Classic Audiobook Collection - Mystery of a Hansom Cab by Fergus Hume ~ Full Audiobook [mystery]

Episode Date: December 28, 2022

Mystery of a Hansom Cab by Fergus Hume audiobook. Genre: mystery “The following report appeared in the Argus newspaper of Saturday, the 28th July, 18-- “Truth is said to be stranger than fiction, and certainly the extraordinary murder which took place in Melbourne on Thursday night, or rather Friday morning, goes a long way towards verifying this saying. A crime has been committed by an unknown assassin, within a short distance of the principal streets of this great city, and is surrounded by an impenetrable mystery. … “On the twenty-seventh day of July, at the hour of twenty minutes to two o'clock in the morning, a hansom cab drove up to the police station in Grey Street, St. Kilda, and the driver made the startling statement that his cab contained the body of a man who he had reason to believe had been murdered….” (Excerpt from the first chapter.) For ad-free listening try our premium subscription Chapters (Approximate) (00:00:00) Chapter 00 (00:06:28) Chapter 01 (00:16:02) Chapter 02 (00:26:05) Chapter 03 (00:27:17) Chapter 04 (00:35:13) Chapter 05 (00:49:05) Chapter 06 (01:03:55) Chapter 07 (01:19:59) Chapter 08 (01:37:35) Chapter 09 (01:58:22) Chapter 10 (02:12:52) Chapter 11 (02:28:30) Chapter 12 (02:44:39) Chapter 13 (03:01:44) Chapter 14 (03:14:38) Chapter 15 (03:30:59) Chapter 16 (03:41:41) Chapter 17 (03:59:20) Chapter 18 (04:11:23) Chapter 19 (04:28:35) Chapter 20 (04:36:05) Chapter 21 (04:50:43) Chapter 22 (05:00:40) Chapter 23 (05:14:10) Chapter 24 (05:29:12) Chapter 25 (05:42:58) Chapter 26 (05:51:39) Chapter 27 (06:05:33) Chapter 28 (06:21:16) Chapter 29 (06:33:07) Chapter 30 (06:48:15) Chapter 31 (06:59:18) Chapter 32 (07:08:08) Chapter 33 (07:23:43) Chapter 34 (07:35:41) Chapter 35 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

chapter i of mystery of a handsome cab by fergus hume what the argus said the following report appeared in the argus newspaper of saturday the twenty eighth july eighteen truth is said to be stranger than fiction and certainly the extraordinary murder which took place in melbourne on thursday night or rather friday morning goes a long way towards verifying this saying a crime has been committed by an unknown assassin within a short distance of the principal streets of this great city and is surrounded by an impenetrable mystery. Indeed, from the nature of the crime itself, the place where it was committed, and the fact that the assassin has escaped without leaving a trace behind him, it would seem as though the case itself

had been taken bodily from one of Gabbro's novels, and that his famous detective Lecoq alone would be able to unravel it. The facts of the case are simply these. On the 27th day of July, at the hour of twenty minutes to two o'clock in the morning, a handsome cab drove up to the police station in Gray Street, St. Kilda, and the driver made the startling statement that his cab contained the

body of a man who he had reason to believe had been murdered. Being taken into the presence of the inspector, the cabman, who gave his name as Malcolm Royston, related the following strange story. At the hour of one o'clock in the morning, he was driving down Collins Street East, when, as he was passing the Burke and Will's monument, he was hailed by a gentleman standing at the corner by the Scotch Church. He immediately drove up, and saw the third of the third of the third of the third of the the gentleman who hailed him was supporting the deceased, who appeared to be intoxicated. Both were an evening dress, but the deceased had on no overcoat, while the other wore a short, covered coat of a light fawn color, which was open. As Royston drove up, the gentleman in the

light coat said, look here, cabby, here's some fellow awfully tight. You'd better take him home. Royston then asked him if the drunken man was his friend, but the other denied, saying that he had just picked him up from the footpath, and did not know him from Ashton. at this moment the deceased turned his face up to the light of the lamp under which both were standing and the others seemed to recognize him for he recoiled a pace letting the drunken man fall in a heap on the pavement and gasping out you he turned on his heel and walked rapidly away down russell street in the direction of bork street royston was staring after him and wondering at his strange conduct when he was recalled to himself by the voice of the deceased who had struggled to his feet and was holding on to the lamp-post swaying to and fro i want to go'm he said in a thick voice he then tried to get into the cab but was too drunk to do so and finally sat down again on the pavement seeing this royston got down and lifting him up helped him into the cab with some considerable difficulty the deceased fell back and he fell back and he got down and lifting him up helped him into the cab with some considerable difficulty the deceased fell back into the cab and seemed to drop off to sleep so after closing the door royston turned to remount his driving-seat when he found the gentleman in the light coat whom he had seen holding up the deceased close to his elbow roiston said oh you've come back and the other answered yes i've changed my mind and we'll see him home as he said this he opened the door of the cab stepped in beside the deceased and told royston to drive down to st kilda

roylston who was glad that the friend of the deceased had come to look after him drove as he had been directed but near the church of england grammar school on the st kilda road the gentleman in the light coat called out to him to stop he did so and the gentleman got out of the cab closing the door after him "'He won't let me take him home,' he said. "'So I'll just walk back to the city, and you can drive him to St. Kilda.' "'What street, sir?' asked Royston. "'Gray Street, I fancy,' said the other, "'but my friend will direct you when you get to the junction.' "'Ain't he too much on, sir?' said Royston, dubiously. "'Oh, no, I think you'll be able to tell you where he lives.

It's Gray Street or Ackland Street, I fancy. I don't know which.' He then opened the door of the cab and looked in. "'Good-night, old man,' he said. The other apparently did not answer. for the gentleman in the light coat, shrugging his shoulders and muttering sulky brute, closed the door again. He then gave Royston half a sovereign, lit a cigarette, and after making a few remarks about the beauty of the night, walked off quickly in the direction of Melbourne. Royston drove down to the junction, and having stopped there, according to his instructions,

he asked his fare several times where he was to drive him to. Receiving no response and thinking that the deceased was too drunk to answer, he got down from his seat, opened the door of the cab. and found the deceased lying back in the corner with a handkerchief across his mouth. He put out his hand with the intention of rousing him, thinking that he had gone to sleep. But on touching him, the deceased fell forward, and on examination, to his horror, he found that he was quite dead. Alarmed at what had taken place, and suspecting the gentleman in the light coat, he drove

to the police station at St. Kilda, and there made the above report. The body of the deceased was taken out of the cab and brought into the station, a doctor being sent for at once. On his arrival, however, he found that life was quite extinct, and also discovered that the handkerchief, which was tied lightly over the mouth, was saturated with chloroform. He had no hesitation in stating that from the way in which the handkerchief was placed, and the presence of chloroform, that a murder had been committed, and from all appearances the deceased died easily and without a struggle. The deceased is a slender man of medium height, with a dark complexion, and is dressed in evening dress, which will render identification difficult, as it is a costume which has no

distinctive mark to render it noticeable. There were no papers or cards found on the deceased from which his name could be discovered, and the clothing was not marked in any way. The handkerchief, however, which was tied across his mouth, was of white silk, and marked in one of the corners with the letters OW in red silk. the assassin of course may have used his own handkerchief to commit the crime so that if the initials are those of his name they may ultimately lead to his detection there will be an inquest held on the body of the deceased this morning when no doubt some evidence may be elicited which will solve the mystery in monday morning's issue of the argus the following article appeared with reference to the matter the following additional evidence which has been obtained may throw some light on the mysterious murder in a handsome cab of which we gave a full description in Saturday's issue. Another handsome cabman called at the police office and gave a clue which will, no doubt,

prove of value to the detectives in their search for the murderer. He states that he was driving up the St. Kilda Road on Friday morning about half-past one o'clock, when he was hailed by a gentleman in a light coat, who stepped into the cab and told him to drive to Powlett Street in East Melbourne. He did so, and after paying him, the gentleman got out at the corner of Wellington Parade in Powlett Street and walked slowly up Powerlitt Street. stout street while the cab drove back to town here all clue ends but there can be no doubt in the minds of our readers as to the identity of the man in the light coat who got out of royston's cab on the st kilda road with the one who entered the other cab and alighted there from at pallet street there could have been no struggle as had any taken place the cabman royston surely would have heard the noise the supposition is therefore that the deceased was too drunk to make any resistance and that the other watching his opportunity

placed the handkerchief saturated with chloroform over the mouth of his victim. Then, after perhaps a few ineffectual struggles, the latter would succumb to the effects of his inhalation. The man in the light coat, judging from his conduct before getting into the cab, appears to have known the deceased, though the circumstances of his walking away on recognition and returning again, shows that his attitude towards the deceased was not altogether a friendly one. The difficulty is where to start from in the search after the author of what appears to be a deliberate murder, as the deceased seems to be unknown, and his presumed murderer has escaped. But it is impossible that the body can remain long without being identified by someone,

as though Melbourne is a large city, yet it is neither Paris nor London, where a man can disappear in a crowd and never be heard of again. The first thing to be done is to establish the identity of the deceased, and then, no doubt, a clue will be obtained, leading to the detection of the man in the light coat, who appears to have been the perpetrator, of the crime. It is of the utmost importance that the mystery in which the crime is shrouded should be cleared up, not only in the interests of justice, but also in those of the public, taking place as it did in a public conveyance and in the public street. To think that the author of such a crime is at present at large, walking in our midst, and perhaps preparing for the

committal of another, is enough to shake the strongest nerves. In one of Dubois-Gobie's stories, entitled an omnibus mystery, a murder closely resembling this tragedy takes place in an omnibus. But we question if even that author would have been daring enough to write about a crime being committed in such an unlikely place as a handsome cab. Here is a great chance for some of our detectives to render themselves famous, and we feel sure that they will do their utmost to trace the author of this cowardly and dastardly murder. End of Chapter 1, read by Sabella Denton. For more free audiobooks or to volunteer.

here, please visit Libravox.org. Chapter 2 of Mystery of a Handsome Cab by Fergus Hume. Read for Libravox.org into the public domain. Evidence at the inquest. At the inquest held on the body, found in the handsome cab, the following articles taken from the deceased were placed on the table. Two pounds, ten shillings in gold and silver. The white silk handkerchief, which was saturated with chloroform,

and was found tied across the mouth of the deceased, marked with the letters O.W. in red silk. A cigarette case of Russian leather, half filled with old judge cigarettes. Four, a left-hand white glove of kid, rather soiled, with black seams down the back. Samuel Gorby of the detective office was present in order to see if anything might be said by the witnesses, likely to point to the cause or to the author of the crime. The first witness called was Malcolm Royston, in whose cab the crime had been committed. He told the same story as it all already appeared in the Argus, and the following facts were elicited by the coroner. Can you give a description of the gentleman in the light coat, who was holding the deceased

when you drove up? I did not observe him very closely, as my attention was taken up by the deceased, and, besides, the gentleman in the light coat was in the shadow. Describe him from what you saw of him. He was fair, I think, because I could see his mustache, rather tall in an evening dress, with a light coat over it. I could not see his face very plainly, and he was fair, I could not see his face very plainly, as he wore a soft felt hat, which was pulled down over his eyes.

"'What kind of hat was that he wore, a wide awake?' "'Yes, the brim was turned down, and I could see only his mouth and mustache. "'What did he say when you asked him if he knew the deceased?' "'He said he didn't, that he had just picked him up. "'And afterwards he seemed to recognize him?' "'Yes. When the deceased looked up, he said, "'You!' and let him fall to the ground. "'Then he walked away towards Bork Street.'

"'Did he look back?' not that i saw how long were you looking after him about a minute and when did you see him again after i put the deceased into the cab i turned round and found him at my elbow and what did he say i said oh you've come back and he said yes i've changed my mind and will see him home and then he got into the cab and told me to drive to st he spoke then as if he knew the deceased yes i thought that he recognized him only when he looked up and perhaps having had a row and he had rowing with him walked away, but thought he'd come back. "'Did you see him coming back?' "'No, the first I saw of him was at my elbow when I turned. And when did he get out, just as I was turning down by the grammar school on the St. Kilda Road.'

"'Did you hear any signs of fighting or struggling in the cab during the drive?' "'No. The road was rather rough, and the noise of the wheels going over the stones would have prevented my hearing anything. When the gentleman in the light Coke got out, did he appear disturbed?' No, he was perfectly calm. How could you tell that? Because the moon had risen and I could see plainly. Did you see his face then? No, his hat was pulled down over it. I only saw as much as I did when he entered the cab in Collins Street. Were his clothes torn or disarrayed in any way? No, the only difference I remarked in him was that his coat was buttoned. And was it open when he got in?

No, but it was when he was holding up the deceased. Then he buttoned it before he came back and got into the cab? Yes, I suppose so. What did he say when he got out of the cab in the St. Kilda Road? He said that the deceased would not let him take him home, and that he would walk back to Melbourne. And you asked him where you were to drive the deceased to? Yes, and he said that the deceased lived either in Grey Street or Ackland Street, St. Kilda, but that the deceased would direct me at the junction. Did you not think that the deceased was too drunk to direct you? Yes, I did, but his friend said that the sleep and the shaking of the cab would sober him a bit by the time I got to the junction. The gentleman in the light coat apparently did not know where the deceased lived.

No, he said it was either in Ackland Street or Gray Street. Did you not think that curious? No, I thought he might be a club friend of the deceased. For how long did the man in the light coat talk to you? About five minutes. And during that time you heard no noise in the cab? No, I thought the deceased had gone to sleep. And after the man in the light coat said good-night to the deceased, what happened? He lit a cigarette, gave me half a sovereign, and walked off towards Melbourne. Did you observe if the gentleman in the light coat had his handkerchief with him? Oh, yes, because he dusted his boots with it. The road was very dusty.

Did you notice any striking peculiarity about him? Well, no, except that he wore a diamond ring. What was there peculiar about that? He wore it on the forefinger of the right hand, and I never saw it. that way before. When did you notice this? When he was lighting his cigarette? How often did you call to the deceased when you got to the junction? Three or four times. I then got down and found he was quite dead. How was he lying? He was doubled up in the far corner of the cab, very much in the same position as I left him when I put him in. His head was hanging on one side, and there was a

handkerchief across his mouth. When I touched him, he fell into the other corner of the cab, and then I found that he was dead. I immediately drove to the St. Kilda police station and told the police. At the conclusion of Royston's evidence, during which Gorby had been continually taking notes, Robert Chinston was called. He deposed, I am a duly qualified medical practitioner, residing in Collins Street East. I made a post-mortem examination of the body of the deceased on Friday. That was within a few hours of his death?

Yes, judging from the position of the handkerchief and the presence of chloroform, that the deceased had died from the effects of anesthesia, and knowing how rapidly the poison evaporates, I made the examination at once. Go on, sir, Dr. Chinstin. Externally, the body was healthy-looking and well-nourished. There were no marks of violence. The staining apparent at the back of the legs and trunk was due to post-mortem congestion.

Internally, the brain was hyper-enemic, and there was a considerable amount of congestion, especially apparent in the superficial vessels. There was no brain disease. The lungs were healthy, but slightly congested. On opening the thorax, there was a faint, spiritous odor discernible. The stomach contained about a pint of completely digested food. The heart was flaccid. The right heart contained a considerable quantity of dark, fluid blood. There was a tendency to fatty degeneration of that organ. I am of the opinion that the deceased died from the inhalation of some such vapor as chloroform or methylene.

You say there was a tendency to fatty degeneration of the heart? Would that have anything to do with the death of the deceased? Not of itself, but chloroform administered while the heart was in such a state would have a decided tendency to accelerate the fatal result. At the same time, I may mention that the post-mortem signs of poisoning by chloroform are most negative. Dr. Chinston was then permitted to retire, and Clement Rankin, another handsome cabman, was called. He deposed, "'I'm a cabman, living in Collingwood, and usually drive a handsome cab. I remember Thursday last. I had driven a party down to St. Kilda, and was returning about half-past one o'clock. A short distance past the grammar school I was hailed by a gentleman in

a light coat. He was smoking a cigarette, and told me to drive him to Powlett Street, east Melbourne. I did so, and he got out at the corner of Wellington Parade in Powlett Street. He paid me half a sovereign for my fare, and then walked to you. up Pallet Street while I drove back to town. What time was it when you stopped at Pallet Street? Two o'clock, exactly. How do you know? Because it was still night, and I heard the post-office clock strike two o'clock.

Did you notice anything peculiar about the man in the light coat? No, he looked just the same as anyone else. I thought he was some swell of the town out for a lark. His hat was pulled down over his eyes, and I could not see his face. Did you notice if he wore a ring? Yes, I did. When he was handing me the half-sovereign, I saw he had a dime. and ring on the forefinger of his right hand. He did not say why he was on the sent

killed a road at such an hour. No, he did not. Clement Rankin was then ordered to stand down, and the coroner then summed up in an address of a half an hour's duration. There was, he pointed out, no doubt that the death of the deceased had resulted not from natural causes, but from the effects of poisoning. Only slight evidence had been obtained up to the present time regarding the circumstances of the case, but the only person who could be accused of committing the crime was the unknown man who entered the cab with the deceased on Friday morning at the corner of the Scotch Church near the Birkenwills monument. It had been proved that the deceased, when he entered the cab, was to all appearances in good health, though in a state of intoxication, and the fact that he was

found by the cabman, Royston, after the man in the light coat had left the cab, with a handkerchief, saturated with chloroform, tied over his mouth, would seem to show that he had died through the inhalation of chloroform, which had been deliberately administered. All the obtainable evidence in the case was circumstantial, but nevertheless showed conclusively that a crime had been committed. Therefore, as the circumstances of the case pointed to one conclusion, the jury could not do otherwise than frame a verdict in accordance with that conclusion. The jury retired at four o'clock, and after an absence of a quarter of an hour returned

with the following verdict, that the deceased, whose name there is no evidence to determine, died on the 27th of July from the effects of poison, namely chloroform, philome, philome, administered by some person unknown, and the jury on their oaths say that the said unknown person feloniously, willfully, and maliciously did murder the said deceased. End of Chapter 2, read by Sabella Denton. For more free audiobooks or to volunteer, please visit Librevox.org. Chapter 3 of Mystery of a Handsome Cab by Fergus Hume. Read for Libravox.org into the public domain.

100 pounds reward V.R. Murder. 100 pounds reward. Whereas on Friday the 27th of July, the body of a man, name unknown, was found in a handsome cab, and whereas, at an inquest held at St. Kilda on the 30th day of July, a verdict of willful murder against some person unknown was brought in by the jury. The deceased is of medium height, with a dark complexion, dark hair, clean-saved, has a mole on the left temple and was dressed in evening dress. Notice is hereby given that a reward of one hundred pounds will be paid by the government for such information as will lead to the conviction of the murderer, who is presumed to be a man who entered the handsome cab with the deceased, at the corner of

Rollins and Russell Streets, on the morning of the 27th day of July. End of Chapter 3, read by Sabella Denton. For more free audiobooks or to volunteer, please visit Librevox.org. Chapter 4 of Mystery of a Handsome Cab by Fergus Hume. Read for Libravox.org, into the public domain. Mr. Gorby makes a start. Well, said Mr. Gorby, addressing his reflection in the looking-glass, I've been finding out things these last twenty years, but this is a puzzler and no mistake.

Mr. Gorby was shaving, and as was his usual custom, conversed with his reflection. Being a detective, and of an extremely reticent disposition, he never talked outside about his business or made a confidant of anyone. When he did want to unbosom himself, he retired to his bedroom and talked to his reflection in the mirror. This method of procedure he found to work capitally, for it relieved his sometimes overburdened mind with absolute security to himself. Did not the barber of Midas, when he found out what was under the royal crown of his master, fret and chafe over his secret, until one morning he stole out to the reeds by the river and whispered, Midas has ass's ears! In the like manner Mr. Gorby fell out.

a longing at times to give speech to his innermost secrets, and having no fancy for chattering to the air, he made his mirror his confidant. So far it had never betrayed him, while for the rest it joyed him to see his own jolly red face nodding gravely at him from out of the shining surface, like a mandarin. This morning the detective was unusually animated in his confidences to his mirror. At times, too, a puzzled expression would pass over his face. The handsome cab-murder had been placed in his hands for solution, and he was trying to think how he should make a beginning. "'Hang it!' he said, thoughtfully strapping his razor. "'A thing with an end must have a start, and if I don't get the start, how am I to get the end?'

As the mirror did not answer this question, Mr. Gorby lathered his face and started shaving in a somewhat mechanical fashion, for his thoughts were with the case, and he ran on in this manner. "'Here's a man, well, say a gentleman, who gets drunk, and therefore doesn't know what he's up to. Another gent who is on the square comes up and sings out for a cab for him. First he says he don't know him, and then he shows plain that he does. He walks away in a temper, changes his mind, comes back and gets into the cab, after telling the cabby to drive down to St. Kilda. Then he polishes the drunk one off with chloroform, gets out of the cab,

jumps into another, and after getting out at Pallet Street, vanishes. That's the riddle I've got to find out, and I don't think the Sphinx ever had a harder one. There are three things to be discovered. First, who is the dead man? Second, what was he killed for? And third, who did it? Once I get hold of the first, the other two won't be very hard to find out, for one can tell pretty well from a man's life whether it's to anyone's interest that he should

be got off the books. The man that murdered that chap must have had some strong motive, and I must find out what that motive was. Love? No, that wasn't it. Men in love don't go to such lengths in real life. They do in novels and plays, but I've never seen it occurring in my experience. Robbery? No, there was plenty of money in his pocket.

Revenge? Now, really, it might be that. It's a kind of thing that carries most people further than they want to go. There was no violence used, for his clothes weren't torn, so he must have been taken sudden, and before he knew what the other chap was up to. By the way, I don't think I examined his clothes sufficiently. There might be something about them to give a clue. At any rate, it's worth looking after, so I'll start with his clothes. So Mr. Gorby, having dressed and breakfasted, walked quietly to the police station, where he asked for the clothes of the deceased to be shown to him. When he received them, he retired into a corner and commenced an exhaustive examination of them.

There was nothing remarkable about the coat. It was merely a well-cut and well-made dress-coat, so that with a grunt of dissatisfaction Mr. Gorby threw it aside and picked up the waistcoat. here he found something to interest him in the shape of a pocket made on the left-hand side and on the inside of the garment now what the deuce is this for said mr gorby scratching his head it ain't usual for a dress waistcoat to have a pocket in its inside as i'm aware of and continued the detective greatly excited this ain't taylor's work he did it himself and jolly badly he did it too now he must have taken the trouble to make this pocket himself so that no one else would know anything about it and it was made to carry something valuable so valuable that he had to carry it with him even when he wore evening clothes ah here's a tear on the side nearest the outside of the waistcoat something has been pulled out roughly i begin to see now the dead man possessed something which the other man wanted and he was a tear on the side near as the outside of the waistcoat something which the other man wanted and he was a tear had been pulled out roughly i begin to see now The dead man possessed something which the other man wanted, and which he knew the dead one carried about with him. He sees him drunk, gets into the cab with him, and tries to get what he wants. The dead man resists, upon which the other kills him by means of the chloroform which he had with him,

and being afraid that the gab will stop, and he will be found out, snatches what he wants out of the pocket so quickly that he tears the waistcoat and then makes off. That's clear enough, but the question is, what was it he wanted? A case with jewels? No, it could not have been anything so bulky, or the dead man would never have carried it about inside his waistcoat. It was something hat, which could easily lie in the pocket, a paper, some valuable paper which the assassin wanted, and for which he killed the other. "'This is all very well,' said Mr. Gorby, throwing down the waistcoat and rising. "'I have found number two before number one. The first question is, who is the murdered man?

He's a stranger in Melbourne, that's pretty clear, or else someone would have been sure to recognize him before now by the description given in the reward. Now, I wonder if he has any relations here. No, he can't, or else they would have made inquiries before this. Well, there's one thing certain he must have had a landlady or landlord unless he slept in the open air. He can't have lived in an hotel, as the landlord of any hotel in Melbourne would have recognized him from the description, especially when the whole place is ringing with the murder. Private lodgings, more like, and a landlady who doesn't read the papers and doesn't gossip, or she's she'd have known all about it by this time.

Now, if he did live, as I think in private lodgings, and suddenly disappeared, his landlady wouldn't keep quiet. It's a whole week since the murder, and as the lodger has not been seen or heard of, the landlady will naturally make inquiries. If, however, as I surmised, the lodger is a stranger, she will not know where to inquire. Therefore, under these circumstances, the most natural thing for her to do would be to advertise for him, so I'll have a look at the newspapers. Mr. Gorby got a file of the different newspapers and looked carefully through those columns

in which missing friends and people who will hear something to their advantage are generally advertised for. He was murdered, said Mr. Gorby to himself, on a Friday morning, between one and two o'clock, so he might stay away till Monday without exciting any suspicion. On Monday, however, the landlady would begin to feel uneasy, and on Tuesday she would advertise for him. Therefore, said Mr. Gorby, running his fat finger down the column, Wednesday it is. It did not appear in Wednesday's paper, neither did it in Thursdays, but in Friday's

issue, exactly one week after the murder, Mr. Gorby suddenly came upon the following advertisement. If Mr. Oliver White does not return to Possum Villa, Grey Street, St. Kilda, before the end of the week, his rooms will be let again. Rubina Hableton. Oliver White, repeated Mr. Gorby slowly, and the initials on the pocket-handkerchief, which was proved to have belonged to the deceased, were owed to him. So his name was Oliver White, is it? Now, I wonder if Rubina Hableton knows anything about this matter. At any rate, said Mr. Gorby, putting on his hat, as I'm fond of sea breezes,

I think I'll go down and call it Possum Villa, Grey Street, St. Kilda. End of Chapter 4, read by Sabella Denton. For more free audiobooks or to volunteer, please visit Librevox.org. Chapter 5 of Mystery of a Handsome Cab by Fergus Hume. Read for Libravocs.org into the public domain. mrs hableton unbosoms herself mrs hableton was a lady with a grievance as anybody who happened to become acquainted with her soon found out it is beaconsfield who says in one of his novels that no one is so interesting as when he is talking about himself and judging mrs haibleton by this statement she was an extremely fascinating individual as she never by any chance talked upon any other subject what was the threat of a russian invasion to her so long as she had her special grievance once let that be removed and she would have time to attend to such minor details as affected the colony mrs hapleton's particular grievance was want of money not by any means an uncommon one you might remind her but she snappishly would tell you that she knowed that but some people weren't like other people

in time one came to learn what she meant by this she had come to the colonies in the early days days when the making of money in appreciable quantity was an easier matter than it is now owing to a bad husband she had found she had found that she had come to the colonies in the early days days when the making of money in appreciable quantity was an easier matter than it is now owing to a bad husband she had failed to save any the late mr hableton for he had long since departed this life had been addicted to alcohol and at those times when he should have been earning he was usually to be found in a drinking shanty spending his wife's earnings in shouting for himself and his friends the constant drinking and the hot victorian climate soon carried him off and when mrs hableton had seen him safely underground in the melbourne cemetery she returned home to survey her position and see how it could be bettered she gathered together a little money from the wreck of her fortune and land being cheap purchased a small section at st kilda and built a house on it she supported herself by going out charing taking in sewing and acting as a sick nurse so among this multiplicity of occupations she managed to exist fairly well and in truth it was somewhat hard upon mrs hableton for at the time when she should have been resting and reaping the fruit of her early industry she was obliged to toil more assiduously than ever it was little consolation to her that she was but a type of many women who hard-working and thrifty themselves are married to men who are nothing but an incubus to their wives and to their families small wonder then that mrs hableton should condense all her knowledge of the male sex into the one bitter aphorism men is bruce possum villa was an unpretentious looking place with one bow-shaped window and a narrow veranda in front it was surrounded by a small garden in which there were a few sparse flowers the especial delight of mrs hableton it was her way to tie an old handkerchief round her head and go out into the garden and dig and water her beloved flowers until from sheer desperation at the overwhelming odds they gave up all attempt to grow

she was engaged in this favorite occupation about a week after her lodger had gone she wondered where he was lying drunk in a public-house i'll be bound she said viciously pulling up a weed a spendin his rent and a spillin is inside with the beer "'Ah, men is brutes, Dratham.' Just as she said this, a shadow fell across the garden, and on looking up she saw a man leaning over the fence staring at her. "'Get out!' she said, sharply, rising from her knees and shaking her trowl at the intruder. "'I don't want no apples to-day, and I don't care how cheap you sells them.' Mrs. Hableton evidently labored under the delusion that the man was a hawker, but seeing no hand-cart with him she changed her mind.

"'You're taking a plan of the house to rob it, are you?' she said. "'Well, you needn't, because there ain't nothing to rob. The silver spoons as belonged to my father's mother, having gone down my husband's throat long ago, and I ain't add money to buy more. I'm a lone person, as put on by brutes like you, and I'll thank you to leave the fence I bought with my own ardorne money alone, and get out.' Mrs. Hableton stopped short for want of breath, and stood shaking her trowl, and gasping like a fish out of water.

"'My dear lady,' said the man at the fence mildly, "'are you—' "'No, I ain't,' retorted Mrs. Habbleton fiercely. I ain't neither a member of the ouse nor a school teacher to answer your questions. I'm a woman as pays my rates and taxes, and don't gossip nor read your rubbish in newspapers, nor care for the rushings, no-how, so get out. Don't read the papers, repeated the man in a satisfied tone. Ah, that accounts for it. Mrs. Hableton stared suspiciously at the intruder. He was a burly-looking man, with a jovial red

face, clean-shaven, and his sharp, shrewd-looking gray eyes twinkled like two stars. he was well dressed in a suit of light clothes and wore a stiffly starched white waistcoat with a massive gold chain stretched across it altogether he gave mrs hableton finally the impression of being a well-to-do tradesman and she mentally wondered what he wanted what do you want she asked abruptly does mr oliver white live here asked the stranger he do and he don't answered mrs hableton epigrammatically i ain't seen him for over a week and i suppose he's gone on the drink like the rest of em but i've put something in the paper as i'll pull him up pretty sharp and let him know i ain't a carpet to be trod on and if you're a friend of em you can tell him for me he's a brute and it ain't no more but what i've expected of him e bein a male the stranger waited placidly during the outburst and mrs hableton having stopped for want of breath he interposed quietly can i speak to you for a few moments and oo's a stoppin of you said mrs hayleton defiantly go on with you not as i expects the truth from my mail but go on well really said the other looking up the cloudless blue sky and wiping his face with a gaudy red silk pocket-hacket It is rather hot, you know, and Mrs. Hableton did not give him time to finish, but walking to the gate opened it with a jerk. "' Use your legs and walk in,' she said, and the stranger having done so, she led the way

into the house, and into a small, neat sitting-room, which seemed to overflow with antimacassars, wool-mats, and wax flowers. There were also a row of emu-egs on the mantelpiece, a cutlass on the wall, and a grimy line of hard-looking little books, set in a stiff row on a shelf, presumably, for ornament, for their appearance in no way tempted one to read them. The furniture was of horsehair, and everything was hard and shiny, so when the stranger sat down on the slippery-looking arm-chair that Mrs. Hableton pushed toward him, he could not help thinking it had been stuffed with stones. It felt so cold and hard.

The lady herself sat opposite to him in another hard chair, and having taken the handkerchief off her head, folded it carefully, laid it on her lap, and then looked straight at her unexpected visitor. "'Now then,' she said, letting her mouth fly open so rapidly that it gave one the impression that it was moved by strings like a marionette. "'Who are you? What are you? And what do you want?' The stranger put his red silk handkerchief into his hat, placed it on the table, and answered deliberately. "'My name is Gorby. I'm a detective. I want Mr. Oliver White.' "'He ain't here,' said Mrs. Hableton, thinking that White had got into trouble and was in danger

of arrest. "'I know that,' answered Mr. Gorby. "'Then where is he?' Mr. Gorby answered abruptly and watched the effect of his words. "'He is dead.' Mrs. Hableton grew pale and pushed back her chair. "'No,' she cried. "'He never killed him, did he?' "'Who never killed him?' queried Mr. Gorby sharply.

Mrs. Hableton evidently knew more than she intended to say, for recovering herself with a violent effort she answered evasively, "'He never killed himself.' mr gorby looked at her keenly and she returned his gaze with a defiant stare clever muttered the detective to himself knows something more than she chooses to tell but i'll get it out of her he paused for a moment and then went on smoothly oh no he did not commit suicide what makes you think so mrs hapleton did not answer but rising from her seat went over to a hard and shiny-looking sideboard from when she took a bottle of brandy and a small wine-glass half filling the glass she drank it off and returned to her seat i don't take much of that stuff she said eyeing the detective's eyes fixed curiously on you but you have given me such a turn that i must take something to steady my nerves what do you want me to do tell me all you know said mr gorby keeping his eyes fixed on her face where was mr white killed she asked he was murdered in a handsome cab on the st kilda road in the open street she asked in a startled tone yes in the open street ah she drew a long breath and closed her lips firm family. Mr. Gorby said nothing. He saw that she was deliberating whether or not to speak,

and a word from him might seal her lips, so, like a wise man, he kept silent. He obtained his rewards sooner than he had expected. Mr. Gorby, she said at length, I've had a hard struggle all my life, which it came along of a bad husband, who was a brute and a drunkard, so God knows I ain't got much inducement to think well of the lot of you. But—murder! She shivered slightly, though the room was quite warm. I didn't think. of that in connection with whom mr white of course she answered hurriedly and who else i don't know then there is nobody else well i don't know i'm not sure the detective was puzzled what do you mean he asked i will tell you all i know said mrs hableton and if he's innocent god will help him if who is innocent i'll tell you everything from the start said mrs hableton and you can judge for yourself mr gorby assented and she began it's only two months ago since i decided to take in lodgers but charon's ard work and sowing's trying for the eyes so being a lone woman having been badly treated by a brute who is now dead which i was always a good wife to him i thought lodgers had helped me a little so i put a notice in the paper and mr oliver white took the rooms two months ago

what was he like not very tall dark face no whiskers nor moustache and quite the gentleman anything peculiar about him mrs hableton thought for a moment well she said at length he had a mole on his left temple but it was covered with his air and few people would have seen it the very man said gorby to himself i'm on the right path mr white said he'd just come from england went on the woman which thought gorby accounts for the corpse not being recognized by friends he took the rooms and said he'd stay with me for six months and paid a week's rent in advance and he always paid up regular like a respect man, though I don't believe in him myself. He said he'd lots of friends, and used to go out every night. Who were his friends? That I can't tell you, for he were very close, and when he went out of doors I never known where he went, which is just like him, for they says they're going to work, and you find them in the beer-shop. Mr. White told me he was a-going to marry an heiress, he was. Ah, interjected Mr. Gorby, sapiently. He had only one friend as I ever saw, a Mr. Morland,

who come to with him, and was all of you. he's with him brotherlike. What is this Mr. Morland like? Good-looking enough, said Mrs. Ableton sourly, but his abbots weren't as good as his face. Ansome is as Ansome does is what I says. I wonder if he knows anything about this affair, thought Gorby to himself. Where is Mr. Morland to be found? he asked. Not knowing, can't tell, retorted the landlady. He used to be irregular, but I ain't seen him for over a week. Strange, very, said Gorby, shaking his head. I should should like to see this mr morland i suppose it's probable he'll call again abbott be in second nature i s'pose he will answered the woman he might call at any time mostly a-been called at night ah then i'll come down this evening on chance of seeing him replied the detective coincidences happen in real life as well as novels and the gentleman in question may turn up in the nick of time now what else about mr white about two weeks ago or three i'm not certain which a gentleman called to see mr white he was very very

tall and wore a light coat. Ah, a morning coat? No, he was an evening dress and wore a light coat over it, and a soft hat. The very man, said the detective below his breath. Go on. He went into Mr. White's room and shut the door. I don't know how long they were talking together, but I was sitting in this very room and heard their voices get angry, and they were assuaring at one another, which is the way

with men, the brutes. I got up and went into the passage in order to ask him not to make such a noise, when Mr. White's door opens, and the gentleman in the light coat comes out, and bangs along to the door. Mr. White, he comes to the door of his room, and he allers out, she is mine, you can't do anything, and the other turns with his hand on the door and says, I can kill you, and if you marry or I'll do it, even in the open street. Ah, said Mr. Gorby, drawing a long breath, and then? Then he bangs the door, too, which it's never shut easy since, and I ain't got no money to get it put right, and Mr. White walks back to his room laughing. Did he make any remark to you?

No, except he'd been worried by a lunatic. And what was the stranger's name? That I can't tell you, as Mr. White never told me. He was very tall with a fair mustache and dressed as I told you. Mr. Gorby was satisfied. "'That is the man,' he said to himself, who got into the handsome cab and murdered White. There's no doubt of it. White and he were rivals for the heiress. "'What do you think of it?' said Mrs. Hableton, curiously. "'I think,' said Mr. Gourby slowly, with his eyes fixed on her. "'I think that there is a woman at the bottom of this crime.' "'Eend of Chapter 5, read by Sabella Denton.

"'For more free audiobooks or to volunteer, please visit Librevox.org. "'Chapter 6 of Mystery of a Handsome by Fergus Hume "'read for Librevox.org into the public domain. "'Mr. Gourby makes further discoveries. When Mr. Gorby left Possum Villa, no doubt remained in his mind as to who had committed the murder. The gentleman in the light coat had threatened to murder White, even in the open street, these last words being especially significant, and there was no doubt that he had carried out his threat.

The committal of the crime was merely the fulfillment of the words uttered in anger. What the detective had now to do was to find who the gentleman in the light coat was, where he lived, and that done, to ascertain his doings on the night of the three. murder. Mrs. Hableton had described him, but was ignorant of his name, and her very vague description might apply to dozens of young men in Melbourne. There was only one person who, in Mr. Gorby's opinion, could tell the name of the gentleman in the light coat, and that was Morland, the intimate friend of the dead man. They appeared, from the landlady's description to have been so friendly that it was more than likely White would have told Morland all about

his angry visitor. Besides, Morland's knowledge of his dead friend's life and habit, and might be able to supply information on two points, namely, who was most likely to gain by White's death, and who the heiress was that the deceased boasted he would marry. But the fact that Morland should be ignorant of his friend's tragic death, notwithstanding that the papers were full of it, and that the reward gave an excellent description of his personal appearance, greatly puzzled Gorby. The only way in which to account for Morland's extraordinary silence was that he was out of town, and had neither seen the papers nor heard any of the talking about the murder. If this were the case, he might either stay away for an indefinite

time or return after a few days. At all events it was worth going down to St. Kilda in the evening on the chance that Morland might have returned to town, and would call to see his friend. So after his tea Mr. Gorby put on his hat, and went down to Possum Villa, on what he could not help acknowledging to himself was a very slender possibility. Mrs. Hableton opened the door for him, and in silence led the way, not into her own city. room, but into a much more luxuriously furnished apartment, which Gorby guessed at once was that of whites. He looked keenly round the room, and his estimate of the dead man's character was formed at once. "'Fast,' he said to himself, and a spendthrift, a man who would have his friends,

and possibly his enemies, among a very shady lot of people. What led Mr. Gorby to this belief was the evidence which surrounded him of White's mode of life. The room was well furnished, the furniture being covered with dark red velvet, while the curtains on the windows and the carpet were all of the same somewhat sombre hue. "'I did the thing properly,' observed Mrs. Hableton, with a satisfactory smile on her hard face. "'When you want young men to stop with you, the rooms must be well furnished, and Mr. White paid well, though he was rather particular about his food, which I'm only a plain cook, and can't make them French things would spoil the stomach.'

the globes of the gas lamps were of a pale pink colour and mrs haibleton having lit the gas in expectation of mr gorby's arrival there was a soft rosy at hue throughout the room mr gorby put his hands in his capacious pockets and strolled leisurely through the room examining everything with a curious eye the walls were covered with pictures of celebrated horses and famous jockeys alternating with these were photographs of ladies of the stage mostly london actresses nellie farren kate and-andes Kate Vaughan and other burlesque stars, evidently being the objects of the late Mr. White's adoration. Over the mantelpiece hung a rack of pipes, above which were two crossed foils, and under these a number of plush frames of all colours, with pretty faces smiling out of them. A remarkable fact being that all the photographs were of ladies, and not a single male face was to be seen, either on the walls or in the plush frames.

"'Fond of the ladies I see,' said Mr. Gorby, nodding his head towards the mantelpiece. a set of hussies said mrs haibleton grimly closing her lips tightly i feel that as shames when i dust em's it never was i don't believe in gals gettin their pictures taken with ardly any clothes are on as if they just got out of bed but mr white seems to like em "'Most young men do,' answered Mr. Gorby dryly, going over to the bookcase. "'Brews!' said the lady of the house. "'I'd throw them down the yarrer, I would, assutting themselves and calling themselves lords of creation, as if women were made for nothing but to earn money and see them drink it, as my husband did, which is inside never seemed to have enough beer, and me a poor lone woman with no family, thank God, or they'd have taken out of their fodder

and his drinking habits.' Mr. Gorby took no notice of this tirade against men, but stood looking at Mr. Mr. White's library, which seemed to consist mostly of French novels and sporting newspapers. "'Zola,' said Mr. Gourby, thoughtfully, taking down a flimsy yellow book rather tattered. "'I've heard of him, if his novels are as bad of his reputation I shouldn't care to read them.' Here a knock came at the front door, loud and decisive. On hearing it Mrs. Hableton sprang hastily to her feet. "'That may be Mr. Morland,' she said, as the detective quickly replaced Zola in the bookcase. I never have visitors in the evening, being a lone widder, and if it is

him I'll bring him in ear. She went out, and presently, Gorby, who was listening intently, heard a man's voice asked if Mr. White was at home. "'No, sir, he ain't,' answered the landlady, but there's a gentleman in his room asking after him. Won't you come in, sir?' "'For a rest, yes,' returned the visitor, and immediately afterwards Mrs. Hableton appeared, ushering in the late Oliver White's most intimate friend. He was a tall, slender man, with a pink and white complexion, curly, fair hair, and a drooping, straw-colored mustache, altogether a strikingly aristocratic individual. He was well-dressed in a suit of check, and had a cool, nonchalant air about him. And where is Mr. White to-night? he asked, sinking into a chair,

and taking no more notice of the detective than if he had been an article of furniture. "'Haven't you seen him lately?' asked the detective quickly. Mr. Morland stared in an insolent manner at his questioner for a few moments, as if he were debating the advisability of answering or not. At last he apparently decided that he would, for slowly pulling off one glove he leaned back in his chair. No, I have not, he said with the yawn. I've been up in the country for a few days and arrived back only this evening, so I have not seen him for over a week. Why do you ask? The detective did not answer, but stood looking at the young man before him in a thoughtful manner. I hope, said Mr. Morrillon nonchalantly,

"'I hope you will know me again, my friend, but I didn't know White had started a lunatic asylum during my absence. Who are you?' Mr. Gorby came forward and stood under the gaslight. "'My name is Gorby, sir, and I am a detective,' he said quietly. "'Ah, indeed,' said Morland, coolly looking him up and down. "'What has White been doing, running away with someone's wife, eh? I know he has a little weakness of the sort.' "'Gorby shook his head.

"'Do you know where Mr. White is to be found?' he asked, cautiously. morland laughed not i my friend he said lightly i presume he of somewhere about here as these are his headquarters what has he been doing nothing that can surprise me i assure you he was always an erratic individual and-he paid regular interrupted mrs hableton pursing up her lips a most enviable reputation to possess answered the other with a sneer and one i'm afraid i'll never enjoy but why all this questioning about white what's the matter with him he's dead said gorbury abruptly all Morland's nonchalance vanished on hearing this, and he started up from his chair. "'Dead!' he repeated mechanically. "'What do you mean?' "'I mean that Mr. Oliver White was murdered in a handsome cab. Morland stared at the detective in a puzzled sort of way, and passed his hand across his forehead.

"'Excuse me, my head is in a whirl,' he said as he sat down again. "'White, murdered! He was all right when I left him nearly two weeks ago.' "'Avince you seen the papers?' asked Gorby. "'Not for the last two weeks,' replied Morland. "'I have been up-country, and it was only on arriving back in town to-night that I heard about the murder at all, as my landlady gave me a garbled account of it. But I never for a moment connected it with White, and I came down here to see him, as I had agreed to do when I left.

"'Poor fellow! Poor fellow! "'Poor fellow!' And much overcome, he buried his face in his hands. Mr. Gorby was touched by his evident distress, and even Mrs. Hableton permitted a small tear. to roll down one hard cheek as a tribute of sorrow and sympathy. Presently, Morland raised his head, and spoke to Gorby in a husky tone. "'Tell me all about it,' he said, leaning his cheek on his hand. "'Everything you know.'

He placed his elbows on the table, and buried his face in his hands again, while the detective sat down and related all that he knew about White's murder. When it was done he lifted up his head and looked sadly at the detective. "'If I had been in town,' he said, "'this would not have happened, always beside White. "'You knew him very well, sir,' said the detective in a sympathetic tone. "'We were like brothers,' replied Morland, mournfully.

"'I came out from England in the same steamer with him, and used to visit him constantly here.' Mrs. Hableton nodded her head to imply that such was the case. "'In fact,' said Morland, after a moment's thought, "'I believe I was with him on the night he was murdered.' Mrs. Hableton gave a slight scream, and threw her apron over her face, but the detective sat unmoved, though Morland's last remark had startled him considerably. "'What's the matter?' said Morland, turning to Mrs. Hableton.

"'Don't be afraid. I didn't kill him. No, but I met him last Thursday week, and I left for the country on Friday morning at half-past six.' "'And what time did you meet White on Thursday night?' asked Corby. "'Let me see,' said Morland, crossing his legs and looking thoughtfully up to the ceiling. It was about half-past nine o'clock. I was in the Orient Hotel in Burke Street. We had a drink together, and then went up the street to an hotel in Russell Street, where we had another. "'In fact,' said Morland, coolly, "'we had several other drinks.' "'Bruits,' muttered Mrs. Hableton, below her breath.

"'Yes,' said Gorby placidly. Go on. "'Well, of—it's hardly the thing to confess it,' said Morland, looking from one to the other with a pleasant smile. But in a case like this I feel it my duty to throw all social scruples aside. We both became very drunk. "'Ah, White was, as we know, drunk when he got into the cab, and you—' "'I was not quite so bad as White,' answered the other. "'I had my senses about me. "'I fancy he left the hotel some minutes before one o'clock on Friday morning.

"'And what did you do?' "'I remained in the hotel. "'He left his overcoat behind him, and I picked it up and followed him shortly afterwards to return it. "'I was too drunk to see in which direction he had gone, "'and stood leaning against the hotel door in Bork Street with the coat in my hand. then some one came up and snatching the coat from me made off with it and the last thing i remember was shouting stop thief then i must have fallen down for the next morning i was in bed with all my clothes on and they were very muddy I got up and left town for the country by the six-thirty train, so I knew nothing about the matter until I came back to Melbourne to-night. That's all I know. And you had no impression that

White was watched that night? No, I had not, answered Morland, frankly. He was in pretty good spirits, though he was put out at first. What was the cause of his being put out? Morland arose, and going to a side table, brought White's album, which he laid on the table and opened in silence. The contents were very much the same as the photograph. in the room, burlesque actresses and ladies of the ballet predominating, but Mr. Morland turned over the pages till nearly the end, when he stopped at a large cabinet photograph and pushed the album towards Mr. Gorby. That was the cause, he said. It was the portrait of a charmingly pretty girl, dressed in white, with a sailor hat on her fair hair, and holding a lawn-tennis racket.

She was bending half forward with a winning smile, and in the background blew to mass of tropical plants. Mrs. Hableton uttered a cry of surprise at seeing this. "'Why, it's Miss Fredelby,' she said. "'How did he know her?' "'Knew her father, letter of introduction and all that sort of thing,' said Mr. Morland glibly. "'Ah, indeed,' said Mr. Gorby slowly. "'So Mr. White knew Mark Fredelby, the millionaire.

But how did he obtain a photograph of the daughter?' "'She gave it to him,' said Morland. "'The fact is, White was very much in love with Miss Friddleby.' "'And she—' "'Was in love. with someone else, finished Morland. Exactly. She loved a Mr. Brian Fitzgerald, to whom she is now engaged.

He was mad on her, and White and he used to quarrel desperately over the young lady. Indeed, said Mr. Gorby, and do you know this Mr. Fitzgerald? Oh, dear, no, answered the other, coolly. White's friends were not mine. He was a rich young man who had good introductions. I am only a poor devil on the outskirts of society, trying to push my way in the world. "'You are acquainted with his personal appearance, of course,' observed Mr. Gourby. "'Oh, yes, I can describe that,' said Morland.

