Evening Star Newspaper, February 22, 1896, Page 19

THE RAJAR?S HEIRLOOM, ————>-—_—__ BY FLORENCE MARRYAT, Author of “Her Lord and Master,” Ete. —_>__—_ (Wopyright, 1895, by Bachcller, Johnson & Bacheller.) (Coatinued from February 15.) SYNOPSIS. John Busby, a Scotland Yard detective, is Bent to Manningford to investigate the rob- bery of a diamond necklace worth £30,000. This belonged to Sir Henry Ellesmere, who has just died, and the jewels were found missing after the reading of the will. Busby puts up at the hotel, and overhears the cus- tomers discussing the matter, one of whom suspects the young wife of Sir Henry to have taken them. ‘The detective questions her stepson, the new baronet, who tells him the jewels were given to his father by an Indian prince, were intended as an heirloom, and that his stepmother always wanted them. He tells of his own marriage and of a quarrel with his father, who was angered by it. Busby questions the widow, and she hints that Sir Charles himself has taken the jewels. He also hears of and sees a deaf and dumb wo- man, Julia Craley; a dwarf, who has a home in the house, and has always heen very de- Voted to Sir Charles ani his father. An unceuth sound, unlike the speech of human or animal, was uttered In reply to this appeal, and I saw Lady Ellesmere shrink back a little as she said: e it's poor Julia! He is bringing her in The next moment the young baronet had entered, dragging by the hand a most dis- tressing-looking object, in the shape of a deformed woman of avout four feet high, with a large face and head, a repellant ex- Pression and very ugly features. She was clinging to bis hand and gazing in his face nt to be affection- ned very repulsive; but ht of young Lady f she gave 9 sort o: the : “Pocs + anrct her jealo’ ofy 4 i cannot fet her over the thresiold of the room. She regards intruder to the family. _ Poor lit ie it must be to h: ir Charles, of Ellesmere has She ts almost, If an neither speak rstands any- . years, and always nursed illnesses. then, Sir Charles, I Goddard next. ou will descend to the library, 3 by, I will send him to you: I left the room with le the towards tt. her, he pl: door with her As the ced his d it pas- ving aim a accountsd to, the de the room. I thought, “I minded car my wife, lest she jury. Creatures of this as vicious as they are ugly.” . I kept my thoughts to my- ‘ard entered the Ibrary with a step and a look of grave import- jently, he was bristling with ent for me before any s. sir,” he commenced, n put you on a track th revelations more sig: I am glad to hear ra.” 1 replied, “as this case appears to be rather a difficult one and we want all the light thrown upon it that Is possible. When did you last see these jewels?” ‘ot for ages and ages, sir—them sort of have no interest for me, and. barring t master got them fn return fora I shouldn’t never have But, when a ro . Mr. G looked at them at haa been house like T behooves every 0} nd think ¥ d what the seen suspicious. in connec- ) with the circumstances. Do you agree view of the matter, Mr. Goddard. 1 ever seen any suspicious-loo! s about The Gables of lat: ne to me, and lowered “here Is In confidence, str. You t me into a scrape with the young PART IV. “Of course not. Are you not acting In his interests?” “Why, certainly; but things seem a bit mixed to me. Well, sir, you see, servants ain't all deaf and dumb, like that pore cree- ter that is kept here out of charity. We has our senses, sir, and our feelin's, and we can’t s shut our eyes to what is a-go! it was about a month ago, when I fust © evening. as I was puiting up the shutters in the lbrary, a dark figger lurk- ing along the shrubberies—T couldn't see him Jory plainly. but he looked lke a loafer or a tramp to mé—I didn't like the looks of him and I called James, the footman, to into the garden and see who it might ames, be. B being but a lad and tim- h a time about obeying my orders that when he went the man was gone, though I'm as certain I saw him as IT am that I see you at this present moment!" Goddard Drew Nearer to Lowered His Voice. one, Well! but what of it? You must en ive beggars and tramps round a large house like this.’ , “This wasn’t no beggar,” resumed God- dard, mysteriously. “Well, sir, the Tues- day before my old master was taken with his last illness her ladyship had out the jewels in the forenoon, rubbing them up and showing them to Sir Henry and Miss Craley <that's the pore deformed lady, you know. Rachel Marks was passing in and out of the room at the time, and can bear witness to the fact. My lady, she held them against her gownd, and she says to Rachel: ‘They'll be mine, some day, Rachel!” and Miss Craley she screamed in her queer way, and Sir Henry smiled, as if it was all right, though, mind you. I don’t believe nothing would have made him leave them there jewels away from Sir Charles, not if he’d been in his right senses, not for ever so!” . “You*were present at the interview be- tween Sir Henry and his son on the follow- ing day, I believe, Goddard?” “Yes, sir, I was, and I hope never to be present at such another, for I really thought they would have flown at one another's throats. Sir Henry he was in a terrible state, and the young 'un was as bad, and, as I heard the old master say that Sir Charles was no son of his, and that he'd cut his name out of his will, and that he'd be left a pauper on the bounty of the dowager Lady Eilesmere. though I, for one, never be- leved it, and knew it was only said ina pas- sion-like, and that in his heart the old mas- ter loved his'son better than any one else. Well, sir, you've heard how it ended, and we had to carry poor Sir Henry up to his bed, where he lay till he died, unable to speak or to swallow. That evening, as I was watch- ing his bed, with little Miss Craley crouched down by his side, moaning just like an ani- mal in distress, my eyes kept turning to the window, just to divert my thoughts, and presently I see the same figger I’ve spoke of, loafing round the shrubberies and keeping Well in the shadder. And