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THE PITTSBURG DISPATCH
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PAGES 9 TO 12. . 'f:
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I SECOND PART.
I 1
J.
tKOW FIBST
ASERIES OF SHOBT STORIES
By J. Marsden Sutcliffe,
ENTITLED
THE ROMANCE OF M INSURANCE OFFICE,
Beino Passages in the Experience op Mb. AUGUSTUS WILIalAM WEBBEE,
Formerly General Manager to the Universal Insurance Company.
ALL RIGHTS
IV.
The chaplain who had attended Frank
Trestrail in his last moments toot an early
opportunity ot delivering the dying man's
message to Doggett, in person. It was an
impressive meeting that took place between
the two men, who, beside the actual cul
prits, alone entertained the idea that Frank
Trestrail had died a felon's death wrongful
ly. The interview began a romantic friend
ship between the worthy divine and the
young officer of police that was only termi
nated by the death of the latter.
The chaplain was greatly impressed with
Doggett's intelligence, and with the simple
fervor with which the young officer ex
pressed an unfaltering conviction in Trest
rail's innocence, and his settled resolve to
bring the real culprit to justice.
"In what direction do your suspicions
point?" the chaplain asked, in the course
of this interview.
"It is early days to speak of suspicion
yet," answered Doggett, "but I start from
the theory of Mr. Trestrail's innocence; and
the question that I keep asking myself is,
who brewed that hellish broth that drugged
Mr. Trestrail into senselessness, and gave
the guilty villains their opportunity to
fasten the responsibility of their deed upon
him. And, always when I ask this question
there comes the same answer: 'Perhaps
those who brewed it drank deepest of it.' It
is curious, certainly, that Miss Baddely was
last to waken, and that on her the lauda
num teems to have taken most hold."
"You surely do not suspect her?" the
chaplain cried. "Mr. Trestrail expressly
said that it was quite impossible for Miss
Baddely to have been mixed up with the
affair."
"Ah! poor chap," murmured Doggett,
sententiously, "I expect his poor wits were
driven away by the mort of trouble he had
to bear." , ,
"But think of it a woman! and that
woman the victim's own niece!" said the
chaplain.
f'Nothing must be taken for granted.
Nothing must be considered too incredible.
You understand that Sir Nothing. If
we begin to ask what is likely and what is
unlikely, we shall never reach the truth. I
thought from the first that it was unlikely
that Mr. Trestrail did It, although things
looked black against him. Then when I
went over the facts, as I did again and
again, I thought it was unlikely he could
be innocent. I am convinced of it now,
tho-,h. Go on that principle of improba
biUtes and it is UDlikelr that Miss Baddely
had any hand in it, or -that her sweetheart,
William Bradbnrn Mr. Bradburn now, I
should say had any hand in it. But we
must not go on unlikelihoods; we must find
out facts."
"Then you have a suspicion? said the
Chaplain. "You suspect "
"Not quite so fast," said Doggett "It is
not to be called a suspicion yet. "Who
brewed that drink? Did Mr. Trestrail?
You and I know different "We are starting
with his innocence ior a fact. Did Selina?
She had no motive. There is only Miss
Baddely left."
"What motive had she?" asked the chap
lain. "That is what beats me. "What motive
could she have? You see she and "William
Bradburn were the only two relatives the old
gentleman had. One was his nephew in
blood, the other was his niece by marriage.
It lollows in the course of things that they
would have what the old man had to leave.
That is natural." (Doggett had not then
heard of Mr. Bradburn's intention to will
his property to the nephew of his first wife
John Barnes). "Seeing then," contin
ued Doggett, "that these two would have
what the old man had to leave, there is only
one motive for such a deed."
"You mean to hurry the old man out of
the world before his time, in order that they
might obtain the inheritance sooner," said
the chaplain.
"That is what I mean, and that is what
beats me through and through! Such a
motive for the crime is not sufficient I
have only been stationed here a twelve
month, but I am on speaking terms with
both of themj and besides, in a quiet vil
lage like this, one hears everything, and
from what I know it is difficult to imagine
that Miss Baddely ever had a hand in the
murder, or that Mr. Bradburn murdered
his uncle for the sake of being master of
Cross Hall a year or two sooner."
"Then I confess I see no way out of it,"
cried the chaplain in despair.
"Neither do I," replied Doggett "All
the same, I am confident that those who
may have brewed that drink drunk of it
themselves the deepest; and I mean just to
wait and watch. More things come in
this world by waiting for than by worrying
about"
"For so young a man that is a very wise
observation," the chaplain exclaimed.
"Well, I keep my wits about me," Dog
gett answered; and then in a burst of confi
dence, he added: "I mean to get to the
bottom of this crime, and when I do it will
be worth a step to me, and perhaps some
thing better stilL"
"That brings me to another point," said
the chaplain; "about money?"
"None will be wanted!"
"But for expenses there is certain to be
Borne expense before the affair is ended,"
said the chaplain persuasively.
"There is no prospect of it at present,"
said Doggett
"Well, bear in mind that I am prepared
to go to fifty pounds perhaps more," said
the chaplain.
"Then, if money is wanted I will ask
you, sir."
Sometime after this conversation Doggett
pnt to Sergeant Williams what that officer
called "a poser."
"Supposing," he said, "that an angel
from heaven mind, I don't say such a
thing is possible, but supposing an angel
from heaven were to appear, and tell you
that Trestrail did not murder Mr. Brad
burn." "Then I should ask him who did?" said
"Williams, breaking in with a quaint touch
ot humor.