"'In fact, he's not at all unlike me, which I take to be rather a compliment, as he is said to be good-looking. He is tall, rather fair, talks in a board sort of matter, and is all together what woman call a heavy swell. But you must have seen him,' he went on, turning to Mrs. Hableton. He was here three or four weeks ago, White told me. "'Oh, that was Mr. Fitzgerald, was it?' said Mrs. Hableton, and surprise. Yes, he is rather like you. The lady they quarrelled over must have been Miss

Fredelby." "'Very likely,' said Morland, rising. "'Well, I'm off. Here's my address,' putting a card in Gorby's hand. "'I'm glad to be of any use to you in this matter, as why it was my dearest friend, and I'll do all in my power to help you find out the murderer.' "'I don't think that is a very difficult matter,' said Mr. Gorby slowly. "'Oh, you have your suspicions?' asked Morland, looking at him. "'I have.' think murdered white? Mr. Gorby paused a moment and then said deliberately, I have an idea, but I'm not certain. When I'm certain I'll speak. You think Fitzgerald

killed my friend, said Morland. I see it in your face. Mr. Gorby smiled. Perhaps, he said ambiguously. Wait till I am certain. End of Chapter 6. Read by Sabella Denton. For more free audiobooks or to volunteer, please visit Librebox.org. of Mystery of a Handsome Cab by Fergus Hume, read for Librabox.org into the public domain. The Wool King. The old Greek legend of Midas turning everything he touched into gold is truer than most people imagine. Medieval superstition changed the human being who possessed such a power into the philosopher's stone, the stone which so many alchemists sought in the dark ages. But we of the 19th century have given back into human hands this power

of transformation. But we do not ascribe it either to a Greek deity. or to superstition. We call it luck. And he who possesses luck should be happy, notwithstanding, the proverb which hints to the contrary. Luck means more than riches. It means happiness in most of those things, which the fortunate possessor of it may choose to touch. Should he speculate he is successful, if he marry, his wife will surely prove everything to be desired. Should he aspire to a position, social or political, he not only attains it, but does so with comparative ease. worldly wealth domestic happiness high position and complete success all these things belong to the man who has luck mark fredelby was one of those fortunate individuals and his luck was proverbial throughout australia if there was any speculation for which mark fredelby went in other men would surely follow and in every case the result turned out as well and in many cases even better than they expected he had come out in the early days of the colony with comparatively little money but he had come out in the early days of the colony with comparatively little money but he had come out in the early days of the colony with comparatively little money but he had

His great perseverance and never-failing luck had soon changed his hundreds into thousands, and now at the age of 55 he did not himself know the extent of his income. He had large stations scattered all over the colony of Victoria, which brought him in a splendid income, a charming country house, where at certain seasons of the year he dispensed hospitality to his friends, and a magnificent townhouse down in St. Kilda, which would not have been unworthy of Park Lane. Nor were his domestic relations less happy. He had a charming wife, who was one of the best known and most popular ladies of Melbourne,

and an equally charming daughter, who, being both pretty and an heiress, naturally attracted crowds of suitors. But Madge Fredelby was capricious, and refused innumerable offers. Being an extremely independent young person, with a mind of her own, she decided to remain single, as she had not yet seen anyone she could love, and with her mother continued to dispense the hospitality of the mansion at St. Kilda. But the fairy prince comes at length to every woman, and in this instance he came at his appointed time, in the person of one Brian Fitzgerald, a tall, handsome, fair-haired young man hailing from Ireland.

He had left behind him in the old country a ruined castle and a few acres of barren land, inhabited by discontented tenants, who refused to pay the rent, and talk darkly about the land-league and other agreeable things. Under these circumstances, with no rent coming in and no prospect of doing anything in the future, in the future, Brian had left the castle of his forefathers to the rats and the family at Banshee, and had come out to Australia to make his fortune. He brought letters of introduction to Mark Fredelby, and that gentleman, taking a fancy to him, assisted him by every means in his power.

Under Fredelby's advice, Brian bought a station, and to his astonishment in a few years he found himself growing rich. The Fitzgeralds had always been more famous for spending than for saving, and it was an agreeable surprise to their latest representative to find the month. running in instead of out. He began to indulge in castles in the air concerning that other castle in Ireland, with the barren acres and discontented tenants. In his mind's eye he saw the old place rise up in all its pristine splendour from out its ruins. He saw the barren acres well cultivated, and the tenants happy and content. He was rather doubtful on this latter point,

but with the rash confidence of age and twenty, determined to do his best to perform even the impossible. Having built and furnished his cavernished his cow-reacted, in the air, Brian naturally thought of giving it a mistress, and this time actual appearance took the place of vision. He fell in love with Madge Fredelby, and having decided in his own mind that she and none other was fitted to grace the visionary halls of his renovated castle, he watched his opportunity, and declared himself. She, womanlike, coquetted with him for some time, but at last, unable to withstand the impetuosity of her Irish lover, confessed in a low voice, with a pretty smile on her face, that she could not live.

live without him. Whereupon, well, lovers being of a conservative turn of mind, and accustomed to observe the traditional forms of wooing, the result can easily be guessed. Brian hunted all over the jeweller's shops in Melbourne with lover-like assiduity, and having obtained a ring wherein were set turquoise stones as blue as his own eyes, he placed it on her slender finger, and at last felt that his engagement was an accomplished fact. He next proceeded to interview the father, and had just screwed up his courage to the awful ordeal when something occurred which postponed the interview indefinitely. Mrs. Fredelby was out driving, and the horses took fright and bolted. The coach and groom both escaped unhurt, but Mrs. Fredelby was thrown out and killed instantly. This was the first

really great trouble which had fallen on Mark Fredelby, and he seemed stunned by it. Shutting himself up in his room he refused to see anyone, even his daughter, and appeared at the funeral with a white and haggard face which shocked everyone. When everything was over, and the body of the late Mrs. Freddleby was consigned to the earth, with all the pomp and ceremony which money could give, the bereaved husband rode home and resumed his old life. But he was never the same again. His face, which had always been so genial and so bright, became stern and sad.

He seldom smiled, and when he did it was a faint, wintry smile, which seemed mechanical. His whole interest in life was centered in his daughter. she became the sole mistress of the st kilda mansion and her father idolized her she was apparently the one thing left to him which gave him a pleasure in existence in truth had it not been for her bright presence mark fredelby would have been lying beside his dead wife in the quiet graveyard after a time brian again resolved to ask mr fredelby for the hand of his daughter but for the second time fate interposed a rival suitor made his appearance and brian's hot irish temper rose in anger at him mr oliver white had come out from england a few months previously bringing with him a letter of introduction to mr fredelby who received him hospitably as was his custom taking advantage of this white lost no time in making himself perfectly at home in the st kilda mansion from the outset brian took a dislike to the newcomer he was a student of lativer and prided himself on his perspicuity in reading character his opinion of white was anything but flattering to that gentleman while madge shared his repulsion towards the newcomer on his part mr white was nothing if not diplomatic he affected not to notice the coldness of madge's reception of him on the contrary he began to pay her the most marked attentions much to bryan's disgust at length he asked her to be his wife and notwithstanding her prompt refusal spoke to her father on the subject much to the astonishment of his daughter mr fredelby not only consented to white paying his addresses to madge but gave that young lady to understand that he wished her to consider his proposals favourably

in spite of all madge could say he refused to alter his decision and white feeling himself safe began to treat brian with an insolence which was highly galling to fitzgerald's proud nature he had called on white at his lodgings and after a violent quarrel he had left the house vowing to kill him should he marry madge fredelby the same night fitzgerald had an interview with mr fredelby he confessed that he loved madge and that his love was returned so when madge added her entreaties to bryans mr fredelby found himself unable to withstand the combined forces and gave his consent to their engagement white was absent in the country for the next few days after his stormy interview with brian and it was only on his return that he learnt that madge was engaged to his rival he saw mr fredelby and having learnt from his own lips that such was the case he left the house at once and swore that he would never enter it again he little knew how prophetic were his words for on that same night he met his death in the handsome cab he had passed out of the life of both of the lovers and they glad that he troubled them no more never suspected for a moment that the body of the unknown man found in royston's cab was that of oliver white about two weeks after white's disappearance mr fredelby gave a dinner party in honor of his daughter's birthday it was a delightful evening and the wide french windows which led on to the veranda were open letting in a gentle breeze from the ocean outside there was a kind of scream of tropical plants, and through the tangle of the boughs of the guests seated at the table, could just see the waters of the bay glittering in the pale moonlight. Brian was seated opposite to Madge,

and every now and then he caught a glimpse of her bright face from behind the fruit and flowers, which stood in the center of the table. Mark Fredelby was at the head of the table, and appeared in very good spirits. His stern features were somewhat relaxed, and he drank more wine than usual. The soup had just been removed when someone, who was late, entered the room with apologies and took his seat. Someone in this case was Mr. Felix Rolliston, one of the best-known young men in Melbourne. He had an income of his own, scribbled a little for the papers, was to be seen at every house of any pretensions in Melbourne, and was always bright, happy, and full of news.

For details of any scandal you were safe in applying to Felix Rawleston. He knew all that was going on, both at home and abroad, and his knowledge, if not very accurate, was at least extensive, while his conversation was, was piquant and at times witty calton one of the leading lawyers of the city remarked that rolliston put him a mind of what beaconsfields said of one of the personages in lother he wasn't an intellectual croesus but his pockets were always full of sixpences be it said in his favour that felix was free with his sixpences the conversation which had shown signs of languishing before his arrival now brightened up so awfully sorry don't you know said felix as he slipped into a seat by madge But a fellow like me has got to be careful of his time. So many calls on it.' "'So many calls in it, you mean,' retorted Madge, with a disbelieving smile.

"'Confess now, you have been paying around to visits.' "'Well, yes,' assented Mr. Rawliston. "'That's the disadvantage of having a large circle of acquaintances. They give you weak tea and thin bread and butter, whereas—' "'You would rather have something else,' finished Brian. There was a laugh at this, but Mr. Rawlison disdained to notice the interruption. The only advantage of five o'clock tea, he went on, is that it brings people together, and one hears what's going on.

"'Ah, yes, Rolston,' said Mr. Fredelby, who was looking at him with an amused smile. "'What news of you?' "'Good news, bad news, and such news as you had never heard of,' quoted Rolston, gravely. "'Yes, I have a bit of news. Haven't you heard it?' Ralliston felt he held sensation in his hands. There was nothing he liked better. "'Well, do you know,' he said, gravely fixing in his eye-glass. they have found out the name of the fellow who was murdered in the handsome cab.

Never, cried everyone eagerly. Yes, went on Rolliston, and what's more, you all know him. It's never White, said Brian in a horrified tone. Hang it, how did you know? said Rolliston, rather annoyed at being forestalled. Why, I just heard it at the St. Kilda Station. Oh, easily enough, said Brian, rather confused. I used to meet White constantly, and as I have not seen him for the last two weeks, I thought he might be the victim.

"'How did they find out?' asked Mr. Fredelby, idly toying with his wine-glass. "'Oh, one of those detective fellows, you know,' answered Felix. "'They know everything.' "'I'm sorry to hear it,' said Fredelby, referring to the fact that White was murdered. "'He had a letter of introduction to me, and seemed a clever, pushing, young fellow.' "'A confounded Cad,' murdered Felix under his breath, "'and Brian, who overheard him, seemed inclined to assent. "'For the rest of the meal nothing was talked about but the murder

and the mystery in which it was shrouded. When the ladies retired, they chatted about it in the drawing-room, but finally dropped it for more agreeable subjects. The men, however, when the cloth was removed, filled their glasses, and continued the discussion with unabated vigor. Brian alone did not take part in the conversation. He sat moodily staring at his untasted wine, wrapped in a brown study. "'What I can't make out,' observed Roliston, who was amusing himself with cracking nuts,

is why they did not find out who he was before. That is not hard to answer, said Fredelby, filling his glass. He was comparatively little known here, as he had been out from England such a short time, and I fancy that this was the only house at which he visited. "'And look here, Rolston,' said Carlton, who was sitting near him, if you were to find a man dead in a handsome cab, dressed in evening clothes, which nine men out of ten are in the habit of wearing in the evening, no cards in his pocket and no name on his linen,

I rather think you would find it hard to discover who he was. I consider it reflects great credit on the police for finding out so quickly. Puts one in mind of the Leavenworth case and all that sort of thing, said Felix, whose reading was of the lightest description. Awfully exciting, like putting a Chinese puzzle together. Gad, I wouldn't mind being a detective myself. I'm sure if that was the case, said Mr. Fredelby, with an amused smile. Criminals would be pretty safe.

Oh, I don't know so much about that, answered Felix shrewdly. "'Some fellows are like a trifle at a party, froth on top, but something better underneath.' "'What a greedy smile!' said Calton, sipping his wine. "'But I'm afraid the police will have a more difficult task in discovering the man who committed the crime. In my opinion he's a deuced clever fellow.' "'Then you don't think he'll be discovered?' asked Brian, rousing himself out of his brown study. "'Well, I don't go so far as that,' rejoined Calton, but he has certainly left no trace behind him, and even the red Indian, in whom instinct for

tracking is so highly developed, needs some sort of a trail to enable him to find out his enemies. "'Depend upon it,' went on Calton, warming to his subject. "'The man who murdered White is no ordinary criminal. The place he chose for the committal of the crime was such a safe one.' "'Do you think so?' said Ralliston. "'Why, I should think that a handsome cab in a public street would be very unsafe.' "'It is that fact which makes it safer,' replied Mr. Calton epigramatically.

"'You read into Quincy's account of the Marr murders in London, and you will see that the more public the place the less risk there is of detection. There was nothing about the gentleman in the light coat who murdered White to excite Royston's suspicions. He entered the cab with White, no noise or anything likely to attract attention was heard, and then he alighted. Naturally enough, Royston drove to St. Kilda, and never suspected White was dead till he looked inside and touched him. As to the man in the light coat, he doesn't live in Palet Street, no, nor in East Melbourne either. "'Why not?' asked Fredelby.

"'Because he wouldn't have been such a fool as to leave a trail to his own door. He did what the fox often does. He doubled. My opinion is that he either went right through East Melbourne to Fitzroy, or he walked back through the Fitzroy Gardens into town. There was no one about at that time of the morning, and he could return to his lodgings, hotel, or wherever he is staying, with impunity. Of course, this is a theory that may be wrong, but from what insight into human nature my profession has given me,

I think my idea is a correct one. All present agreed with Mr. Calton's idea, as it really did seem the most natural thing that would be done by a man desirous of escaping detection. Tell you what, said Felix to Brian, as they were on their way to the drawing-room. If the fellow that committed the crime is found out, by God, he ought to get Calton to defend him.

End of Chapter 7. Read by Sabella Denton. For more free audiobooks or to volunteer, please visit Librevox.org. Chapter 8 of Mystery of a Handsome Cab by Fergus Hume, read for Libravox.org into the public domain. Brian takes a walk and a drive. When the gentleman entered the drawing-room a young lady was engaged in playing one of those detestable pieces of the Morseau de Salon order, in which an offending air is taken, and variations embroidered on it, till it becomes a perfect agony to distinguish the tune,

amid the perpetual rattle of quavers and demi-samequavers. The melody in this case was over the garden wall, with variations by Signor Thumpanini, and the young lady who played it was a pupil of that celebrated Italian musician. When the male portion of the guest entered, the air was being played in the bass with a great deal of power, that is, the loud pedal was down, and with a perpetual rattle of treble notes, trying with all their shrill might to drown the tune. "'God, it's getting over the garden wall in a hailstorm,' said Felix, as he strolled over to the piano, for he saw that the musician was Dora Featherweight,

an heiress to whom he was then paying attention, in the hope that she might be induced to take the name of Ralliston. So, when the fair Dora had paralyzed her audience with one final bang and rattle, as if the gentleman going over the garden-wall had tumbled into the cucumber frame, Felix was loud in his expressions of delight. "'Such power, you know, Miss Featherweight,' he said, sinking into a chair, and mentally wondering if any of the piano strings had given way at that last crash, "'You put your heart into it, and all your muscle, too, by God,' he added mentally.

"'It's nothing but practice,' answered Miss Featherweight, with a modest blush. "'I am at the piano four hours every day.' "'Good heavens!' thought Felix. What a time the family must have of it!' But he kept this remark to himself, and screwing his eyeglass into his left organ of vision merely ejaculated, "'lucky piano!' Miss Featherweight, not being able to think of any answer to this, looked down and blushed, while the ingenious felix looked up and sighed madge and brian were in a corner of the room talking over white's death i never liked him she said but it is horrible to think of him dying like that i don't know answered brian gloomily from all i can hear dying by chloroform is a very easy death death can never be easy replied madge especially to a young man so full of health and spirits as mr white was

i believe you are sorry he is dead said brian jealously aren't you she asked in some supplies demortuous nilisibonum quoted fitzgerald but as i detested him when he is alive you can't expect me to regret his end madge did not answer him but looked quickly at his face and for the first time it struck her that he looked ill what is the matter with you dear she asked placing her hand on his arm you are not looking well nothing nothing he answered hurriedly i've been a little worried about business lately but come he said rising let us go outside for i see your father has got that girl with the steam whistle voice to sing the girl with the steam whistle voice was julia featherweight the sister of rawleston's in marata and the girl with the steam whistle voice was julia featherweight the sister of rawleston's in marata and that And Madge stifled a laugh as she went on to the veranda with Fitzgerald. "'What a shame of you,' she said, bursting into a laugh when they were safely outside. "'She's been taught by the best masters.' "'How I pity them!' retorted Brian grimly, as Julia wailed out, "'Meet me once again!' with an ear-piercing shrillness.

"'I'd much rather listen to our ancestral Banshee, and as to meeting her again one interview would be more than enough.' Madge did not answer, but leaning lightly over the high rail of the veranda, looked out into the beautiful moonlit night. There were a number of people passing along the esplanade, some of whom stopped and listened to Julia's shrill notes. One man in particular seemed to have a taste for music, for he persistently stared over the fence at the house. Brian and Madge talked of diverse subjects, but every time Madge looked up she saw the man watching the house. "'What does that man want, Brian?' she asked. "'What man?' asked Brian, starting.

"'Oh,' he went on, indifferently, as the watcher moved the watcher. away from the gate and crossed the road onto the footpath. He's taken up with the music, I suppose, that's all. Madge said nothing, but she could not help thinking there was more in it than the music. Presently Julia ceased, and she proposed to go in. Why? asked Brian, who was lying back in a comfortable seat, smoking a cigarette. It's nice enough here. I must attend to my guests, she answered, rising.

You stop here and finish your cigarette. And with a gay laugh she flitted into the house. Brian sat and smoked, staring out into the moonlight the while. Yes, the man was certainly watching the house, for he sat on one of the seats, and kept his eyes fixedly on the brilliantly lighted windows. Brian threw away his cigarette and shivered slightly. "'Could anyone have seen me?' he muttered, rising uneasily. "'Shah! Of course not! And the cabman would never recognize me again! Curse, White! I wish I'd never set eyes upon him!' He gave one glance at the dark figure on the seat.

and then, with a shiver, passed into the warm, well-lighted room. He did not feel easy in his mind, and he would have felt still less so had he known that the man on the seat was one of the cleverest of the Melbourne detectives. Mr. Gorby had been watching the Fredelby Mansion the whole evening, and was getting rather annoyed. Morland did not know where Fitzgerald lived, and as that was one of the primary facts the detective wished to ascertain, he determined to watch Brian's movements and to trace him home. If he is the lover of that pretty girl, I'll wait till he leaves the house, argued Mr. Gorby to himself, as he took his seat on the esplanade. He won't long remain away from her, and once he leaves the house it will be no difficult

matter to find out where he lives. When Brian made his appearance early in the evening, on his way to Mark Fredelby's mansion, he wore evening dress, a light overcoat, and a soft hat. "'Well, I'm dashed,' ejaculated Mr. Gorby, when he saw Fitzgerald disappear. "'If he isn't a fool, I don't know who is, to go about in the very clothes he wore when he polished white off and think he won't be recognized. Melbourne ain't Paris or London that he can afford to be so careless, and when I put the derbies on him he will be astonished. Ah, well, he went on, lighting his pipe and taking a seat on the esplanade. I suppose I'll have to wait here till he comes out. Mr. Gorby's patience was pretty severely tried, for hour after hour passed and no one appeared.

He smoked several pipes and watched the people strolling along in the soft silver moonlight. A bevy of girls passed by with their arms round one another's waists. Then a young man and woman, evidently lovers, came walking along. They sat down by Mr. Gorby and looked hard at him, to hint that he need not stay. But the detective took no heat of them, and kept his eyes steadily upon the great house opposite. Finally, the lovers took themselves off with very bad grace. Then Mr. Gorby saw Madge and Brian come out onto the veranda, and he heard in the stillness of the night a sound weird and unearthly. It was Miss Featherweight singing. He saw Madge go in, shortly followed by Brian.

The latter turned and stared at him for a moment. Ah, said Gorby to himself as he re-lit his pipe. Your conscience is as smiting you, is it? Wait a bit, my boy, till I have you in jail. Then the guests came out of the house, and their black figures disappeared one by one from the moonlight as they shook hands and said good-night. Shortly after Brian came down the path with Fredelby at his gate,

and Madge hanging on her father's arm. Fredelby opened the gate and held out his hand. "'Good-night, Fitzgerald,' he said in a hearty voice. "'Come soon again.' "'Good-night, Brian, dearest,' said Madge, kissing him, and don't forget to-morrow. Then father and daughter closed the gate, leaving Brian outside and walked back to the house. "'Ah,' said Mr. Gorby to himself, "'if you only knew what I know you wouldn't be so precious kind to him.'

Brian strolled along the Esplanade, and crossing over, passed by Gorby, and walked on till he was opposite the Esplanade Hotel. then he leaned his arms on the fence and taking off his hat enjoyed the calm beauty of the hour what a good-looking fellow murmured mr gorby in a regretful tone i can hardly believe it of him but the proofs are too clear the night was perfectly still not a breath of wind stirred for what breeze there had been had long since died away but brian could see the white wavelets breaking lightly on the sands the long narrow pier ran out like a bleak thread into the sheet of gleaming silver and away in the distance the line of the williamston lights sparkled like some fairy illumination over all this placid scene of land and water was a sky such as door loved a great heavy mass of rain-clouds heaped one on top of the other as the rocks the titans piled to reach olympus Then a break in the roof, and a bit of dark blue sky could be seen glittering with stars, in the midst of which sailed the serene moon, shedding down her light on the cloudland beneath, giving to it all one silver lining. Somewhat to the annoyance of Mr. Gorby, who had no eye for the picturesque,

Brian gazed at the sky for several minutes, admiring the wonderful beauty of its broken masses of light and shade. At length he lit a cigarette and walked down the steps on to the pier. Oh, suicide is it? "'Muttered Mr. Gorby, not if I can help it.' And he lit his pipe and followed him. He found Brian leaning over the parapet at the end of the pier, looking at the glittering waves beneath, which kept rising and falling in a dreaming rhythm that soothed and charmed the ear.

"'Poor girl! Poor girl!' The detective heard him mutter as he came up. "'If she only knew all! If she—' At this moment he heard the approaching step, and turned round sharply. The detective saw that his face was ghastly pale in the moonlight, and his brows wrinkled in anger. "'What the devil do you want?' he burst out, as Gourby paused. "'What do you mean by following me all over the place?'

"'Saw me watching the house,' said Gourby to himself. "'I'm not following you, sir,' he said aloud. "'I suppose the pier ain't private property. I only came down here for a breath of fresh air.' Fitzgerald did not answer, but turned sharply on his heel, and walked quickly up the pier, leaving Gourby staring after him. "'He's getting frightened,' soliloquized the detective to himself, as he strolled easily along, keeping the black figure in front well in view.

I'll have to keep a sharp eye on him, or he'll be clearing out of Victoria. Brian walked rapidly up to the St. Kilda Station, for on looking at his watch, he found that he would just have time to catch the last train. He arrived a few minutes before it started, so, getting into the smoking-carriage at the near end of the platform, he lit a cigarette, and leaning back in his seat, watched the late-comers hurrying into the station. Just as the last bell rang he saw a man rush along to catch the train. It was the same man who had been watching him the whole evening, and Brian felt confident that he was being followed.

He comforted himself, however, with the thought that this pertinacious follower might lose the train, and being in the last carriage himself, he kept a lookout along the platform, expecting to see his friend of the esplanade standing disappointed on it. There was no appearance of him, so Brian, sinking back into his seat, lamented his ill luck and not shaking off this man who kept him under such strict surveillance. "'Confound him,' he muttered softly. "'I expect he will follow me to East Melbourne and find out where I live, but he shan't if I can help it.

There was no one but himself in the carriage, and he felt relieved at this because he was in no humor to hear chatter. "'Murtered in a cab,' he said, lighting a fresh cigarette, and blowing a cloud of smoke, a romance in real life which beats Miss Braddon Hollow. "'There is one thing certain. He won't come between Madge and me again. "'Poor Madge!' with an impatient sigh. "'If she only knew all, there would not be much chance of our marriage, but she can never find out, and I don't suppose anyone else will.'

Here a thought suddenly struck him, and, rising out of his seat, he walked to the other end of the carriage, and threw himself on the cushions, as if desirous to escape from himself. "'What grounds can that man have for suspecting me?' he said aloud. "'No one knows I was with White on that night, and the police can't possibly bring forward any evidence to show that I was.' "'Pshah!' he went on, impatiently buttoning up his coat. "'I am like a child, afraid of my own shadow.

The fellow on the pier is only someone out for a breath of fresh air, as he said himself. I am quite safe. At the same time he felt by no means easy in his mind, and as he stepped out on the platform in the Melbourne station, he looked round apprehensively, as if he half expected to feel the detective's hand upon his shoulder. But he saw no one at all like the man he had met on the sink-killed-peer, and with a sigh of relief he left the station. Mr. Gorby, however, was not far away. He was following at a safe distance. Brian walked slowly

along Flinders Street, apparently deep in thought. He turned up Russell Street and did not stop until he found himself close to the Burke and Will's monument, the exact spot where the cab had stopped on the night of White's murder. Ah, said the detective to himself, as he stood in the shadow on the opposite side of the street, you're going to have a look at it, are you? I wouldn't, if I were you, it's dangerous. Fitzgerald stood for a few minutes at the court, and corner, and then he walked up Collins Street. When he got to the cab-stand, opposite the Melbourne Club, still suspecting he was followed, he hailed a handsome, and drove away in the direction of Spring Street. Gorby was rather perplexed at this sudden move, but without delay he hailed another cab,

and told the driver to follow the first till it stopped. Two can play at that game, he said, settling himself back in the cab, and I'll get the better of you, clever as you are, and you are clever, he went on in a tone of admiration, as he looked round the luxurious handsome, to choose such a convenient place for a murder, no disturbance and plenty of time for escape after you had finished. It's a pleasure going after a chap like you, instead of after men who tumble down like ripe fruit and ain't got any brains to keep their crime quiet. While the detective thus soliloquized, his cab, following on the trail of the other, had turned down Spring Street, and was being driven rapidly along the Wellington Parade,

in the direction of East Melbourne. It then turned up Powlett Street, at which Mr. "'Gorby was glad. "'Ain't so clever as I thought,' he said to himself. "'Showes his nest right off, without any attempt to hide it. "'The detective, however, had reckoned without his host, "'for the cabin front kept driving on, "'through an interminable maze of streets, "'until it seemed as though Brian were determined to drive the whole night.

"'Look here, sir!' cried Gorby's cabin, "'looking through his trap-door on the roof of the handsome, "'how long's this ear game are going to lost? "'My horse is knocked up, he is, and his blessed old legs is a given way under him. Go on, go on, answered the detective impatiently. I'll pay you well. The cabman's spirits were raised by this,

and by dint of coaxing in a liberal use of the whip, he managed to get his jaded horse up to a pretty good pace. They were in Fitzroy by this time, and both cabs turned out of Gertrude Street into Nicholson Street, thence passed to Evelyn Street and along Spring Street, until Brian's cab stopped at the corner of Collins Street, and Gorby saw him alight and dismiss his cabman. He then walked down the street and disappeared into the Treasury Gardens.

"'Confound it,' said the detective, as he got out and paid his fare, which was by no means a light one, but over which he had no time to argue, "'We've come in a circle, and I do believe he lives in Powlett Street after all.' He went into the gardens and saw Brian some distance ahead of him, walking rapidly. It was bright moonlight, and he could easily distinguish Fitzgerald by his light coat. As he went along that noble avenue with its elms in their winter dress, the moon shining through their branches wrought a fantastic tracery on the smooth asphalt. And on either side, Gorby could see the dim white forms of the old Greek gods and goddesses, Venus Victrix, with the apple in her hand, which Mr. Gorby, in his happy ignorance of heathen mythology, took for Eve offering Adam the forbidden fruit.

Diana, with the hound at her feet, and Bacca and Ariadne, which the detective imagined were the babes in the wood. He knew that each of the statues had queer names, but thought they were merely allegorical. Passing over the bridge, with the water rippling quietly underneath, Brian went up the smooth yellow path to where the statue of Hebe, holding the cup, seems instinct with life, and turning down the path to the right, he left the gardens by the end gate, near which stands the statue of the dancing fawn, with the great bush of scarlet geranium burning like an altar before it. Then he went along the Wellington Parade, and turned up Powlett Street, where he stopped at a house near Carnes Memorial Church, much to Mr. Gorby's relief, who, being like Hamlet,

fat and scant of breath, found himself rather exhausted. He kept well in the shadow, however, and saw Fitzgerald give one final look round before he disappeared into the house. Then Mr. Gorby, like the robber captain in Alibaba, took careful stock of the house, and fixed its locality and appearance well in his mind, as he intended to call at it on the morrow. What I'm going to do, he said as he walked slowly back to Melbourne, is to see his landlady when he's out, and find out what time he came in on the night of the murder. If it fits into the time he got out of Rankin's cab, I'll get a warrant and arrest him straight off. End of Chapter 8, read by Sabella Denton. For more free audio-books, volunteer, please visit Libravox.org.

Chapter 9 of Mystery of a Handsome Cab by Fergus Hume. Read for Libravox.org into the public domain. Mr. Gorby is satisfied at last. In spite of his long walk and still longer drive, Brian did not sleep well that night. He kept tossing and turning, or lying on his back wide awake, looking into the darkness and thinking of white. Towards dawn, when the first faint glimmer of morning came through the Venetian blinds, he fell into a sort of uneasy doze haunted by horrible dreams he thought he was driving in a handsome when suddenly he found white by his side clad in white serraments grinning and gibbering at him with ghastly merriment

then the cab went over a precipice and he fell from a great height down down with a mocking laughter still sounding in his ears until he woke with a loud cry and found it was broad daylight and that drops of perspiration were standing on his brow it was no use trying to sleep any longer so with a weary sigh he arose and went to his tub feeling jaded and worn out by worry and want of sleep his bath did him some good the cold water brightened him up and pulled him together still he could not help giving a start of surprise when he saw his face reflected in the mirror old and haggard-looking with dark circles round the eyes he dressed himself carefully he was not a man to neglect his toilette however worried and out of sorts he might feel yet notwithstanding all his efforts the change in his appearance did not escape the eye of his landlady she was a small dried-up little woman with a wrinkled yellowish face she seemed parched and brittle whenever she moved she crackled and one went in constant dread of seeing a wizened-looking limb break off short like a branch of some dead tree when she spoke it was in a voice hard and shrill not unlike the chirp of a cricket when as was frequently the case she clothed her attenuated form in faded brown silk gown her resemblance to that lively insect was remarkable and as on this morning she crackled into brian's sitting-room with the argus and his coffee a look of dismay at his altered appearance came over her stony little countenance dear me sir she chirped out in her shrill voice as she placed her burden on the table are you took bad brian shook his head want of sleep that's all mrs sampson he answered unfolding the argus ah that's because you ain't got enough blood in your head said mrs sampson wisely for she had her own ideas on the subject of health

if you ain't got blood you ain't got sleep brian looked at her as she said this for there seemed such an obvious want of blood in her veins that he wondered if she had ever slept in all her life there was my father's brother which of course mixin my uncle went on the landlady pouring out a cup of coffee for brian and the bloody ad was something astounding which it made him sleep that as long as they had to draw pints from him before he'd awake in the morning brian had the argus before his face and under its friendly cover he laughed quietly to his self his blood poured out like a river went on the landlady still drawing from the rich stores of her imagination and the doctor was struck dumb with astonishment at seeing the niagara which bursts from him but i'm not so full-blooded myself fitzgerald again stifled a laugh and wondered that mrs sampson was not afraid of being treated as were ananeas and sapphira however he said nothing but merely intimated that if she would leave the room he would take us breakfast and if you wants anything else mr fitzgerald she said going to the door you knows your way to the bell as easy as i do to the kitchen and with a final turrup she crackled out of the room as soon as the door was closed brian put down his paper and roared in spite of his worries he had that extraordinary vivacious irish temperament which enables a man to put all trouble behind his back and thoroughly enjoy the present his landlady with her arabian nightlike romances was a source of great amusement to him and he felt considerably cheered by the odd turn her humour had taken this morning after a time however his laughter ceased and his troubles came crowding on him again he drank his coffee but pushed away the food which was before him and looked through the argus for the latest report about the murder case what he read made his cheek turn a shade paler than before he could feel his heart thumping wildly

they've found a clue have they he muttered rising and pacing restlessly up and down i wonder what it can be i threw that man off the scent last night but if he suspects me there will be no difficulty in his finding out where i live bah what nonsense i am talking i am the victim of my own morbid imagination there is nothing to connect me with the crime so i need not be afraid of my shadow i've a good mind to leave town for a time but if i am suspected that would excite suspicion oh man "'Dadge, darling!' he cried passionately. "'If you only knew what I suffer, I know that you would pity me, but you must never know the truth. Never, never!' And sinking into a chair by the window, he covered his face with his hands. After remaining in this position for some minutes,

occupied with his own gloomy thoughts, he arose and rang the bell. A faint crackle in the distance announced that Mrs. Sampson had heard it, and she soon came into the room, looking more like a cricket than ever. Brian had gone into his bedroom and called out to her. her from there. "'I'm going down to St. Kilda,' Mrs. Sampson,' she said, and probably I shall not be back all day. "'Which I hopes it'll do you good,' she answered, "'for you've eaten nothing, and the sea- breezes is miraculous for making you take to

your victuals. My mother's brother, being a sailor and wonderful for his stomach, which, when he had done a meal, the table looked as if a locust had gone over it.' "'Of what?' asked Fitzgerald, buttoning his gloves. "'A locust!' replied the landlady, in surprise at his ignorance, as I've read in Oly writ as how John the Baptist was partial to him. Not that I think they'd be very fill in, though, to be sure. He had a sweet tooth and ate honey with him. Oh, you mean locusts, said Brian, now enlightened.

And what else? asked Mrs. Sampson indignantly. Which, though not being a scholar, I speak English, I hopes, my mother's second cousin having had a prize at his spelling bee, though he died early through brain fever, having crowded his health, over much with the dictionary. "'Dear me,' answered Brian mechanically, "'how unfortunate!' He was not listening to Mrs. Sampson's remarks.

He suddenly remembered an arrangement which Madge had made and which up till now had slipped his memory. "'Mrs. Sampson,' he said, turning round at the door, "'I am going to bring Mr. Fredelby and his daughter to have a cup of tea here, so you might have some ready.' "'You have only to ask and to have,' answered Mrs. Sampson, hospitably, with a gratified crackle of all her joints. I'll make the tea, sir, and also some of my own particular cakes, being a special kind I have,

which my mother showed me, ow, to make, having been taught by a lady as she nursed through the scarlet fever, though being of a weak constitution she died soon after, being in the abate of contracting any disease she might chance on." Brian hurried off, lest in her po-like appreciation of them, Mrs. Sampson should give vent to more charnel-house horrors. At one point of her life the little woman had been a nurse, and it was told of her that she had frightened one of her patients into convulsions during the night by narrating to her the history of all the corpses she had laid out. This ghoul-like tendency in the end proved fatal to her professional advancement. As soon as Fitzgerald had gone, she went over to the window and watched him as he walked slowly down the street, a tall, handsome man, of whom any woman would be proud.

"'What an awful thing it are to think you'll be a corpse some day,' she chirped cheerily to herself, though, of course, being a great swell in his own place, you'll have a nice, airy vault, which would be far more comfortable than a closed stuffy grave, even though it has a tombstone and violets over it. "'Ah, now, who are you, impertinence?' she broke off, as a stout man in a light suit of clothes crossed the road and rang the bell. A pulling at the bell as if it were a pump handle. as the gentleman at the door who was none other than mr gorby did not hear her he of course did not reply so she hurried down the stairs crackling with anger at the rough usage her bell had received mr gorby had seen bryan go out and deeming it a good opportunity for inquiry had lost no time in making a start you nearly tore the bell down said mrs sampson as she presented her thin body and wrinkled face to the view of the detective i'm very sorry answered gorby minkly i'll knock next time oh no you won't said the landlady tossing her head me not havin a knocker and you and your scratchin the paint off the door which it ain't been done over six months by my sister-in-law's cousin which he is a painter with a shop in fitzroy and a wonderful hide of colour

does mr fitzgerald live here asked mr gorby quietly he do replied mrs sampson but he's gone out and won't be back till the afternoon which any message will be delivered to him punctual on his arrival i'm glad he's not in said mr gorby would you allow me to have a few moments conversation what is it asked the landlady her curiosity being roused i'll tell you when we get inside answered mr gorby she looked at him with her sharp little eyes and seeing nothing disreputable about him led the way upstairs crackling loudly the whole time this so astonished mr gorby that he cast about in his own mind for an explanation of the phenomenon wansoiling about the joints was his conclusion but i never heard anything like it and she looks as if she'd snap in to she's that brittle mrs sampson took gorby into brian's sitting-room and having closed the door sat down and prepared to hear what he had to say for himself i hope it ain't bills she said mr fitzgerald having money in the bank and everything respectable like a gentleman he is though to be sure your bill might come down on him unbeknown ye not havin kept it in mind which it ain't mean everybody as it had such a good memory as my aunt on my mother's side. She haven't been famous for her dates like a history, not to speak of her multiplication tables, in the numbers of people's ouses. "'It's not bills,' answered Mr. Gorby, who, having vainly attempted to stem

the shrill torrent of words, had given in, and waited mildly until she had finished. I only want to know a few things about Mr. Fitzgerald's habits. "'And what for?' asked Mrs. Sampson indignantly. Are you a newspaper of putting in articles about people who don't want to see themselves in print? Which I know's your abbots, my late husband having been a printer and a paper which bust up, not having the money to pay wages, through which there was a due to him the sum of one pound, seven, and sixpence halfpenny, which I being his widder ought to have, not that I expects to see it on this side of the grave. Oh, dear, no, and she gave a shrill, elfish laugh.

mr gorby seeing that unless he took the bull by the horns he would never be able to get what he wanted grew desperate and plunged in medeus race i am an insurance agent he said rapidly so as to prevent any interruption and mr fitzgerald desires to insure his life in our company i therefore want to find out if he is a good life to insure does he live temperately keep early hours and in fact all about him i shall be happy to answer any inquiries which may be of use to you sir replied mrs sampson noin as i do how good an insurance is to all family should the ed of it being taken off unexpected leaving a widder which as i know mr fitzgerald is a going to be married soon and i hopes he'll be happy though through it i lose as a lodgerald's a lodgerald's a lodgerald's a lodgerald's a lodgerald's a loggerald's a loggerald's a loggerald's a loggerald's a loggerald's a loggerald's a loggerald's a loggerald and i o'n i lose as a loggerald as he always paid regular and behaved like a gentleman. So he is a temperate man, said Mr. Gorby, feeling his way cautiously. "'Not being a blue ribbing all the same,' answered Mrs. Sampson, and I never saw him the worst for drink, he being always able to use his latch-key and take his boots off before going to bed,

which is no more than a woman not to expect from a lodger, she having to do her own washing. And he keeps good hours. "'Ally's in before the clock strikes twelve,' answered. the landlady, though to be sure I uses it as a figure of speech. None of the clocks in the house strike him but one, which is being mended, having broke through over winding. Is he always in before twelve? asked Mr. Gorby, keenly disappointed at this answer.

Mrs. Sampson eyed him waggishly, and a smile crept over her wrinkled little face. Young men, not being old men, she replied cautiously, and sinners not being saints, it's not natural as latch-keys should be made for ornament instead of use. and mr fitzgerald being one of the handsomest men in melbourne it ain't to be expected as he should let his latch-key get rusty though a good moral character he uses it with moderation but i suppose you are seldom awake when he comes in really late said the detective not as a rule assented mrs sampson bein a heavy sleeper and much disposed for bed but i have heard him come in out of twelve the last time bein thursday week ah mr gorby drew a long breath for thursday week was the night upon which the murder was committed being troubled with my ed said mrs sampson through having been out in the sun all day awashin i did not feel so partial to my bed that night as in general so i went down to the kitchen with the intent of getting a linseed poultice to put at the back of my ed it being calculated to remove pain as was told to me when a nurse by a doctor in the hospital e being now in business for his seabye being now in business for his side at gie long with a large family having married early just as i was leaving the kitchen i heard mr fitzgerald a coming in and turning round looked at the clock that having been my custom when my late husband came in the early morning i bein up preparing his meal

and the time was asked mr gorby breathlessly five minutes to two o'clock replied mrs sampson mr gorby thought for a moment cab was hailed at one o'clock started for st kilda about ten minutes past, reached a grammar school at, say, 25 minutes past. Fitzgerald walks five minutes to cabmen, making it half-past. Say, he waited ten minutes for the other cab to turn up, makes it twenty minutes to two. It would take another twenty minutes to get to East Melbourne, and five minutes to walk up here. That makes it five minutes past two instead of before. Confound it! Was your clock in the kitchen right? he asked aloud. "'Well, I think so,' answered Mrs. Samson. "'It does get a little slow sometimes, not having been cleaned for some time,

which my nevy being a watchmaker I always sends it over to him.' "'Of course it was slow on that night,' said Gourby triumphantly. "'He must have come in at five minutes past two, which makes it all right.' "'Makes what all right?' asked the landlady sharply. "'An out of you know my clock was ten minutes wrong.' "'Oh, it was, was it?' asked Gorby eagerly. "'I'm not denying of it,' replied Mrs. Sampson. "'Clock's ain't always to be relied on more than men and women.

"'But it won't be anything again as insurance, will it, as in general he's in before twelve?' "'Oh, all that will be quite safe,' answered the detective, delighted with the information he had obtained. "'Is this Mr. Fitzgerald's room?' "'Yes, it is,' replied the landlady, "'but he furnished it himself, being of a luxurious turn of mine. Not but what his taste is good, though far be it for me to deny I helped him to select. But having another room of the same to let, any friends as you might have in search of my own, and be well looked after, my reference as being very I in my cooking tasty, and if—' Here a ring at the front door called Mrs. Sampson away, so with a hurried word to Gorby she crackled

downstairs. Left to himself, Mr. Gorby arose and looked round the room. It was excellently furnished, and the pictures were good. At one end of the room, by the window, there was a writing-table covered with papers. It's no good looking for the papers he took out of White's pocket, I suppose, said the detective to himself, as he turned over some letters, as I don't know what they are, and I couldn't tell them if I saw them. But I'd like to find that missing glove in the bottle that held the chloroform, unless he's done away with them. There doesn't seem any sign of them here, so I'll have a look in his bedroom. There was no time to lose, as Mrs. Sampson might return at any moment, so Mr. Gorby walked quickly into the bedroom, which opened off the sitting-room.

The first thing that caught the detective's eye was a large photograph in a plush frame, of Madge Fredelby. It stood on the dressing-table and was similar to the one which he had already seen in White's album. He took it up with a laugh. You're a pretty girl, he said, of prostarizing the picture, but you give your photograph to two young men, both in love with you, and both hot-tempered. The result is that one is dead, and the other won't survive him long. That's what you've done. He put it down again, and looking round the room, caught sight of a light-covered coat hanging behind the door, and also a soft hat. "'Ah,' said the detective, going up to the door,

"'here is the very coat you wore when you killed that poor fellow. Wonder what you have in the pockets.' He plunged his hand into them in turn. There were an old theatre programme and a pair of brown gloves and one, but in the second pocket Mr. Gorby made a discovery, none other than that of the missing glove. There it was, a soiled white glove for the right hand, with black bands down the back,

and the detective smiled in a gratified manner as he put it carefully in his pocket. it. My morning has not been wasted, he said to himself, I found out that he came in at a time which corresponds to all his movements after one o'clock on Thursday night, and this is the missing glove which clearly belonged to white. If I could only get hold of the chloroform bottle, I'd be satisfied. But the chloroform bottle was not to be found, though he searched most carefully for it. At last, hearing Mrs. Sampson coming upstairs again, he gave up the search and came back to the sitting-room. Through it away, I suspect. he said as he sat down in his old place but it doesn't matter i think i can form a chain of evidence from what i have discovered which will be sufficient to convict him besides i expect when he is arrested he will confess everything he seems to feel remorse for what he is done

the door opened and mrs sampson entered the room in a state of indignation one of them chinese aukers she explained he's been a trying to get the better of me over carrots as if i didn't know what carrots was and emma talking about a shilling in his gibbon as if he hadn't been brought up in a place where they don't know what a shillin is but i never could abide foreigners ever since a frenchman as taught me his language made off with my mother's silver teapot unbeknown to er it being set out on the sideboard for company mr gorby interrupted these domestic reminiscences of mrs sampson's by stating that now she had given him all necessary information he would take his departure an eye-oops said mrs sampson as she opened the door for him as i'll have the pleasure of seeing you again should any business on behalf of mr fitzgerald require it oh i'll see you again said mr gorby with heavy jocularity and in a way you won't like as you'll be called as a witness he added mentally did i understand you to say mrs sampson he went on that mr Mr. Fitzgerald will be at home this afternoon. "'Oh, yes, sir, he will,' answered Mrs. Sampson, a drinking tea with his young lady, who is Miss Frettleby, and has got no end of money, not but what I mightn't have had the same, and I've been born in a Geiger-spear.

"'You need not tell Mr. Fitzgerald I've been here,' said Gourby, closing the gate. I'll probably call and see him myself this afternoon. "'What a stout person he are,' said Mrs. Sampson to herself, as the detective walked away, just like my late father, who is always fleshy, being a great eater and fond of his class, but I took after my mother's family, they being thin-like and proud of keeping himself so, as the vinegar they drank could testify, not that I indulge in it myself. She shut the door and went upstairs to take away the breakfast things, while Gorby was being driven along at a good pace to the police office,

to obtain a warrant for Brian's arrest on a charge of willful murder. End of Chapter 9, read by Sabella Denton. For more free audiobooks or to volunteer, please visit Libravox.org. Chapter 10 of Mystery of a Handsome Cab by Fergus Hume, read for Libravox.org into the public domain. In the Queen's name. It was a broiling hot day, one of those cloudless days, with the blazing sun beating down on the arid streets, and casting deep black shadows. A real Australian December day dropped by mistake of the clerk of the weather, into the middle of August. The previous week, having been really chilly, it was all the more welcome.

It was Saturday morning, and fashionable Melbourne was doing the block. Collin Street is to the southern city what Bond Street and the row are to London, and the boulevards to Paris. It is on the block that people show off their new dresses, bow to their friends, cut their enemies, and chatter small talk. The same thing no doubt occurred in the Appian way, the fashionable street of Imperial Rome, when Catalysts talked gay nonsense to lesbia, and Horace received the congratulations of his friends over his new volume of society verses. History repeats itself, and every city is bound by all the laws of civilization to have one special street, wherein the votaries of fashion can congregate.

