.ii-t mn Was com- fortably sleeping, two men were ap- proaching each o.neor on the sandy road thatran from tis town past Wardou-:

she

The one comirg from townward wus our detective tramp, looking all that a tramp should be.

The other, approaching from the op- posite direction, was a sleek, respectable looking, middle-aged man, who might have been some small farmer dressed in his Sunday clothes, which fitted him none too well.

Almost opposite the gates of Wardour Place they met and passed each other, the tramp saluting respectfully, the other respording with a stolid stare.

A little further on the tramp turned slowly and looked back. The farmer-

looking individual had entered the grounds of Wardour Place, and was

hurrying straight on toward the entrance, locking neither to the right nor left.

“Sol? muttered the tramp, with the

air of a man who would have been aston- ished then, but for the fact that he never allowed anything to astonish him. ‘So he is mixing himself up in this ‘fair! I wonder in what capacity? Can it be that by some means he has been felected to work up this case? Oh! oh! Bless my soul! What a coinciden*e that would be!’ Evidently he had grasped at a new idea, and one that was somewhat startl- ing. He quickened his pace until, uncon ‘clously, it became almost a trot. The mask of studied vacancy dropped from his face, leaving it alert, keen, analyti- ‘al. His mind had grasped at a problem, and he was studying it with knitted brow amd compressed mouth, as he hurried ‘Rcountryward, not heeding anything ‘ave the thought which possessed him.

It was Sunday morning, too early for church goers, and too late for cow boys. So he met no one on his hurried march, and when at last he began to moderate his pace, he was a full mile from War- dour Place. As his walk grew slower his

relaxed, and gradually resumed its mask of careless stupidity.

Finally he paused, looked about him,

ughed a short half langh, and crossing

road, vaulted a high-wired fence, ‘vag the ease of a harlequin, and took

IS Way across a meadow toward the river.

“Trd-la, tra-la-la-la-la,”’ Softly and contentedly. ‘What a pretty kettle of fish. How I should love to sit vOwn right beside it and see it boil. stir % occasionally; instead, I must go far Sway, and meantime, who knows, the

| kettle may boil over. But I hope not—I

chirped he,

fust not. I will try and prevent it; and, 6 do that, 1 must drop a little shell ; before | go. I must bind Miss Wardour

} j Over to my aid. I must show her that it | — to trust me. I must have e con- = nte here, and there are only two to Choose from. Doctor Heath, ‘from no- — and this: clear-eyed lady. 1] = = mer; for, with all due regard for 2 iend, the doctor, and all due faith ue propriety of his motives, I must Zo, way be throws that bit of cireum- os evidence in my way, before I Dost an any Part of my hand. Why ean matey is here, is none of my busi- icine as his presence and present nm seem tome. Why he is mix-

ing himea ; © himself up in the affair of Miss War

res

quars diamonas, nowever, 18 my busi- ness, just now. But, first of all, to know how much or little Jerry Belknap knows of this affair, and of these people, and whether he is at his old crookedness once more. Now, here is theswiver; here the footpath. I must see the laipaatio a War- dour Place, and at once; so, en ‘avant.’’

And he struck into the river footpath, and strode rapidly along toward Wardour Place, whistling softly as he went. Mean-

time, Constance Wardour, pacing the walks of her garden, with her brows wrinkled into a frown, was interrupted

by her housemaid.

‘If you please, miss, there’s a man in the front hall, that’s wanting to see you, and says Il am to tell you it’s important that his business is.’

Constance made a impatience; she had been thinking of Sybil Lamotte, to the exclusion of all other subjects, and this message brought her suddenly back to her own affairs.

‘‘Important!’’ she muttered to herself. ‘Then it must be—the other one. Nelly,’’

slight gesture of

raising her voice, ‘‘what is this man like?’’

tows ee 2 a

Like, miss?’’ inquiringly.

“Yes. How does he look?’’

“Oh! Well, it’s very ugly he looks, to my notion.”’

‘*Does he look

like a gentleman,

ner the necessities of jire, That the | Nelly?”

“Oh murther! ne.’ _

‘‘Like a tramp, then?’”

‘“‘No; his clothes is too new.”’

