Jasper County Democrat, Volume 8, Number 42, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 20 January 1906 — The Yellow Holly [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The Yellow Holly

By FERGUS HUME,

Author of “Ttaa My»t«ry of a Hansom Cab,” Etc. A A

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. CHAPTER I—George Brandon, a young Londoner, visits hi* iriend. Leonard Train, who has lodgings in the boarding house kept by Mrs. Jersey. Among the boarders Is an elderly maiden lady. Miss Bull. Mrs. Jersey is startled by a piece of yellow holly worn by George. ll George, whose real name is Vane, tells Train the story of his life. He is an orphan and the grandson of Lord Herrington, but the latter refuses to recognize the marriage of George's father (Lord Derrlngtou's son), who had eloped. Brendon desires to establish his position as Lord Herrington's heir in order to marry Dorothy Ward. The place of marriage of George's parents is known only to Mrs. Jersey, formerly maid to George's mother. His mother died at his birth, and his father had been murdered in San Remo, Italy, f ears before. Ill—ln the uight Mrs. Jersey s killed with a stilleto by an unknown person. IV—Miss Bull takes charge of the house in behalf of Margery, nelce of the murdered woman. The house has been leased from Lord Derringfon. V—Mrs. Ward, a heartless society woman, mother of Dorothy, is opposed to Dorothy's marriage to Breudon. The yellow holly had been given to Dorothy by her mother and by the girl to George. Vl—Mr, Ireland, George's former guardian, tells him of his mother's marriage and death and Ills father's murder. The latter was killed after leaving a masked hall in company with a woman a blue domino—who wore a sprig of yellow holly. VII— George, seeking a confession known to have been left by Mrs. Jersey, visits Miss Bull and learns that the dead woman received an annuity from Lord Derringfon. George saves a Mr. Bawdsey from death and learns that the latter lives in the Jersey house. Vlll—Lola Velez, a dancer. Is in love with George and is loved by Bawdsey. Lola's parents lived in San Remo at the time of the murder of Brendon's father. In this order they entered the dining room, Mrs. Ward trying to stifle a yawn and wondering how she would get through such a dull evening. Luckily, V ane mentioned that his grandfather had expressed his Intention of looking In during the course of the evening. “If you will not mind, Mrs. Ward,” he said politely. “Oh, I’m rather glad,” replied the little woman. “Such a delightful old gentleman! Ills anecdotes are quite In the best style. Do try this dish, Mr. Train. It Is good.” Leonard did try It and did full justice to the merits of Mrs. Ward’s cook. She kept a particularly good chef, as she knew the value of good cooking. “People like nice things to eat,” she explained to Leonard, while Dorothy labored to entertain Vane. “One can break all the Ten Commandments If only one feeds the men.” Then, thinking she had said too much, she added sweetly. “But of course I am only Joking, Mr. Train, us one must be good and all that sort of thing.” ‘Tm sure you are all that Is good and kind, Mrs. Wurth” “Now, thut's really very nice of you. Mr. Brendon would never say a really nice thing like that. Of course he’s a great friend of yours, isn’t he? And he stopped with you when thnt’poor woman”— Leonard uttered an ejaculation. It seemed to him that he was pursued by the Auiellu squure tragedy. . First Dorothy and now her mother. Was there no other topic of conversation? He would have answered an ordinary person rudely, being weurled of being questioned, but Mrs. Ward, having the key of the door which led into the fashionable world, was to be conciliated. lie replied to her almost in the same words as he had used to Dorothy. “Mr. Brendon did stop with me,” he suld, "but we were asleep when tho murder took place.” 4 “How extraordinary!" said Mrs. Ward languidly, yet with a keen eye on the change In Leonard’s face. "I wonder who killed her?” "No one knows,” replied Train short ly. “The police are quite at fault.” “Oh, the police!" said Mrs. Ward, In a proper tone of contempt. "They never do anything except make love to cooks. Do you suspect any one?" Leonard flushed. "I, Mrs. Ward? Why should I suspect any one?” "Oh, I don't know. • You buve a clever face. Just the kind of a face that one would think u brilliant detective would have. You must have some suspicions?” Again her eyes searched his face. “No,” he protested. "I was asleep. I know nothing about the matter.” "How stupid of you!” said Mrs. Ward, beginning to think that her condescension in asking Leonard to dinner was wasted. “But you men are always so blind, poor dears! Did Mrs. Jersey and Mr. Brendon get on well together? 1 suppose Mrs. Jersey liked him?” “I think she did,” replied on whose weak head the claret was beginning to take effect, “but she was rather startled when she saw him first. It wasn’t at him exactly, but at a piece of yellow holly be wore In his coat.” “Yellow holly," repeated Mrs. Ward, with feigned surprise. "Why, of course Mr. Breudon wore a sprig. My daughter gave It to him.” “So he told me, Mrs. Ward." “And I gave It to Dorothy,” continued Mrs. Ward, who for some reason wished to make an explicit statement “It is very rare, you know, and a man who lives in Devonshire sent me a bunch. Dorothy mentioned that Mr. Brendon had begged for a piece. Yes, be would naturally wear it on that night, as he had just left my house. But why was this unfortunate woman surprised?” “I can’t say, but she was,” answered Train. “She turned white, and we all thought she was about to faint" “Did she give any explanation?" “No. In a few moments she recovered and nothing mote was said.” _