Collins Street is not, of course, such a grand thoroughfare as those above mentioned, but the people who stroll up and down the broad pavement are quite as charmingly dressed, and as pleasant as any of the peripatetics of those famous cities. As the sun brings out bright flowers, so the seductive influence of the hot weather had brought out all the ladies in gay dresses of innumerable colors, which made the long street look like a restless rainbow. Carriages were bowling smoothly along,

their occupants smiling and bowing as they recognized their friends on the sidewalk. Lawyers, their legal quibbles finished for the week, were strolling leisurely with their black bags in their hands, portly merchants forgetting flinders lane in the incoming ships walked beside their pretty daughters and the representatives of swelldom were stalking along in their customary apparel of curly brimmed hats high collars and immaculate suits altogether it was a pleasant and animated scene which would have delighted the heart of any one who was not dyspeptic or in love dyspeptic people and lovers disappointed ones of course being wont to survey the world in a cynical vein madge fredelby was engaged in that occupation so dear to every female heart shopping she was in mowbray rowan and hicks turning over ribbons and laces while the faithful brian waited for her outside and amused himself by looking at the human stream which flowed along the pavement he disliked shopping quite as much as the majority of his sex and though as a lover he felt a certain amount of self-abiniation to be coming into him it was difficult to drive away the thoughts of his pleasant club where he could be reading and smoking with perchance something cooling in a glass beside him however after she had purchased a dozen or more articles she did not want madge remembered that brian was waiting for her and hurried to the door i haven't been many minutes have i dear she said touching him lightly on the arm

oh dear no answered brian looking at his watch only thirty a mere nothing considering a new dress was being discussed i thought i had been longer said madge her brow clearing but still i am sure you feel a martyr not at all replied fitzgerald handing her into the carriage i enjoyed myself very much nonsense she laughed opening her sunshade while brian took his seat beside her that's one of those social stories which every one considers themselves bound to tell from a sense of duty i'm afraid i did keep you waiting though after all she went on with a true feminine idea as to the flight of time i was only a few minutes and the rest said brian quizzically looking at her pretty face so charmingly flushed under her great white hat madge disdained to notice his interruption james she cried the first she cried the little face so charmingly flushed under her great white hat madge disdained to notice his interruption james she cried to the coachman drive to the melbourne club papa will be there you know she said to brian and we'll take him off to have tea with us but it's only one o'clock said brian as the town hall clock came in sight mrs sampson won't be ready oh anything will do replied madge a cup of tea and some thin bread and butter isn't hard to prepare i don't feel like lunch and papa eat so little in the middle of the day and you eat a great deal at all times finished brian with a laugh madge went on chattering in her usual lively manner and brian listened to her with delight her pleasant talk drove away the evil spirit which had been with him for the last three weeks suddenly madge made an observation as they were passing the burke and will's monument which startled him isn't that the place where mr white got into the cab she asked looking at the corner near the scotch church where a vagrant of musical tendencies was playing just before the battle mother on a battered old concertina so the papers say answered brian listlessly without turning his head i wonder who the gentleman in the light coat could have been said madge as she settled herself again no one seems to know he replied evasively ah but they have a clue she said do you know brian she went on that he was dressed just like you in a light overcoat and soft hat

how remarkable said fitzgerald speaking in a slightly sarcastic tone and as calmly as he was able he was dressed in the same manner as nine out of every ten young fellows in melbourne madge looked at him in surprise at the tone in which he spoke so different from his usual nonchalant way of speaking she was about to answer when the carriage stopped at the door of the melbourne club brian anxious to escape any more remarks about the murder sprang quickly out and ran up the steps into the building he found mr fredelby smoking complacently, and reading the A.G.E. As Fitzgerald entered, he looked up, and putting down the paper held out his hand, which the other took. "'Ah, Fitzgerald,' he said, "'have you left the attractions of Collins Street for the still greater ones of Clubland?' "'Not I,' answered Brian. "'I've come to carry you off to afternoon tea with Madge and myself.' "'I don't mind,' answered Mr. Fredelby rising, "'but isn't afternoon tea at half-past one, rather an anomaly?'

"'What's in a name?' said Fitzgerald, absently. as they left the room. What have you been doing all morning? I've been in here for the last half-hour reading, answered the other carelessly. Woolmarket, I suppose. No, the handsome cab-murder. Oh, damn that thing, said Brian hastily. Then seeing his companion looking at him in surprise, he apologized. But indeed, he went on, I'm nearly worried to death by people asking about White, is if I knew all about him, whereas I know nothing. Just as well you don't, answered Mr. Fredelby, as they descended the steps together. He was not, a very desirable companion. It was on the tip of Brian's tongue to say, and yet you wanted him

to marry your daughter, but he wisely refrained, and they reached the carriage in silence. "'Now, then, Papa,' said Madge, when they were all settled in the carriage, and it was rolling along smoothly in the direction of East Melbourne. What have you been doing?' "'Enjoying myself,' answered her father, until you and Brian came, and dragged me out into this blazing sunshine. "'Well, Brian has been so good of late,' said Match, that I had to reward him, so I knew that nothing would please him better than to play host. Certainly, said Brian, rousing himself out of a fit of abstraction, especially when one has such charming visitors.

Madge laughed at this and made a little grimace. If your tea is only equal to your compliments, she said lightly, I'm sure Papa will forgive us for dragging him away from his club. Papa will forgive anything, murmured Mr. Fredelby, tilting his hat over his eyes, so long as he gets somewhere out of the sun. I can't say I care about playing the part, of shadrack, Meshack, and a Bednego in the fiery furnace of a Melbourne hot day. "'There now, Papa is quite a host in himself,' said Madge, mischievously, as the carriage

drew up at Mrs. Sampson's door. "'No, you're wrong,' said Brian, as he alighted and helped her out. "'I am the host in myself this time.' "'If there is one thing I hate above another,' observed Miss Fredelby, calmly, "'it's a pun, and especially a bad one.' Mrs. Sampson was very much astonished by the early arrival of her lodger's guests, and did not hesitate to express her astonishment. "'Being taken by surprise,' she said with an apologetic cackle,

"'it ain't to be supposed as miracles can be performed with regard to cooking. "'The fire having gone out, and not being kept alight on account of the eat of the day, "'which was that odd as never was, though to be sure, being a child in the early days, "'I remember it were that odd as my sister's aunt was in the abbot of roasting our joints in the sun.' after telling this last romance and leaving her visitors in doubt as to whether the joints referred to belong to an animal or to her sister's aunt or to herself mrs sampson crackled away downstairs to get things ready what a curious thing that landlady of yours is brian said madge from the depths of a huge arm-chair i believe she's a grasshopper from fitzroy gardens oh no she's a woman said mr fredelby cynically you can tell that by the length of her tongue a popular era papa retorted Madge sharply, I know plenty of men who talk far more than any woman. "'I hope I'll never meet them, then,' said Mr. Fredelby,

"'for if I did I should be inclined to agree with De Quincey on murder as a fine art.' Brian winced at this, and looked apprehensively at Madge, and saw with relief that she was not paying attention to her father, but was listening intently. "'There she is,' as a faint rustle at the door announced the arrival of Mrs. Sampson and the tea-tray. "'I wonder, Brian, you don't think the house is on fire, with that queer noise always going on. She wants oil. Yes, St. Jacob's oil, laughed Brian, as Mrs. Sampson entered, and placed her burden on the table.

"'Not having any cake,' said that lady, through not being forewarned as to the time of arrival, though it's not often I'm taken by surprise, except as to a headache, which of course is accidental to every person. I ain't got nothing but bread and butter, the baker and grocer, both being all that could be desired, except in the way of worrying for their money. which they thinks as how i keeps the bank in the ouse like a ladding's cave as i've heard em tell in the arabian nights me having gained it as a prize for english in my early girlhood being then considered a scholar and industrious mrs sampson's shrill apologies for the absence of cake having been received she hopped out of the room and madge made the tea the service was a quaint chinese one which brian had picked up in his wanderings he used it only on special occasions as he watched madge he could not help thinking how pretty she looked with her hands moving deftly among the cups and saucers so bizarre-looking with their sprawling dragons of yellow and green he half smiled to himself as he thought if they knew all i wonder if they would sit with me so unconcernedly mr fredelby too as he looked at his daughter thought of his dead wife and sighed well said madge as she handed them their tea and helped herself to some thin bread and butter you two gentlemen are delightful company papa is sighing like three furnace and brian is staring at me with his eyes like blue china saucers

you ought both to be turned forth to funerals like melancholy why like melancholy queried brian lazily i'm afraid mr fitzgerald said the young lady with a smile in her pretty black eyes that you are not a student of a midsummer night's dream. "'Very likely not,' answered Brian. "'Midsummer out here is so hot that no one gets any sleep, and consequently no dreams. Depend upon it. If the four lovers whom Puck treated so badly had lived in Australia, they wouldn't have been able to sleep for the mosquitoes.' "'What nonsense you two young people do talk?' said Mr. Fredelby,

with an amused smile as he stirred his tea. "'Dulce is despaire and loco,' observed Brian gravely. A man who can't carry out that observation is sure not to be up to much. I don't like Latin, said Miss Fredelby, shaking her pretty head. I agree with Heinz's remark that if the Romans had been forced to learn it, they would not have found time to conquer the world. Which was a more agreeable task, said Brian, and more profitable, finished Mr. Fredelby. They chattered in this dulcatory fashion for a considerable time,

till at last Madge rose and said they must go. Brian proposed to dine with him at St. Kilda, and they would, all go to Brock's fireworks. Madge consented to this, and she was just pulling on her gloves when suddenly they heard a ring at the front door, and presently Mrs. Samson talking in an excited manner at the pitch of her voice. You shan't come in, I tell you, they heard her say shrilly, so it's no good trying, which I've always heard as an Englishman's house is his castle, and you're a break in the law, as well as a spoilin the carpets, which has been newly put down. Someone made a reply, then the door of Brian's room was thrown open, and Gorby walked in.

followed by another man. Fitzgerald turned as wide as a sheet, for he instinctively felt that they had come for him. However, pulling himself together, he demanded, in a haughty tone, the reason of the intrusion. Mr. Gorby walked straight over to where Brian was standing and placed his hand on the young man's shoulder. Brian Fitzgerald, he said, in a clear voice, I arrest you in the queen's name. For what? asked Brian, steadily. The murder of Oliver White. At this, Madge gave a cry. It is not true, she said, wild. my God, it's not true. Brian did not answer, but ghastly pale held out his hands. Gorby slipped the handcuffs onto his wrists with a feeling of compunction, despite his joy in

running his man down. This done Fitzgerald turned round to where Madge was standing, pale and still, as though turned into stone. "'Madge,' he said in a clear low voice, "'I am going to prison, perhaps to death, but I swear to you by all that I hold most sacred that I am innocent of this murder.' "'My darling!' she must be. made a step forward, but her father stepped before her. "'Keep back,' he said in a hard voice. "'There is nothing between you and that man now.'

She turned round with an ashen face, but with a proud look in her clear eyes. "'You are wrong,' she answered, with a touch of scorn in her voice. "'I love him more now than ever.' Then, before her father could stop her, she placed her arms round her lover's neck and kissed him wildly. "'My darling,' she said, with the tear streaming down her white cheeks, "'whatever the world may say, you are always dearest of all to me.' brian kissed her passionately and moved away madge fell down at her father's feet in a dead faint end of chapter ten read by sabella denton for more free audio books or to volunteer please visit librivox dot org

chapter eleven of mystery of a handsome cab by fergus hume read for librivox dot org into the public domain counsel for the prisoner brian fitzgerald was arrested at a few minutes past three o'clock and by five all melbourne was ringing with the news that the news that the prisoner bryan fitzgerald was arrested at a few minutes past three o'clock and by five all melbourne was ringing with the news that that the perpetrator of the now famous handsome cab murder had been caught. The evening papers were full of the affair, and the Herald went through several editions, the demand being far in excess of the supply. Such a crime had not been committed in Melbourne since the Greer shooting case in the Opera House, and the mystery by which it was surrounded

made it even more sensational. The committal of the crime in such an extraordinary place as a handsome cab had been startling enough, but the discovery that the assassin was one of the most fashionable young men in Melbourne was still more so. Brian Fitzgerald, being well known in society as a wealthy squatter, and the future husband of one of the richest and prettiest girls in Victoria, it was no wonder that his arrest caused some sensation.

The Herald, which was fortunate enough to obtain the earliest information about the arrest, made the best use of it, and published a flaming article in its most sensational type somewhat after this fashion. Handsome Cab Tragedy! Arrest of the supposed murder! startling revelations in high life. It is needless to say that some of the reporters had painted the lily pretty freely, but the public were ready to believe anything that came out in the papers. Mr. Fredelby, the day after Brian's arrest, had a long conversation with his daughter,

and wanted her to go up to Yabby Yalik Station until the public excitement had somewhat subsided. But this match flatly refused to do. I'm not going to desert him when he most needs me, she said, resolutely. everybody has turned against him, even before they have heard the facts of the case. He says he is not guilty, and I believe him. Then let him prove his innocence, said her father, who was pacing slowly up and down the room. If he did not get into the cab with White, he must have been somewhere else, so he ought to set up the defense of an alibi.

He can easily do that, said Madge, with a ray of hope lighting up her sad face. He was here till eleven o'clock on Thursday night. Very probably, returned her father, dryly. But where was he at one o'clock on Friday morning? "'Besides, Mr. White left the house long before Brian did,' she went on rapidly. "'You must remember. It was when you quarrelled with Mr. White.' "'My dear Madge,' said Fredelby, stopping in front of her with a displeased look, "'you are incorrect. White and myself did not quarrel. He asked me if it were true that Fitzgerald

was engaged to you, and I answered yes. That was all, and then he left the house.' "'Yes, and Brian didn't go until two hours after,' said Madge. "'He never saw Mr. White the whole night.' "'So he says,' replied Mr. Fredelby's. significantly. I believe Brian, before anyone else in the world, said his daughter hotly, with flushed cheeks and flashing eyes. Ah, but will a jury? queried her father. You have turned against him, too, answered Madge, her eyes filling with tears. You believe him guilty. I am not prepared either to deny or confirm his guilt, said Mr. Fredleby coldly.

I have done what I could to help him. I have engaged Calton to defend him, and if eloquence and skill can save him, you may set your mind at rest. "'My dear father,' said Madge, throwing her arms round his neck, "'I knew you would not desert him altogether for my sake.' "'My darling,' replied her father in a faltering voice, as he kissed her, "'there is nothing in the world I would not do for your sake.' Meanwhile, Brian was sitting in his cell in the Melbourne jail, thinking sadly enough about his position.

He saw no hope of escaped except one, and that he did not intend to take advantage of. "'It would kill her, it would kill her,' he said feverishly, as he paced to and fro over the echoing stones. Better that the last of the Fitzgeralds should perish like a common thief, than she should know the bitter truth. If I engage a lawyer to defend me, he went on, the first question he will ask me will be where I was on that night, and if I tell him all will be discovered, and then,

No, no, I cannot do it. It would kill her, my darling. And throwing himself down on the bed he covered his face with his hands. He was roused by the opening of the door of his cell, and on looking up saw that it was Colton who entered. He was a great friend of Fitzgerald's, and Brian was deeply touched by his kindness in coming to see him. Duncan Colton had a kind heart, and was anxious to help Brian, but there was also a touch of self-interest in the matter. He had received a note from Mr. Fredelby, asking him to defend Fitzgerald, which he agreed to do

with avidity, as he foresaw in this case an opportunity for his name becoming known throughout the Australian colonies. It is true that he was already a celebrated lawyer, but his reputation was purely a local one, and as he foresaw that Fitzgerald's trial for murder would cause a great sensation throughout Australia and New Zealand, he determined to take advantage of it as another step in the latter which led to fame, wealth, and position. So this tall, keen-eyed man, with the clean-shaven face and expressive mouth, advanced into the cell, and took Brian by the hand. "'It is very kind of you to come and see me,' said Fitzgerald. "'It is at a a time like this that one appreciates friendship.

"'Yes, of course,' answered the lawyer, fixing his keen eyes on the other's haggard face, as if he would read his innermost thoughts. "'I came partly on my own account, and partly because Fredelby asked me to see you as your defense.' "'Mr. Fredelby,' said Brian in a mechanical way, "'he is very kind. I thought he believed me guilty. "'No man is considered guilty until he's been proved so,' answered Carlton evasively. Brian noticed how guarded the answer was, for he heaved an impatient sigh.

and Miss Fredelby, he asked in a hesitating manner. This time he got a decided answer. She declines to believe you guilty, and will not hear a word said against you. God bless her, said Brian fervently. She is a true woman. I suppose I am pretty well canvassed, he added bitterly. Nothing else talked about, answered Calton calmly. Your rest has for the present suspended all interest in theatres, cricket matches, and balls,

and you are at the present moment being discussed thread-bearing clubs and drawing-rooms. "'Fitzgerald writhed. He was a singularly proud man, and there was something inexpressibly galling in this unpleasant publicity. "'But this is all idle chatter,' said Calton, taking a seat. "'We must get to business. Of course you will accept me as your counsel.' "'It's no good my doing so,' replied Brian, gloomily. "'The rope is already round my neck.' "'Nonsense!' replied the lawyer, cheerfully. "'The rope is round no man's neck till he's on the scaffold.

"'Now, you need not say a word,' he went on, holding up his hand as Brian was a about to speak, I intend to defend you whether you like it or not. I do not know all the facts, except what the papers have stated, and they exaggerate so much that one can place no reliance on them. At all events, I believe from my heart that you are innocent, and you must walk out of the prisoner's dock a free man, if only for the sake of that noble girl who loves you. Brian did not answer, but put out his hand, which the other grasped warmly. I will not deny, went on Calton, that there is a little bit of professional curiosity about me. This case is such an extraordinary one that I feel as if I were unable to let slip an opportunity

of doing something with it. I don't care for your humdrum murders with the poker and all that sort of thing, but this is something clever and therefore interesting. When you are safe, we will look together for the real criminal, and the pleasure of the search will be proportionate to the excitement when we found him out. I agree with everything you say, said Fitzgerald calmly, but have no defense to make. No defense? You are not going to confess you killed him. with an angry flesh, but there are certain circumstances which prevent me from defending myself. What nonsense, retorted Calton sharply, as if any circumstances should prevent a man from saving his own life. But never mind, I like these objections. They make the nut harder to crack. But the colonel

must be worth getting at. Now, I want you to answer certain questions. I won't promise. Well, we shall see, said the lawyer, cheerfully, taking out his notebook and resting it on his knee. First, where were you on the Thursday night preceding the murder? I can't tell you. Oh, yes, you can, my friend. You left St. Kilda and came up to town by the eleven o'clock train. Eleven-twenty, corrected Brian. Calton smiled in a gratified manner as he noted this down. A little diplomacy is all that's required, he said mentally. And where did you go then, he added aloud. I met Rolliston in the train, and we took a cab from the Flinders Street Station up to the club. What club? The Melbourne Club. The Melbourne Club.

"'Yes,' interrogatively. "'Rollstone went home, and I went into the club and played cards for a time. "'When did you leave the club?' "'A few minutes to one o'clock in the morning. "'And then I suppose you went home?' "'No, I did not. "'Then where did you go?' "'Down the street.'

"'Rather vague. I presume you mean Collins Street.' "'Yes. "'You were going to meet someone, I suppose?' "'I never said so. "'Probably not, but young men don't wander about the streets at night without some object.' I was restless and wanted a walk. Indeed, how curious you should prefer going into the heart of the dusty town for a walk to strolling through the Fitzroy Gardens which were on your way home. It won't do. You had an appointment to meet someone. Well, uh, yes. I thought as much. Man or woman?

I cannot tell you. Then I must find out for myself. You can't. Indeed, why not? You don't know where to look for her. Her, cried Calton, delighted at the success of his craftily put question. I knew it was a woman. Brian did not answer, but sat biting his lips with vexation. Now, who is this woman? No answer. Come now, Fitzgerald. I know that young men will be young men, and of course you don't like these things talked about. But in this case your character must be sacrificed to save your neck. What is her name? I can't tell you. Oh, you know it then? Well, yes. And you won't tell me?

No. Calton, however, had found out two things that pleased him. First, that Fitzgerald had had had an appointment, and second, that it had been with a woman. He pursued another line. "'When did you last see white?' Brian answered with great reluctance. I saw him drunk by the Scotch Church. "'What? You were the man who hailed the handsome.' "'Yes,' assented the other, hesitating slightly. "'I was.' The thought flashed through Calton's brain as to whether the young man before him was guilty or not, and he was obliged to confess that things looked very black against him. Then what the newspaper said was correct? Partly. Ah, Calton drew a long,

breath, here was a ray of hope. You did not know it was white when you found him lying drunk near the Scotch Church? No, I did not. Had I known it was he I would not have picked him up. Of course you recognized him afterwards? Yes, I did, and as the paper stated, I dropped him and walked away. Why did you leave him so abruptly? Brian looked at his questioner in some surprise. Because I detested him, he said shortly. Why did you detest him? No answer. Was it because he admired Miss Fredelby, and from all appearances was going to be. going to marry her? Well, yes, sullenly. And now, said Calton impressively, this is the whole point upon which the case turns.

Why did you get into the cab with him? I did not get into the cab. The cabman declares that you did. He is wrong. I never came back after I recognized White. Then who was the man who got into the cab with White? I don't know. You have no idea? Not the least. You are certain? Yes, perfectly certain. He seems to have been dressed exactly like you. "'Very probably. I could name at least a dozen of my acquaintances who wear light coats over their evening dress and soft hats. "'Do you know if White had any enemies?' "'No, I don't. I know nothing about him, beyond that he came from England a short time ago

with a letter of introduction to Mr. Fredelby, and had the impertinence to ask Madge to marry him. "'Where did White live?' "'Down in St. Kilda, at the end of Grey Street. How do you know?' "'It was in the papers, and—and—' hesitatingly, I called on him. "'Why? To see if he would cease his attentions to Madge and to tell him that she was engaged to me.' "'And what did he say?' "'Laughed at me, curse him. You had high words, evidently?'

Brian laughed bitterly. "'Yes, we had. Did anyone hear you?' "'The landlady did, I think. I saw her in the passage as I left the house. The prosecution will bring her forward as a witness. Very likely, indifferently. "'Did you say anything likely to incriminate yourself?' Fitzgerald turned away his head. "'Yes,' he answered in a low voice. "'I spoke very wildly.

Indeed, I did not know at the time what I said. Did you threaten him? Yes, I did. I told him I would kill him if he persisted in his plan of marrying Madge. Ah, if the landlady can swear that she heard you say so, it will form a strong piece of evidence against you. So far as I can see, there is only one defense, and that is an easy one. You must prove an alibi.'

"'No answer.' "'You say you did not come back and get into the cab,' said Calton. watching the face of the other closely. No, it was someone else dressed like me. Then you have no idea who it was? No, I have not. Then after you left White and walked along Russell Street, where did you go? I can't tell you.

Were you intoxicated? No, indignantly. Then you remember? Yes. And where were you? I can't tell you. You refuse. Yes, I do.

Take time to consider. You may have to pay a heavy prize for your refusal. If necessary, I will pay it. "'And you won't tell me where you were?' "'No, I won't.' "'Calton was beginning to feel annoyed. "'You're very foolish,' he said, "'sacrificing your life to some feeling of false modesty.

"'You must prove an alibi.' "'No answer. "'At what hour did you get home?' "'About two o'clock in the morning. "'Did you walk home?' "'Yes, through the Fitzroy Gardens. "'Did you see anyone on your way home?' "'I don't know.

"'I wasn't paying attention. "'Did anyone see you?' "'Not that I know of.' "'Then you refused to tell me where you were between one and two o'clock on Friday morning? Absolutely. Calton thought for a moment to consider his next move. Did you know that White carried valuable papers about with him? Fitzgerald hesitated and turned pale. "'No, I did not know,' he said reluctantly. The lawyer made a masterstroke. Then why did you take them from him? What? He had it with him.'

Calton saw his advantage and seized it at once. Yes, he had it with him. Why did you take it? I did not take it. I didn't even know he had it with him. Indeed. Will you kindly tell me what it is? Brian saw the trap into which he had fallen. No, I will not, he answered steadily. Was it a jewel? No. Was it an important paper? I don't know. Ah, it was a paper. I can see it in your face. And was that paper of importance to you? Why do you ask? Calton fixed his keen gray eyes steadily on Brian's face. Because, he answered slowly, the man to whom that paper was a of such value murdered White. Brian started up, ghastly pale. "'My God!' he almost shrieked, stretching out his hands.

"'It is true, after all, and he fell down on the stone pavement in a dead faint. Calton, alarmed, summoned the jailer, and between them they placed him on the bed and dashed some cold water over his face. He recovered and moaned feebly, while Coulton, seeing that he was unfit to be spoken to, left the prison. When he got outside he stopped for a moment and looked back on the grim-gray walls. Brian Fitzgerald, he said to himself, You did not commit the murder yourself, but you know who did. End of Chapter 11, read by Sabella Denton.

For more free audiobooks or to volunteer, please visit Librevox.org. Chapter 12 of Mystery of a Handsome Cab by Fergus Hume, read for Libravox.org into the public domain. She was a true woman. Melbourne's society was greatly agitated over the handsome cab murder. Before the assassin had been discovered, it had been looked upon merely as a common murder, and one of which society need take no cognizance beyond the bare fact of its committal. But now that one of the most fashionable young men in Melbourne had been arrested as the assassin,

it bad fair to assume gigantic proportions. Mrs. Grundy was shocked, and openly talked about having nourished in her bosom a viper, which had unexpectedly turned and stung her. morning, noon, and night in Torek, drawing-rooms, and Melbourne clubs, the case formed the principal subject of conversation, and Mrs. Grundy was horrified. Here was a young man, well-born, the Fitzgerald's, my dear, an Irish family, with royal blood in their veins, well-bred, most charming manners, I assure you, and so very good-looking, and engaged to one of the richest girls in Melbourne, pretty enough, madam, no doubt, but he wanted her money, sly dog. And this young man, who had been

petted by the ladies, voted a good fellow by the men, and was universally popular, both in drawing-room and club, had committed a vulgar murder. It was truly shocking. What was the world coming to, and what were jails and lunatic asylums built for if men of young Fitzgerald's caliber were not put in them, and kept from killing people? And then, of course, everybody asked everybody else who White was, and why he had never been heard of before. All people who had met Mr. White were worried to death with questions about him, and underwent a species of social martyrdom, as to who he was, what he was like, why he was killed, and all the rest of the insane questions which some people will ask. It was talked about everywhere, in fashionable drawing-rooms at five o'clock

tea, over thin bread and butter and sous shong, at clubs over brandies and sodas and cigarettes, by working men over their midday pint, and by their wives in the congenial atmosphere of the backyard over the wash-tub. The papers were full of paragraphs about the famous murder, and the Society Papers gave an interview with the prisoner by their special specials. reporters, which had been composed by those gentlemen out of the floating rumors which they heard around, and their own fertile imaginations. As to the prisoner's guilt, everyone was certain of it. The cabman Royston had sworn that Fitzgerald had got into the cab with White, and when he got out White was dead. There could be no stronger proof than that, and the general opinion

was that the prisoner would put in no defense, but would throw himself on the mercy of the court. Even the church caught the contagion, and ministers, Anglican, Roman Catholic and Presbyterian, together with the lesser lights of minor denominations, took the handsome cab murder as a text, whereon to preach sermons on the profligacy of the age, and to point out that the only ark which could save men from the rising flun of invidality and immortality was their own particular church. God! as Calton remarked, after hearing five or six ministers each claim their own church as the one special vessel of safety, there seems to be a whole fleet of arcs.

For Mr. Felix Rolliston, acquainted as he was with all concerned, the time was one of great and exceeding joy. He was ever to the fore in retelling to his friends, plus certain garnishments of his own, any fresh evidence that chanced to come to light. His endeavour was to render it the more piquant, if not dramatic. If you asked him for his definite opinion as to the innocence or guilt of the accused, Mr. Felix shook his head sagaciously, and gave him to gave you to understand that neither he nor his dear friend Calton, he knew Calton to nod to, had yet been able to make up their minds about the matter. "'Fact is, you don't know,' observed Mr. Rawliston wisely.

"'There's more in this than meets the eye and all that sort of thing. Think tech to feller's wrong myself. Don't think Fitz killed, White. Jolly, well, sure he didn't.' Then this would be followed invariably by a query in course of, "'Who killed him then?' "'Aha!' Felix would retort, putting his head on one side like a meditative sparrow.

Detective fellas can't find out. That's the difficulty. Good mind to go on the prowl myself, by Jove. But you don't know anything of the detective business, someone would ask. Oh, dear yes, with an airy wave of his hand. I've read Gaborot, you know, awfully jolly life, tectives. Despite this evasion, Ralliston, in his heart of hearts, believed Fitzgerald guilty. But he was one of those persons, who having either tender hearts or obstinate natures, the latter is perhaps the more general, deem it incumbent upon them to come forward in championship of

those in trouble. There are doubtless those who think that Nero was a pleasant young man, whose cruelties were but the resultant of an overflow of high spirits, and who regard Henry the eighth in the light of a hen-pecked husband unfortunate in the possession of six wives. These people delight in expressing their sympathy with great scoundrels of the Ned Kelly order. They view them as the embodiment of heroism, unsympathetically and disgracefully treated, by the narrow understanding of the law. If one half of the world does kick a man when he is down, the other half invariably consoles the prostrate individual with halfpence.

And therefore, even while the weight of public opinion was dead against Fitzgerald, he had his share of avowed sympathy. There was a comfort in this for Madge. Not that if the whole countryside had unanimously condemned her lover, she would have believed him guilty. The element of logic does not enter into the championship of women. Her love for a man is sufficient to exalt him. him to the rank of a demi-god she absolutely refuses to see the clay feet of her idol when all others forsakes she clings to him when all others frown she smiles on him and when he dies she reveres his memory as that of a saint and a martyr

young men of the present day are prone to disparage their womankind but a poor thing is the man who in time of trouble has no woman to stand by him with cheering words and loving comfort and so madge fredelby true woman that she was had nailed her colors to the mast she refused to surrender to any one or before any argument he was innocent and his innocence would be proved for she had an intuitive feeling that he would be saved at the eleventh hour how she knew not but she was certain that it would be so she would have gone to see brian in prison but that her father absolutely forbade her doing so therefore she was dependent upon calton for all the news respecting him and any message which she wished conveyed brian's persistent refusal to set up the defense of an alibi annoyed calton the more so as he could conceive no reason sufficiently worthy of the risk to which it subjected his client if it's for the sake of a woman he said to brian i don't care who she is it's absolutely chaotic self-preservation is the first law of nature and if my neck was in danger i'd spare neither man woman nor child a save it i dare say answered brian but if you had my reasons you might think differently yet in his own mind the lawyer had a suspicion which he thought might perhaps account for brian's obstinate concealment of his movements on the fatal night he had admitted an appointment with a woman he was a handsome young fellow and probably his morals were no better than those of his fellows There was perhaps some intrigue with a married woman. He had perchance been with her on that night, and it was to shield her that he refused to speak. Even so, argued Calton, let him lose his character

rather than his life. Indeed, the woman herself should speak. It would be hard upon her, I admit, yet when a man's life is in danger, surely nothing should stop her. Full of these perplexing thoughts, Calton went down to St. Kilda to have a talk with Madge. He intended to ask her to assist him towards obtaining the information he needs. needed. He had a great respect for Madge and thought her a really clever woman. It was just possible, he argued, that Brian's great love might cause him to confess everything to her at her urgent request. He found Madge awaiting his arrival with anxiety. "'Where have you been all this time?' she said as they sat down.

"'I have been counting every moment since I saw you last. How is he?' "'Just the same,' answered Calton, taking off his gloves, still obstinately refusing to save his own life. Where's your father?' he asked suddenly. "'Out of town,' she answered impatiently. He will not be back for a week. But what do you mean that he won't save his own life?' Calton leaned forward and took her hand. "'Do you want to save his life?' he asked. "'Save his life,' she reiterated, starting up out of her chair with a cry.

"'God knows I would die to save him!' "'Pish!' murmured Calton to himself, as he looked at her glowing face and outstretched hands. These women are always in extremes. The fact is,' he said aloud, "'Fitzgerald is able to prove an alibi, and he refuses to do so.' "'But why?' Calton shrugged his shoulders. "'That is best known to himself. Some chaotic idea of honor, I fancy. Now he refuses to tell me where he was on that night. Perhaps he won't refuse to tell you. So you must come up and see him with me,

and perhaps he will recover his senses and confess.' "'But my father,' she faltered. "'Did you not say he was out of town?' asked Calton. "'Yes,' hesitated Madge. he told me not to go. In that case, said Calton, rising up and taking his hat and gloves, I won't ask you. She laid her hand on his arm. Stop!

Will it do any good? Calton hesitated a moment, for he thought that if the reason of Brian's silence was, as he surmised, an intrigue with a married woman, he might not tell the girl he was engaged to about it. But on the other hand there might be some other reason, and Calton trusted to Madge to find it out. With these thoughts in his mind he turned round. Yes, he answered by.

boldly. It may save his life. "'Then I shall go,' she answered recklessly. "'He is more to me than my father, and if I can save him I will. Wait!' and she ran out of the room. "'An uncommonly plucky girl,' murmured the lawyer, as he looked out of the window. "'If Fitzgerald is not a fool he will certainly tell her all. That is, of course, if he is able to. Queer things these women are!

I quite agree with Bousak saying that no wonder man couldn't understand woman, seeing that God who created her failed to do so.' Madge came back dressed to go out with a heavy veil over her face. "'Shall it order the carriage?' she asked, pulling on her gloves with trembling fingers. "'Hardly,' answered Calton dryly, "'unless you want to see a paragraph in the society papers "'to the effect that Miss Madge Fredelby visited Mr. Fitzgerald in jail. "'No, no, we'll get a cab. Come, my dear.' And taking her arm, he led her away.

They reached the station and caught a train just as it started, yet notwithstanding this Madge was in a fever of impatience. how slowly it goes, she said fretfully. Hush, my dear, said Calton, laying his hand on her arm. You will betray yourself. We'll arrive soon and save him. Oh, God, grant we may, she said with a low cry, clasping her hands tightly together,

while Coulton could see the tears falling from under her thick veil. This is not the way to do so, he said almost roughly. You'll be in hysterics soon. Control yourself for his sake. For his sake, she muttered, and with a powerful sort of will, calmed herself. They soon arrived in Melbourne, and, getting a handsome, drove quickly to the jail. After going through the usual formula, they entered the cell where Brian was, and when the

warder who accompanied them opened the door, they found the young man seated on his bed. He looked up, and on seeing Madge rose, and held out his hands with a cry of delight. She ran forward and threw herself on his breast with a stifled sob. For a short time no one spoke, Calton being at the other end of the cell, busy with some notes which he had taken from his pocket, and the warder. having retired. "'My poor darling!' said Mann, stroking back the soft fair hair from his fleshed forehead. "'How ill you look!'

"'Yes,' answered Fitzgerald with a hard laugh. "'Prison does not improve a man, does it?' "'Don't speak in that tone, Brian,' she said. "'It's not like you. Let us sit down and talk calmly over the matter.' "'I don't see what good that will do,' he answered wearily, as they sat down hand in hand. "'I have talked about it to Calton till my head aches, and it is no good.' "'Of course not,' retorted the Lord. sharply as he also sat down,

nor will it be any good until you come to your senses and tell us where you were on that night. I tell you I cannot. Brian, my dear, said Madge softly, taking his hand. You must tell all, for my sake. Fitzgerald sighed. This was the hardest temptation he had yet been subjected to. He felt half inclined to yield and chanced the result,

but one look at Madge's pure face steeled him against doing so. What could his confession bring but sorrow and regret to one whom he loved better than his life? madge he answered gravely taking her hand again you do not know what you ask yes i do she replied quickly i ask you to save yourself to prove that you are not guilty of this terrible crime and not to sacrifice your life for the sake of-of she stopped and looked helplessly at calton for she had no idea of the reason of fitzgerald's refusal to speak for the sake of a woman finished calton bluntly a woman she faltered still holding her lover's hand is-is "'Is that the reason?' Brian averted his face. "'Yes,' he said in a low, rough voice. A sharp expression of anguish crossed her pale face, and sinking her head on her hands,

she wept bitterly. Brian looked at her in a dogged kind of way, and Calton stared grimly at them both. "'Look here,' he said at length to Brian in an angry voice. "'If you want my opinion of your conduct, I think it's infamous.' "'Beging your pardon, Miss Fredelby, for the expression. "'Here is this noble girl who loves you with her whole heart. and is ready to sacrifice everything for your sake, comes to implore you to save your life, and you coolly turn around and acknowledge another woman.

Brian lifted his head haughtily, and his face flushed. You are wrong, he said, turning round sharply. There is the woman, for whose sake I keep silence. And, rising up from the bed, he pointed to Madge, as she sobbed bitterly on it. She lifted up her haggard face with an air of surprise. For my sake, she cried in a startled voice. Oh, he's mad, said Calton, shrugging his shoulder.

shoulders. I shall put in a defense of insanity. "'No, I'm not mad,' cried Fitzgerald wildly as he caught Madge in his arms. "'My darling, my darling, it is for your sake that I keep silence, and I shall do so, though my life pays the penalty. I could tell you where I was on that night and save myself, but if I did you would learn a secret which would curse your life, and I dare not speak. I dare not!' Madge looked up into his face with a pitiful smile as her tears fell fast. "'Dearest,' she said softly,

Do not think of me, but only of yourself. Better that I should endure misery than that you should die. I do not know what the secret can be, but if the telling of it will save your life, do not hesitate. See, she cried, falling on her knees, I am at your feet. I implore you by all the love you ever had for me to save yourself, whatever the consequence may be to me. Madge, said Fitzgerald, as he raised her in his arm.

At one time I might have done so, but now it is too late. There is another and stronger reason for my silence. which I have only found out since my arrest. I know that I am closing up the one way of escape from this charge of murder, of which I am innocent, but as there is a God in heaven I swear that I will not speak. There was a silence in the cell, broken only by Madge's convulsive sobs, and even Calton, cynical man of the world as he was, felt his eyes grow wet. Brian led Madge over to him and placed her in his arms. "'Take her away,' he said in a broken voice,

"'or I shall forget that I am a man. and turning away he threw himself on his bed, and covered his face with his hands. Calton did not answer him, but summoned the warder, and tried to lead Madge away. But just as they reached the door she broke away from him, and, running back, flung herself on her lover's breast. "'My darling, my darling!' she sobbed, kissing him. "'You shall not die. I shall save you in spite of yourself.' And as if afraid to trust herself longer, she ran out of the cell, followed by the barrister.

End of Chapter 12, read by Isabella Denton. For more free audiobooks or to volunteer, please visit Librevox.org. Chapter 13 of Mystery of a Handsome Cab by Fergus Hume. Read for Libravox.org into the public domain. Madge makes a discovery. Madge stepped into the cab, and Calton paused a moment to tell the cabman to drive to the railway station. Suddenly she stopped him. Tell him to drive to Brian's lodgings in Powlett Street, she said.

laying her hand on Calton's arm. "'What for?' asked the lawyer in astonishment, and also to go past the Melbourne Club, as I want to stop there. "'What the deuce does she mean?' muttered Calton, as he gave the necessary orders and stepped into the cab. "'And now,' he asked, looking at his companion, who had let down her veil, while the cab rattled quickly down the street, "'what do you intend to do?'

She threw back her veil, and he was astonished to see the sudden change which had come over her. There were no tears now, and her eyes were hard and glittering, while her mouth was firmly closed. She looked like a woman who had determined to do a certain thing, and would carry out her intention at whatever cost. "'I intend to save Brian in spite of himself,' she said very distinctly. "'But how?' "'Ah, you think that being a woman I can do nothing,' she said bitterly. "'Well, you shall see.'

"'I beg your pardon,' retorted Calton, with a grim smile. "'My opinion of your sex has always been an excellent one. every lawyer's is stands to reason that it should be so seeing that a woman is at the bottom of nine cases out of ten the old cry nevertheless a true one answered calton ever since the time of father adam it has been acknowledged that women influence the world either for good or evil more than men but this is not to the point he went on rather impatiently what do you propose to do simply this she answered in the first place i may tell you that i do not understand brian's statement that he keeps silence for my sake as there are no secrets in my life that can justify his saying so the facts of the case are simply these brian on the night in question left our house at st kilda at eleven o'clock he told me that he would call at the club to see if there were any letters for him and then go straight home but he might have said that merely as a blind madge shook her head no i do not think so i did not ask him where he was going he told me quite spontaneously i know brian's character and he would not tell a deliberate lie especially when there is no necessity for it i am quite certain that he intended to do as he said and go straight home when he got to the club he found a letter there which caused him to alter his mind from whom was a letter can't you guess she said impatiently from the person man or woman who was a letter from the person man or woman who was a letter from the person man or woman who was a letter from the person man or woman who was a letter from the person who wanted to see him and reveal this secret about me, whatever it is. He got the letter at his club,

and went down Collins Street to meet the rider. At the corner of the Scotch Church he found Mr. White, and on recognizing him, left in disgust, and walked down Russell Street to keep his appointment. Then you don't think he came back? I am certain he did not, for as Brian told you there are plenty of young men who wear the same kind of coat and hat as he does. Who the second young man who got into the cab was I do not know, but I will swear that it was not Brian. "'And you're going to look for that letter?' "'Yes, in Brian's lodgings.' "'He might have burnt it.'

"'He might have done a thousand things, but he did not,' she answered. "'Bryon is the most careless man in the world. "'He would put the letter in his pocket or throw it into the waste paper-basket "'and never think of it again. "'In this case he did, however. "'Yes, he thought of the conversation he had had with the writer, "'but not of the letter itself. "'Depend upon it.

"'We shall find it in his desk or in one of the pockets of the clothes he wore that night.' then there's another thing said calton thoughtfully the letter might have been delivered to him between the elizabeth street railway station and the club we can soon find out about that answered madge for mr rolliston was with him at the time so he was answered calton and here is rolliston coming down the street we'll ask him now the cab was just passing the burke and will's monument and calton's quick eye had caught a glimpse of rolliston walking down the left-hand side what first attracted calton's attention was the glimpse of the girlishon's moment the glimpse of the girl's side what first attracted calton's attention was the glimpse of the glimpse of the glittering appearance of Felix. His well-brushed top hat glittered, his varnished boots glittered, and his rings and scarf-pin glittered. In fact, so resplendent was his appearance that he looked like an animated diamond coming along in the blazing sunshine. The cab drove up to the curb, and Rolliston stopped short as Calton sprang out directly in front of him. Madge lay back in the cab and pulled down her veil, not wishing to be recognized by Felix,

as she knew that if he did it would soon be all over the town. "'Hello, old chap,' said Rolliston in considerable astonishment. "'Where did you spring from?' "'From the cab, of course,' answered Calton with a laugh. "'A kind of deus ex machina,' replied Rolliston, attempting a bad pun. "'Exactly,' said Calton. "'Look here, Ralliston. Do you remember the night of White's murder? You met Fitzgerald at the railway station.'

"'In the train,' corrected Felix. "'Well, well, no matter. You came up with him to the club.' "'Yes, and left him there. "'Did you notice if he received any messages while he was with you?' "'Any message?' replied Felix. "'No, he did not. We were talking together the whole time, and he spoke to no one but me.' "'Was he in good spirits?' "'Excellent. Made me laugh awfully. But why? All this thusness.'

"'Oh, nothing,' answered Calton, getting back into the cab. "'I wanted a little information from you. I'll explain next time I see you. "'Good-bye.' "'But I say,' began Felix, but the cab had already rattled away, so Mr. Rawliston turned angrily away. "'I never saw anything like these lawyers,' he said to himself. "'Calton's a perfect whirlwind, by Jove.' Meanwhile, Calton was talking to Madge. You were quite right.

There must have been a message for him at the club, for he got none from the time he left your place. "'And what shall we do now?' asked Madge, who, having heard all the conversation, did not trouble to question the lawyer about it. "'Find out at the club if any letter was waiting for him on that night,' said Calton, as the cab stopped at the door of the Melbourne Club. "'Here we are,' and with a hasty word to Madge, he ran up the steps. He went to the office of the club to find out if any letters had been waiting for Fitzgerald,

and found there a waiter with whom he was pretty well acquainted. "'Look here, Brown,' said the lawyer, "'do you remember on that Thursday night when the handsome cab murder took place "'if any letters were waiting here for Mr. Fitzgerald?' "'Well, really, sir,' hesitated Brown. "'It's so long ago that I almost forget.' "'Calton gave him a sovereign. "'Oh, it's not that, Mr. Calton,' said the waiter,

pocketing the coin, nevertheless, but I really do forget. Try and remember, said Calton shortly. Brown made a tremendous effort of memory, and at last gave a satisfactory answer. No, sir, there were none. Are you sure, said Calton, feeling a thrill of disappointment? Quite sure, replied the other confidently. I went to the letter-wreck several times that night, and I am sure there were none for Mr. Fitzgerald.

Ah, I thought as much, said Calton, heaving a sigh. Stop, said Brown, as though struck by a sudden idea, though there was no letter come by post, sir, there was one brought to him on that night. "'Ah,' said Calton, turning sharply, at what time? "'Just before twelve o'clock, sir.' "'Who brought it?' "'A young woman, sir,' said Brian in a tone of disgust. "'A bold thing, begging your pardon, sir, and no better than she should be.

She bounced in at the door as bold as brass and sings out, is he in?' "'Get out,' I says, or I'll call the police. "'Oh, no, you won't,' says she. "'You'll give him that, and she shoves a letter into my hands. "'Who's him?' I asked. "'I don't know,' she answers. "'It's written there, and I can't read. "'Give it him at once.'

"'And then she clears out before I could stop her.' "'And the letter was for Mr. Fitzgerald?' "'Yes, sir, and a precious dirty letter it was, too. "'You gave it to him, of course. "'I did, sir. "'He was playing cards and he put it in his pocket, "'after having looked at the outside of it, "'and went on with his game.

"'Didn't he open it?' "'Not then, sir, but he did later on, "'about a quarter to one o'clock. "'I was in the room, and he opens it and reads it. Then he says to himself, What damned impertinence? And puts it in his pocket. Was he disturbed?

Well, sir, he looked angry like, and put his coat and hat on, and walked out about five minutes to one. Ah, and he met White at one, muttered Calton. There's no doubt about it. The letter was an appointment, and he was going to keep it. What kind of letter was it?

He asked. Very dirty, sir, in a square envelope, but the paper was good, and so was the writing. That will do, said Calton. I am much obliged to you, and he hurried down to where Madge awaited him the cab. "'You were right,' he said to her, when the cab was once more in motion. He got a letter on that night, and went to keep his appointment at the time he met White.

"'I knew it!' cried Madge with delight. "'You see, we will find it in his lodgings.' "'I hope so,' answered Calton, "'but we must not be too sanguine. He may have destroyed it.' "'No, he is not,' she replied. "'I am convinced it is there.' "'Well,' answered Calton, looking at her, "'I don't contradict you, for your feminine instincts have done more to discover the truth than my reasonings, but that is often the case with women. They'd jump in the dark where a man would

hesitate, and nine cases out of ten land safely. Alas, for the tenth, said Miss Fredelby, she has to be the one exception to prove the rule. She had in a great measure recovered her spirits, and seemed confident that she would save her lover. But Mr. Calton saw that her nerves were strung up to the highest pitch, and that it was only her strong will that kept her from breaking down altogether. By Jove! he muttered in an admiring tone, as he watched her, she's a plucky girl and fitzgerald is a lucky man to have the love of such a woman they soon arrived at brian's lodgings and the door was opened by mrs sampson who looked very disconsolate indeed the poor cricket had been blaming herself severely for the information she had given to the false insurance agent and the floods of tears which she had wept had apparently in effect on her physical condition for she crackled less loudly than usual though her voice was as shrill as ever "'That such a thing could have happened to him,' she wailed in her thin, high voice,

"'and me that proud of not having any family my own, except one has died and went up to heaven out of his father, which I hopes as they are both angels and friendly, as his nature had not developed in this valley of the shatter to determine his feelings toward his father when he died, being carried off by a chill caused by the change from aught to cold, the weather being that contrary.' they had arrived in brian's sitting-room by this time and madge sank into a chair while calthon anxious to begin the search hinted to mrs sampson that she could go i'm departin sir piped the cricket with a sad shake of her head as she opened the door no an as i do as he's innocent as an unborn babe and to think of me a've told that horrid person who had no regard for the truth of all about him is now in a cold cell not as what the weather ain't warm and he won't want a fire as long as they allows him blank "'What did you tell them?' asked Calton sharply.

"'Ah, you may well say that,' lamented Mrs. Sampson, rolling her dingy handkerchief into a ball, and dabbing at her red-rimmed eyes, which presented quite a bacchanalian appearance. Do, be it said injustice, to grief, not to liquor. "'Haven't been beguile by that serping in light clothes, as wanted to know if he always came home before twelve, which I said as he was in the abbot of doing, though, to be sure he did sometimes use his latch-key.'

the night of the murder for instance oh don't say that sir said mrs sampson with a terrified crackle me being weak in ailin though coming of a strong family as always lived to a good age through being in the habit of wearing flannels which my mother's father thought better nor a spoil in the inside with chemistry clever man that detective murmured calton to himself he got out of her by a strategy what he never would have done by force it's a strong piece of evidence against fitzgerald but it does not matter much if he could prove an alibi you'll likely be called as a witness for the prosecution he said aloud me sir squeaked mrs sampson trembling violently and thereby producing a subdued rustle as of wind in the trees as i've never been in the court cept the time his father took me for a tree to ear a murder which there's no denying as as good as o play e bein un avon it his wife over the ed with a poker when she weren't lookin an a burying her corpse in a back garden without even a stone to mark the place let alone a line from the psalms and a remuneration of her virtues well well said calton rather impatiently as he opened the door for her leave us for a short time there's a good soul miss fredelby and i want to rest and we will ring for you when we are going thank you sir said the lacrimos landlady and i hopes they won't hang him which is such a choky way o dying but in life we are in death She went on, rather incoherently, "'As is well known to Emma's diseases, "'and maybe corpse at any minute,

"'and as—' Here, Carlton, "'unable to restrain his impatience any longer, "'shut the door, "'and they heard Mrs. Sampson's shrill voice "'and subdued cracklings "'die away in the distance. "'Now, then,' he said, "'now that we've got rid of that woman

"'in her tongue, where are we to begin?' "'The desk,' replied Madge, "'going over to it. "'It's the most likely place.' "'Don't think so,' said Calton, "'shaking his head. "'If, as you say, Fitzgerald is a careless man, he would not have trouble to put it there. However, perhaps we'd better look.

