Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 34, Number 86, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 27 June 1902 — HE WOMAN IN GRAY [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

HE WOMAN IN GRAY

BY ROBERT ESTES DURAND.

CHAPTER XV.—(Continued.) “You mean, perhaps, that he has not y*t seen fit to reveal the finding of a dew? We must remember that only a week has passed," said Uncle Wilfrid. "Believe me, there is nothing we have left undone. I think it not unlikely that my niece has merely contrived to steal •way from her friends for the sake of causing them anxity.” “That is far from being my theory,” returned Haynes-Haviland, with a suggestion of anger in his voice. “Paula would not, at all events, have treated me so. Dead or alive, she has been removed against her vyll, and the first step which I beg to suggest is that the old moat should be dragged.” “Great heavens!” exclaimed Uncle Wilfrid. “The suggestion in your words is a terrible one—one which I can not bear to entertain for a moment. What has put such a thought into your mind, Mr. Haynes-Haviland V” “I do not bring it forward at random,” the young man said solemnly, my anxiety I have turned detective on my own account. Since my stepmother's murder nothing seems too horrible to happen in this house. Forgive me for saying that, Sir Wilfrid, but it is true. I will tell you what led me to think of the moat As you know, we have had no rain for a week, and therefore any footprints or marks made in the grass on the day of Paula’s disappearance might be expected to remain unobserved. Marland, clever as he is, does not seem to have turned his attention to the moat. Paula was last seen in a room in your house. If anything happened to her there, why—the moat is much nearer than the river, better in every way as a hiding-place for' anything which must be hidden. I thought of this, and last night, before it was dark, I cauie in through the field-path, and walked slowly all along the moat on both sides. On that nearest the house, in a certain spot, the grass was very much crushed and somewhat torn. That is all. Sir Wilfrid, but it seems to me significant—significant enough to order the dragging of the moat, if you will permit.” “It shall be done Tomorrow,” Uncle Wilfrid said; “but I pray heaven it may end in nothing. I feel that it can end in no other way.” “Let it be to-day, then,” cried HaynesHaviland impetuously, springing to his feet, with an eager light in Ms eyes, “It can be managed at once, without delay. I have already made arrangements, only ■abject to your approval, that no time might be lost.” Uncle Wilfrid squared his shouiders in the way that was so characteristic Of him when any crisis had to be faced. “Very well,”' he returned, in a grave, low voice. “Let it be to-day—at once. Let it be got over, and all such ghastly doubts forever set at rest.”

CHAPTER XVI. ■■ “The men whom I have engaged, provisionally, are waiting at The Nest,” explained Haynes-H’avilaiid, with a slight hesitation, as though he feared that Sir Wilfrid Amory might disapprove such high-handed proceedings, unauthorized as the y had been. But Uncle Wilfrid’s taco displayed no emotion, either of aager or satisfaction. “I will go wist you and see it proved that your suspicions are ill-founded, Mr. Haynes-Haviland,” said Uncle Wilfrid firmly; but his lips were white. “And I,” I added quickly, rising as they did. But Uncle Wilfrid stepped forward and laid his hand upon my shoulder. "That is not to be thought of, Terry,” he said. So I went to the tower room where the great clock was, and I watched them with a species of hateful fascinatiou from my eyrie. Suddenly the little knot of men stepped back from the edge of the moat. Something had been brought up by their grappling 'hooks. ><■ Forgetful of Uncle Wilfrid's injunction, I the door, meaning to join them, wtasn, with a warning groan, tdrtT clock begamdo strike the hour of seven. Nearly sixty imputes had passed since I had entered this place, sacred to the complicated and mysterious machinery of the ancient timepiece. There was a great whirring noise, resembling the flapping wings of a huge im-" prisoned bird, and at the last stroke of the hour a circular, disc-like piece of" Iron, set against the wall, yet apparently connected with the machinery of the clock, began moving to and fro in an unexpected manner. - ■ It had once evidently been painted a dull green, and the cofor still remained in scattered patches upon a larger ground work of brown and reddish rust. For an instant 1 had involuntarily paused, but as the quivering of the disc ceased I hurriedly tooved on again. So doing, I caught my coat on a rusty nail, and in extracting it pulled not only my handkerchief, but the parchment chart which the Woman in Gray had given me, from my pocket, I had not glanced at St before, but now I saw that it appeared to be an unfinished plan of a building, with a map--encircling it, evidently representing a portion of the ground lying around Lorn Abbey, with the river indicated beyond. The plan of the interior appeared to be very old, but it was easy to see that the remainder of the drawing had been added at a much later date. Beneath, and finishing only at the bottom of the parchment, was a copy of the “Amory Catechism,” the wording of which I remembered, though I had not examined it n second time, ... The first line upon which my eyes now alighted was in the midst of the rigama■dle: "When that which is green shall move.” "When that which ts green shall move.” the words seemed to strike out a spark