while I was looking there comes out a second figger and joins him—and I could have sworn that It was my lady—but, for God’s sake, sir, you won't be- tray me, for I couldn't be sure, but Mrs. Nelson, who have been here almost as long as I have, will tell you the same, that is, that my lady did go out that evening in the dusk,.and she sees her pass into the sarub- beries, and come back alone! And that’s all I know about the missing of the jewels, sir Thank you, Mr. Goddard. Your conii- dence shall be respected. Will you send Mrs. Nelson to me?” When the old man had gone, I rose from my chair and began to pace the library. An complice—probably a Jover—-on the scene. ‘ha’ m entirely fresh complexion T seem to see ft all ae An old n . who tried to set by In order that s She believed her ject, and then the o prevents the accompli she determines at all risks to secure the jewels for herself—calls In an accomplice, or, as I surmise, her lover—gives them into his charge—perhaps to take them out of the country until she can join him—and so they might be gone beyond recall. But I would get to the bottom of the mystery if mortal man could do it! It was a more in- tricate case than I had expected--so much the more kudos might I gain from unravel- ing {t. My blood rose at the prospect. I felt quite exctted by the time the prim, oid- fashioned housekeeper of The Gables had entered my presence. She was a quaint- looking old woman, the very picture of a servant of trust, in her respectable Ik gown and her white quilled eap. She curtsied low as she encountered me, and stood like a statue with her mittened hands erossed over her apron, to hear what I to her. is Mrs. Nelson, I believe?” I “I suppose, as you have been for so lon in the family, that you have often seen the een them several times vten did you see them lé son? Not for a long time, sir; my bus! lying in the upper stories of the house.” San you tell me when you heard of them last—what you can remember happening on Tvesday and Wednesday preceding your master's death?” i don't know much about the Tuesday, sir, excepting that Rachel Marks came down to my room, all of a flutter, to tell me that my lady had shown her the rajah's She ‘said she had never seen any- so beautiful in her Hfe before—thal like lightning, and she wou die if she could only have some like them, Rachel Marks said that, did she “Yes, sir! foolish and girl-like, as I told ter, for what use would such valuables he to ber, specially If she was dead. Btt I feel @She had seen them, for she was quite ited over it. My lady was rubbing then: ith a piece of chamois leather, she said, ull they looked like a rainbow of colors. But that’s ail I know about the Tuesday.” “And the Wednesday, Mrs. Nelson?” ‘Ah! that was a terrible day for us all, sir. Master Charles (as he was then) came down from London by the 11 o'clock train, and saw Sir Henry in the library. There was high words between them—we ser- vants could hear them plainly down in the kitchen, and it frightened us to death—and my lady was listening outside in the hall, too, with a face like a sheet. We heard Sir Henry say: ‘That's right! strike your father! it will be only another crime added to your record!’ and Master Charles replied: ‘If I was to Kill you, it would be scarcely a worse crime than that woman (meaning her ladyship, if you please, sir.) has in- duced you to commit against me!’ We was all listening in the passage, sir, and our halr stood on end to hear them.” Mr. God- dard, he was for breaking in the door to prevent bloodshed, but presently Master came out, looking very white, and all. 1 shall never and he rushed away into the grounds, and we saw no more of him till he came down for the fu- neral. There was no sound from the H- brary, and after a while my lady went in, and gave a scream, an@ then we ail fol- loved her, and there my poor old mas- t#, sitting in his chair, with his mouth drawed to one side. Goddard and me, we saw It was a stroke at once, and when we'd ied him up to his bed, we sent for the ctor. Mr. Goddard, he was told off to see st d after Sir Henry, and by evening he seemed She Was a Quaint-Locking Old Wo- man. @ goodish bit better, and the doctor didn’t think there was any danger, so Mr. God- dard left him for a bit with little Miss Craley, who couldn't be persuaded to leave his side—she was that fond of him and Master Charles—and came down to tell me how he was a getting on. And then it was he told me of the figger that he had seen loitering about the premises some days be- fore, and how he’s seen it again that very moment, entering the shrubberies.” ‘What did you say to that?" ‘Why, sir, my first thought was for my lady, who had left the house but a short time before. Whatever would she do, I said, if she met the man, and he was rude to her. I had seen her in the hall, wrapping a dark mantle around her head and shoul- ders, and I had ventured to say, surely she was never going out at such a time—half- past 6G, sir, and such a dark evening—and she replied that she had a headache, and must have some fresh air; so, of course, I said no more. Mr. Goddard and me, we watched at the dining reom windows for over half an hour, and then we saw my lady coming out of the shrubberies by her- self. I went to meet her in the hall, and her cloek was wringing wet. I said: ‘It is to ba hope@ that you won't catch your death of cold, my lady! And she said: ‘I'm so upset about this affair, Nelson, that I don’t know if I’m standing on my head or my heels.” But I never saw noth- ing of the man, sir, and when I asked my lady if she'd met him, she called me-a fool, and said ;t was too dark to see anything! Which it was, sir!” teen wit the Dowaser Lagy aioe wit! ie wager Ellesme: Miya act teat = “Well, sir, not what you may call over and above good! Many’s the time I would have given warning, if it hadn't been for the old master. Her temper’s high, and she havrn’t much consideration for her servants. Nor hedn’t for Sir Henry, neither, though wouldn't hear a word against her! But I, for one, wasn’t sur- prised when I heard the contents of the will, for I knew he loved his son at heart, though my lady had come so much be- tween them of late years. He never really meant to leave his money away from Mas- ter Charles, not for one moment; and my lady, she knew as much, too! I've heard her coax him again and again to give her them jewels, but he always made the same answer, that they weren’t his to give!" “Is this all you can tell me, Mrs. Nel- son?” ‘It {s all, sir. “Which of the other servants saw the most of Sir Henry in his last hours?” “Only Rachel Marks, sir!’