"Not so fast, sergeant!" cried Doggett
"I want to put before you a supposition of
mine."
"Goon, then," Williamsanswered, humor
ing the young officer's fancy.
"Well, in case something came to light to
convince you of Trestrail's innocence, you
would have to start afresh. How would you
begin?"
"Hum!" said the sergeant, reflectively,
"that wants thinking about"
"Take your time, Sergeant"
"I mean to."
The two uen were on duty together in the
village, and Doggett, with his truncheon
under his arm, was employing himself in
whittling with his knife, while "William
remained for some time in a state of abstrac
tion. iw'ell' he said, at last, stroking his chin
PUBLISHED.)
RESERVED.
reflectively, "I should ask myself who bene
fited by the old man's death? That first of
all."
"The answer to that is, William Brad
burn," said Doggett
"Exactly!" answered Williams, "but I
should decide against the culprit being Mr.
Bradburn, not merely because of his charac
ter, though we know him to be an exceed
ingly steady young fellow, but because, as
he was safe to come into the property, he
would never put his neck into danger for
the sake of securing a little sooner what
must one day have come to him. I mean
tbataman would not peril his chance of
enjoying a nice little fortune, that he knew
was coming, just for the sake of having it
this year instead of next"
"Well, what next?" asked Doggett
"Well, failing that, I should ask, did
anybody owe Timothy Bradburn a grudge,
and do this to serve him out? That ques
tion might lead up to Miss Baddely, if we
could suppose she was one of those artful,
scheming jades who hud .the nerve to try and
get the old man to make a will in her favor,
and finding him obstinate would then set
her wits to work how to help herself. But
she's not one of that sort"
"Another minute, sergeant, please,"
cried Doggett excitedly, interrupting the
sergeant's discourse, as a new light seemed
suddenly to break upon him. "We do not
know what that safe contained except dia
monds, do we?"
"No! That is so."
"Supposing now the safe contained a will
leaving the old man's money to an asylum!
Let us say that he was going to have
Cross Hall turned into a hospital when
he was dead, and that his diamonds were to
co to endow it; and that he told his nephew
and niece of what he intended to do. How
then?"
"In that case I should think William
Bradburn would be under a strong tempta
tion to cut his uncle's throat"
"He'd be game for anything, from mid
night robbery to murder?" Doggett asked
in an eager tone.
"Most likely. It would be a cruel situa
tion for any man to be in, and more es
pecially for William Bradburn, whose
father was done out of his share by Will
iam's grandfather; and there's no telling
how a man might act under the pressure ot
fierce temptation like that"
"Then look here, sergeant," cried Dog
gett, triumphantly; "I am on the tractc
now, and no mistake. The old man made
a will, in which William Bradburn did
not get what he thought he had a right to
expect. But he knew that his uncle was
richer indiamonds than he was in land.
He got his sweetheart to brew that devil's
mess, and he went to help himself to what
he reckoned was his due. The old man
woke and recognized him at the safe; and
you can guess the restl Frank Trestrail
did not go before his Maker with a lie on
his lips."
"My God! I never thought of that,"
cried Williams, as a feeling of conviction
entered his mind that his subordinate had
hit the right nail on the head.
"No! none of us thought of that," said
Doggett, sadly. "It is a pity but what we
had!"
"But how did he get into the house?"
Williams asked.
"Why, through his sweetheart's window,
of course. It is not far to climb, and if
what Selina has told John Gubbins be cor
rect, he knew the way there!"
"What do you mean?" asked Williams,
in amazement
"Can't you guess, sergeant?"
And Sergeant Williams guessed; and
Nancy's twofold secret was known to two
men, beside herself and her lover, and one
of these men had sworn an oath never to
rest until he dragged the murderer of
Timothy Bradburn to the same gallows on
which he had suffered Frank Trestrail to
perish, knowing him innocent
When William Bradburn was at last per
mitted to enter the room for the first time
that had been Nancy's sick prison during
five long, sad months of tedious illness, and
still more tedious and melancholy reflec
tions, he drew back horror-struck at the
change those five months had worked upon
her, and one word spoken in a startled tone
told volumes "Nancy!"
"Yes, it is Nancy," she said, and a faint
wintry smile broke over her pallid lips.
"My poor girl!" William cried, his heaij
really touched; and one stride brought him
to her side. He took her hand in his; it
was thin and transparent now, and the blue
veins stood out against the limp whiteness.
He would nave Kissed her, but Nancy ar
rested that movement with a quiet gesture.
"The time has gone by for that, Will
iam," she breathed, in a low bnt firm tone.
"What do you mean, Nancy?" he aiked,
while his eyes shifted under the prolonged
and searching glance she fixed on him.
"Can you not guess?" she asked. "Does
your conscience reproach you with nothing?
Two lives sacrificed, by you and me, and
you think to find me in a mood for caresses?
Fie, William!"
William Bradburn Bhifted uneasily in his
chair, and his eyes fell, whilst a dusty red,
of anger and shame, rushed over his face
and brow. At last he called up his courage
to look Nancy once more in the face.
"If you have nothing but reproaches to
greet me with, I might as well have stayed
awav," he said, sullenly.
"We must have met once for the last
tiracl It is better we should get it over,"
Nancy said.
"For the last time! Get it over! What
do you mean, Nancj?"
"I mean that I am going away."
"Going away?" William Bradburn an
swered, repeating her words mechanically.
"You did not suppose that I should re
main here, after what has happened," said
Nancy, sharply, with a flash of her old self,
"but don't let us have any hard words if we
can help it"
"I don t want any hard words," Brad
burn said, "I came to.see you to cheer you
up; to tell you to get well quickly that we
may be married soon."