of fire in my mind, as flint coming into sudden contact with marble. Only a moment ago “that which was green” had moved. At least, long ago, in the days when the original of this copy had been written, the great disc of iron which had rocked with the striking of the clock had been green—something was left to this day which told the tale. And the man who hpd invented the workings of the clock had also invented the strange “catechism.” Could it be that' by chance I had hit upon the cine to some mystery undiscovered through all these years? The thought darted through my brain like a lightning flash, and then was instantly blotted out again by the dark memory of a slow procession, coming step by step nearer to the House of Fear. Mechanically I replaced the parchment in my pocket, and went down stairs to meet an awful possibility which somehow. must be faced. I had but to glance at my uncle’s set face to realize that the search under the waters of the moat had not been wholly in vain. “Well?” I questioned, in a voice that had an unnatural ring iu my own ears. “I fear that it is not well,” answered Uncle Wilfrid. “Nothing is known positively as yet, except that —there has been a body found.” “It is she, not some unknown woman, as Sir Wilfrid would have me believe,” declared Haynes-Haviland. * * * * • * • What they had found had been wrapped in a large piece of silken material, which, though soaked and sodden black with water, proved on close examination to be of Indian manufacture. “This alone does away with your theory of a stray tramp—a suicide. Sir Wilfrid!” cries Haynes-Haviland. “There are sure signs of murder here. And who knows but this bit of drapery may be identified?” We-were silent. Uncle Wilfrid and I. having already mentally identified the twisted length of silk. Scarcely more than a week ago the piece had covered a table in the ingle-room from which Paula had disappeared. Now it was tightly knotted, and a broken stick had been thrust through the knot, as though to provide means of dragging the body for a considerable distance along the ground. The last time that I had seen the Indian drapery had been, I remembered too well, but a few moments after my entrance to the ingle-room on that fatal Sunday afternoon.