* “Well, send Rachel Marks to me here!" The old women curtsied herself out of the rccm again, and in another minute her place was taken by a bright, rosy-cheeked girl of about twenty, all giggles and blushes, stuf- fing a corner of her apron in her mouth the while she spoke to ime. “Are you called Rachel Marks?” I began. “Oh, yes, sir; but I hope you're not going to write down anything I say, because I never set eyes on them jewels till my lady calied me to her and asked me if they wasn’t beautiful, and she said they would be hers as likely as rot ‘WHER Bit ‘Henry died, and all I answered was: ‘Yes,’ and I never see them again, sir, as sure as I’m a living woman!" ‘I am certain you did not! How could you, when they were always locked away. Have you a young man, Rachel? But I needn’t ask the question. You're too pretty @ girl to want a beau. Rachel reddened and smiled. “T's like your imper’ence to ask," she re- plied, with the effrontery, with which a pretty woman always feels she can address even a constable of the law; ‘but of course I have. Haven't you a young woman your- self, now?” “And you met him_on the Tuesday even- ing following the day you saw the jewels?” “I'm sure I didn’t,” said Rachel, opening her eyes, “you ask Mrs. Nelson if I did. Wey, I only Lave every oiher Sunday out. And Tuesday evening ts my time for wash- ing the fine things, and I always do them in her room, so she's the best person to epply to if you want to know where I was on Tuesday evening. But what if I did g2 out? What do you want to insin- uate? “Nothing, my dear, nothing,” I replied in my pleasantest marner, “and how many more maids are there at The Gables besides yourself?” There’s only Molly, the kitchen maid,and Townsend, my lady's own maid, sir, “5 never upstairs, and Miss never down stairs, so they Nevertheless, 1t was my duty to cross- question them ail, which I did, but with- out eliciting anything satisfactory concern- ing the loss of the jewels. I next went through the entire house with Sir Charles Ellesmere, carefully examining every place, nook or box where the heirloom might by haphazard be concealed, followed all the time by the dwarf, Julia Craley, who nod- ded her tmbecile head from side to side, and clapped her hands as if she understood what we were saying—but we found no sign nor token of them, and I felt con- vinced they were not in the house. I was reluctantly compelled to tell the baronet that I had been unable as yet to come to any conclusion on the matter, but must ask leave to return to my hotel and take counsel with myself. Meanwhile he was to see that no one left The Gables, except for a promenade. As soon as I re-entered the hotel, 1 wired to our chief at Scotland Yard: “Cannot trace. Send Crewe up by rext train. Want assistance.” My chum arrived true to time, and I laid the whole story as I had gathered it before him. PART Vv. Ben Crewe was a man of a long head and solid judgment. He thought slowly, but, as a rule, he thought sure, and he generally came to the right conclusion. We had been acquainted ever since we en- tered the force, and kad worked a deal to- gether, and knew each other's methods and ways. I told him everything I had seen and observed, and waited rather anxious- ly for the remarks that should follow. In my idea there could be no doubt who had committed the robbery, but Ben would not give any opinion on the subject. “You know, Jack,” he said, “that you musi always give me time to think over things. Let us have a pipe together, and when that’s through, m: e I may hav seen summat, but it locks dark to me now So we sat in the coffee room of the hotel and smoked together in silence. Ben ‘n- ished his first pipe and filled another, and gat there, with crossed knees and closed All Giggles uad Blushes. eyes, for all the world like a graven image and about as motionless. I thought he would have never done, but I knew him too well to interrupt his train of thought. At last, after a good hour or more, he opened eyes—stretched himself—yawned and “Let's go for a walk and have a look about the place!” It was a wet morning, not at all fitted for a stroll, but I wouldn't gainsay Ben, so we sallied out side by side, and took our way up the village street, until we reach- ed the open country. “You don't seem to catch on to the idea of a lover, Ben,” I ventured to say. “No, Jack! I don’t,” he answered briefly. Why not?” ‘Because no lady would be such a fool as to meet a man, as she oughtn’t to, in her own grounds and before the eyes of her servants. Mind! I don't say as they haven't done it and werse things besides, but not such a woman as you describe this Lady Ellesmere, with a determined char- acter and mvsterful will. If she went to meet the man at all, which I doubt—and you know how servants are always ready to make the worst of everything their em- ployers may do, especially if, as in this case, they don't like them—she went to send him away or warn him off the grounds. Sir Charles told you he believed that a spy was set upon his movements, which, as likely as not, is true. What if this loafer were the spy, and her ladyship, believing the young man was gone for good, went to pay and dismiss him? It's as likely a notion as not.” “Of course, it might be,” I answered, in a dissatisfied tone, for I had felt so sure that Ben would fall in with the ideas I had fermed concerning the case; “but how, then, do you suppose the jewels were ab- stracted?” “Haye patience!” he replied. “I haven’t come to