Jasper County Democrat, Volume 8, Number 51, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 24 March 1906 — The Yellow HOLLY [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The Yellow HOLLY

By FERGUS HUME,

Author of “The Mystery of a Hansom Ceb," Etc. A A

SYNOPSIS of previous chapters. CHAPTER I—George brendon, a young Loud oner, visits his friend. 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 (tattled by a pteee of yellow holly worn by Gtorge. li—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 iLord Herrington's son), who had eloped, irendon 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 kad been murdered In Ban Remo, Italy, Curs before. Ill—ln the night Mrs. Jersey killed with a stilleto by an unknown person. IV—Miss Bull takes oharge of the house in behalf of Margery, neice of the murdered woman. The house has been leased from Lord Herrington. V—Mrs. Ward, a heartless sooiety woman, mother of Dorothy, is opposed to Dorothy’s marriage to Brendon. The yellow holly had been given to Dorothy by her mother and hy the girl to George. Vl— Mr, Ireland. George's former guardian, Veils him of his mother’s marriage and death and his father's murder. The latter was killed after leaving a masked ball 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 Derrington. 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 pareuts lived in San Remo at the time of the murder of Brendon's father. IX and X—Mrs. Ward invites Train to dinner. He meets Lord Derrlington. George visits Dorothy and makes a favorable impression on his grandfather. Mrs. Ward learns from Train that the latter found a yellow holly berry uear the body of Mrs. Jersey. XI George visits Bawdsey, who is employed by Lord Derringtou to watch the young man. bawdsey warns him that he is suspected of Mrs. Jersey's murder. Xll—Lord Derrington is visited by Brendon, who tells his grandfather that he saw him in Mrs. Jerseys house on the night of of the murder. Brendou demands that his grandfather silence Mrs. Ward. Xlll—Lord Derrington visits Mrs. Ward and forces her to keep silence concerning the yellow holly berry found by Train, telling her that the berry was dropped by George at the finding of the body. Dorothy and her mother see Lola Velez dance. Lola later tells Dorothy that the latter will be forced to give up her lover. XlV—Lola disappears. Bawdsey tells George that Mr. Ireland knows something about his father's death. Lord Herringtons power over Mrs. Ward Is due to the fact of his knowledge of her cheating at cards. Mrs. Ward produces the weapon with which Mrs. Jersey was killed, haviug found it in Lord Derrlngton’s coat. Lord Derrington conilseates the stilleto. Mr. Ireland tells him that Mrs.’Ward was with George’s father at the San Remo ball. Anott er blue domino there was Mrs. Ward's sister, now known as Miss Hull.

The sneer infuriated her. “You can dero' the stiletto if you like to the public, but you dare not do so to me.” “Why not! For the sake of argument we will admit the existence of the weapon. You come here with it in your hand and Btate that you found it In my coat—in the lining of the coat. By doing so you have defeated your own object. Had you produced the weapon from the coat and showed it to me at the very moment, your accusation might have held water. Aa it is the thing is simply ridiculous. You oome here, you accuse me of a crime”— **l did not accuse you,” said Mrs. Ward, beginning to find that Derrington wns too much even for her. “I believe Brendon killed the woman—oh, yes! You went to the house, and you saw him. lie and Mrs. Jersey had words, as she would not confess, and Brendon killed her with the stiletto. Then you came in, and to save him you put the dagger into your pocket, sent him up to bed and promised to hold your tongue, and”— Derringtou laughed. “You have a most vivid Imagination, Mrs. Ward," he said, with a shrug; “but, as it happens, you are talking nonsense. I was not at Amelia square that evening, but at my club, as any member then preset can assure you. I can prove an alibi from the minute I left this house to the minute 1 returned to find you here. As to the stiletto you say you took out of my pocket, that is rubbish. On the whole, I think you had better hold your tongue.” • “If I go to the police they will open that drawer.” “Oh, no! An Englishman’s house is his castle, you know, and a man in my position cannot be treated in the way you suggest with Impunity. Moreover, Mrs. Ward, there is ample time to destroy the stiletto." “Which you will do,” she said, reeov 1 ’ erlug her composure now that she found it was useless to protest. “No. I wouldn't even mind showing it to the police and saying how you brought it here with an accusation. If the police can prove that this is the weapon with which Mrs. Jersey was stabbed, and if you and the police can prove that the stiletto was in my pocket on the ulght of the murder, then you and the police nre extremely clever.” “Oh, very well,” said Mrs. Ward, realizing her defeat, "I shall say nothing about you. But “You will hold your tongue about him also. I quite understand how you proposed to hold -this stiletto and the tale of its being discovered in my pocket over me. If I did not sonsent to. the marriage of Miss Ward and Walter—eh ?” “She shall marry him.” “Why do you hate Brendon so?” asked Herrington. “I know he is a strong man, and for the money’s sake you do *taot want him to be your son-in-law. But even this does not account for your hatred. Why do you hate him?” “I have nothing to say,” retorted Mrs. Ward, who had flushed and paled alternately during this speech. “Please see me to the door.’,' Derringtou walked to the door and opened it. with a bow. “Willingly. I think we understand one another. 1

