Evening Republican, Volume 14, Number 91, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 16 April 1910 — The Quest of Betty Lancey [ARTICLE]

The Quest of Betty Lancey

CHAPTER XXIV. Hackleye greeted Johnson’s rap with * nervous “Come in,” and exchanged a wan smile for Johnny friendly salutation. He had been writing and the table was strewn with piles of closely written‘manuscript. Johnny’s eyes fell upon the pages, and riveted there. That they .were the work of Hackleye’s pen was evident, and The writing was absolutely unlike that In the letters found addressed to Cerlsse Wayne! “Writing a book?” asked Johnny, as he sat down with an effort to be composed. “No, merely some Instructions as to what I want done with my estate, in case anything happens to me," answ-.r-ed Hackleye. “It’s on account of the children, you know.” “Don't let me bother you,” politely suggested Johnny, “if I interrupt I'll go.” “On the contrary I'm glad to have you,” replied Hackleye, "I’ve had a mournful morning, spending it among reliquaries. Would you like to see some of my memento.es?” He pulled out a deep drawer from the side of the table and began lifting out treasure after treasure. Folded in softest parchment was a long caressing curl of rust red hair, only too evidently cut from the head of his dead wife. Then there were pictures of her from babyhood to maturity. And letters — love notes—all in the same handwriting. There were odd gloves, delicately perfumed, with the strange odor that had permeated the Desterle home that wretched morning of tragedy and woe, cobwebby lace handkerchiefs, and a bunch of faded flowers. “Here is her wedding bonnet,” mused Hackleye. “See, here is a program of an exhibition day in the convent where she played and sang. She? had a voice like melted crystal. I worshipped her, made an idol of her, and I paid the penalty. I hope that death has brought her' peace—life never could have done so. My wife, by beloved wife!” . , “Hackleye,” said Johnny, placing his hand on the bowed head, “you didn’t kill her. I know it. Help us to And the man who did." Hackleye looked up. “You’re the first one who’s had any faith in me,” he answered, “except Francis, Le Malheureux as you call him, her brother, you know. Francis and I have tried to save her name.” "Why,” questioned Johnny, striking while the iron was hot, “why does De Malheureux ever walk among men thus veiled and concealed?” Hackleye shot Johnny a gasp of terror. “As you would not injure the gentlest soul that ever walked," he pleaded, “try, never try to probe that mystery. For your own peace of mind leave Le Malheureux alone.” “I spied on you last night,” confessed Johnny, “I followed you into that closet there, where you have all those x Images of your wife. I want to apologize for doing it.” “You needn’t,” returned Hackleye. "Worship her loveliness any time you wish, as I do always." “Do you know Harcourt," abruptly questioned the American. “No, I’ve never met him,” answered Hackleye. “I never knew who the man was that had stolen my wife’s heart from me. Cerlsse was clever and she covered her path we(l. I do know, though, that towards the end she seemed to grow tired of him. He waxed Insanely jealous of her towards the end. I think she was planning to leave him at the last. “Who do you think killed her?” queried Johnny, “or do you know?" “I did not lease that house at *94 Briarsweet place—the one where the passage way was found you know." I “Why, I saw you, saw you go through e passage way myself, the morning after the murder,” cried Johnny. “Yes, I know you did,” admitted Hackleye. “That was my second visit there. I was in there the morning that ♦they found the body. I had followed Le Malheureux there up through the hole In the wall. Mrs. Desterle saw me there when she burst in the door. Le Mauheureux and I had gone up to see Cerlsse. Le Malheureux had been there, before. He had traced her out and told me whore she was. I went expecting to find the living woman—l found, dead clay. When the policeman and Mrs. Desterle’s husband were .carrying her back to her bedroom,. I walked down the stairs and away from the houstff When I .reached my lodgings, whtre I was stamping under an assumed name. I discovered I had lost one of my garters. I went back that night and forced an entrance to the Flanders house, and climbed back into the bedroom through the hole in the wall. I looked for thq, garter but couldn’t find it I wanted it for sentiment’s sake, and lot because I was afraid of any incrimination that might result from it, as for years I have been practically unknown In civilized countries. And," with a whimsical smile, “I was frightened away, and in my haste to leave the Flanders house, I lose the mate to It out of my pocket." “And I found it right by the door to the house that Harnley Hackleye was supposed to have leased," said Johnny. "Was the Man-Aperilla in the room when you and Le Malheureux were?" came Johnny's final question. “I know of no such animal," said Hackleye. “And now, Mr. Johnson, I am tired. The strain of months is telling on me, do you mind if I beg to be •xcused?”