tat part of the matter yet. We were walking along some fields as he spoke, and drawing near to the churchyard where Sir Herry lay buried. is where they put the poor old I observed, as we entered the wicket gate. “It's a pity he can’t rise again for an hour or two and let us hear what he knows about the affair!” Ben grinned in his queer manner, and we walked to the opposite side of the church- yard, where the baronet was buried. It had been his particular wish—so I had been told—not to be laid in the damp family vault, with his moldering forefathers, but out in the open space, where the light and sunshine might fall upon his grave. So as yet thera was only a mound of earth heap- ed above his remains, the monument which Sir fharles had ordered to be erected to his Memory not being ready. As Ben and I came in sight of the grave we were startled to see what looked like a bundle laid upon it, but which proved on nearer inspection to be the figure of the poor dwarf, Miss Craley, who was lying out there all of a heap in the rain. “Poor creature!” I exclaimed; “they told me her love for the old gentleman was more like that of a dog than a human be- ing, and so it must have been. No one but a dog would have the fidelity to forget dis- cecmfort like this in its grief for the loss of what it loved. But she mustn’t He here. She will catch her death of cold! Here, Miss Craley,”’ I continued, raising my voice, “Miss Craley! you must let me take you a You must not stay here in the rain?” But I might as well have spoken to the grave itself, for all the notice she took of my words. a “Hush!” said Ber, laying his hand on my arm. “This is thg poor lttle humpback you told me off “Let us try and communi- cate with her! It is an excellent oppor- tunity, finding her ‘here alone: “But she 1s deaf and dumb,” I replied; ie can neithér' fiéar nor answer.” ucT know ine almp alphabet,” said Ben, “and doubtless she knows it, tool They have told you that if these jewels were taken from the ‘baronet’s bed room, she must have seen jt done, as she was pres- ent all the time!’ Let us try if she can tell us anything about the matter!” “It is useless,” I demurred; “if she could talk with her fingers, they would have got it all out of her at, once.” And the upshot proved I was right. We went up to the grave and touchcd the dwarf gently on the shoulder. She took no notice at first, but after repeated taps she raised her head, and I saw that her eyes were swollen with crying. The sight moved me. Poor unhappy creature! Were her bodily affiictions not enough to bear, that she was called upon to sorrow for the loss of her best friend? “Mustn’t He-here!” I said, talking as if she prensa ltle abla and pointing up to the dull sky and down to the damp ground Parana catch cold—be very, pay Ase let me take you home!” pointing to where the thatched roof of The Gables was vis- {ble above the trees. She made some unin- telligible reply and shook her shoulders free from my touch, but she did not scream in the painful manner in which I had heard her when tn, the presence of Sir Charles and Lady Elesmere. I reiterated my argument, and I saw she watched my lips and gained some knowledge of my meaning, for she shook her head azid laid it down again upon the wet clay piled above the grave. Around her and all over the mound were scattered such wild flow- ers as one can find in late autumn, they looked draggled and wet as herself, and she had lain on them till they were all crushed and disfigured. “Did you love him?” I ask- ed, pointing downward to the grave and making such actions with my lips and hands as to my ideas were emblematic of affection, though Ben told me afterward that I looked dike nothing but the repre- sen{ation of a windmill, and that he had the greatest difficulty to prevent himself bursting out laughing, which wouid, of course, have spoiled the whole thing. I am sure the poor creature understood what I meant, for she gave a low moan like that of a wounded animal, and the tears gushed forth from her eyes again. Snd- uenly she appeared to be all comprehen- sion, for she sat upright, and gazing up at me, she pointed to her mouth and moaned —then turning to the grave, she scratched the earth about with her fingers—turning from the useless task with another and again pointing to her mouth, as th she deplored her inability to speak to us. “What can she mean?” I said, musiugly. Ben made no réply, but I could see from the expression of his face that he was struck by the coincidence, but finding awhile t we could not persuade Miss Craley to icave her position, we strolled away, and turned our steps again toward the villaze. said Ben, presently; “who was She Scratched the Earth With Her Fingers. the medical man who attended Sir Henry on his deathbed?” “A Stone, I believe—a local practi- “Have you interviewed him?” No! I didn’t see the necessity! Sir Charles told me he bad the certificate of death, which said that the old man died of paralysis of the brain.” “I propose that we go and see this Dr. Stone at once!” ‘Good heavens, man! your head now?” “Only an idea, Jack, raised by the ac- tions of that poor idiot yonder. Did you notice how she pointed to her mouth and then scratched at the earth above the grave, as if she wanted to scratch the body up Nand what do you make of that—from an idiot, Ben?” “Idiots often have more sense than wise men give them eredit for. This Miss Cra- Jex was in the old baronet’s room till he died, you tell me, and saw all that passed, though she has but few means of relating the story. Why should she want to scratch him up again? Why does she as- sociate the idea with her mouth—with something going into her open mouth? Has she seen anything go into his? Will taking up the body reveal the truth? His death appears to have heen a sudden and rather mysterlous one—the widow ‘ells you that before the quarrel with his son he was as well and hearty as herself. The son says that ho never heard that his father was ill unt he received the news of his death. Quarrels, however painful, do not as a