"William Bradburn, are you utterly cal
lous? You talk of marrying? Yon?"
"Why not?" Bradburn replied. "Come,
Nancy, be a sensible lass: 1 1 ave only got
my own got my own rights, which that old
man would have robbed me of, as he robbed
my father."
'Yes, I don't deny that justice was on
your side." Nancy replied. If you had
not talked me over into seeing your wrongs,
do you think I would have helped you? Do
you think I would have drugged the drink
with the laudannm you gave me, and drnnk
of it myself, to give you the chance of get
ting your own? But I never thought it was
to end in murder."
"Nor II" Bradburn answered firmly.
"But what was I to do when he awoke?
He was sleeping soundly when I entered
the room, and I did not not notice whether
his glass was full or empty. There was a
noise, of course, when I began upon the
safe. It awoke him and he recognized me.
Again I ask what was I to do? I had no
time to think. He jumped np and threw
back the clothes. I had the crowbar in my
PITTSBURG,
hand and it was done. I was sorry for
it But it was done in self-defence. I was
securing my own. Bear in mind that.
There was the will in the safe. Never mind
what was in it. My name was not in it, nor
yours! But it is gone now.j He had wit
ten it in his own hand-writing, sly old
devil!"
"Oh don't," N8ncy cried, putting up her
hands and beating the nir as though she
would drive away the vision that Brad
burn's words conjured up before her imagi
nation. "Don't William, I cannot bear it
I have seen it every night I have lain on
that bed. Oh God! it is awful. My love a
murderer!" and the wretched girl covered
her eyes with her thin transparent hands
and wept convulsively. Presently she
grew calmer and spoke again.
"You must listen to me now, William.
Before the little strength I have is gone I
must say what is on my mind. When Selina
woke and told me that the master was mur
dered I ran to his room like one distracted,
but hugging the belief to my heart that I
would be able to give her the lie. My GodI
it was no lie. When I saw him stretched
there, his long white hair dappled with
blood, I knew who had deju it; and I knew,
too, that in killing that old man you had
dug the grave that would bury our love.
Love! Do you think that love is possible
between us? We could not look in each
other's faces, day after day, with this secret
lying upon us, without trembling and lear.
Our lives would be constantly haunted by
the shadow of this crime, and in time we
should hate one another."
"Yes, we should," she repeated, as Brad
burn made a gesture of dissent; "we should
hate each other before a twelve-month, and
then how could we live chained toxrether
like that?"
"Perhaps you think so now," Bradburn
said, c,but you are ill and weak. You will
see things in a different light by and by. I
had a right to my own. That old man was
a thief. He robbed my father. He would
have robbed me and given what was mine
to strangers. The law would not help me.
I had a right to seize on my own by the
strong hand of force. It came to a struggle
between us and he died. That is all.
His blood be upon his own head."
"I cannot reason with you," Nancy said
wearily. "You were ever the better talker.
But even if all you say is right, on whose
head is Trestrail's blood? Tell me that,
William."
"On his own for an impertinent meddler.
What business had he here ? What was
Trestrail's game? Tell me that, Nancy."
"I am sorry to hear you speak of poor Mr.
Trestrail thus," Nancy replied, now grow
ing downright angry with Bradburn's utter
selfishness. "The man who was too great a
coward to speak the word that would have
saved Trestrail, might show some respect
for his memory and a little pity for his
fate."
"And you would have had me speak,
Nancy?"
"That I would. If it had not been that I
knew you had not willfully sought the mas
ter's death, I should have urged you to own
it and confess and abide the consequences.
To be found out, and punished for it, is not
the worst thing that can come to us in this
world, I'm thinking. Oh! yes, William
Bradburn, you may toss about your arms
and cry 'pshaw,' but if you had suffered as
I have suffered you would know that what I
am saying is true. I would have urged you
to 'out with it' and have done with it, let
the results be what they might; only I was
atraid they would punish you more than
you deserved, for you did not mean to harm
him only to get possession of your own.
And I had another reason for keeping
silent"
"What was that?" Bradburn asked. "Let
us have it all now," with a fierce emphasis
in his tone.
"I could not send the father of my child
to run the risk of the gallows. But I would
have done that; I would have sacrificed yon,
and myself, and the babe unborn, rather
than this awful wrong had been done to
Trestrail. But they .kept it from me until
it was too late."
"A good job, too, if that's whatyou would
have done," replied Bradburn, "but is this
true, Nancy? lmean what you have just
told me?" ,
"About the baby? Oh! that is true
enough. I wish it weren't! And now I
pray that neither it nor me may live."
Nancy's confession raised "a mixture of
emotions in Bradburn's breast To do him
justice, he wan not so absolutely lost to feel
ings of shame and honor, as to fail in recog
nizing that Nancy's revelation of her condi
tion imposed new obligations upon his com
passion, bey or d the ties that bound them
together as sharing the secret of Timothy'
Bradburn's death. But he was not inclined
to torget that between William Bradburn,
the farm-bailiff, and AYilliam Bradburn the
owner of Cross Hall, there was a mighty
deal of difference; and that the owner of
Cross Hall might look higher than to wed
with this simple dairy maid. Then, too, he
was not oblivious that Nancy's condition
must soon become known, when it would be
the talk of the whole country side, and that
on the whole, he might do better for him
self, if he allowed her to have her own way,
and carry out her intention of leaving the
neighborhood of Cross Hall forever.
