Classic Audiobook Collection - The Opal Serpent by Fergus Hume ~ Full Audiobook [mystery]

Episode Date: December 29, 2022

The Opal Serpent by Fergus Hume audiobook. Genre: mystery In Edwardian London, young Paul Beecot breaks away from a stifling life in the country to chase a writing career and a chance at independence. His new start takes an ominous turn when he crosses paths with the guarded pawnbroker Aaron Norman and Norman's captivating daughter, Sylvia, whose loyalty to her father is matched only by her fear of a peculiar piece of jewelry: an opal brooch shaped like a coiled serpent. When the old man is found murdered in a scene as theatrical as it is brutal, the serpent brooch becomes the story's chilling signature and its most valuable clue. Rumors of superstition swirl, but the real menace lies in greed, hidden relationships, and the sudden appearance of competing claims over Norman's fortune and Sylvia's very identity. As Detective Hurd and other investigators push through contradictory testimony and carefully staged alibis, Paul finds himself pulled deeper into the case, torn between ambition, conscience, and his growing attachment to Sylvia. Blending street-level London atmosphere with twists of inheritance, disguise, and motive, The Opal Serpent is a classic puzzle mystery where every secret has a price. For ad-free listening try our premium subscription Chapters (Approximate) (00:00:00) Chapter 01 (00:24:12) Chapter 02 (00:50:10) Chapter 03 (01:13:52) Chapter 04 (01:36:44) Chapter 05 (01:59:51) Chapter 06 (02:23:13) Chapter 07 (02:43:55) Chapter 08 (03:05:56) Chapter 09 (03:27:40) Chapter 10 (03:48:38) Chapter 11 (04:09:24) Chapter 12 (04:30:41) Chapter 13 (04:55:34) Chapter 14 (05:16:29) Chapter 15 (05:39:23) Chapter 16 (05:59:31) Chapter 17 (06:21:06) Chapter 18 (06:41:21) Chapter 19 (06:57:57) Chapter 20 (07:21:39) Chapter 21 (07:45:00) Chapter 22 (08:07:30) Chapter 23 (08:29:22) Chapter 24 (08:53:53) Chapter 25 (09:24:47) Chapter 26 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

the opal serpent by fergus hume chapter i don quixote in london simon becott was a country gentleman with a small income a small estate and a mind considerably smaller than either he dwelt at wargrove in essex and spent his idle hours of which he possessed a daily and nightly twenty-four in snarling at his faded wife and in snapping between whiles at his son mrs beecott having been bullied into old age long before her time accepted sour looks and hard words as necessary to god's providence but paul a fiery youth resented useless nagging he owned more brain power than his progenitor and to this favoring of nature paterfamilius naturally objected paul also desired fame which was likewise a crime in the fireside tyrant's eyes as there were no other children paul was heir to the beacot acres therefore their present proprietor suggested that his son should wait with idle hands for the falling-in of the heritage in plain words mr becott coming of a long line of middle-class loafers wished his son to be a loafer also again when mrs becott retired to a tearful rest her bully found paul a useful person on whom to expend his spleen should this whipping-boy leave mr beacott would have to forego this enjoyment as servants subject to being sworn to bein at without cause.

For years, Mr. Beacott, indulged in bouts of bad temper till Paul, finding twenty-five too dignified of an age to tolerate abuse, announced his intention of storming London as a scribbler. The parents objected in detail,

Mrs. Beacroff, after her kind, dissolved in tears, and made reference to the young birds leaving the nest, while her husband, puffed out like a frog, redder than the waddles of a turkey cock,

exhausted himself in well-chosen expressions. Paul increased the use of these by fixing a day for his departure. The female be-cott retired the bed with the assistance of a maid, burnt feathers, and saw volatile, and the male has a last and clinging argument figuratively buttoned up his pockets.

Not one shilling, will you get from me, said Becott, Sr., with the graceful addition of vigorous adjectives. I don't ask for money, said Paul, keeping his temper, for, after all, the turkey cock was his father. I have saved fifty pounds, not out of my pocket money, he added hastily, seeing further objections on the way, I earned it by writing short stories.

The confounded mercantile instinct, snorted, peter familius only he used stronger words your mother's uncle was in trade thank heaven none of my people ever used hands or brains the becots lived like gentlemen i should say like cabbages from your description father no insolence sir how dare you disgrace your family writing tales indeed rubbish i expect and here several adjectives and you took money i'll be bound ah i've just informed you that i took all i could get said becott junior quietly i'll live in town on my savings when i make a name and a fortune i'll return never never gobbled the turkey-cock if you descend to the gutter you can wallow there i'll cut you out of my will very good sir that's settled let us change the subject but the old gentleman was too high-spirred to leave well alone He demanded to know if Paul knew to whom he was talking, inquired if he had read the Bible, touching the duties of children to their parents, instanced the fact that Paul's dear mother would probably pine away and die,

and ended with a pathetic reference to losing the prop of his old age. Paul listened respectfully and held to his own opinion. In defense of the same he replied in detail, I am aware that I talk to my father, sir, said he with Spirit. You never allow me to forget that fact. If another man spoke to me, as you do, I should probably break his head. I have read the Bible and find therein that parents owe a duty to their children, which certainly does not include being abused like a pickpocket.

My mother will not pine away if you will leave her alone for at least three hours a day. and as to my being the prop of your old age your vigor of language assures me that you are strong enough to stand alone pater milius never bearded before hastily drank a glass of port the two were enjoying the usual pleasant family meal when the conversation took place and said but it is useless to detail his remarks they were all sound and no sense injustice to himself and out of pity for his father paul cut short the scene by leaving the room with his determination unchanged mr becock thereupon retired the bed and lectured his wife on the enormity of having brought a parasite into the world. Having been countered for once in his life with common sense, he felt that he could not put the matter too strongly to a woman, who was too weak to resent his bullying. Early next day, the cause of the commotion, not having swerved a hare's breath, from the path he had marked out, took leave of his mother and a formal farewell of the gentleman, who described

himself as the best of fathers. Becott's senior, turkey-cock and tyrant, was more subdued now that he found Bluster would not carry his point. But the wave of common sense came too late. Paul departed bag and baggage, and his sire swore to the empty air. Even Mrs. Bicott was not available, as she had fainted. Once Paul was fairly out of the house, Pater Familius announced that the glory of Israel had departed, removed his son's photograph from the drawing-room, and considered which of the relatives he had quarreled with should he adopt.

Privately, he thought he had been a trifle heart on the lad, but for his obstinacy, which he called firmness, he would have recalled the prodigal. But that enterprising adventurer was beyond hearing and had left no address behind him. Beacott, the bully, was not a person. a bad old boy, if only he had been firmly dealt with. So he acknowledged that Paul had a fine spirit of his own,

inherited from himself, and prophesied incorrectly. He'll come back when the fifty pounds is exhausted, said he, in a kind of dejected rage. And when he does, a clenched fist, shaken at nothing, terminated the speech, and showed that the leopard could not change his spots. So Paul Beacock repaired the London, and after the Orthodox fashion, began to cultivate the muses on a little oatmeal by renting a Bloomsbury Garrett. There he wrote reams on all subjects, and in all styles, and for six months, assiduously haunted publishers' doors with varying fortunes. Sometimes he came away with a check, but more often, with a bulky manuscript,

bulging his pocket. When tired of settling down imaginary woes, he had time to think of his own. Being a cheerful youth, with an indomitable spirit, he banished trouble by interesting himself in the cheap world. By this has meant the world

which costs no money to view, the world of the street. Here he witnessed the drama of humanity from morning till night, from sunset till dawn, and on the whole witnessed very good acting. The poorer parts in the human comedy were particularly well played, and starving folks were quite dramatic in their demands for food.

Notebook in hand, Paul witnessed spectacular shows in the West End, grotesque farses in the Strand, melodrama in Whitechapel, and tragedy on Waterloo Bridge at midnight. Indeed, he quite spoiled the effect, of a sensation scene by tugging at the skirts of a starving heroine who wished to take a river journey

into the next world. But for the most part, he remained a spectator and plagiarized from real life. Shortly, the great manager of a Universal Theater enlisted Paul as an actor, and he assumed the double role

of an unappreciated author and a sighing lover. in the first capacity he had in his desk ten short stories a couple of novels three dramas and a sheath of doubtful verse these failed to appeal to editor manager or publisher and the author found himself reduced to his last five-pound note then the foolish ardent lad must needs fall in love who his divinity was what she was and why she should be devonized can be gathered from a conversation her worshipper had with an old school fellow. It was in Oxford Street at five o'clock on a June afternoon that Paul met Graftston Hay. Turning the corner of the street, leading to his Bloomsbury attic,

the author was tapped on the shoulder by a resplendented Bond Street being. That is, the said being wore a perfectly fitting frock coat, a silk hat, trousers, with the regulation foldback and front, an orchid buttonhole, gray gloves, boots that glittered and carried a gold-topped cane. The fact that Paul wheeled without wincing showed that he was not yet in debt. Your Grub Street old-time author would have leaped at his own length at the touch. But Paul, with a clean conscience, turned slowly and gazed without recognition, into the clean-shaven, calm, cold face

that confronted his inquiring eyes. Beacot, said the newcomer, taking rapid stock of Paul's shaggy serge suit and worn looks. I thought I was right. The voice, if not the face, awoke old memories. Hey, cracks in hay, cried the struggling genius. Well, I am glad to see you, and he shook hands with a frank grip

of an honest man. And I, you, Hay, drew his friend up the side street and out of the human tide which day luge the pavement. But you seem... It's a long story, interrupted Paul, flushing. Come to my castle, and I'll tell you

all about it, old boy. You'll stay to supper, won't you? See here, Paul displayed a parcel, a pound of sausages. You loved him at school, and I am a super-fine. cook. Graftston Hay always used expression and word to hide his feelings, but with Paul, whom he had always considered a generous ass at Torrington's school, a trifle of self-betrayal, didn't matter

much. Beacot was too dense, and it may be added, too honest, to turn any opportunity to advantage. It's the most surprising thing, said Hay, in his calm way, really a most surprising thing. that a Torrington public schoolboy, my friend and the son of wealthy parents, should be buying sausages. Come now, said Paul, with great spirit, and towing hay homeward. I haven't asked you for money. If you do, you shall have it, said hay, but the offer was not so generous a one as would appear.

That was hay all over. He always said what he did not mean, and he knew well that Beacott's uneasy pride, shied at loans however small. Paul, the unsophisticated, took the shadow of generosity for its substance, and his dark face lighted up. You're a brick, hey, he declared, but I don't want money, no,

this in reply to an eloquent glance from the well-to-do. I have sufficient for my needs, and besides, with a look of that resplendent dress of the fashion-plate dandy, I don't glitter in the West End. Which hints that those who do are rich, said Glaxton, with an arctic smile, wrong, Bicot, I'm poor. Only paupers can afford to dress well.