rule kill people.” “But the old gentleman had a decided stroke. Goddard, the butler, and Mrs. Nel- son bear witness to that. “I dare say; but strokes do not kill the first time of occurrence—at least, not as a rule—especially when the subject is strong and hearty. I think it is our duty to see the doctor who attended him.” “But we are not trying to find out a case of murder,” I objected. “Welll that is my notion,” answered Ren, “‘but if my head’s no good to you I'd better go back to London.” I didn’t like to hear the old boy talk like that, for [ had the greatest admiration for his cuteness and faith in his opinion, as a rule, though this proposal, of his did seem rather unnecessary to me.” But Ben Crewe was a strange fellow! Occasionally we oth- ers have said amongst ourselves that there was something uncanny about him. He would refuse to see a reason for a thing, sometimes, when it seemed as clear as day, and then all of a sudden he would start the wonderfullest notion—dream, as it were, or it came across his mind just like a flash of lightning, without apparent rhyme or reason, but it would prove to be the right thing in the end, and left us all wondering how he had got hold of it. So I had great faith in Ben, even when he seemed most unintelligible, and wouldn't have flown in the face of his wishes for anything. I told him something of the sort on the present occasion, but he only an- swered rather gruffly, as though he didn't like it mentioned: “Never mind where I got it, or if it's: my own idea or some one else's. I want to sée this doctor, and the sooner we go to him the better. Accordingly we stopped at his house on our way-back to the hotel, and were soon ushered into his surgery. Of course, he had heard, in common with everybody else, of our presence in Matningford and the rea- son for our being there, and he came into the room with a rather perturbed expres- sion of countenance, as if he hoped he were not going to be mixed up with the affair. I left Ben to be the spokesman, and ac+ cordii he began: wWeobave taken tlie liberty of calling to see you, Dr. Stone, in the interests of jus- tice. There was a robbery committed at The Gables, as doubtless you know all about, whilst the old baronet was lying ill, and whom, we understand, you attended on his deathbed. ‘That is true, Mr.—Mr.—,” said the doc- tor. “Crewe, at your service, sir,” interposed Ben. “Mr. Crewe! thank you; but I cannot see how my having attended Sir Henry in his jJast illness can have any bearing on the case. I was only there twice. I cannot possibly know anything about the robbery!” “Perhaps not, sir,” said Ben, “but I con- clude that you know what Sir Henry died of.” 5 SS oe Stone looked startled—almost fright- ened. “Of course, Ido! He died of paralysis of ee I gave a certificate to that ef- rec! “We've heard as much,” said Ben, “but are you certain that was the only cause of death?” what have you got in } further, Dr. Stoni “As certain as I am that I sit here, Mr. Crewe!” “And what did it arise from?_ Lady Elles- mere says the baronet was well and hearty the week before!” “She is right. Sir Henry was a remark- ably hale man for his time of life. But he received a terrible shock at the quarrel with his son, and {t acted on his system in a deplorable manner. It is not elways pos- sible to account for such things. They are attributable to the state of temperament in which they find their victims. Had that quarrel not taken place, Sir Henry might have lasted for the next twenty years—as it was, it killed him. He never rallied after the attack.” “And nothing else but the shock could have accounted for his symptoms?” in- quired Ben. “I do not understand you, Mr. Crewe.” | “Then, to put it more plainly, is it quite impossible that the late baronet may have been subjected to foul play—that similsr symptoms might not have presented them- selves on the administration of a noxious drug, for example?” “Good God! Mr. Crewe, such an idea never entered my head! Who would have thought of such a thing? Whom do you suspect of so terrible a crime?” “It’s not our business to'tell you anything We_come here to ask you a simple question. Could the symptoms shown by the late baronet be produced by the administration of any poison? Will you give us a Straightforward answer?” PART VI. The doctor was trembling visibly as he replied: “Well, certainly, there are narcotic poi- sons, the action of which is to paralyze the limbs and speech, and if admf large quantities, would prove atien t mind you, I am only giving ou this information under protest and Ithout the siightest suspicion that any such drug, or any poisonous matter at all, 3 given to the late baronet—in fact, I m certain there was not, and that he died natural death, or eise I should not have given the certificate I did. “We feel assured of that, sir, but in the Interest of justice, w e bound to stop at nothing. We intend to demand an exhuma- on of the late onet’s body, and shall require your assi: ¢ in the mater!” tor sat down, shaking jroin head to foot. An exhumation—and of one of his own patients! Such a thing had never been Feard of in Manningford before! It would be a scandal—a diser2ce—he would have done anything in his power to prevent it! ‘Rememi this expr on your own respon: ity! I will have othing to do with the matter! Sir Henry jesmere died from a stroke of paralys and nothing else! It will be iniquitous if be is disturbed from his last repose!” h! it won't hurt him,” said Ben, cheer- ‘and I don't think we shall need to trouble you any further, sir, either. I've took down your remarks in my little book, nk they wil! be sufficient. If not, to apply to you again. Good ug! And taking a polite leave, we d ourselves out of the doctor's prem- I can't ses the good of this, Ben, iroNed back to our inn " Tsald, “Whatever seem likely, it won't heip us on with our Jewel case. Only going out of the way, I eall it, for nothing!” You bide a bit, Jack,” was his reply. ‘I've got a little roundabout way, perhaps, but I know what I'm coming to! You're such an