‘‘Well, Nelly, I will go and see him,’’ said Constance, beginning to despair of finding out whether this visitor were the tramp of the night previous, or the new actor expected on the scene. ‘‘ You know I never allow you to turn a tramp away hungry, and if one comes who seems worthy of help, I wish you always to let me know it.’’

This she said, thinking of the manner in which it was probable the detective tramp would seek access to her presence.

‘‘By the way, Nelly,”’ pausing with one foot on the steps of the dining-room terrace. ‘‘You may wake Mrs. Aliston and tell her that if I wish her to join me in the little parlor I will send you to her,’’ then sotto voce, as she entered the house and went carelessly toward the drawing-room: ‘‘If this visitor proves a bore I will turn him over to Aunt Honor; I can't have two days of constant bore- dom.”’

Coming forward from the lower en- trance, Constance encountered the gaze of the strange man, whom, arriving at the front door, Nelly had not ventured to set down as a tramp, and whose clothes made her doubt the propriety of showing him the drawing-room. Being of Hibern- ian extraction, and not to be nonplussed, Nelly had adapted a happy medium, and seated the visitor in the largest hall chair, where he now avarited the approach of Constance.

‘“*T think you wished to see me,’’ said Constance, in the unaffected kindly tone usual to her when addressing strangers or inferiors, ‘‘I am Miss Wardour.’’ j

The stranger arose, aking a stiff sal- ute, and saying in a low, guarded tone :—

**¥Yes, Miss Wardour, I have a message for you;”’ at the same moment he pre- sented her « card, and glanced in a sug- gestive manner toward Nelly, who was traveling up the stairs in very leisurely manner cn route for Mrs. Aliston’s rooms.

Constance glanced at the bore the inscription,

“JERRY BELKNAP, Private Detective.’’

ecard which

enue 9) al Vay, Sic

throwing preced-

Come t) is said, yuan the Gaw.ug-room door and ii. .silsh ILIO Gr.t tp rUtmeont

bcinMap, plivat: detective, fol- Glo-e Leand ner, and = himselt Closed cour careiully. Constance Crossed tac room, drew. back the cur- taims, and pushed open the shutters of tis: werrace Windows, thus letting ina nocd ef iight. hen turning, she seated herself upon a fauteull, and, motioning the ceteetive to a cha:r opposite, said :—

Now, gic, L am reudy to receive your mesriugve.’’ .

‘*Its a verbal one,

ACY ‘ towed

Ci

*’ rpoturned the detec- tive, ii. a voice soft antl smooth, not at all in keeping with his disguis:, ‘‘and from Mr. Limotte I am the officer chosen by him to investigate for you, Miss Wardour, and as much time has Leen lost, I only wait your sanction and acce} ti nee to begin the work.”’

The soft voice and polished accent

were in very marked contrast to his dress aid facial appearance. His manner of votish discomfort bad been dropped when the door closed upon outside obser- vation. - Mentally contrasting the ease and suavity of this new comer with the cat- like movements and brusqueness of his predecessor, Constamce, who began to realize the ludicrousness of the situation, in fact seemed to have some special pri- vate reason for finding it exceedingly absurd, replied that Mr. Lamotte’s chosen officer must of course be acceptable to her, and that she only awaited his commands, if she could be of any service to him.

“Then,’’ said Detective Belknap, ‘‘I may as well look over the premises, un- less,’’ turning upon her a searching look, ‘there are particulars concerning the robbery which Mr. Lamotte was not in possession of.’’

Constance lowered her eyes, in seeming effort to remember if Mr. Lamotte knew absolutely all; she thought of the chloro- form, but the bottle had not ret been

returned to her. W iiat should she Go?

Before telling this part of the story she |

must have the bottle. Suddenly her woman’s wit came to her aid. Looking up With sweetest cai into the detec- tive’s face, she said :—

‘Tam the only one who possesses any information that was known to Mr. La motte. It is a mere trifle, but as it will take some time in the telling, I will, if you please, order breakfast. You can

scarcely have breakfasted at this hour. I will show you the library now. Will you look over that and ihe other rooms, and kindly excuse me for a short time. join me at breakfast, and I will give you my version of the &tory.”’