In that case I must be a millionaire, laughed Bacott, glancing downward at his well-worn garb. But mount these stairs, we have much to say to one another. Much that is pleasant, said the courtly Grafton. paul shrugged his square shoulders and stepped heavenward on your part i hope he sang back certainly not on mine come to poverty castle and the fashionable visitor found his host lighting the fire in an apartment such as he had read about but had never seen it was quite the proper garret for a starving genius small bleak bare but scrupulously clean the floor was partially covered with scraps of old carpet faded and worn the walls were entirely papered with pictures from illustrated journals one window revealing endless rows of dingy chimney-pots was draped with shabby red curtains of a dull red in one corner behind an indian screen stood a narrow camp bedstead covered with a gaudy eastern shawl and also a large tin bath with a can of water beside it against the wall leaned the clumsy deal bookcase filled with volumes well-thumbed and in old bindings

on one side of the tiny fireplace was a horsehair sofa rendered less slippery by an expensive bare rug thrown over its bareness on the other was a cupboard of a cupboard when speak-hot, rapidly produced crockery, knives, forks, accruet, napkins, and other table accessories, all of the cheapest description. A deal table, in the center of the room, an antique mahogany desk, heaped high with papers under the window, completed the furnishings of Poverty Castle, and it was up four flights of stairs, like the celebrated attic in Thackeray's poem. as near heaven as i'm likely to get rattled on beecot deftly frying the sausage after placing his visitor on the sofa the grub will soon be ready i'm a first-class cook bless you old chap housemaid too clean eh he waved the fork proudly round the ill-furnished room i'd dismiss myself if it wasn't but-but stammered hay much amazed and surveying things through an eye-glass

what are you doing here trying to get my foot on the first rung of fame's ladder but i don't quite see read balsack's life and you will his people gave him an attic and the starvation allowance in the hope of disgusting him bar the allowance my pater has done the same here's the attic and here's my starvation paul gaily popped the frisling sausages on a chipped hot plate and here's your aspiring servant hoping to be novelist dramatists and what not to say nothing of why not mustard there you are wait a bit i'll brew you tea or cocoa i never take those things with meals be caught your kit assures me of that champagne's more in your line i say graxton what are you doing now what other west end men do said graxton attacking a sausage that means nothing well he never did work at torrington so how can i expect the leopard to change his saucy spots hay laughed and during the meal explained his position on leaving school i was adopted by a rich uncle he said when he went the way of all flesh he left me a thousand a year which is enough to live on with strict economy i have rooms in alexander street camden hill a circle of friends and a good appetite as you will perceive with these i get through life very comfortably ha said paul darting a keen glance at his visitor you have the strong digestion necessary to happiness have you the hard heart Also, if I remember at school,

Oh, hang school, said Graftston, flushing all over his cold face. I never think of school. I was glad when I got away from it, but we were great friends at school, Paul. Something after the style of Steerforth and David Copperfield, was Paul's reply, as he pushed back his plate.

You were my hero, and I was your slave. But the other boys, he looked again. they hated me because they did not understand me as you did if that is so graxton why did you let me slip out of your life it is ten years since we parted i was fifteen and you twenty which now makes us twenty-five and thirty respectively said hay dryly you left school before i did yes i had scarlet fever and was taken home to be nursed i never went back and since then i have never met an old torrington boy have you not asked hay eagerly no my parents took me abroad and i sampled a german university i returned the idle about my father's place till i grew sick of doing nothing and having ambitions i came to try my luck in town he looked round and laughed you see my luck well said hay lighting a dainty cigarette produced from a gold case my uncle who died sent me to oxford and then I traveled. I am now on my own, as I told you,

and haven't a relative in the world. Why don't you marry, asked Paul with a flush? Hey, wary man about town as he was, noted the flush, and guessed its cause. He could put two and two together as well as most people. I might ask you the same question, said he. The two friends looked at one another, and each thought of the difference in his companion,

since the old school days. Hay was clean-shaven, fair-haired, and calm, almost icy in manner. His eyes were blue and cold. No one could tell what was passing in his mind from the expression of his face. As a matter of fact, he usually wore a mask,

but at the present moment, better feelings having the upper hand, the mask had slipped a trifle. But as a rule, he kept command of expression and words and actions. An admirable example of self-control was Graftston Hay. On the other hand, B. Cott was slight, tall and dark, with an eager manner and a face which revealed his thoughts.

His complexion was swart. He had large black eyes, a sensitive mouth, and a small mustache, smartly twisted upward. He carried his head well and looked rather militarily, military in appearance, probably because many of his forebears had been army men. While Hay was smartly dressed in a Bond Street kit, Paul wore a well-cut, shabby blue serge. He looked perfectly well-bred, but his clothes were woefully threaded there. From these and the garret and the lean meal of sausages, Hay drew his conclusions and

put them into words. "'Your father has cut you off,' said he, calmly. and yet you propose to marry? How do you know both things? I keep my eyes open, Paul. I see this attic and your clothes. I saw also the flush on your face when you ask me why I did not marry.

You are in love. I am, said Becott, becoming scarlet and throwing back his head. It is clever of you to guess it. Prophecy Moore. Hayes smiled in a cold way. I prophecy that if you marry on nothing you will be miserable. But, of course, he looked sharply at his open-faced friend,

the lady may be rich. She is the daughter of a second-hand bookseller called Norman, and I believe he combines selling books with pawnbroking. Hmm, said Hay. He might make money out of the last occupation. Is he a Jew by any chance? No, he is a miserable-looking, one-eyed Christian. with the manner of a frightened rabbit.

One-eyed and frightened, repeated, hey, musingly, but without change of expression. Desirable father-in-law, and the daughter? Sylvia, she is an angel, a white lily, uh? Of course, said Glaxen, cutting short these rhapsodies. And what do you intend to marry on? Becott fished a shabby blue velvet case out of his pocket. it. On my last five pounds and this, he said, opening the case.

Hay looked at the contents of the case and saw a rather large brooch made in the form of a jeweled serpent, opals, diamonds, and gold, he said slowly, then looked up eagerly, sell it to me. End of Chapter 1. Chapter 2 of the Opel's Serpent by Fergus Hume. This Libravox recording is in the public domain. Deborah Junk Duena Number 45, Gwynne Street was a second-hand bookshop,

and much of the stock was almost as old as the building itself. A weather-stained board of faded blue bore in tarnished gold lettering the name of its owner, and under this were two broad windows, divided by a squat door, open on weekdays from eight in the morning until eight at night. Within the shop was dark and had a musty odor. On either side of the quaint old house was a butcher's and a baker's,

flaunting places of business raw in their newness. Between the first-named establishment and the bookshop, a low, narrow passage led to a small backyard and to a flight of slimy steps, down which clients who did not wish to be seen could arrive at a kind of seller to transact business with Mr. Norman. This individual combined two distinct trades. On the ground floor he sold second-hand books. In the cellar, he bought jewels and gave money on the same to needy people. In the shop, pale youths, untidy, abstracted old men, spectacled girls,

and all varieties of the pundit caste were to be seen pouring over agent volumes or exchanging words with a proprietor. But to the cellar came fast young men, aged spendthrifts, women of no reputation, and some who are very respectable indeed. These usually came at night, and in the cellar transactions would take place which involved much money exchanging hands. In the daytime, Mr. Norman was an innocent bookseller, but after seven, he retired to the cellar and became as genuine a pawnbroker as could be found in London. Touching books he was easy enough to deal with, but a shylock as regards jewels and money lent. With his bookish clients, he passed for a dull shopkeeper who knew little about literature, but in the underground establishment he was spoken of by those who came to pawn as a usurer of the worst in an underhand way he did a deal of business

aran norman such was the name over the shop looked like a man with a past a miserable past for in his one melancholy eye and twitching nervous mouth could be red sorrow and apprehension his face was pale and he had an odd habit of glancing over his left shoulder as though he expected to be tapped thereon by a police officer. Sixty years had rounded his shoulders and weakened his back, so that his one eye was almost constantly on the ground. Suffering had scored marks on his forehead and weary lines round his thin, lipped mouth. When he spoke he did so in a low, hesitating voice, and when he looked up, which was seldom, his eye revealed a hunted look. like that of a wearied beast fearful lest it should be dragged from its lair it was the strange-looking man that paul becott encountered in the doorway of the gwynne street shop the day after his meeting with hay many a visit had paul paid to that shop and not always to buy books norman knew him very well and recognizing him in a fleeting look as he passed through the doorway smiled weakly

behind the counter stood bart pausie the lean underling who was much sharper with buyers than was his master but after a disappointed glance in his direction paul addressed himself to the bookseller i wish to see you particularly he said with his eager air i am going out on important business said norman but if you will not be very long it's about a brooch i wish to pawn the old man's mouth became hard and his eyes sharper i can't attend to that now mr becott he said and his voice rang out louder than usual after seven it's only six now said paul looking over his shoulder at a church clock which could be seen clearly in the pale summer twilight i can't wait well then as you are an old customer of books said aaron with emphasis i'll stretch a point you can go below at a quarter to seven and i'll come round through the outside passage to see you meantime i must go about my business and he went away with his head hanging and a solitary eye searching the ground as usual paul in spite of a supposed hurry was not ill-pleased that aaron had gone out and that there was an idle hour before him he stepped lightly into the shop and under the flaring gas he stepped lightly into the shop and under the flaring gas which was lighted, so dark was the interior of the shop, in spite of the luminous glowing, he encountered the smile of Barty.

Paul, who was sensitive and proudly recitent, grew red. He knew well enough that his apparent admiration of Sylvia Norman had attracted the notice of Bart and of the red-armed wench, Deborah Junk, who was the factotum of the household. Not that he minded it, for both these servants were devoted. to Sylvia, and knowing that she returned the feelings of Paul, said nothing about the position to Aaron. Bicott could not afford to make enemies of the payer, and had no wish to do so. They were coarse-grained and common, but loyal and kindly of heart.

Got any new books, Bart, asked Bacott, coming forward with roving eyes, for he hoped to see Sylvia glide out of the darkness to bless his hungry eyes. "'No, sir, we never get new books,' replied Bart smartly. "'Leastways. There's a batch of second-hand novels published last year. But bless you, Mr. Beacott, there ain't nothing new about them except the bindings. You are severe, Bart. I hope to be a novelist myself.

We need one, sir. For the most part, them as right now, ain't novelists, if that means telling anything as is new. but i must go upstairs sir miss sylvia said i was to tell her when you came oh yes sir that is she wants to see a photograph of my own home i promise to show it to her paul took a parcel out of his pocket can't i go up no sir twouldn't be wise the old man may come back and if he knew as you'd been in his house bart jerked his head toward the ceiling he'd take a fit why he doesn't think i'm after the silver lord bless you no sir it ain't that what's valuable silver and gold and jewels and such like is down there bart nodded towards the floor but mr norman don't like people coming into his private rooms he's never let any one in for years perhaps he fears to lose the fairest jewel he has bart was what the scotch call quick in the uptake he don't think so much of her as he ought to sir he said gloomily but i know he loves her and wants to make her a great heiress when he goes to the worms miss sylvia will have a pretty penny

i only hope added bart looking slyly at paul that he who has her to wife won't squander what the old man has worked for becock colored still more at this direct hint and would have replied but at this moment a large red-faced ponderous woman dashed into the shop from a side door there she said clapping her hands in a childish way i knowed his voice and i says to miss sylvia has a sitting doing needlework which she do do lovely i says that's him and she says with a lovely color oh deborah just see for my heart's beating too loud for me to hear his voice so i says here she became breathless and clapped her hands again so as to prevent interruption but paul did interrupt her knowing from experience that once she set going deborah would go on until pulled up can't i go up to miss norman he asked you may murder me and slay me and trample on my corpse said deborah solemnly but go up you can't master would send me to walk the streets if i dared to let you innocent as you are go up them stairs paul knew long ago how prejudiced the old man was in this respect during all the six months he had known sylvia he had never been permitted to mount the stairs in question it was strange that aaron should be so particular on this point but connecting it with his downcast eye and frightened air paul concluded though without much reason that the old man had something to conceal more that he was frightened of some one however he did not argue the point but suggested a meeting-place

Can't I see her in the cellar, he asked. Mr. Norman said I could go down to wait for him. Sir, said Deborah, plunging forward a step, like a stumbling bushorse, don't tell me as you want to pawn. Well, I do, replied Paul softly, but you needn't tell everyone. It's only bark, cried Deborah, casting a fierce look in the direction of the slim, sharp-faced young man, and if he was to talk, I'd take his tongue out that I would. I'm a-training him to be my husband, and I don't hold with a ready-made article, and married he shall be, by parson and clerk, if he's a good boy, and don't talk of what don't matter to him.