The desk was very untidy. Just like Brian, as Madge remarked, full of paid and unpaid bills, old letters, play bills, ball programs, and withered flowers. Reminiscences of former flirtations, said Calton with a laugh, pointing to those. I should not wonder, retorted Miss Freddleby coolly. Brian always was in love with some one or other, but you know what Lytton says. There are many counterfeits, but only one eras, so I can afford to forget these things. The letter, however, was not to be found in the desk, nor was it in the sitting-room. They tried the bedroom, but with no better result.

Madge was about to give up the search in despair, when suddenly Calton's eye fell on the waste-paper basket, which by some unaccountable reason they had overlooked. The basket was half full, in fact more than half, and on looking at it a sudden thought struck the lawyer. He rang the bell, and presently Mrs. Sampson made her opinion. "'How long has that waste-paper basket been standing like that?' he asked, pointing to it. "'It bein the only fault I had to find with him,' said Mrs. Sampson, "'e being that untidy that he never let me clean it out till he told me personally.

He said his owie throwed things into it as he might have to look up again, and I haven't touched it for more nor six weeks. "'Open, you won't think me a bad housekeeper, it be in his own wish, "'being fond of litter and such like.' "'Six weeks,' repeated Calton with a look at Madge. "'Ah, and he got the letter four weeks ago. "'Depend upon it, we shall find it there.' madge gave a cry and falling on her knees emptied the basket out on the floor and both she and calton were soon as busy among the fragments of paper as though they were rag-pickers open they aren't off their heads murmured mrs sampson as she went to the door but it looks like it they'd be an

suddenly a cry broke from madge as she drew out of the mass of paper a half-burnt letter written on thick and creamy-looking paper at last she cried rising off her knees and smoothing it out i knew he had not destroyed it pretty nearly however said calton as his eyes glanced rapidly over it it's all most useless as it is there's no name to it he took it over to the window and spread it out upon the table it was dirty and half burnt but still it was a clue there was not much left of it there is not much to be gained from that i'm afraid said madge sadly it shows that he had an appointment but where calton did not answer but leaning his head on his hands stared hard at the paper at last he jumped up with a cry I have it, he said in an excited tone. Look at that paper. See how creamy and white it is, and above all, look at the printing on the corner. Ot Villa, Turok. Then he went down to Taurac.

In an hour, and back again? Hardly. Then it was not written from Taurac? No, it was written in one of the Melbourne back slums. How do you know? Look at the girl who brought it, said Caltin quickly, a disreputable-looking woman, one far more likely to come from the back slums than from Taurac. As to the paper, three months ago. there was a robbery at turak, and this is some of the paper that was stolen by the thieves.

Madge said nothing, but her sparkling eyes and the nervous trembling of her hands showed her excitement. "'I will see a detective this evening,' said Calton, exultingly. "'Find out where this letter came from and who wrote it. "'We'll save him yet,' he said, placing the precious letter carefully in his pocket-book. "'You think you will be able to find the woman who wrote that?' "'Hm,' said the lawyer, looking thoughtful. "'She may be dead, as the letter says she is in a dying condition.

However, if I can find the woman who delivered the letter at the club and waited for Fitzgerald at the corner of Bork and Russell Street, that will be sufficient. All I want to prove is that he was not in the handsome cab with White. And do you think you can do that? Depends upon this letter, said Calton, tapping his pocket-book with his finger. I'll tell you to-morrow. Shortly afterwards they left the house, and when Calton put Madge safely into the St. Kilda train, her heart felt lighter than it had done since Fitzgerald's arrest.

End of Chapter 13, read by Sabella Denton. For more free audiobooks or to volunteer, please visit Librevox.org. Chapter 14 of Mystery of a Handsome Cab by Fergus Hume, read for Libravox.org into the public domain. Another Richmond in the field. There is an old adage that says, Like draws to like. The antithesis of this is probably that unlike repels unlike.

But there are times when individualism does not enter into the matter, and fate alone by throwing two persons together sets up a state congenial or uncongenial as the case may be fate chose to throw together mr gorby and mr kilsip and each was something more than uncongenial to the other each was equally clever in their common profession each was a universal favorite yet each hated the other they were as fire and water to one another and when they came together invariably there was trouble kilsip was tall and slender gorby was short and stout kilsip looked clever gorby wore a smile of self-satisfaction which alone was sufficient to prevent his doing so yet singularly enough it was this very smile that proved most useful to gorby in the pursuit of his colleague it enabled him to come at information where his sharp-looking colleague might try in vain the hearts of all went forth to gorby's sweet smile in insinuating matter But when Kilsip appeared, people were wont to shut up and to retire promptly like alarmed snails within their shells. Gorby gave the lie direct to those who hold that the face is ever the index to the mind. Kilsup, on the other hand, with his hawk-like countenance, his brilliant black eyes,

hooked nose and small, thin-lipped mouth endorsed the theory. His complexion was quite colorless, and his hair was jet black. Altogether he could not be called fair to look upon. His craft and cunning were of the snake-like order. So long as he conducted his inquiries in secret he was generally successful, but once let him appear personally on the scene, and failure was assured him. Thus, while Kilsip passed as the cleverer, Gorby was invariably the more successful, at all events ostensibly. When, therefore, this handsome cab murder case was put into Gorby's hands, the soul of Kilsip was smitten with envy,

and when Fitzgerald was arrested, and all the evidence collected by Gorby seemed to point so conclusively to his guilt, Kilsip writhed in secret over the triumph of his enemy. Though he would have only been too glad to say that Gourby had got hold of the wrong man, yet the evidence was so conclusive that such a thought never entered his head, until he received a note from Mr. Kalton, asking him to call at his office that evening at 8 o'clock, with reference to the murder. Kilsip knew that Calton was counsel for the prisoner. He guessed that he was wanted to follow up a clue, and he determined to devote himself to

whatever Calton might require of him, if only to prove Gorby to be wrong. So pleased was he at the mere possibility of triumphing over his rival, that on casually meeting him he stopped and invited him to drink. The primary effect of his sudden and unusual hospitality was to arouse all Gorby's suspicions, but on second thoughts, deeming himself quite a match for Kilsyp, both mentally and physically, Gorby accepted the invitation. "'Ah!' said Kilsyp, in his soft low voice, rubbing his lean, white hands together, as they sat over their drinks.

"'You're a lucky man to have laid your hands on that handsome cab murderer so quickly.' "'Yes, I flatter myself I did manage it pretty well,' said Gourby, lighting his pipe. "'I had no idea that it would be so simple, though, mind you, it required a lot of thought before I got a proper start.' "'I suppose you're pretty sure he's the man you want?' pursued Kilsip, softly, with a brilliant flash of his black eyes. "'Pretty sure indeed,' retorted Mr. Gorby, scornfully. "'There ain't no pretty sure about it.

i'll take my bible oath he's the man he and white hated one another he says to white i'll kill you if i've got to do it in the open street he meets white drunk a fact which he acknowledges himself he clears out and the cabman swears he comes back then he gets into the cab with a living man and when he comes out leaves a dead one he drives to east melbourne and gets into the house at a time which his landlady can prove just the time that a cab would take to drive from the grammar school on the st kilda road if you ain't a fool kilsip you'll see as there's the same you'll see as there's a man you'll see as there's a man you'll see as there's a man you'll see as the man you'll see as the man you'll there's no doubt about it. It all looks square enough, said Kilsip, who wondered what evidence Calton could have found to contradict such a plain statement of fact. And what's his defense? Mr. Calton's the only man as knows that, answered Gordby, finishing his drink. But clever in all as he is he can't put anything in that can go against my evidence. Don't you be too sure of that? sneered Kilsop, whose soul was devoured with envy. Oh, but I am, retorted Gourby, getting as red as a turkey-cock at the sneer. You're jealous you are,

"'because you haven't got a finger in the pie.' "'Ah, but I may have yet.' "'Going a hunting for yourself, are you?' said Gorby, with an indignant snort. "'A hunting for what? For a man, as is already caught?' "'I don't believe you've got the right man,' remarked Kilsip deliberately. Mr. Gorby looked upon him with a smile of pity. "'No, of course you don't. Just because I've caught him. Perhaps when you see him hanged, you'll believe it then?'

"'You're a smart man, you are,' retorted Kilsip, "'but you ain't the Pope to be infallible.' "'And what grounds have you for saying he's not the right man?' demanded Gorby. "'Kilsip smiled and stole softly across the room like a cat. "'You don't think I'm such a fool as to tell you, "'but you ain't so safe nor as clever as you think.' "'And with another irritating smile he went out. "'He's a regular snake,' said Gorby to himself,

"'as the door closed on his brother detective, "'but he's bragging now. "'There isn't a link missing in the chain of evidence against Fitzgerald, "'so I defy him. He can do his worst.' at eight o'clock on that night the soft-footed and soft-voiced detective presented himself at calton's office he found the lawyer impatiently waiting for him kilsip closed the door softly and then taking a seat opposite to calton waited for him to speak the lawyer however first handed him a cigar then producing a bottle of whisky and two glasses from some mysterious recess he filled one and pushed it towards the detective kilsip accepted these little attentions with the utmost gravity yet they were not without their effect on on him, as the keen-eyed lawyer saw. Calton was a great believer in diplomacy, and never lost an opportunity of inculcating it into young men starting in life. Diplomacy, said Calton to one young

aspirant for legal honors, is the oil we cast on the troubled waters of social, professional, and political life, and if you can, by a little tact, manage mankind, you are pretty certain to get on in this world. Calton was a man who practiced what he preached. He believed Kilsip to have that feline nature which likes to be stroked, to be made much of, and he paid him these little attentions, knowing full well they would bear their fruit. He also knew that Killsip entertained no friendly feeling for Gorby, that in fact he bore him hatred, and he determined that this feeling which existed between the two men should serve him to the end he had in view. "'I suppose,' he said, leaning back in his chair and watching the wreaths of blue smoke curling

from a cigar, "'I suppose you know the ins and the outs of the handsome cab murder?' "'I should rather think so,' said Kilsip, with a curious light in his queer eyes. "'Why, Gorby does nothing but brag about it, and his smartness in catching the supposed murderer.' "'Aha!' said Kalton, leaning forward and putting his arms on the table. "'Supposed murderer! He! Does that mean he hasn't been convicted by a jury, or that you think that Fitzgerald is innocent?' Killsip stared hard at the lawyer, in a vague kind of way, slowly rubbing his hands together. "'Well,' he said at length in a deliberate manner,

before I got your note I was convinced that Gorby had got hold of the right man, but when I heard that you wanted to see me, and knowing you are defending the prisoner, I guess that you must have found out something in his favor which you wanted me to look after. "'Right,' said Calton laconically. "'As Mr. Fitzgerald said he met White at the corner and hailed the cab,' went on the detective. "'How do you know that?' interrupted Calton sharply. "'Gorby told me. "'How the devil did he find out?' cried the lawyer, with genuine surprise.

"'Because he is always poking and prying about,' said Kilsip, "'forgetting in his indignation that such poking and prying formed a part of detective business. "'But at any rate,' he went on quickly, "'if Mr. Fitzgerald did leave Mr. White, "'the only chance he's got of proving his innocence "'is that he did not come back, as the cabman alleged. "'Then I suppose you think that Fitzgerald will prove an alibi,' said Kalton.

"'Well, sir,' answered Kilsit modestly, "'of course you know more about the case than I do, "'but that is the only defence I can see he can make.' make. Well, he's not going to put in such a defense. Then he must be guilty, said Killsip promptly. Not necessarily, returned the barrister dryly. But if he wants to save his neck, he'll have to prove an alibi, persisted the other. That's just where the point is, answered Kaltun. He doesn't want to save his neck. Kilsib, looking rather bewildered, took a sip of whiskey and waited to hear what Mr. Kallton had to say. The fact is, said Kaltun, lighting a fresh cigar, he has some

extraordinary idea in his head. He refuses absolutely to say where he was on that night. I understand, said Kilsip, nodding his head. Woman? No, nothing of the kind, retorted Kaltin hastily. I thought so at first, but I was wrong. He went to see a dying woman who wished to tell him something. What about? That's just what I can't tell you, answered Kalton quickly. It must have been something important, for she sent for him in great haste, and he was by her bedside between the hours of one and two on Friday morning. Then he did not return to the cab. no he did not he went to keep his appointment but for some reason or other he won't tell where this appointment was i went to his rooms to-day and found this half-burnt letter asking him to come

calton handed the letter to kilsip who placed it on the table and examined it carefully this was written on thursday said the detective of course you can see that from the date and white was murdered on friday the twenty seventh it was written at something villa turak pursued kilsup still examining the paper oh i understand he went down there hardly retorted calton in a sarcastic tone he couldn't very well go down there have an interview and be back in east melbourne in one hour the cabman royston can prove that he was at russell street at one o'clock and his landlady that he entered his lodging in east melbourne at two no he wasn't at turak when was this letter delivered shortly before twelve o'clock at the melbourne club by a girl who from what the waiter saw of her appears to have been a disreputable individual you will see you will see that-and-you will see a little bit of her-you will see a little you will see it says bearer will wait him at bork street and as another street is mentioned and as fitzgerald after leaving white went down russell street to keep his appointment the most logical conclusion is that the bearer of the letter waited for him at the corner of bork and russell streets now went on the lawyer i want to find out who the girl that brought the letter is but how god bless my so kilsip how stupid you are cried calton his irritation getting the better of him can't you understand that paper came from one of the back slums therefore it must have been stolen. A sudden light flashed into Kilsip's eyes. Talbot Villa, Turek! he cried quickly,

snatching up the letter again and examining it with great attention, where that burglary took place. Exactly, said Calton, smiling complacently. Now do you understand what I want? You must take me to the crib in the back slums where the articles stolen from the house in Turek were hidden. This paper, pointing to the letter, is part of the swag left behind and must have been used by someone there.

Brian Fitzgerald obeyed the directions given in the letter, and he was there at the time of the murder. I understand, said Kilsip, with a gratified purr. There were four men engaged in that burglary, and they hid the swag at Mother Guttersnipes's crib, in a lane off Little Bork Street. But hang it! A swell like Mr. Fitzgerald, an evening dress, couldn't very well have gone down there unless— he had someone with him well-known in the locality, finished Calton rapidly. Exactly. That woman who delivered the letter at the club guided him. judging from the waiter's description of her appearance i should think she was pretty well known about the slums well said calcip rising and looking at his watch it is now nine o'clock so if you like we will go to the old hagg's place at once dying woman he said as if struck by a sudden thought there was a woman who died there about four weeks ago who was she asked calton who was putting on his overcoat some relation of mother guttersnipes i fancy answered kilsip as they left the office i don't know exactly what she was she was she was she was

was called the queen, and a precious handsome woman she must have been, came from Sydney about three months ago, and from what it can make out, was not long from England, died of consumption on the Thursday night before the murder. End of Chapter 14, read by Sabella Denton. For more free audiobooks or to volunteer, please visit Librevox.org. Chapter 15 of Mystery of a Handsome Cab by Fergus Hume, read for Libravox.org into the public domain. A woman of the people.

Bork Street is a more crowded thoroughfare than Collins Street, especially at night. The theatres that it contains are in themselves sufficient for the gathering of a considerable crowd. It is a grimy crowd, for the most part. Round the doors of the hotels a number of ragged and shabby-looking individuals collect, waiting till some kind of friends shall invite them to step inside. Further on, a nod of horsey-looking men are to be seen standing under the Opera House veranda, giving and taking odds about the Melbourne Cup, or some of the horsey-looking men, or some of horsey-looking men, are to be seen standing under the Opera House veranda, giving and other meeting. Here and there are ragged street Arabs selling matches and newspapers, and against the veranda post, in the full blaze of the electric light, leans a weary,

draggled-looking woman, one arm clasping a baby to her breast, and the other holding a pile of newspapers, while she drones out in a horse-voice,—' Errol! Third edition! One penny! Till the ear wearies of the constant repetition. Cabs rattle incessantly along the street. Here, a fast-looking handsome, with a rakeish horse, bearing some gilded youth to his club there a dingy-looking vehicle drawn by a lank quadruped which staggers blindly down the street alternating with these carriages dash by with their well-groomed horses and within the vision of bright eyes white dresses and the sparkle of diamonds then further up just on the verge of the pavement three violins and a harp are playing a german waltz to an admiring crowd of attentive spectators if there is one thing which the melbourne folk love more than another it is music their fondness for it is only equalled by their admiration for horse-racing any street band which plays it all decently may be sure of a good audience and a substantial remuneration for their performance some writer has described melbourne as glasgow with the sky of alexandria and certainly the beautiful climate of australia so italian in its brightness must have a great effect on the nature of such an adaptable race as the anglo-saxon in spite of the dismal prognostications of marcus clark regarding the few

future Australian, whom he describes as being a tall, coarse, strong-jawed, greedy, pushing, talented man, excelling in swimming and horsemanship, it is more likely that he will be a cultured, indolent individual, with an intense appreciation of the arts and sciences, and a dislike to hard work and utilitarian principles. Climatic influence should be taken into account with regard to the future Australian, and our posterity will no more resemble us than the luxurious Venetians resembled their hardy forefathers, who first started to build on those lonely, sandy islands of the Adriatic. This was the conclusion at which Mr. Calton arrived, as he followed his guide through the

crowded streets, and saw, with what deep interest the crowd listened to the rhythmic strains of Strauss and the sparkling melodies of Offenbach. The brilliantly lit street, with the never-ceasing stream of people pouring along, the shrill cries of the street Arabs, the rattle of vehicles, and the fitful strains of music, all made up a simple stream of music. All made up a scene which fascinated him, and he could have gone on wandering all night, watching the myriad phases of human character constantly passing before his eyes. But his guide, with whom familiarity with the proletarians had, in great measure, bred indifference, hurried him away to Little Bork Street, where the narrowness of the thoroughfare, with the high buildings on each

side, the dim light of the sparsely scattered gas-lamps, and the few ragged-looking figures slouching along, formed a strong contrast to the brilliant and crowded scene they had just left. turning off little bork street the detective led the way down a dark lane it was as hot as a furnace from the accumulated heat of the day to look up at the clear starlit sky was to experience a sensation of delicious coolness "'Keep close to me,' whispered Kilsip, touching the barrister on the arm. "'We may meet some nasty customers about here.' "'It was not quite dark, for the atmosphere had that luminous kind of haze so observable in Australian twilights, and this weird light was just sufficient to make the darkness visible. Kilsip and the barrister kept for safety in the middle of the alley,

so that no one could spring upon them unaware, and they could see sometimes on the one side a man cowering back into the black shadow, or on the other, a woman with disordered hair and a bare bosom, leaning out of a window trying to get a breath of fresh air. There were also some children playing in the dried-up gutter, and their shrill young voices came echoing strangely through the gloom, mingling with a bacchanalian sort of song, sung by a man, as he slouched along unsteadily over the rough stones. Now and then a mild-looking string of Chinamen stroll along, clad in their dull-hued blue boughs, either chattering shrilly, like a lot of parrots, or moving silently down the alley with a stolid

oriental apathy on their yellow faces. Here and there came a stream of warm light through an open door, and within the Mongolians were gathered around the gambling tables, playing fantan, or leaving the seductions of their favorite pastime, to glide soft-footed to the many cook-shops, where enticing-looking fowls and turkeys already cooked were awaiting purchasers. Kilsip, turning to the left, led the barrister down another, and still narrower lane, the darkness and gloom of which made the lawyer shudder, as he wondered how human beings could live in such murky places. At last, to Calton's relief, for he felt somewhat bewildered by the darkness and narrowness of the lanes through which he had been taken,

the detective stopped before a door, which he opened, and, stepping inside, beckoned to the barrister to follow. Calton did so, and found himself in a low, dark, ill-smelling passage. At the end a faint light glimmered. Killsip caught his companion by the arm and guided him carefully along the passage. There was much need of this caution, for Calton could feel that the rotten boards were full of holes, into which one or the other of his feet kept slipping from time to time, while he could hear the rat squeaking and scampering away on all sides. Just as they got to the end of this tunnel, for it could be called nothing else, the light suddenly went out, and they were left in complete darkness. "'Light that!' cried the detective in a peremptory tone of voice.

"'What do you mean by dousing the glim?' thieves argo was evidently well understood here for there was a shuffle in the dark a muttered voice and some one lit a candle calton saw that the light was held by an elfish-looking child tangled masses of black hair hung over her scowling white face as she crouched down on the floor against the damp wall she looked up defiantly yet fearfully at the detective where's mother guttersnight asked kilsip touching her with his foot she seemed to resent the indignity and rose quickly to her feet up stairs she replied jerking her head in the direction of the right wall following her direction calton his eyes now somewhat accustomed to the gloom could discern a gaping black chasm which he presumed was the stair alluded to you won't get much out of her to-night she's a-goin to start her booze she is never mind what she is going or about to do said kilsip sharply take me to her at once the girl looked him sullenly up and down and then she led the way into the black chasm and up the stairs they were so shaky as to make calton fear they might give way as they toiled slowly up the broken steps he held tightly to his companion's arm at last they stopped at a door through the cracks of which a faint glimmer of light was to be seen here the girl gave a shrill whistle and the door opened still proceeded by their elfish guide Calton and the detective stepped through the doorway. A curious scene was before them. A small square room with a low roof, from which the paper, mildewed and torn, hung in shreds, on the left hand,

at the far end, was a kind of low stretcher, upon which a woman, almost naked, lay amid a heap of greasy clothes. She appeared to be ill, for she kept tossing her head from side to side restlessly, and every now and then sang snatches of song in a cracked voice. In the center of her room was a rough deal-table, upon which stood a guttering tallow candle which but faintly illuminated the scene and a half-empty rectangular bottle of schnapps with a broken cup beside it in front of these signs a festivity sat an old woman with a pack of cards spread out before her and from which she had evidently been telling the fortune of a villainous-looking young man who had opened the door and who stood looking at the detective with no very friendly expression of countenance he wore a greasy brown velvet coat much patched and a black wide-away cat hat pulled down over his eyes. From his expression, so scowling and vindictive was it, the barrister judged his ultimate destiny to lie between Pentridge and the gallows. As they entered, the fortune-teller raised her head, and, shading her eyes with one skinny

hand, looked curiously at the newcomers. Calton thought he had never seen such a repulsive-looking old crone, and in truth her ugliness was, in its very grotesqueness well-worthy of the pencil of a door. Her face was seamed and lined with innumerable wrinkles, clearly defined by the dirt which was in them bushy gray eyebrows drawn frowningly over two piercing black eyes whose light was undimmed by aged a hooked nose like the beak of a bird of prey and a thin-lipped mouth devoid of teeth her hair was very luxurious and almost white and was tied up in a great bunch by a greasy bit of black ribbon as to her chin calton when he saw it wagging to and fro involuntarily quoted macbeth's lines ye should be woman and yet your be beards forbid me to interpret that she are so she was no bad representative of the weird sisters as they entered she eyed them viciously demanding what the blazes they wanted watch your booze cried the child with an elfish laugh as she was a littleish laugh as she entered she eyed them viciously demanding what the blazes they wanted watch your booze cried the child with an elfish laugh as she was she shook back her tangled hair. "'Get out, you well!' croaked the old hag,

shaking one skinny fist at her, or I'll tell your heart out. "'Yes, she can go,' said Kilsip, nodding to the girl, "'and you can clear, too,' he added sharply, turning to the young man, who stood, still holding the door open. At first he seemed inclined to dispute the detective's order, but ultimately obeyed him, muttering, as he went out, something about the bloomin cheek of showing swells coves' cribs. The child followed him out, her exit being

accelerated by Mother Guttersnipe, who, with a rapidity only attained by long practice, seized the shoe from one of her feet, and flung it at the head of the rapidly retreating girl. "'Way till I catch as you, Lizzer!' she shrieked with a volley of oaths. I'll break your head for you. Lizer responded with a shrill laugh of disdain, and vanished through the shaky door, which she closed after her. When she had disappeared, Mother Guttersnipe took a drink from the broken cup, and gathering all her greasy cards together in a business-like way, looked insinuatingly at Calton with a suggestive leer. "'It's the future you want to unveil, dearie,' she croaked, rapidly shuffling the cars,

"'and old mother'll tell—' "'No, she won't,' interrupt the detective sharply. "'I've come on business.' The old woman started at this, and looked keenly at him from under her bushy eyebrows. "'What have the boys been up to now?' she asked harshly. "'There ain't no swagger this time.' "'Just then the sick woman, who had been restlessly tossing on the bed, commenced singing a snatch of the quaint old ballad of Barbara Allen. "'Oh, mother, mother, make my bed, and make it soft and narrow.

Since my true love died for me to-day, I'll die for him to-morrow.' "'Shut up, Kassu!' yelled Mother Gutter Snite viciously, "'or I'll knock your blue minute off!' And she seized the square bottle as if to carry out her threat. But altering her mind, she poured some of its contents into the cup, and drank it off with avidity. "'The woman seems ill,' said Calton, casting a shuddering, glance at the stretcher. "'So she are,' growled Mother Gutter-snife angrily.

"'She ought to be in nearer, Ben, she ought, instead of stopping ear and singing them beastly things, which makes my blood run cold. "'Just earer,' she said viciously, as the sick old woman broke out once more. "'Oh, little did my mother think, when she first cradled me. "'I die so far away from her upon the gallows tree.' "'Yeah,' said the old woman hastily, drinking some more gin out of the cup. "'She's always a-talkin' a-t-dying-d-dye-garers, as if they were nice, things to jar about. Who was that woman who died here three or four weeks ago? asked Kalsip sharply.

How should I know? retorted Mother Gutter-Sype suddenly. I didn't kill her, did I? It were the brandy she drank. She were always drinking, cuss her. Do you remember the night she died? No, I don't, answered the bell dame, frankly. I were drunk, blind, blooming, blazing drunk, so help me. You're always drunk, said Kilsip. What if I am? snarled the woman, seizing her bottle. "'You don't pay for it. Yes, I'm drunk. I'm always drunk. I was drunk last night in the night before, and I'm going to get drunk to-night,' with an impressive look at the bottle, "'and tomorrow night, and I'll keep it up till I'm rotten in the grave.' Calton shuddered, so full of hatred and suppressed malignity, was her voice,

but the detective merely shrugged his shoulders. "'More fool you,' he said briefly. "'Come now. On the night the queen, as you call her, died. There was a gentleman came to see her.' "'So she said,' retorted Mother Gutter's night, but Laura, I don't know anything. I were drunk. Who said, the Queen? No, my granddaughter, Sal. The Queen sent her to fetch the Toff to see her cut or lucky. Wanted him to look at his work, I suppose, cuss him, and Sal pigged some paper from me box,

she shrieked indignantly. Prigged it when I went too drunk to stop her. The detective glanced at Calton, who nodded to him with a gratified expression on his face. They were right as to the paper having been stolen from the villa at Turak. You did not see the gentleman who came. said Kilsyp, turning again to the old hag. "'Not I, cuss you,' she retorted politely. "'He came about half-past one in the morning,

and you don't expect we can stop up all night, do you?' "'Half past one o'clock,' repeated Calton quickly. "'The very time. Is this true?' "'Wish I may die if it ain't,' said Mother Gutter-snipe graciously. "'My granddaughter, Sal, can tell you.' "'Where is she?' asked Kilsip sharply. At this the old woman threw back her head and howled dismay. "'She zooked it,' she wailed,

drumming on the ground with her feet. Gone and loved her poor old grand and joined the army, cuss him, a coming around and spoiling business. Here the woman on the bed broke out, Since the flowers of the forest are wet away. Old your jaw, yelled Mother Gutter-snop, rising and making a dart at the bed. I'll choke the life out of you, so help me. Do you want me to murder you, singing him funeral things?

Meanwhile, the detective was talking rapidly to Mr. Calton. The only person who can prove Mr. Fitzgerald was here between one, one and two o'clock, he said, quickly, is Sal Rollins, as everyone else seems to have been drunk or asleep. As she has joined the Salvation Army, I'll go to the barracks the first thing in the morning and look for her. I hope you'll find her, answered Calton, drawing a long breath. A man's life hangs on her evidence. They turn to go, Calton having first given Mother Guttersnipes some loose silver, which she seized on with an avaricious clutch. You'll drink it, I suppose, said the barrister, shrinking back from her.

very likely retorted the hag with a repulsive grin tying the money up in a piece of her dress which she tore off for the purpose i'm fording to the public-house i am it's the only pleasure i have in my life cusset the sight of money had a genial effect on her nature for she held a candle at the head of the stairs as they went down so that they should not break their heads as they arrived safely they saw the light vanish and heard the sick woman singing the last rose of summer the street door was open and after groping their way along the dark passage with its pitfalls they found themselves in the open street thank heaven said calton taking off his hat and drawing a long breath thank heaven we are safely out of that den at all events our journey has not been wasted said the detective as they walked along we found out where mr fitzgerald was on the night of the murder so he will be safe that depends on sal rawlins answered calton gravely but come let us have a glass of brandy for i feel quite ill after my experience of low life End of Chapter 15, read by Sabella Denton. For more free audiobooks or to volunteer, please visit Librevox.org. Chapter 16 of Mystery of a Handsome Cab by Fergus Hume. Read for Libravox.org into the public domain.

Missing. The next day Kilsip called at Kalton's office late in the afternoon, and found the lawyer eagerly expecting him. The detective's face, however, looked rather dismal, and Kalton was not reassured. Well, he said impatiently, when Kilsip had closed. the door and taken a seat. Where is she?' "'That's just what I want to know,' answered the detective coolly.

I went to the Salvation Army headquarters and made inquiries about her. It appears that she had been in the Army as a hallelujah lass, but got tired of it in a week, and went off with a friend of hers to Sydney. She carried on her old life of dissipation, but ultimately her friend got sick of her, and the last thing they heard about her was that she had taken up with the Chinaman in one of the Sydney slums. I telegraphed at once to Sydney, and got a reply. that there was no person of the name of Sal Rollins known to the Sydney Police, but they said

they would make inquiries and let me know the result. "'Ah! She has no doubt changed her name,' said Calton thoughtfully, stroking his chin. "'I wonder why.' "'Wanted to get rid of the Army, I expect,' answered Killsip dryly. The straying lamb did not care about being hunted back to the fold. "'And when did she join the Army?' "'The very day after the murder. "'Rather sudden conversion?'

"'Yes, but she said the death of the woman on Thursday. night had so startled her that she went straight off to the army to get her religion properly fixed up. The effects of fright, no doubt, said Calton dryly. I've met a good many examples of these sudden conversions, but they never last long as a rule. It's a case of the devil was sick. The devil a monk would be, more than anything else. Good-looking? So, so, I believe, replied Kilsip, shrugging his shoulders. Very ignorant, could neither read nor write. That accounts for her not asking for Fitzgerald when she called at the club. She probably didn't. did not know whom she had been sent for. It will resolve itself into a question of identification,

I expect. However, if the police can't find her, we will put an advertisement in the papers offering reward, and send out handbills to the same effect. She must be found. That accounts for her not asking for Fitzgerald when she called at the club. She probably did not know whom she had been sent for. It will resolve itself into a question of identification, I expect. However, if the police can't find her, we will put an advertisement in the papers offering reward, and send out handbills to the same effect. She must be found. Brian Fitzgerald's life hangs on a thread, and that thread is Sal Rawlins. Yes, assented Kilsip, rubbing his hands together. If Mr. Fitzgerald acknowledges that he was at mother guttersnipes on the night in question, she will have to prove that he was there,

as no one else saw him. Are you sure of that? As sure as anyone can be in such a case. It was a late hour when he came, and everyone seems to have been asleep, except the dying woman, and Sal, and as one is dead, the other is the only person that can prove he was there at the time when the murder was being committed in the handsome. And Mother Gutter-Snipe? Was drunk, as she acknowledged last night. She thought that if a gentleman did call it must have been the other one. The other one? Repleted Calton in a puzzled voice. What other one? Oliver White. Calton arose from his seat with a blank air of astonishment. Oliver White, he said as soon as he could find his voice. Was he in the habit of going there?

"'Kilsep curled himself up in his seat like a sleek cat, and pushing forward his head till his nose looked like the beak of a bird of prey looked keenly at Calton. "'Look here, sir,' he said in his low-purring voice, "'there's a good deal in this case which don't seem plain. "'In fact, the further we go into it, the more mixed up it seems to get. "'I went to see Mother Guttersnight this morning, and she told me that White had visited the Queen several times while she lay ill, "'and that he seemed to be pretty well acquainted with her. "'But who the deuce is this woman they call the queen?' said Calton, irritably. She seems to be at the bottom of the whole affair. Every path we take leads to her. "'I hardly know anything about her,' replied Kilsib, except that she was a good-looking woman of about

forty-nine. She come out from England to Sydney a few months ago, and then on here. How she got to mother guttersnipes, I can't find out, though I've tried to pump that old woman, but she's as close as wax, and it's my belief she knows more about this dead woman than she chooses to tell. But what could she have told Fitzgerald to make him act in this silly manner? A stranger who comes from England and dies in a Melbourne slum can't possibly know anything about Miss Freddleby. Not unless Miss Fredelby was secretly married to White, suggested Kilsip, and the Queen knew it. Nonsense, retorted Calton sharply. Why, she hated him, and loves Fitzgerald. Besides, why on earth should she marry secretly and make a confidon of a woman in the lowest

parts of Melbourne. At one time her father wanted her to marry White, but she made such a strong opposition that he eventually gave his consent to her engagement with Fitzgerald. And White? Oh, he had a row with Mr. Fredelby and left the house in a rage. He was murdered the same night, for the sake of some papers he carried. Oh, that's Gorby's idea, said Killsip scornfully with a vicious snarl. And it's mine, too, answered Calton firmly. White had some valuable papers which he always carried about with him. The woman who died evidently died evidently told Fitzgerald that he did so. I gathered as much from an accidental admission he made. Kilsip looked puzzled. I must confess that it is a riddle, he said at length. But if Mr. Fitzgerald

would only speak, it would clear everything up. Speak about what, the man who murdered White? Well, if he did not go quite so far as that, he might at least supply the motive for the crime. Perhaps so, answered Calton as the detective rose to go, but it's no use. Fitzgerald, for some reason or another has evidently made up his mind not to speak, so our only hope in saving him lies in finding this girl. If she's anywhere in Australia, you may be sure she'll be found,' answered Kilsip confidently, as he took his departure. Australia isn't so overcrowded as all that. But if Sal Rollins was in Australia at all, she certainly must have been in some very remote part. All efforts to find her proof futile. It was an open question if she was alive or dead.

She seemed to have vanished completely. She was last seen. in a Sydney den with a Chinaman whom afterwards she appears to have left. Since then, nothing whatever was known of her. Notices offering large rewards for her discovery were inserted in all the newspapers, Australian and New Zealand. But nothing came of them. As she was herself unable to read, there seemed little chance of her knowing of them, and if, as Calton surmised, she had changed her name,

no one would be likely to tell her of them. There was only the bare chance that she might hear of them casually, or that she might turn up of her own accord. If she returned to Melbourne, she would certainly go to her grandmothers. She had no motive for not doing so. So Killsip kept a sharp watch on the house, much to Mrs. Rollins' disgust. For, with true English pride, she objected to this system of espionage. Cussum! she croaked over her evening drink to an old crone, as withered and evil-looking

as herself. Why can't he stop in his own bloomin'-house and leave mine alone? a-comin'-round here a-poking and a-prying and a purwinting people from earning their living and a-getting-drunk when they ain't well. What do he want?' asked her friend, rubbing her weak old knees. "'Wants—he wants his throat cut,' said Mother Gutter-snight, viciously, "'and so help me I'll do it for him some night when he's a-watching round here as if it were Pentridge. He can get what he want out of that whelp has ran away, but I know something he don't know, cussum.' She ended with a senile laugh, and her companion, having taken advantage of the long speech to drink

some gin out of the broken cup, Mother Gutter-Snipe seized the unfortunate old creature by the hair, and in spite of her feeble cries, banged her head against the wall. "'I'll have the police in at you,' whimpered the assaulted one, as she tottered away quickly as her old rheumatics would allow her. See if I don't.' "'Get out,' retorted Mother Gutter-Snipe indifferently, as she filled herself a fresh cup. "'You come afalutin' round here again priggin my drinks, cuss you, and I'll cut your throat and wring your wicked old Ed off.' The other gave a howl of dismay at hearing this pleasant proposal, and tottered out as quickly as possible,

leaving Mother Guttersnipe in undisputed possession of the field. Meanwhile, Calton had seen Brian several times, and used every argument in his power to get him to tell everything, but he either maintained an obstinate silence or merely answered, It would only break her heart. He admitted to Calton, after a good deal of questioning, that he had been at Mother Guttersnipes on the night of the murder. After he had left white by the corner of the Scotch Church, as the cabman, Royston had stated, he had gone along Russell Street and met Sal Rollins near the Unicorn Hotel.

She had taken him to Mother Guttersnipes, where he had seen the dying woman, who had told him something he could not reveal. "'Well,' said Mr. Calton, after hearing the admission, "'you might have saved us all this trouble by admitting this before, and yet kept your secret, whatever it might be. Had you done so, we might have got hold of Sal Rollins before she left Melbourne, but now it's a mere chance whether she turns up or not. Brian did not answer this.

In fact, he seemed hardly to be thinking of what the lawyer was saying. But just as Calton was leaving, he asked, How is Madge? How can you expect her to be? said Calton, turning angrily on him. She is very ill, owing to the worry she has had over this affair. My darling, my darling, cried Brian in agony, clasping his hands above his head. I did it only to save you.

Calton approached him and laid his hand lightly on his shoulder. "'My dear fellow,' he said gravely, "'the confidences between lawyer and client "'are as sacred as those between priest and penitent. "'You must tell me this secret which concerns Miss Freddleby so deeply.' "'No,' said Brian firmly, "'I will never repeat what that wretched woman told me. "'When I would not tell you before in order to save my life,

"'it is not likely I am going to do so now, "'when I have nothing to gain and everything to lose by telling it.' "'I will never ask you again,' said Calton, rather annoyed, "'as he walked the door. "'And as to this accusation of murder, if I can find this girl, you are safe. When the lawyer left the jail, he went to the detective office to see Kilsip, and ascertain if there was any news of Sal Rollins, but as usual there was none.

It is fighting against fate, he said sadly as he went away. His life hangs on a mere chance. The trial was fixed to come off in September, and, of course, there was great excitement in Melbourne as the time drew near. Great, therefore, was the disappointment when it was discovered that the Prisoner's Council had applied for an adjournment of the trial till October, on the ground that an important witness for the defence could not be found end of chapter sixteen read by sabella denton for more free audio books or to volunteer please visit librivox dot org chapter seventeen of mystery of a handsome cab by fergus hume read for librovox dot org into the public domain the trial in spite of the utmost vigilance on the part of the police and the offer of a large reward both by calton on behalf of the accused and by mr fredelby

the much-desired Sal Rollins still remained hidden. The millionaire had maintained a most friendly attitude towards Brian throughout the whole affair. He refused to believe him guilty, and when Calton told him of the defense of proving an alibi by means of Sal Rollins, he immediately offered a large reward, which was in itself enough to set every person with any time on their hands hunting for the missing witness. All Australia and New Zealand rang with the extremely plebeian name of Sal Rollins, the papers being full of notices offering rewards, and handbills of staring red letters were posted up in all railway stations, in conjunction with liquid sunshine, rum, and DWD. Whiskey.

She had become famous without knowing it, unless, indeed, she had kept herself concealed purposefully, but this was hardly probable, as there was no apparent motive for her doing so. If she was above ground, she must certainly have seen the handbills, if not the papers, and though not able to read, she could hardly help hearing something about, the one topic of conversation throughout Australia. Notwithstanding all this, Sal Rollins was still undiscovered, and Calton, in despair, began to think that she must be dead. But Madge, though at times her courage gave way, was still hopeful. God will not permit such a judicial crime as the murder of an innocent man to be committed, she declared. Mr. Calton, to whom she said this, shook his head doubtfully.

God has permitted it to take place before, he answered softly, and we can only judge the future by the past. At last the day of the long-expected trial came, and as Calton sat in his office looking over his brief, a clerk entered and told him Mr. Fredelby and his daughter wished to see him. When they came in, the barrister saw that the millionaire looked haggard and ill, and there was a worried expression on his face. "'There is my daughter, Calton,' he said, after hurried greetings had been exchanged. She wants to be present in court during Fitzgerald's trial, and nothing I can say will dissuade her.

Calton turned and looked at the girl in some surprise. Yes, she answered, meeting his look steadily, though her face was very pale. I must be there. I shall go mad with anxiety unless I know how the trial goes on. But think of the disagreeable amount of attention you will attract, urged the lawyer. No one will recognize me, she said calmly. I am very plainly dressed, and I will wear this veil. And drawing one from her pocket, she went to a small looking-glass which was hanging on the wall, and tied it over her face.

Calton looked in perplexity at Mr. Fredelby. I'm afraid you must consent, he said. Very well, replied the other, almost sternly, while a look of annoyance passed over his face. I shall leave her in your charge. And you? I'm not coming, answered Fredelby quickly, putting on his hat. I don't care about seeing a man whom I've had at my dinner-table in the prisoner's dock, much as I sympathize with him.

Good day. And with a curt nod he took his leave. When the door closed on her father, Madge placed her hand on Calton's arm. "'Any hope?' she whispered, looking at him through the black veil. "'The merest chance,' answered Calton, putting his brief into his bag. "'We have done everything in our power to discover this girl, but without result. If she does not come at the eleventh hour, I'm afraid Brian Fitzgerald is a doomed man.' Madge fell on her knees with a stifled cry.

"'Oh, God of mercy!' she cried, raising her hands as if in prayer. "'Save him! Save my darling, and let him not die for the crime of another. God! She dropped her face in her hands and wept convulsively as the lawyer touched her lightly on the shoulder. Come, he said kindly, Be the brave girl you were and we may save him yet. The hour is darkest before the dawn, you know. Madge dried her tears and followed the lawyer to the cab,

which was waiting for them at the door. They drove quickly up to the court, and Calton put her in a quiet place, where she could see the dock and yet be unobserved by the people in the body of the court. Just as he was leaving her, she took. touched his arm. Tell him, she whispered in a trembling voice, Tell him I'm here. Calton nodded and hurried away to put on his wig and gown, while Madge looked hurriedly round the court from her point of vantage. It was crowded with fashionable Melbourne of both sexes, and they were all talking together

in subdued whispers. The popular character of the prisoner, his good looks and engagement to Madge Fredelby, together with the extraordinary circumstances of the case, had raised public curiosity to the highest pitch, and, constantly, consequently everybody who could possibly manage to gain admission was there felix rolliston had secured an excellent seat beside the pretty miss featherweight whom he admired so much and he was chattering to her with the utmost volubility puts me in mind of the coliseum and all that sort of thing you know he said putting up his eyeglass and staring around butchered to make a roman holiday by jove don't say such horrid things you frivolous creature simpered miss featherweight using her smelling bottle we are all here out of sympathy for that poor dear Mr. Fitzgerald. The Mercurial Felix, who had more cleverness in him than people gave him credit for, smiled outright at this eminently feminine way of covering and overpowering curiosity. "'Ah, yes,' he said lightly. Exactly. I dare say Eve only ate the apple because she didn't like to see such a lot of good fruit go to waste. Miss Featherweight eyed him doubtfully. She

was not quite certain whether he was in jest or earnest. Just as she was about to reply to the effect that she thought it wicked to make the Bible a subject for joking, the judge entered and the court rose when the prisoner was brought in there was a great flutter among the ladies and some of them even had the bad taste to produce opera-glasses brian noticed this and he flushed up to the roots of his fair hair for he felt his degradation acutely he was an intensely proud man and to be placed in the criminal dock with a lot of frivolous people who had called themselves his friends looking at him as though he were a new actor or a wild animal was galling in the extreme he was dressed in black and looked pale and worn but all the ladies declared that he was as good-looking as ever and they were sure he was innocent the jury were sworn in and the crown prosecutor rose to deliver his opening address most of those present knew the facts only through the medium of the newspapers and such floating rumors as they had been able to gather they were therefore unaware of the true history of events which had led to fitzgerald's arrest and they prepared to listen to the speech with profound attention the ladies ceased to talk the men to stare round and nothing could be seen but row after row of eager and attentive faces hanging on the words that issued from the lips of the crown prosecutor he was not a great orator but he spoke clearly and distinctly and every word could be heard in the dead silence He gave a rapid sketch of the crime, merely a repetition of what had been published in the newspapers,

and then proceeded to enumerate the witnesses for the prosecution. He would call the landlady of the deceased to show that ill-feeling existed between the prisoner and the murdered man, and that the accused had called on the deceased a week prior to the committal of the crime, and threatened his life. There was great excitement at this, and several ladies decided, on the spur of the moment, that the horrid man was guilty, but the majority of them still refused to believe in the guilt of such a good-looking young fellow. He would call a witness who could prove that White was drunk on the night of the murder, and went along to Russell Street, in the direction of Collins Street. The

cabman Royston would swear to the fact that the prisoner had hailed the cab, and after going away for a short time, returned and entered the cab with the deceased. He would also prove that the prisoner left the cab at the grammar school in the St. Kilda Road, and on the arrival of the cab at the junction he discovered the deceased had been murdered. The cabman Rankin would prove that he drove the prisoner from the sink killed a road to Powlett Street in East Melbourne, where he got out, and he would call the prisoner's landlady to prove that the prisoner resided in Powlett Street, and that on the night of the murder he had not reached home till shortly after two o'clock. He would also call the detective who had charge of the case

to prove the finding of a glove belonging to the deceased in the pocket of the coat, which the prisoner wore on the night of the murder, and the doctor who had examined the body of the deceased would give evidence that the death was caused by inhalation of chloroform. As he He had now fully shown the chain of evidence which he proposed to prove he would call the first witness Malcolm Royston. Royston, on being sworn, gave the same evidence as he had given at the inquest, from the time that the cab was hailed, up to his arrival at the St. Kilda Police Station with the dead body of white. In the cross-examination, Calton asked him if he was prepared to swear that the man who hailed the cab, and the man who got in with the deceased, were one and the same person. Witness, I am. Calton, you are quite certain?

"'Witness?' "'Yes, quite certain. "'Do you then recognize the prisoner as the man who hailed the cab?' "'Witness, hesitatingly. "'I cannot swear to that. "'The gentleman who hailed the cab had his hat pulled down over his eyes, "'so that I could not see his face, "'but the hide and general appearance of the prisoner are the same.

"'Then it is only because the man who got into the cab "'was dressed like the prisoner on that night, "'that you thought they were both the same?' "'Witness. "'It never struck me for a minute that they were not the same. "'Besides, he spoke as if he had been there before, I said, oh, you've come back, and he said, yes, I'm going to take him home, and got into my cab. Calton.

Did you notice any difference in his voice? Witness. No, except the first time I saw him he spoke in a loud voice, and the second time he came back, very low. Calton. You were sober, I suppose? Witness, indignantly. Yes, quite sober. Calton.

Ah, you did not have a drink, say, at the Oriental Hotel, which I believe is near the rank where your cab stands? Witness, hesitatingly. "'Well, I might have had a glass.' "'Calton. So you might—you might have had several.' "'Witness, sulkly. "'Well, there's no law against a cove feeling thirsty.' "'Calton. Certainly not, and I suppose you took advantage of the absence of such a law.' "'Witness, defiantly. Yes, I did.'

"'Calton. And you were elevated? Witness. Yes, on my cab.' "'Lafter.' "'Calton severely. You are here to give evidence, sir, not to make jokes, however clever they may be. Were you or were you not slightly the worse for drink? Witness. I might have been. Calton. So you were in such a condition that you did not observe very closely the man who hailed you?

Witness. No, I didn't. There was no reason why I should. I didn't know a murder was going to be committed. Calton. And it never struck you. It might be a different man. Witness.