impetuous fellow. You haven't the patience to see a thing through!" “If I'd stopped as long as you do, to see a thing through,” I retorted, “I'd never caught those two rascsis, Mears and All- cock, at Chicag “Ceckadcodledoo!” cried Ben, and then I felt a bit ashamed of my bragging before ® man who was worth two of me. When I inderstood what Ben would be at, I want- ed to interview the little humpback again nce, but he said it wasn't necessary. ve got all out of her that I want,” he replied. “She struck the match and the fire is kindling all over me! But this will be a long business, Jack, and we must take Sir Charles into our confidence at once. Let us go on to The Gables, As soon as we met the baronet Ben star- tled me by saying: “Have you the certificate of Sir Henry's death, which was written by Dr. Stone, Sir Charles?” “It is, I believe, in the Mbrary drawer with other papers.” ‘ave you seen it yourself?” “I have only glanced at !t cursorily. I did not arrive here till an hour before the funeral. Lady Ellesmere, my stepmother, received the certificate from Dr. Stone for the benefit of the undertakers, and locked immediately afterward. “We shouid like to see it, if you have no objection, Sir Charles. “None in the world,” replied the young tan; “that is, if it can be of any possible use to you in tracing my property. he rang the bell, and desired a servant to fetch his burch of keys off his toilet table. In a few minutes the certificate was in Ben's bands. “On what day did place?” he asked. “On the 13th,” replied Sir Charles. “And when was the coffin closed “The day before, I believe,” was the an- swer; “at least my stepmother told me £0. At all events, I did not see my father again!” “Why ts this certificate then dated the 13th, sir? Can yon tell me that?” “TI had not noticed that it was, but It may have been because Dr. Stone was called away at the time of my father’s death and did not return till the morning of the fyneral.” “And consequenily did not see the body before giving the certificate?’ persisted Bi the funeral take I suppose so. But was that Informal? He knew perfectly well what Sir Henry died of. He had seen him at the first, but did not believe in his danger. I know noth- ing of such matters. I thought it was all right.” “Doubtless, Sir Charles, but Dr. Stone should have known better. However, he has rendered our task easicr. Busby and I, we are going to apply for an exhumation of the body.” “What! exclaimed the baronet, in a tone of horror, “you surely do not suspect—”" “We suspect nothing, Sir Charles, but It would be a satisfaction to us to view the body. It’s all in the matter of business, sir, and we hope you won't object.” “On the contrary, if there is likely to be any good in it I shall help you all In my power. What do you intend to do?” Then I put myself forward. “With your leave, Sir Charles, I shall stay here,” I said, “whilst Crewe goes back to London to make the application. I don't feel that my work is finished. T must take more soundings before I shall be satisfied that the jewels are not still in Manning- ford. “I feel convinced they are!” chimed in Ben. Of course, we had not confined our pre- cautions to the place itself. For miles around search had been made at pawn- brokers and all places where stolen goods were likely to be disposed of—and informa- tion of the loss, with a description of the article, had been sent to every seaport town and principal railway station In the king- dom. But no news of any sort had arrived | of it, or anything like it. I confess I was beginning to be fairly puzzled, and Ben's behavior puzzled me still more. “What in the name of all that’s holy,” I said to him, as soon as we were outside The Gables, “are your plans, Ben? What are you going to do next?” “You leave that to me, my boy,” he re- plied; “you don't approve of my action In the matter, so you stick to your own. You shail stay here and look for the jewels under the beds and fm the maids’ pockets, and I'll go up to town and get an order for an ex- humation of the old gentleman's carcass.” 27 ARENT HVENENG "STAWY 'S APURDAY FEBRUARY 88," 1896 WENT ENO BAGES, “Wha v” exclatmea the bnronet, tn a tone of horror. was what Ben thought, but how would the discovery of murder help us to find the Jah's heirloom? So I continued to keep a sharp eye on all the inkabitants of Man- ningford, whilst he was busy with his ap- Plicdtion’ to th® home secretary. This sort of things generally take some time, but at last the order came, and down came Ben with it to Marningford. There was a tremendous scene at The Gables when our intentions were made known. The widow protested against the disturbance of her late husband’s remains. She declared it was an outrage and an indecency, and she would not allow it. But Ben only winked his eye when she wasn’t looking, and as- sured her, sympathetically, that she hadn't a voice in the matter, and that government had a good reason for the demand. The dwarf, Miss Craley, who appeared to have gained some inkiing of what was about to happen, seemed delighted at the idea. She capered and screeched all day, constantly making signs with her hands that she wanted the earth removed from the coffin, and then pointing to her own mouth, and then to the dowager Lady Ellesmere, as though she would intimate that she had something to do with her beloved patron being put underground, unt! I really bezan to believe myself that Ben was right after all, and the widow had given the old gen- Ueman his quietus. And yet he had treated the idea of a lover with indifference. Aha! I said to myself, Ren may supplement the discovery with arother, but he'll find I'm right, after all, and that the jewels were taken by her and delivered over to an ac- complice—the one, doubtless, who helped her to hasten her husband's death. But the idea of that beautiful face and figure in the dock didn’t piease me, and I wished Ben hadn't been quite so sharp, but con- tented himseif with looking after the lost pro The exhumation was carried out very quietly. The fin was