I ain't going to chatter, said Bart, with a wink. Lord, bless you, sir, I've seen gentlemen, as noble as yourself pointing things down there, he nodded again towards the floor ah and ladies too but hold your tongue cried deborah pitching herself across the floor like a ship in distress you're a talking now of what you ain't a right to be talking of drat you come this way mr becott to the place where old nick have his home for that he is when seven strikes you shouldn't speak of your master in that way protested paul oh shouldn't i snorted the maid with a snort surprisingly loud and who have better right sir i've been here twenty years as servant and nurse and friend an humble well-wisher to miss sylvia coming a slip of a girl at ten which makes me thirty i don't deny not that it's too old to marry bart though he's but twenty and makes up in wickedness for twice that age i know master and when the son's up to marry bart though he's but twenty and makes up in wickedness for twice that age i know master and when the sun's up there ain't a better man living but turn on the gas and he's an old nick bart attend to your business and don't open them long ears of yours too wide i won't have a listening husband i can tell you this way sir mind the steps by this time deborah had convoyed paul to a dark corner behind the counter and jerked back a trap-door here he saw a flight of wooden steps

which led downwards into darkness. But Miss Junk snapped up a lantern on the top step, and having lighted it, dropped down, holding it above her red and tousled head. Far below, her voice was heard crying to be caught to, come on. Therefore he followed as quickly as he could, and soon found himself in the cellar. All around was dark, but Deborah lighted a couple of flaring gas jets,

and then turned, with her arms akimbo, on the, a visitor. Now then, sir, you and me must have a talk confidential-like, she said, in her breathless way. It's pawning, is it? By which I knows that you ain't brought that overbearing paw of yours to his knees. Paul sat down in a clumsy mahogany chair, which stood near a plain deal table, and stared at the handmaiden. I never told you about my father, he said, exhibiting surprise. Oh, no, of course not, Miss Junk tossed her head. Me being a babe and a suckling, not fit to be told anything.

But she told Miss Sylvia and she told me, and she tells everything to her Debbie. God bless her for a pretty flower. She pointed a coarse red finger at Paul. If you were a gay deceiver, Mr. Beacott, I'd trample on your corpse this very minute if I was the diet old Bailey for the doing of it. see and deborah was breathless again paul seized his chance there's no reason you shouldn't know all about me and-no indeed i should think not begging your pardon sir

but when you comes here six months back i says to miss sylvia i says he's making eyes at you my lily and she says to me she says oh debby i love him that i do and then i says says i my pretty he looks a gent born and bred but that's the worst kind so we'll find out if he's a liar before you lose your dear heart to him but i'm not a liar began paul only to be cut short again as well i knows burst out miss junk her arms akimbo again do you think sir has i to let you come lovin my pretty one and me not knowing if you was judas or jezebel not me if i never drank my nightly drop of beer again what you told miss sylvia of your frantic paw and your loving ma she told me pumping you may call it shouted deborah emphasizing again with a red finger but everything you told in your lover way she told her old silly debby i says to bart if he loves me bart go down to wargrove wherever it may be if in england which i doubt and if he meaning you don't tell the truth out he goes if i have the chucking of him myself and a police court summons over it so bart goes to wargrove and he finds out that you speak true which means that you are a gent sir if ever there are a if ever there was one in spite of your frantic paw so i hopes as you'll marry my flower and make her happy bless you and deborah spread a large pair of mottled arms over paul's head it's all true he said good-naturedly my father and i don't get on well together and i came to make a name in london but for all you know deborah i may be a scamp that you are not she burst out why bart's been following you every

everywhere, and he and me, which is to be his lawful wife and master, knows all about you in that there place in Bloomsbury, and where you go and where you don't go. And let me tell you, sir, again, she lifted her finger threateningly. If you wasn't what you ought to be, never would you see my pretty one again, no, not if I had to wash the floor in your blue blood, for blue it is, if what Bart learned was true of them stone figures in the church. and she gasped paul was silent for a few minutes looking at the floor he wondered that he had not guessed all this often it had seemed strange to him that so faithful and devoted a couple of retainers as barton deborah junk should favor his wooing of sylvia and keep it from their master seeing that they knew nothing about him but from the woman's story which he saw no reason to disbelieve the two had not rested

until they had been convinced of his respectability and of the truth of his story. Thus they had permitted the wooing to continue, and Paul privately applauded them for their tact in so making sure of him without committing themselves to open speech. All the same, he said aloud, and following his own thoughts, it's strange that you should wish her to marry me. Miss Junk made a queer answer. I'm glad enough to see her marry any.

one respectable, let alone a gent, as you truly are, with stone figures in churches, and a handsome face, though rather dark for my liking. Mr. Becott, twenty years ago, a slip of ten, I came to nurse the baby, as was my loving angel upstairs, and her ma had just passed away to join them, as lives overhead playing harps. All these years I've never heard a young step on them stairs, save Miss Sylvie. and Barts, him having come five years ago, and a brat he was. And would you believe it, Mr. Bicott, I know more of the old man than you do.

He's queer, and he's wrong altogether, and that frightened of being alone in the dark, as you could make him a corpse with a turnip lantern. What is he afraid of? Ah, said Debrot significantly. What, indeed, it may be police, and it may be ghosts, but ghost. or police, he never says what he oughter say if he's a respectable man, which I sadly fear he ain't. He may have his reasons, too.

Miss Junk tossed her head and snorted again loudly. Oh, yes, he has his reasons, she admitted, and old Bailey ones they are. I dare say, but there's something hanging over his head. Don't ask me what it is, for never shall you know by reasoning of my being ignorant. but whatever it is mr becott it's something wicked and shall i see my own pretty in trouble how do you know there will be trouble interrupted paul anxiously i've heard him pray said miss junk mysteriously yes you may look for there ain't no prayer in the crafty eye of him but pray he do and ask to be kept from danger danger's the word for i won't deceive you no not if you pay you pay you do and ask to be kept from danger danger's the word for i won't deceive you no not if you pay you me better wages than the old man do give, and he's as near as the pairing of an onion. So I says to Bart, if there's danger and trouble in old Bailey's about, the sooner Miss Sylvia

has some dear man to give her a decent name, and protect her, the more happy old Deborah will be. So I looked and looked for what you might call a fairy prince as I've heard tell of in pantomimes, and when you comes she loses her heart to you. so i says find out bart what he is and yes yes i see well deborah you can depend upon my looking after your pretty mistress if i were only reconciled with my father i would speak to mr norman don't sir don't cried the woman fiercely and making a clutch at paul's arm he'll turn you out he will not being anxious for anyone to have my flower though lover as he ought to do he don't know cried Deborah, nor her mob before her, who died with a starving heart, but you run away with my sweetest and make her your own, though her paw swears thunderbolts, as you may say,

take her from this place of wickedness and police courts, and Deborah looked round the cellar with a shudder. Suddenly she started and held up her finger, nodding towards a narrow door at the side of the cellar. Master's footsteps, she said, in a harsh whisper, I'd know it in a thousand, just like a thief's ain't it? Stealing, as you might say, don't tell him you've seen me. But Sylvia cried Paul, catching her dress as she passed him. Her you'll see if I die for it, said Deborah, and whirled upon the wooden steps in a silent manner, surprising and so noisy a woman. Paul heard the trap-door drop with a stealthy creep. As a key grated in the lock of the outside door, he glanced to, he glanced at the door.

around the place to which he had penetrated for the first time. It was of the same size as the shop overhead, but the walls were of stone, green with slime, and feathery, with a kind of ghastly white fungus. Overhead from the wooden roof, which formed the floor of the shop, hung innumerable spider webs, thick with dust. The floor was of large flags cracked in many places, and between the chinks and moist corners sprouted sparse, colorless grass. In the center was a deal table, scored with queer marks, and splashed with ink. Over this flared to gas jets, which whistled shrilly. Against the wall, which was below the street, were three green painted safes, fast-locked,

but the opposite wall had in it the narrow door aforesaid, and a wide, grated wing. window, the bars of which were rusty, though strong. The atmosphere of the place was cold and musty and suggestive of a charnel house, certainly a strange place in which to transact business, but everything about Aaron Norman was strange. And he looked strange himself as he stepped in at the open door. Beyond, Paul could see the shallow flight of damp steps leading to the yard and the passage which gave admission from the street. Norman locked the door and came forward. He was as white as a sheet,

and his face was thickly beaten with perspiration. His mouth twitched more than usual, and his hands moved nervously. Twice as he advanced towards Paul, who rose to receive him, he did cast an odd look over his shoulder. Becot fancifully saw him, a man who had committed some crime,

and was fearful lest it should be discovered or lest the avenger should suddenly appear deborah's confidential talk had not been without its effect on the young man and paul beheld in aaron a being of mystery how such a man came to have such a daughter as sylvia paul could not guess here you are mr beacott said aaron rubbing his hands as though the cold of the cellar struck to his bones well i want the pawn a brooch said beecot slipping his hand into his breast pocket wait said norman throwing up his lean hand let me tell you that i have taken a fancy to you and i have watched you all the many times you have been here didn't you guess no said paul wondering if he was about to speak of sylvia and concluding that he guessed what was in the wind well then i have said the pawnbroker and I think it's a pity, a young man, should pawn anything. Have you no money, he asked. Paul reddened, very little, he said. Little as it may be, live on that and don't pawn, said Aaron.

I speak against my own interests, but I like you, and perhaps I can lend you a few shillings. I take money from no one, thank you all the same, said Beacott, throwing back his head, but if you can lend me something on this brooch, and he pulled out the case from his pocket. A friend of mine would have bought it, but as it belongs to my mother,

I prefer the pawnet so that I may get it again when I am rich. Well, well, said Aaron abruptly, and resuming in his downcast looks, I shall do what I can, let me see it. He stretched out his hand and took the case, slowly opening it under the gas, he inspected its contents. Suddenly he gave a cry of a lulling,

alarm, and the case fell to the floor. The opal serpent, the opal serpent, he cried, growing purple in the face, Keep off, keep off. He beat the air with his lean hands. Oh, the opal, and he fell face downward on the slimy floor, in a fit or a faint, but certainly unconscious. End of Chapter 2. Chapter 3 of the Opal Serpent by Fergus Hume.

this librivox recording is in the public domain dulcinea of gwynne street near the temple station of the metropolitan railway is a small garden which contains a certain number of fairly sized trees a round bandstand and a few flower beds intersected by asphalt paths here those who are engaged in various offices round about come to enjoy russ and urbys to listen to the gay music and in many cases to eat a scanty midday meal old women come the sun themselves loafers sit on the seats to rest workmen smoke and children play on a bright day the place is pretty and those who frequent it feel as though they were enjoying a country holiday though but a stone's throw from the thames and lovers meet here also so it was quite in keeping that paul picot should wait by the bronze statues of the herculaneum wrestlers for the coming of sylvia on the previous day he had departed hastily after committing the old man to deborah's care at first he had lingered to see aaron revive but when the unconscious man came to his senses and opened his eyes he fainted again when his gaze when his gaze was again when his gay days fell on paul deborah therefore in a rough practical way suggested that as beecott was upsetting him he had better go it was in a state of perplexity that paul had gone away but he was cheered on his homeward way by a hasty assurance given by miss junk that sylvia would meet him in the gardens near them niggers without clothes said deborah it was strange that the sight of the brooch should have produced such an effect on

and his fainting confirmed paul's suspicion that the old man had not a clean conscience but what the serpent brooch had to do with the matter beacot could not conjecture it was certainly an odd piece of jewelry and not particularly pretty but the merest glimpse of it should make norman faint was puzzling in the extreme apparently it is associated with something disagreeable in the man's mind soliloquized paul pacing the pavement and keeping a sharp look-out for sylvia perhaps with death else the effect would scarcely have been so powerful has to produce a fainting fit yet aaron can't know my mother hmm i wonder what it means while he was trying to solve the mystery a light touch on his arm made him wheel round and he beheld sylvia smiling at him while he was looking along the embankment for her coming she had slipped down norfolk street and through the gardens to where the wrestlers clutched that empty air in her low voice which was the sweetest of all sounds to paul she explained this looking into his dark eyes meanwhile but i can't stay long finished sylvia my father is still ill and he wants me to return and nurse him has he explained why he fainted asked paul anxiously no he refuses to speak on the matter why did he faint paul the young man looked puzzled upon my word i don't know he said just as i was showing him a brooch i wished upon he went off what kind of a brooch asked the girl also perplexed paul took the case out of his breast pocket where it had been since the previous day my mother said that the girl also perplexed paul took the case out of his breast pocket where it had been since the previous day my mother

sent it to me, he explained. You see, she guessed that I am hard up, and thanks to my father, she can't send me money. This piece of jewelry she has had for many years, but, as it is rather old-fashioned, she never wears it. So she sent it to me, hoping, that I might get ten pounds or so for it. A friend of mine wished to buy it, but I was anxious to get it back again, so that I might return it to my mother. Therefore, I thought your father might lend me money on it." Sylvia examined the brooch with great attention. It was evidently of Indian workmanship,

delicately chased and thickly set with jewels. The serpent, which was apparently wriggling across the stout gold pin of the brooch, had its broad back studded with opals, large in the center of the body and small at head and tail. These were set round with tiny diamonds, and the head was of chaste gold with a ruby tongue. Sylvia admired the workmanship and the jewels, and turned the brooch over. On the flat, smooth gold underneath, she found the initial R scratched with a pin. This she showed to Paul. I expect your mother made this mark to identify the brooch, she said.