He did not relish the prospect of sharing
with Nancy the burden of the disgrace that
would attach to her; and he did not over
look the flight of Nancy's charms. Her
E inched and colorless face, her lean, limp
cure, wasted away by illness and the men
tal strain of the past five months, conveyed
no hint of the fair vision of beauty that
had once held William Bradburn's heart in
thrall.
But he did not sink to this deepest in
famy of his selfish and miserable nature
without making an effort against it He
made one more attempt to induce Nancy to
think better of her determination,and asked
her once again to remain at Cross Hall as
its mistress. But the lover-like ardor with
which he had formerly sought Nancy's
lightest favors, was absent from his cold and
calculating proposals; and Nancy, who
once in the course of their interview bad
been on the point of yielding, and would
have yielded at last if he had pressed his
proposals with greater fervor, saw through
the thin disguise of pretended loyalty to
her, and announced her resolve to depart,
in terms that put an end to the conversa
tion. It would have been well for William
Bradburn if he had been less of the calcu
lating schemer-and more of the lover. His
secret, though suspected by Doggett and
Williams, was actually known only to
themselves-yhimself and Nancy and there
was no possible loophole left unguarded by
which Doggett could have penetrated his
secret and brought the troth home to him,
if he had been true in act and feeling to the
weak but generous lassie who had loved
him. "not wisely, but too well." The
strain otthe interview, the sense of the
SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 9, 1889.
hopelessness of everything, had worked
their effect on Nancy, andfbrought her into
a melting and more compliant" condition of
mind. She had reached that stage when
she might have exclaimed, "Askmeno
more, for at a touch I yield," when Will
iam Bradburn, laying aside the pleading ot
affection, betook himself to argument, and
began to reason with Nancy, to convince
her that their marriage was essential to his
safety. Then Nancy's scorn and anger
broke loose, and she closed the conversation
with some stinging home-truths.
William Bradburn's faithlessness to his
mistress for he was faithless at heart de
spite his lip professions sealed his fate and
placed him in Doggett's power.
-VI.
Winter turned to spring, and with the ap
pearance of the first primroses Nancy left
the scene associated in her mind with biUer
est shameand most poignant anguish.
Cross Hall, with the recollection of the ter
rible tragedy, was no home for her, now
that William Bradburn was its master. She
longed to hurry away from the place over
which so many dark memories brooded;
Timothy Bradburn's death, the corruption
of her own innocence, and the discovery
that her lover, fur whose" sake she had
cinnorl en dppnlv. WSS at bottom shallow,
selfish, and callous.. Mingled with the.
recollections of her share in the awiui
crime, for which the innocent had paid for
feit, and her own womanly shame, she was
tormented with utter self-loathing that it
was for such a nature as that of William
Bradburn's that she had sinned so dteply,
and lost the peace of a still and quiet con
science. The fact stood out before her con
tinually, and humbled her to the very dust
There were times when she'eaught herself
wishing that the man for whose sake she
had lost all had some redeeming points
about him, that her mind might take hold of
and say: "In spite of all, there is some
good in the man for whom I have sinned."
But Nancy oould find no shred of fact ou
which to build even that poor comfort
She was a simple country maiden, with
no more conscience than a bird, when Will
iam Bradburn overmastered her intelligence
with his sophistical reasoniugs, and taught
her to think that as his uncle was bent on
depriving him of Cross Hall, which he
looked upon as his birthright, he was justi
fied in seeking to possess himself of some
portion of the wealth, which he deemed his
own. He painted, his scheme in false colors
that Nancy accepted as true, when he told
her that he meant no harm he was simply
resolved on preventing a premeditated
wrong being done tohimself. And, oiftbis
understanding Nancy, fn an evil hour, con
sented to take the phial'of laudanum to in
sure him carrying out his plans undis
turbed, and to leave open the window in her
chamber through which William Bradburn
entered the sleeping house.
Nancy was awake when her lover stole
through the window; but there were a few
drops of laudanum left in the phial which
Bradburn made her drink, and not until
her breathing told him that she was asleep
did h go forth to the execution of his de
sign. The horrible discovery of the murder
quickened the conscience of the young girl,
and what the discovery of Mr. Bradburn's
murder began Trestrail's unhappy death
completed. No moral anodynes that Will
iam Bradburn knew of would paralyze her
conscience more. She had striven in her
illness to acquit her lover for the murder of
his uncle, believing that Bradburn had been
sorely driven to adopt means that he had
not contemplated originally, and that the
deed had been done on the mad impulse of
a moment and would be repented of.
But when she found that her lover had
stood silently by, seen Trestrail accused
falsely, sentenced to death, and left without
hope, the cold-blooded villainy of the man
who could leave another to bear the penal
ties of his own sins revolted her. And
when Bradburn came to see her, exhibiting
no compunction for his crimes, heaping in
sult on Trestrail, her lover stood before her
stripped of everything that could conceal
from her his moral deformity.
Had she found him remorseful, bowed
down with the load of guilty sorrow, her
heart would have pitied him. Had he con
fessed to her that she was necessary to his
existence, and that as they had been part
ners in sin they should be partners in bear
ing the burden of its penalties, and go
through life together, hiding their guilty
secret and by mutual offices endeavoring to
make the burden lighter to one another, she
would have consented at any cost of feeling
to herself, judging that her idol was not all
base clay. Her love and pity, not her judg
ment, would have reconciled her to this; for
in her own mind she was convinced that
the wider apart their roads in life lay the
better it would be for both. Only in the
event of him constraining her to see that
she was necessary to him, not to purchase
his safety, but to enable him to live ont his
days, strugglingunder the burden of his
crimes, could this have been brought about
But to the calculating argument of the cal
lous man she proved, as we have seen, in
exorably deaf.