No, I thought it was the same man the whole time. This closed Royston's evidence, and Calton sat down very dissatisfied, and not being able to elicit anything. more definite from him. One thing appeared clear that someone must have dressed himself to resemble Brian, and have spoken in a low voice for fear of betraying himself. Clement Rankin, the next witness, deposed to having picked up the prisoner on the St. Kilda Road between one and two Friday morning, and driven him to Pallet Street, East Melbourne. In the cross-examination, Calton elicited one point in the prisoner's favor. Calton, is the prisoner the same gentleman you drove to

Pallet Street? Witness, confidently. Oh, yes. Calton. How do you know? Did you see his face? Witness. No, his hat was pulled down over his eyes, and I could only see the ends of his mustache on his chin, but he carried himself the same as the prisoner, and his mustache is the same light color. Calton. When you drove up to him on the St. Kilda Road, where was he, and what was he doing? Witness. He was near the grammar school, walking quickly in the direction of Melbourne, and was smoking a cigarette. Calton. Did he wear gloves? witness yes one on the left hand the other was bare calton did he wear any rings on the right hand witness yes a large diamond one on the forefinger calton are you sure witness yes because i thought it a curious place for a gentleman to wear a ring and when he was paying me my fare i saw the diamond glitter on his finger in the moonlight calton that will do

the counsel for the defence was pleased with this bit of evidence as fitzgerald detested rings and never wore any so he made a note of the matter on his brief. Mrs. Hableton, the landlady of the deceased, was then called, and deposed that Oliver White had lodged with her for nearly two months. He seemed a quiet enough young man, but often came home drunk. The only friend she knew he had was a Mr. Morland, who was often with him. On the 14th of July the prisoner had called to see Mr. White, and they had had a quarrel. She heard White say, She is mine, you can't do anything with her, and the prisoner answered, I can kill you, and if you marry her I shall do so in the open street. she had no idea at the time of the name of the lady they were talking about there was a great sensation in the court at these words and half the people present looked upon such evidence as being sufficient in itself to prove the guilt of the prisoner

in cross-examination calton was unable to shake the evidence of the witness as she merely reiterated the same statements over and over again the next witness was mrs sampson who crackled into the witness-box dissolved in tears and gave her answers in a piercingly shrill tone of anguish. She stated that the prisoner was in the habit of coming home early, but on the night of the murder had come in shortly before two o'clock. Crown Prosecutor, referring to his brief. You mean after two? Witness. Evan made a mistake once, by saying five minutes after two to the policeman as called himself an insurance agent, which he put the words in my mouth, I ain't going to do so again, it being five minutes afore to, as I can swear to. Crown Prosecutor, you are sure your clock was right? Witness, it hadn't been, but—

but me Nevy being a watchmaker called, unbeknown to me, and made it right on Thursday night, which it was Friday morning when Mr. Fitzgerald came home. Mrs. Sampson bravely stuck to this statement, and ultimately left the witness-box in triumph, the rest of her evidence being comparatively unimportant as compared with this point of time. The witness Rankin, who drove the prisoner to Pallet Street, as sworn to by him, was recalled, and gave evidence that it was two o'clock when the prisoner got down from his cab in Pallet Street. Crown Prosecutor. How do you know that?

Witness, because I heard the post-office clock strike. Crown Prosecutor. Could you hear it at East Melbourne? Witness. It was a very still night, and I heard the chimes, and then the hour strike quite plainly. This conflicting evidence as to time was a strong point in Brian's favor. If, as the landlady stated, on the authority of the kitchen clock, which had been put right on the day previous to the murder,

Fitzgerald had come into the house at five minutes to two, he could not possibly be the man who had alighted from Rankin's cab at two o'clock at Powlett's Street. The next witness was Dr. Chinston, who swore to the death of the deceased man by means of chloroform administered in a large quantity, and he was followed by Mr. Gorby, who deposed as to the finding of the glove belonging to the deceased in the pocket of the prisoner's coat. Roger Morland, an intimate friend of the deceased, was called next. He stated that he had known the deceased in London, and had met him in Melbourne. He was with him a great deal. On the night of the murder he was in the Orient Hotel in Bork Street.

came in and was greatly excited. He was an evening dress and wore a light coat. They had several drinks together, and then went up to an hotel in Russell Street, and had some more drinks there. Both Witness and deceased were intoxicated. White took off his light coat, saying he felt warm, and went out shortly afterwards, leaving Witnesses sleep at the bar. He was awakened by the barman, who wanted him to leave the hotel. He saw that White had left his coat behind him, and took it up with the intention of giving it to him. As he stood in the street, someone snatched the coat from him and made off with it. He tried to follow the thief, but he could not do so, being too intoxicated. He then went home and to bed, as he had to leave early for the country in the morning.

In cross-examination, Calton, when you went into the street after leaving the hotel, did you see the deceased? Witnessed. No, I did not, but I was very drunk, and unless deceased had spoken to me, I would not have noticed him. Calton, what was the deceased excited about when you met him? Witness. I don't know. He did not say. Calton. What were you talking about? Witness. All sorts of things. London, principally. Calton. Did the deceased mention anything about papers? Witness, surprised. No, he did not. Calton. Are you sure? Witness, quite sure. Calton. What time did you get home? Witness. I don't know. I was too drunk to remember. This closed the case for the Crown, and as it was now late, the case was

adjourned till the next day. The court was soon emptied of the busy, chattering. crowd, and Calton, on looking over his notes, found that the result of the first day's trial was two points in favor of Fitzgerald. First, the discrepancy of time in the evidence of Rankin and the landlady, Mrs. Samson. Second, the evidence of the cabman Royston as to the wearing of a ring on the forefinger of the right hand by the man who murdered White, whereas the prisoner never wore rings. These were slender proofs of innocence to put against the overwhelming mass of evidence in favor of the prisoner's guilt.

The opinions of all were pretty well divided, some being in favor and others against, when suddenly an event happened which surprised everyone. All over Melbourne extras were posted, and the news passed from lip to lip like wildfire. Return of the missing witness, Sal Rawlins! End of Chapter 17, read by Sabella Denton. For more free audiobooks or to volunteer, please visit Librevox.org. Chapter 18 of Mystery of a Handsome Cab by Fergus Hume. read for Librevox.org into the public domain. Sal Rollins tells all she knows.

And indeed such was the case. Sal Rollins had made her appearance at the eleventh hour, to the heartfelt thankfulness of Calton, who saw in her an angel from heaven, sent to save the life of an innocent man. It was at the conclusion of the trial, and together with Madge he had gone down to his office, when his clerk entered with a telegram.

The lawyer opened it hastily, and with a silent look of pleasure on his face, handed the telegram to Madge. She, woman-like, being more impulsive, gave a cry when she read it, and falling on her knees, thanked God for having heard her prayers, and saved her lover's life. "'Take me to her at once,' she implored the lawyer. She was anxious to hear from Sal Rollins' own lips the joyful words which would save Brian from a felon's death. "'No, my dear,' answered Calton firmly but kindly, "'I can hardly take a lady to the place where Sal Rollins lives. You will know all to-morrow,

but meanwhile you must go home and get some sleep. And will you tell him, she whispered, clasping her hands on Calton's arm? At once, he answered promptly, and I will see Sal Rollins to-night and hear what she has to say. Rest content, my dear, he added as he placed her in the carriage. He is perfectly safe now. Brian heard the good news with a deep feeling of gratitude, knowing that his life was safe and that he could still keep his secret. It was the natural revulsion of feeling after the unnatural life he had been leading since his arrest.

when one is young and healthy and has all the world before one it is a terrible thing to contemplate a sudden death and yet in spite of his joy it being delivered from the hangman's rope there mingled with his delight the horror of that secret which the dying woman had told him with such malignant joy i had rather she died in silence than she should have bequeathed to me this legacy of sorrow and the jailers seeing his haggard face the next morning muttered to himself he were blessed if the swell weren't sorry he were safe so while brian was pacing up and down his cell during the weary watches of the night madge in her own room was kneeling beside her bed and thanking god for his great mercy and calton the good fairy of the two lovers was hurrying towards the humble abode of mrs rawlins familiarly known as mother guttersnip kilsip was beside him and they were talking eagerly about the providential appearance of the invaluable witness what i like observed kilsip in his soft purring tone is the cell it will be for that gorby he was so certain that that Mr. Fitzgerald was the man, and when he gets off tomorrow, Gorby will be in a rage. Where were Sal the whole time? asked Calton absently, not thinking of what the detective was saying. Ill, answered Calcet. After she left the Chinaman, she went into the country, caught cold by falling into some river, and ended up by getting brain fever. Some people found her, took her in,

and nursed her. When she got well, she came back to her grandmother's. But why didn't the people who nursed her tell her she was wanted? They must have seen the papers. Not they, retorted the detective. They knew nothing. Vegetables, muttered Calton, contemptuously. How can people be so ignorant? Why all Australia has been ringing with the case? At any rate, it's money out of their pocket. Well, there's nothing more to tell, said Kilsip, except that she turned up to-night at five o'clock, looking more like a corpse than anything else. When they entered the squalid, dingy passage that led to Mother Gutter-Snipe's abode,

they saw a faint light streaming down the stair. As they climbed up, they could hear the rancorous voice of the old hag pouring forth alternate blessings and curses on her prodigal offspring, and the low tones of a girl's voice in reply. On entering the room, Calton saw that the sick woman, who had been lying in the corner on the occasion of his last visit, was gone. Mother Guttersnipe was seated in front of the deal-table, with a broken cup and her favorite bottle of spirits before her. She evidently intended to have a night of it, in order to celebrate Sal's return, and had commenced early, so as to lose no time. Sal herself was seated. Sal herself was seated on a broken chair and leaned wearily against the wall. She stood up as Calton and the detective

entered, and they saw that she was a tall, slender woman of about twenty-five, not bad looking, but with a pallid and haggard appearance from recent illness. She was clothed in a kind of tawdly blue dress, much soiled and torn, and had over her shoulders an old tartan shawl, which she drew tightly across her breast as the strangers entered. Her grandmother, who looked more weird and grotesquely horrible than ever, saluted Calton and the detective on their entrance, and she drew with a shrill yell and a volley of choice language oh ye've come again abye she screeched raising her skinny arms to take my gal away from her poor old grandmother as nursed her cusser when her own mother had gone a gallivant with swells i'll have the lore of both of you so help me i will kilsit paid no attention to this outbreak of the old fury but turned to the girl this is the gentleman who wants to speak to you he said gently making the girl sit on the chair again for indeed she looked too ill to stand just tell him what you told me about the queen sir said sal in a low hoarse voice fixing her wild eyes on calton if i'd only known you was wanting me i'd come afore where were you asked calton in a pitying tone new south wales answered the girl with a shiver the cove as i went with a

to Sidney left me. Yes, left me to die like a dog in the gutter. Cuss him, croaked the old woman in a sympathetic manner, as she took a drink from the broken cup. I took up with a Chinaman, went on her granddaughter wearily, and lived with him for a bit. It's awful, ain't it? She said with a dreary laugh, as she saw the disgust on the lawyer's face. But Chinaman ain't bad. They treat a poor girl a dash sight better, nor a white cove does. They don't beat the life out of them with their fists nor drag them about on the floor by the air. Cuss'em, croaked mother-gutter-snaped drowsily. I'll tear their arts out. I think I must have gone mad, I must, said Sal, pushing her tangled hair off her forehead.

For outer I left the china cove, I went on walking and walking right into the bush, a trying to cool my head, for it fell on fire-like. I went into a river and got wet, and then I took my hat and boots off and lay down on the grass, and then the rain come on, and I walked to a house as was near, where they took me in. Oh, such kind people, she sobbed, stretching out her hands, that didn't badger me about my soul, but gave me good food to eat. I gave him a wrong name. I was so afraid of that army of finding me. Then I got ill, and knowed nothing for weeks. They said I was off my chump. And then I came back here to see Gran. Cuss you, said the old woman, but in such tender tones that it sounded like

a blessing. And did the people who took you in never tell you anything about the murder? Sal shook her head. No, it were a long way in the country, and they never know. They didn't. Ah, that explains it, muttered Calton to himself. Come now, he said cheerfully. Tell me all that happened on the night you brought Mr. Fitzgerald to see the queen. Who's he? asked Sal, puzzled. Mr. Fitzgerald, the gentleman you brought the letter for to the Melbourne Club.

Oh, M! said Sal, a sudden light breaking over a wan face. I never knowed his name before. Calton nodded complacently. I knew you didn't, he said. That's why you didn't ask for him at the club. She never told me his name. said Sal, jerking her head in the direction of the bed. Then whom did she ask you to bring to her? asked Calton eagerly.

No one, replied the girl. This was the way of it. On that night she was awful ill, and I sat beside her while Grand was asleep. I was drunk, broke in Grand, fiercely. None of your lies. I was blazing drunk. And she says to me, she says, went on the girl, indifferent to her grandmother's interruption. Get me some paper and pencil, and I'll write a note to him, I will. So I goes and gets her what she asks for out of Grand's box. "'Stol it, cuss you!' shrieked the old hag, shaking her fists. "'Hold your tongue,' said Killsip in a peremptory tone. Mother Guttersnight burst into a volley of oaths, and having run rapidly through all she knew,

subsided into a sulky silence. "'She rode on it,' went on Sal, and then asked me to take it to the Melbourne Club and give it to him, says I. "'Ozim,' says she, "'it's on the letter. Don't you ask no questions, and you won't ear no lives. But give him to him at the club and wait for him at the corner of Bork and Russell Street.' So I goes, and gives it to a cove at the club. and then he comes along and says he,

"'Take me to her,' and I took him. "'And what like was the gentleman?' "'Oh, very good-looking,' said Sal. "'Wary tall, with y'other hair and mustache. "'He had party clothes on, and a masher coat, and a soft hat.' "'That's Fitzgerald right enough,' murdered Calton. "'And what did he do when he came?' "'He goes right up to her, and she says,

"'Are you E?' and he says, "'I am.' "'Then she says she, do you know what I'm going to tell you?' "'And he says he, "'it's about her,' and says he, looking very white. How dare you have her name on your vile lips? And she gets up and screeches. Turn that gal out, and I'll tell you, and he takes me by the arm and says he, "'Eer, get out, and I gets out, and that's all I knows.' "'And how long was he with her?' asked Calton, who had been listening attentively.

"'About half an hour,' answered Sal. I takes him back to Russell Street about twenty-five minutes to two, because I looked at the clock on the post-office, and he gives me a sob, and then he goes at tearing up the street like anything. "'Take him about twenty minutes to walk to East Melbourne,' said Calton to himself, so he must have got in at the time Mrs. Sampson said. "'He was in with the Queen the whole time, I suppose,' he asked, looking keenly at Sal.

"'I was at that door,' said Sal pointing to it, and he couldn't have got out unless I'd seen him. "'Oh, it's all right,' said Calton, nodding to Kilsip. There won't be any difficulty in proving an alibi. "'But I say,' he said turning to Sal, "'what were they talking about?' "'I don't know,' answered Sal. I was at the door, and they talks that quiet. I couldn't hear him. Then he sings out, My God, it's too horrible. And I hear her laugh and like to bust, and then he comes to me and says,

Quite wild-like, take me out of this hell, and I took them. And when you came back, she was dead. Dead, as a blessed door-nail, said Sal, cheerfully. And I never knowed I was in the room with a corpse, whaled mother guttersnipe, waking up. Cusser, she was always a-doing-contrary things. How do you know, said Calton sharply, as he rose to go. "'I knowed her longer, nor you,' croaked the old woman, "'fixing one evil eye on the lawyer, and I know what you'd like to know, "'but you shan't, you shan't!' Calton turned from her with a shrug of his shoulders.

"'You will come to the court to-morrow with Mr. Kilsip,' he said to Sal, "'and tell what you have just now told me.' "'Sall truce, help me,' said Sal eagerly. "'E was here all the time.' Calton stepped towards the door, followed by the detective, when Mother Guttersnipe rose. "'Where's the money for fining her?' she screeched, pointing one skinny finger at Sal.

"'Well, considering the girl found herself,' said Calton dryly, "'the money is in the bank, and we'll remain there.' "'And I'm to be done out of my hard-earned tins, so help me?' "'Howled the old fury. Cush you. I'll have the law of you and get you put in quad.' "'You'll go there yourself if you don't take care,' said Kilsip in his soft purring tones. "'Yeah,' shrieked Mother Gutters-knipes, snapping her fingers at him, "'what do I care about your quad? Ain't I been in Pentrig, and it ain't erred me as it. I'm as lively as a gal, I am. And the old fury, to prove the truth of her words, danced a kind

of war dance in front of Mr. Calton, snapping her fingers and yelling out curses as an accompaniment to her ballet. Her luxurious white hair streamed out during her gyrations, and with her grotesque appearance in the faint light of the candle, she presented a gruesome spectacle. Calton remembered the tales he had heard of the women of Paris at the Revolution, and the way they danced La Carmaneol. Mother Gutter-Snipe would have been in her element in that sea of blood and turbulence, he thought. But he merely shrugged his shoulders and walked out of the room, as with a final curse, delivered in a hoarse voice, Mother Gutter-Snipe sank exhausted on the floor, and yelled for gin. End of Chapter 18, read by Sabella Denton.

For more free audiobooks or to volunteer, please visit Librevox.org. Chapter 19 of Mystery of a Handsome Cab by Fergus Hume. read for Libravox.org into the public domain. The verdict of the jury. Next morning the court was crowded, and numbers were unable to gain admission. The news that Sal Rawlins, who alone could prove the innocence of the prisoner, had been found, and would appear in court that morning, had spread like wildfire, and the acquittal of the prisoner was confidently expected by a large number of

sympathizing friends, who seemed to have sprung up on all sides like mushrooms in a single night. There were, of course, plenty of cautious people left, who waited to hear the verdict of the jury before committing themselves, and who still believed him to be guilty. But the unexpected appearance of Sal Rawlins had turned the great tide of public feeling in favor of the prisoner, and many who had been loudest in their denunciations of Fitzgerald, were now more than half convinced of his innocence. Pious clergyman talked in an incoherent way about the finger of God and the innocent not suffering unjustly, which was a case of counting unhatched chickens,

as the verdict had yet to be given felix rolliston awoke and found himself famous in a small way out of good-natured sympathy and despise of contrariness he had declared his belief in brian's innocence and now to his astonishment he found that his view of the matter was likely to prove correct he received so much praise on all sides for his presumed perspicuity that he soon began to think that he had believed in fitzgerald's innocence by a calm course of reasoning and not because of a desire to differ from every one else in their opinion of the case After all, Felix Rolliston is not the only man who has been astonished to find greatness thrust upon him, and come to believe himself worthy of it. He was a wise man, however, and while in the full tide of prosperity he seized the flying moment, and proposed to Miss Featherweight, who, after some hesitation, agreed to endow him with herself and her thousands. She decided that her future husband was a man of no common intellect, seeing that he had long ago arrived at a conclusion which the rest of Melbourne were only beginning to discover now.

So she determined that, as soon as she assumed marital authority, Felix, like Streffen in Elath, should go into Parliament, and with her money in his brains she might someday be the wife of a premier. Mr. Walliston had no idea of the political honors which his future spouse intended for him, and was seated in his old place in the court, talking about the case. "'Knew he was innocent, don't you know,' he said, with a complacent smile. Fitzgerald's too jolly-looking a fellow, and all that sort of thing, to commit murder. Whereupon a clergyman, happening to overhear the lively Felix make this flippant remark,

disagreed with it entirely, and preached a sermon to prove that good looks and crime were closely connected, and that both Judas Iskharit and Nero were beauty-men. "'Ah,' said Calton, when he heard the sermon, "'if this unique theory is a true one, what a pious man that clergyman must be!' This allusion to the looks of the Reverend gentleman was rather unkind, for he was by no means bad-looking. But then Calton was one of those witty men who would rather lose a friend than suppress an epigram. When the prisoner was brought in, a murmur of sympathy ran through the crowded court, so ill and worn out he looked, but Calton was puzzled to account for the expression of his face,

so indifferent from that of a man whose life had been saved, or rather was about to be saved, for in truth it was a foregone conclusion. You know who stole those papers, he thought, as he looked at Fitzgerald keenly, and the man who did, so as the murderer of White. The judge having entered and the court being opened, Calton rose to make his speech, and stated in a few words the line of defense he intended to take. He would first call Albert Dendee, a watchmaker, to prove that on Thursday night at eight o'clock in the evening, he had called at the prisoner's lodgings while the landlady was out, and while there had put the kitchen clock right and had regulated the same. He would also call Felix Rawliston, a friend of the

prisoners to prove that the prisoner was not in the habit of wearing rings, and frequently expressed his detestation of such a custom. Sebastian Brown, a waiter at the Melbourne Club, would be called to prove that on Thursday night a letter was delivered to the prisoner at the club by one Sarah Rollins, and that the prisoner left the club shortly before one o'clock on Friday morning. He would also call Sarah Rollins to prove that she had delivered a note to Sebastian Brown for the prisoner at the Melbourne Club at a quarter to twelve on Thursday night, and that at a few minutes past one o'clock on Friday morning she had conduct the prisoner to a slum off Little Bork Street, and that he was there between one and two on Friday morning, the hour at which the murder was alleged to have taken

place. This being his defense to the charge being brought against the prisoner, he would call Albert Dendee. Albert Dendy, duly sworn, stated, I am a watchmaker, and carry on business in Fitzroy. I remember Thursday the 26th of July last. On the evening, Evening of that day I called at Powlett Street, East Melbourne, to see my aunt, who was the landlady of the prisoner. She was out at the time I called, and I waited in the kitchen till her return. I looked at the kitchen clock to see if it was too late to wait, and then at my watch. I found that the clock was ten minutes fast, upon which I put it right, and regulated it properly. Calton, at what time did you put it right?

Witness, about eight o'clock. Calton, between that time and two in the morning, was it possible for the clock to gain ten minutes? "'Witness. No, it was not possible. Calton, would it gain it all?' "'Witness. Not between eight and two o'clock. The time was not long enough.' "'Calton. Did you see your aunt that night?' "'Witness. Yes, I waited till she came in.' "'Calton. And did you tell her you had put the clock right?' "'Witness. No, I did not. I forgot all about it.'

"'Calton. Then she was still under the impression that it was ten minutes fast?' "'Witness. Yes, I suppose so.' After Dendie had been cross-examined, Felix Ralliston was called and deposed as follows. I am an intimate friend of the prisoner. I've known him for five or six years, and never saw him wearing a ring during that time. He has frequently told me that he did not care for rings, and would never wear them. In cross-examination. Crown Prosecutor. You have never seen the prisoner wearing a diamond ring? Witness. No, never, Crown Prosecutor. Have you ever seen any such ring in his possession? Witness. No, I've seen him buying rings for ladies,

but I never saw him with any rings such as a gentleman would wear. Crown Prosecutor. Not even a seal ring? Witness. No, not even a seal ring. Sarah Rollins was then placed in the witness box, and after having been sworn, deposed, I know the prisoner. I know the prisoner. I delivered a letter addressed to him at the Melbourne Club at a quarter to twelve o'clock on Thursday the 26th of July. I did not know what his name was. He met me shortly after one at the corner of Russell and Bork Streets, where I had been told to wait for him. I took him to my grandmother's place in a lane off Little Bork Street. There was a dying woman there who had sent for him.

He went in and saw her for about twenty minutes, and then I took him back to the corner of Bork and Russell Streets. I heard the three-quarters-clock strike shortly after I left him. Crown Prosecutor. You're quite certain that the prisoner was the man you met on that night? Witness. Quite certain, so help me God. Crown Prosecutor.

And he met you a few minutes past one o'clock? Witness. Yes, about five minutes. I heard the clock a strike in one just before he came down the street, and when I leaves him again it were about twenty-five to two, because it took me ten minutes to get home, and I heard the clock go three-quarters, just as I gets to the door. Crown Prosecutor. How do you know it was exactly twenty-five to two when you left him?

Witness. Because I saw the clock. I left him in the corner of Russell Street, and comes down Bork Street, and I could see the post-office clock as plain as day. And when I gets into Swanson Street, I looks at the town all promiscuous life. and seized the same time there. Crown Prosecutor. And you never lost sight of the prisoner the whole time?

Witness. No, there was only one door by the room, and I was a sitting outside it, and when he comes out he falls over me. Crown Prosecutor. Were you asleep? Witness. Not a blessed wink. Calton then directed Sebastian Brown to be called.

He deposed. I know the prisoner. He is a member of the Melbourne Club, at which I am a waiter. I remember Thursday the 26th of July. on that night the last witness came with a letter to the prisoner. It was about a quarter to twelve. She just gave it to me and went away. I delivered it to Mr. Fitzgerald. He left the club at about ten minutes to one. This closed the evidence for the defense, and after the Crown prosecutor had made his speech, in which he pointed out the strong evidence against the prisoner,

Calton arose to address the jury. He was a fine speaker and made a splendid defense. Not a single point escaped him, and that brilliant piece of oratory is still remembered and spoken of admiringly in the perluse of Temple Court and Chancery Lane. He began by given a vivid description of the circumstances of the murder, of the meeting of the murderer and his victim in Collins Street East, the cab driving down to St. Kilda, the getting out of the cab of the murderer after committing the crime, and the way in which he had secured himself against pursuit. Having thus enchained the attention of the jury by the graphic manner in which he described the crime, he pointed out that the evidence brought forward by the prosecution,

was purely circumstantial, and that they had utterly failed to identify the prisoner in the dock with the man who had entered the cab. The supposition that the prisoner and the man in the light coat were one and the same person rested solely upon the evidence of the cabman, Royston, who, although not intoxicated, was, judging from his own statements, not in a fit state to distinguish between the man who hailed the cab and the man who got in. The crime was committed by means of chloroform. Therefore, if the prisoner was guilty, he must have purchased the chloroform in some shop, or obtained it from some friends. At all events, the prosecution had not brought forward a single piece of evidence to show how and where the chloroform had been obtained.

With regard to the glove belonging to the murdered man found in the prisoner's pocket, he picked it up off the ground at the time when he first met White, when the deceased was lying drunk near the Scotch Church. Certainly there was no evidence to show that the prisoner had picked it up before the deceased entered the cab, but on the other hand, there was no evidence to show that it had been picked up in the cab. It was a evidence to show that it had been picked up in the cap. It was far more likely that the glove, and especially a white glove, would be picked up under the light of a lamp near the Scotch Church, where it was easily noticeable, than in the darkness of a cab, where there was very little room, and where it would be quite dark, as the blinds

were drawn down. The cabman, Royston, swore positively that the man who got out of his cab on the st. Kilda Road wore a diamond ring on the forefinger of his right hand, and the cabman, Rankin swore to the same thing about the man who got out at Powlett Street. Against this could be place the evidence of one of the prisoner's most intimate friends, one who had seen him almost daily for the last five years, and he had sworn positively that the prisoner was not in the habit of wearing rings. The cabman Rankin had also sworn that the man who entered his cab on the St. Kilda Road alighted at Paulett Street, East Melbourne, at two o'clock on Friday morning, as he heard that hour strike from the post-office clock, whereas the evidence of the prisoner's landlady

showed plainly that he had entered the house five minutes previously, and her evidence was further supported by that of the watchmaker, Dendy. Mrs. Sampson saw the hand of the kitchen clock point to five minutes to two, and thinking it was ten minutes slow, told the detective that the prisoner did not enter the house till five minutes past two, which would just give the man who alighted from the cab, presuming him to have been the prisoner, sufficient time to walk up to his lodgings. The evidence of the watchmaker, Dendee, however, showed clearly that he had put the clock right at the hour of eight on Thursday night, that it was impossible for it to gain ten minutes

before two on Friday morning, and therefore the time, five minutes to two, seen by the landlady, was the correct one, and the prisoner was in the house five minutes before the other man alighted from the cab in Paulett Street. These points in themselves were sufficient to show that the prisoner was innocent, but the evidence of the woman Rollins must prove conclusively to the jury that the prisoner was not the man who committed the crime. The witness Brown had proved that the woman Rollins had delivered a letter to him, which he gave to the prisoner, and that the prisoner left the club to keep the appointments spoken of in the letter, which letter, or rather the remains of it, had been put in evidence. The woman Rollins swore that the prisoner met her at

the corner of Russell and Bork Streets, and had gone with her to one of the back slums, there to see the writer of the letter. She also proved that at the time of the committal of the crime the prisoner was still in the back slum, by the bed of the dying woman, and, there being only one door to the room, he could not possibly have left without the witness seeing him. The woman, Rollins, further proved that she left the prisoner at the corner of Bork and Russell streets at twenty-five minutes to two o'clock, which was five minutes before Royston drove his cab up to the St. Kilda Police Station, with the dead body inside. Finally, the woman Rollins proved her words by stating that she saw both the post-office and

town hall clocks, and supposing the prisoner started from the corner of Bork and Russell streets, as she says he did, he would reach East Melbourne in twenty minutes. which made it five minutes to two on Friday morning, the time at which, according to the landlady's statement, he entered the house. All the evidence given by the different witnesses agreed completely, and formed a chain which showed the whole of the prisoner's movements at the time of the committal of the murder. Therefore, it was absolutely impossible that the murder could have been committed by the man in the dock. The strongest piece of evidence brought forward by the prosecution was that of the witness, Hableton, who swore that the prisoner used threats against the life of the deceased. But the language used was merely the outcome of a passionate Irish nature, and was not sufficient to prove the crime to have been committed by the prisoner.

The defense which the prisoner set up was that of an alibi, and the evidence of the witnesses for the defense proved conclusively that the prisoner could not and did not commit the murder. Finally, Calton wound up his elaborate and exhaustive speech, which lasted for over two hours, by a brilliant peroration, calling upon the jury to base their verdict upon the plain facts of the case, and if they did so they could hardly fail in bringing in a verdict of not guilty. When Calton sat down, a subdued murmur of applause was heard, which was instantly suppressed, and the judge began to sum up, strongly in favor of Fitzgerald.

The jury then retired, and immediately there was a dead silence in the crowded court, an unnatural silence, such as must have fallen on the blood-loving Roman populace when they saw the Christian martyrs kneeling on the hot yellow sands of the arena, and watched the long, lithe forms of the lion and panther creeping steadily towards their prey. The hour being late the gas had been lighted, and there was a sickly glare through the wide hall. Fitzgerald had been taken out of court on the retiring of the jury, but the spectators stared steadily at the empty dock, which seemed to enchain them by some indescribable fascination. They conversed among themselves only in whispers, until even the

whispering ceased, and nothing could be heard but the steady ticking of the clock, and now and then the quick-drawn breath of some timid onlooker. Suddenly, a woman, whose nerves were overstrung, shrieked, and the cry rang weirdly through the crowded hall. She was taken out, and again there was silence, every eye being fixed on the door through which the jury would reissue with their verdict of life or death. The hands of the clock moved slowly round, a quarter, a half, three-quarters, and then the hours sounded with a silvery ring which startled every one.

Madge, sitting with her hands tightly clasped together, began to fear that her heart highly-strung nerves would give way. My God, she muttered softly to herself. Will this suspense never end? Just then the door opened and the jury re-entered. The prisoner was again placed in the dock and the judge resumed his seat, this time with the black cap in his pocket, as everyone guessed. The usual formalities were gone through,

and when the foreman of the jury stood up, every neck was craned forward, and every ear was on the alert to catch the words that fell from his lips. The prisoner flushed a little and then grinned. grew pale as death, giving a quick, nervous glance at the quiet figure in black, of which he could just catch a glimpse. Then came the verdict, sharp and decisive. Not guilty. On hearing this a cheer went up from everyone in the court, so strong was the sympathy with Brian. In vain the crier of the court yelled, order! until he was red in the face. In vain the judge threatened to commit all present for contempt of court. His voice being inaudible, it did not matter much. The

enthusiasm could not be restrained, and it was five minutes before order was obtained. The judge, having recovered his composure, delivered his judgment, and discharged the prisoner in accordance with the verdict. Calton had won many cases, but it is questionable if he had ever heard a verdict which gave him so much satisfaction as that which proclaimed Fitzgerald innocent. And Brian, stepping down from the dock a free man, passed through a crowd of congratulating friends to a small room off the court, where a woman was waiting for him, a woman who clung round his neck and sobbed out,

My darling, my darling, I knew that God would save you. End of Chapter 19, read by Sabella Denton. For more free audiobooks or to volunteer, please visit Libravox.org. Chapter 20 of Mystery of a Handsome Cab by Fergus Hume, read for Libravocs.org into the public domain. The Argus gives its opinion. The morning after the trial was concluded, the following article in reference to the matter appeared in the Argus.

during the past three months we have frequently in our columns commented on the extraordinary case which is now so widely known as the handsome cab tragedy we can safely say that it is the most remarkable case which has ever come under the notice of our criminal court and the verdict given by the jury yesterday has enveloped the matter in a still deeper mystery by a train of strange coincidences mr bryan fitzgerald a young squatter was suspected of having murdered white and had it not been for the timely appearance of the time of the appearance of his own squatter was suspected of having murdered white and had it not been for the timely appearance of the time of the appearance of his own of the woman Rawlins, who termed up at the 11th hour, we feel sure that a verdict of guilty would have been given, and an innocent man would have suffered punishment for the crime of another. Fortunately, for the prisoner, and for the interests of justice, his counsel, Mr. Calton, by unwearied diligence, was able to discover the last witness, and prove an alibi. Had it not been for this, in spite of the remarks made by the learned counsel in his brilliant speech yesterday, which resulted in the acquittal of the prisoner, we questioned very much if the

rest of the evidence in favor of the accused would have been sufficient to persuade the jury that he was an innocent man. The only points in favor of Mr. Fitzgerald were the inability of the cabman Royston to swear to him as the man who got into the cab with white, the wearing of a diamond ring on the forefinger of the right hand, whereas Mr. Fitzgerald wears no rings, and the difference in time sworn to by the cabman Rankin and the landlady. Against these points, however, the prosecution placed a mass of evidence, which seemed conclusively to prove the guilt. of the prisoner. But the appearance of Sal Rawlins in the witness box put an end to all doubt. In language which could not be mistaken for anything else than the truth, she positively

swore that Mr. Fitzgerald was in one of the slums off Bork Street, between the hours of one and two on Friday morning, at which time the murder was committed. Under these circumstances, the jury unanimously agreed, and returned verdict of not guilty, and the prisoner was forthwith acquitted. We have to congratulate his counsel, Mr. Coulton, for the able speech he made for the defence and also mr fitzgerald for his providential escape from a dishonourable and undeserved punishment he leaves the court without a stain on his character and with the respect and sympathy of all australians for the courage and dignity with which he comported himself throughout while resting under the shadow of such a serious charge but now that it has been conclusively proved that he is innocent the question arises in every one's mind who is the murderer of oliver white the man who committed this dastardly crime is still at large and for all we know may be in our midst emboldened by the impunity with which he has escaped the hands of justice he may be walking securely down our streets and talking of the very crime of which he is the perpetrator secure in the thought that all traces of him have been lost for ever from the time he alighted from rankin's cabs at pallet street he has ventured probably to remain in melbourne and for all that any one knows he may have been in the court during the late trial nay this very article may meet his eye and he may rejoice at the futile efforts which have been made to find him

but let him beware justice is not blind but blindfolded and when he least expects it she will tear the bandage from her keen eyes and drag him forth to the light of day to receive the reward of his deed owing to the strong evidence against fitzgerald that is the only direction in which the detectives have hitherto looked but baffled on one side they will look on the other and this time may be successful that such a man as the murderer of oliver white should be at large is a matter of danger not only to individual citizens but to the community at large for it is a well-known fact that a tiger who once tastes human blood never overcomes his craving for it and without doubt the man who so daringly and coolly murdered a drunken and therefore defenceless man will not hesitate to commit a second crime the present feeling of all classes in melbourne must be one of terror that such a man should be at large and must in great measure resemble the fear which filled every one's heart in london when the mar murders were committed and it was known that the murderer had escaped any one who has read de quincey's graphic description of the crime perpetrated by williams must tremble to think that such another devil incarnate is in our midst it is an imperative necessity that such a feeling should be done away with but how is this to be managed it is one thing to speak and another to act there seems to be no possible clue discoverable at present which can lead to the discovery of the real murderer the man in the light coat who got out of rankin's cab at powlett street east melbourne designedly as it now appeared in order to throw suspicion on Fitzgerald, has vanished completely as the witches in Macbeth, and left no trace behind. It was two o'clock in the morning when he left the cab, and in a quiet

suburb like East Melbourne no one would be about, so that he could easily escape unseen. There seems to be but one chance of ever tracing him, and that is to be found in the papers which were stolen from the pocket of the dead man. What they were, only two persons knew, and one knows now. The first two were White and the woman who was called, the queen, and both of them are now dead. The other who knows now is the man who committed the crime. There can be no doubt that these papers were the motive for the crime, as no money was taken from the pockets of the deceased. The fact also that the papers were carried in a pocket made inside the waistcoat of the deceased shows that they were of value. Now the reason we think that

the dead woman knew of the existence of these papers is simply this. It appears that she came out from England with Huidas's mistress, and after staying sometime in Sydney, came on to to Melbourne. How she came into such a foul and squalid den as that she died in, we are unable to say, unless, seeing that she was given to drink, she was picked up drunk by some Samaritan of the Slums, and carried to Mrs. Rollins's humble abode. White visited her there frequently, but appears to have made no attempt to remove her to a better place, alleging as his reason that the doctor said she would die if taken into the air. Our reporter learned from one of the detectives that the dead woman was in the habit of talking to White about certain papers,

and on one occasion was overheard to say to him, "'They'll make your fortune if you play your cards well.' This was told to the detective by the woman Rollins, to whose providential appearance Mr. Fitzgerald owes his escape. From this it can be gathered that the papers, whatever they might be, were of value, and sufficient to tempt another to commit a murder in order to obtain them. White, therefore, being dead, and his murderer having escaped,

the only way of discovering the secret which lies at the root of this tree of crime is to find out the history of the woman who died in the slum. Traced back for some years, circumstances may be discovered which will reveal what these papers contained, and once that is found, we can confidently say that the murderer will be soon discovered. This is the only chance of finding out the cause, and the author of this mysterious murder, and if it fails, we fear the handsome cab tragedy will have to be relegated to the list of undiscovered crimes, and the assassin of White will have no other punishment than that of the remorse of his own conscience. End of Chapter 20, read by Sabella Denton. For more free audiobooks or to volunteer,

please visit Libravox.org. Chapter 21 of Mystery of a Handsome Cab by Fergus Hume, read for Libravox.org into the public domain. Three months afterwards. A hot December day, with a cloudless blue sky, and a sun blazing down on the earth, clothed in all the beauty of summer garments. Such a description of snowy December sounds perchance a trifle strange to English ears. It may strike them as being somewhat fantastic, as was the play in a Midsummer night's dream, to Demetrius, when he remarked, this is hot ice and wondrous cold fire. But here in Australia we are in the realm of contrary, and many things other than dreams go by contrary. Here black swans are an established fact, and the proverb concerning them,

made when they were considered as mythical a bird as the phoenix, has been rendered null and void by the discoveries of captain cook here ironwood sinks and pumice stone floats which must strike the curious spectator as a queer freak on the part of dame nature at home the edinburgh mail bears the hardy traveller to a cold climate with snowy mountains and a wintry blast but here the further north one goes the hotter it gets till one arrives in queensland where the heat is so great that a profane traveller of an epigrammatic turn of mind once fittingly called it an amateur hell but however contrary as mrs gamp would say nature be in her dwellings the english race out in this great continent are much the same as in the old country john bull patty and sandy all being of a conservative turn of mind and with strong opinions as to the keeping up of old customs therefore on a hot christmas day with the sun one hundred odd in the shade australian revellers sit down to the roast beef and plum-pudding of old england which they eat contentedly is the orthodox thing and on new year's day with the sun one hundred odd in the shade australian revellers sit down to the roast beef and plum-pudding of old england which they eat contentedly is the orthodox thing and on new year's Eve, the festive kelp, repairs for the doors of his frienes, with a bottle of whiskey and a cheering burst of old angine. Still, it is these peculiar customs that give an individuality to a nation, and John Bull

abroad loses none of his insular obstinacy, but keeps his Christmas in the old fashion, and wears his clothes in the new fashion, without regard to heat or cold. A nation that never surrenders to the fire of an enemy cannot be expected to give in to the fire of the sun, but if some ingenious mortal would only in some light and airy costume after the fashion of the Greek dress, and Australians would consent to adopt the same, life in Melbourne and her sister cities would be much cooler than it is at present. Madge was thinking, somewhat after this fashion, as she sat on the wide veranda, in a state of exhaustion from the heat, and stared out at the wide plains lying parched

and arid under the blazing sun. There was a dim kind of haze rising from the excessive heat, ranging midway between heaven and earth, and through its tremulous, fail the distant hills looked aerial and unreal. Stretched out before her was the garden with its intensely vivid flowers. To look at them merely was to increase one's caloric condition. Great bushes of oleanders, with their bright pink blossoms, luxurious rose trees, with their yellow, red, and white blooms, and all along the border a rainbow of many colored flowers, with such brilliant hints that the eye ached to see them in the hot sunshine,

and turned restfully to the cool green of the trees which in circupt, the lawn. In the center was a round pool, surrounded by a ring of white marble, and containing a still sheet of water, which flasked like a mirror in the blinding light. The homestead of Yaba Yaluk's station was a long low house, with no upper story, and with a wide veranda running nearly rounded. Cool green blinds were hung between the pillars to keep out the sun, and all along were scattered lounging chairs of basket-work, with rugs, novels, empty soda-water bottles, and all the other evidences that Mr. Fredelby's guess had been wise and stayed inside during the noonday heat. Madge was seated in one of these comfortable chairs, and she divided her attention

between the glowing beauty of the world outside, which she could see through a narrow slit in the blinds. But she did not seem greatly interested in her book, and it was not long before she let it fall unheeded to the ground and took refuge in her own thoughts. The trial, through which she had so recently passed, had been a great one, and it had had to be a great one, and it had to not been without its outward result. It had left its impress on her beautiful face, and there was a troubled look in her eyes. After Brian's acquittal of the murder of Oliver White, she had been taken by her father up to the station, in the hope it would restore her to health. The mental strain which had been on her during the trial had nearly brought on an attack of brain fever,

but here, far from the excitement of town life, in the quiet seclusion of the country, she had recovered her health, but not her spirits. Women are more impressionable than men, and it is perhaps for this reason that they age quicker. A trouble which would pass lightly over a man leaves an indelible mark on a woman, both physically and mentally, and the terrible episode of White's murder had changed Madge from a bright and merry girl into a grave and beautiful woman. Sorrow is a potent enchantress. Once she touches the heart, life can never be quite the same again.

We never more surrender ourselves entirely to pleasure, and often we find, so many of the things we have longed for are, after all, but dead sea-fruit. Sorrow is the veiled Isis of the world, and once we penetrate her mystery and see her deeply furrowed face and mournful eyes, the magic light of romance dies all away, and we realize the hard, bitter fact of life in all its nakedness. Madge felt something of this. She saw the world now, not as the fantastic fairyland of her girlish dreams, but as the sorrowful veil of tears through which we almost walk,

till we reached the promised land. And Brian, he also had undergone a change, for there were a few white hairs now amid his curly chestnut locks, and his character, from being gay and bright, had become moody and irritable. After the trial he had left town immediately, in order to avoid meeting with his friends, and had gone up to his station,

which was next to that of the fredelbees. There he worked hard all day, and smoked hard all night, thinking over the secret which the dead woman had told him, and which threatened to open. overshadow his life. Every now and then he rode over and saw Madge, but this was generally when he knew her father to be away from Melbourne, for of late he had disliked the millionaire. Madge could not but condemn his attitude, remembering how her father had stood beside him in his recent trouble. Yet there was another reason why Brian Keptilu from Yaba Yaluk's station.

He did not wish to meet any of the gay society which was there, knowing that since his trial he was an object of curiosity and sympathy to everyone, a position of the woman. A position galling enough to his proud nature at christmas time fredelby had asked several people up from melbourne and though madge would rather have been left alone yet she could not refuse her father and had to play hostess with a smiling brow and aching heart who a month since had joined the noble army of benedicts was there with mrs rolliston ney miss featherweight who ruled him with a rod of iron having bought felix with her money she had determined to make good use of him and being ambitious to shine in melbourne's society had insisted of upon Felix studying politics, so that when the next general election came round he could enter Parliament. Felix had rebelled at first, but ultimately gave way, as he found that when he had a good novel concealed among his parliamentary papers, time passed quite pleasantly, and he got the reputation of a hard worker at little cost. They had brought up Julia with them, and this young

person had made up her mind to become the second Mrs. Fredelby. She had not received much encouragement, but like the English at Waterloo, did not know when she was beaten, and carried on the siege of Mr. Fredelby's heart in an undaunted manner. Dr. Chinston had come up for a little relaxation, and gave never a thought to his anxious patients, or the many sick rooms he was in the habit of visiting. A young English fellow, called Peterson, who amused himself by traveling, an old colonist, full of reminiscences of the old days, when, by God, sir, we had a gas-lap in the hull of Melbourne, and several other people completed the party. They had all gone off to the billiard-room, and left Madge in her comfortable chair, half asleep. Suddenly she started,

as she heard a step behind her, and turning saw Sal Rollins, in the neatest of black gowns, with a coquettish white cap and apron, and an open book. Madge had been so delighted with Sal for saving Brian's life that she had taken her into her service as made. Mr. Fredelby had offered strong opposition at first that a fallen woman like Sal should be near as daughter, but Madge was determined to rescue the unhappy girl from the life of sin she was leading, and so at last he reluctantly consented. Brian too had objected, but ultimately yielded, as he saw that Madge had set her heart on it. Mother Gutter-Snipe objected at first, characterizing the whole affair as cussed humbug, but she likewise gave in, and Sal became made to Miss

Fredelby, who immediately set to work to remedy Sal's defective education by teaching her to read. The book she held in her hand was a spelling-book. and this she handed to Madge. "'I think I knows it now, miss,' she said respectfully, as Madge looked up with a smile. "'Do you indeed?' said Madge gaily. "'You will be able to read in no time, Sal.' "'Read this,' said Sal, touching Tristan, a romance by Zoe. "'Hardly,' said Madge, picking it up with a look of contempt.

"'I want you to learn English, and not a confusion of tongues like this thing. But it's too hot for lessons, Sal,' she went on, leaning back in her seat. "'So get a chair and talk to me.' Sal complied, and Madge looked out at the brilliant flower-beds, and at the black shadow of the tall witch-elm which grew on one side of the lawn. She wanted to ask a certain question of Sal, and did not know how to do it. The moodiness and irritability of Brian had troubled her very much of late, and with the quick instinct of her sex, she ascribed it indirectly to the woman who had died in the back slum. Anxious to share his troubles and lighten his burden, she determined to ask Sal about this mysterious woman, and find out, if possible, What secret had been told to Brian which affected him so deeply?

Sal, she said, after a short pause, turning her clear gray eyes on the woman, I want to ask you something. The other shivered and turned pale. About—about that? Madge nodded. Sal hesitated for a moment and then flung herself at the feet of her mistress. I will tell you, she cried. You have been kind to me and have a right to know.

I will tell you all I know. Then, asked Madge firmly, as she clasped her hands type of. tightly together. Who was this woman whom Mr. Fitzgerald went to see, and where did she come from? Grand and me found her one evening in Little Bork Street, answered Sal, just near the theater. She was quite drunk, and we took her home with us. "'Oh, how kind of you,' said Madge. "'Oh, it wasn't that,' replied the other dryly. Grand wanted her clothes. She was awful swell dressed.

And she took the clothes. How wicked! Anyone would have done it down our way, answered Sal indifferently, but Grand changed her mind when she got her home. I went out to get some gin for Grand, and when I got back she was a hugging and a kissin' the woman. She recognized her. "'Yes, I suppose so,' replied Sal. And next morning, when the lady got square, she made a grab at Grant and hollered out. "'I was coming to see you.'

"'And then?' "'Grand chucked me out of the room, and they had a long jaw, and then when I come back, Grand tells me the lady is going to stay with us because she was ill, and sent me for Mr. White.' "'And he came?' "'Oh, yes, often,' said Sal. He kicked up a row when he first turned up, but when he found she was ill he sent a doctor, but it weren't no good. She was two weeks with us, and then died the morning she saw Mr. Fitzgerald.

I suppose Mr. White was in the habit of talking to this woman. Lots, returned Sal, but he always turned Grant and me out of the room before he started. And, hesitating, did you ever overhear one of those conversations? Yes, one, answered the other with a nod. I got riled at the way he cleared us out of our own room, and once, when he shut the door and Grand went off to go. get some gin, I sat down at the door and listened. He wanted her to give up some papers, and she wouldn't. She said she'd die first, but at last he got him and took him away with him.

Did you see them? asked Madge, as the ascertation of Gorby that White had been murdered for certain papers flashed across her mind. Rather, said Sal, I was looking through a hole in the door, and she takes them from under her pillar, and he takes them to the table, where the candle was, and looks at them. They were in a large blue envelope with writing on it in red ink. Then he put him in his pocket, and she sings out, "'You'll lose him, and he says, no, I'll always have him with me, and if he wants him, he'll have to kill me fuss before he gets him.' "'And you did not know who the man was, to whom the papers were of such importance?

No, I didn't. They never said no names. And when was it, White got the papers?' "'About a week before he was murdered,' said Sal, after a moment's thought. And after that he never turned up again. She kept watching for him night and day, and cause he didn't come, got mad at him. I hear her saying, "'You think you've done with me, my gentleman, and leaves me here to die,

but I'll spoil your little game.' And then she wrote that letter to Mr. Fitzgerald, and I brought him to her, as you know. "'Yes, yes,' said Madge, rather impatiently. "'I heard all that at the trial. But what conversation passed between Mr. Fitzgerald and this woman? Did you hear it?' "'Bits of it,' replied the other.

"'I didn't split in court, "'because I thought the lawyer would be down on me for listening. "'The first thing I heard Mr. Fitzgerald saying was, "'You're mad, it ain't true,' and she says, "'Selt me, it is. White's got the proof.' And then he sings out, "'My poor girl!' and she says, "'Will you marry her now?'

And says he, "'I will, I love her more than ever. And then she makes a grab at him and says, "'Spoil his game if you can, and says he, "'What's your name?' And she says, "'What?' asked Madge breathlessly. "'Rosanna Moore.'

There was a sharp exclamation as Sal said the name, and turning round quickly, Madge found Brian standing beside her, pale as death, fixed on the woman who had risen to her feet. Go on, he said sharply. That's all I know, she replied in a sullen tone. Brian gave a sigh of relief.