My mother's name is Anne, replied Paul, looking more public. puzzled than ever. Anne Beacott, why should she mark this with an initial which has nothing to do with her name? Perhaps it is a present, suggested Sylvia. Paul snapped the case, too, and replaced it in his pocket. Perhaps it is, he said, however, when I next write to my mother, I'll ask her where she got the brooch. She has had it for many years, he added musingly, for I remember playing with it when a small boy. Don't tell your mother that my father fainted. Why not, does it matter?

Sylvia folded her slender hands and looked straight in front of her. For some time they had been seated on a bench in a retired part of the gardens, and the laughter of playing children, the music of the band playing the merriest airs from the last musical comedy came faintly to their ears. I think it does matter, said the girl, seriously. for some reason my father wants to keep himself as quiet as possible. He talks of going away. Going away?

Oh, Sylvia, and you never told me. He only spoke of going away when I came to see how he was this morning, she replied. I wonder if his fainting has anything to do with his determination. He never talked of going away before. Paul wondered also, it seems strange, that after so unusual an event the old man should turn restless and wish to leave a place where he had lived for over twenty years i'll come and have an explanation said paul after a pause i think that will be best dear father said that he would like to see you again and told bart to bring you in if he saw you i'll call to-day this afternoon and perhaps your father will explain and now sylvia that is enough about other people and other things let us talk of ourselves sylvia turned her face with a fond smile she was a delicate and dainty little lady with large gray eyes and soft brown hair

Her complexion was transparent, and she had little color in her cheeks. With her oval face, her thin nose, and charming mouth, she looked very pretty and sweet. But it was her expression that Paul loved. This was a trifle sad, but when she smiled, her looks changed as an overcast sky changes when the sun burst through the clouds. Her figure was perfect. her hands and feet showed marks of breeding and although her gray dress was as demure as any worn by a quakeress she looked bright and merry in the sunshine of her lover's presence everything about sylvia was dainty and neat and exquisitely clean but she was hopelessly out of the fashion it was this odd independence in her dress which constituted another charm in paul's eyes

the place was too public to indulge in love-making and it was very tantalizing to sit near this vision of beauty without gaining the delight of a kiss paul feasted his eyes and held sylvia's gray gloved hand under the cover of her dress further he could not go but if you put up your sunshade he suggested heartfully paul that was all sylvia said but it suggested a whole volume of rebuke brought up in seclusion like the princess in an enchanted castle the girl was exceedingly shy paul's ardent looks and eager wooing startled her at times and he thought disconsonately that his chivalrous love-making was coarse and common when he gazed on the delicate dainty shrinking maid he adored you should not have stepped out of your missile sylvia he said sadly whatever do you mean dearest i mean that you are a saint and angel a thing to be adored and worshipped you are exactly like one of those lovely creations one sees in mass books of the middle ages i fear sylvia paul sighed that you are too dainty and holy for this workaday world what nonsense paul i'm a poor girl without position or friends living in a poor street you are the first person who ever thought me pretty you are not pretty said the ardent beacott you are divine you are beatrice you are elizabeth of thuringia you are everything that is lovely and adorable and you are a silly boy replied sylvia blushing but loving this poetic talk all the same

do you want to put me in a glass case when we marry if you do i shan't become mrs becott i want to see the world and enjoy myself then other men will admire you and i shall grow jealous can you be jealous paul horribly you don't know half my bad qualities i am poor and needy and ambitious and jealous and there there i won't hear you run yourself down you are the best boy in the world poor world if i am that he laughed and squeezed the little hand oh my love do you really think of me always always you know i do why ever since i saw you enter the shop six months ago i have always loved you i told debby and debby said that i could supposing debby had said that you couldn't oh she would never have said that why paul she saw you the young man laughed and colored do i carry my character in my face he asked sylvia don't think too well of me that is impossible she declared you are my fairy prince well i certainly have found an enchanted princess sleeping in a jealously guarded castle what would your father say did he know sylvia looks startled i am afraid of my father she replied indirectly yes he is so strange sometimes he seems to love me and at other times to hate me we have nothing in common i love books and art and gaiety and dresses but my father only cares for jewels he has a lot down in the cellar i have never seen them you know added sylvia looking at her lover

nor have deborah or bart but they are there bart and deborah say so has your father ever said so no he won't speak of his business in the cellar when the shop is closed at seven he sends bart away home and locks deborah and i in the house that is she explained anxiously lest paul should think her father a tyrant he locks the door which leads to the shop we can walk all over the house but there we stop till next morning when father unlocks the door at seven and bart takes down the shutters we have lived like that for years on sunday evenings however father does not go to the cellar but takes me to church he has supper with me upstairs and then locks the door at ten But he sleeps upstairs? No, he sleeps in the cellar. Impossible! There is no accommodation for sleeping there.

Sylvia explained. There is another cellar, a smaller one, off the large place he has the safe-s-in. The door is in a dark corner, almost under the street-line. This smaller cellar is fitted up as a bedroom, and my father has slept there all his life. I suppose he is afraid of his jewels.

being stolen. I don't think it is good for his health, added the girl wisely, for often in the morning he looks ill, and his hands shake. Sylvia, does your father drink alcohol? Oh, no, Paul, he is a teetotaler, and is very angry at those who drink to excess. Why, once Bart came to the shop a little drunk, and father would have discharged him but for Deborah. Paul said nothing but thought the more. Often it had struck him that Norman was a drunkard, though his face showed no signs of indulgence, for it always preserved its paleness. But the man's hands shook, and his skin often was drawn and tight with the shiny look suggestive of indulgence. He either drinks or smokes opium, thought Paul, on hearing Sylvia's denial, but he said nothing to her of this.

I must go home now, she said, rising. Oh, no, not yet, he implored. Well, then, I'll stay for a few minutes longer, because I have something to say, she remarked and sat down again. Paul, do you think it is quite honorable for you and I to be engaged without the consent of my father? Well, hesitated, Bicott, I don't think it is as it should be. Were I well off, I should not fear to tell your first.

father everything but as i am a pauper he would forbid my seeing you did he learn that i had raised my eyes to you but if you like i'll speak though it may mean our parting forever paul she laid a firm small hand on his arm not all the fathers in the world will keep me from you often i have intended to tell all but my father is so strange sometimes he goes hold days without speaking to me, and at times he speaks harshly, though I do nothing to deserve rebuke. I'm afraid of my father, said the girl with a shiver. I said so before, and I say so again. He is a strange man, and I don't understand him at all. I wish I could marry you and go away altogether. Well, let us marry, if you like, though we will be poor. No, said Sylvia, sorrowfully. After all, strange and harsh, though my father is, he is still my father, and at times he is kind. I must stay with him to the end. What end? Sylvia shook her head

still more sorrowfully. Who knows? Paul, my father is afraid of dying suddenly. By violence, asked Beacott, thinking of Deborah's talk. I can't say, but every day after six he goes to church and praise all alone. Deborah told me, as often she has seen him, leave the church. Then he is afraid of every stranger who enters the shop. I don't understand it, cried the girl passionately. I don't like it. I wish you would marry me and take me away, Paul. But, oh, how selfish I am. My own, I wish I could, but the money? Oh, never mind the money. I must get away from that house. If it was not for Deborah, I would be still more afraid. I often think my father is mad, but there she rose and shook out her skirts. I have no right to talk so, and only do so

to you, that you may know what I feel. I'll speak to my father, myself, and say we are engaged. If he forbids our marriage, I shall run away with you, Paul. said poor Sylvia the tears in her eyes. I am a bad girl to talk in this way. After all, he is my father. Becott had an ardent desire to take her in his arms and kiss away those tears, but the publicity of the meeting place denied him the power to console her in that efficacious fashion. All he could do was to assure her of his love, and then they walked out of the

the gardens towards the strand. I'll speak to your father myself, said Paul. We must end this necessary silence. After all, I am a gentleman, and I see no reason why your father should object. I know you are everything that is good and true, said Sylvia, dry in her eyes. If you are not, Debbie would not have let me become engaged to you. She finished childishly. Debbie made inquiries about me, said Paul, laughing, to change.

cheer her. Yes, she sent Bart to Wargrove and found out all about me and my family and my respected father. She wished to be certain that I was a proper lover for her darling. I am your darling now, whispered Sylvia, squeezing his arm, and you are the most charming lover in the world. Paul was so enchanted with this speech that he would have defied public opinion by embracing her there and then. But Sylvia walked rapidly down, Gwynstreet, and shook her head with a pursed-up mouth when Paul took a few steps after her. Recognizing that it would be wise not to follow her to the shop, lest the suspicious old

man should be looking out, Bicott went on his homeward way. When he drew near his Bloomsbury Garrett, he met Grafton Hay, who was sauntering along swinging his cane. I was just looking for you, he said, greeting Paul, in his usual self-contained manner. It worries me to think that you are so hard up, though I am not a fellow given the sentiment as a rule. Let me lend you a fiver. Paul shook his head.

Thank you all the same. Well, then, sell me the brooch. Becott suddenly looked squarely at Hay, who met his gaze calmly. Do you know anything of that brooch he is? asked. What do you mean? It is a brooch of Indian workmanship. That is all I know. I want to give a lady a present, and if you will sell it to me, I'll take it to help you, thus killing two birds at one shot. I don't want to sell it, said Paul, looking round. His eyes fell on a respectable man across the road, who appeared to be a workman as he had a bag of tools on his shoulder.

He was looking into his shop window, but also, as Paul suddenly thought, seemed to be observing him in Hay. However, the incident was not worth noticing. So he continued his speech to Graftston. I tried upon it with Aaron Norman, he said. Well, what did you get on it? asked Hay, with a yawn. Nothing. The old man fainted when I showed him the brooch.