Nancy had a sister in Liverpool, and to
Liverpool she went with her load of shame
and sorrow. Bradburn drove her in his gig
to Chester, and conld think of no better
means of employing his last moments with
the woman who had sacrificed everything
for him than to attempt to extract an oath
from her that she would never under any
circumstances reveal his secret. But this
promise Nancy refused to give.
"I shall not speak a word of this," she
answered with dignity," "except under com
pulsion. Is it likely that I should? I have
suffered too much ever to recur to the mat
ter willingly, and with that undertaking
you must be content"
"But that is not enough," Bradbum in
sisted. "You' must swear, Nancy, to keep
the secret let come what may."
"I shall not do that," she replied, firmly,
and with some contempt in her tone.
"Nothing but strong necessity will unseal
my lips. Why should I proclaim mv own
shame? It is not likely! But if I am so
placed that it is better to speak than to
keep silent I shall Bpeak. Do not let ns
talk about it The occasion is not likely to
arisa. The secret is in your own keeping,
not in mine." And with that conditional
promise William Bradburn was compelled
at last to be satisfied.
Nancy made no secret of her destination
when she quitted Cross Hall, and Doggett
was soon in possession of information as to
her whereabouts, f
In September Doggett had an interview
withhis friend the chaplain, which ended
in him throwing up his appointment in the
Cheshire constabulary and journeying to
Liverpool, where he at once made a point
of calling on Nancy's sister, to whom hr
opened his business as an old friend and
admirer. By dint of dexterous questions he
managed to learn that Nancy's baby was
born and had died in June; and that Nancy
herself had been two months in service
with a Mrs. Nicholson In Bootle.
The same week that saw Doggett arrive in
Liverpool sa him establish himself in the
business of a green-grocer in Bootle, and
before the month was out the embro-detect-ive
reckoned Mrs. Nicholson among his
best customers. In answer to Nancy's
startled look when she recognized him, he
explained that he had retired from the
force. "Some day I will tell you all about
it," he said, "and then yon will say I was
rieht." But Doggett had to wait long
before the opportunity for his explanation
came. It came at last, and then Nancy
learned that it was the affair at Cross Hall
that led to his retirement. Nancy felt that
she would like the earth to open and
swallow her when she heard Doggett refer
to,Mr. Bradburn's murder, but by a strong
effort she contrived to command her feelings.
"In what way?" she managed to ask,
while her breath came quickly through her
half-parted lips. "You did not suffer by it,
didyou?"
"Well, it was in this way, miss," Dog
gett went on to explain, rejoicing that his
opportunity had now come. "I was a fool
ever to have joined the force, and that's a
fact I had no nerve for it But what
nerve I had was lost when I found that in
joining the hunt against that poor Trestrail
I had been pursuing an innocent chap to
to his death."
"Innocent!" cried Nancy,now thoroughly
alarmed, but mastering her emotion by a
supreme effort, determined now to hear
everything that the ex-policeman had to
tell her. But, at the critical moment, a
customer entered the green-grocer's hum
ble shop and the explanation had to be
postponed. Doggett followed Nancy to
the door as she took up her basket.
"I suppose you never take a walk, Miss
Baddely?" he said in an insinuating tone.
"Oh, yes ! I do.sometimes," said Nancy,
who perceived that Doggett was anxious to
complete his confessions which she for her
own reasons was no less anxious to hear,
now that her suspicions were thoroughly
aroused, though they did not take the form
ofguessing at Doggett's real intentions. Be
fore Nancy went away Bhe had consented to
allow Doggett to accompany her in her walk
on the following Sunday.
When Sunday came, Doggett, who was a
smart, good-looking fellow, kept his ap
pointment arrayed in his Sunday best. He
escorted Miss Baddely to Marsh Lane sta
tion, and here the pair took tickets for
Waterloo; and while walking by the sea
shore Doggett told a moving story of his un
fitness for the grim work ot a policeman,
and his remorse, when too late he was con
vinced by the eloquence with which Tres
trail's counsel pleaded for the life of his
client, that he had been assisting to hurry
an innocent man to an ignominious death.
"After that," he said, "I made up my mind
that the force was not the place for me; but
I determined to try it a little longer. It
was no good; I found I should never be able
to banish the memory of that business until
I had left the force and put a distance be
tween me and Cross Hall. No, Miss Bad
dely, nature never meant me to be a police
man, or she would never have put such a
feeling heart in my bosom," he concluded
tenderly.
"But how do yon know that Mr. Trestrail
was innocent?" "Nancy asked, determined to
use her opportunity to the full to turn Dog
gett inside out,little dreaming that the de
tective was in the way for performing that
process on herself.
"Because I happened to know who
did it."
"Tell me!" was all that Nancy could com
mand herself to say.
"William Bradburn did it, and I wish I
had never known it."
Nancy felt her legs tottering under her,
and would have fallen if Doggett had not
put his arm round her to support her.
"I am sorry I told you, Miss Baddely, but
don't be alarmed. Mum is the word! Do
you think that, having helped to hang one
man who was innocent. I am going to hunt
another down. Let him live, and much
good may it do him! This shall be a little
secret between you and me."
Nancy, after recovering her composure,
would have questioned Doggett further, but
the detective kept his eye too strictly on the
game he was playing to be drawn into
playing it too fast. He assumed a gay,
light-hearted tone, and assured Nancy the
affair was best forgotten and buried out of
sight. But the detective had gained his
purpose. He had obtained from Nancy's
terrified face a confirmation ot his theory,
and he had made Nancy afraid of him. It
was not within the scope of his plans to
startle the girl too much, but it was part of
his design that sheshouldstand in such fear
of him that she would not dare to refuse him
when next he proposed they should pass
their Sunday afternoon together on the
sands at Waterloo. Nor did she.
