Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, July 19, 1902, Page 2

CHAPTER XXIII. (Continued.) Henson chuckled. The noise was in- fended to convey amused contempt, and f¢ had that effect so far as Littimer was concerned. it was well for Henson that the latter 2ould not see the strained anxiety of his face. The man was alert and quivering with excitement in evo7y fimb. Still, he chuckled again, as if the whole thing merely amused him. “fhe Crimson Blind’ is Van Sneck's weak spot,” he said. “It is King Charles’ head to him. By good or bad luck—it is in your hands to say which —you know all about the way in which ft became necessary to get Hatherly Bell on our sid All the same, the Rembrandt — the other one—is de- ‘stroyed.” “Van Sneck has seen the picture,” Littimer said, doggedly. “Oh, play the farce out to the end,” fienson laughed, good-humoredly. “Where did he see it?” “He says he saw it at No. 218 Bruns- wick Square. Henson's knees suddenly came up to his nose, then he lay quite flat again for @ long time. His face had grown white once more, his lips bloodless. Fear was written all over him. A more astute man than Littimer would have seen the beads standing out on his fore- head. It was some little time before he dared trust himself to speak again. “{ know the house you mean, “It #s mext door to che temporary residence of my esteemed friend, Gilead Gates. At the present moment the place {s woid—" \ “And has been ever since your bogus ‘Home’ broke up. Years ago, before you used your power to rob and op- ‘Eress us as you do now, you had a Home there. You collected subscrip- tions right and left in the Reverend Felix Crosbie, and you put the money fm your pocket. A certain weekly jour- mal exposed you, and you had to leave euddenly or you would have found yourself in the hands cf the police. ‘You skipped so suddenly that you had ‘no time even to think of your persona\ effects, which you understood were sold to defray expenses. But they were not wold, as nobody cared to throw good money after bad. Van Sneck got in with the agent under pretence of view- fr.g the house, and he saw the picture there.” “Why didn’t he take it with him?” ‘Henson asked, with amused scorn. He was master of himself again and had his nerves well under control. «Well, that was hardly like Van Sneck. Our friend is nothing if not diplomatic. But when he did manage to get into the house again the picture ‘was gone.” “Excellent’’ Henson cried. “How dramatic! There is only one thing re- quired to ‘complete the story. The pic- ture was taken away by Hatherly Bell. rf you don’t bring that in as the denoue- ment I shall be utterly disappointed.” “You ne2dn't be.” Littimer said cool- ly. “That is exactly what did happen.” Henson chuckled again, quite a paro- 4y of a chuckle this time. He could detect the quiet suggestion of triumph in Littimer’s voice. “Did Van Sneck tell you all this?” he asked. “Not the latter part of it,” Lit mer replied, “seeing that he w: fm the hospital when it happened. But I know ft is true because I saw Bell and David Steele, the novelist, come away from the house, and Bell had the ~picture under his arm. And that’s why ‘Van Sneck’s agent couldn't find it the second time he went. Check to you, my friend, at any rate. Bell will go to my father with Rembrandt number two end compare it with number one. And vthen the fat will be in the fire.” Henson yawned affectedly. All the wame fe was terribly disturbed and ehaken. All he wanted now was to be alone and to think. So far as he conld tell, nobody besides Littimer knew anything 3f the matter. And no starved, cowed, broken-hearted puppy was ever closer under the heel of his master than Littimer. He still held ail the cards; he still controlled the fortunes of two ill-starred houses. “You can leave me now,” he said. “Ym tired. I have had a trying day, and I need sleev; and the sooner you are out of the house the better. For your own sake, and for the sake of those about you, vou need not say one ‘word of this to Enid Henson. Littimer promised meekly enough. With those eyes blazing upon him he would have promised anything, We ‘hkafl see presently what a stupendous terror Henson had over the younger man, and in what way all the sweet- mess and savour of life was being rushed out of Lim. He closed the door behind him and fmmediat2ly Henson sat up in bed. He reached for his handkerchief and wiped the hig beads from his forehead. “So the danger has come at last,” he ecuttered. “I am face to face with it, end I knew I should be, Hatherly Bell {s not the man to quietly lie down wmnder a cloud like that. The man has ‘rains, and patience, and indomitable ecurage. Now, does he suspect that IT thave any ‘and in the business? 