disinterred by i e1 to the mortuary chapel, two medical men besides Dr. Stone were prepared to examine ft. I and Ben, of course, being present, w $s Ellesmere. T felt the pro! ing of the beautiful widow up at The Gables and how it would fare with her if Ben suspicions correct. I have r t for women; I can't help it! It s terrible to me that they ever go Wrong, When there's So muc in euch one of them! Ag the coffin removed, I stepped forward, riously, rorpse. It was that was rather cu- f an att ed-up old maa, with a stern expres nee of the body was almo: the short time it had becn ground, but as the Joctors moved 1t about for the purpose of performing the post-mortem, the stench became unbearable, and I saw Sir Charles turn deadiy pale and make a bolt for the outer air. 1 was about to follow him, when I was startled by an exclamation from one of th he said, as he took 2 and held of jewels. same moment. “The rajah’s heirloom!” we cried simulta- ut however did It come here’ me, curiously Texclaimed, and “I can guess,” said Ben he dwarf!” It proved t> be true. Miss Craley, having upderstood the burcnet to threaten’ his son with the loss of the heirloom, and the dow- ager Lady Ellesmere tell Rachel Marks “Whyt what is thist” he «aid. that the jewels were hers, conceived the cunning idea to secure them for “harles y putting them in the coffin w: corpse, whence they might never have been disinterred had not both Ben and I gone on a wrong tack to find out the truth. A brief examination proved that Sir Hen- ry had died from natural causes, and the Vody was reburied with due solempity. But we cared little for the failure in that direc- tion. We had unearthed loom, and we kept the rest of the s ourselves. All our suspicions melted into thin air. Lady Ellesmere had not mur- dered her husband--she had never had a lever or an accomplice—she had not pur- Icined the jewels—we were almost re: to believe that she had been a devoted wife and stepmother! Sir Charles was delighted with the recovery of his property—the little dwarf screamed with pleasure when she saw it back again—and Ben and I wi laden with compliments and congratul: tions. So ended the robbery of the rajah’s heirloom. “Ben,” I said, solemnity, as we wended our way back to Scotland Yara to report proceedings, “Ben, don’t you think we had better smooth this matter over a little to the chief? We are considered the two sharp- est detectives in London, yet I made sure the dowager had purloined those jewels; and you made sure she had poisoned her husband—but we were both mistaken. 1 don’t understand it, but it is the case, isn’t it, now?” “Hum!—yes,”’ replied Ben, thoughtfully; “but we found the jewels, Jack, after ail, and that’s the main thing! “Trne—but now that we are alone, tell ™me, what was it that made you first think of exhuming the baronet’s body?’ Ben looked very grave. “TI can't tell you, Jack. I don’t know my- self. But sometimes there comes to me a knowledge—I can’t say from whom or from where, but it fixes itself upon my mind, and I can’t get rid of it until, rightly or wrongly, I have acted upon it. Don’t laugh at me, Jack, but as I stood by the crave with you, the first time we saw it, some- body said to me: ‘Disinter the body!’ Most of my lucky hits have come to me in that way. I wouldn't repeat it to everybody, but you'll respect my fancy, old chap, if It is a fency, and know that however rum it may seem, I am in earnest in telling it to you.” I looked at rovgh oid Ben, with his shag- gy beard and hard features, and thought he was a strange subject to be inspired. from whatever source his information may have come, but he was good and true ail through, and if the angels help any one in —_ earthly work, they may have helped im. But, in another hour I was in the little cottage at Fulham, and Nancy and the sup- per she had prepared for me put every- thing else out of my head. (The End.) ———— A Changed Man. From Brooklyn Life. Brown—“Is young Smith as great a spend- thrift as ever?” Jones—“By no means. His money ts sone.” & POWER W A NUTSHELL THE ESSENCE OF ENERGY, A Food Medicine Used by Troops ia Marching, by Athletes and by Invalids, Ta American army circles much interest hag been exiibited recently ta the qualities of a@ African nut, kuown botunically as sterculla, pre ducts of which are known in this cou! a Kolatra. This put has attracted wide attention in the scientific world on account of its remarkable tonic aud sustaining powers, which enables thom who use it to perform physical tasks otherwise Impossible. Already the armies of France aul Germany Lave used the product end hare fouall ‘that its extraordinary qualities have made it am indispensable adjunct to their equipment. ‘The reports concerning this nut und tts health giving qualities by the most famous of Germam and French physicians and scientists, tazether with the success scored in the use by the athictes of Yale “and otber colleges, are forcranpess whid& heralded Its introduction as Immediate and general, Certainly, 1f trese recent reports are trustworthy the success of the article is already assured. Its value te soldiers aod athletes resiilts trom the fact that t prevents fatigue and increases inuscular power, enabling the user to perform has@ and gainful tasks with ease. Superintendent Morgan of the Letter Carriers Division of the New York Post Office has recom tended a thorough test of the extract by the army of letter carriers of the New York Post Office, In accordance with Superintendent Mongan's sug gestion, John M. Parsons, president of the Letter Carriers’ Association, has conducted tests which have been attended with the most satisfactory re sults. “I have tried Vino-Kolafra,” suid Mz, Morgan, “and have found it to be unfonlitedis @ good thing. We have letter cnrriers in the New York Post Office engaged tn collection work wip have to make eight trips a day, of sixty blocks per trip, or twenty-four aniles @aiiy. These carriew have more arduous work to do at the present time than soldiers, and, therefore, Vino-Kolafra {® just the thing