Nancy was probably governed more by
curiosity born out of her fears than by fear
alone. She could not rest satisfied with the
half-knowledge that Doggett consented to
give out piecemeal. She had turned de
tective herself and was inclined to keep him
well in sight
So the Sunday afternoon's walk became
an institution in which Nancy "tried her
unfledg'd wing" as a detective while Dog
gett played the part of lover. Bnt from
making-Jove in jest to further his scheme,
Doggett went on to make love in real earn
est, and at this Nancy drew back. But she
was fairly caught in the toils, and she felt
some difficulty in resisting the advances of
a man whom she came to believe knew her
secret, and, moreover, held the life of Will
iam Bradburn in the hollow of his hand.
Her last line of defense was broken through
when Doggett told her that he knew that
Bradburn had entered Cross Hall through
her bedroom window, and that her hands
had mixed the opiate which had secured for
Bradburn his opportunity.
Nancy fainted outright when this dis
closure was made to her, and after that she
lay at Doggett's mercy, and he could turn
her round his finger as he pleased.
"If you know all this, why don't you
arrest me?" she asked him.
"Because I mean to protect you from that
danger."
"I cannot understand you at all, "she said
with a perplexed look.
"There is nothing for you to understand,"
Doggett answered. "Is it likely that the
woman I care for above anyone else In the
world shall come to harm through me? Not
if I know it"
"How can you love a woman who has
sinned as I have sinned?" Nancy asked.
"Because you were nothing but a tool
in the hands of a villain. Make up your
mind to it Miss Baddely, that harm shall
not reach you while I am near to protect
you, and that I shall never leave you until
you come to me for good."
"That will netr be." Nancy said. "I
shall never marry. How can you, who
know my secret, think of such a thing?"
"I do think of It though," Doggett an
swered stubbornly.
"It can never happen."
"It will, though," said Doggett.
Notwithstanding the detective's confi
dence in the success of his wooing, and in
his own power to protect Nancy from the
consequences of her complicity with Will
iam Bradburn, Doggett was by no means
clear how he could contrive to work his way
through the entanglement. He knew that
he would be justified in placing his hand
on Nancy's shoulder and whispering in her
ear, "I arrest you as an accessory to the
murder of Timothy Bradburn," and. with
Nancy in custody, of proceeding to the ar
rest of the greater culprit But Doggett
cherished no such intention. He was wait
ing for news from Cheshire, and when the
news should come, he relied on seeing his
way to the arrest of Bradburn without in
volving Nancy too deeply in the mire. He
had extracted a promise from Sergeant
Williams that if anything turned up of in
terest in connection with the owner' of
Cross Hall that Williams would write.
And so another winter wore away and
spring passed into summer before the long
hoped for intelligence arrived. It took a
form that had scarcely entered into Dog
gett's calculations, but he thought he saw
his way to put his information to good use.
"Mr. Bradburn is to be married to the
eldest MissHenshall of the Grove Farm on
the 21st of next month." And that was all
Williams' letter contained.
"So I hear Mr. Bradburn is going to be
married," Doegett quietly remarked to
Napcy when next he met her.
"Married?" cried Nancy. "Impossible!
"He is to be married to one of the Miss
Henshalls, of the Grove Farm, on the 21st
of next month," Doggett insisted.
"This marriage must b stopped," Nancy
exclaimed, after taking time to think.
"That is my opinion,, too," said Doggett.
"but how? There is only one way.and
that is for you to unburden yourself of the
secret that is ruining your happiness, and
let justice have her way." Nancy shud
dered at the suggestion, but said nothing;
while Doggett making good use of his ad
vantage reasoned with her persuasively,
trying to make Nanoy see that she hadno
right to stand in the way of the right being
done, or to leave Bradburn to enjoy the
fruits of his crime, and to go on adding
villainy to villainy.
"Think of that poor woman about to link
her life with that scoundrel, and save her,"
he said. "There are two ways in which you
can do it. You can warn him that if the
marriage goes on you will break silence. I
tell you this because I know it is what you
are thinking of. At least I can guess that
is your idea. But it will not do! You can
r.iv( Miss Henshall by so dointr. but you
cannot undertake the task all your life of
holding Bradburn back from presuming
upon his position as an unsuspected man. If
it is not Miss Henshall it will be someone
else next time. What is to prevent him
breaking off this marriage under the influ
ence of your threats, and after selling Cross
Hall going somewhere where he is not
known, setting up for a fine gentleman and
decoying some other poor lassie to take his
band in marriage, stained with a double
murder? Yon cannot be dodging him round
the world, clinging to him like his shadow,
and keeping him from fresh evil."
"Give me a week to think about it,"
Nancy said at last "There is plenty of
time."
And Doggett consented that Nancy
should have a week to decide upon her
course, a concession that he would not have
been disposed to make if he had suspected
the use that Nancy was going to put the
week's respite to. For Doggett now that
he spw the consummation of his scheming
and waiting close at hand, was resolved
upon employing the opportunity that Brad
burn's projected marriage gave him to run
his man to earth. But Nancy had taken
his exhortations so well, and the detective
was so completely deceived by her apparent
willingness to act upon his advice, that he
consented to Nancy's request with a good
grace, and did not suspect her intentions,
especially as he conceived he had proved to
her how futile it would be on her part to at
tempt to hinder the marriage.