CHAPTER XVII. The silk was.wrapped firmly found the head and shoulders of the body,' hut beneath trailed a black dress; and with a fearful, sickening hesitation I took up a fold of the fabric in my hand, as the policeman, with the group of men and Haynes-Haviland, worked together at unfastening the knot. The gown was of silk, and attached by a star of jet embroidery depended a single fag of faded gauze, having a frayed and charred appearance at the ends. 4t this sight my heart fainted within me. Could proof be more positive than this? It was the dress which Paula had worn that Sunday. “It is her gown, I am sure of it,” Haynes-Haviland was saying brokenly; and then, as my eyes still lingered on the p6or shreds of tattered finery, I started at an exclamation of horror which Uncle Wilfrid gave. 1 looked up and followed the direction of his gaze. There was no need to ask what had called forth his exclamation. I §aw with my own eyes, which for months had but to close their lids to behold the same sight, repeated in every dreadful detail. The silken grapery had fallen back. The shoulders were uncovered, and a shapeless mass of broken velvet and crushed feathers, which had once been n “picture” Invt, had expanded, when released freifiT pressure, out of the rounded bunch into which it had been purposely .molded. It fell away with the falling of the drapery, bringing with it a dainty pair of high-heeled shoes which had beeu forced inside the crown; and thus was revealed a hitherto unimagined horror. The body was without a head! “Oh, for revenge!” cried Ilaynes-llavi-land. "Deadly, horrible revenge upon the one who has done this thing!” As he spoke the door opened. We had thought it locked, hut it seemed that we had been mistaken, and ou the threshold stood the last man whom any among,us might have expected to see. If was Jerome, my uncle's ex-secretary —Jerome, of whose very existence I had grown oblivious. “They tell me.” he said, in a curious, constrained voice, “that the dead body of Miss Wynns has bsen found. I had to come. She was the only human being on earth for whom I cared. It can not he that she is dead. Is it true? Sir Wilfrid, I beg of you to answer me.” “That we do uqt yet know,” returned my uncle sternly. “You can not remain here, Jerome. In good time you shall be,ar all.” But Jerome, who in old days hafT been humble to servility, now cut Sir Wilfrid short. “I tell you I have a right to stay,” he said. “She was my only friend. I loved her. And I can prove who did the murder.” For an instant we stood eyeing him in Incredulous astonishment. And he took advantage Of the pause to rush to the place where, upon the cleared platform placed for lookers-on when a game of billiards was being played, the body had been. .laid. .down. He fell on his knees beside it, a limp, despairing little figure, and raised a fold of the draggled gown to hU lip*. “This was her dress,” he groaned. “She had it on that last day. I watched her as she went out of the house.”

"Whkt! jrou saw her on that day?’ questioned Uncle Wilfrid, turUlng quickly on him. “Where werfc you?” “I was at the cottage called The Nest. Miss Wynne had asked Mrs. Annesley to invite me down over Sunday. Yon can bear me oat in that statement, Mr. Haynes-Haviland.” “Yes,*’ the other echoed; “I can bear you out in that.” “I had a long talk with her after luncheon. She seemed in low spirits, and remarked that a presentiment of some evil was upon her. She was restless, and told me she was going for a walk, and wished to be alone. She held out her hand to me, and said good-by, and I saw the rings sparkling on it. See! there they are now—five rings. It is one more proof of identity.” Jerome pointed with a thin, tremulous finger. And it was as he said. The rings which Uncle Wilfrid and 1 had for long been accustomed to arcing on Paula’s left hand still sparkled on the poor, bloated fingers. Even the circlet of brilliants which I had given her, and which she had never-sent back to me after our parting, was there among the others. 4 Hope began to die out in our hearts, and a sickening weight of misery took its place. “Foully murdered!” cried Jerome. “The beautiful, gracious woman struck down in the blossom of youth! Can’t you see it all as I do? I tell you, I speak as one inspired with the gift of prophecy. This is the work of jealousy and revenge. But oue hand on earth could have been raised to do a deed so base —the hand of the woman who hated her, who robbed her of all she held precious, who even robbed me of my poor, rightful place—the hand which hid itself under—this!” With a wild gesture he snatched from the breast of the dead woman something which might have been concealed there, though as yet we had failed to see it, and held it out to my uncle and to me. One quick glatfee-was enough to tcil me what it was that with a certain hideous triumph he displayed —a torn portion of what had once been a delicate mitten of pearl beads strung on threads of gold.