You can go, he said slowly. I wish to speak with Miss Fredlby alone. Sal looked at him for a moment, and then glanced at her mistress, who nodded to her as a sign that she might withdraw. She picked up her book, and with another sharp, inquiring look at Brian, turned and walked slowly into the house. End of Chapter 21. Read by Sabella Denton.

For more free audiobooks or to volunteer, please visit Librevox.org. Chapter 22 of Mystery of a Handsome Cab by Fergus Hume. Read for Libravox.org into the public domain. A daughter of Eve. After Sal had gone, Brian sank into a chair beside Madge with a weary sigh. He was in riding-dress, which became his stalwart figure well, and he looked remarkably handsome, but ill and worried. What on earth were you questioning that girl about, he said,

abruptly, taking his hat off and tossing it and his gloves onto the floor. Madge flushed crimson for a moment, and then taking Brian's two strong hands in her own, looked steadily into his frowning face. "'Why don't you trust me?' she asked in a quiet tone. "'It is not necessary that I should,' he answered moodily. "'The secret that Rosanna Moore told me on her deathbed is nothing that would benefit you to know.' "'Is it about me?' she persisted. "'It is and it is not,' he answered, epigrammatel.

I suppose that means that it is about a third person and concerns me, she said calmly, releasing his hands. Well, yes, impatiently striking his boot with his riding-whip. But it is nothing that can harm you so long as you do not know it. But God help you should anyone tell it to you, for it would embitter your life. My life being so very sweet now, answered Madge, with a slight sneer. You are trying to put out a fire by pouring oil on it, and what you say only makes me more determined to learn what it is.

madge i implore you not to persist in this foolish curiosity he said almost fiercely it will bring you only misery if it concerns me i have a right to know it she answered curtly when i marry you how can we be happy together with the shadow of a secret between us brian rose and leaned against the verandah post with a dark frown on his face do you remember that verse of brownings he said coolly where the apple reddens never pry lest we lose our eden's eve and i singularly apple to our present conversation, I think. Ah, she said, her pale face flushing with anger, you want me to live in a fool's paradise, which may end at any moment. That depends upon yourself, he answered coldly. I never roused your curiosity by telling you that there was a secret, but betrayed it inadvertently to Calton's cross-questioning.

I tell you candidly that I did learn something from Rosanna Moore, and it concerns you, though only indirectly through a third person. But it would do no good to reveal it, and would ruin both our lives. She did not answer, but looked straight before her into the glowing sunshine. Brian fell on his knees beside her and stretched out his hands with an entreating gesture. "'Oh, my darling!' he cried sadly. "'Canot you trust me? The love which has stood such a test as yours cannot fail like this.

Let me bear the misery of knowing it alone, without blighting your young life with the knowledge of it. I would tell you if I could, but God help me, I cannot, I cannot.' And he buried his face in his hands. Madge closed her mouth firmly and touched his comely head with her cool white fingers. There was a struggle going on in her breast between her feminine curiosity and her love for the man at her feet. The latter conquered, and she bowed her head over his. Brian, she whispered softly,

Let it be as you wish. I will never again try to learn this secret since you do not desire it. He arose to his feet and caught her in his strong arms with a glad smile. "'My dearest,' he said, kissing her passionately, and then for a few moments neither of them spoke. "'We will begin a new life,' he said at length. "'We will put the sad past away from us and think of it only as a dream.' "'But this secret will still fret you,' she murmured.

"'It will wear away with time and with change of scene,' he answered sadly. "'Change of scene,' she repeated in a startled tone. "'Are you going away?' "'Yes, I've sold my station, and intend leaving Australia forever during the next three months. "'And where are you going?' asked the girl, rather bewildered. "'Anywhere,' he said, a little bitterly. "'I am going to follow the example of Cain and be a wanderer on the face of the earth.' "'Alone?'

"'That is what I have come to see you about,' said Brian, looking steadily at her. "'I have come to ask if you will marry me at once, and we will leave Australia together.' She hesitated. "'I know it is asking a great deal,' he said hurriedly, to leave your friends, your position, and, with hesitation, your father, but think of my life without you. think how lonely i shall be wandering round the world by myself but you will not desert me now i have so much need of you you will come with me and be my good angel in the future as you have been in the past she put her hand on his arm and looking at him with her clear grey eyes said yes thank god for that said brian reverently and there was again a silence then they sat down and talked about their plans and built castles in the air after the fashion of lovers i wonder what papa will say observed madge idly twisting her engagement ring round and round brian frowned and a dark look passed over his face i suppose i must speak to him about it he said at length reluctantly yes of course she replied lightly it is merely a formality still one that must be observed and where is mr fredelby asked fitzgerald rising

in the billiard-room she answered as she followed his example no she continued as she saw her father step on to the verandah here he is brian had not seen mark fredelby for some time and was astonished at the change which had taken place in his appearance formerly he had been as straight as an arrow with a stern fresh-coloured face but now he had a slight stoop and his face looked old and withered His thick black hair was streaked here and there with white. His eyes alone were unchanged. They were as keen and bright as ever. Brian knew full well how he himself had altered. He knew, too, that Madge was not the same, and now he could not but wonder whether the great change that was apparent in her father was attributed to the same source to the murder of Oliver White. Sad and thoughtful as Mr. Fredelby looked, as he came along, a smile broke over his face as he

caught sight of his daughter. "'My dear Fitzgerald,' he said, holding out his hand. this is indeed a surprise. When did you come over?' "'About half an hour ago,' replied Brian, reluctantly, taking the extended hand of the millionaire. I came to see Madge and have a talk with you. "'Ah, that's right,' said the other, putting his arm round his daughter's waist. "'So that's what has brought the roses to your face, young lady,' he went on, pinching her cheek playfully. "'You will stay to dinner, of course, Fitzgerald.'

"'Thank you no,' answered Brian, hastily. "'My dress—' "'Nonsense,' interrupted Frotleby, hospitably. "'We are not in Melbourne, and I am. I'm sure Madge will excuse your dress. You must stay. Yes, do, said Madge, in a beseeching tone, touching his hand lightly. I don't see so much of you that I can let you off with half an hour's conversation. Brian seemed to be making a violent effort. Very well, he said in a low voice, I shall stay.

And now, said Fredelby in a brisk tone as he sat down, the important question of dinner being settled, what is it you want to see me about? Your station? No, answered Brian, leaning against the veranda post, while Madge slipped her hand through his arm. I've sold it. Sold it? echoed Fredelby aghast. What for? I felt restless and wanted a change. Ah, rolling stone, said the millionaire, shaking his head. Gathers no moss, you know. Stones don't roll of their own accord, replied Brian, in a gloomy tone. They are impelled by a force over which they have no control. Oh, indeed, said the millionaire in a joking tone, and may I ask what is your propelling force? Brian looked at the man's face with such a steady gaze that the

latter's eyes dropped after an uneasy attempt to return it. "'Well,' he said impatiently, looking at the two tall young people standing before him, "'what do you want to see me about?' "'Madge has agreed to marry me at once, and I want your consent.' "'Impossible,' said Fredelby curtly. "'There is no such a word as impossible,' retorted Brian Cooley, thinking of the famous remark in Richelieu. "'Why should you refuse?

I am rich now.' "'Pasha,' said Fredelby, rising impatiently, "'it's not money I'm thinking about. "'I've got enough for both of you. but I cannot live without Madge. Then come with us, said his daughter, kissing him. Her lover, however, did not second the invitation, but stood moodily twisting his tawny moustache,

and staring out into the garden in an absent sort of manner. What do you say, Fitzgerald, said Fredelby, who was eyeing him keenly. Oh, delighted, of course, answered Brian, confusedly. In that case, returned the other, coolly, I will tell you what we will do. I've bought a steam-yot, and she will be ready for sea about the end of January. You will marry my daughter at once and go around New Zealand for your honeymoon. When you return, if I feel inclined, and you two turtle-doves don't object, I will join you,

and we will make a tour of the world. Oh, how delightful!' cried Madge, clasping her hands. "'I am so fond of the ocean, with a companion, of course,' she added with a saucy glance at her lover. Brian's face had brightened considerably, for he was a born sailor, and a pleasant yachting voyage in the blue waters of the Pacific, with Madge as his companion, was to his mind a sneer paradise as any mortal could get and what is the name of the yacht he asked with deep interest her name repeated mr fredelby hastily oh a very ugly name and one which i intend to change at present she is called the rosanna rosanna brian and his betrothed both started at this and the former stared curiously at the old man wondering at the coincidence between the name of the yacht and that of the woman who died in the melbourne slum

mr fredelby flushed a little when he saw brian's eyes fixed on him with such an inquiring gaze and rose with an embarrassed laugh you are a pair of moon-struck lovers he said gaily taking an arm of each and leading them into the house but you forget dinner will be ready soon end of chapter twenty two read by cebella denton for more free audio books or to volunteer please visit librebox dot org chapter twenty three of mystery of a handsome cab by fergus hume read for librovocs dot org into the public domain across the walnuts and the wine more sweetest of bard sings oh there's nothing half so sweet in life as love's young dream but he made this assertion in his callow days before he had learned the value of a good digestion To a young and fervid youth, Love's young dream is, no doubt, very charming, lovers, as a rule, having a small appetite, but to a man who has seen the world, and drunk deeply of the wine of life, there is nothing half so sweet in the whole of his existence as a good dinner. A hard heart and a good digestion will make any man happy. So said Talleyrand, a cynic, if you like, but a man who knew the temper of his day and generation.

Ovid wrote about the art of love, brilliant saverin, of the art of dining, yet I warrant you, The gastronomical treatise of the brilliant Frenchman is more widely read than the passionate songs of the Roman poet. Who does not value as the sweetest, in the whole twenty-four, the hour when, seated at an artistically laid table, with delicately cooked viands, good wine, and pleasant company, all the cares and worries of the day give place to a delightful sense of absolute enjoyment. Dinner with the English people is generally a very dreary affair, and there is a heaviness about the whole thing which communicates itself to the guests, who eat and drink with a solemn

persistence, as though they were occupied in fulfilling some sacred right. But there are men, alas, few and far between, who possess the rare art of giving good dinners, good in the sense of sociality, as well as in that of cookery. Mark Fredelby was one of these rare individuals. He had an innate genius for getting pleasant people together, people who, so to speak, dovetailed into one another. He had an excellent cook, and his wines were irreproachable, so that Brian, in spite of his worries, was glad that he had accepted the invitation. The bright gleam of the silver, the glitter of glass, and the perfume of flowers, all collected under the subdued crimson glow of a pink-shaded lamp, which hung from the ceiling,

could not but give him a pleasurable sensation. On one side of the dining-room were the French windows, opening onto the veranda, and beyond appeared the vivid green of the trees, and the dazzling colors of the flower, somewhat tempered by the soft hazy glow of the twilight. Brian had made himself as respectable as possible under the odd circumstances of dining in his riding-dress, and sat next to Madge, contentedly sipping his wine, and listening to the pleasant chatter which was going on around him. Felix Rolliston was in great spirits, the more so as Mrs. Rolliston was at the further end of the table, hidden from his view.

Julia Featherwight sat near Mr. Fredelby, and chatted to him so persistently that he wished she would become possessed of a dumb devil. Dr. Chinston and Peterson were seated on the other side of the table, and the old colonist, whose name was Valpy, had the post of honor on Mr. Fredelby's right hand. The conversation had turned on to the subject, evergreen and fascinating, of politics, and Mr. Rawliston thought it a good opportunity to air his views as to the government of the colony, and to show his wife that he really meant to obey her wish and become a power in the political world.

"'By Jove, you know,' he said, with a wave of his hand, as though he were addressing the house. The country is going to the dogs, and all that sort of thing. What we want is a man like Beaconsfield.' "'Ah, but you can't pick up a man like that every day,' said Fredelby, who was listening with an amused smile to Rolliston's disquisitions. Rather a good thing, too, observed Dr. Chinstin, dryly. Genius would become too common.

Well, when I am elected,' said Felix, who had his own views, which modesty forbade him to publish, on the subject of the coming colonial Disraeli, I probably shall form a party. To advocate what? asked Peterson, curiously. Oh, well, you see, hesitated Felix. I haven't drawn up a program yet, so I can't say at present. Yes, you can hardly give a performance without a program, said the doctor, taking a sip of wine, and then everybody laughed.

And on what are your political opinions founded? asked Mr. Fredelby, absently, without looking at Felix. Oh, you see, I've read the parliamentary reports in constitutional history, and—and Vivian Gray, said Felix, who began to feel himself somewhat at sea. The last of which is what the author called it, a lucis naturae, observed Chinston. Don't erect your political schemes on such bubble foundations as are in that novel, for you won't find a Marquis Carabas out here. Unfortunately, no, observed Felix mournfully, but we may find a Vivian Gray.

Everyone smothered a smile, the illusion was so patent. Well, he didn't succeed in the end, cried Peterson. "'Of course he didn't,' retorted Felix disdainfully. "'He made it enemy of a woman, and a man who was such a fool as to do that deserves to fall.' "'You have an excellent opinion of our sex, Mr. Ralliston,' said Madge, with a wicked glance at the wife of that gentleman, who was listening complacently to her husband's aimless chatter. "'No better than they deserve,' replied Roliston gallantly. "'But you have never gone in for politics, Mr. Fredelby.'

"'Who I—' "'No,' said the host, rousing himself out of the brown study into which he had fallen. I'm afraid I'm not sufficiently patriotic, and my business did not permit me. And now? Now, echoed Mr. Fredelby, glancing at his daughter, I intend to travel. The jolliest thing out, said Peterson eagerly. One never gets tired of seeing the queer things that are in the world. I've seen queer enough things in Melbourne in the early days, said the old colonist,

with a wicked twinkle in his eyes. Oh, cried Julia, putting her hands up to his ears. Don't dare tell me them, for I'm sure they're naughty. We weren't sates then, said old Val. with a senile chuckle. "'Ah, then we haven't changed much in that respect,' retorted Fredelby dryly. "'You talk of your old theatres now,' went on Valpy, with the garrulousness of old age.

Why, you haven't got a dancer like Rosanna.' Brian started on hearing this name again, and he felt Madge's cold hand touch his. "'And who was Rosanna?' asked Felix, curiously, looking up. "'A dancer and a burlesque actress,' replied Valpy, vivaciously, nodding his old head. "'Such a beauty! We were all mad about her!' Such hair and eyes. You remember her, Fredelby? Yes, answered the host in a curiously dry voice. But before Mr. Valpy had the opportunity to wax more eloquent, Madge rose from the table,

and the other ladies followed. The ever-polite Felix held the door open for them, and received a bright smile from his wife, for what she considered his brilliant talk at the dinner-table. Brian sat still and wondered why Fredelby changed color on hearing the name. He supposed that the millionaire had been mixed up with the actress, and did not care about being reminded of his early indiscretions, and after all, who does? She was as light as a fairy, continued Valpy with a wicked chuckle. What became of her? asked Brian abruptly. Mark Fredelby looked up suddenly, as Fitzgerald asked this question.

She went to England in 1858, said the aged one. I'm not quite sure if it was July or August, but it was 1858. You will excuse me, Valpy, but I hardly think these reminiscences of a ballet dancer are amusing, said Fredelby, curtly. pouring himself out a glass of wine. Let us change the subject. Notwithstanding the plainly expressed wish of his host, Brian felt strongly inclined to pursue the conversation. Politeness, however, forbade such a thing, and he consoled himself with the reflection that, after dinner, he would ask old Valpy about the ballet dancer whose name caused Mark Fredelby to exhibit

such strong emotion. But to his annoyance, when the gentleman went into the drawing-room, Fredelby took the old colonist off to his study, where he sat with him the whole evening, talking over old times. Fitzgerald found Madge seated at the piano in the drawing-room, playing one of Mendelssohn's songs without words. "'What a dismal thing that is you were playing, Madge,' he said lightly, as he sank into a seat beside her. It is more like a funeral march than anything else. "'God, so it is,' said Felix, who came up at this moment. "'I don't care myself about Op 84 and all that classical humbug.

Give me something like, Belle Helena, with Emil Melville and all that sort of thing. "'Philix,' said his wife in a stern tone, "'my dear,' he answered recklessly, rendered bold by the champagne he had taken, "'you observed—' "'Nothing particular,' answered Mrs. Rolliston, glancing at him with a stony eye, "'except that I consider Offenbach low.' "'I don't,' said Felix, sitting down to the piano, "'from which Madge had just risen, and to prove he ain't, here goes.'

He ran his fingers lightly over the keys, and dashed into a brilliant Offenbach gallop, which had the effect of waking up the people in the drawing-room, who felt sleepy after dinner, and sent the blood tingling through their veins. When they were thoroughly roused, Felix, now that he had an appreciative audience, for he was by no means an individual who believed in wasting his sweetness on the desert air, prepared to amuse them. "'You haven't heard the last new song by Frosty, have you?' he asked after he had brought

his gallop to a conclusion. "'Is that the composer of Inasmuch and How So?' asked Julia, clasping her hands. I do love his music, and the words are so sweetly pretty. Infernally stupid, she means, whispered Peterson de Brian. They've no more meaning in them than the titles. Sing us the new song, Felix, commanded his wife, and her obedient husband obeyed her. It was entitled somewhere, words by Vashti, music by Paola Frosty, and was one of those extraordinary compositions which may mean anything,

that is, if the meaning can be discovered. Felix had a pleasant voice, though it was not very strong, and the music was pretty, while the words were mystical. The first verse was as follows. A flying cloud, a breaking wave, a faint light in a moonless sky, a voice from the silent grave, sounds sad in one long, bitter cry. I know not sweet where you may stand, with shining eyes and golden hair, yet I know I will touch your hand and kiss your lips somewhere, somewhere, somewhere,

when the summer sun is fair, waiting on me on land or sea, somewhere love somewhere. The second verse was very similar to the first, and when Felix finished, a murmur of applause broke from every one of the ladies. "'How sweetly pretty!' sighed Julia. "'Such a lot in it!' "'But what is its meaning?' asked Brian, rather bewildered. "'It hasn't got one,' replied Felix complacently. "'Surely you don't want every song to have a moral, like a book of Aesop's fables.'

Brian shugged his shoulders and turned away with Madge. "'I must say I agree with Fitzgerald,' said the doctor quickly. "'I like a song with some meaning in it. The poetry of the one you sang is as mystical as Browning, without any of his genius to redeem it. Philistine, murmured Felix under his breath, and then vacated his seat at the piano in favor of Julia, who was about to sing a ballad called Going Down the Hill, which had been the rage in Melbourne musical circles during the last two months. Meanwhile, Madge and Brian were walking up and down in the moonlight. It was an exquisite night, with a cloudless blue sky glittering with the stars,

and a great yellow moon in the west. Madge seated herself on the side of the marble ledge which girdled the still pool of water in front of the house and dipped her hand into the cool water. Brian leaned against the trunk of a great magnolia tree, whose glossy green leaves and great creamy blossoms looked fantastic in the moonlight. In front of them was the house, with the reddy lamplight streaming through the wide windows, and they could see the guests within, excited by the music, waltzing to Rolliston's playing, and their dark figures kept passing and repassing the windows, while the charming music of the wood. waltz mingled with their merry laughter. "'Looks like a haunted house,' said Brian, thinking of Poe's weird poem,

"'but such a thing is impossible out here.' "'I don't know so much about that,' said Madge, gravely, lifting up some water in the palm of her hand, and letting it stream back like diamonds in the moonlight. "'I knew a house in St. Kilda, which was haunted.' "'By what?' asked Brian, sceptically. "'Noises,' she answered solemnly. Brian burst out laughing and startled a bat,

which flew round and round in the silver. silver moonlight, and whirled away into the shelter of a witch-elm. "'Rats and mice are more common here than ghosts,' he said lightly. "'I'm afraid the inhabitants of your haunted house were fanciful.' "'So you don't believe in ghosts?' "'There's a banshee in our family,' said Brian, with a gay smile, "'who is supposed to cheer our death-beds with her howlings, "'but as I've never seen the lady myself, I'm afraid she's a Mrs. Harris.'

"'It's aristocratic to have a ghost in a family, I believe,' said Madge. "'That is the reason we colonials have none.' "'Ah, but you've been.' will have," he answered with a careless laugh. There are no doubt democratic as well as aristocratic ghosts. But, pshaw, he went on impatiently. What nonsense I talk! There are no ghosts except of a man's own raising.

The ghosts of a dead youth, the ghost of past follies, the ghosts of what might have been, these are the spectres which are more to be feared than those of the churchyard. Madge looked at him in silence, for she understood the meaning of that passionate outburst, the secret which the dead woman had told him, and which hung like a shadow over his life. she arose quietly and took his arm the light touch roused him and a faint wind sent an eerie rustle through the still leaves of the magnolia as they walked back in silence to the house end of chapter twenty three read by sabella denton for more free audio books or to volunteer please visit librivox dot org chapter twenty four of mystery of a handsome cab by fergus hume read for librovocs dot org into the public domain bryan receives a letter notwithstanding the hospitable invitation of mr fredelby brian refused to stay at jabby yaluke that night but after saying good-bye to madge mounted his horse and rolled slowly away in the moonlight he felt very happy and letting the reins lie loose on his horse's neck he gave himself up unreservedly to his thoughts atracura certainly did not sit behind the horseman on this night and brian to his surprise found himself singing kitty of coleraine as he rode along in the silver moon

moonlight. And was he not right to sing when the future seemed so bright and pleasant? Oh, yes, they would live on the ocean, and she would find how much pleasanter it was on the restless waters, with their solemn sense of mystery than on the crowded land. Was not the sea made for the free land of courts and slaves alone? Moore was perfectly right. She would learn that when, with a fair wind and all sail-set, they were flying over the blue Pacific waters. And then they would go home to Ireland, to the ancestral home of the Fitzgeralds, where he would lead her in under the arch, with Cade Milfalcha on it, and everyone would bless the fair young bride. Why should he trouble himself about the crime of another?

No, he had made a resolve, and intended to keep it. He would put this secret with which he had been entrusted behind his back, and would wander about the world with Madge, and her father. He felt a sudden chill come over him as he murmured the last words to himself, her father. I'm a fool, he said impatiently as he gathered up the reins and spurred his horse into a canter. It can make no difference to me so long as Madge remains ignorant, but to sit beside him, to eat with him, to have him always present like a skeleton at a feast. God help me! He urged his horse into a gallop, and as he rushed over the turf,

with the fresh, cool night-wind blowing keenly against his face, he felt a sense of relief, as though he were leaving some dark spectre behind. On he galloped, with the blood throbbing in his young veins, over miles of plain, with the dark blue, star-studded sky above, and the pale moon shining down on him. Past a silent shepherd's hut, which stood near a wide creek, splashing through the cool water, which round through the dark plain like a thread of silver in the moonlight, then again the wide grassy plain, dotted here and there with tall clumps of shadowy trees, and on either side he could see the sheep scurrying away like fantastic, specters. On, on, ever on, until his own homestead appears, and he sees the star-like light shining brightly in the distance, a long avenue of tall trees, over whose wavering shadows his horse thundered, and then the wide, grassy space in front of the house, with the clamorous barking of dogs. A groom, roused by the clatter of hooves up the avenue, comes round the side of the

house, and Brian leaps off his horse, and flinging the reins to the man, walks into his own room. There he finds a lighted lamp, brandy and soda on the table, and a packet of letters and newspapers. He flung his hat on the sofa, and opened the window and door, so as to let in the cool breeze. Then, mixing for himself a glass of brandy and soda, he turned up the lamp and prepared to read his letters. The first he took up was from a lady. Always, a she correspondent for me, says Isaac Disraeli, provided she does not cross. Brian's correspondence did not cross, but notwithstanding this, after reading half a page of small-talk and scandal, he flung the letter on the table with an impatient ejaculation. The other letters were principally business ones, but the last one proved to be from Calton, and Fitzgerald opened it with a sensation of pleasure.

Calton was a capital letter-writer, and his epistles had done much to cheer of Fitzgerald in the dismal period which succeeded his acquittal of White's murder, when he was in danger of getting into a morbid state of mind. brian therefore sipped his brandy and soda and lying back in his chair prepared to enjoy himself my dear fitzgerald wrote calton in his peculiarly clear handwriting which was such an exception to the usual crabbed hieroglyphics of his brethren of the bar while you are enjoying the cool breezes and delightful freshness of the country here am i with numerous other poor devils cooped up in this hot and dusty city how i wish i were with you in the land of goshen by the rolling waters of the murray where everything is bright and green and unsophisticated the two latter terms are almost identical instead of which my view is bounded by bricks and mortar and the muddy waters of the yara have to do duty for your noble river ah too long i have lived in acadia but i don't now and even if some power gave me the choice to go back again i am not sure that i would accept arcadia after all is a lotus-eating paradise of blissful ignorance and i love the world with its pomps vanities and wickedness while you therefore o coradin don't be afraid i'm not going to quote virgil are studying nature's book i am deep in the musty leaves of themis's volume but i dare say that the great mother teaches you much better things than her artificial daughter does me however you remember that pithy proverb when one is in rome one must not speak ill of the pope so being in the legal of the pope so being in the legal of the prophet I must respect its muse. I suppose when you saw that this letter came from a law office, you wondered what the deuce a lawyer was writing to you for, and my handwriting no doubt suggested

a writ. Pasha, I am wrong there. You are past the age of writs. Not that I hint that you are old, by no means. You are just at that appreciative age when a man enjoys life most, when the fire of youth is tempered by the experience of age, and one knows how to enjoy the utmost good things of this world. Vidisillet, love, wine, and friendship. I am afraid I am growing poetical, which is a bad thing for a lawyer, for the flower of poetry cannot flourish in the arid waste of the law. On reading what I have written, I find I have been as discursive as Pred's vicar, and as this letter is supposed to be a business one,

I must deny myself the luxury of following out a train of idle ideas and right sense. I suppose you still hold the secret which Rosanna Moore entrusted with you. "'Ah, you see I know her name, and why?' "'Simply because, with the natural curiosity of the human race, "'I have been trying to find out who murdered all over White, "'and as the Argus very cleverly pointed out, "'Rosanna Moore, as likely to be at the bottom of the whole affair, "'I have been learning her past history.

"'The secret of White's murder, and the reason for it, is known to you, "'but you refuse, even in the interest of justice, to reveal it. "'Why, I don't know. "'But we all have our little faults, "'and from an amiable, though mistaken sense of—' "'Shall I say—' duty, you refuse to deliver up the man whose cowardly crime so nearly cost you your life. After your departure from Melbourne, everyone said,

The handsome cab tragedy is at an end, and the murderer will never be discovered. I ventured to disagree with the wise-acres who made such a remark, and asked myself, Who was this woman who died at Mother Guttersnipes? Receiving no satisfactory answer for myself, I determined to find out, and took steps accordingly. In the first place, I learned from Roger Morland, who, if you remember, was a a witness against you at the trial, that White and Rosanna Moore had come out to Sydney on the John Elder about a year ago as Mr. and Mrs. White. I need hardly say that they did not think it needful to go through the formality of marriage, as such a time might have been found inconvenient

on some future occasion. Morland knew nothing about Rosanna Moore, and advised me to give up the search, as coming from a city like London it would be difficult to find any one that knew her there. Notwithstanding this, I telegraphed home to a friend of mine, who is a bit of an amateur detective find out the name and all about the woman who left england on the john elder on the twenty-first day of august eighteen as wife of oliver white mirabil deitou he found out all about her and knowing as you do what a maelstrom of humanity london is you must admit my friend was clever it appears however that the task i set him was easier than he expected for the so-called mrs white was rather a notorious individual in her own way she was a burlesque actress at the frivolity theatre in london and being a very handsome woman had been photographed innumerable times. Consequently, when she very foolishly went with White to choose a berth on board the boat, she was recognized by the clerks in the office as Rosanna Moore, better known as Mousette

of the frivolity. Why she ran away with White, I cannot tell you. With reference to men understanding women, I refer you to Balzac's remark, and at the same. Perhaps Musette got weary of St. John's Wood and Champagne's suppers, and longed for the purer air of her native land. "'Ah, you open your eyes at this latter statement. You are surprised. No, on second thoughts you are not, because she told you herself that she was a native of Sydney, and had gone home in

1858, after a triumphant career of acting in Melbourne. And why did she leave the applauding Melbourne public in the flesh-pots of Egypt? You know this also. She ran away with a rich young squatter, with more money than morals, who happened to be in Melbourne at the time. She seems to have had a weakness for running away. But why she chose White to go with this time puzzles me. He was not rich, not particularly good-looking, had no position and a bad temper. How do I know all these traits of Mr. White's character, morally and socially? Easily enough, my omniscient friend found them all out. Mr. White was the son of a London tailor, and his father, being well off, retired into a private life, and ultimately went the way of all

flesh. His son, finding himself with a capital income, and a pretty taste for amusement, cut the shop of his late lamented parent, found out that his family had come over with the conqueror, Glanville de White helped to sew the bayou tapestry, I suppose, and graduated at the frivolity theatre as a masher. In common with the other gilded youth of the day, he worshipped at the gaslit shrine of Mousset, and the goddess, pleased with his incense,

left her other admirers in the lurch, and ran off with fortunate Mr. White. So far as this goes, there is nothing to show why the murder was committed. Men do not perpetrate crimes for this. the sake of the light of loves like Muzette, unless, indeed, some wretched youth embezzles money to buy jewelry for his divinity. The career of Muzette in London was simply that of a clever member of the Demi-Mont, and as far as I can learn, no one was so much in love with her as to commit a crime for her sake. So far, so good, the motive of the crime must be found in

Australia. White had spent nearly all his money in England, and consequently Mousette and her lover arrived in Sydney with comparatively very little cash. However, with an Epicurean like philosophy, they enjoyed themselves on what little they had, and then came to Melbourne where they stayed at a second-rate hotel. Muzette, I may tell you, had one special vice, a common one, drink. She loved champagne, and drank a good deal of it. Consequently, on arriving at Melbourne and not finding that a new generation had arisen, which knew not Joseph, I mean Muzette, she drowned her sorrows in the flowing bowl, and went out after a quarrel with Mr. White to view Melbourne by night. A familiar scene to her, no doubt.

what took her to little bork street i don't know perhaps she got lost perhaps it had been a favourite walk of hers in the old days at all events she was found dead drunk in that unsavory locality by sal ralins i know this is so because sal told me so herself sal acted the part of the good samaritan took her to the squalid end she called home and there rosanna moore fell dangerously ill white who had missed her found out where she was and that she was too ill to be removed i presume he was rather glad to get rid of such an encumbrance so he went back to his lodgings at st kilda which judging from the landlady's story he must have occupied for some time while rosanna moore was drinking herself to death in a quiet hotel still he does not break off his connection with the dying woman but one night is murdered in a handsome cab and that same night rosanna moore dies so from all appearances everything is ended not so for before dying rosanna sends for brian fitzgerald at his club and reveals to him a secret which he locks up in his own heart the writer of this letter has a theory a fanciful one if you will that the secret told to brian fitzgerald contains the mystery of oliver white's death now then have i not found out a good deal without you and do you still decline to reveal the rest i do not say you know who killed white but i do say you know sufficient to lead to the detection of the murderer if you tell me so much the better both for your own sense of justice and for your peace of mind if you do not well i shall find out without you i have taken and still take a great interest in this strange case and i have sworn to bring the murderer to justice so i make this last appeal to you to tell me what you know if you refuse i will set to work to find out all about rosanna more prior to her departure from australia in eighteen fifty eight and i am certain sooner or later to discover the secret which led to white's murder If there is any strong reason why it should be kept silent, I perhaps will come round to your view and let the matter drop.

But if I have to find it out myself, the murderer of Oliver White need expect no mercy at my hands. So think over what I have said. If I do not hear from you within the next week, I shall regard your decision as final, and pursue the search myself. I am sure, my dear Fitzgerald, you will find this letter too long, in spite of the interesting story it contains, so I will have pity on you and draw to a close. me to Miss Freddleby and to her father. With kind regards to yourself, I remain, yours very truly, Duncan Calton. When Fitzgerald had finished the last of the closely written sheets, he let the letter fall from his hands, and, leading back in his chair, stared blankly into the dawning light outside. He arose after a few moments, and pouring himself out a glass of brandy, drank it quickly. Then, mechanically lighting a cigar, he stepped out of the door into the fresh

beauty of the dawn. There was a soft crimson glow in the east. which announced the approach of the sun, and he could hear the chirping of the awakening birds in the trees. But Brian did not see the marvellous breaking of the dawn. He stood staring at the red light flaring in the east, and thinking of Calton's letter. "'I can do no more,' he said bitterly, leaning his head against the wall of the house. "'There is only one way of stopping Calton, and that is by telling him all. "'My poor Madge! My poor Madge!' A soft wind arose and rustled among the trees, and there appeared great shafts of crimson

light in the east. Then, with a sudden blaze, the sun peered over the brim of the wide plain. The warm yellow rays touched lightly the comely head of the weary man, and turning round he held up his arms to the great luminary, as though he were a fire-worshipper. I accept the omen of the dawn, he cried, for her life and for mine. End of Chapter 24, read by Sabella Denton. For more free audiobooks or to volunteer, please visit Librevox.org. Chapter 25 of Mystery of a Handsome Cab by Fergus Hume Read for Libravox.org into the public domain.

What Dr. Chinston said His resolution taken, Brian did not let the grass grow under his feet, but rode over in the afternoon to tell Madge of his intended departure. The servant told him she was in the garden, so he went there, and guided by the sound of merry voices, and the laughter of pretty women, soon found his way to the lawn tennis ground. Madge and her guests were there,

seated under the shade of a great witch elm, and watching with great interest a single-handed match being played between Ralliston and Peterson, both of whom were capital players. Mr. Fredleby was not present. He was inside writing letters, and talking with old Mr. Valpy, and Brian gave a sigh of relief as he noted as absence. Mudge caught sight of him as he came down the garden path, and flew quickly towards him with outstretched hands, as he took his hat off. How good of you to come, she said in a delighted tone, as she took his arm, and on such a hot day. yes it's something fearful in this shade said pretty mrs rolliston with a laugh putting up her sunshade pardon me if i think the contrary replied fitzgerald bowing with an expressive look at the charming group of ladies under the great tree mrs rolliston blushed and shook her head ah it's easy to see you came from ireland mr fitzgerald she observed as she resumed her seat you are making madge jealous so he is answered madge with a gay laugh i shall certainly inform mr rolliston about you brian if you make these gallant remarks

here he comes then said her lover as raliston and peterson having finished their game walked off the tennis ground and joined the group under the tree though in tennis flannels they both looked remarkably warm and throwing aside his racket mr rollison sat down with a sigh of relief thank goodness it's over and that i've won he said wiping his heated brow galle slaves couldn't have worked harder than we have done while all you idle folks sat sub tegamy foggy which means asked his wife lazily The onlookers see most of the game, answered her husband impudently. I suppose that's what you call a free and easy translation, said Peterson, laughing. Mrs. Rolliston ought to give you something for your new and original adaptation of Virgil. Let it be iced, then, retorted Rolliston, lying full length on the ground, and staring up at the blue of the sky as seen through the network of leaves. I always like my something iced.

It's a way you've got, said Madge, with a laugh as she gave him a glass filled with some sparkling, golden-colored liquor, with a lump of eyes clinging musically against the side of it. He's not the only one who's got that way, said Peterson gaily, when he had been similarly supplied. It's a way we've got in the Army, it's a way we've got in the Navy, it's a way we've got in the varsity. And so say all of us, finished Rolliston, and holding out his glass to be replenished.

I'll have another, please. Whew, it is hot! What, the drink? asked Julia, with a giggle. No, the day, answered Felix, making a face at her. it's the kind of day one feels inclined to adopt Sidney Smith's advice by getting out of one's skin and letting the wind whistle through one's bones. With such a hot wind blowing, said Peterson gravely, I'm afraid they'd soon be broiled bones. Go, giddy one, retorted Felix, throwing his hat at him, or I'll drag you into the blazing sun and make you play another game. Not I, replied Peterson coolly, not being a salamander, I'm hardly used to your climate yet, and there is a limit even to lawn tennis.

and turning his back on Rolliston he began to talk to Julia Featherway. Meanwhile, Madge and her lover, leaving all this frivolous chatter behind them, were walking slowly towards the house, and Brian was telling her of his approaching departure, though not of its reasons for it. I received a letter last night, he said, turning his face away from her, and as it's about some important business, I must start at once. I don't think it will be long before we follow, answered Madge thoughtfully. Papa leaves here at the end of the week.

Why? I'm sure I don't know, said Madge, petulantly. He's so restless, and never seems to settle down to anything. He says, for the rest of his life he's going to do nothing but wander all over the world. There suddenly flashed across Fitzgerald's mind a line from Genesis, which seemed singularly applicable to Mr. Fredelby, a fugitive and a vagabond thou shalt be in the earth. "'Every one gets these restless fit sooner or later,' he said idly. "'In fact, with an uneasy laugh, I believe I'm in one myself.' "'That puts me in mind of what I heard Dr. Chinston say yesterday,' she said.

"'This is the age of unrest, as electricity and steam have turned us all into bohemians.' "'Ah, Bohemia is a pleasant place,' said Brian absently, unconsciously quoting Thackeray, "'but we all lose our way to it late in life.' "'At that rate we won't lose our way to it for some time,' she said, laughing, as they stepped into the drawing-room, so cool and shady after the heat and glare outside. As they entered, Mr. Fredelby rose from a chair near the window. he appeared to have been reading for he held a book in his hand what fitzgerald he exclaimed in a hearty tone as he held out his hand i am glad to see you i let you know i am living don't i replied brian his face flushing as he reluctantly took the proffered hand but the fact is i have come to say good-bye for a few days ah going back to town i suppose said mr fredelby lying back in his chair and playing with his watch-chain i don't know that you are wise exchanging the clearer air of the country for the dusty atmosphere of melbourne

yet madge tells me you are going back said brian idly toying with a vase of flowers on the table depends upon circumstances replied the other carelessly i may and i may not you go on business i presume well the fact is calton here brian stopped suddenly and bit his lip with vexation for he had not intended to mention the lawyer's name yes said mr fredelby interrogatively sitting up quickly and looking keenly at brian wants to see me on business he finished awkwardly connected with the sale of your station i suppose said fredelby still keeping his eyes on the young man's face can't have a better man calton's an excellent man of business a little too excellent replied fitzgerald ruefully he's a man who can't leave well enough alone apropos of what oh nothing answered fitzgerald hastily and just then his eyes met those of fredelby the two men looked at one another steadily for a moment but in that short space of time a single name flashed through their brains the name of rosanna moore mr Mr. Fredelby was the first to lower his eyes and break the spell. "'Ah, well,' he said lightly as he rose from his chair and held out his hand, "'if you are two weeks in town, call at St. Kilda, and it's more than likely you will find us there.' Brian shook hands in silence, and watched him pick up his hat and move on to the veranda,

and then out into the hot sunshine. "'He knows,' he muttered involuntarily. "'Nose what, sir?' said Madge, who came silently behind him and slipped her arm through his. "'That you're hungry and want something to eat before you leave us?' "'I don't feel hungry,' said Brian, as they walked towards the door. "'Nonsense,' answered Madge merrily, who, like Eve, was on hospitable thoughts and tent. "'I am not going to have you appear in Melbourne, a pale, fond lover, as though I were treating you badly.

"'Come, sir, no,' she continued, putting up her hand as he tried to kiss her. "'Business first, pleasure afterwards, and they went into the dining-room laughing.' Mark Fredelby wandered down to the lawn-tennis ground, thinking of the look he had seen in Brian's eyes. He shivered for a moment in the hot sunshine, as though it had grown suddenly chill. Someone stepping across my grave, he murmured to himself with a cynical smile. "'Bah! How superstitious I am! And yet—' He knows! He knows!' "'Come on, sir!' cried Felix, who had just caught sight of him. A racket awaits you. Fredelby awoke with a start, and found himself near the lawn-tennis ground, and Felix at his elbow

smoking a cigarette. He roused himself with a great effort, and tapped the young man lightly. on the soldier. What? He said with a forced laugh. Do you really expect me to play lawn tennis on such a day? You're mad. I'm hot, you mean, retorted the imperturbable Rawlston, blowing a wreath of smoke. That's a foregone conclusion, said Dr. Chinston, who came up at that moment.

Such a charming novel, cried Julia, who had just caught the last remark. What is? asked Peterson, rather puzzled. Howell's book, a foregone conclusion, said Julia, also looking puzzled. Weren't you talking about it? I'm afraid this talk is getting slightly. slightly incoherent, said Felix, with a sigh. We all seem madder than usual today. Speak for yourself, said Chinston indignantly. I'm as sane as any man in the world. Exactly, retorted the other coolly. That's what I say, and you, being a doctor, ought to know that

every man and woman in the world is more or less mad. Where are your facts? asked Chinston, smiling. My facts are all visible ones, said Felix, gravely pointing to the company. They're all crooked on some point or another. There was a chorus of indignant denial at this, and then everyone burst out laughing at the extraordinary way in which Mr. Rolliston was arguing. "'If you go on like that in the house,' said Fredelby amused, "'you will at all events have an entertaining Parliament.'

"'Ah, they'll never have an entertaining Parliament till they admit ladies,' observed Peterson, with a quizzical glance at Julia. "'It will be a Parliament of Love then,' retorted the Doctor dryly, and not medieval either.' "'Fredelby took the doctor's arm and walked away with him. I want you to come to my study, doctor, as they strolled towards the house, and examine me. Why, you don't feel well, said Chinston as they entered the house. Not lately, replied Freddleby. I'm afraid I've got heart disease. The doctor looked sharply at him and then shook his head.

Nonsense, he said cheerfully. It's a common delusion with people that they have heart disease, and in nine cases out of ten it's all imagination. Unless, indeed, he added, waggishly, the patient happens to be a young man. "'Ah, I suppose you think I'm safe as far as that goes,' said Fredelby as they entered the study. "'And what did you think of Rawliston's argument about people being mad?' "'It was amusing,' replied Chinston, taking a seat. "'Fredelby doing the same. "'That's all I can say about it, though, mind you, I think there are more mad people at large

than the world is aware of.' "'Indeed!' "'Yes, do you remember that horrible story of Dickens in the Pickwick Papers "'about the man who was mad and knew it, yet successfully concealed it for years?' well i believe there are many people like that in the world people whose lives are one long struggle against insanity and yet who eat drink talk and walk with the rest of their fellow-men apparently as gay and light-hearted as they are how extraordinary half the murderers and suicides are done in temporary fits of insanity went on chintin and if a person broods over anything his incipient madness is sure to break out sooner or later but of course there are cases where a perfectly sane person may commit a murder on the impulse of the moment but I regard such persons as mad for the time being. But again a murder may be planned and executed in the most cold-blooded manner.

And in the latter case, said Fredelby without looking at the doctor, and playing with a paper-knife, do you regard the murderer as mad? Yes, I do, answer the doctor bluntly. He is mad as a person who kills another because he supposes he has been told by God to do so, only there is method in his madness. For instance, I believe that handsome cab-murderer in which you were mixed up. "'I wasn't mixed up in it,' interrupted Fredelby, pale with anger. "'Beggap pardon,' said Chinston Cooley, a slip of the tongue.

"'I was thinking of Fitzgerald. "'Well, I believe that crime to have been premeditated, "'and that the man who committed it was mad. "'He is no doubt at large now, walking about and conducting himself as sanely as you or I. "'Yet the germ of insanity is there, and sooner or later he will commit another crime.' "'How do you know it was premeditated?' asked Fredelby abruptly. "'Anyone can see that,' answered the other. "'White was watched on that night,

when Fitzgerald went away the other was ready to take his place, dressed the same. "'That's nothing,' retorted Fredelby, looking at his companion sharply. "'There are dozens of men in Melbourne who wear evening dress, light coats, and soft hat. In fact, I generally wear them myself.' "'Well, that might have been a coincidence,' said the doctor, rather disconcerted, but the use of chloroform puts the question beyond a doubt. People don't usually carry chloroform about with them. "'I suppose not,' answered the other, and then the matter dropped.

Chinston made an examination of Mark Fredelby, and when he had finished, his face was very grave, though he laughed at the millionaire's fears. "'You're all right,' he said gaily. "'Action of the heart a little weak, that's all. Only impressively, avoid excitement. Avoid excitement.' Just as Fredelby was putting on his coat a knock came to the door, and Madge entered. "'Bryon is gone,' she began. "'Oh, I beg your pardon, doctor.

But is Papa ill?' she asked with sudden fear. "'No, child, no,' said Fredelby hastily. I'm all right. I thought my heart was affected, but it isn't. Not a bit of it, answered Chinston, reassuringly. All right, only avoid excitement. But when Fredleby turned to go to the door, Madge, who had her eyes fixed on the doctor's face, saw how grave it was. There is danger, she said, touching his arms. They paused for a moment at the door. No, no, he answered hastily.

Yes, there is, she persisted. Tell me the worst. It is best for me to know. The doctor looked at her in some doubt for a few moments, and then placed his hand on her shoulder. My dear young lady, he said gravely, I will tell you what I have not dared to tell your father. What? She asked in a low voice, her face growing pale. His heart is affected. And there is great danger? Yes, great danger. In the event of any sudden shock, he hesitated. Yes, he would probably drop down dead. My God! End of Chapter 25. Read by Sabella Denton. For more free audio-books or to volunteer, please visit Libravots.org. Chapter 26 of Mystery of a Handsome Cab by Fergus Hume

Read for Libravocs.org into the public domain. Kilsip has a theory of his own. Mr. Calton sat in his office reading a letter he had just received from Fitzgerald, and judging from the complacent smile upon his face it seemed to give him the greatest satisfaction. "'I know,' wrote Brian, "'that now you have taken up the affair you will not stop till you find out everything, so as I want the matter to rest as at present, I will anticipate you and reveal all.

You were right in your conjecture that I knew something likely to lead to the detection of White's murderer, but when I tell you my reasons for keeping such a thing secret, I am sure you will not blame me. Mind you, I do not say that I know who committed the murder, but I have suspicions, very strong suspicions, and I wish to God Rosanna Moore had died before she told me what she did. However, I will tell you all, and leave you to judge as to whether I was justified and concealing what I was told. I will call at your office sometime next week, and then you will learn everything that Rosanna Moore told me,

but once you are possessed of the knowledge you will pity me. "'Most extraordinary,' mused Calton, leaning back in his chair as he laid down the letter. "'I wonder if he's about to tell me that he killed White after all, and that Sal Rollins perjured herself to save him. "'No, that's nonsense, or she'd have turned up in better time "'and wouldn't have risked his neck up to the last moment. "'Though I make it a rule never to be surprised at any, anything. I expect what Brian Fitzgerald has to tell me will startle me considerably.

I've never met with such an extraordinary case, and from all appearances the end isn't reached yet. After all, said Mr. Calton thoughtfully, truth is stranger than fiction. Here a knock came to the door, and in answer to an invitation to enter, it opened, and Kilsip glided into the room. You are not engaged, sir, he said in his soft, low voice. Oh, dear no, answered Calton carelessly. Come in, come in. "'Kilip closed the door softly, and glided along in his usual velvet-footed manner, sat down in a chair near Calton's, and placing his hat on the ground, looked keenly at the barrister. "'Well, Kilsip,' said Calton, with a yawn, playing with his watch-chain,

"'any good news to tell me?' "'Well, nothing particularly new,' purred the detective, rubbing his hands together. "'Nothing new, and nothing true, and no matter,' said Calton, quoting Emerson. "'And what have you come to see me about?' "'The handsome cab-murder,' replied the other, quietly. "'The deuce!' cried Calton, startled out of his professional dignity. "'And have you found out who did it?' "'No,' answered Kilsip rather dismally.

"'But I have an idea.' "'So had Gorby,' retorted Calton dryly. "'An idea that ended in smoke. Have you any practical proofs?' "'Not yet. That means you're going to get some?' "'If possible.' "'Mut's virtue and if,' quoted Calton, picking up a pencil and scribbling idly on his blotting paper. And to whom does your suspicion point?' "'Aha!' said Mr. Kielsen.

kilsip cautiously. Don't know him, answered the other coolly. Family name humbug, I presume. Bosch! whom do you suspect? Kilsip looked round cautiously, as if to make sure they were alone, and then said in a stage whisper, Roger Morland. That was the young man that gave evidence as to how White got drunk? Kilsip nodded.

Well, and how do you connect him with the murder? Do you remember in the evidence given by the cabman, Royston and Rankin, they both swore that the man who was with White on that night wore a diamond ring on the forefinger of the right hand? What of it? Nearly every second man in Melbourne wears a diamond ring. But not on the forefinger of the right hand. Oh, and Morland wears a ring in that way? Yes. Merely a coincidence. Is that all your proof? All I can obtain at present. It's very weak, said Calton scornfully. The weakest proofs may form a chain to hang a man, observed Kilsip sententiously.