The week's respite, however, brought
Nancy round to Doggett's views.
'"You will blame me for what I have done,
when I tell you," she said,, "but you will
blame me less if yon will hear me out to the
end.
"Then I shall not blame you at all, if you
make good the latter half of your state
ment," Doggett returned, gallantly.
"I have written to William Bradburn
warning him that if this marriage goes on I
shall go to Cheshire and stop it"
"I knew that was what you had been up
to when vou talked of blame, thoueh I did
not expect you would have taken the
trouble to do that after my caution. What
is his answer? Took no notice of your letter
I expect"
"He sends me this for answer," said
Nancy, taking a letter from her pocket and
reading:
" ' I am not afraid of a jealous woman.
WILLIAM BRADBUBS., "
"The cur!" Doggett murmured below his
breath, "and a" fool to boot If that doesn't
put her on her mettle", then 'woman at best's
a contradiction still,' and no mistake," he
added to himself.
"And now," said Nancy, "I put myself
in your hands. Yon are right. William
Bradburn derives all his power to go on
working mischief from my guilty silence.
His acts are mine, but without me he could
do no wrong, and the time has come when I
must speak as I told him.
"He murdered his uncle?" Doggettasked.
"I did not see him," Nancy answered,
cautiously, but I can say that he was the
only person in Cross Hall that night who
could have entered Mr. Bradburn's room."
"That is enough," said Doggett. "Give
me a kiss, Nancy; all will be right at last."
But Nancy shook her head emphatically
at this suggestion. She felt that the course
now marked out for her, as the accuser of
her lover of happier times, involved her in
the shame of his crime and in the stigma of
a public disgrace, that polluted her to the
very lips, and shut her off from the happi
ness of contracting an honorable marriage.
They consulted together what steps they
should take, but Doggett, who loved a dra
matic "situation, and had other reasons lying
behind in favor of his plan, insisted that
Bradburn must be left a free man until the
day he went forth from Cross Hall an ex
pectant bridegroom.
The little greengrocer's shop in Marsh
lane was found with its shutters closed on the
morning of the 20th of July, the eve of Will
iam Bradburn's wedding day. Doggett, ac
companied by Nancy, closely veiled, had
taken the early boat to Birkenhead for
Chester, where the detective found he had
much to do. Securing for himself and his
charge a private room at the Grosvenor, he
went in search of the head constable of the
Cheshire constabulary, with whom he held a
long and satisfactory interview. Doggett,
who had retired from the constabulary with
out assigning any reasons, now explained
himself fully, and was immediately rein
stated and given authority to bring the mat
ter that had engaged his attention through
so many months to a satisfactory conclnsion.
But what he coveted most was the promise
he obtained that the head constable, in the
exercise of his discretion, would not think
it necessary to permit Nancy Baddely's
arrest as an accessory, conditionally upon
her undertaking to denounce William Brad
burn (or the murder of his uncle; a condi
tion that Doggett immediately accepted on
Nancy's behalf. This over, the Head
Constable drove him off to the residence of
the nearest magistrate for the county, where
Doggett swore a private information against
William Bradburn, and in return received
the warrant for his arrest
There was not a cloud apparent in Will
iam Bradburn's sky when he awoke on the
morning of his wedding day. By what
means this abandoned man had contrived to
make a truce with his conscience it would
be profitless to inquire. In the first instance
he had no doubt suffocated the moral revolt
within him, by his specious plea that all
that had happened had transpired in the
effort to secure for himself his own en
dangered rights. The murder of his uncle
was to him no more than an incident an
unfortunate one and unpremeditated, it is
true still only an incident in his plan of
securing justice for himself.
That he should have sought next to direct
suspicion to Trestrail by visiting his cham
ber and fastening on the sleeping and un
suspecting man signs of guilt apparently
so unequivocal as to mislead the police
was due to the fears he entertained
for his own safety, and to his selfish
and abominable resolve to spare himself at
any cost to others. Once he had begun to
tread the path of crime, he went on without
compunction, without faltering, with a firm
and resolute step to the very end. Nancy's
warning he had not only treated with light
ness, but, in his hardihood, he even ven
tured to roward it with insult, attributing
her honest desire to save him from further
sin, and an unconscious woman from a step
that would wreck her life, to the worst pos
sible motives.
He hummed to himself a popular air as
he dressed himself for the bridal, and joked
with Selina and John Gnbbins, ere he went
forth to meet his fate with as much effront
eryashehaderer gpnemand out among
his fellow men. It is not i much to say
that when the blow came it feHE00 nim
like a thunder-clap, so little hadvj?8 con
cerned himself with Nancy's warningV
The little church was thronged with Tit
lage sightseers for the bride was popular,'
in the parish and William Bradburn
smiled with contentment as he entered the
sacred building and noticed the crowd that
filled the pews. Presently a merry peal
from the bells announced the approach of
the bride, and the marriage ceremony be
gan. Nancy, with whom sat Mrs. Williams,
occupied a retired position, but she rose as
Doggett gave the signal 'at the right mo
ment, and advancing with rapid steps to
the altar rails placed herself within sight
of the bridegroom, and in a voice ringing
with pathos and pain she cried, "I forbid
this marriage. I accuse William Bradburn
of the murder of his uncle."
"'Tis false!" cried Bradburn, purplo
with rage.
"'Tis true!" exclaimed Doggett "I
have known it these 18 months past, and
here is the warrant for your arrest Will
iam Bradburn, you are my prisoner."