for them. It is especially valuable fer letter carriers with Jong routes, on eccount of Mim sustaining properties, but, of course, It is of valum to all who do any bard work. Kolafra appears to be a non-tntoxteating stimu lant, which difers from otber stimulants in that ft adds xt once to the sum total of nervens form available for use, instead of merely ful for the requircinents of tomorrow, words, mo reaction attends tts use. epost, not a discounted draft. In the form of Vino-Kolafra ft conserves, not merely shifts energy; tt becomes a fly wheel to the human engine, restratning the excessive action @ the superexcited and bringing the sluggish up tow 1 speed. For tuls rersun the medical Journals are recom ing Its use to the wenk, exhausted and com In other it is a com ent. In addition, it acts as a pr antl- dote to ihe effects of alcohol und sat!stics rae ing for iquor and for monpuine, without any injurious effects. no Qualities render $t useful to the invalid afr, the most convenient form of preparing the gut in order to preserve its full lant and tonle value, are indicated by te New England Medical Monthly states edt “The medical profession In these see long recognized in It a great aid in per foruing feats of labor, tests of strenrth or sum tulning life in disease. Aside from its value 9 the wrain and muscle worker, it 1s invaluable the stek room; it helps tide over the crisis erse and sustains the strength of a discr system. In shocks due to a operations, syneope or fright it ts @ jue, and will prove the surgeon's friend ian's, In nervons pros’ nervous irritation It is of 4 nable efficacious in cardiac affectiogs, expec beart."* The Quarterly Therapeutic Review enys of the sterculia (betanicul name) nut: “It ts said to re move clreclly the stupidity aud ansteadiness of Grunkenuess. Tt is an excellent nerve tonic emf Will enable a man to go without food and support Ereat fatigne for twenty-four hours or more. It @ wonderful tonic and stimulant. When used rage ularly sivep ts sound and restful, while @ fecllag matism, of br 68 and activity ts prevalent during the waking hovrs, It ts a cardiac and cerclral stimm lant. In migraine and nervous headaches it baw been repeatedly proved to be beneficial, Its re ra sults in the treatment of nx wnia, @iarrboem and seasickness Lave been good. In torpulity of the liver {t excites that organ and accelerates the flow of bile, In Indigestion {t promotes alimentstion typ dissolving the mucous clots and removing debriy In short, it Is the safety valve restorlag from the intestines. of bodily mechanism, preserving and energy and utilizing tissue waste. In t fers vastly from all other beve Dr. E. B. Smith, president of the Wayne Cnty Medical Society, says: “It augments tl of the digestive fluids. It helps tn overcoming thm Indigestion common to @runkards, and is of ex- ceptional value in delirium tremens.”* Professor Edourid Heckel of the Paris Medical Faculty says: ‘Tits seed fs an intestinal toule wit parellel. It is the greatest gastro-inies tinal tonic that tne therapeutic arsenal can in the bunds of its practitioners.” He recom its tse ta tubercular diarrhoea, where ther intestinal ulceration. s Geucral Alexander Stephen, British Consul Brazil, in comparing the physical merits » West African negro and the Brazilian mrzra, tthe great powers endurance ang h of the African, exhibited in lifting and ‘trausporting heavy londs, pass all efforts on the part of the Brazilian. For instance, where it takes fonr African porters carry it they ascend a Mil and j whole time as they tradge along. As the discharge ling of vessels is paid for by welght, the Africam } gang, which has less hands, earns twice as much, and while they hoard and eave, the Brazilian porter lives from banu to month, spending bis money for rum, in the vain belief that it Sts him for bis luborions task, while the African invests bis spend- ing nlowance in ceeds of the sterculin, which are not intoxicating, act as a nutritive, quench thirst and produce vigor and frestnces. Dr. Cyrus Béson, formerly presitent of the New York Health Board, in the New York Tribune of Oct. 26, says of this remedy: “I have used it tm my practice for over a year and @ half to bridge over that frequent gap in treatment which ts met with in cases of proonged illness. Of all the stim: lants known It Is the most powerful amd is at the same tine abyolntely harmless. In cases of acute Avspepsia, In ccavalescence, ete., It has been worth its weight in gold.” In the same article Dr. J. G. Johnson, a prom- inent Brooklyn Heights phystclam, says: “I lave been familiar with the virtues of this mut for some time, but it is only recently that I have beam uble to procure a reliable preparation of it. It known as Vino-Kolafra, and is manufactured with great care hy the firm of Jobuson & Johnson, OF No. 92 William street, New York. It gives prompt and permanent strength to the body, ts an aid to tise digestion and a counteractive to malaria powerful nerve tonfe and sedative; epee tonic for men past middle Ife it is w equal.” Jonnson & Jobnson are the chemists who fur nished the experimental samples for the use of the army and navy authorities. They have bestowed great attention upon thelr Vino-Kolafra, now belug so lurgcly sold through druggists in all parts of the couniry. = — = = == Heman After 41. From the Giicago Tritume. First Reputable Citizen—“It will be a great triumph for law and decency if the suthori- ties succeed in stopping that disgraceful prize fight.” Second Reputable Citizen—“That’s what it will! I hope they can prevent it. There would be some satisfaction, though, !f the two brutes could meet somewhere and kill each other.” “Sull, if they should have a fight I believe Maher would whip. He's the younger of the two and—” “I know it, but look at Fitzsimmons’ muscular development. He has the most enormous chest and shoulders a man of his size ever—" “Bosh! Do you know Maher can strike a blow that registers——" “Say, Til bet you a fifty that Lanky Bol ‘knocks him out i two rounds!” “Tl go you!”