That is why I asked you, if you know anything strange about the article. hay shook his head but looked curiously at beacot do you know anything yourself he asked you seem to have something on your mind about that brooch there is something queer about it said paul why should aaron norman faint when he saw it hey yawned again you had better ask your one-eyed friend i think you said he was one-eyed he is and a frightened sort of man but there is nothing about that opal serpent to make him faint perhaps he did so because it is in the shape of a serpent suggested graxton constitutional failing perhaps some people hate cats and others fluttering birds your one-eyed friend may have a loathing of a serphered of snakes and can't bear to see the representation of one it might be that said becott after a pause aaron is a strange sort of chap a man with a past i should say you make me curious said graxton laughing in a bored manner i think i'll go to the shop myself and have a look at him come with me when i next go said paul i had intended to call this afternoon but i won't until i hear from my mother what about i want to learn how she came into possession of the brooch pooh nonsense said hey contemptuously you think too much about the thing who cares if a pawnbroker faints why i wish to go to the shop is because i am anxious to see your lady love well when you do want me to go send for me you have my address day old man

and the gorgeous being sauntered away with apparently not a care in the world to render him anxious paul was anxious however the more he thought of the episode of the brooch the stranger it seemed and sylvia's talk of her father's queer habits did not make paul wonder the less however he resolved the right to his mother and was just mounting his stairs to do so when he heard a beg pardon sir and beheld the working man bag of tools pipe and all beg pardon sir said the man civilly but that gentleman you wasn't talking to know his name sir what the devil's that to you asked paul angrily nothing sir only he owes me a little bill go and ask him for it then i don't know his address sir oh be hanged paul went on when the man spoke again he's what i call a man on the market sir have a care and he departed quickly paul stared what did the working man mean and was he a working man end of chapter three chapter four of the opal serpent by fergus yume this librivox recording is in the public domain the unforeseen paul did not go near the gwynstreet shop for the next few days much as he wanted to do so being deeply in love he could hardly bear to be away from sylvia even for a few hours but in spite of this he remained away for two reasons the first of these was that he awaited a reply to his letter written to mrs becott as he wished to be able to tell aaron norman where the brooch had been obtained

he thought by doing this to ingratiate himself with the old man and perhaps if thus confidential might learn for the satisfaction of his curiosity why the sight of the brooch had produced such an effect on the pawnbroker the other reason was that not having been able to sell the brooch or rather pawn it since he did not wish to lose it altogether funds were running low and now he had but a few shillings left a call at the office of a penny weekly had resulted in the return of three stories as being too long and not the sort required but the editor in a hasty interview admitted that he liked paul's work and would give him three pounds for a tale written on certain lines likely to be popular with the public paul did not care to set forth another person's ideas especially as these were old and very sensational but as he required money he set the work and labored to produce what would bring him in the cash he made several attempts before he reached the editor's level which was low rather than high and succeeded in getting the tale accepted with three golden pounds in his pocket and exultation in his heart for every success seemed to bring him nearer to sylvia paul returned to his aerial castle and found waiting for him the expected letter it was written in a low-spirited sort of way characteristic of mrs becott but with a true motherly heart after two pages of lamentation over his absence and a description of how the head of the household managed to bear up against the affliction of his son's absence mrs becott proceeded to explain about the brooch

why do you ask me about that opal brooch my dear boy wrote mrs becott in her scratchy handwriting all i know is that your father bought it out of a pawnbroker shop in stowley which is some town in the midlands your father was travelling there and saw the brooch by chance as i always thought opal's unlucky he was anxious to make me see the folly of such a superstition so he bought the brooch and took it away with him afterwards i believed he received a letter from the pawnbroker saying that his assistant had sold the brooch by mistake that the time for redeeming it had not run out when your father bought it the pawnbroker asked that the brooch might be returned and wanted to pay back the money but you know what your father is he refused at once to give back the brooch and insisted on my wearing it i had a bad fall while wearing it and then was thrown out of that high dog-cart your father would insist on driving i am sure the brooch or the stones is unlucky and as after a time your father forgot all about it i let it lie in my jewel-case for years i had not worn it and as i think it is unlucky and as you need money my darling boy i hope you will sell it there is no need to pawn it as you say i never want to see the brooch again but regarding your health etc etc so mrs becott wrote in her verbose style and with some errors of grammar paul saw in her simple tale fresh evidence of his father's tyranny since he made his wife wear gems she detested and were superstitiously set against possessing them the dog-cart episode paul remembered very well

mr beecott in his amiable way had no patience with his wife's nerves and never lost an opportunity of placing her in unpleasant positions whereby she might be what he called hardened paul sighed to think of his mother's position as he folded up the letter she had a bad time with the truculent husband she had married and i can't believe she became his wife of her own free will thought paul Probably the governor bullied her into it in his own sweet way. However, there was nothing in the letter to explain Norman's faint. It was certainly strange that the pawnbroker, from whom the brooch had been originally purchased, should have demanded it back, and the excuse given seems rather a weak one. However, Paul did not waste time in thinking over this, but resolved to tell Aaron what his mother had said. he had received two letters from sylvia mentioning amongst other things that her father now quite well was asking after paul and urging him to come and see him

my father appears to have a fancy for you wrote sylvia so if you are very nice as nice as you can be perhaps he won't be very angry if you tell him we are engaged there was much more to that same effect which paul thought good advice and he attended to his very angry if you tell him we are engaged there was much more to that same effect which paul thought good advice and he attended to his adopt the same. It was necessary that he should tell Aaron of his love if things were to be conducted in a straightforward and honorable manner, and Paul had no desire to conduct them otherwise. Having made up his mind to see Aaron again, Paul bethought himself of Grafton Hay. That gentleman had never appeared again at the Bloomsbury Garrett and had never even written. But Paul was anxious that, hey, whom he regarded as a clever man of the world, should see the old man, and, as our transatlantic cousins say, sighs him up. Norman's manner and queer life puzzled Paul not a little. Not being very worldly himself, he was anxious to have the advice of his old school

friend, who seemed desirous of doing him a good turn. Witness his desire to buy the brooch so that Paul might be supplied with money. So Bicott wrote the Grafton Hay at his Camden Hill Chamber and told him he intended to go to Gwynne Street on a certain day at a certain time. To this Grafton responded by saying that he was at Paul's service and would come especially as he wanted to see Dalsania of Gwynne Street. Paul laughed at the phrase. I suppose Glaxen thinks I am very quixotic, he thought, coming to London to tilt with the windmills of the press. But Don Quixote was wise, in spite of his apparent madness, and Glaxen will recognize my wisdom

when he sees my dulcinea, bless her. I wonder if Hay could pacify my father and make him look more kindly on my ambitions. Glaxon is a clever fellow and a thoroughly good chap. So? Here Paul paused to think. The incident of the working man and the warning he had been given about hay recurred to his mind.

Also the phrase man on the market stuck in his memory. Why should Graftston Hay be called so? And what did the phrase mean? Paul had never heard it before. Moreover, from certain indications Becott did not think that the individual with a bag of tools was a working man.

he rather appeared to be a person got up to play the part the fellow watching them both and accosting paul alone certainly seemed a doubtful character becotte regretted that he had been so short with the man else he might have learned why he had acted in this way the story of the little bill was absurd for if graxton owed the man money the man himself would certainly have known the name and address of his creditor altogether the incident puzzled paul almost as much as that of aaron's fainting and he resolved to question graxton but it never crossed his mind that hay was anything else but what he appeared to be a man about town with a sufficient income to live upon comfortably had paul doubted he would never have asked raxon to go with him to gwynne street however he had done so and the appointment was made so there was no more to be said the man about town duly made his appearance to the very minute i always keep appointments he explained when paul congratulated him on his punctuality there's nothing annoys me so much as to be kept waiting so i invariably practised what i preach well paul and how is dulcinea of gwynne street she is very well replied paul who was still a young enough lover to blush but i have not seen her since we last met i waited for a letter from my mother about the brooch so that i might explain to aaron how she got it the old man has been asking about me oh confound the brooch said graxton in his cool manner i don't want to hear about it let us talk of dulcinea rather let us talk of yourself said paul not an interesting subject replied hay rising as paul opened his garret door for departure you know all about me no i don't know why you are called a man on the market

hay flushed and turned sharply what do you mean he asked in a particularly quiet tone i don't know what i do mean said paul do you remember that working man with a bag of tools who was across the first of the same thing he asked in a particularly quiet tone i don't know what i do mean said paul do you remember that working man with a bag of tools who was across the road when we last conversed?" "'No,' said Hay, staring. I never noticed creatures of that class. Why? Because he asked me who you were and where you lived. It seems you owe him some money. That is very probable, said Hay, equably.

I owe most people money. If this man has a debt against me, he would certainly know all about me, as to address and name. So I thought, replied Paul, but the queer thing is, that he told me to take care and called you a man on the market what does it mean i never heard the phrase before i have said hay proceeding calmly down the somewhat steep stairs a man on the market means one who wants to marry and is eligible for any heiress who comes along with a sufficient rent roll but why should a fellow like that talk the shibble-leth of society paul shrugged his shoulders i can't say perhaps the man guessed i intended to take you to see sylvia and warned me against you as it seems from his phrase that you wish to marry ah then your dulcinea isn't arras said hay fixing his eye glass carefully if so you needn't fear me i'm almost engaged and won't be on the market any longer what confounded cheek this fellow addressing you in that way

and talking of me as he did. I suppose he added, with a cold laugh. It is not necessary for me to defend myself. What rubbish, replied Becock good-naturedly, all the same. It is strange that the man should have spoken to me as he did. I told him to go to the devil. And go to the devil he assuredly will, if I beat him, was a dry reply.

I'll break his head for not minding his own business. I think I can explain. and will do so as soon as you take that telegram the lad is holding out for you graxton was quicker sighted than paul for the moment they arrived at the bottom of the stairs and were about to emerge into the street he saw the messenger do you know if any gent of that name lives here governor asked the boy holding out the buff colored envelope bickott to his surprise saw his own name who can be wiring to me he said taking the boy holding out the buff colored envelope bickok to his surprise saw his own name who can be wiring to me he said taking the the telegram. Wait, boy, there may be an answer, and he skimmed it through the lines. Don't sell the brooch, but send it back, read Paul, puzzled, your father, angry, mother. He paused and looked at the boy. Got a form, he asked. The lad produced one and a stumpy pencil. With these materials, Bicott wrote a reply, saying the brooch would be returned on the morrow.

When the boy went away with the answer, Paul felt in his breast pocket and took out the old blue case. I have a good mind to send it now, he said aloud. What's that, asked Hay, who is yawning at the door. No bad news, I hope. It's about that brooch again. Hay laughed. Upon my word, it seems to you, what the monster was to Frankenstein, said he. sent it back to Mrs. Becott, I presume, and have done with it. He cast a glance at the case. I see you have it with you, he ended lightly.

Yes, said Paul, and replacing the case in his pocket, went down the street with his friend. Then he determined to ask his opinion, and related the gist of Mrs. B. Cox's letter. And now the mater wishes to have it back, he said. I expect my father has found out that she sent her. it to me and is furious. Well, send it back and have done with it, said, hey, impatiently. You are in danger of becoming a bore with that brooch, Beacott. I'll lend you money if you like.

No, thanks. I have three pounds honestly earned. However, we'll speak no more of the brooch. I'll send it back this very day. Tell me, he linked his arm within that of his friend. Tell me of that man. the man of the working creature said hey absently pooh the man was no more a working man than i am well i thought myself he was a bit of a fraud detectives never do make up well said graxton calmly paul stopped as they turned into oxford street what was the man a detective i think so from your description of his conversation the fact is i'm in love with a lady who is married

we have behaved quite well and no one can say a word against us but her husband is a beast and wants a divorce i have suspected for some time that he is having me watched thanks to you paul i am now sure so perhaps you'll understand why the man warns you against me and talk of my being a man on the market i see said paul hesitatingly but don't get into trouble hey oh i'm all right and i don't intend to do anything dishonorable if that is what you mean it's the husband's fault not mine by the way can you describe the fellow yes he had red hair and a red beard rather a ruddy face and walked with a limp all put on said hay contemptuously probably the limp was affected the beard false the hair of wig and the face rouged very clumsy indeed I dare say he'll appear pale and gentlemanly the next time he watches me. I know the tricks of these fellows. The two friends talked for some time about this episode, and then branched off into other subjects.