am sorry so ask you so leave me ao soon, as our conversation was most enjoyable. But I have to see a certain Mr. Ireland”— “Is that Brendon’s guardian?” asked Mrs. Ward, coming to a sudden stop in the hall. “His former guardian,” corrected Derrington. “How do you come to know of him, Mrs. Ward?” “I think Dorothy mentioned the name,” she said In rather a faltering tone. “Please tell your man to call a cab. I sent away the carriage.” “Let me send you home In mine.” * "No! No, I want to go at once,” and she approached the door quickly. "When did you say Mr. Ireland was coming?" Derrington glanced at bis watch. “He Is /due now," he said and looked at her, wondering why she asked the question. Mrs. Ward’s face was turned away. She was dressed in furs and carried a muff. When the door was opened by the footman a gentleman appeared on the threshold. Mrs. Ward lifted her muff to her face, but not before the stranger had caught sight of her face and had uttered an ejaculation of surprise. “You!” he Bald, stepping forward. “What do yon mean?” said Mrs. Wnrd, with her face still hidden. “Lord Derrington, this friend of yours

is making a mistake. Tell that man to be quick culling a cab.” And she moved past the stranger. “Pardon,” be said politely, “but I wish to speak with you.” Herrington bent his bushy brows. “Let the lady pass,” he said. “Who are you, sir, to stop the egress of my guests ?” “My name is Kodger Ireland,” said the stranger quietly, “and I have been looking for that lady for over thirty years.” “What does the man mean?” asked Mrs. Ward haughtily, but looking disturbed. “Lord Herrington,” said Ireland, “I think if you will permit this lady and me to have a talk”— “There seems 4o be some mistake,” said Herrington. “Mrs. Ward, will you not wait until we rectify it?” “No. The man is mud. Let me pass, sir. There is the cab.” But Ireland would not let her pass. “Lord Herrington,” he said softly, lest the footman should overtiear, “this is the lady who was with your son when he was murdered.” Herrington was not easily startled, but he turned suddenly white. Mrs. Ward shrank back into the ball. Now that the truth was told she seemed to recover from her fears and to regain all her tact. “I shall not want the cab at present,” she said to the footman. “Tell the man to wait. Lord Herrington, if you do not wish these private affairs to be discussed in the presence of the servants we had better return to the library." When they found themselves in the library Herrington closed the door and went to ills seat. He looked much older, having aged in a most extraordinary manner under the shock of Ireland’s information. Mrs. Ward was perfectly cool and resumed her former seat. As to Ireland, he let himself carefully down into the most capacious armchair he could find. Mrs. Ward opened the conversation at once. “You say you saw marflt San Kemo?” she asked. “I did,” replied Ireland in his heavy v«rtce. "I was there at the time My. Percy Vane wub murdered”—Derrington groaned—“and I was at the masked ball where”— “The Veglioni,’" said Mrs. Ward. “Well, you were there. You say you saw me?” “In a blue domino.” “There were plenty of blue dominos at that ball. At least I should think there were.” “Yes, but you wore a sprig of yellow holly. That was why I recognized you when you were masked.” “How did you know It yas IJ” •‘Because early In the evening you went Into a box. I was there talking to the Marchesa Beltrami, to whom the box belonged. You removed your mask, and I had ample opportunity to observe you.”

“WhaF>eaoon had yon to obaarve me?” asked Mrs. Ward, just as though she were counsel examining a witness. “Well," said Ireland, smoothing bis face, “you see, I knew Mr. Vane very well. He married a woman of whom 1 was fond.” Derrington shifted restlessly in his chair. “Do not be afraid. Lord Derrington. I do not intend to talk of Eosina Lockwood”— “At present I say nothing,” was his lordship’s reply, and he watched the two faces before him with close attention. “You saw me unmask In a certain box," said Mrs. Ward quickly. “Do you mean that after all these years, over thirty years, that you recognize me again? I was a girl then. I am a woman now.” “Quite so. But you have a mole on your forehead Just above the left eyebrow. I knew you by that. And then I have a splendid memory for faces, and yours”—lreland bowed gallantly—“is too beautiful to forget easily.” Mrs. Ward shrugged her shoulders. “It’s a most remarkable memory,” she said. “It is, madam,” assented Ireland. “My memory was always considered remarkable. And the fact is that I was thinking of the murder almost at the moment I entered the hall. Consequently your face was in my mind’s eye. That made the chance of recognizing you more sure. Had I not been thinking of old days I might not have guessed so readily who you were.” “Why were you thinking of the murffer then?" asked Derrington. "Well, my lord, you sent for me to speak with me about George”—Mrs. Ward gave a short laugh, and Derrington smiled—“so I was naturally thinking of George; such a thought led to my thinking of his parents, and finally I remembered the circumstance of your son’s death, as I thought you might wish to talk of it, and therefore desired to get my memory in order. In this way did I recognize the lady.” “This is all very well,” said Mrs. Ward. “You say you recognize me, Mr. Ireland. Is that your name?” “It is, but your memory is not so good as mine. We met only once.” Derrington was not so sure that Mrs. Ward’s memory was not good, for he remembfj-ed how she had tried to get away before the arrival of Ireland. “Go on! Go on!” he said irritably. “I wish to know the worst.”