Morland gave his evidence clearly enough, said Calton, rising, and page, out of the room. He met White. They got drunk together. White went out of the hotel, and shortly afterwards Morland followed with the coat, which was left behind by White, and then someone snatched it from him. "'Ah, did they?' interrupted Kilsip quickly. "'So Morland says,' said Calton, stopping short, "'I understand. You think Morland was not so drunk as he would make out, and that after following White outside he put on his coat and got into the cab with him.' "'That is my theory.' "'It's ingenious enough,' said the barrister, "'but why should Morland murder White? What motive had he? Those papers? Shaw, another idea of Gorby, said Calton angrily.

How do you know there were any papers? The fact is, Calton did not intend Kilsip to know that White really had papers until he heard what Fitzgerald had to tell him. And another thing, said Calton, resuming his walk, if your theory is correct, which I don't think it is, what became of White's coat? Has Morland got it? No, he is not, answered the detective decisively. "'You seem very positive about it,' said the lawyer after a moment's pause. "'Did you ask Morland about it?' A reproachful look came into Kilsip's white face. "'Not quite so green,' he said, forcing a smile.

"'I thought you'd a better opinion of me than that, Mr. Calton. Ask him, no.' "'Then how did you find out?' The fact is Morland is employed as a barman in the kangaroo hotel. "'A barman?' echoed Calton, and he came out here as a gentleman of independent fortune. "'Why, hang it, man. that in itself is sufficient to prove that he had no motive to murder White.

Morland pretty well lived on White, so what could have induced him to kill his golden goose and become a barman? Pshaw, the idea is absurd! Well, you may be right about the matter, said Kilsip rather angrily, and if Gorby makes mistakes I don't pretend to be infallible. But at all events, when I saw Morland in the bar he wore a silver ring on the forefinger of his right hand. Silver isn't a diamond. No, but it shows that was the finger he was accustomed to wear his ring on. when i saw that i determined to search his room i managed to do so while he was out and found a mare's nest kilsip nodded and so your castle of cards falls to the ground said calton jestingly your idea is absurd morland no more committed the murder than i did why he was too drunk on that night to do anything "'Hhm! So he says. Well, men don't calumniate themselves for nothing. It was a lesser danger to

avoid a greater one,' replied Kilsip, coolly. I am sure that Morland was not drunk on that night. He only said so to escape awkward questions as to his movements. Depend upon it, he knows more than he lets out. Well, and how do you intend to set about the matter? I shall start looking for the coat first. Ah, you think he has hidden it? I am pretty sure of it. My theory is this. when Morland got out of the cab at Powlett Street. But he didn't, interrupted Calton angrily. Let us suppose for the sake of argument that he did, said Kilsip, quietly. I say when he left the cab he walked up Powlett Street, turned to the left down George

Street, and walked back to town through the Fitzroy Gardens. Then, knowing that the coat was noticeable, he threw it away, or rather hit it, and walked out of the gardens through the town. In evening dress, more noticeable than the coat. He wasn't in evening dress, said Kilsop quietly. "'No, neither was he,' observed Calton, eagerly, recalling the evidence of the trial. "'Another blow to your theory. The murderer was an evening-dress. The cabman said so. "'Yes, because he had seen Mr. Fitzgerald an evening dress a few minutes before,

and thought that he was the same man who got into the cab with white. "'Well, what of that?' "'If you remember, the second man had his coat buttoned up. "'Morland wore dark trousers, at least, I suppose so, "'and with the coat-buttoned up it was easy for the cabman to make the mistake, believing, as he did, that it was Mr. Fitzgerald. "'That sounds better,' said Calton thoughtfully. "'And what are you going to do?'

"'Look for the coat in the Fitzroy Gardens.' "'Peshaw! A wild goose-chase!' "'Possibly,' said Kilsip as he arose to go. "'And when shall I see you again?' said Kalton. "'Oh, to-night,' said Kilsip, pausing at the door, "'I had nearly forgotten. Mother Gutter-Snipe wants to see you.' "'Why? What's up?' "'She's dying, and wants to tell you some secret.'

"'Rosanna more, by Joe,' said Calton. "'She'll tell me something about her. I'll get to the bottom of this yet. "'All right, I'll be here at eight o'clock.' "'Very well, sir,' and the detective glided out. "'I wonder if that old woman knows anything,' said Calton to himself as he resumed his seat. She may have overheard some conversation between White and his mistress, and intends to divulge it. "'Well, I'm afraid when Fitzgerald does confess I shall know all about it beforehand.' "'Eend of Chapter 26, read by Sabella Denton.

"'For more free audiobooks, or to volunteer, please—' visit Libravox.org. Chapter 27 of Mystery of a Handsome Cab by Fergus Hume Read for Libravox.org into the public domain. Mother guttersnipe joins the majority. Punctual to his appointment, Kilship called at Calton's office at eight o'clock, in order to guide him through the squalid labyrinths of the slums. He found the barrister waiting impatiently for him.

The fact is, Calton had got it into his head that Rosanna Moore was at the bottom of the whole mystery, and every new piece of evidence he discovered went to confirm his belief. When Rosanna Moore was dying, she might have confessed something to Mother Guttersnipe, which would hint at the name of the murderer, and he had a strong suspicion that the old hag had received hushed money in order to keep quiet. Several times before, Calton had been on the point of going to her and trying to get the secret out of her, that is, if she knew it, but now fate appeared to be playing into his hands, and a voluntary confession was much more likely to be true than one dragged piecemeal from unwilling lips.

By the time Kilsip made his appearance, Kaltin was in a high state of excitement. I suppose we'd better go at once, he said to Kilsip as he let a cigar. That old hag may go off at any moment. She might, assented Kilsip doubtfully, but I wouldn't be a bit surprised if she pulled through. Some of these old women have nine lives like a cat. Not improbable, retorted Kalton as they passed into the brilliantly lighted street. her nature seemed to me to be essentially feline but tell me he went on what's the matter with her old age partly drink also i think answered kilsip besides her surroundings are not very healthy and her dissipated habits have pretty well settled her it isn't anything catching i hope cried the barrister with a shudder as they passed into the crowd of bork street don't know sir not being a doctor answered the detective stolidly oh ejaculated kowlton in dismay it will be all right sir said kilsson

up reassuringly. I've been there dozens of times, and I'm all right. I dare say, retorted the barrister, but I may go there once and catch it, whatever it is. Take my word, sir, it's nothing worse than old age and drink. Has she a doctor? Won't let one come near her, prescribes for herself. Gin, I suppose, huh, much more unpleasant than the usual run of medicines. In a short time they found themselves in Little Bork Street, and after traversing a few dark and narrow lanes, by this time they were more or less familiar. to Calton, they found themselves before Mother Guttersnive's den. They climbed the rickety stairs, which groaned and creaked beneath their weight,

and found Mother Guttersknife lying on the bed in the corner. The elfish, black-haired child was playing cards with a slatterly-looking girl at a deal-table by the faint light of a tallow candle. They both sprang to their feet as the strangers entered, and the elfish child pushed a broken chair in the sullen manner towards Mr. Calton, while the other girl shuffled into a far corner of the room and crouched down there like a dog. The noise of their entry awoke the hag from an uneasy slumber into which she had fallen. Sitting up in bed she huddled the clothes round her. She presented such a gruesome spectacle that involuntarily Kyleton recoiled. Her white hair was

unbound and hung in tangled masses over her shoulders in snowy profusion. Her face, parched and wrinkled, with the hooked nose and beady black eyes, like those of a mouse, was poked forward, and her skinny arms, bare to the shoulder, were waving wildly about as she grasped at the bedclothes with her claw-like hands. The square bottle in the broken cup lay beside her, and filling herself a dram, she lapped it up greedily. The irritant brought on a paroxysm of coughing, which lasted until the elfish child shook her well, and took the cup from her. "'Grety old beast,' muttered this amiable infant, peering into the cup, "'you'd drink the yar, dry, I believe.'

"'Yeah,' muttered the old woman feebly. "'Who's they, Lyser?' she said, shading her eyes with one trembling hand, while she looked at Calton and the detective. "'The police cove in the swell,' said Lyser suddenly. "'Come to see you turn up your toes.' "'I ain't dead yet, you whelped,' snarled the hag with sudden energy, and if I gets up I'll turn up your toes, cussia.' Lyser gave a shrill laugh of disdain, and Kilsip stepped forward.

"'None of this,' he said sharply, taking Lyser by one thin shoulder, and pushing her over to where the other girl was crouching. "'Stop there till I tell you to move.' Lyser tossed back her tangled black hair, and was about to make some impudent reply, when the other girl, who was older and wiser, put out her hand and pulled her down beside her. Meanwhile, Calton was addressing himself to the old woman in the corner. "'You wanted to see me?' he said gently, "'for notwithstanding his repugnance to her, she was, after all, a woman and dying.'

"'Yes, cusha,' croaked Mother Gutter-Snipe, lying down, and pulling the greasy bedclothes up to her neck. "'You ain't a parson,' with sudden suspicion. "'No, I'm a lawyer. "'I ain't a-going to have the cussed parsons "'a prowling around here,' growled the old woman viciously. "'I ain't a-going to die yet, cuss you. "'I'm going to get well and strong and have a good time of it.'

"'I'm afraid you won't recover,' said Calton gently. "'You had better let me send for a doctor.' "'No, I shan't,' retorted the hag, "' aiming a blow at him with all her feeble strength. "'I ain't a going to have my inside spoiled with salts and sinner. "'I don't want neither parsons nor doctors, I don't.' i wouldn't have a lawyer only i'm a-thinking of makin my will i am mind i get's the watch yelled lyzer from the corner if she gives it to sal i'll tear her eyes out silence said kilsip sharply and with a muttered curse lyzer sat back in her corner sharper than a serpent's tooth she are whined the old woman when quiet was once more restored that young devil'd have fed my home and now she turns cusser well well said calton rather impatiently what is it you wanted to see me about

don't be in such a hurry said the hag with a scowl or i'm blamed if i'll tell you anything to help me she was evidently growing very weak so calton turned to killsip and told him in a whisper to get a doctor the detective scribbled a note on some paper and giving it to lyzer ordered her to take it at this the other girl arose and putting her arm in that of the childs they left together them two young us he's gone said mother guttersstipe right you are for i don't want what i've got to tell to get into the newspaper i don't and what is it asked calton bending forward the old woman took another drink of gin and it seemed to put life into her for she sat up in the bed and commenced to talk rapidly as though she were afraid of dying before her secret was told you've been here afore she said pointing one skinny finger at calton and you wanted to find out all about her but you didn't she wouldn't let me tell for she was always a proud jade a flouncing round while her poor mother was a starvin her mother are you rosanna moore's mother cried cal "'Considably astonished. "'May I die if I ain't?' croaked the hag. "'Her poor father died a drink, cuss him, and I'm a follower in him to the same place in the same way. "'You weren't about town in the old days, or you'd have been after her, cuss you.'

"'After Rosanna? The very girl,' answered Mother Gutter-Snype. "'She were on the stage as she were, and my eye, what a swell she were, with all the coves of dying for her, and she dancing over their black arts, cuss'em. But she was always good to me till he came.' "'Who came?' ee yelled the old woman raising herself on her arm her eyes sparkling with vindictive fury e a comin around with diamonds and gold and a ruin in my poor girl and owie zeld his blooming head up all these years as if he were a saint cuss him cuss him "'Whom does she mean?' whispered Calton to Kilsip. "'Mean!' screamed Mother Guttersnip, whose sharp ears had caught the muttered question.

"'Why, Mark Freddleby!' "'Good God!' Calton rose up in his astonishment, and even Kilsip's inscrutable countenance displayed some surprise. "'Aye, ye were a swell in them days,' pursued Mother Guttersnip, "'and he comes a philand'-a-lander round my gal, cuss him, and ruins her, "'and leaves her and the child to starve like a black-hearted villain, as he were.' "'The child? Her name?' bah retorted the hag with scorn as if you didn't know my granddaughter sal sal mark fredelby's child yes and as pretty a girl as the other though she happened to be born on the wrong side of the edge oh i've seen her a sweeping along in her silks and satins as though we were dirt and sall her half-sister cusser exhausted by the efforts she had made the old woman sank back in her bed while calton sat dazed thinking over the astounding revelation that had just been made that rosanna moore should turn out to be mark fredelby's mistress he had hardly wondered at

after all the millionaire was but a man and in his young days had been no better and no worse than the rest of his friends rosanna more was pretty and was evidently one of those women who rakes at heart prefer the untrammeled freedom of being a mistress to the sedate bondage of a wife in questions of morality so many people live in glass houses that there are few nowadays who can afford to throw stones calton did not think any the worse of fredelby for his youthful follies but what did surprise him was that fredelby should be so heartless as to leave his child to the tender mercies of an old hag like mother guttersnip it was so entirely different from what he knew of the man that he was inclined to think that the old woman was playing him a trick did mark fredelby know that sal was his child he asked not ee snarled mother mother gutter-snipe, in an exultant tone. He thought she was dead, he did, after Rosanna gave him the go-by. And why did you not tell him? Because I wanted to break his heart if he had any,

said the old Beldame, vindictively. Sal was a-going wrong as fast as she could till she was took from me. If she had gone and got into quad, I'd have gone to him and said, Look at your daughter! How I ruined her as you did mine! You wicked woman! said Calton, revolted at the malignity of the scheme. You sacrificed an innocent girl for this. "'None of your preaching,' retorted the hag sullenly.

"'I ain't been brought up for a saint, I ain't, and I wanted to pay him out. He paid me well to my old tongue about my daughter, and I got it ere,' laying her hand on the pillow. All gold, good gold, and mine cussed me. Calton rose. He felt quite sick at this exhibition of human depravity, and longed to be away. As he was putting on his hat, however, the two girls entered with the doctor, who nodded to Kilsip, cast a sharp, scrutinizing glance at Kalton, and then walked over to the bed. The two girls went back to their corner and waited in silence for the end.

Mother Gutter-Snipe had fallen back in the bed, with one claw-like hand clutching the pillow as if to protect her beloved gold, and over-heard face a deathly paleness was spreading, which told the practiced eye of the doctor that the end was near. He knelt down beside the bed for a moment, holding the candle to the dying woman's face. She opened her eyes and muttered drowsily, who's you get out but then she seemed to grasp the situation again and she started up with a shrill yell which made the hearers shudder it was so weird and eerie my money she yelled clasping the pillow in her skinny arms it's all mine you shan't have it the doctor arose from his knees and shrugged his shoulders not worth while doing anything he said coolly she'll be dead soon the old woman mumbling over her pillow caught the word and burst into tears dead dead my poor rosanna with her golden hair, always loving her poor mother till he took her away, and she came back to die, die, oh. Her voice died away in a long, melancholy wail that made the two girls in the corner shiver, and put their fingers in their ears.

"'My good woman,' said the doctor, bending over the bed, "'would you not like to see a minister?' She looked at him with her bright, beady eyes, already somewhat dimmed with the mists of death, and said in a harsh, low whisper, why? "'Because you have only a short time to live,' said the doctor. doctor gently. You are dying. Mother guttersnip sprang up and seized his arm with a scream of terror. Dying, dying! No, no, she wailed, clawing his sleeve. I ain't fit to die. Cuss me. Save me, save me. I don't know where I'd go to, so help me. Save me. The doctor tried to remove her hands,

but she held on with wonderful tenacity. It is impossible, he said briefly. The hag fell back in her bed. I'll give you money to save me, she shrieked. Good money, all mine, all mine. see here ere sovereigns and tearing her pillow open she took out a canvas bag and from it poured a gleaming stream of gold gold gold it rolled all over the bed over the floor away into the dark corners yet no one touched it so enchanted were they by the horrible spectacle of the dying woman clinging to life she clutched some of the shining pieces and held them up to the three men as they stood silently beside the bed but her hands trembled so that sovereigns kept falling from them on the floor with metallic clinks "'All mine, all mine!' she shrieked loudly. "'Give me my life! Gold, money, cussie! I sold my soul for it. Save me. Give me my life!' And with trembling hands she tried to force the gold on them. They said no word, but stood silently looking at her, while the two girls in the corner

clung together and trembled with fear. "'Don't look at me, don't!' cried the hag, falling down again amid the shining gold. "'You want me to die! I shan't! I shan't! Give me my gold!' clawing at the scattered sovereigns i'll take it with me a shan't die god god whimpering i ain't done nothin let me live give me a bible save me god cuss it god god she fell back on the bed a corpse the faint light of the candle flickered on the shining gold and on the dead face framed in tangled white hair while the three men sick at heart turned away in silence to seek assistance with that wild cry still ringing in their ears god save me God. End of Chapter 27, read by Sabella Denton. For more free audiobooks or to volunteer, please visit Libravox.org. Chapter 28 of Mystery of a Handsome Cat by Fergus Hume, read for Libravox.org into the public domain.

Mark Fredelby has a visitor. According to the copy-books of our youth, procrastination is the thief of time. Now, Brian frowned the truth of this. He had been in town almost a week, but he had not yet been to see Calton. Each morning, or something very near it, he set out, determined to go direct to Chancery Lane, but he never arrived there. He had returned to his lodgings in East Melbourne, and had passed his time either in the house or in the garden. When perhaps business connected with the sale of his station compelled his presence in town, he drove straight there and back. Curiously enough, he shrank from meeting any of his friends. He felt keenly his recent position in the prisoner's dock. And even when walking by the yard,

as he frequently did, he was conscious of an uneasy feeling, a feeling that he was an object of curiosity, and that people turned to look at him out of a morbid desire to see one who had been so nearly hanged for murder. As soon as his station should be sold, and he married to Madge, he determined to leave Australia, and never set foot on it again. But until he could leave the place he would see no one, nor would he mix with his former friends, so great was his dread of being stared at. Mrs. Sampson, who had welcomed him back, was shrewd. real exclamations of delight, was loud in her expressions of disapproval as to the way he was shutting himself up.

"'Your eyes be an alo,' said the sympathizing cricket. "'It is natural, it's one of air, which my husband's uncle, being a druggist, and well-to-do in Collingwood, sees thou a one of oxygen, being a French name, as he called the atmosphere, were fearful for pulling people down, and making them go off their food, which you hardly eats anything, and not being a butterfly, it's expected as your appetite would be large "'Oh, I'm all right,' said Brian, absently lighting a cigarette, and only half listening to his landlady's garrulous tratter, but if anyone calls tell them I'm not in. I don't want to be bothered by visitors. "'Been as wise a thing as Solomon ever said,' answered Mrs. Sampson, energetically,

which no doubt he was in good health when seeing the Queen of Sheber as necessary when anyone calls, and not feel indisposed to speak, which I'm often that way myself on occasions, my spirits being low, as I've heard soda-water to have that effect on them, which you takes it with a dash of brandy, though to be sure that might be the cause of your want of life, and drop that bell, she finished, hurrying out of the room as the front door-bell sounded, which my legs is a given way under me through being overworked. Meanwhile, Brian sat and smoked contentedly, much relieved by the departure of Mrs. Sampson, with her constant chatter, but he soon heard her mount the stairs again,

and she entered the room with a telegram, which she handed to her lodger. "'Open it don't contain bad news,' she said as she retreated to the door again, "'which I don't like him having had a shock in early light, "'through one avon come unexpected, as my uncle's grandfather were dead, "'Avon perish of consumption, our family all being disposed to the disease, "'and now if you'll excuse me, sir, I'll get to my dinner, "'being in the abbot of taking my meals regular,

"'and I studies my inside carefully, being easily upset, "'through which I never could be a sailor. Mrs. Sampson, having at last exhausted herself, went out of the room, and crackled loudly down the stairs, leaving Brian to read his telegram. He tore open the envelope and found the message was from Madge to say that they had returned, and to ask him to dine with them that evening. Fitzgerald folded up the telegram, then, rising from his seat, he walked moodily up and down the room with his hands in his pockets. "'So he is there,' said the young man aloud,

"'and I shall have to meet him and shake hands with him, knowing all the time what he is. If it were not for Madge, I'd leave this place at once, but after the way she stood by me in my trouble, I should be a coward if I did so. It was, as Madge had predicted. Her father was unable to stay long in one place, and had come back to Melbourne a week after Brian had arrived. The pleasant party at the station was broken up, and like the graves of a household, the guests were scattered far and wide. Peterson had left for New Zealand en route for the wonders of the hot lakes and the old colonist was about to start for england in order to refresh his boyish memories mr and mrs raliston had come back to melbourne where the wretched felix was compelled once more to plunge into politics and dr chinston had resumed his usual routine of fees and patients madge was glad to be back in melbourne again as now that her health was restored she craved for the excitement of town life it was now more than three months since the murder and the nine days wonder was a thing of the past

the possibility of a war with russia was the one absorbing topic of the hour and the colonists were busy preparing for the attack of a possible enemy as the spanish kings had drawn their treasures from mexico and peru so might the white czar lay violent hands on the golden stores of australia but here there were no uncultured savages to face but the sons and grandsons of men who had dimmed the glories of the russian arms at alma and balaclava so in the midst of stormy rumors of wars the tragic fate of oliver white was quite forgotten after the trial every one including the detective office had given up the matter and mentally relegated it to the list of undiscovered crimes in spite of the utmost vigilance nothing new had been discovered and it seemed likely that the assassin of oliver white would remain a free man there were only two people in melbourne who still held the contrary opinion and they were calton and kiltsip both these men had sworn to discover this unknown murderer who struck his cowardly blow in the dark and though there seemed no possible chance of success yet they worked on kilsip suspected roger morland the boon companion of the dead man but his suspicions were vague and uncertain and there seemed little hope of verifying them the barrister did not as yet suspect any particular person though the death-bed confession of mother guttersnipe had thrown a new light on the subject but he thought that when fitzgerald told him the secret which rosanna moore had confided to his keeping the real murderer would soon be discovered or at least some clue would be found that would lead to his detection so as the matter stood at the time of mark fredelby's return to melbourne mr calton was waiting for fitzgerald's confession before making a move while kilsip worked stealthily in the dark searching for evidence against morland on receiving madge's telegram brian determined to go down in the evening but not to dinner so he sent a reply to madge to that effect he did not want to meet mark fredelby but did not of course tell this to madge so she had her dinner by herself as her father had gone to his club and the time of his return was uncertain

after dinner she wrapped a light cloak round her and repaired to the veranda to wait for her lover the garden looked charming in the moonlight with the black dense cypress trees standing up against the sky and the great fountain splashing cool and silvery There was a heavily foliageed oak by the gate, and she strolled down the path and stood under it in the shadow, listening to the whisper and rustle of its multitudinous leaves. It is curious the unearthly glamour which moonlight seems to throw over everything, and though Madge knew every flower, tree, and shrub in the garden, yet they all looked weird and fantastical in the cold white light. She went up to the fountain, and, seating herself on the edge, amused herself by dipping her hand into the chilly water, and letting it fall like silver rain back into the basin.

Then she heard the iron gate open and shut with a clash, and springing to her feet, saw someone coming up the path in a light coat and soft, wide-away cat. "'Oh, it's you at last, Brian,' she cried as she ran down the path to meet him. "'Why did you not come before?' "'Not being Brian, I can't say,' answered her father's voice. Madge burst out laughing. "'What an absurd mistake!' she cried.

"'Why, I thought you were Brian.' "'Indeed.' "'Yes, and that happened.' "'Man and Cota couldn't tell the difference in the moonlight.' "'Oh,' said her father, with a laugh, pushing his hat back, "'moonlight is necessary to complete the spell, I suppose.' "'Of course,' answered his daughter, "'if there were no moonlight, alas for lovers!'

"'Alas, indeed!' echoed her father. "'They would become as extinct as the Moa. "'But where are your eyes, puss, when you take an old man like me "'for your gay young Lachinvar?' "'Well, really, papa,' answered Madge deprecatingly, "'you do look so like him in that coat and hat "'that I could not tell the difference till you spoke.' nonsense child said fredelby roughly you are fanciful and turning on his heel he walked rapidly towards the house leaving madge staring after him in astonishment as well she might for her father had never spoken to her so roughly before

wondering at the cause of his sudden anger she stood spellbound until there came a step behind her and a soft low whistle she turned with a scream and saw brian smiling at her oh it's you she said with a pout as he caught her in his arms and kissed her only me said brian ungrammatically disappointing isn't it oh fearfully answered the girl with a gay laugh as arm in arm they walked towards the house but do you know i made such a curious mistake just now i thought papa was you how strange said brian absently for indeed he was admiring her charming face which looked so pure and sweet in the moonlight yes wasn't it she replied he had on a light coat and a soft hat just like you wear sometimes and as you are both the same height i took you for one another Brian did not answer, but there was a cold feeling at his heart, as he saw a possibility of his worst suspicions being confirmed, for just at that moment there came into his mind the curious coincidence of the man who got into the handsome cab being dressed similarly to himself. What if—nonsense, he said aloud, rousing himself out of the train of thought the resemblance had suggested.

"'I'm sure it isn't,' said Madge, who had been talking about something else for the last five minutes. "'You are a very rude young man.' "'I beg your pardon,' said Brian. waking up. You were saying, that the horse is the most noble of all animals, exactly. I don't understand,' began Brian, rather puzzled. "'Of course you don't,' interrupted Madge petulantly, considering I've been wasting my eloquence on a deaf man for the last ten minutes, and very likely lame as well as deaf.

And to prove the truth of the remark she ran up the path with Brian after her. He had a long chase of it, for Madge was nimble and better acquainted with the garden than he was, but at last he caught her just as she was running up the steps into the house. and then history repeats itself they went into the drawing-room and found that mr fredelby had gone up to his study and did not want to be disturbed madge sat down to the piano but before she struck a note brian took both her hands prisoners madge he said gravely as she turned round what did your father say when you made that mistake he was very angry she answered quite cross i'm sure i don't know why brian sighed as he released her hands and was about to reply when the visitor's bell sounded they heard the story the story when the visitor's bell sounded they heard the story and he said as he released her hands and was about to reply when the visitors bell sounded they heard the servants answer it, and then someone was taken upstairs to Mr. Fredelby's study. When the coachman came in to light the gas, Madge asked who it was that had come to the door. "'I don't know, Miss,' he answered,

"'but he said he wanted to see Mr. Fredelby particularly, so I took him up to the study. But I thought Papa said he was not to be disturbed. Yes, Miss, but the gentleman had an appointment with him. Poor Papa!' sighed Madge, turning again to the piano. He has always got such a lot to do. Left to themselves, Madge began playing Waltefell's last new Valsa, a dreamy, haunting melody, with a touch of sadness in it, and Brian, lying lazily on the sofa, listened. Then she sang a gay little French song about love and a butterfly, with a mocking refrain,

which made Brian laugh. "'A memory of Offenbach,' he said, rising and coming over to the piano. "'We certainly can't reproach the French in writing these airy trifles.' "'They're unsatisfactory, I think,' said Madge, running her fingers over the keys. "'They mean nothing.' "'Of course not,' he replied, "'but don't you remember that De Quincey says "'there is no moral either big or little in the Iliad?'

"'Well, I think there's more music in Barbara Allen "'than all those frothy things,' said Madge with fine scorn. "'Come and sing it.' "'A five-act funeral it is,' groaned Brian, as he rose to obey. "'Let's have Gary Owen instead.' "'Nothing else, however, would suit the capricious young person at the piano. "'So Brian, who had a pleasant voice, "'sang the quaint old ditty of cruel Barbara Alice,

who treated her dying love with such disdain sir john graham was an ass said brian when he had finished or instead of dying in such a silly manner he'd have married her right off without asking her permission i don't think she was worth marrying replied madge opening a book of mendelssohn's duets or she wouldn't have made such a fuss over her health not being drunk depend upon it she was a plain woman remarked brian gravely and was angry because she wasn't toasted among the rest of the country bells i think the young man had a narrow escape she'd always have reminded him about that unfortunate oversight you seem to have analysed her nature pretty well said madge a little dryly however we'll leave the failings of barbara allen alone and seeing this-i but-you seem to have analysed her nature pretty well said madge a little dryly however we'll leave the failings of barbara allen alone and seeing this This was Mendelssohn's charming duet, Wood That My Love, which was a great favorite of Bryan's. They were in the middle of it when suddenly Madge stopped, as she heard a loud cry, evidently proceeding from her father's study. Recollecting Dr. Chinson's warning, she ran out of the room and upstairs, leaving Brian rather puzzled by her unceremonious departure, for though he had heard the cry, yet he did not attach much importance to it.

Madge knocked at the study door, and then she tried to open it, but it was locked. who's there asked her father sharply from inside only me papa she answered i thought you were no no i'm all right replied her father quickly go downstairs i'll join you shortly madge went back to the drawing-room only half satisfied with the explanation she found brian waiting at the door with rather an anxious face what's the matter he asked as she paused a moment at the foot of the stairs papa says nothing she replied but i am sure he must have been startled or he would not have cried out like that she told him what dr chinston had said about the state of her father's heart a recital which shocked bryan greatly they did not return to the drawing-room but went out on the veranda where after wrapping a cloak around madge fitzgerald lit a cigarette they sat down at the far end of the verandah somewhat in the shadow and could see the hall door wide open and a warm flood of mellow light pouring therefrom and beyond the cold white moonshine after about a quarter of an hour madge's alarm about her father having somewhat subsided they were chatting on in different subjects when a man came out of the hall door and paused for a moment on the steps of the veranda he was dressed in rather a fashionable suit of clothes but in spite of the heat of the night he had a thick white silk scarf round his throat that's rather a cool individual said brian removing his cigarette from between his lips i wonder what good god he cried rising to his feet as the stranger turned round to look at the house and took off his hat for a moment roger morland the man started and looked quickly round and looked quickly round and he cried and he cried rising to his feet as the stranger turned round to look at the house and he looked quickly round and he looked quickly round into the dark shadow of the veranda where they were seated, then, putting on his hat,

he ran quickly down the path, and they heard the gate clang after him. Madge felt a sudden fear at the expression on Brian's face, as revealed by a ray of moonlight streaming full on it. "'Who is Roger Morland?' she asked, touching his arm. "'Ah, I remember,' with sudden horror, Oliver White's friend. "'Yes,' in a hoarse whisper, and one of the witnesses at the trial. End of Chapter 28, read by Sabella Denton. For more free audiobooks or to volunteer, please visit Librevox.org.

Chapter 29 of Mystery of a Handsome Cab by Fergus Hume. Read for Libravox.org into the public domain. Mr. Calton's curiosity is satisfied. There was not much sleep for Brian that night. He left Madge almost immediately and went home, but he did not go to bed. He felt too anxious and ill at ease to sleep, and passed the greater part of of the night, walking up and down his room, occupied with his own sad thoughts. He was wondering in his own mind what could be the meaning of Roger Morland's visit to Mark

Fretelby. All the evidence that he had given at the trial was that he had met White, and had been drinking with him during the evening. White then went out, and that was the last Morland had seen of him. Now the question was, what did he go to see Mark Fretleby for? He had no acquaintance with him, and yet called by appointment. It is true that he might have been in poverty, and the millionaire, being well known as an extremely generous man, Morland might have called on him for money. But then the cry which Fredlby had given after the interview had lasted a short time proved that he had been startled. Madge had gone upstairs and found the door locked, her father refusing her admission. Now why was he so anxious Morland should not be seen by anyone, that he had

made some startling revelation was certain, and Fitzgerald felt sure that it was in connection with the handsome cab murder case. He wearied himself with conjectures about the matter, and towards daybreak, threw himself, dressed as he was on the bed, and slept heavily till twelve o'clock the next day. When he arose and looked at himself in the glass, he was startled at the haggard and worn appearance of his face. The moment he was awake his mind went back to Mark Friddleby and the visit of Roger Moreland. The net is closing round him, he murdered to himself. I don't see how he can escape. Oh, Madge, Madge, if only I could spare you the bitterness of knowing what you must know sooner or later, and that other unhappy girl.

The sins of the fathers will be visited on the children. God help them. He took his bath, and after dressing himself, went into his sitting-room, where he had a cup of tea, which refreshed him considerably. Mrs. Sampson came crackling merrily upstairs with a letter, and gave vent to an exclamation of surprise on seeing his altered appearance. "'Lor, sir,' she exclaimed, "'what have you been a-doing? Me knowing your abbotts, as you'd gone to bed, not to say as it's very tempting in this hot weather, but with excuses, sir, you looks as if you hadn't slept a blessed wink. No more have I, said Brian, listlessly holding out his hand for the letter.

I was walking up and down my room all last night. I must have walked miles. Ah, how that puts me in mind of my poor husband, chirped the cricket, being a printer, and a custom like a howl to the darkness. When he was owned for the night he walked up and down until he wore out the carpet, being an expensive one, as I add on my marriage, and the only way I could stop him was by giving him something soothing, which you, sir, ought to try. Whiskey, hot, with lemon and sugar, but I've heard tell his chloroform. No, damn it, said Brian hastily, startled out of his politeness. I've had enough of that. Aking teeth, no doubt, said the landlady, going to the door, which I'm often taken that way

myself, decayed teeth running in the family, though to be sure mine are stronger than former, a lodger of mine having been a dentist and doing them beautiful instead of pay and rent, not having ready cash, his boxes being filled with bricks on his departure from the house. As Brian did not appear particularly interested in these domestic reminiscences, and seemed as if he wanted to be left alone, Mrs. Samson, with a final crackle, went downstairs and talked with a neighbor in the kitchen, as to the desirability of drawing her money out of the savings bank, in case the Russians should surprise and capture Melbourne.

Brian, left alone, stared out of the window at the dusty road, and the black shadows cast by the tall poplars in front of the house. "'I must leave this place,' he said to himself. "'Every chance remark seems to bear on the murder, and I'm not anxious to have it constantly, by my side, like a skeleton at the feast. Suddenly he recollected the letter which he held in his hand, and which he now looked at for the first time. It proved to be from Madge, and tearing it open hastily, he read,

"'I cannot understand what is the matter with Papa,' she wrote. Ever since that man Moreland left last night, he has shut himself up in his study, and is riding there hour after hour. I went up this morning, but he would not let me in. He did not come down to breakfast, and I am getting seriously alarmed. Come down to-morrow and see me, for I am anxious about his state of health, and I am sure that Morland told him something which has upset him. "'Wriding,' said Brian, as he put the letter in his pocket.

"'What about, I wonder? Perhaps he is thinking of committing suicide.' "'If so, I for one, will not stop him. It is a horrible thing to do, but it would be acting for the best under the circumstances. In spite of his determination to see Calton and tell all, Fitzgerald did not go near him that day. He felt ill and weary, the want of sleep and mental worry, telling on him terribly, and he looked ten years older than he did before the murder of White. It is trouble which draws lines on the smooth forehead and furrows round the mouth.

If a man has any mental worry, his life becomes a positive agony to him. mental tortures are quite as bad as physical ones, if not worse. The last thing before dropping off to sleep is the thought of trouble, and with the first faint light of dawn it returns and hammers all day at the weary brain. But while a man can sleep, life is rendered at least endurable, and of all the blessings which Providence has bestowed, there is none so precious as that same sleep, which, as wise Sancho Panza says, wraps every man like a cloak.

Brian felt the need of rest, so sending a telegram to Calton, to call on him in the morning, and another to madge that he would be down to luncheon next day, he stayed indoors all day, and amused himself with smoking and reading. He went to bed early, and succeeded in having a sound sleep, so when he awoke next morning he felt considerably refreshed and invigorated. He was having his breakfast at half-past eight when he heard the sound of wheels, and immediately afterwards a ring at the bell. He went to the window and saw Calton's trap was at the door.

The owner was shortly afterwards shone into the room. "'Well, you are a nice fellow,' cried Calton, after greetings were over. "'Here I've been waiting for you with all the patrons of Job, thinking you were still up-country.' "'Will you have some breakfast?' asked Brian, laughing at his indignation. "'What have you got?' said Calton, looking over the table. "'Ham and eggs. "'Hemn't your landlady's culinary ideas are very limited.' "'Most landlady's ideas are,' retorted Fitzgerald, resuming his breakfast.

"'Unless Heaven invents some new animal, lodgers will go on getting beef and mutton, alternated with hash until the end of the world. When one is in Rome, one mustn't speak ill of the Pope, answered Calton with a grimace. Do you think your landlady could supply me with brandy and soda? I think so, answered Fitzgerald, rising and ringing the bell, but isn't it rather early for that sort of thing? There's a proverb about glass houses, said Calton severely, which applies to you in this particular instance.

Whereupon Fitzgerald laughed, and Calton, having been supplied with what he required, prepared to talk business. "'I need hardly tell you how anxious I am to hear what you've got to say,' he said, leaning back in his chair. "'But I may as well tell you that I am satisfied that I know half of your secret already.' "'Indeed!' Fitzgerald looked astonished. "'In that case I need not—' "'Yes, you need,' retorted Calton. "'I told you I only know half.' "'Which half?'

"'Hem. Rather difficult to answer. "'However, I'll tell you what I know, and you can supply all deficiencies. "'I am quite ready. Go on. Stop.' He arose and closed the door carefully. "'Well,' resuming a seat, "'mother Guttersnipe died the other night. "'Is she dead?' "'As a door-nail, answered Calton calmly,

"'and a horrible death-bed it was. "'Her screams ring in my ears yet. "'But before she died she sent for me and said, "'What? "'That she was the mother of Rosanna Moore. "'Yes? "'And that Sal Rollins was Rosanna's child. "'And the father,' said Brian in a low voice,

"'was Mark Fredelby. "'Ah!' "'And now what have you to tell me?' "'Nothing! "'Nothing!' echoed Calton, surprised. "'Then this is what Rosanna Moore told you when she died?' "'Yes.' "'Then why have you made such a mystery about it?'

"'You asked that?' said Fitzgerald, looking up in surprise. "'If I had told it, don't you see what a difference it would have made to match?' "'I'm sure I don't,' retorted the barrister, completely mystified. "'I suppose you mean Fredelby's connection with Rosanna Moore. "'Well, of course, it was not a very creditable thing for her to have been Fredelby's mistress, but still—' "'His mistress,' said Fitzgerald, looking up sharply. "'Then you don't know all.'

"'What do you mean? Was she not his mistress?' "'No, his wife.' Calton sprang to his feet and gave a cry of surprise. "'His wife?' Fitzgerald nodded. "'Why, Mother Guttersnip did not know this. She thought Rosanna was his mistress.' "'He kept his marriage secret,' answered Brian, and as his wife ran away with someone else shortly afterwards,

he never revealed it. "'I understand now,' said the barrister slowly. for if mark fredelby was lawfully married to rosanna moore madge is illegitimate yes and she now occupies the place which sal ralins or rather sal fredelby ought to poor girl said calton a little sadly but all this does not explain the mystery of white's murder i will tell you that said fitzgerald quickly when rosanna left her husband she ran away to england with some young fellow and when he got tired of her she returned to the stage and became famous as a burlesque actress under the name of musette there she met white as your friend found out and they came out here for the purpose of extorting money from fredelby when they arrived in melbourne rosanna let white do all the business and kept herself quiet she gave her marriage certificate to white and he had it on him the night he was murdered then gorby was right interposed calton eagerly the man to whom those papers were valuable did murder white can you doubt it and that man was not mark fredelby burst out calton surely not mark fredelby brian nodded yes mark fredelby there was a silence for a few moments calton being too much startled by the revelation to say anything when did you discover this he asked after a pause at the time you first came to see me in prison said brian i had no suspicion till then but when you said that white was murdered for the sake of certain papers i knowing full well what they were and to whom they were of value guessed immediately that fredelby had killed white in order to obtain them and to keep his secret

There can be no doubt of it, said the barrister with a sigh. So this is the reason Fredelby wanted Madge to marry White. Her hand was to be the price of his silence. When he withdrew his consent, White threatened him with exposure. I remember he left the house in a very excited state on the night he was murdered. Fredelby must have followed him up to town, got into the cab with him, and after killing him with chloroform, must have taken the marriage certificate from his secret pocket and escaped. Brian rose to his feet and walked rapidly up and down the room.

Now you can understand what a hell my life has been for the last few months, he said, knowing that he had committed the crime, and yet I had to sit with him, eat with him, and drink with him, with the knowledge that he was a murderer, and Madge, Madge, his daughter— Just then a knock came to his door, and Mrs. Sampson entered it with a telegram, which she handed to Brian. He tore it open as she withdrew, and, glancing over it, gave a cry of horror, and let it flutter to his feet. Calton turned rapidly on hearing his cry, and seeing him fall into a chair with a white face, snatched up the telegram and read it.

When he did so, his face grew as pale and startled as Fitzgerald's, and lifting his hand, he said solemnly, It is the judgment of God. End of Chapter 29, read by Sabella Denton. For more free audiobooks or to volunteer, please visit Librebox.org. Chapter 30 of Mystery of a Handsome Cab by Fergus Hume. Read for Libravox.org into the public domain. Nemesis Men, according to the old Greek, are the sport of the gods, who, enthroned on high Olympus,

put evil desires into the hearts of mortals, and when evil actions were the outcome of evil thoughts, amused themselves by watching the ineffectual efforts made by their victims to escape a relentless deity called Nemesis, who exacted a penalty for their evil deeds. It was no doubt very amusing, to the gods, but it is questionable if the men found it so. They had their revenge, however, for weary of plaguing puny mortals, who whimpered and cried when they saw how they could not escape. The inevitable nemesis turned her attention from actors to spectators, and made a clean sweep of the whole Olympian hierarchy. She smashed their altars, pulled down their statues, and after she had completed her malicious work, found that she had, vulgarly speaking, been cutting off her nose despite her face,

for she, too, became an object of derision and of disbelief, and was forced to retire, to the same obscurity to which she had relegated the other deities. But men found out that she had not been altogether useless as a scapegoat upon which to lay the blame of their own shortcomings, so they created a new deity called fate, and laid any misfortune which happened to them to her charge. Her worship is still very popular, especially among lazy and unlucky people, who never bestir themselves, on the ground that whether they do so or not, their lives are already settled by fate. After all, the true religion of fate has been preached by George Elliot, when she says that our lives are the outcome of our actions. Set up any idol you please upon which to lay the blame of

unhappy lives and baffled ambitions, but the true cause is to be found in men themselves. Every action, good or bad, which we do, has its corresponding reward, and Mark Fredelby found it so, for the sins of his youth were now being punished in his old age. No doubt he had sinned gaily enough in that far-off time when Life's Cup was still brimming with wine, and no asp hid among the roses, but Nemesis had been an unseen spectator of all his thoughtless actions, and now she came to demand her just dues. He felt somewhat as Faust must have felt when Mephistopheles suggested a visit to Hades, in repayment of those years of magic youth and magic power. So long ago it seemed since he had married Rosanna Moore, that he almost

persuaded himself that it had only been a dream, a pleasant dream with a disagreeable awakening. When she had left him he had tried to forget her, recognizing how unworthy she was of a good man's love. He heard that she had died in a London hospital, and with a passionate sigh for a perished love he had dismissed her from his thoughts forever. His second marriage had turned out a happy one, and he regretted the death of his wife deeply. Afterwards all his love centered in his daughter, and he thought he would be able to spend his declining years in peace. This, however, was not to be, and he was thunderstruck when White arrived from England with the information that his first wife still lived, and that the daughter of his second was

illegitimate. Sooner than risk exposure, Fredelby agreed to anything, but White's demands became too exorbitant, and he refused to comply with them. On White's death he again breathed freely, when suddenly a second possessor of his fatal secrets darted up in the person of Roger Morland. As the murder of Duncan had to be followed by that of Banquo in order to render Macbeth's safe, so he foresaw that while Roger Morland lived, his life would be one long misery. He knew that the friend of the murdered man would be his master, and would never leave him during his life, while after his death he would probably publish the whole ghastly story, and defame the memory of the widely respected Mark Fretelby. What is it that Shakespeare says? Good name in man or woman

is the immediate jewel of their souls. And after all these years of spotless living, in generous use of his wealth, was he to be dragged down to the depths of infamy and degradation by a man like Morland? Already in fancy he heard the jeering cries of his fellow men, and saw the finger of scorn point at him. He, the great Mark Fredelby, famous throughout Australia for his honesty, integrity, and generosity.

No, it could not be, and yet this would surely happen unless he took means to prevent it. The day after he had seen Morland, and knew that his secret was no longer safe, since it was in the power of a man who might reveal it at any moment in a drunken fit, or out of sheer maliciousness, he sat at his desk writing. After a time he laid down his pen, and taking up a portrait of his dead wife which stood just in front of him, he stared at it long and earnestly. As he did so, his mind went back to the time when he had first met and loved her. Even as Faust had entered into the purity and serenity of Gretchen's chamber,

out of the coarseness and profligacy of Ourbox cellar, so he, leaving behind him the wild life of his youth, had entered into the peace and quiet of a domestic home. The old feverish life with Rosanna Moore seemed to be as unsubstantial and chimerical, as no doubt his union with Lilith, after he meant Eve, seemed to Adam in the old rabbinical legend. There seemed to be only one way open to him,

by which he could escape the relentless fate which dogged his steps. He would write a confession of everything, from the time he had first met Rosanna, and then death. He would cut the Gordian knot of all his difficulties, and then his secret would be safe. Safe? No, it could not be while Morland lived. When he was dead, Morland would see Madge and embitter her life with the story of her father's sins. Yes, he must live to protect her, and drag his weary chain of bitter remembrance through life, always with that terrible sword of Democles hanging over him. But still he would write out his confession, and after his death, whenever he would,

it may happen, it might help, if not altogether to exculpate, at least to secure some pity for a man who had been hardly dealt with by fate. His resolution taken, he put it into force at once, and sat all day at his desk filling page after page with the history of his past life, which was so bitter to him. He started at first languidly, and as in the performance of an unpleasant but necessary duty. Soon, however, he became interested in it, and took a peculiar pleasure in putting down every minute circumstance which made the case stronger against himself. He dealt with it not as a criminal, but as prosecutor, and painted his conduct as much blacker than it had really been. Towards the end of the day, however, after reading over the earlier sheets,

he experienced a revulsion of feeling, seeing how severe he had been on himself, so he wrote a defense of his conduct, showing that fate had been too strong for him. It was a weak argument to bring forward, but still he felt it was the only one that he could make. It was quite dark when he had finished, and while sitting in the twilight, looking dreamily at the sheets scattered all over his desk, he heard a knock at the door, and his daughter's voice asking if he was coming to dinner. All day long he had closed his door against everyone, but now his task being ended, he collected all the closely written sheets together, placed them in a drawer of his eschattois, which he locked, and then opened the door.

"'Dear Papa!' cried Madge, as she entered rapidly, and threw her arms around his neck, "'What have you been doing here all day by yourself?' "'Wriding,' returned her father, laconically, as he gently removed her arms. "'Why, I thought you were ill,' she answered, looking at him apprehensively. "'No, dear,' he replied quietly, "'not ill, but worried. "'I knew that dreadful man who came last night had told you something to worry you. "'Who is he?' "'Oh, a friend of mine,' answered Fredelby with hesitation.

"'What? Roger Morland?' her father started. "'How do you know it was Roger Morland?' "'Oh, Brian. and recognized him as he went out. Mark Fredelby hesitated for a few moments, then busied himself with the papers on his desk, as he replied in a low voice, "'You're right, it was Roger Morland. He is very hard up, and as he was a friend of poor whites, he asked me to assist him, which I did. He hated to hear himself telling such a deliberate falsehood, but there is no help for it. Madge must never know the truth so long as he could conceal it.

"'Just like you,' said Madge, kissing him lightly with filial pride, and kindest of men. He shivered slightly as he felt her caress, and thought how she would recoil from him, did she know all. After all, says some cynical writer, the illusions of youth are mostly due to the want of experience. Madge, ignorant and great measure of the world, cherished her pleasant illusions, though many of them had been destroyed by the trials of the past year, and her father longed to keep her in this frame of mind. "'Now go down to dinner, my dear,' he said, leading her to the door. "'I will follow soon.'

don't be long replied his daughter or i shall come up again and she ran down the stairs her heart feeling strangely light her father looked after her until she vanished then heaving a regretful sigh returned to his study and taking out the scattered papers fastened them together and endorsed them my confession he then placed them in an envelope sealed it and put it back in the desk if all that is in that packet were known he said aloud as he left the room what would the world say That night he was singularly brilliant at the dinner-table. Generally, a very reticent and grave man, on this night he laughed and talked so gaily that the very servants noticed the change. The fact was he felt a sense of relief at having unburdened his mind,

and felt as though, by writing out that confession, he had laid the specter which had haunted him for so long. His daughter was delighted at the change in his spirits, but the old Scotch nurse, who had been in the house since Madge was a baby, shook her head. "'E's Faye,' she said gravely. he's not long for the world of course she was laughed at people who believe in presentiments generally are but nevertheless she held firmly to her opinion mr fredelby went to bed early that night the excitement of the last few days and the feverish gaiety in which he had lately indulged proving too strong for him no sooner had he laid his head on his pillow than he dropped off to sleep at once and forgot in placid slumber the troubles and worries of his waking hours it was only nine o'clock so madge stayed by herself in the great drawing-room and read a new novel which was then creating a sensation called sweet violet eyes

it belied its reputation however for it was very soon thrown down on the table with a look of disgust and rising from her seat madge walked up and down the room and wished some good fairy would hint to brian that he was wanted if man is a gregarious animal how much more then is a woman this is not a conundrum but a simple truth a female robinson crusoe says a writer who prided himself on being a keen observer of human nature a female robinson crusoe would have gone mad for want of something to talk to this remark though severe nevertheless contains several grains of truth for women as a rule talk more than men they are more sociable and a miss misanthrope in spite of justin mccarthy's is unknown at least in civilized communities miss fredelby being neither misanthropic nor dumb began to long for some one to talk to and ringing the bell ordered sal to be sent in the two girls had become great friends and madge though by two years the younger assumed the role of mentor and under her guidance sal was rapidly improving it was a strange irony of fate which brought together these two children of the same father each with such different histories the one reared in luxury and affluence never having known one the other dragged up in the gutter, all unsexed and besmirched by the life she had led. The whirligigig of time brings in its revenges, and it was the last thing in the world Mark Fredelby would have thought of, seeing, Rosanna Moore's child, whom he fancied dead,

under the same roof as his daughter Madge. On receiving Madge's message Sal came to the drawing-room, and the two were soon chatting amicably together. The room was almost in darkness, only one lamp being lighted. Mr. Fredelby very sensibly detesting gas, with its glaring light, and had nothing but lamps in his drawing-room. At the end of the apartment, where Sal and Madge were seated, there was a small table. On it stood a large lamp, with an opaque globe, which having a shade over it,

threw a soft and subdued circle of light round the table, leaving the rest of the room in a kind of semi-darkness. Near this sat Madge and Sal, talking gaily, and away on the left-hand side they could see the door open, and a warm flood of light pouring in from the hall. They had been talking together for some time, when Sal's quick ear caught a footfall on the soft carpet, and turning rapidly she saw a tall figure advancing down the room. Madge saw it, too, and started up in surprise on recognizing her father. He was clothed in his dressing-gown, and carried some papers in his hand.