Hay described the married lady he adored, and Paul rebuked him for entertaining such a passion. "'It is not right, Hay,' said he positively. "'You can't respect a woman who runs away from her husband.' she hasn't run away yet sir galahad laughed graxton by jove you are an innocent if that means respecting the institution of marriage and adoring women as angels i hope i'll remain an innocent oh women are angels of course said hey as they walk down gwynstreet it's a stock phrase in love-making but there are angels of two sort dulcinea is here we are interrupted paul quickly somehow it irritated him to hear this hardened sinner speak of sylvia and he began to think that graxton hay had deteriorated not that he was considered to be particularly good at torrington's school in fact paul remembered that he had been thoroughly disliked however he had no time to go into the matter

for at this moment aaron appeared at the door of the shop he stepped out on to the pavement as paul approached come in he said i want to see you privately he added casting a frightened look at hay in that case i'll leave you said graxton disengaging his arm from paul dulcinea must wait for another occasion go in and do your business i'll wait without paul thanked his friend by a look and went into the shop with the old man that brooch said aaron in a timid whisper have you got it give it to me quick quick there was no one in the shop as bart had apparently gone out on an errand the door leading to the stairs down which sylvia had so often descended was closed and no one was about to overhear their conversation i have the brooch said paul but give it to me give it panted aaron i'll buy it at a large price ask what you want why are you so eager to get it demanded beecotte astonished that's my business said norman in a suddenly imperious manner i wanted the stone takes my fancy he ended weakly was that why you fainted asked paul suspiciously no the man grew white and leaned against the counter breathing heavily where did you get the brooch he asked trying to keep himself calm but with a visible effort i got it from my mother and she received it from my father be caught be caught said the old man fingering his lips much agitated i know no one of that name save yourself and you are not a spy a scoundrel a-a

he caught the eyes of paul fixed on him in amazement and suddenly changed his tone he suddenly changed his tone he Excuse me, but the brooch reminds me of trouble. You have seen it before? Yes, that is no, don't ask me. He clutched at his throat as though he felt choked. I can't talk of it, I dared. How did your father get it? More and more astonished, Paul explained.

Aaron listened with his one eye very bright and made uneasy motions with his lean hands as the young man spoke. when becott ended he bit his nails yes yes he murmured to himself it would be asked for back but it shan't go back i wanted sell it to me mr becott i'm sorry i can't replied paul good-naturedly but my mother wired that it was to be returned my father has discovered that she sent it to me and is not pleased did you tell your mother you had shown it to me no there was no need god bless you, breathe the man, pulling out a crimson handkerchief. Of course there was no need, he tittered, nervously. It doesn't do the talk of pawning things.

Not respectable, huh? Huh? He wiped his face and passed his tongue over his white lips. Well, you won't sell it to me? I can't, but I'll ask my mother if she will. No, no, don't do that. Say nothing, say nothing. I don't want the brooch.

I never saw the brooch. what brooch pooh pooh don't talk to me of the brooch and so he babbled on mr norman said becock gravely what is the story connected with the brooch aaron flung up his hands and back towards the counter no no don't ask me what do you mean i know no story of a brooch what brooch i never saw one i never ah he broke off in relief as two pale-faced spectacled girls entered the shop customers what is it ladies how can i serve you and he bustled away behind the counter giving all his attention to the customers yet not without a side-long look in the direction of the perplexed paul that young gentleman finding it impossible to get further speech with aaron and suspecting from his manner that all was not right left the the shop. He determined to take the brooch to Wargrove himself and to ask his mother about it. Then he could learn why she wanted it back, if not from her, then from his father. This knowledge might explain the mystery.

Did you sell the brooch, asked Raxton, as they walked up Wind Street? No, I have to send it back to my mother, and— Hold on, cried Hay, stumbling. Orange-bill. Ah! his stumble knocked paul into the middle of the road a motor-car was coming down swiftly before hay could realize what had taken place paul was under the wheels of the machine end of chapter four chapter five of the opal serpent by fergus hume this libravox recording is in the public domain trouble oh debby wept sylvia he will die he will die not he my precious pet said the handmaiden fondling the girl's soft hands with her own hard ones them sort of young man have as many lives as tom cats bless you my flower he'll be up and ready waiting at the altar before the fashions change and that's quick enough added deborah rubbing her stub nose for there's always an altering and a turning and a changing of em the two were in the sitting-room over the book-shop it was a low-ceiling apartment long and narrow with windows back and front as it extended the whole depths of the house the back windows looked out on the dingy little yard

but these norman had filled in with stained glass of a dark color so that no one could see clearly out of them why he had done so was a mystery to sylvia though deborah suspected the old man did not want any one to see the many people who came to the back steps after seven from the front windows could be seen the street and the opposite houses and on the sills of the windows sylvia cultivated a few cheap flowers which were her delight the room was furnished with all manner of odds and ends flotsam and jetsam of innumerable sales attended by aaron there were japanese screens empire sofas mahogany chairs persian praying mats louise quartz tables arabic tiles warchester china an antique piano that might have come out of the ark and many other things of epochs which had passed away sylvia herself bloomed like a fair flower amidst this wreckage of former times but the flower drooped at this moment and seemed in danger of dying for lack of sunshine that indeed had been taken away by the removal of the young lover bart who had witnessed the accident returned hastily to tell sylvia and so great had the shock of the dreadful news been that she had fainted whereupon the foolish shopman had been severely dealt with by deborah when sylvia recovered however she insisted on seeing bart again and then learned that paul had been taking to charing cross hospital they drawed him from under the wheels miss as white has a vellum binding as ain't been used the gent as he was a walking arm in arm with slipped and

and knocked Mr. Becott spinning under the steam engine. So did Bart describe the latest triumph of civilization. He was that sorry in a cold-blooded way as I never saw. He helped to get Mr. Beacott into a cab and drove off. Then I come to tell you. And a nice way you've told it, grunted Deborah, driving him to the door. Get back to the shop, you thread paper of a man. My husband shall never be such a fool, the engagement's off. Oh, Debbie, whimpered Bart, who, strange to say, was fondly attached to the stout servant, but that may have been habit. Get along with you, she said, and bang the door in his face, and don't tell Master,

she bawled after him, else he'll be fainting again, drat him, for a lily-livered duck. So Aaron never knew that the man who possessed a brooch had been run over by a motion. or was in the hospital. Sylvia and Deborah both tried to look as cheerful as possible and schemed how to see the lover who had thus been laid low. Deborah boldly announced that she was taking Sylvia to buy her a new dress. That is, to choose it, for the cost was to be paid out of the servant's wages and went with her one afternoon to the hospital. They heard that Paul's arm was broken and that he had been slightly hurt about the head. But there was no danger of his dying, and although they were not allowed to see him,

the two women returned greatly cheered. But Sylvia frequently gave way to low spirits, thinking that at any moment the good symptoms might give way to bad ones. Deborah always cheered her and went daily to get news. Always, she returned to say, he's a-going-on nicely and has the color as he might be a sunset. So Sylvia was bright until her next fit of low spirits came. Meanwhile, their attention was taken up by the odd behavior of Aaron. The old man suddenly announced that he was about to sell the shop and retire, and displayed a feverish haste in getting rid of his stock even at a low price.

Whether he sold the jewels so cheap as the books, no one ever knew, but certainly the pundit casted well out of the sale. Within the week the shop below was denuded, and there were nothing but bare shelves, much to the disgust of Bart, who, like Othello, found his occupation gone. The next day the furniture was to be sold, and when Deborah was comforting Sylvia at the week's end, the fiat had already gone forth. whither he intended to transfer his household the old man did not say and this in particular was the cause of sylvia's grief she dreaded lest she should see her lover no more this she said to deborah see him you shall and this very day cried the maiden cheerfully why there's that dress i can't make up my mind whether to have magenta or lilac both being suited to my complexion not that it's cream of the woman of my mind whether to have magenta or lilac both being suited to my complexion

not that it's cream of the valley smothered in rosebuds as yours is my angel but a dress i must have and your pa can't deny my taking you to choose but debby it seems wrong to deceive father in this way it do admitted debby and it is we'll speak this very night you and me in duets as you might say my pretty he shan't say as we've gone to hide behind a hedge but we have debby for six months said sylvia because i'm a hardened and bold creature said deborah fiercely so don't say it's you has held your tongue for that you didn't my honeycomb many and many a times have you said to me says you oh do tell my pa and many a times i have said to you says i know my precious not for joseph whoever he may be drat him now debby you're taking all the blame on yourself and who have the broader shoulders you or me my flower asked debby fondly i'm as wicked as bart and that's saying much for the way he bolts his food is dreadful to think of never will i have a crocodile for a husband but here cried deborah beginning to bustle it's the dress i'm thinking of magenta or lilacs in full bloom what do you think my honey-pot so the end of deborah's shameless diplomacy was that the two went not to the inferior drapers where debby bought her extraordinary garments though they went there later in a jesuitical manner but to the hospital where her joy sylvia was allowed to see paul he looked thin and pale but was quite himself and very cheerful my darling he said kissing sylvia's hand while debby sat bolt upright near the bed

with a large handbag and played propriety by glaring now i shall get well quickly the sight of you is better than all medicine i should think so sniffed debby graciously where's your orchards with such a color you mean orchids debby laughed sylvia who blushed the rosy red it stem things with lady slippers a size too large for your foot i'm thinking of pet and smollet is enough for glass boots as the fairy story do tell but i'm a taking up the precious time of billing and cooing so i'll shut my mouth and my ears while you let loose with your effig my sweet ones, if you'll excuse the liberty, sir, me being as fond of my lovely there as you is your own self. No, I can't admit that, said Paul, kissing Sylvia's hand again and holding it while he talked. Darling, how good of you to come and see me. It may be for the last time, Paul, said Sylvia, trying to keep back her tears, but you'll give me your address and I'll write.

Oh, Sylvia, what is it? my father has sold the books and is selling the house we are going away where to i don't know ten buck too would suit him snapped debby suddenly he's trying to get into some rabbit hole why i don't know i do said paul lying back thoughtfully he guessed that aaron was moving because of the brooch though why he should do so was a mystery sylvia he asked did your father see my accident no paul he was busy in the shop bart saw it but debby said he wasn't to tell father because of the fainting explained debby the man ain't strong though sampson he may think himself and goliath too for all i care but why ask mr becott paul did not reply to her but asked sylvia another question do you remember that opal brooch i showed you the serpent yes well it's lost lost paul the young man nodded mournfully i'm very vexed about it he said in a low tone my mother wanted it back i was going to send it that very day but when i met with the accident it got lost somehow. It wasn't in my pocket when my clothes were examined, though I asked for it as soon as I became conscious. My friend also couldn't tell me.

Him has caused the smashes, said Deborah, with several sniffed. A nice pretty friend, I do say, sir. It wasn't his fault, Deborah. Mr. Hay stumbled on a piece of orange peel and jostled against me. I was taken by surprise and fell into the middle of the road. just as the motor came along mr hay was more than sorry and has come to see me every day with books and fruit and all manner of things the least he could do snapped the servant knocking folks in the hospitals with his fine gent airs i saw him out of the window while you was in the shop and there he spoke lauddy law to a brat of a boy as ought to be in jail seeing he smoked the cigar stump and him but a ten-year-old gutter snipe, says I, Oh, a painted maple you is. I says, with a face

as hard, has bath-bricks, and a bad one you are, says I. No, Deborah, you are wrong. Mr. Hay is my friend. Never shall he be my pretty's friend, declared Debbie, obstinately, for if all the wickedness in him would come out in his face,

pimples, would be as sick as smuts in a London fog. No, Mr. Bacott, call him not what you do call him, meaning friend, for Judas and Julius Caesar ain't in it with his beasel-bubness. Bicott saw it was vain to stop this chatter, so he turned the talk and whispers to Sylvia, while Debbie murmured on like a brook, only she spoke loud enough at times to drown the whispering of the lovers. Sylvia, said Paul softly, I want you to send your father to me.

Yes, Paul. why do you wish to see him because he must be told of our love i don't think he will be so hard as you think i am ashamed of not having told him before i like to act honorably and i fear of sylvia darling we have not been quite fair to your father i think so too paul and i intended to speak when we went home but give me your address so that if we go away unexpectedly i'll be able to write to you becott gave her his bloomsbury address and also that of his old home at wargrove in essex write care of my mother he said then my father won't get the letter would he be angry if he knew asked a girl timidly paul laughed to himself at the thought of the turkey-cock's rage i think he would dearest said he but that does not matter be true to me and i'll be true to you Here the nurse came to turn the visitors away on the plea that Paul had talked quite enough. Debbie flared up, but became meek when Sylvia lifted a reproving finger. Then Paul asked Debbie to seek his Bloomsbury lodgings and bring him any letters that might be waiting for him.