“The worst is that I am supposed to have killed Percy Vane,” said Mrs. Ward coolly. “So you accuse me of that?” she asked Ireland. “By no means. But you were at that ball”— “I was, In a blue domino with a sprig of holly at my breast.” “And you were with Mr. Vane?” “No, I was not!” “You went out with Mr. Vane.” “I did not. It w r as my sister.” “Your sister!” said Herrington. “Hall!” And he relapsed into silence. Mrs. Ward shot a suspicious look at him, but his inscrutable face betrayed nothing. “I remember,” said Ireland in a slow, prosy way, “that there were two Miss Howards at San Remo, at the Hotel d’Angleterre. They were with their father, General Howard. I never met them, but Mr. Vane went frequently to call at the house."

“He did,” said Mrs. Ward, “if by house you mean the hotfcl. The fact Is, my sister Jenny was in love with Captain Vane”— “I heard it was you,” said Ireland distrustfully. “It was my sister Jenny who loved Percy Vane. She would go to the ball and persuaded me to go with her. We slipped out of the hotel and went without a chaperon. Our father would have been shocked had he known, but it was merely the escapade of two schoolgirls. I went with a friend, and Jenny looked about for Mr. Vane. We agreed to meet after an hour and go home. As there were other blue dominos at the ball, we each wore”—and Mrs. Ward repeated the word to emphasize the fact— “each a sprig of yellow holly. I went to a box to have supper with a certain cousin of mine, and my sister then departed with Mr. Vane.”

“Why did she leave the ballroom?” asked Derrington. “Because Mr. Vane was shocked. He recognized her voice and made her unmask. He insisted on taking her home first, and then intended to return tor me, as he could not find me at the moment. They went out together, Mr. Ireland, and that is the last I saw of Mr. Vane.”

“What was the last your sister saw of him?” “She was at the hotel and in our bedroom when I returned, which I did after looking vainly for her. She said that Mr. Vane had escorted her to the hotel and had left her at the gate at her earnest request, as Jenny was so afraid lest my father should hear of our escapade. She said good night to Mr. Vane and then went to her room. When we heard of the murder next morning she became very ill and my father took her away. But she always declared to me that she did not know who murdered Percy Vane.” “Did your father ever know that she was iu Vane’s company on that night?” asked Ireland. “Never! We kept our folly a profound secret from him.” “Did any one else know?” “You did,” said Mrs. Ward sharply, “and Mr. Vane did, and a servant at the hotel—an .English servant who attended to us. In fact, it was she who procured the yellow holly by which Jenny and I were to identify one another.” “What was her name?” asked Derrington quickly. “Eliza Stokes." “Ah! I thought so. Mrs. Jersey?” "Yes, Mrs. Jersey. And now, Lord Herrington, you know how I come to take such an interest in the death of that woman.'!..

‘Yea. But I cannot understand how yon came to know that Mrs. Jersey was Eliza Stokes.” “That’s my business,” flashed out Mrs. Ward. „ v < "Or why,” pursued Derrington, unmoved—“why yon sent her the yellow holly r “Because I was not quite positive If she really was Eliza Stokes. I thought that the yellow holly, being connected in her mind with the death of Mr. Vane, would make her * betray herself.” “It did in a way—but to Brendon. He would not have told you." “He would doubtless have told Dorothy, and she would have told me.” Ireland, in his thoughtful, ponderous way, turned this matter over in his own mind. "Where is your sister now ?’’ he asked. Mrs. Ward replied with some reserve. “I can’t tell you that. She went out of her mind for a time after the murder of Mr. Vane, and after she came out of the asylum we were all afraid to live with her. My father put her under some one’s charge, and when he died she was allowed an annuity. Her guardian died, and my sister vanished. We made no attempt to find her, and it was supposed that she had put an end to herself.” Ireland looked at Derrington. “Did you ever meet Miss Jenny Howard, my lord?” he asked. j “No,” said Derrington, “but I have known Mrs. Ward for many, many years.” “Quite twenty,” said Mrs. Ward, with an artificial laugh. “We grow old. No, Mr. Ireland, Lord Derrington never met my sister. Why you ask I cannot conceive!” “Because Lord Derrington is under a wrong impression. He has met your sister, and in this very room.” “I beg your pardon,” began Derrington. “I” Ireland cut him short. “She called to see you here about the renewal of the Amelia square lease.” “Miss Bull?” said his lordship. “I thought there was something familiar about her face. So Miss Bull is Mrs. Ward’s sister?” “She told me so herself,” was Ireland’s reply. [TO BB CONTINUED.].,

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