CHAPTER XVIII. That night Mariand. the detective, who had gone to London with the idea of following up some real or fancied clew, was telegraphed for. On reaching L,orn Abbey in the morning of the next day, we could see it was a blow to him to learn suddenly that in great probability the body of Miss Wynne had been found in the moat. The coroner’s inquest was to be held immediately r and it was granted as a matter of courtesy to Sir Wilfrid Amory that it should be held in his house. The important witnesses to be called were Uncle Wilfrid, Haynes-Haviland, Jerome, the Annesleys, the policeman whp had superintended the dragging of the moat, Miss Hope and myself. There was no use in disguising the fact from ourselves that, taking the already known evidence into consideration, suspicion would point towards the Woman in Gray. The coroner’s inquest was set for 12 o’clock on the second day after the discovery of the body in the moat. The jury sat in the great library’, and throughout the house there seemed to be a-solemn hush when it was known that, one by one, the twelve men were viewing the thing which lay in grim state in the billiard room. It was Jerome's evidence which 1 dreaded most, as I feared that his vindictive feeling against Miss Hope might lead him to misrepresent words or actual occurrences. Never did time pass so Slowly; but at last he came out, and Miss Hope was called in his place. Suddenly my meditations were broken in upon by a knock at the door, which I opened, and found Miss Traill, flushed, excited, sparkling-eyed. “Here is something for you,” she said. “Read it—it will explain itself. You may thapk ine .another time.” She was gone before I could reply, and I opened the paper and began reading. It was a strange document —strange as the writer herself.

'“Notes taken during the progress of the coroner’s inquest at Lorn Abbey”— the screed began—“in the book-cupboard between the library and Sir Wilfrid’s smoking room. A woman circumvents the coroner and his men. Miss Naomi Traill, anxious to inform herself, and willing because of her gratitude to Mr. Terence Darkmore for certain favors (?) received, to satisfy his curiosity, establishes herself at the keyhole, having first concealed herself from observation in the said book-cupboard. When all is safe she lights a night lamp, brought for the purpose, which will assist her to write. This she will do from time to time, during the questioning bf less important witnesses, or pauses for whispered consultation among the jurymen. “Ten minutes later. Evidence has been given regarding the finding of the body. Nothing incriminating for C. H. * * * Ah! here is Mr. Haynes-Haviland. He has told of his engagement to Miss Wynne. Has said that she feared and disliked Consuelo. Believed Consuclo had a secret, which Mis Wynne wished to find ount, and save her uncle from an impostor. * * • Sir Wilfrid called. He is the first to suggest that the body may'not be that of his niece. “All. ha! now oomos the test. Here is little Jerome! Swears Inf has identified the corpsd. Noticed the rings on Miss Wynne’s hand just before she went out ou Sunday. She invariably wore five on the left hand, four on the third finger, including the ring of her betrothal Mr. Terence Darkmore —which she had not removed, though he, Jerome, was aware she was no longer engaged to her cousin —and a small one on the little finger. “He had often noticed tbe-pearl glove on the left hand of Miss Hope, and his curiosity bad been excited by it. He had never seen Miss Hope when the glove was absent. To the best of his belief she wore it continually. He would swear that the torn fragment of pearl beads and threads found in the bosom of the gown worn by the dead woman had been, a portion'of this glove. “ThisOis the wotst piece of evidence yet for C. H. Things are looking very black for her. “Jerome gone. Consuelo called. “Consuelo telling her story. She admits the quarrel. She admits everything. I cannot wait here Jonger, hut already I see the verdict in those twelve pairs of solemn eyes.” Hardly had my eyes devoured the last line when my own call came to ataad where Cousnelo had lately stood. I knew that what I had to say might mean life or death for the woman I lov-

ed. So thinking, J scarcely heard the first question pat ve me by the coroner after I had kissed the sacred book. With an effort, I pulled myself together. “Have yon seen the body found two days ago in the mbat belonging to this estate?’ the coroner asked. “I have,” I answered firmly. “Did yon recognize it as that of year cousin, Miss Paala Wynne?’ “I did not so recognize it.” “Do you intend the jury to understand that you are not able to swear to the identity, or that you have reasons for believing it to be the body of some one else?’ “I mean that I am sure it is not that of my cousin.” “Please give your reasons for making such a statement.” (To be continued.)