She arose as if considering the matter decided beyond question, and moved to- ward the coor, and with a bow and mur- mur of assent, Mr. Jerry Belknap fell into his assumed shamble, and followed

her to the library. Leaving him there, | Constance went out to order breakfast

served in half an hour, and to send Nelly with the key to her dressing room.

‘*Nelly must be taken into my confid- ence,’’ mused she, as she went in search of that damsel. ‘‘I can trust Nelly in |

spite of her Irishries, and tf Doctor Heath coes not appear soon she must, help me out in some way.”’

Nelly was not at her post, having been dispatched kitchenward by Mrs. Aliston, and Constance went up to her own rooms, thinking, as to defer a further Belknap.

interview with Mr.

‘“‘I must take him the key myself,’ she muttered, as she moved about the dressing room, and then a_ sudden thought came, and she moved quickly to an open wardrobe, pulled down the '

dress she had worn on the previous after- nocn, and searched hurriedly in the poc- keis.

All at once a look of dismay overspread her features, again and again she shook out the silken folds, again thrust her hands in the dainty pockets, and fluttered her fingers among the intricacies of the trimming. The thing she searched for Was gone. Sybil Lamotte’s strane letter, the letter that was a trust not to be violated, was not to be found..

Thoroughly distressed now, Constance renewed her search—about the room— everywhere — in the most impossible places; but no letter.

Down stairs she went; and hop>less as was the chance of finding it there, hunt- ed in the drawing room and on the ter- race,

She distinctly remembered placing it in her pocket, after receiving it back from the hands of Doctor Heath; of be- stowing it very carefully, too.

Who had been in the drawing room since Doctor Heath? Mrs. Aliston; the two detectives; herself. Who had seen her put the letter in her pocket? Only Doctor Heath. Could it have dropped from her pocket? That seemed impossible. Could he have removed it? That seemed im- possible, too, and very absurd. But what could she think, else? Then, she remem- bered what he had said to the detective the night before, and all the mystery sur- rounding his past. Hitherto, she had scoffed at the prying ones, and advocated his perfect right to his own past and future, too. Now, she felt her ignorance of aught concerning the life of Dootor Clifford Heath, to be a deep personal in- jury. Hitherto, she had reasoned that his past was something very simple, a commonplace of study, perhaps, and self- building for she, being an admirer of self-made men, had chosef¥ to believe him one of them. Now, she bounded straight to the conclusion that Doctor Heath had a past—to conceal and then she found herself growing very angry, with him first, and herself afterward.

Why had he not presented his passports before seeking her favor? How had he dared to make himself so much at home in her drawing room, with his impertin- ent insouciance and his Sultan airs? How had he gone about, indifferent, independ- ent, ignoring when he pleased, courting no one’s favor, and yet, be—nobody knew who.

And what a fool she had been, trust- ing him with her personal secrets; put- ting her private letters into his hands. How he must be laughing at her in his sleeve! Exasperating thought. Worse than all else, to be laughed at. What worse calamity can befall poor, arrogant human nature?

Constance was now thoroughly angry and ‘‘by the same token,’’ thoroughly unreasonable. It is highly objectionable in a heroine; but Constance, as we have said before, is a very human _ heroine. And, dear reader, however sensible you be, if you have ever been in just the state of mind in which Constance War- dour found herself that morning, and most of us have, I promise you, you were not one whit more reasonable; not one whit less capable of being aggressive, unreasonable, and generally disagreeable.

And now, the perverse imp who goes about, concocting horrible practical jokes, and stirring up contretemps, seemed to

take possession of the field for, just at the moment when he should have been at least five miles away, Doctor Heath, unannounced, appeared at the drawing room door—:miling, too, looking provok- ingly sure of a welcome, and handsomer than usual.

Miss Wardour’s self-possession Was a5 instant as her indignation.

‘‘Good morning, Doetor Heath,’’ frig- idly. ‘‘I am sorry you found it necessary te admit yourself in this manner. I sup- pose my servants are neglectful.”’

