"Albina + JHE PAY EXAMINER, CHARLOTTETOWN, JUNE 14, 1897 SIRE EEK ERK SIE SISK SRR SII FEE ORE ORR EER ERIE Ese a € ** 1¢ Diamond Coterie * By LAWRENCE M. LYNCH ae (E. ML. Van Deventer) Author of “A Woman’s Crime,” “Join Arthur's Wird,” “The Lost wK t HK We \} o< Witness,” “A Slender Clue,” “Dangerous Ground,” “ Against Odds,” Etc., Etc. Le? VEY Ve Ve AL - rl XV ee ee a ee SEM K =< Me We Ne Noe de ee MEK CON ONT OR ORR ROR OR Ot EAS EK MEME M > Ne lv Ue Ve \ Ue Ve Vb le lt Ve Ur Ve Ue i \ie \ ; \ SEK RAK UK KK cKK EK OK KEE SRE EE RK SE . > SN IRR ROR ON > FIN AIR RNR AN Dae cot kK we SEK iN -gne aay, Wolle In conversazion witn gjss Wardour, I chanced to mention the sume of Evan Lamotte, adding some- not complimentary to that young tleman. Miss Wardour took fire at gpee. She as: ured me that Evan Lamotte «ss not what peaple sought to make him; that in spite of his weaknesses, he had gary noble and lovable qualities. She told me how he came to her when the grst shook of his sister's flight was upon him; she described, vividly, his passion, his sorrow, his love for his sister. He ke of her as the only being on earth (Continued) and Would make nis ure af uncomrort- able as possible; I was a madman. “Constance Wardour tuld me it was not the way tc help Sybil; that such a course would only cause her added sor- row. When I grew calmer J saw that Conny was right. I promised her to do nothing that would add to my poor sis- ter’s unhappiness. ‘By and by they came home, and { saw the misery in my sister’s face; day by day it deepened, her eyes growing hol- low and wild, and full of unutterable | horror and fear, her face growing paler ghom he truly loved, the only one who | pad been unvaryingly kind to him. He cursed the destroyers of his sister's hap ness, aR implore Miss Wardour not tabandon that unfortunate sister. He gid that he believed she would return, gnd he implored her to visit his parents, and intercede tn behalf of the fugitive. “Miss Wardour gave him the required promise, and then said that if the real nason for this strange elopement must rmain a secret, she wished they could hitupon some explanation that would gare the fugitive as much as possible, and satisfy the gossips. Instantly he grang up, declaring that he would furn- jsh A Teason, a reason that no one would question, and that would spare his sister. “A few days later, the story was flring about W—, that to save her brother Evan from the consequences of some evil deed, Sybil Lamotte had sacrificed herself. “When Miss Wardour heard of this she knew that Evan Lamotte had allowed himself to be defamed for his sister’s sake. She knew that the true reasons for her friend’s mesalliance was hidden safe- ly beneath a brother’s sacrifice. “Miss Wardour told me this, and much more, in praise of Evan Lamotte; and here, for his sake, let me say, that in studying John Burrill and Francis La- motie, I had discovered that Sybil La- motte had been made to believe, that the honor and safety of her father and elder brother, depended upon her = sacrifice, when the truth is, that she was sold. Simply solda—for their convenience, and their gain. “You have looked upon Jasper Lamotte as an honorable citizen. On the day of John Burriil’s funeral, I resumed my old disguise, that of Brooks, and went to Mapleton; I told Mr. Lamotte that I had come as a friend of his, and of Burrill’s, to warn him, that if Nance Burrill was allowed to ramain in W—, she would be brought forward at this trial, and give damaging.evidence against his dead son- law. “I remained in the library with him | some fifteen minutes. My errand was 4 fap, and he fell into it. What followed, Mr. Belknap has already told. In the presence of this court, Jasper Lamotte has perjured himse f. Let the officers of the law keep this : ict in mind. “Now, to return to my witness. When Iheard Miss Wardour’s glowing vindica- tion of Evan Lamotte, I said to myself, ‘Here is the right person. Evan Lamotte is the one who can clear up this mystery.’ It was clear as day to my eyes. “It was necessary that I should see him, but I very soon learned that he was | lying at his home dangerously ill. and quite out of his senses. There was noth- ing to do but to wait. I made the acquaintance of Doctor Benoit, and from him I obtained daily news of his patient. “At the eleventh hour, when I had be- gun to despair of his recovery, the doctor reported the pxtient restored to his sen- ses. I then told him, Doctor Benoit, that the very moment Evan Lamotte was able to listen, and to talk rationally, I must see him. That the case was one of life and death. “This day, at the very hour when the trial was called, I set out for Maple- tons; I saw Evan Lamotte; I ‘told him that’ Clifford Heath was on trial for the murder of John Burrill; and that the chances were against him. “It is not necessary to repeat all that passed between_us, the result is, that Evan Lamotte comes into this court of his own free will and accord, and it is his desire that he be allowetd to tell his Own story. “He comes here freely, willingly, ask- ing nothing, hoping nothing, «nd when this audience has heard his testimony, they will join me in pronouncing him the noblest Lamotte of them all.” There is a look so weird, so unearthly, in the eyes of Evan Lamotte, as he comes forward and turns his face slowly upon the audience, so that all can see its ghastly contrast with those burning orbs, that a startled hush falls upon them all, a funeral silence pervades the room. They seem to note for the first time, what a solemn thing 1s the oath, which Evan takes with voice, hollow and weak, but calm and full of decision. His breath comes in short gasps, his Sentences are broken, the fatigue caused by his effort to speak is evident. But he Goes on to the end, and this is what he £ays :— “When I learned that my sister's life had been ruined, I was a madman; I did hot know for a time why she had thus thrown herself away, but I determined that I would know, and I set myself te S}Y¥ upon my own family. “If the detective had not told you thus truth I should withhold it now, for we allhave « sufficient burden of shame upen us. “I watched and I listened and I learned Why Sybil had been sacrificed. At first I thought I would openly .cs- sSult Burri!l. would compel him to. resist o & Space and thinner, and sadder, her hands so weak and tremulous, all appealed to me, all maddened me afresh. I resolved that in some way I would free her. But how? ‘*Day after day I brooded upon it. Bur: rill became more bestial, more besotted, | more contemptible, every day. My sister’s ae aemne age strength was almost gone, her reason was tottering. ““I began to cuitivate Burrill. I flatter- ed him; I caroused with him. I had sunk so low myself that he could feel at easn with me. But drunk or sober I nevet once forgot a resolve I had taken. Mat- ters Were going from bad to worse. It must be Sybil's life or his. I resolved that it should not be my sister who was sacrificed. “When I found that no more time could be wasted, I laid my plans. I feigned illness and Kept my room for sey- eral days. ‘Burrill came daily to sea me. I told him that IT had some rare new fun in my head, and we planned that [ should feign to be worse than usual. Burrill know that our people had made efforts to stop our nocturnal expeditions, and he agreed with me that the thing should be kept early, saying that he would spend a couple of hours at ‘Old Forty’s,’ and then meet me at a place appointed. **At nine o’olock I stole out, and no one at Mapleton discovered my absence. I did not intend that they should. I wait- | ed at the place appointed for our meeting | until I grew impatient. The time came for him to appear; he did not vome. I knew where I should find him, and set out for ‘Forty Rods.’ I wes determined to let that night end Sybii‘s troubles. “Half wag betvyreen the sntoon and Doc- tor Heath’s I saw him. He passed close to me, as I came up from Mill avenue, and reeled across the road. He wae not cing toward our rendezvous, but away rom it. “I followed steaithily. I did not make my nearness known. I think he was too drunk to know where he was going or where to stop. He reelefi past Doctor Heath's house, and wes nearly opposite the gate of the empty lot before he dis- covered that he had gone too far. “He turned, and while he leaned againat the fence and seemed to ponder, I crept upon him, knife in handy; I struck him, once, again, a third time. He utter. si one groan loud enough to have been heard some distance away, and then fell heavily. I had struck home. When I was zure that he was dead—lI seemed to know just how to act—I ran to the gate of the Burns’ lot and opened it wide. The body was twice my weight but I dragged it | inside before my strength gave out. a ‘“‘Then, for a while, I seemed panic stricken. What should I do with that lody? By and by, I thought of a way to get help. I waited until midnight, then I made my way to Mapleton, ail blood stained, and carrying the knife with me. Unseen I entered and gained Frank’s room. He was up and pacing the floor; I told him to follow me. Me saw my blood- stained hands and garments; I opened my coat and displayed the knife, and he obeyed me. I told him what I had done, and that he must help ime conceal the body. For a moment he seemed stunned, and then he assisted me with surprising readiness; he planned everything; in fact, °. took the lead from thas moment. i thought he was working to save his brother. The detective has told me the truth, and abjured me to tell all I know. ‘‘Frank left me at the foot of the stairs leading to Heath’s office. When he came down he seemed much excited, and hur- ried on very fast. We scooped out a grave in the cellar, as best we could in the dark, Frank working actively. He told me to take my knife and throw ‘it into the ojd well—if you look yon will find it there. While I was doing it, he must have put the other knife in the grave. When I came back he had covered the face with something white. I. did not think about it at the time; now I know that it was Doctor Heath's handkerchief. ‘*Doetor Heath is an innocent man. . I killed John Burrill; I am here to accept the consequences. I did the deed to save my sister. I do not regret it.’’ Then, turning toward the place where Frank Lamotte sits, cowering and panic stricken, he stretches out one spectral hand and says :— ‘‘Frank! Frank Lamotte, do the only thing left you to do; stand up and say that I have spoken the truth. Let us enc. this at once, Frank!’’ Like one roused from some strange stupor, Frank staggers to his feet. “Tt is all true!’ he gasps. ‘‘Evan has told nothing but the truth.’’ Then he | ' the Wardour diamonds?’’ falls back in his seat more dead than alive. To describe the triumph of O'Meara; | the mingled pity and gladness that fills the heart of Constance; the rejoicings of Clifford Heath's friends, one and all; the misery and the shame that overwhelmed the Lamottes wanld he «2-*e—7. ihe excitement oi the wudience, judge and jury, can be imagined better than described. ‘The tragic farce is at an ond. The case is given to the jury. Withous quitting their places, they return their verdict. Clifford Heath is not guilty; is honorably acquitted. Exhausted by his recent effort, Evan Lamotte is carried from the court room, closely attended by his mother; is carried | to the cell where lately Clifford Heath | has dwelt a prisoner, while the latter is escorted in triumph, to O’Meara’s, by all his rejoicing friends. As the procession of conquerors moves | / away from the entrance, an officer ap- | proaches Jasper Lamotte. ‘*Mr. Lamotte, [ am_ very sorry, sir, | but you must consider yourself my pri- soner. Jasper Lamotte bows coldly, and sig- nals the man that he will follow him. The officer turns to Frank, but before he can open his lips. the miserable young Iman steps back, makes one quick move- ment; there is a flash, a loud report, and Frank Lamotte falls forward, to be caught in the arms of a by-stander. They lay him gently down, and Jasper Lamotie bids them send for a physician; there must be one very near. But Frank beckons his father to come close, and when the «ethers have drawn back, this is what the father hears, from the son’s lips :— ‘There is another—pistol in my pocket —I meant it for Evan—you—had better —use it.”’” Horrible words from the lips of a dying son. ‘hey are his last. Before Doctor Benoit can turn beck and reach his side, Frank Lamotte has finished his career of folly, and sin, and shame, dying as he had livea, selfishly, like a coward. CHAPTER XLIV. “T never before in all my _ career, brought to justice a criminal whom I both pitied unreservedly, and justified fully. Viewing all things from his stand- point, Evan Lamotte is less a murderer than a martyr.”’ It is the day after the trial with so strane an ending. They are seated in O’ Meara’s library; Constance, Mrs. Alis- ton, Mrs. O'Meara, Sir Clifford, his brother, the Honorable Gecrge Heather- cliffe, Ray Vandyck, O’Meara, and Mr. Bathurst. Mr. Bathurst, who now ap- pears what he is; a handseme gentleman, about thirty years of age, clever, vivaci- ous, eminently agreeable. Mr. Wedron, like Brooks, has served out his day, and , been set aside. secret. On the last night he left the house They have assembled at the detective’s request, and while fully expecting a reve- lation of some sort,. they look a serene, and not an apprehensive party. ‘Poor Evan,’’ sighs Constance; ‘I pity him most sincerely; I shall go and see him.’’ ‘We will. go and see him,’’ corrects Sir Clifford, and ske smiles, and does not dispute the correction. ‘*Before I begin my other story,’’ says, the detective, ‘‘I may as well tell you of my visit yesterday, xnd how my news was received. , ‘*From the moment when I heard Miss Wardour's description of Evan Lamotte, I knew he was our man. Sut I was de- termined to have no more mistakes. So 1 kept my opinion to myself. You can imagine how anxiously I hung upon the words of Doctor Benoit, knowing that apon this boy’s chances for life hung Sir Clifford's life, Hberty, and honor. ‘‘When I saw that poor, pale, wreck of humanity, my heart almost failed me. How could I drag his secret ‘from him? But no time was to be lost, and, as best that his sister believed herself t cneq guitty, at least, is that ehe had in etigated the deed, anfl next, that Sir Clifford waa now the victim of this crime. His mind at once seemed to grasp the issne. He had listened to me intently, breathlessly almost; he now lifted himself suddenly from the bed,and seid quickly — “* ‘Why, then, it seems I have not sarei Sybil ret. Call my mother! let me see her alone.’ “TJ obeyed him without a question; they were alone together for a long half hour, then Mrs. Lamotte Game to me with the same look upon her face that you saw in court. ‘s ‘Evan tells me that you know every- thing,’ she said, her voice trembling in spite of herself. ‘He tells me that you are a detective. Then you know that I have one son of whom I may be proud. Evan Lamotte has saved his sister’s honor. Saved it doubly. My weak, my ill-used Evan, has proven the only man with a man’s pride, who bears the name of Ia- motte, because he could not see his sister and his mother contaminated by the presence of the monster his father and brother had been so base as to force upon us; he has taken justice into his own hands. He has freed his sister; he has saved her from crime, and now he stands ready to put himself in the place of a wronged and innocent man. I shall go with him into court; I shall not leave him again.’ “She broke off with a dry sob and turned away to prepare for the drive. ‘*How I pitied that proud woman. How tender she was of her lost boy, and how he clung to her. ‘‘Mr. O’Meara,’’ turning suddenly toward the lawyer, ‘‘we must get that poor fellow out of that cell. Doctor Be- noit says that he can Hive but a short time at best. He must not die there, and justice can not deal with a dying man:’ ‘‘T think it can be managed,’’ replied the lawyer. ‘‘All W— will favor the scheme. Not a man or woman will raise their voice against that dying boy. He will have plenty of friends now.”’ ‘‘He shall find them strong friends, too,’’ exclaimed Constance. ‘*‘ Mrs. O’Meara, we will stir up the whol town.’’ ‘*Then yen'll get your way,’’ put in Bathurst. ‘‘And now, Miss Wardour, are I could I told him nee First, . e guilty ' you ready to hear the end of the mystery surrounding the Wardour robbery, and All eyes were turned at once upon the ker, ‘‘Because I have asked you all to meet ' me here to-day that I might tell it,’’ he went on. ‘It will contain much that is new to vou all an@ it will trterest von all. I know Miss Wardour will wish you | all to hear the end of her diamond case, ' and the fate of her robbers.’’ “Of course! You are perfectly right, Mr. Bathurst,’’ said Constance. ‘‘ Doctor Heath cuts more of a figure than he knows in this business, and Ray has | staid out in the cold long. enough. Go on, Mr. Bathurst, expose me in all my iniquity. But have you really found the robbers?’’ *‘Listen,’’ said the detective, and while they all fixed upon him their gravest attention he began. CHAPTER XLV. , ‘For several years past,’’ began Mr. Bathurst, ‘‘the city and many of the wealthier suburban towns have been undergoing a systematic overhauling. Through the network of big thefts, and little thefts, petit larcenies and bank rob- beries, there has run one elear-cut burg- larious specialty—a style of depredations noticeably similar in ease after case; alike in ‘design and execution,’ and al- ways baffling to the officers. ‘*T allude to a series of robberies of jewelry and plate, a succession of provyok- ing thefts, monstrious enough to be easily traced, but executed with such ex- ceeding finesse that in no single instance has the property been recovered, or the robbers run to earth. ‘*These fastidious thieves never took money in large amounts, only took platg when it was of the purest metal and least cumbersome sort; and always ¢imed for the brightest, the purest, the costli- est diamonds. Diamonds indeed seemed their specialty. “This gang has operated in such a gingerly, gentlemanly, mysterious man- ner, and has raided for diamonds so long and so successfully, that they have come to be called, among New York detectives, The Diamond Coterie, although no man knew whether they numbered two, or twenty. “They could always recognize their handiwork, however. and whenever the news came that some lady in the eity, or suburbs, has lost her diamonds, and that the thieves had made a ‘clean job’ of it, the officers said, ‘that’s the work of the Diamond Coterie.’’ **T have been much abroad of late, but every time I came back to New York the Coterie had gathered fresh jewels into its treasure box, and no man had found a clue to the sly fellows. ‘I began to feel interested in the clique and resolved to take a hand at them, at the first opportunity. That opportunity came, With the news of the great Wardour robbery, and I came down to W—. ‘**I saw enough in this robbery to inter- est me, for various reasons. ‘I believed I cotld see distinctly the handiwork of the Diamond-Coterie, and I saw another thing; it was the first piece of work Lhad known them to bungle. And they had bungled in this. ‘*T made some of my conclusions known te Miss Wardour and her friends, but I kept to myself the most important ones. ‘The story of the chloroform, so care. fully administered, was one of the things over which I pondered much; I borrowed the chloroform bottle and the piece of linen that had been used to apply the drug, and that night I accepted the hos- ‘pitality proffered me by Sir Clifford. I took a wax impression of the vial, at his house, and I made an important discoy- ery while there.” / . ‘Sir Clifford found me half famished and ordered his housekeeper to bring in a lunch. Not wishing my identity known I pretended to be a patient; and fust as my host was leaying the room, he tossed | . me a handkerchief, which he took from a side table, bidding me make myself « bandage to partially conceal my face. ‘‘Now my eyes are trained to see much at a glance, and the moment they fell upon that bit of white Mnen they were riveted there. (To be Continued. ) Positively cured by these Little Pills. They also relicve Distress from Dyspepsia, Indigestion and Too Hearty Eatingy. A-per- fect remedy for Dizziness, Nausea, “Drywsi- ness, Bad Taste in the Mouth, Coat€d Tongue Pain in the Side, TORPID LIVER. They Regulate the Bowels. Purely Vegetable. email Pill. Small Dose. _ Small Price. Substitution the fraud of the day. See you get Carter's, Ask for Carter's, Insist and demand Carter's Little Liver Pills. CHARLOLPTETOWN Buy your tickets for Boston by the fast Steamer Halifax. W.W. CLARK, Ticket Agent 116— Spring Sp Walke r’s Corner 134 --— ecialties. 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