Amid an indescribable scene of excite
ment Bradburn was led away, and hurried
into one of the wedding coaches and driven
back to Cross Hall.
Nancy, who had pleaded in vain that this
scene might be spared the unfortunate
bride, wept bitterly as she saw the poor girl,
supported on the arms of her relatives, car
ried into the vestry. Mrs. Williams, as
soon as the church began to empty, drew
Nancy away and took her to her own home.
Sergeant Williams met Doggett at the
door of Cross Hall when that 'enterprising
officer arrived with his prisoner securely
handcuffed.
"It is all right," Williams said. "There
are thousands of pounds worth of diamonds
in yonder safe, and a policy of insurance
with the Universal for 1,500 on the life of
Timothy Bradburn, which has not been
claimed for."
"Anything else?" asked Doggett
"There are some other papers and a bank
book belonging to the late Mr. Bradburn."
"Any will?" asked Doggett.
"No, there is no will, curse you!" cried
Bradburn, finding his tongue for the first
time.
"No, of course not," Doggett answered.
"You have destroyed that, along with
everything else that was of no value except
to the right owners."
At the ensuing Chester Assizes, William
Bradburn was tried and found guilty, and
soon afterward expiated his crimes on the
scaffold.
About the same time the directors of the
Universal decided that the frequency with
which frauds were attempted on them justi
fied the permanent engagement of a private
inquiry agent, and the fame of the young
officer who had succeeded in bringing Will
iam Bradburn to the doom he so richly
merited coming to the ears of Mr. Webber
in connection with the missing policy on
Mr. Timothy Bradburn's life, the post wa3
offered to Mr. Doggett and accepted by him.
' And of Nancy? These events have long
since faded from the memories of the good
people in the county of Chester, and all
effort to trace Nancy has failed. But i$ is
believed that Mr. Doggett could tell some
thing of her if he could be induced to speak.
But though those who knew Nancy in the
early days of her bright girlish beauty
might fall to recognize in the handsome
buxom wife of Mr. Doggett the improved
edition of Nancy Baddely, there are some
grounds for the suspicion that such was the
case, and that Doggett succeeded in his
wooing.
End.
Next Saturday,
The Strange Disappearance of Mr. Constant.
FUGACIOUS SCISSOES.
An Instrument Which Disappears In the
Most mysterious Manner.
Corner's Once a "Week.l -
The apparently fugacious habits of scis
sors have been noticed since the earliest
historic period. They disappear with a
celerity and secrecy wholly without parallel
in the history of lost objects. A woman is
sewing and has a pair of scissors in her lap.
She uses them, say twice, and each time
drops them again in her lap. The third
time she wishes to use them she cannot find
them. Though she searches her lap, her
dress, her chair and the floor thoroughly,
she cannot find the slightest trace of the
missing scissors, and thereafter they are
never again seen by mortal eyes. Or let
us say that a woman, in the very act of
using a pair of scissors, is called from her
work. She places the scissors carefully in
her work basket, goes out, locking the door
of the room after her, and returns in 10 or
15 minutes to find her scissors gone.
What is the more remarkable about the
disappearance of scissors is that once hay
ing disappeared they are never again found.
Yon may loose a tack-hammer or a comb,
bnt sooner or later you find the missing
article behind some piece of furniture, but
a pair of scissors once lost are lost forever.
There is scarcely a case on record of the
final recovery of a pair of scissors that have
been missed and have not been found within
the next five minutes.
That there is something peculiar in the
disappearance of scissors is virtually ad
mitted by women when they seek to prevent
the loss of scissors by means of charms. For
a piece of ribbon, which many women at
tach to the handle of their scissors "to pre
vent them from being lost," must act as a
charm, or otherwise it would be valueless.
How, in the name of science and common
sense, can the mere fact that four inches of
blue ribbon are tied to the handle of a pair
of scissors keep them from beine mislaid?
In point of fact it does nothing of the kind,
and in spite of women's faith in the blue
ribbon charm, it is absolutely useless. If,
however, we assume that the origin of this
custom was the attaching of a bit of witch
hazel to the handle of a pair ot scissors, we
can understand it. The woman of the mid
dle ages had a vague belief that the disap
pearance of scissors was due to the witches,
and therefore called in the aid of witch
hazel. The modern woman, ignorant of the
peculiar efficacy of witch-hazel, fancies that
anything tied to a pair of scissors will keep
them from being lost, and she prefers ribbon
to witch-hazel because it is prettier and
more convenient.
THE USB OP OXYGEN
In London for the Maturing; of Spirits an&
the Improvement of Beer.
Court Journal.!
One of the industries now followed in
London is that of separating and storing
oxygen from the atmosphere. This curious
industry has an application in the maturing
of spirits and the improvement of beer.
This is far from being the only application
of pure oxygen, for which the price is
good, but it is notable, and no doubt dis
tillers and bonders will giveheed to the dis
covery. It is said that oxygen, in contact
with spirits, accomplishes in a few days
what is done by from three to five years by
nature. The oxygen gets rid of the fusel
oil quickly, and as this is the most injuri
ous property of spirits the consumer has an
interest in the matter as well as the pro
ducer. A maturing effect is also produced
on beer by admixture with oxygen, and ob
viously this gas is of high value for the
whole tribe of effervescing mineral waters.
lit for Tab
Epoch.
Mistress (to Bridget) Is it possible
Bridget, yoa are looking through my
trunk?
Bridget (calmly) Yis, mum, an' didn't I
catch you lookin' through mine the other
day?
Salvation Oil, thegreat pain destroyer
is uuiform in strength and quantity. 25
cents.
I
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