1 «cust see him when my neryes are e@tronger and try and get at the truth. If he goes to Lord Littimer with that picture he shakes my power and my position perilously. What a fool I was ‘rgt fo get it away. But, then, I only e€sc2yx. irom the Brighton police {fn those doys by the skin of my teeth. ‘And they had followed me from Hud- Gersfield like those cursed bloodhounds here. I wonder—” He paused as the brilliant outline of some cunning scheme occurred to him. A thin, cruel smile crept over his lips. INever had he been in a tight place yet without discovering a loophole of es- «ape almost before he had seen the A fic of noiseless laughter shook him. “Splendid,” he whispered. “Worthy waft Mechiavelli himself! Previded al- By Fred M. White Af 1 ways that I can get there first. ceuld only see Bell's face afterwards, hear Tittimer ordering him off the premises. The only question is, am I up to seeing the thing through?” CHAPTER XXIV. Enid Learns Something. Reginald Henson struggeled out. of bed and into his clothes as best he could.* He was terribly weak and shaky, far more weak than he had im- agined himself to be, but he was in danger now, and his indomitable will- power pulled him through. What a fool Littimer had been to tell him so tuch, merely that he might triumph over his powerful foe for a few min- utes. But Henson was planning a lit- tle scheme by which he intended to re- pay the young man tenfold. He had po doubt as to the willingness of his tool. He took a bottle of brandy from a drawer and helped himself to a liberal dose. Walker had expressly forbidden anything of the kind, but it was no time for nice medical obedience. The grateful stimulant had its immediate effect. Then Henson rang the bell, and after a time Wilson appeared, tardily. “You are to go down to Barnes and tell him to 3end a cab here as soon as possible,” Henson said. “I have to go to London by the first train in the morning.” Wilson nodded, with his mouth wide open. He was astonished and not a little alarmed at the strength and vi- tality of the man. And only a few hours before Williams had learned, with deep satisfaction, that Henson would be confined to his bed for some days, Henson dressed at lengih and packed a small portmanteau. But he had to sit on his bed for some little time, and sip a further dose of brandy before he could move further. After all, there was no hurry. A full hour was sure to elapse before the leisurely Barnes brought the cab to the ledge gates. Henson crept.down stairs at length, and trod his catlike way to the library. Once there, he proceeded to make a minute inspection of the telephone. He turned the handle just the fragment of an inch, and a queer smile came over his face. Then he crept as silently up stairs, opened the window of the bath room quietly and slipped out on to the leads. There were a couple of insulat- ors here, against the wire of one of which Henson tapped his knuckles gently. 'W@ wire gave back an an- swering twang. The other jangled, limp and loose. “One of the wires cut," Henson mut- tered. “I expected as much. Madame Enid is getting a deal too clever. I suppose this is some suggestion of her very astute friend, David Steel. W I have given Mr. Steel one lesson in minding his own business, and if he in- terferes further I shall have to give him another. He will be in gaol before long, charged with attempted murder and robbery, with violence, and so exit Steele. After that the girl will be per- haps chary of seeking outside assist- ance. And this will be the third I have had to get rid of. Heavens! How fee- ble I feel, how weak I am! And yet I must go through this thing now!” He staggered into the house again and dropped into a chair. There was a loud buzzing in his ears, so that he could hardly hear the murmur of voices in the drawing room below. This was annoying, because Henson liked to hear everything that other folks said. Then he dropped off into a kind of dreamy state, coming ‘back, presently, to the consciousness that he had fainted. Meanwhile, Frank Littimer had joined Enid in the drawing room. The house was perfectly quiet and still by this time; the dust-cloud hung on the air and caused the ‘amps to burn with a spitting blue flame. Enid’s face looked deadly pale against her black dress. “So you have been seeing Reginald,” she said. ‘“Why—why did you do it?” “I didn’t mean to,” Frank muttered. “I never intended him to know that I had been in the house at all. But I was passing bis room and he heard mo. he seemed to know my footsteps. I be- lieve if two mice ran by him twice 'n the darkness he could tell the differ- ence