I expect to hear from my mother and must write and tell her of my accident, he said. I don't want the trouble Mr. Hay, but you, Debbie. bless you mr becott it ain't no trouble said the servant cheerfully and better me nor that haughty peacock as ain't to be trusted says what you will seein criminals is a looking out of his eyes hide one though he may with a piece of glass and i says you must go now please interpose the nurse oh thank you ma'am but my own mistress as is a lady do i obey only debby debby murmured sylvia and after kissing paul a farewell which debby strove to hide from the nurse by getting in front of her and blocking the view the two departed the nurse laughed as she arranged paul's pillows what a strange woman mr beecott very assented paul quite a character and as true as the needle of the compass meanwhile debby ignorant of this flattering description conducted sylvia to the draper shop and finally fixed on a hideous magenta gown which she ordered to be made quite plain with none of your faulty laws commanded miss junk snorting plain sewing and good stuff is all i ask for and if there's any left over you can send home as at the same which i can brighten with cocks feathers as my mother wore at her wedding they're my own added debby as they emerged from the shop and took a bust of wind street

that's as you'll always see me dressed plain and homely with no more trimmings than you'll see on a washing-day gent as i know to my cost from my ma's economical's economy debby it ain't for me to be using fine words miss sylvia cockatoos feathers on a goose they'd be in my mouth the old dictionary can do for you my flower but pot-hooks and angers never was my love me having been at the wash-tub when rising ate and stout at that in this way debby discoursed all the way home on arriving in the room over the shop they found themselves confronted by aaron who looked less timid than usual and glowered at the pair angrily where have you been sylvia he asked the girl could not tell a direct lie and looked at debby that handmaiden less scrupulous was about to blurt forth a garbled account when sylvia stopped her with a resolute expression on her pretty face no debby she commanded let me speak father i have been to see mr beacott at charing cross-host hospital and you couldn't have my flower do less as a good samaritan put in debby anxiously so as to avert the storm girls as girls whatever you may think sir of them being dolls and dummies and hold your tongue woman cried norman fiercely let me talk why is mr beckot in the hospital he was knocked down said sylvia quietly and his arm is broken a motor-car ran over him in gwynne street he was knocked down said sylvia quietly and his arm is broken a motor-car ran over him in gwynne street he was to see you, to tell you that he lost something.

Norman turned even wider that he was by nature, and the perspiration suddenly beat his bald forehead. The opal serpent, he cried. Yes, the brooch he showed me. He showed you, cried Aaron with a groan, and what did he tell you about it? What, what, what the truth, or? He became passionate. Debbie grasped Aaron's arm and whirled him into the middle.

of the room like a feather. Then she planted herself before Sylvia, with her arms akimbo, and glared like a lioness. You can pinch me, sir, or give me black eyes and red noses if you like, but no finger on my precious if I die for it. Aaron was staggered by this defiance, and looked fierce for the moment. Then he became timid again, and cast the odd, anxious look over his shoulder. Leave the room, Deborah, he said, said in a mild voice. The faithful maid replied by sitting down and folding her arms. "'Get your wild horses, sir,' she said, breathing heavily, "'for only by them will I be tugged away.'

And she snorted it so loudly that the room shook. Shaw said Norman Crossley. Sylvia, don't be afraid of me. He wiped his face nervously. I only want to know of the brooch. I like the opals. I wanted to buy it from Mr. Beacott. He is spruce. He is poor. He wants money. I can give it to him for the brooch. He brought out the last words with a gasp, and again glanced over his shoulder. Sylvia, not at all afraid, approached, and took the old man's hand. The watchful Deborah moved her chair and inch near her,

so as to be ready for any emergency. Dear father, said the girl, Mr. Bicott doesn't know where the brooch is. It was stolen from him. when the accident happened. If you will see him, he can tell you. Not where the brooch is, interrupted Aaron, trying to appear calm. Well, well, it doesn't matter. He glanced anxiously at Sylvia. You believe me, child, when I say it doesn't matter. A snort from Deborah plainly said that she had her doubts. Sylvia cast a reproving glance in her direction,

whereupon she rose and committed perjury. Of course it don't matter, sir, she said. said, in a loud, hearty voice, which made Aaron wince, My precious believes you, though lie it might be. But folks so good as you, sir, who go to church when there ain't anyone to see, wouldn't tell lies without them a choking of them in their blessed throats. How do you know I go to church? asked Norman, with the snarl of a trapped animal. Bless you, sir, I don't need glasses at my age, though not so young as I might be.

be. Church you enjoy, say what you may, you being as regular as the taxes, which is saying much. Lord, save us all. Deborah might well exclaimed this. Her master flung himself forward with outstretched hands, cloying at the air, and with his lips lifted like those of an enraged dog. You she-cat, he said, in a painfully hissing voice. You're a spy, are you? They've set you to watch, to drag me to the gallows. He broke off with a shiver. His rage cooled as suddenly as it had heated. And staggering to the sofa, he sat down with his face hidden. Not that, not that. Oh, the years of pain and terror, to come to this, to this, Deborah, don't sell me, don't, I'll give you money, I'm rich. But if the opal serpent, if the opal, he rose and began to beat the air with his hands.

Sylvia, who had never seen her father like this, shrank back in terror. But Deborah, with all her wits about her, though she was wildly astonished, seized a caraff of water from the table and dashed the contents in his face. The old man gasped, shuddered, and dripping wet, sank again on the sofa. But the approaching fit was passed, and when he looked up after a moment or so, his voice was as calm as his face. what's all this he asked feebly nothing father said sylvia dealing beside him you must not doubt debby who is as true as steel are you deborah asked aaron weakly i should think so she declared putting her arms round sylvia so long sir as you don't hurt my flower i don't want to hurt her there's feelings as well as bones said deborah hugging sylvia so as to keep her from speaking

and love you can't squash try as you may though bless you i'm not given to keeping company myself love said aaron vacantly he seemed to think more of his troubles than of sylvia going to visit a young man love and mr becott said deborah she wants to marry him why then said aaron calmly she shall marry him sylvia fell at his feet oh father father i have kept it from you all these months forgive me forgive me and she wept my dear he said gently raising her there is nothing to forgive end of chapter five chapter six of the opal serpent by fergus hume this librivox recording is in the public domain a noise in the night both deborah and sylvia were astonished that aaron should be so indifferent about their long concealment they had expected and-and-sufficient they had expected and and dreaded a storm. Yet, when the secret was told, Mr. Norman appeared to take it as calmly as though he had known about the matter from the first. Indeed, he seemed perfectly indifferent, and when he raised Sylvia and made her sit beside him on the sofa, he reverted to the brooch. I shall certainly see Mr. Beacott, he said, in a dreamy way.

Charing Cross Hospital, of course, I'll go to-morrow. I had intended to see about selling the furniture then, but I'll wait till the next day. I want the brooch first, yes, yes, and he opened and shut his hand in a strangely restless manner. The girl and the servant looked at one another in a perplexed way, for it was odd Norman should take the secret wooing of his daughter so quietly. He had never evinced much interest in Sylvia, who had been left mainly to the rough attentions of Miss Junk, but sometimes he had mentioned that Sylvia would be an heiress and fit to marry a poor peer. The love of Paul Beacott overthrew this scheme.

If the man intended to carry it out, yet he did not seem the mind. Sylvia, thinking entirely of Paul, was glad, and the tense expression of her face relaxed. But Deborah sniffed, which was always an intimation, that she intended to unburden her mind on an unpleasant subject. well sir she said folding her arms and scratching her elbows i do think as offspring ain't lumps of dirt to be trod on in this way i ask she flung out her hands toward sylvia is she your own or is she not she is my daughter said aaron mildly why do you ask cause you don't take interest you should take in her marriage which is made in heaven if ever marriage was norman raised his head like a war-horse at the sound of a trumpet call who talks of marriage he asked sharply dear father said sylvia gently did you not hear i love paul and i want to marry him

aaron stared at her he is not a good match for you was his reply he is the man i loved cried sylvia tapping with her pretty foot love said norman with a melancholy smile there is no such thing child talk of hate for that exists he clenched his hands again hate that is as cruel as the grave well i'm sure sir and what if hates to do with my beauty there has the love existed due for bart's been talked into filling his heart with the same by me i got it out of a family herald explained deborah incoherently where gentry throws themselves on their knees to ask hands in marriage bart was down on his hunkers every night for two weeks before he proposed proper an i says says i will you hold your tongue interrupted aaron angrily you gabbled and gabbled till you make my headache you confuse me i want to clear your head retorted miss junk seeing you take no interest in my pretty's livings norman placed his fingers under sylvia's chin and tipped it up so that he could gaze into her eyes child do you love him he asked gravely oh father whispered sylvia and said no more the expression of her eyes was enough for Aaron, and he turned away with a sigh. "'You know nothing about him,' he said at length.

"'Begin pardon, sir, for being a gambler,' said Deborah, witheringly. "'But I know what he is we do. Fine young gent with long descents and stone figures in churches, as Bart knows, Bacott's Pa's name, as is fighting with Mr. Paul by reason of contraries and eye-living, him being as stout as stout. Perhaps you will explain, Sylvia, said Aaron, turning impatiently from the handmaiden. I should have explained before, said the girl, quietly and very distinctly. I loved Paul from the moment I saw him enter the shop six months ago. He came again and again, and we often talked. He told

me of his love, and I confessed mine. Deborah wanted to know who he was, and if he was a good man. From what I learned of Paul's people, he seemed to be all that was good and generous and high-minded and loving. Deborah sent Bart on holiday to Wargrove in Essex, where Paul's parents live, and Bart found that Paul had left home because he wanted to be an author. Paul is very popular in Wargrove, and everyone speaks well of him. So Deborah thought we might be engaged and— And have you a word to say against it, sir, demanded Deborah.

bristling. No, said Aaron, after a pause, but you should have told me. We should, admitted Sylvia, quickly, but Paul and I feared lest you should say no. My child, said the old man gravely, so long as you wed a kind and good man I have nothing to say. Sylvia, I have worked hard these many years, and have made much money, which by will, I have left to you. When I die, you will be rich.

He is poor. paul yes he is poor but what of that many fathers think that an objection went on aaron without noticing her remark but i do not you shall marry paul before i go to america lower cried deborah whatever are you going there for sir that's my business said aaron dryly but i go as soon as i can i have sold the books and the furniture of these rooms shall be disposed of before the end of the week my gems i take the ansterdam for sale and i go abroad next week when i return in a fortnight you can marry mr becott he is a good young man i quite approve of him deborah snorted seems to me as though you are glad to get quit of my pretty she murmured but too low to be overheard oh father cried sylvia putting her arms around norman's neck how good you are i do love him so i hope the love will continue said her father cynically and removing the girl's arms to the secret indignation of deborah i shall call on mr becock to-morrow and speak to him myself about the matter if we come to an arrangement for i have a condition to make before i give my entire consent i shall allow you a certain sum to live on then i shall go to america and when i die you will inherit all my money when i die when i die you will inherit all my money when i die he added, casting the usual look over his shoulders.

But I won't die for many a long day, he said, with a determined air. At least I hope not. You are healthy enough, father. Yes, yes, but healthy people die in queer ways. Deborah intervened impatiently. I'm glad you wish to make my lily queen happy, sir, she said, nodding. But change your mind you may if Mr. Beacott don't fall in. Fall in, queried Aaron.

With his arrangements, what is they? Aaron looked undecided, then spoke impulsively, walking towards the door as he did so. Let Mr. Beacott give me that opal serpent, he said, and he shall have Sylvia and enough to live on. But, father, it is lost, cried Sylvia in dismay. She spoke to empty air. Norman had hastily passed through the door

and was descending the stairs quicker than usual. Sylvia, in her eagerness to explain, would have followed, but Deborah drew her back with rough gentleness. Let him go, Lily Queen, she said. Let sleeping dogs lie if you love me. Deborah, what do you mean? asked Sylvia, breathlessly. I don't mean anything that have a meaning, said Miss Junk, ignigmatically.