“Oh!” Mrs. Ward seemed disappointed. “Was that all?” “Why”—Leonard turned his dull eyes on her flushed sac else did you expect to hear, Mrs. Ward?” “Nothing! Nothing,” she said hurriedly, for she did not wish to muke him suspicious; “but it seems so odd. Dorothy giving the holly, you know, and that Mrs. Jersey should be upset. We must continue this conversation. Mr. Train. It is really most Interesting. But you literary men are quite fascinating. After dinner in the drawing room, Mr. Train. Dorothy!” She signaled with her fan, and her daughter arose. “Don’t be too long over your wine,” said Mrs. Ward as she left the room. “We can’t spare you, Mr. Train.” Leonard believed that all this attention was due to his own fascinations. His head was still heated with the wine he had drunk, yet he began to regret that he bad said anything about the yellow holly. Certainly he bad not promised George to be silent on this especial point, but he nevertheless thought it wiser to hold his tongue about all that had taken place in Amelia square on the night of the murder. Warned In this way by his mother sense, Train took no more wine, but after a rather dull conversation with Vane he went into the drawing room. Dorothy was at the piano, and thither repaired Vane. But Mrs. Ward, seated near the fire, called Leonard to her side. “I must introduce you. Lord Derrlngton—Mr. Train.” The grandfather of George was a huge man, burly, red faced, white haired and with a rather truculent expression. He was over seventy, yet carried his years like a boy. Under his bushy white eyebrows he shot a quick glance at Leonard from a pair of keen gray eyes and summed him up at once ns a fool. But Lord Derrlngton had been a diplomatist many years before and knew that even fools are sometimes useful. Moreover, he had learned from Mrs. Ward’s aimless chatter that Train was n great friend of Brendon’s, and he knew more about George than George thought. However, Derrlngton, after that one glance of contempt, was very civil to Leonard. “I am glnd to meet you.” he said, with a nod. “You go in for books, 1 understand from Mrs. Ward.” He had a deep, raucous voice like that of an early starling, and spoke in an abrupt staccato kind of way. Train, who stood before him like a rabbit before a snake, compared him in bis own mind with Becky Sharp's friend, tlie Marquis of Steyne. Herrington was quite as wicked and savage and unscrupulous as that celebrated nobleman. Derrlngton seemed to Leonard to have the instincts of a despot, and Leonard could Imagine him slaying and burning and doing all manner of evil things. He wondered how Brendon ever came to have such a villainous grandfather. It was on the tip of his tongue to say something about Brendon, just to observe the effect on Derrlngton. At that moment fate Intervened. The drawing room door opened, and u servant announced, “Mr. Brendon!” The next moment George came face to face with his grandfather. CHATTER X. IT was a most awkward meeting. Dorothy, Train and Brendon knew the truth, but Mrs. Ward and Vane were ignorant. As to Lord Derrlngton himself, George was not sure. After bis conversation with Loin be had a vague Idea that, since Bawdsey was connected in some way with his grandfather, Lord Derrington must have somehow learned that Brendon was the name his grandson had taken. There was no other way of accounting for the mention of Derrhtgton’s name by the private detective. However this might be, Lord Derrington was too clever a man to betray himself. George felt that the old man knew who he was, but be could not be sure, for Derrlngton welcomed him with a well bred air, as he would have done a stranger. Mrs. Ward watched the meeting curiously, and Brendon noticed her Inquiring gaze, but he put this down to his knowledge that l>er ring ton knew he was a suitor for Dorothy’s hand and wished the girl to marry Vane. Leonard was the only person In the room who displayed any visible disturbance. He grew red uud restless. Breudon was perfectly calm. “How delightful of you to come, Mr. Breudon,” said Mrs. Ward, rising and apparently forgetting that she had forbidden him the house. “I must introduce you. Lord Derrlngton Mr. Brendon, and you know Mr. Train.” “We are old friends,” said George calmly. “Miss Ward’’—he bowed to Dorothy, who emulated his serenity, although she felt anxious. But when she saw her lover’s composure she knew that nothing disagreeable would occur, and her apprehensions were relieved. There ensued a general conversation relative to the weather, to the doings of a certain politician and to sundry other subjects more or less vague. George talked excellently and was

conscious that Derrlngton was listening with approval. Again and again he wondered It the old man really knew who he was, and again and again be failed to arrive at any conclusion. After a time Leonard went with Dorothy to the piano, where she played for bis delectation, and Mrs. Ward seized the opportunity to abow Vane some new photographs of her-

self. Derring-ton and Brendon were practically alone, and the old lord appeared anxious to make himself agreeable. “I have heard of you from Mrs. Ward,” he said In his harsh tones, which no amount of politeness could render agreeable, “but I do not think we have met before. Are you related to the Brendons of Shropshire?” “No. I have' not that privilege.” Derrlngton chuckled at this reply. He thought George had a good deal of the man in him when he answered thus fearlessly. “I have seen your name somewhere lately,” he observed, “but I can’t recall where or In what connection.” Brendon laughed, quite at his ease, although he did not know If this was an attempt to make him speak out. However, he did speak out, with the Idea of seeing what would happen. “I can supply the connection,” said he lightly, but keenly observant of the old man’s face. “My name appeared as a witness at an Inquest a week or so back.” [TO BB CONTINUED.]

“I have heard of you from Mrs. Ward.”