between them.” “You had an interesting conversa- tion, What did he want to use the tel- one for?” “T don’t know. I tried to manipulate it for him, but the instrument was out of order.” “I know. I had a pretty shrewd idea of what our cousin was going to do. You see, I was iistening at the door. Not a very ladylike thing to do, but one must fight Henson with his own tools. When I heard him ask for tho telephone directory I ran out and nip- ned one of the wires by the bath room. Frank, it would have been far wiser ‘f you hadn’t come.” Littimer nodd.d, gloomily. There was something like tears in his eyes. “I know it,” he said. “I hate the place and its dreadful associations. But I wanted to see Chris first. Dil she sey anything about me before—be- fore—" “My dear boy, she loved you, always. She knew and understood, and was sorry. And she never, never forgot the last time you were in the house.” Frank Littimer glanced around the room with a shudder. His eyes dwelt with fascination on the overturned ta- ple, with it broken china and glass and wilted flowers In the corner. “It is not the kind of thing to for- get.” he said, hoarsely. “I can see my father now—" “Don't!” Enid shuddered, don’t re- cally it. And your mother has never been the same since. I doubt if she ever will be the same- again. that day to this nothing has ever been touched in the house. And Henson comes here when he can and makes our lives hileous to us.” “I fancy I shook him up to-night,’”’ Littimer said, with subdued triumph. “He seemed to shudder when I told him that I had found Van Sneck.” Enid started from her chair. Her eyes were shining with the sudden bril- liancy of unveiled stars, “You have found Van Sneck!” she whispered. ‘Where?’ “Why, in the Brighton hospital. Do you mean to say that you don’t know about it, that you don’t know that the man found so mysteriously in Mr. Da- vid Steel’s house and Van Sneck are cne and the same person?” Enid resumed her seat again. ‘vas calm enough now. “Tt had not occurred to me,” she said. “Indeed, I don’t know why it should rave done. Sooner or later, of course, I should have suggested to Mr. Steel to try and identify the man, but—” “My dear Enid, what on earth are you talking about?” “Nonsense,” Enid said, in confusion “Things you don’t understand at pres- ent, and things you are not going to understand just yet. I read in the pa- pers that the man was quite a strang- er to Mr. Steel. But are you certain that it Is Van Sneck?” “Absolutely certain. I went to the hospital and identified him.” “Then there is no more to be said on that point. Put you were foolish to tell Reginaid.” “Not a bit of it. Why, Henson has known it all along. You needn't get excited. He is a deep fellow, and no- body knows better than he how to dis- guise his feelings. All the same, he was just mad to know what I had dis- covered. You could sce it in his face. Reginald Henson—” Littimer paused, opén-mouthed, for Henson, dressed and wrapped ready for the journey, had come quietly into the drawing room. The deadly pallor of his face, the white bandages about his throat, only served to render his appearance more emphatic and impos- ing. He stood there, with the halo of dust about nim, looking like the evil genius of the place. “I fear 1 startled you,” he said, with a sardonic smile. ‘And I fear that, in the stillness of the place, I have over- heard a great part of your conversa- tion. Frank, I must congratulate you on your discretion, so far. But seeing that you are young and impressionable, I am going to move temptation out of your way. Enid, I am going on a jour- ney.” “T trust that it is a long one, and that it will detain you for a considor- able period,” Enid said, coldly. “Tt is neither far, nor is it likely to keep me,” Henson smiled. ‘Williams has just come in with the information that the cab awaits me at the gate. Now, then!” The last words were flung at Litti- mer with contemptuous command. The hot blood flared into the young man’s face. Enid’s eyes flashed. > “If my cousin likes to stay here,” she said, ‘“‘why—” “He is coming with me!” Henson said, hoarsely. “Do you understand? With me! And if I like to drag him— or you, my pretty lady—to the end of the world or the gates of perdition, you will have to come. Now, get along, before I compel you!” Enid stood, with fury in her eyes and clenched hands, as Litfimer . slunk away out of the house, Henson follow- ing between his victim and Williams. He said no words until the lodge gates were passed and the growl of the dogs died in the distance. “We are going to Littimer Castle,” said Henson. “Not there!” Littimer groaned—‘not there, Henson! I couldn’t—I couldn't go to that place’! Herson pointed towards the cab. “Littimer or perdition!” he said. “You don’t want to go to the latter just yet? Jump in, then’!’ She CHAPTER XXV. Littimer Castle. If you had asked the first five people on the Littimer estate what they thought of the lord of the soil, you would have had a different answer from everone. One woman would have said that a kinder and better man nev- er lived; her neighbor would have de- clared Lord Littimer to be as hard as the nether millstone. Farmer George would have rated him a jolly good fel- low, and tell how he would sit in the kitchen over a mug of ale; while Farmer John swore at his landlord as a hard-fisted, grasping miser, devoid of the bowels of compassion. At the end of an hour you would be utterly bewildered, not knowing what to believe, and prepared to set the whole village down as a lot of gossips. who seemed to mind everything but its own business. And perhaps Lord Littimer might come riding through on his big black horse, small, lithe, brown as mahogany, and with an eye piercing as a diamond drill. One day he looked almost boyishly young, there would be a smile on his tanned face. And then another day ne woula be bent in the saddle. huddled up, wizened, an old, old man, crushed with the weight of years and sorrow. In sooth, he was a man of moods and contradictions, changeable as an April sky, and none the less quick-tempered and hard because he knew that every- body was terribly afraid of him. And he had a tongue, too, a lashing, cut- ting tongu3, that burned and blistered. | Sometimes he would be quite meek and angry under the reproaches of the vicar, and yet the same day history records it that he got off his horse and administered a sound thrashing to the village poacher. Sometimes he got the best of the vicar, and sometimes that worthy man scored. They were good friends, these two, though the vicar never swerved in his fealty to Lady Littimer, whose cause he always championed. But nobody seemed to know anything about that dark scan- dal. They knew that there had been a dreadful scene at the castle seven years before, and that Lady Littimer and her son had left never to return. Lady Littimer was in a madhouse somewhere, they said, and the son wes a wanderer on the face of the earth. And when Lord Littimer died every penny of the property, the castle in- cluded, would go to her ladyship’s nephew, Mr. Reginald Henson, In’ spite of the great cloud that hung over the famfly, Lord Litttmer did not seem to have)changed. He was just a little more caustic than ever, his tongue a little sharper. The servants couid have told a different story, a story of dark moods and days when the bitter- ness of the shadow of death lay, on their master. Few men could carry their grief better, and because Litti- mer carried his grief so well he suf- fered the more. We shall see what that sorrow was in time. There are few more beautiful places in England than Littimer Castle. The house stood on a kind of natural plat- eau, with many woods behind, a trout stream ran clean past the big flight of steps leading to the hall, below were terrace after terrace of hanging gar- Gens, and to the left a sloping, ragged drop of two hundred feet into the sea. To the left lay a magnificently-tim- bered park with a herd of real wild deer—perhaps the only herd of the kind in the country. When the sun shone on the gray’ walls they looked as if they had been painted by some cun- ning hand, so softly were the grays, reds and blues blended. Inside the place was a veritable art gallery. There were hundreds of pic- ‘tures and engravings there. All around the grand staircase ran a long, deep corridor, filled with pictures. There were alcoves here fitted up as sitting rooms, and in most of them some gem or another was hung. When the full flood of electric light was turned on at night the effect was almost dazzling. ‘There were few pictures in the gallery without a history. Lord Littimer had many hobbies, but not one that interested him like this. ‘There were hundreds of rare birds shot by him in different parts of the world; the corridors and floors were covered by skins the spoil of his rifle; here and there a stuffed bear pranced startling- ly; but the pictures and prints were the great amusements of his lordship’s lonely life. He passed along the corridor now towards the great oriel window at the end. A brilliant sunlight filled the place with ‘shafts of golden and blue and purple, as it filtered through the stained glass. At a table in the win- dcw a girl sat working a typewriter. She might have passed for beautiful, enly her hair was banded down in hid- eously-Puritan fashion on each side of