By MAGDA F. WEST

* CHAPTER XXV. There was no delay in the trial. Justice v had waited sufficiently long and demanded an airing immediately. The crush in the courtroom was fearful and a jury was polled before noon. The crux of the examination came at last. They sent for Mrs. Harcourt and brought her in, forcing her to keep her veil down till she was directly in front of the prisoner. Then her face was bared. Hackleye fell forward as if shot to the heart. “Cerlsse!” he exclaimed. “Cerisse, my wife, and alive!” X The cdurt-room rang with riot-. Vainly did the judicial gavel rap for order, and the bailiffs seek to eject the most unruly. "The public nerve had been at too high a tension for tod long. With Hackleye’s return to self-control, comparative calm was restored. Mrs. Harcourt approached him very gently, and spoke! for the first time, "Are you not mistaken? Are you not mistaken?” she asked. “Look again. I never saw your wife when she was alive, but I believe we are very like each other.” At the sound of her voice, Hackleye was himself again. ; “No, you’re not the same,” he assented. “But it is strange, miraculous. Who are you ?” “I am the woman who married Harold Harcourt,” she replied, rather sadly, and at a sign from the judge left the room. They brought Harcourt in next and asked Hackleye if he knfew him. “I never saw him befpre,” replied the defendant. "Who is he?” “Tell him,” said the judge. Harcourt, ' cringing and fearful, • stammered dut his name. Hackleye gripped the witness chair hard. “You’d better! go away from me,” he said, peculiarly. “I have not committed murder yet, for my children’s sake, but I might.” “That is all, your honor,” said the jirosecution, “we are through with the witness.” Mrs. Harcourt took the stand. Her testimony divulged nothing new. Mark S. Flanders, who leased the house to the supposed Harnley Hackleye, asserted he had never seen his tenant, that the whole operation had been by let- t ter, accompanied by New York exchange to cover the rent for three' months, and that the lease when signed in duplicated by “Harnley Hackleye,” had never been seen by him, Flanders, till after his return from Europe. Hackleye was recalled to the stand. “You say that Francis Wayne, brother of the murdered woman, whose whereabouts you declare you do not know, had visited the room previously to the morning of her death?” “So I understood,” answered Hackleye. “Why?” “Well, he called upon me at my lodgings and said that he knew where Cerlsse was, and that if I wished to see her he would show me how to get to her. On numerous other occasions I had met up with her, but she always declined tq see me. Francis took me over to the street known as Briarsweet place. He had a latchkey to the front door —at No. 94. I think it was a skeleton key, but he is an artificer of uncommon skill, so I do not know. He let me in. There seemed to be no one at home, in the Flanders house. We went into the library, and he lifted down a brass plaque from the wall. We had great difficulty in crawling through the hole, as the panel stuck. When we got in there we found my wife dead. It was evident, too, that she had not occupied the room alone.” “Could Francis Wayne have leased this house in your name?” asked the Court. ♦ “I hardly think so,” replied Hamley. “In fact, I am positive he did not.” “Do you think he killed his sister?” asked* the Court again. “I am positive he did not” *What reason had he for surreptitiously following his sister. Was he afraid you would kill her?” “I do not know as to that. I think his object was to try and persuade her to return home to her children." Mrs. Dr. Fothergill then testified. “The morning after I had examined Mrs. Harcourt at the hospital and noted what seemed to me to be indications of this particular form of loco poisoning, I obtained permission to visit the room formerly occupied by Mrs. Wayne. It was practically untouched, and a glass stood on the washstand. I took it away with me, giving the police due notification that I had done so, and when at Tiome rinsed it thoroughly with water and a slight percentage of alcohol, as his latter solvent has a marked affinity for loco in any form. The analysis of this solution showed it to be highly charged with powdered loco root On mere woman’s intuition and my own initiative, I sought further. Undoubtedly the loco root was dropped intq the glass of water and later MrS. Wayne either wittingly or unwittingly drank IL” "Will you tell the court your diagnosis of the ailment of Mrs. Harcourt.” 'A bad case of poisoning from the male loco blossoms. Her present state of health is attributable only rigoroqs treatment of morpl Ire Mid female loco blossoms which iri * was subjected. The powders in ex»e were dispensed to her daily by h»? husband, so she claims, tn fact empl es at the hotel saw him give them tl her more than once. They are th* concentrated essence of the male blosSlm of this noxious plant. I should say , J.; T. f* "■ ’ '*• x *