‘‘Not at all,”’ replied he, discovering that she was ou’ of humor, but not div- ining the cause. ‘‘Your housemaid ad- mitted me, and thinking you in your own room, was about to usher me in here, and go to announce me, when I saved her the trouble, telling her that my time was limited, and admitting myself; had I known you were here, I should not have intruded without per- mission ;’’ then perceiving that her face retained its frigidity, his voice ‘took on

a shade of haughtiness as he laid a packet upon the table, saying: ‘1 have brought back your ‘proofs;) Mr. Bath-

urst wished me to say, if I chanced t6 see you first, that is,’’ hesitating. ‘‘T have not seen Mr. Bathurst.”’ “No!” Doctor Heath seemed to be somewhat affected by the chill of the at- mosphere. ‘Ther I am to say that he hac something far your vrivate ear. and

Then |

she went, how best '

that Waen ne Cuite-, Ne Jews Chat Vou wii

contrive in some Woy to see him, whether your officer i fo 3 no.’ A grave bow tea L.pland. Then, Officer Le l.auap is here, and in the ines. F 3 consulting her | Watch, ‘*he is w...aug for me at ...1s mo- ment, ’’

Doctor Heath had been standing a few feet from her, hat in hand; now, and in | spite of this implied dismissal, he coolly deposited his hat upon the table beside Migs Wardour’s package, and advanced

nearer to that young lady, speaking calmly, gently even, but without the

penitence, or his manner or

slightest touch of entreaty, humility of any sort in veice.

‘*Miss Wardour, pardon me for alluding to it, but I would be blind indeed not to ; See that something has annoyed you ex- ceedingly. Indeed, I could almost fancy that, in some way, I have become the cause of your displeasure; if this is so, tell me how I have been so unfortunate as to offend?’’

Now this was a very pacific and proper speech, and uttered in the right spirit. But had its effect been salutary, then Doctor Heath would stand alone, the first, last, and only man who ever yet attempted to argue with, reason with, or | pacify an angry woman without blund- ering egregiously in the beginning, and coming out worsted at the end. There are a few things in this world that mortal man can’t compass, and to attempt to pour oil on the waves of a woman’s wrath when they are just at the boiling point, and ready to overflow their con- fines, is like sitting down on'a_ bunch of fire-crackers to prevent their going off. Let the water boil over, and there will still be enough left to brew you a cup of tea. Let the crackers explode, and you may sit down on them with impunity. °

Dear brethren, the moral is homely.

How had he offended? That he should ask the question, was the acme of his | offense. As if she could tell how he had

offended. Was there ever so impertinent | a question and questioner? ‘‘How had he

been so unfortunate as to offend?’ Any | other man would have said ‘‘unhappy,’’ whether he meant it or not,but this man, oh! he would not even look a culprit.

She raised her hanghty head a trifle higher, as high as it could be; she drew back as many steps as he had advanced; the room had become a refrigerator.

‘*Doctor Heath flatters himself; in what manner could he offend me?’’

Still he retains his composure, gucssing at the truth.

“‘I have never presumed Miss Wardour, therefore can not have flattered myself. I may have offended by coming one mo-

not

ment too late with this packet. Miss Wardour is accustomed to unqualified

obedience. If I fail in that it is not from lack of inclination, but—because I am just learning submission.’’ He uttered the last words in a lower, softer tone, azc fell back as he uttered them, laying his hand upon his hat.

Anger, self-shame, and a strange thrill- ing emotion, she could not, or would not recognize Of define, urged her out of herself, beyond herself, and beyond the bounds of propriety or courtesy. Sweep- ing toward him with one swift move- ment, she extended one hand with down- ward turned palm, in a quick, meaning gesture, and said,

‘‘Doctor Heath, I have motte’s letter.’’

‘**Lost it! How?’

“That I should be glad to know since I showed it to you last night and replaced it in my pocket, I have not seen it, and, Doctor Heath, as I do not wish without your knowledge, to be in possession of aty secret of yours, I may as well tell

lost Sybil La-

to the detective last night.’’

‘‘My warning!’’ he repeated, parrot- life. ‘*Your reminder that you must be to

9?

him, Doctor Heath fron® nowhere!

Doctor Hefith from nowhere, gazed at her for a moment as if petrified, his mind seeming reluctant or unable to grasp at once her full meaning; then he came close to her, straight and tall, and paler than her own pale robe; the blood of all the Howards flashing from his eye, and speaking in his bearing. Thus, for a mo- ment, they faced,each ether, pale, pas- sionate, mute them a voice, soft and suave. broke the spell.

‘ (to be Continued.)

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