her delicate, oval face, and her eyes were shielded by spectacles. But they were lovely, steady, courageous blue eyes, as Littimer did not fail to’ ob serve. Also, he had not failed to note that his new secretary could do very well without the glasses. The typewriter and secretary busi- ness was a new whim of Littimer’s. He want2i an assistant to catalogue and classify his pictures and prints, and he had told the vicar so. He want- ed a girl who wasn’t a fool, a girl who could amuse him and wouldn't be afraid of him, and he thought he would have an American. To which the vi- car responied that the whole thing was nonsense, but he had heard of a Boston girl in England who had a pas- sion for that kind of thing, and who was looking for a situation of the kind in a genuine old house for a year or so. The vicar added that he had not seen the young lady, but he coufd ob- tain her address. A reply came in due course, a reply that so pleased the im- petuous earl that he engaged the ap- plicant on the spot. And now she had been just two hours in the house. “Well,” Littimer cried, “and how have you been getting on? Miss Cristabel Lee looked up, smil- ingly. “T am getting on very well, indeed,” she said, “You see, I have made a study 6f this kind of thing all my life- time, and most of your pictures are like old friends to me. Do you know, I farcy that you and I are going to man- age very well together?” “Oh, do you? They say I am pretty formidable at times.” “T shan’t mind that a bit. You see, my father was a man with a villainous temper. But a woman can always get the better of a bad-tempered man, un- less he happens to be one of the lower class who uses his boots. If he is a gentleman you have him entirely at your mercy. Have you a sharp tongue?” “J flatter myself that I can be pretty blistering on occasions,” Littimer sata, grimly. “How delightful! SocanI. You and I will have some famous battles later on, Only I warn you that I never lose my temper, which gives me a tremen- dous advantage. I havén’t been very well lately, so you must be nice to me for a week or two.” Littimer smiled and nodded. The grim lord of the castle was not accus- tomed to this kind of thing, and he was telling himself that he rather liked it. “And now show me the Rembrandt,” Miss Lee said, impatiently. Littimer led the way to a distant al- cove, lighted from the side by a lat- ticed window. There was only one pic- ture in tHe excellent light there, and that was the famous Rembrandt en- graving. Littimer’s eyes lighted up lovingly as they rested upon it. The Florentine frame was hung so low that Miss Lee could bring her face on a lev- el with it. “This ts the picture that was stolen from you?” she asked. “Yes, that’s the thing that there was all the fuss about. It made a great stir at the time. But I don’t expect that it will happen again.” “Why not?” Miss Lee asked. ‘When an attempt of that sort is made it is usually followed by another, sometimes after the lapse of years. Anybody get- ting through that window could easily get the frame from its two nails and take out the paper.” “Do you think so?” Littimer asked, uneasily. “T am certain of it. Take my ad- vice and make it secure. The panels behind are hard wood—thick black oak. Lord Littimer, I am going to get four prass-headed stays and drive them through some of the open ornamental work,.so as to make the picture quite secure. It is an iron frame, I sup- pose?” “Wrought-iron gilt,” said Littimer. “Yes, one could easily drive four brass- headed stays through the open work and make the thing safe. I'll have to see to it.” But Miss Lee insisted that there was no time like the present. She had dis- covered that Littimer had an excellent carpenter's shop on the premises; in- deed, she admitted to being no mean performer with the lathe herself. She ‘flitted down the stairs light as thistle- down, “A charming girl,” Littimer said, cynically. “I wonder why she came t¢ this dull hole. A quarrel with somé young man, perhaps. If I were a young man myself I might—. But womer are all the same. I should be a hap- pier man if I had never trusted one CS ena The: face darkened; a heavy scow. lined his brows as he paced up ané down. Christabel came back present: ly with hammer and some brass-head- ed stays in her hand. “Don’t utterly destroy the frame,” Littimer said, resignedly. “It is re- puted to be Quentin Matsy’s work, and I had it cut to its present fashion. I'l go to the end of the gallery until thé éxecution’s over.” “On the contrary,” Miss Lee said, firmly, “you will stay where you are told.” A little to his own surprise, Littimer remained. He say the nails driven firmly in and finished off with