she had been kept under the Influence of this drug about five years. ?Chose two parchment bags filled with white powder there, contain more of the same drugj. Thejr were discovered in Mr. Harcourt’s luggage.” o "And your opinion then is?” “My opinion is,” slowly stated Dr. jpothergill, "and I deduce it from scieri-' title facts and analyses, that Harold Jlarcourt not only kept his wife under the influence of loco for years, but that he employes this pestilential product as a means to kill Narcisse Wayne Hackleye.” CHAPTER XXVI. .a The second morning after the critical day when Dr. Fothergill had made her startling statements about the loco root found the case at a standstill. Each side was waiting for the other, and-for a half hour after court had opened there was nothing doing save a pother among the attorneys. “Your honor,” it spoke, “I am Francis /Wayne, the brother of the dead woman whose death you are trying to probe.” “Le Malheureux!” exclaimed Johnson and Larry Morris in a breath. The figure bowed to them and turned again to the judge. “If your honor please,” said Le Malheureux, “with all apologies for my tardiness "and for myself, I would like to tell my story. In this wallet are the documents of proof. “My story is my father’s shame. His name was John Francis Wayne, and he was* the son of Thomas James Wayne, once bishop of the diocese of Georgia. Among the slaves my grandfather owned was a fine fellow named Ben, who had been stolen from the Gold Coast. He had a son, also named Ben, and the father of the African Benoni that you have just thrown into jail, because he has kept silence out of respect for my infirmity. His son Ben and my father grew up in that relationship that once existed in the South betiveen boy-master and boy-slave. Ben’s father had told his son how their people were kings in mid-Africa, and of the enormous wealth they held there, all vested in diamond mines. The black lad and the white one were adventurous youths, and planned from boyhood up to sail to Africa as soon as they were grown to manhood. Ben was to be restored to his ancestral power and my father was to be enriched with half the wealth of the king-dom-and to return here t<i America £o live. Father wanted to be’ a physician, so his parents sent him ito Germany and later to France so study. Ben, the slave, went with him as his valet, though they were more like foster brothers, and. with good reason, as Ben’s mother had been my father’s wet nurse. Ben was bright, and to fit himself to rule over his people and to head his dreams of a vast African colonization he studied side by side with my father. They saved their money, did these two boys, and when they were matriculp'.ed made ready to go to Africa. Hovering around Paris before their departure my father met the beautiful twin daughters of a Frenchman of rank and wealth, the Mademoiselles Desiree and Marie De La Roux. They were like as two peas, and of exceptional grace and charm, and for a long while father did not know which to choose. He loved them both. Finally he decided upon Desiree, proposed. was accepted and married within a fortnight. As the two sisters had never been separated Marie accompanied the newly wedded pair to Africa. Shortly after their arrival in the ancient kingdom of Ben’s -father, a journey accomplished only after terrible hardships, Ben married Tyoga, the mother of Benoni, and the foster mother of Meta, now feenoni’s wife. The natives gave them short shrift at first. Had not my father’s really marvelous knowledge of electricity and his clever acquaintance witlp black art as ft was then practiced irt some portions of Germany stood them in good stead, their lives would not have been worth much. As it was the barbarians considered my father a terrible sorcerer, and exalted him to be their ruler. Shortly afterwards Ben and father quarreled and father had faithful slave executed with terrible torture, for the sight of the wealth in this African kingdom, and its almost limitless diamond fields had disclosed all the avaricious qualities of my father’s nature, and he felt no affection except for the glittering jewels that his thousands of serfs piled up at his feet. Tyoga remained to her lonely young mistress even after the fearful death of Ben, her husband. “Then Benoni and I were born—within a month of each other, when the first year of the sojourn on African soli was barely ended. Tyoga consecrated Benoni to my service at his birth, and he has been more faithful and loyal than a brother ever since. Within the next year my sister Cerisse was born. In appearance I was like jny father, but I had my mother’s disposition. Cerisse was the image of our mother and of our Aunt Marie, but her nature was that of our father. .Intensely vain, selfish and overbearing. Cerisse would have .been hated by all around the castle but for her exceptional beauty. She was barely two years old when a young, captain in the French army, Raoul de L’Enclose, stationed In camp a few rods from our demesne, met my Aunt Marie. They fell violently in love .with each other, and despite my father’s opposition were married by the old French Cure who had accompanied the party on its migration into the African wilderness. Father was wild with anger about the marriage. He forbade my aunt and her husband the house, and returned to my Aunt Marie her half of the joint fortune that she and her sister had brought with them to Africa, only because he feared that Capt. de L'Enclos might Invoke an investigation of the Wayne desmene by the French government. My aunt wa» by now thoroughly enraptured with life in the tropics; which was but natural, as the De La Roux had originally come from Martinique. Africa was barred to them, because both she and her husband feared my 1 father's vlndictlTen?ss.