"'Why, Papa,' said Madge in surprise, "'I—' hush!' whispered Sal, grasping her arm. "'He's asleep.' And so he was. In accordance with the dictates of the excited brain, the weary body had risen from the bed and wandered about the house. The two girls, drawing back into the shadow, watched him with bated breath as he came slowly down the room.

In a few moments he was within the circle of light, and moving noiselessly along he laid the papers he carried on the table. They were in a large blue envelope much worn, with writing in red ink on it. Sal recognized it at once as the one she had seen in the possession of the dead woman, an instinctive feeling that there was something wrong, she tried to draw Madge back, as she watched her father's action with an intensity of feeling which held her spellbound. Fredelby opened the envelope and took therefrom a yellow frayed piece of paper, which he spread out on the table.

Madge bent forward to see it, but Sal, with a sudden terror, drew her back. "'For God's sake, no,' she cried. But it was too late. Madge had caught sight of the names on the paper, Marriage, Rosanna Moore, Mark Fredelby, and the whole awful truth flashed upon her these were the papers rosanna moore had handed to white white had been murdered by the man to whom the papers were of value oh my father she staggered blindly forward and then with one piercing shriek fell to the ground in doing so she struck against her father who was still standing beside the table awakened suddenly with that wild cry in his ears he opened his eyes wide put out feeble hands as if to keep something back and with a strangled cry fell dead on the floor beside his daughter. Sal, horror-struck, did not lose her presence of mind,

but snatching the papers off the table, she thrust them into her pocket, and then called aloud for the servants. But they, already attracted by Madge's wild cry, came hurrying in to find Mark Fredelby, the millionaire, lying dead, and his daughter in a faint beside her father's corpse. End of Chapter 30, read by Sabella Denton. For more free audiobooks or to

volunteer, please visit Libravox.org. Chapter 31 of Mystery of a Handsome Cab by Fergus Hume. Read for Libravox.org into the public domain. Hushmoney As soon as Brian received the telegram which announced the death of Mark Fredelby, he put on his hat, stepped into Calton's trap, and drove along to the St. Kilda station in Flinders Street with that gentleman. There, Calton dismissed his trap, sending a note to his clerk with the groom,

and went down to St. Kilda with Fitzgerald. on arrival they found the whole house perfectly quiet and orderly owing to the excellent management of saul rawlins she had taken the command in everything and although the servants knowing her antecedents were disposed to resent her doing so yet such were her administrative powers and strong will that they obeyed her implicitly mark fredelby's body had been taken up to his bedroom madge had been put to bed and dr chinston and brian sent for when they arrived they could not help expressing their admiration at the capital way of the which Sal Rawlins had managed things. "'She's a clever girl that,' whispered Calton to Fitzgerald. Curious things she should have taken up her proper position in her father's house. Fate is a deal cleverer than we mortals think her. Brian was about to reply when Dr. Chinston entered the room.

His face was very grave, and Fitzgerald looked at him in alarm. "'Madge, Miss Fredelby,' he faltered. "'Is very ill,' replied the doctor, "'has an attack of brain fever. "'I can't answer for the consequences yet.' brian sat down on the sofa and stared at the doctor in a dazed sort of way madge dangerously ill perhaps dying what if she were to die and he'd eluse the true-hearted woman who stood so nobly by him in his trouble cheer up said chinstin patting him on the shoulder while there's life there's hope and whatever human aid can do to save her will be done brian grasped the doctor's hand in silence his heart being too full to speak how did fredelby die asked calton "'Heart disease,' said Chinston.

"'His heart was very much affected, as I discovered a week or so ago. It appears he was walking in his sleep, and entering the drawing-room he alarmed Miss Fredelby, who screamed and must have touched him. He awoke suddenly, and the natural consequences followed. He dropped down dead. What alarmed Miss Fredelby?' asked Brian in a low voice, covering his face with his hand. "'The sign of her father walking in his sleep, I suppose,' said Chinston, buttoning his glove, and the shock of his death which took place indirectly through

her accounts for the brain fever. Madge Fredelby is not the woman to scream and waken a somnambulist, said Calton decidedly, knowing as she did the danger. There must be some other reason. This young woman will tell you all about it, said Chinston, nodding towards Sal, who entered the room at this moment. She was present, and since then has managed things admirably, and now I must go, he said, shaking hands with Calton and Fitzgerald.

Keep up your heart, my boy. I'll pull her through yet. after the doctor had gone calton turned sharply to sal rawlins who stood waiting to be addressed well he said briskly can you tell us what startled miss fredelby i can sir she answered quietly i was in the drawing-room when mr fredelby died but we had better go up to the study why asked calton in surprise as he and fitzgerald followed her upstairs because sir she said when they had entered the study and she had locked the door i don't want any one but yourselves to know what i tell you more mystery muttered calton as he glanced at brian and took his seat at the eschatar mr fredelby went to bed early last night said sal calmly and miss madge and i were talking together in the drawing-room when he entered walking in his sleep and carrying some papers both calton and fitzgerald started and the latter grew pale he came down the room and spread out a paper on the table where the lamp was miss madge bent forward to see what it was i tried to stop her but it was too late she gave a scream and fell on the floor in doing so she happened to touch her father he awoke and fell down dead and the papers asked calton uneasily sal did not answer but producing them from her pocket laid them in his hands brian bent forward as calton opened the envelope in silence but both gave vent to an exclamation of horror at seeing the certificate of marriage which they knew rosanna moore had given to white their worst suspicions were confirmed and brian turned away his head afraid to meet the barrister's eye

The latter folded up the papers thoughtfully and put them in his pocket. "'You know what these are?' he asked Sal, eyeing her keenly. "'I could hardly help knowing,' she answered. "'It proves that Rosanna Moore was Mr. Fredelby's wife, and—' She hesitated. "'Go on,' said Brian in a harsh tone, looking up. "'And they were the papers she gave Mr. White. "'Well?'

"'Sal was silent for a moment and then looked up with a flush. "'You needn't think I'm going to split,' she said indignantly, recurring to her Bork Street slang in the excitement of the moment. I know what you know, but I'll be as silent as the grave. Thank you, said Brian fervently, taking her secret. I know you love her too well to betray this terrible secret. I would be a nice and I would, said Sal with scorn, after her lifting me out of the gutter to round on her,

a poor girl like me, without a friend or relative, now Grandstead. Calton looked up quickly. It was plain Sal was quite ignorant that Rosanna Moore was her mother. So much the better, they would keep her in ignorance, perhaps not altogether, but it would be folly to undeceive her at present. "'I'm going to see Miss Madge now,' she said, going to the door, "'and I won't see you again. She's getting light-headed, and might let it out, but I'll not let anyone in but myself.' And so saying she left the room.

"'Cast thy red upon the waters,' said Calton oracularly. "'The kindness of Miss Freddleby to that poor waif is already bearing fruit. gratitude is the rarest of qualities rarer even than modesty fitzgerald made no answer but stared out of the window and thought of his darling lying sick unto death and he unable to do nothing to save her well said calton sharply oh i beg your pardon said fitzgerald turning in confusion i suppose the will must be read and all that sort of thing yes answered the barrister i am one of the executors and the others yourself and chenston answered calton so i suppose turning to the dead desk, we can look at his papers and see that all is straight. Yes, I suppose so, replied Brian, mechanically, his thoughts far away, and then he turned again to the window. Suddenly Calton gave vent to an exclamation of surprise, and turning hastily, Brian saw him holding a thick roll of papers in his hand, which he had taken out of the drawer.

"'Look here, Fitzgerald,' he said greatly excited. "'Here is Fredelby's confession. Look!' And he held it up. Brian sprang forward in astonishment. So, as a at last the handsome cab mystery was to be cleared up. These sheets, no doubt, contained the whole narration of the crime, and how it was committed. We will read it, of course, he said hesitatingly, half-hoping that Calton would propose to destroy it at once. Yes, answered Calton, the three executors must read it, and then we will burn it. That will be the better way, answered Brian gloomily. Fredelby is dead, and the law can do nothing in the manner, so it would be best to avoid

the scandal of publicity. But why tell Chinston? "'We must,' said Calton decidedly. "'He will be sure to gather the truth from Madge's ravings, "'and he may as well know all. "'He is quite safe and will be as silent as the grave. "'But I am more sorry to tell Kilsip. "'The detective? Good God, Calton. "'Surely you will not do so.'

"'I must,' replied the barrister quietly. "'Kilip is firmly persuaded that Moorland committed the crime, "'and I have the same dread of his pertinacity as you had of mind. "'He may find out all. "'What must be must be,' said Fitzgerald, clenching his hand. but I hope no one else will find out this miserable story. There's Moreland, for instance. Ah, true, said Calton, thoughtfully. He called and saw Fredelby the other night, you say. Yes, I wonder what for. There is only one answer, said the barrister slowly. He must have

seen Fredelby following White when he left the hotel, and wanted hush money. I wonder if he got it, observed Fitzgerald. Oh, I'll soon find that out, answered Calton, opening the drawer again, and taking out the dead man's check-book. Let me see what checks have been drawn lately. Most of the blocks were filled up for small amounts, and one or two for a hundred or so. Calton could find no large sum, such as Morland would have demanded. When, at the very end of the book, he found a check torn off, leaving the block slip quite blank. There you are, he said triumphantly holding out the book to Fitzgerald. He wasn't such a fool as to write the amount on the block, but tore the check out and wrote in the sum required. And what's to be done about it?

let him keep it of course answered calton shrugging his shoulders it's the only way to secure his silence i expect he cashed it yesterday and is off by this time said brian after a moment's pause so much the better for us said calton grimly but i don't think he's off or kilsip would have let me know we must tell him or he'll get everything out of morland and the consequences will be that all melbourne will know the story whereas by showing him the confession we get him to leave morland alone and thus secure silence in both cases "'I suppose we must see Chinston?' "'Yes, of course. I will telegraph to him in Killsip to come up to my office this afternoon at three o'clock, and then we will settle the whole matter.' "'And Sal Rawlins?' "'Oh, I quite forgot about her,' said Calton in a perplexed voice. "'She knows nothing about her parents, and of course Mark Fredleby died in the belief that she was dead.'

"'We must tell Madge,' said Brian gloomily. "'There is no help for it. "'Sall is by rights the heiress to the money of her dead father.' "'That depends upon the will,' replied Calton. dryly if it specifies that the money is left to my daughter margaret fredelby sal ralins can have no claim and if such is the case it will be no good telling her who she is and what's to be done "'Sal Rawlins,' went on the barrister, without noticing the interruption, "'has evidently never given a thought to her father or mother, as the old hag, no doubt, swore they were dead. So I think it will be best to keep silent, that is, if no money is left

to her, and as her father thought her dead, I don't think there will be any. In that case it would be best to settle an income on her. You can easily find a pretext and let the matter rest. But suppose, in accordance with the wording of the will, she is entitled to all the money?' in that case said calton gravely there is only one course open she must be told everything and the dividing of the money left to her generosity but i don't think you need be alarmed i'm pretty sure madge is the heiress it's not the money i think about said bryan hastily i take madge without a penny my boy said the barrister placing his hand kindly on brian's shoulder when you marry madge fredelby you will get what is better than money a heart of gold End of Chapter 31, read by Sabella Denton. For more free audiobooks or to volunteer, please visit Librevox.org.

Chapter 32 of Mystery of a Handsome Cab by Fergus Hume, read for Librevox.org into the public domain. Demortuous Nilni, Sybonum. Nothing is certain but the unforeseen, so says a French proverb, and judging from the unexpected things which daily happen to us, it is without doubt a very true one. if any one had told madge fredelby one day that she would be stretched on a bed of sickness the next and would be quite oblivious of the world and its doings she would have laughed the prophet to scorn yet it was so and she was tossing and turning on a bed of pain to which the couch of procustus was one of roses sao sat beside her ever watchful of her wants and listened to the bright hours of the day or the still ones of the night to the wild and incoherent words which issued from her lips she incessantly called on her father to save himself and then would talk about brian and sing snatches of song or would sob broken sentences about her dead mother until the heart of the listener ached to hear her no one was allowed into the room except sal and when dr chinston heard the things she was saying although used to such cases he recoiled. "'There is blood on your hands,' cried Madge,

sitting up in bed, with her hair all tangled and falling over her shoulders. Red blood, and you cannot wash it off. Oh, Cain, God save him! Brian, you are not guilty. My father killed him. God, God! And she fell back on her disordered pillows weeping bitterly.

Dr. Chinston did not say anything, but shortly afterwards took his leave, after telling Sal on no account to let anyone see the patient. tain't likely said sal in a disgusted tone as she closed the door after him i'm not a viper to sting the bosom has fed me from which it may be gathered that she was advancing rapidly in her education meanwhile dr chinston had received calton's telegram and was considerably astonished thereat he was still more so when on arriving at the office at the time appointed he found calton and fitzgerald were not alone but a third man whom he had never seen was with them the latter calton introduced to him as mr kilsip of the detective office a fact which made the worthy doctor uneasy as he could in no wise divine the meaning of it however he made no remark but took the seat handed to him by mr and prepared to listen. Calton locked the door of the office, and then went back to his desk, having the other three seated before him in a kind of semicircle.

"'In the first place,' said Calton to the doctor, "'I have to inform you that you are one of the executors under the will of the late Mr. Fredelby, and that is why I asked you to come here to-day. The other executors are Mr. Fitzgerald and myself.' "'Oh, indeed,' murmured the doctor politely. "'And now,' said Calton, looking at him, "'do you remember the handsome cab-murder which caused such a serious, sensation some months ago.

Yes, I do, replied the doctor, rather astonished. But what has that to do with the will? Nothing to do with the will, answered Calton gravely, but the fact is Mr. Fredelby was implicated in the affair. Dr. Chinston glanced inquiringly at Brian, but that gentleman shook his head. It has nothing to do with my arrest, he said sadly. Madge's words, uttered in her delirium, flashed across the doctor's memory. What do you mean, he gasped, pushing back his chair.

How was he implicated? "'That I cannot tell you,' answered Calton, until I read his confession. "'Ah!' said Kilsip, becoming very attentive. "'Yes,' said Kaltin, turning to Kilsip, "'your hunt after Moorland is a wild goose-chase, for the murderer of Oliver White is discovered.' "'Discovered?' cried Kilsip, and the doctor in one breath. "'Yes, and his name is Mark Fredelby.'

Kilsip shot a glance of disdain out of his bright black eyes, and gave a low laugh of disbelief, but the doctor pushed back his chair furiously and arose to his feet. This is monstrous, he cried in a rage. I won't sit still and hear this accusation against my dead friend. Unfortunately, it is too true, said Brian, sadly. How dare you say so, said Chisdun, turning angrily on him, and you going to marry his daughter? There is only one way to settle the question, said Calton coldly. We must read his confession. But why the detective? asked the doctor ungraciously, as he took his seat, because I want him to hear for himself that Mr. Fredleby committed the crime, that he may keep science.

silence. Not till I've arrested him, said Kilsip, determinedly. But he's dead, said Brian. I'm speaking of Roger Morland, retorted Kilsip, for he and no other murdered Oliver White. That's a much more likely story, Chinston said. I tell you, said Calton vehemently, God knows I would like to preserve Mark Fredelby's good name, and it is with this object I have brought you all together. I will read the confession, and when you know the truth, I want you to keep silent about it, as Mark Fredelby is dead, and the publication of his crime can do no good to anyone. I know, resumed Calton, addressing the detective, that you are fully convinced in your own mind

that you are right and I am wrong, but what if I tell you that Mark Fredelby died, holding those very papers for the sake of which the crime was committed? Kilsip's face lengthened considerably. What were the papers? The marriage certificate of Mark Fredelby and Rosanna Moore, the woman who died in the back slum. Kilsip was not often astonished, but he was so now, and Dr. Chinsden fell back in his chair, staring at the barrister in blank amazement. And what's more, went on Calton triumphantly.

Do you know that Morland went to Fredelby two nights ago and obtained a certain sum for hush money? What? cried Kilsip. Yes, Morland, in coming out of the hotel, evidently saw Freddlby and threatened to expose him unless he paid for his silence. Very strange, murmured Kilsop to himself, with a disappointed look on his face. But why did Morland keep still so long?

I cannot tell you, replied Calton, but no doubt the confession will explain all. Then for heaven's sake read it, broke in Dr. Chinston impatiently. I'm quite in the dark, and all your talk is Greek to me. One moment, said Kilsip, dragging a bundle from under his chair and untying it. If you are right, what about this? And he held up a light coat, very much soiled and weather-worn. Whose is that? asked Kylton, startled. Not white. Yes, whites, repeated Kilsip with great satisfaction. I found it in the Fitzroy Gardens, near the gate that opens to George Street, East Melbourne. It was up in a first place.

tree. Then Mr. Fredelby must have got out at Pallet Street and walked down George Street and then through the Fitzroy Gardens into town, said Calton. Killsip took no heat of the remark, but took a small bottle out of the pocket of the coat and held it up. I also found this, he said. Chloriform, cried everyone, guessing at once that it was the missing bottle. Exactly, said Kilsip replacing it. This is what the bottle, which contained the poison used by, by, well, call him the murderer, the name of the chemist being on the label, I went to him and found out who bought it. Now, who do you think, with a look of triumph? Fretelby, said Calton decidedly. No, Moreland, burst out Chinston, greatly excited.

Neither, retorted the detective calmly. The man who purchased this was Oliver White himself. Himself, echoed Brian, now thoroughly surprised, as indeed were all the others. Yes, I had no trouble in finding out that, thanks to the Poisons Act, as I knew no one would be so foolish as to carry chloroform about in his pocket for any length of time, I mentioned the day of the murder as the probable date it was bought. The chemist turned up in his book and found that White was the purchaser. And what did he buy it for? asked Chinston. That's more than I can tell you, said Kilsip, with a shrug of his shoulders. It's down in the book as being bought for medicinal usage, which may mean anything. The law requires a witness,

observed Calton cautiously. Who was the witness? Again, Kilsop smiled triumphantly. I think I can guess, said Fitzgerald. Morland? Kilsip nodded. And I suppose, remarked Calton in a slightly sarcastic tone. That is another of your proofs against Morland. He knew that White had chloroform on him, therefore he followed him that night and murdered him. Well, I—it's a lot of nonsense, said the barrister impatiently. There's nothing against Morland to implicate him.

If he killed White, what made him go and see Fredelby? But, said Kilsip, nodding sagely in his head, if, as Morland says, he had White's coat in his possession before the murder, how is it that I should discover it afterwards up a fir-tree in the Fitzroy Gardens, with an empty chloroform bottle in the pocket he may have been an accomplice suggested calton what's the good of all this conjecturing said chinstin impatiently now thoroughly tired of the discussion read the confession and we will soon know the truth without all this talk calton assented and all having settled themselves to listen he began to read what the dead man had written end of chapter thirty two read by sibella denton for more free audiobooks or to volunteer please visit librobocs.org Chapter 33 of Mystery of a Handsome Cab by Fergus Hume. Read for Libravox.org into the public domain.

The Confession What I am now about to write is set forth by me so that the true circumstances connected with the handsome cab tragedy which took place in Melbourne in 18 may be known. I owe a confession, particularly to Brian Fitzgerald, seeing that he was accused of the crime. Although I know he was rightfully acquitted of the charge, yet I wish him to know all about the case, though I am convinced, from his altered demeanor towards

me, that he is better acquainted with it than he chooses to confess. In order to account for the murder of Oliver White, I must go back to the beginning of my life in this colony, and show how the series of events began which culminated in the committal of the crime. Should it be necessary to make this confession public, in the interest of justice, I can say nothing against such a course being taken, but I would be grateful if it could be suppressed, both on account of my good name and of my dear daughter Margaret, whose love and affection has so soothed and brightened my life. If, however, she should be informed of the contents of these pages, I ask her to deal leniently with the memory of one who was sorely tried and tempted. I came to the colony of Victoria, or rather,

as it was called then, New South Wales, in the year eighteen. I had been in a merchant's office in London, but not finding much opportunity for advancement, I looked about to see if I could better myself. I heard of this new land across the ocean, and though it was not then the Eldorado which it afterwards turned out, and, truth to tell, had rather a shady name, owing to the transportation of convicts, yet I longed to go there and start a new life. Unhappily, however, I had not the means, and saw nothing better before me than the dreary life of a London clerk, as it was impossible that I could save out of the small salary I got. just at this time an old maiden aunt of my mother's died and left a hundred pounds to me with this i came out to australia determined to become a rich man i stayed some time in sydney and then came over to port philip now so widely known as marvellous melbourne where i intended to pitch my tent

i saw that it was a young and rising colony though of course coming as i did before the days of the gold diggings i never dreamt it would spring up as it has done since into a nation i was careful and saving in those days and indeed i think it was the happiest time of my life i bought land whenever i could scrape the money together and at the time of the gold rush was considered well to do when however the cry that gold had been discovered was raised and the eyes of all the nations were turned to australia with her glittering treasures men poured in from all parts of the world and the golden age commenced i began to grow rich rapidly and was soon pointed out as the wealthiest man in the colonies i bought a station and leaving the riotous feverish melbourne life went to live on it i enjoyed myself there for the wild open-air life had great charms for me, and there was a sense of freedom to which I had hitherto been a stranger. But man is a gregarious animal, and I, growing reary of solitude and communings with Mother Nature, came down on a visit to Melbourne, where, with companions as gay as myself, I spent my money freely, and, as the phrase goes, saw life. After confessing that I loved the pure life of the country, it sounds strange to say I enjoyed the wild life of the town, but I did. I was neither

a Joseph nor a St. Anthony, and I was delighted with me. Bohemia, with its good fellowship and charming suppers, which took place in the small hours of the morning, when wit and humor reigned supreme. It was at one of these suppers that I first met Rosanna Moore, the woman who was destined to curse my existence. She was a burlesque actress, and all the young fellows in those days were madly in love with her. She was not exactly what was called beautiful, but there was a brilliancy and fascination about her which few could resist. On first seeing her I did not admire her much, but laughed at my companions as they rave to about her. On becoming personally acquainted with her, however, I found that her powers of fascination

had not been overrated, and I ended by falling desperately in love with her. I made inquiries about her private life, and found that it was irreproachable, as she was guarded by a veritable dragon of a mother who would let no one approach her daughter. I need not tell you about my courtship, as these phases of a man's life are generally the same, but it will be sufficient to prove the depth of my passion for her when I say I was determined to make her my wife. on condition, however, that the marriage should be kept secret until such time as I should choose to reveal it. My reason for such a course was this. My father was still alive, and he, being a rigid Presbyterian, would never have forgiven me for having married a woman of the stage. So, as he was

old and feeble, I did not wish him to learn that I had done so, fearing that the shock would be too much for him in his then state of health. I told Rosanna I would marry her, but wanted her to leave her mother, who was a perfect fury and not an agreeable person to live with. As I was rich, young, and not bad-looking, Rosanna consented, and during an engagement she had in Sydney I went over there and married her. She never told her mother she had married me, why, I do not know, as I laid no restriction on her doing so. The mother made a great noise over the matter, but I gave Rosanna a large sum of money for her, and this the old Herodon accepted, and left for New Zealand.

Rosanna went with me to my station, where we lived as man and wife, though in Melbourne she was supposed to be my mistress. At last, feeling degraded in my own eyes at the way in which I was supposed to be living, I wanted to reveal our secret, but this Rosanna would not consent to. I was astonished at this, and never could discover the reason, but in many ways Rosanna was an enigma to me. She then grew weary of the quiet country life, and longed to return to the glitter and glare of the footlights. This I refused to let her do, and from that moment she took a dislike to me. A child was born, and for a time she was engrossed with it, but soon wearied of the new plaything, and again pressed me to allow her to return to the stage.

I again refused, and we became estranged from one another. I grew gloomy and irritable, and was accustomed to take long rides by myself, frequently being away for days. There was a great friend of mine who owned the next station, a fine, handsome young fellow called Frank Kelly, with a gay, sunny disposition and a wonderful flow of humor. When he found I was so much away, thinking Rosanna was only my mistress, he began to console her, and succeeded so well that one day, on my return from a ride, I found she had fled with him and had taken the child with her. She left a letter, saying that she had never really cared for me, but had married me for my money. She would keep our marriage secret, and was going to return to

the stage. I followed my false friend and false wife down to Melbourne, but arrived too late, as they had just left for England. Disgusted with the manner in which I had to had been treated, I plunged into a whirl of dissipation, trying to drown the memory of my married life. My friends, of course, thought my loss amounted to no more than that of a mistress, and I soon began myself to doubt that I had ever been married. So far away and visionary did my life of the previous year seem. I continued my fast life for about six months, when suddenly I was arrested upon the brink of destruction by an angel. I say this advisedly, for if ever there was an angel upon earth, it was she who afterwards became my wife.

she was the daughter of a doctor and it was her influence which drew me back from the dreary path of profligacy and dissipation which i was then leading i paid her great attention and we were in fact looked upon as good as engaged but i knew that i was still linked to that accursed woman and could not ask her to be my wife at this second crisis of my life fade again intervened for i received a letter from england which informed me that rosanna moore had been run over in the streets of london and had died in an hospital the writer was a young woman who had died in an hospital the writer was a young doctor who had attended her and i wrote home to him begging him to send out a certificate of her death so that i might be sure she was no more he did so and also enclosed an account of the accident which had appeared in a newspaper then indeed i felt that i was free and closing as i thought for ever the darkest page of my life's history i began to look forward to the future i married again and my domestic life was a singularly happy one as the colony grew greater with every year i became even more wealthy than i had been and was looked up to and respected by my fellow-citizens when my dear daughter margaret was born i felt that my cup of happiness was full but suddenly i received a disagreeable reminder of the past rosanna's mother made her appearance one day a disreputable-looking creature smelling of gin in whom i could not recognize the respectably dressed woman who used to accompany rosanna to the theatre She had spent long ago all the money I had given her, and had sunk lower and lower until she now lived in a slum off Little Bork Street. I made inquiries after the child, and she told me it was dead. Rosanna had not taken it to England with her, but had left it in her mother's charge, and no doubt neglect and want of proper nourishment was the cause of its death.

There now seemed to be no link to bind me to the past, with the exception of the old hag, who knew nothing about the marriage. I did not attempt to undeceive her, but agreed to allow her. her enough to live on if she promised never to trouble me again, and to keep quiet about everything which had reference to my connection with her daughter. She promised readily enough, and went back to her squalid dwelling in the slums, where, for all I know, she still lives, as money has been paid to her regularly every month by my solicitors. I heard nothing more about the matter, and now felt quite satisfied that I had heard the last of Rosanna. As years rolled on, things prospered with me, and so fortunate was I in all speculations that my luck became proverbial.

then alas when all things seemed to smile upon me my wife died and the world has never seemed the same to me since but i had my dear daughter to console me and in her love and affection i became reconciled to the loss of my wife a young irish gentleman called brian fitzgerald came out to australia and i soon saw that my daughter was in love with him and that he reciprocated that affection whereat i was glad as i have always esteemed him highly i looked forward to their marriage when suddenly a series of events occurred which must be fresh in the memory of those who read these pages mr oliver white a gentleman from london called on me and startled me with the news that my first wife rosanna moore was still living and that the story of her death had been an ingenious fabrication in order to deceive me she had met with an accident as stated in the newspaper and had been taken to an hospital where she recovered the young doctor who had sent me the certificate of her death had fallen in love with her and wanted to marry her and had told me that she was dead in order that her past life may be obliterated the doctor however died before the marriage and rosanna did not trouble herself about undeceiving me She was then acting on the burlesque stage under the name of Mousset, and seemed to have gained an unenviable notoriety by her extravagance and infamy. White met her in London, and she became his mistress.

He seemed to have had a wonderful influence over her, for she told him all her past life, and about her marriage with me. Her popularity, being on the way in London, as she was now growing old, and had to make way for younger actresses, White proposed that they should proceed to the colonies and extort money from me, and he had come to me for that purpose. purpose. The villain told me all this in the coolest manner, and I, knowing he held the secret of my life, was unable to resent it. I refused to see Rosanna, but told White I would agree to his terms, which were, first, a large sum of money was to be paid to Rosanna,

and secondly, that he should marry my daughter. I at first absolutely declined to sanction the latter proposal, but as he threatened to publish the story, and that meant the proclamation to the world of my daughter's illegitimacy, I at last agreed, and he was to the fact began to pay his addresses to Madge. She, however, refused to marry him, and told me she was engaged to Fitzgerald, so after a severe struggle with myself, I told White that I would not allow him to marry Madge, but would give him whatever sum he liked to name. On the night he was murdered he came to see me, and showed me the certificate of marriage between myself and Rosanna Moore. He refused to take a sum of money, and said that unless I consented

to his marriage with Madge, he would publish the whole affair. I implored him to give me time to think, so he said he would give me two days, but no more, and left the house, taking the marriage certificate with him. I was in despair, and saw that the only way to save myself was to obtain possession of the marriage certificate and deny everything. With this idea in mind I followed him up to town, and saw him meet Moreland and drink with him. They went into the hotel in Russell Street, and when White came out, at half-past twelve, he was quite intoxicated. I saw him go along to the Scotch Church, near the Bork and Will's monument, and cling to the lamp-post at the corner. I thought I would then be able to get the certificate from him, as he was so drunk,

when I saw a gentleman in a light coat. I did not know it was Fitzgerald, come up to him and hail a cab for him. I saw there was nothing more to be done at that time, so in despair, went home and waited for the next day, in fear lest he should carry out his determination. Nothing, however, turned up, and I was beginning to think that White had abandoned his purpose when I heard that he had been murdered in the handsome cab. I was in great fear lest the marriage certificate should be found on him, but nothing was said about it. This I could not understand at all.

I knew he had it on him, and I could only conclude that the murderer, whoever he was, had taken it from the body, and would sooner or later come to me to extort money, knowing that I dare not denounce him. Fitzgerald was arrested, and afterwards acquitted, so I began to think that the certificate had been lost, and my troubles were at an end. I was always haunted by a dread that the sword was hanging over my head and would fall sooner or later. I was right, for two nights ago, Roger Morland, who was an intimate friend of whites, called on me, and produced the marriage certificate, which he offered to sell me for five thousand pounds.

In horror I accused him of murdering White, which he denied at first, but afterwards acknowledged, stating that I dare not betray him for my own sake. I was nearly mad with the horror I was placed in, either to denounce my daughter as illegitimate, or let a murderer escape the penalty of his crime. At last I agreed to keep silent and handed him a check for five thousand pounds, receiving in return the marriage certificate. I then made Morland swear to leave the colony, which he readily agreed to do, saying Melbourne was dangerous. When he left, I reflected upon the awfulness of my position, and had almost determined to commit suicide, but thank God I was saved from that crime. I write this confession in order that after my death

the true story of the murder of White may be known, and that anyone who may hereafter be accused of the murder may not be wrongfully punished. I have no hopes of Morland ever receiving the penalty of his crime, as when this is opened all trace of him will, no doubt, be lost. I will not destroy the marriage certificate, but place it with these papers, so that the truth of my story can be seen. In conclusion, I would ask the forgiveness of my daughter Margaret for my sins, which have been visited on her, but she can see for herself that circumstances were too strong. for me. May she forgive me, as I hope God in his infinite mercy will, and may she come sometimes and pray over my grave, nor

think too hardly upon her dead father. End of Chapter 33, read by Sabella Denton. For more free audiobooks or to volunteer, please visit Librevox.org. Chapter 34 of Mystery of a Handsome Cab by Fergus Heum, read for Librevox.org into the public domain. The Hands of Justice Calton's voice faltered a little when he read those last sad words, and he laid the manuscript down on the table amid a dead silence, which was first broken by

Brian. "'Thank God,' he said reverently, "'thank God that he was innocent of the crime.' "'No,' said Calton a little cynically, "'the riddle which is perplexed us so long is read, and the Sphinx is silent forevermore. "'I knew he was incapable of such a thing,' cried Chinston, "'whom emotion had hitherto kept silent. Meanwhile, Kilsip listened to those eulogistic remarks on the dead man, and purred to himself,

in a satisfied sort of way, like a cat who has caught a mouse. "'You see, sir,' he said, addressing the barrister, "'I was right, after all.' "'Yes,' answered Kalton, frankly. "'I acknowledge my defeat, but now—I'm going to arrest Morland right off,' said Kilsip. There was a silence for a few moments, and then Kaltin spoke again. "'I suppose it must be so. "'Poor girl! Poor girl!'

I'm very sorry for the young lady myself, said the detective in his soft, low voice, but you see I cannot let a dangerous criminal escape for a mere matter of sentiment. Of course not, said Fitzgerald sharply. Morland must be arrested right off. But he will confess everything, said Calton angrily, and then every one will know about this first marriage. Let them, retorted Brian bitterly. As soon as she is well enough, we will marry at once and leave Australia forever.

But—I know her better than you do, said the young man doggedly, and i know she would like an end made of this whole miserable business at once arrest the murderer and let him suffer for his crime well i suppose it must be so said chinston with a sigh but it seems very hard that this slur should be cast on miss fredelby brian turned a little pale the sins of the father are generally visited upon the children by the world he said bitterly but after the first pain is over in new lands among new faces she will forget the bitter past "'Now that it is settled, Moreland is to be arrested,' said Calton. "'How is it to be done? Is he still in Melbourne?' "'Rather,' said Killsip in a satisfied tone. "'I've had my eye on him for the last two months, and some one is watching him for me now. Trust me, he can't move two steps without mine knowing it.'

"'Ah, indeed,' said Kalton quickly, "'then do you know if he has been to the bank and cast that cheque for five thousand, which Fredelby gave him?' "'Well now,' observed Killsip after a pause, "'do you know you rather startled me when you told me he had to be had received a check for that amount. Why? It's such a large one, replied the detective, and had I known what some he had paid into his count I should have been suspicious. Then he has been to the bank? To his own bank, yes. He went there yesterday afternoon at two o'clock.

That is the day after he got it, so it would be sent round to Mr. Fredelby's bank, and would not be returned till next day, and as he died in the meanwhile I expect it hasn't been honoured, so Mr. Morland won't have his money yet. I wonder what he'll do, said Chinster. "'Go to the manager and kick up a row,' said Killsip coolly, "'and the manager will no doubt tell him he'd better see the executors.' "'But, my good friend, the manager doesn't know who the executors are,' broke in Calton impatiently. You forget the will has yet to be read. Then he'll tell him to go to the late Mr. Fredelby's solicitors.

"'I suppose he knows who they are,' retorted Kilsip. "'Thenton and Tarbett,' said Calton musingly. "'But it's questionable if Morland would go to them.' "'Why shouldn't he, sir?' said Kilsip quickly. He does not know anything about this, laying his hand on the confession, and as the check is genuine enough, he won't let five thousand pounds go without a struggle. "'I'll tell you what,' observed Calton, after a few moments of reflection. "'I'll go across the way and telephone to Thinton and Tarbett, and when he calls on them they can

send him up to me.' "'A very good idea,' said Kilsip rubbing his hands, and then I can arrest him. "'But the warrant,' interposed Brian, as Calton rose and put on his hat, "'is here,' said the detective, producing it. by jove you must have been pretty certain of his guilt remarked chenston dryly of course i was retorted kilsip in a satisfied tone of voice when i told the magistrate where i found the coat and reminded him of morland's acknowledgment at the trial that he had it in his possession before the murder i soon got him to see the necessity of having morland arrested half-past four said calton pausing for a moment at the door and looking at his watch i'm afraid it's rather late to catch morland to-day however i'll see what thinton and tarbett know and he went out the rest sat waiting his return and chatted about the curious end of the handsome cab mystery when in about ten minutes calton rushed in hurriedly and closed the door after him fate is playing into our hands he said as soon as he recovered his breath morland called on thinton and tarbett as kilsip surmised and as neither of them was in he said he would call again before five o'clock. I told the clerk to bring him up to me at once, so that he may be here

at any moment. That is, if he's fool enough to come, observed Chinston. Oh, he'll come, said the detective confidently, rattling a pair of handcuffs together. He is so satisfied that he has made things safe that he'll walk right into the trap. It was getting a little dusk, and the four men were greatly excited, though they concealed it under an assumed nonchalance. What a situation for a drama, said Brian. Only, said Chinston quietly, it's is as realistic as in the old days of the Coliseum, where the actor who played Orpheus was torn to pieces by bears at the end of the play. His last appearance on any stage, I suppose, said Calton, a little cruelly it must be confessed. Meanwhile, Kilsip remained seated in his chair,

humming an operatic air and chinking the handcuffs together by way of accompaniment. He felt intensely pleased with himself, the more so as he saw that by this capture he would be ranked far above Gorby. And what would Gorby say? Gorby, who had laughed at all his ideas as foolish, who had been quite wrong from the first, if only—hush, said Calton, holding up his finger, as steps were heard echoing on the flags outside. Here he is, I believe. Kilsip arose from his chair, and stealing softly to the window, looked cautiously out. Then he turned round to those inside, and, nodding his head, slipped the handcuffs into his pocket. Just as he did so, there was a knock at the door, and in response to Calton's invitation to enter, Thinton and Tarbitt's clerk came in

with Roger Morland. The latter faltered a little on the threshold, when he saw Calton was not alone, and seemed half inclined to retreat. But evidently thinking there was no danger of his secret being discovered, he pulled himself together, and advanced into the room in an easy and confident manner. "'This is the gentleman who wants to know about the check, sir,' said Thin and Tarbitt's clerk, to Calton. "'Oh, indeed,' answered Calton, quietly, "'I am glad that Glad to see him. You can go. The clerk bowed and went out, closing the door after him. Morland took his seat directly in front of Calton, and with his back to the door. Kilsip, seeing this, strolled across the room in a nonchalant manner, while Calton engaged

Morland in conversation and quietly turned the key. "'You want to see me, sir?' said Calton, resuming his seat. "'Yes, that is, alone,' replied Morland uneasily. "'Oh, these gentlemen are my friends,' said Calton, quietly. "'Anything you may say is quite safe.' "'That they are your friends and are quite safe is nothing to me,' said Morland, insolently. "'I wish to speak to you in private.' "'Don't you think you would like to know my friends?' said Calton, coolly taking no notice of his

remark. "'Damn your friends, sir,' cried Morland, furiously, rising from his seat. Calton laughed and introduced Mr. Morland to the others. Dr. Chinston, Mr. Kilsip, and Mr. Fitzgerald.' "'Fitzgerald?' gasped Morlin, growing pale. "'I—I—what's that?' he shrieked as he saw White's coat, all weather-stained, lying on a chair near him, and which he immediately recognized. "'That is the rope that's going to hang you,' said Kilsip, quietly, coming up behind him,

for the murder of Oliver White. "'Trapped by God!' shouted the wretched man, wheeling round, so as to face Kilsip. He sprang at the detective's throat, and they both rolled together on the floor, but the latter was too strong for him, and after a sharp struggle he succeeded in getting the handcuffs on Morland's wrists. The others stood around perfectly quiet, knowing that Kilsip required no. assistance. Now that there was no possibility of escape, Morland seemed to become resigned, and rose suddenly off the floor. "'I'll make you pay for this,' he hissed between his teeth,

with a white, despairing face. You can't prove anything. Can't we?' said Calton, touching the confession. "'You are wrong. This is the confession of Mark Fredelby made before he died. It's a lie. A jury will decide that,' said the barrister dryly. Meanwhile, you will pass the night in the Melbourne jail. "'Ah, perhaps they'll give me the same cell as you occupied,' said Morland, with a hard laugh, turning to Fitzgerald. I should like it for its old associations. Brian did not answer him, but picking up his hat and gloves prepared to go. "'Stop!' cried Morland fiercely.

"'I see that it's all up with me, so I'm not going to lie like a coward. I played for a big stake and lost, but if I hadn't been such a fool I'd have cashed that check the next morning and been far away by this time. "'It certainly would have been wiser,' said Calton. "'After all,' said Morland, nonchalantly, taking no notice of his remark, "'I don't know what I'm sorry about. I've had a hell upon earth since I killed White.' "'Then you acknowledge your guilt,' said Brian quietly. "'Morland shrugged his shoulders.

"'I told you I wasn't a coward,' he answered coolly. "'Yes, I did it. It was White's own fault. When I met him that night he told me how Fredelby wouldn't let him marry his daughter, but he said he'd make him and showed me the marriage certificate. I thought if I could only get it, I'd make a nice pile out of Fredelby over it, so when white went on drinking i did not after he had gone out of the hotel i put on his coat which he left behind i saw him standing near the lamp-posts and fitzgerald come up and then leave him when you came down the street he went on turning to fitzgerald i shrank back into the shadow and when you passed i ran up to white as the cabman was putting him into the handsome he took me for you so i didn't undeceive him but i swear i had no idea of murdering white when i got into the cab i tried to get the papers but he wouldn't let me and commenced to sing out Then I thought of the chloroform in the pocket of his coat, which I was wearing.

I pulled it out and found that the cork was loose. Then I took out White's handkerchief, which was also in the coat, and emptied the bottle on it, and put it back in my pocket. I tried again to get the papers without using the chloroform, but couldn't, so I clapped the handkerchief over his mouth, and he went off after a few minutes, and I got the papers. I thought he was only insensible, and it was only when I saw the newspapers that I knew he was dead. I stopped the cab in St. Kilda Road, got out, and caught another cab, which was

going to town. Then I got out at Powlett Street, took off the coat, and carried it over my arm. I went down George Street, towards the Fitzroy Gardens, and having hid the coat up a tree, where I suppose you found it, to Kilsip, I walked home. So I've done you all nicely, but—you're caught at last, finished Kilsip quietly. Morland fell down in a chair with an air of utter weariness and lassitude. "'No man can be stronger than destiny,' he said dreamily. "'I have lost and you have won, so life is a chessboard, after all, and we are the puppets of fate. He refused to utter another word. So, leaving Calton and Kilsyp with him,

Brian and the doctor went out and hailed a cab. It drove up to the entrance of the court, where Calton's office was, and then Morland, walking as if in a dream, left the room, and got into the cab, followed by Kilsip. Do you know, said Chinston thoughtfully, as they stood and watched the cab drive off? Do you know what the end of that man will be? It requires no profit to foretell that, said Calton, dryly. He will be hanged. no he won't retorted the doctor he will commit suicide end of chapter thirty four read by sabella denton for more free audiobooks or to volunteer please visit librivox dot org Chapter 35 of Mystery of a Handsome Cab by Fergus Hume. Read for Librevox.org into the public domain.

The Love That Lives There are certain periods in the life of man, when fate seems to have done or worst, and any further misfortunes which may befall are accepted with philosophical resignation, begotten by the very severity of previous trials. Fitzgerald was in this state of mind. He was calm, but it was the calmness of despair. The misfortunes of the past year seemed to have come to a a climax, and he looked forward to the publication of the whole bitter story with an indifference that surprised himself. His own name, and that of Madge and her dead father, would be on every

tongue, yet he felt perfectly callous to whatever might be said on the subject. So long as Madge recovered, and they could go away to another part of the world, leaving Australia with its bitter memories behind, he did not care. Morland would suffer the bitter penalty of his crime, and then nothing more would ever be heard of the matter. It would be better for the matter. It would be better for the matter, the whole story to be told, and transitory pain endured, than to go on striving to hide the infamy and shame which might be discovered at any moment. Already the news was all over Melbourne that the murderer of Oliver White had been captured,

and that his confession would bring to light certain startling facts concerning the late Mark Fredelby. Brian well knew that the world winked at secret vices so long as there was an attempt at concealment, though it was cruelly severe on those which were brought to light, and that many whose lives might be secretly far more culpable in poor Mark Fredelby's would be the first to slander the dead man. The public curiosity, however, was destined never to be gratified, for the next day it was known that Roger Morland had hanged himself in his cell during the night, and had left no confession behind him. When Brian heard this, he breathed a heartfelt prayer of thanks for his deliverance,

and went to see Calton, whom he found at his chambers in deep conversation with Chinston and Kilsip. They all came to the conclusion that, as Moorland was now dead, nothing could be gained by publishing the confession of Mark Fredelby, so agreed to burn it, and when Fitzgerald saw in the heap of blackened paper in the fireplace all that remained of the bitter story, he felt a weight lifted off his heart. The barrister, Chinston, and Kilsip all promised to keep silent, and they kept the promise nobly, for nothing was ever known of the circumstances which led to the death of Oliver White, and it was generally supposed that it must have been caused by some quarrel between the dead man and his friend Roger Morland.

Fitzgerald, however, did not forget the good service that Killsip had done him, and gave him a sum of money which made him independent for life, though he still followed his old profession of a detective from sheer love of excitement, and was always looked upon with admiration as the man who had solved the mystery of the famous handsome cab murder. Brian, after several consultations with Calton, at last came to the conclusion that it would be useless to reveal to Sal Rollins the fact that she was Mark Freddleby's daughter, as by the will the money was clearly left to Madge, and such a revelation

could bring her no pecuniary benefit, while her bringing up unfitted her for the position, so a yearly income, more than sufficient for her wants, was settled upon her, and she was allowed to remain in ignorance of her parentage. The influence of Sal Rollins's old life, however, was very strong on her, and she devoted herself to the task of saving her fallen sisters. Knowing, as she did, all the intricacies of the slums, she was enabled to, able to do an immense amount of good, and many an unhappy woman was saved from the squalor and hardship of a gutter life by the kind hand of Sal Rollins. Felix Rolliston became a member of Parliament, where his speeches, if not very deep, were at least amusing, and while in the

house he always behaved like a gentleman, which could not be said of all his parliamentary colleagues. Madge slowly recovered from her illness, and as she had been explicitly named in the will as heiress to Mark Fredelby's great wealth, she placed the management of her estates in the hands of Mr. Calton, who, with Thinton and Tarbet, acted as her agents in Australia. On her recovery she learned the story of her father's early marriage, but both Calton and Fitzgerald were silent about the fact of Sal Rollins being her half-sister, as such a relation could do no good, and would only create a scandal, as no explanation could be given except the true one. Shortly afterwards, Madge married Fitzgerald, and both of them only too gladly left

Australia, with all its sorrows and bitter memories. Standing with her husband on the deck of one of the P. and O steamers as it plowed the blue waters of Hobson's Bay into foam, they both watched Melbourne gradually fade from their view, under the glow of the sunset. They could see the two great domes of the exhibition, and the Law Courts, and also Government House, with its tall tower rising from the midst of the green trees. In the background was a bright crimson sky, barred with masses of black clouds, and all over the great city hung a cloud of smoke like a pall. The flaring red light of the sinking sun glared angrily on the heavy waters, and the steamer seemed to be making its way through a sea of blood.

Madge, clinging to her husband's arm, felt her eyes filled with tears, as she saw the land of her birth receding slowly. Good-bye, she murmured softly. Goodbye forever. You do not regret, he said, bending his head. Regret, no, she answered, looking at him with loving eyes. With you by my side I fear nothing. Surely our hearts have been tried in the furnace of affliction. and our love has been chastened and purified.

We are sure of nothing in this world, replied Brian with a sigh, but after all the sorrow and grief of the past, let us hope that the future will be peace. Peace! A white-winged seagull rose suddenly from the crimson waters and circled rapidly in the air above them. A happy omen, she said, looking up fondly to the grave face of her husband, for your life and for mine.

He bent down and kissed her. The great steamer moved slowly out to sea, and as they stood on the deck hand clasped in hand with a fresh salt breeze blowing keenly in their faces it bore them away into the placid beauty of the coming night towards the old world and the new life end of chapter thirty five end of mystery of a handsome cab by fergus hume