a punch, so that there might be no danger of hammering the exquisitely-wrought frame. Miss Lee stood regarding her work with a suggestion of pride. “There,” she said. “I flatter myself a carpenter could have done no bet- ter.” “You don’t know our typical carpen- ter.” Littimer said. ‘Here is Tredwell with a telegram. For Miss Lee? 1 hope it isn’t an intimation that some relative has died and left you a for- tune. At least, if it is. you mustn’t ge until we’ve had one of those quarrels yon promised me.” Christabel glaced at the telezram and slipped it into her pocket. There were just a few words in the telegram that would have been unintelligible te the ordinary understanding. The girl did not even comprehend, but Litti- mer’s eyes were upon her and the ci- pher had to keep for a time. Littimer walked away at an intimation that his steward desired to see him. (To be Continued) CHINESE BRIDES WEAR RED. Color Prevails in Nuntial Garments and Decorations of the House. Red is the nuptial color in China. The coolies that carry the bride in her litter are dressed in red. and they bear a dwarf orange tree loaded with fruit and coin. The. bride’s compartments are finished in red trimmings, presents are eairied on red trays, the banners borne in the procession are originally crim- sen, which are brightened by the rosy glow of the lanterns. Red umbrellas are carried, and the {illuminated si blaze with color: The canopy itself is decorated according to the wealth and th: taste of the bride’s family, A poor woman is carried to her wed- ding feast in a plain chair painted re. If the family has wealth or rank the palaquin is very ornate, decorated with dragon heads. The Chinse skill in working silk or gold cord is displayed in an artistic manner. When the bride appears she wears a red veil, and th letters to her ancestors, whose blessing is invoked, are written on red paper. The bride gen2rally wears a crown adorned with tinsei and mock jewels— an idea which is much more prevalent in Sweden.—Woman’s home companion. “Axed Hix Pardin.” Ex-Gov. Hoge Tyler of Virginia, whose term expired in December last, was especially enerous in granting pardons. From many of them he de- rived much pleasure in the gratitude of the unfortunates, and often received material for aa amusing story. One of these he tells was of a negro from Richmond, convicted of some slight of- ferse, who had convinced the goternor that he had peen sufficiently punished, and who was, accordingly, granted a pardon. The pardoned man’s young- er brother heard of his release before the ex-convict could reach home, and rushed to tell their mother the good news. “Oh! mammie!” he cried. “Bob’s dun got out, and ’s mos’ heah now.” “Bless de Lud!” exclaimed the moth- er; “but how'd he git out? He ain’t dun busted out, is he?” “Naw, mamm De guv’nor jist sint down and axed his rardin. an’ told him w York Times. Would Stggest Crucifixion. Jabez Spencer Falfour, first mayor of the flourishing town of Crowdon, near London, was afterwards convicted of extensive frauds. The second mayor was Hobbs, the contractor. who was associated with Mr. Balfour in schemes, and met with the :ame fate. The third mayor was Sir Frederick Edridge, who retained the office until recently. He was asked, a short time ago, why he had not presented his por- trait to the council. “There’s a vacant space between the portraits of Balfour and Hobbs,” he was informed. “I don’t care to have my picture there at present,” said Sir Frederick . “If they’ll remove the other portaraits, I'll have it put up. At present it would be too suggestive of the crucifixion.”— Gave It Up. A young woman of twenty-eight, upon returning home after a long absence, was greeted by her old mammy with: “An’ so, Miss Caroline, yer ain’t mar- ried yit?” “No, mammy, and I’ve about given up all hope.” _ “Well, honey, it’s powerful comfort- in’ when cease to struggle, but it will be mighty disappointin’ to yer maw.”—Lippincott's. Probably True. “Where did all these skeletons come trom?” asked the visitor at the medical college. “Can you keep a secret?” queried the medical. student. F “Sure thing,” replied the visitor. “Then I'll tell you,” said the embry M. D., and continued, in a loud whisper: “We raised ’em Chicago News. Mobbed. First College Girl—I hear you gtris mobbed the umpire at the class game? ‘Second College Girl—Yes! We called her a “mean old thing” and told her that she was “perfectly horrid.”—Puck. Premature. Goldstein—I understan’ dat you had a fire in your clodings store last night? Cohenstein—No; it von’t be until negxd veek—Ohio State Journal. i A Recipe for Bliss. 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