But your paws willing to sell you for that dratted brooch, whatever he wants for it. And you're to be put against the brooch, my honey-pot? Yes, I'm billing, billing hard, and Deborah snorted in proof of the extremity of her rage. Never mind, Debbie. Father consented that I shall marry Paul, and will give us enough to live on.

Then Paul will write great books, and his father will ask him home again. Oh, oh, Sylvia danced round the room gaily. How happy I am. And happy you shall be. if I die for it, shouted Deborah, screwing up her face, for she was not altogether satisfied,

though mysteries I don't hold with are about. America, what's he gone to America for? And with that brooch, and him locking us up every night to sleep in cellars, police courts and old bailies, said Miss Junk frowning, I don't like it, Sunbeam, and when you're married to Mr. Beacott,

I'll be that happy as never was. Sylvia opened her, gray eyes and wide surprise and a little alarm. Oh, Debbie, you don't think there's anything wrong with father. Miss Junk privately thought that there was a good deal wrong, but she folded Sylvia in her stout arms and dismissed the question with a snort. No, lovely, my own, there ain't. It's just my silly way of going on.

Orange buds and brides the sun shines on. It's your fortunes, Miss Sylvia, though how I'm going to call you, Mrs. B.cott? beats me and deborah rubbed her nose i shall always be sylvia to you bless you lady bird but don't ask me to live with mr becott's frantic paw else they'll be scratchings if he don't do proper what he should do and don't so there deborah swung her arms like a windmill my mind's easy and dinner's waiting for love or no love eat you must to keep your inside's clockwork when bart heard the joyful news he was glad but expressed regret that norman should go to america he did not wish to lose his situation and never thought the old man would take him to the states also deborahed that if aaron did want to transport bart so she put it she would object then she unfolded a scheme by which with bart's savings and her own they could start a laundry and i knows a drying ground said deborah while talking at supper to her proposed husband as is lovely and cheap one of them suburbs on the line to essex where my pretty will live when her husband's frantic paw makes it up jubilee towns the place and victoria avenues the street the sweetest cottage at twentypunny year has i ever set eyes on and my sister as is married to a bricklayer is near to help with the family

the family echoed bart looking scared in course they will come though it's early to be thinking of names for em i'll do the washing bart and you'll take round the cart so don't you think things will be otherwise i don't want em to said bart affectionately i always loved you debby "'Ah,' said Miss Junk luxuriously, "'I've taught you, too, in quite a genteel way. "'What a scrubby little brat you were, Bart.' "'Yes,' said Mr. Tossie, eating rapidly, "'I saw myself to-day.' "'In a looking-glass? "'Lord Debbie, no.

"'But there was a brat all rags and dirty face "'and sauce as I was when you saw me first. "'He comes into the shop as bold as brass and asks for a book. I says, What do you want with a book? And he says, Looking at the shelf so empty,

I seize you selling off, he says, so I jumped up to clip him over the head when he cut. Trey's his name, Debbie, and he's the kid, has talked to that cold gent, Mr. Bicott brought along with him when he got smashed. Trey, that's a dog's name, said Deborah.

Old dog Trey, and quite good enough for gutter snipes. as the Mr. Hay, don't ask me to say he's good, for that he ain't. What's he want talking with gutter trays? And what do gutter trays want with books? Asked Bart, though to be sure,

twas impertinence, maybe. Deborah nodded, that it was, and what you'd have done when you was a scrubby thing. Don't boulch your food, but make every bit help you to health and long living. You won't have gourmandizing when we got the lawn. I can tell you."

Next day, Aaron went off in the afternoon to Charing Cross Hospital after holding a conversation with a broker who had agreed to buy the derelict furniture. The shop, being empty, was supposed to be closed, but from force of habit, Bart, took down the shutters and lurked disconsonately behind the bare counter. Several old customers who had not heard of the sale entered, and were disappointed it when they learned that Aaron was leaving. Their lamentations made Bart quite low-spirited. However, he was polite to all. But his manners broke down when a Hindu entered to sell bootlaces. I ain't got nothing to sell and don't want to buy no-how, said Bart violently.

The man did not move, but stood impassively in the doorway like a bronze statue. He wore a dirty red turban, carelessly wound round his small head. An unclean blouse, which had once been white, circled by a yellow handkerchief of some coarse stuff, dark blue trousers and slippers with curled up toes on naked feet. His eyes were black and sparkling, and he had a well-trimmed mustache, which contrasted oddly with his shabby attire.

Hokar is poor. Hokar need money. He whined in a monotone. but with his eyes glancing restlessly round the shop. Give Hokar, give, and he held out the laces. Don't want any, I tell you, shouted Bart tartly. I'll call a peeler if you don't get. Ho Ho! Ho! Who stole the donkey?

cried a shrill voice at the door, and from behind the hawker was poked a tazzled, curly head with a grinning face which sadly needed washing. You leave this cub alone, won't you? He's a pal of mine, do you see? You get along with your pal then, cried Bert indignantly. If he don't understand King's English, you do, Trey. Trey darted into the middle of the shop

and made a face at the indignant shopman by putting his fingers in his mouth to widen it and pulling down his eyes. Hokar never smiled, but showed no disposition to move. Bart angered, at this blocking up the doorway, and by Trey's way. war dance, jumped the counter. He aimed the blow at the gutter-snipes head, but missed it,

and fell full length. The next moment, Trey was dancing on his body with his tongue out derisively. Then Hokar gave a weird smile. K. Lee, he said to himself, Keeley. How the scene would have ended, it is impossible to say. But while Bart strove to rise and overturned Trey, Aaron walked in past the Indian. What's this? He asked. Asked sharply, Tray stopped his dancing on Bart's prostrate body and gave a shrill whistle by placing two dirty fingers in his mouth. Then he darted between Norman's legs and made off. Hokar stood staring at the bookseller and, after a pause, pointed with his finger,

One eye, he said calmly, no good. Aaron was about to inquire what he meant by this insult when the Indian walked to the counter and placed something thereon, after which he moved away, and his voice was heard dying away down the street. Hokar is poor. Hokar made money. Hokar Christian. What's this, demanded Norman, again, assisting Bart roughly to his feet.

Blessed if I know, replied Tauzy, staring. They're mad, I think, and he related the incoming of an Indian and a street Arab. As for that, Trey, said he, growling. I'll punch his blooming head when I meets him again, dancing on me, yeah? Always meddling, that brat, just as he was when Mr. Beacott was smashed. You saw that accident, asked his master, fixing his one eye on him? Yes, said Bart slowly. I did, but Deborah, she told me to say nothing.

Mr. Beacott was smashed, and his friend, the cold-eyed glass gent, pulled him from under the wheels of that there machine with Trey to help him, and between them they carried him to the pavement. Um, said Aaron, resting his chin on his hand, and speaking more to himself than to his assistant. So Trey was on the spot, huh. Bart, having brushed himself, moved behind the counter, and took up what Hokar had left. Why, it's brown sugar, he exclaimed, touching it with his tongue. coarse brown sugar a handful. He stretched out his palm, heaped with a sugar, to his master.

What do that foreign person mean by leaving dirt about? I don't know, nor do I care, snapped Aaron, who appeared to be out of temper, throw it away, which Bart did, after grumbling again, at the impudence of the street-halker. Norman did not go upstairs, but descended to the cellar, where he busied himself, in looking over the contents of the three safes. In these were many small boxes filled with gems of all kind, cut and uncut, also articles of jewelry, consisting of necklaces, bracelets, stars for the hair, brooches, and tiaras. The jewels glittered in the flaring gaslight. Aaron fondled them as though they were living things. You beauties, he whispered to himself,

with his one eye gloating over his hoard i'll sell you though it goes to my heart to part with lovely things but i must i must and then i'll go not to america oh dear no but to the south seas they won't find me there no no i'll be rich and happy and free sylvia can marry and live happy but the serpent he said in a harsh tone oh the opal serpent the pole one broker's shop. Stowley, yes, I know it. I know it, stowly. They want it back, but they shan't. I'll buy it from Beacott by giving him Sylvia. It's lost, lost.

He looked over his shoulder as he spoke in a terrified whisper. Perhaps they have it, and then, then. He leaped up and flung the armful of bobbles he held onto the table. And then I must get away, away. he pulled out three or four coarse sacks of small size and filled these with the jewelry then he tied a cork around the neck of each sack and sealed it afterwards with a sigh he closed the safe and turned down the gas he did not leave by the trap which led through the shop but opened and locked the back door of the cellar ascending the steps and went out into the street through the side passage if they come he thought as he walked into the gathering night they won't find these no no and he hugged the bags closely sylvia upstairs waited anxiously for the return of her father from the hospital as she both wanted to hear how her lover was progressing and what he had said about the permission to mary being given but aaron did not come to supper as was as usual custom

bart said when inquiries were made that the master had gone down into the cellar and was probably there meanwhile according to his usual habit he put up the shutters and departed sylvia and deborah ate their frugal meal and retired the bed the girl much disturbed at the absence of her father outside in the street the passers-by diminished in number and as the night grew darker and the lamps were lighted hardly a person remained in Gwynne Street. It was not a fashionable thoroughfare, and after nightfall, few people came that way. By eleven o'clock there was not a soul about. Even the one policeman, who usually perambulated the street, was conspicuous by his absence. Sylvia in her bed had fallen into a troubled sleep, and was dreaming of Paul, but not happily. She seemed to see him in trouble. Then she woke suddenly, with all her senses of learning. and sat up. Faintly, she heard a wild cry, and then came the twelve strokes of the church bells

announcing midnight. Breathlessly, she waited, but the cry was not repeated. In the darkness, she sat up, listening, until the quarter chimed. Then the measured footsteps of a policeman were heard passing down the street and dying away. Sylvia was terrified. Why, she hardly knew. But she sprang from her bed and hurried into Deborah's room. Wake up, she said, there's something wrong. Deborah was awake in a moment and lighted the lamp. On hearing Sylvia's story, she went down the stairs, followed by the girl. The door at the bottom, strange to say, was not locked.

Deborah opened this, and, peering into the shop, gave a cry of alarm and horror. Lying on the floor was Aaron, bound hand and foot. end of chapter six chapter seven of the opal serpent by fergus hume this librivox recording is in the public domain a terrible night go back go back my precious cried deborah her first thought being how to spare sylvia the sight but the girl remembering that agonized cry which had awakened her faint and far away as it sounded pushed past the servant and ran into the middle of the shop The lamp, held high by Deborah over her head, cast a bright circle of light on the floor, and in the middle of this Sylvia saw her father breathing heavily. His hands were bound behind his back in a painful way. His feet were tightly fastened, and his head seemed to be attached to the floor.

At least, when the body, as it seemed from its stillness, suddenly writhed, it rolled to one side, but the head remained almost. motionless. The two women hung back, clutching each other's hands, and were almost too horrified to move at the sight. Look, look, cried Sylvia, gasping, the mouth. Deborah looked and gave a moan. Aaron's mouth was rigidly closed under a glittering jewel. Deborah bent down, still moaning, so great did the horror of the thing paralyze her speech, and saw the lights flash back from the many diamonds. She saw bluish gleams and then a red sparkle like the ray of the setting sun. It was the opal serpent brooch, and Aaron's lips were fastened together with a stout pin.

On his mouth and across his agonized face, in which the one eye gleamed with terrific meaning, the jeweled serpent seemed to writhe. Oh, poor soul, cried Deborah, falling on her knees, with the lamp still held above her head. Sylvia, see? The girl gasped again, and impulsively knelt also, trying with nerveless fingers to unfasten the cruel pin which sealed the man's lips. He still lived, for they heard him breathing and saw the gleaming eye, but even as they looked, the face grew black.

The eyes opened and closed convulsively. Deborah set down the lamp and tried to raise the head. She could not lift it from the floor. Then the bound feet swung in the air and fell again with a dull thud. The eye remained wide open, staring in a glassy manner. The breathing had stopped, and the body was motionless. He's dead, said Deborah, leaping to her feet and catching away the girl. Help! Help!

Her loud voice rang fiercely through the empty shop and echoed round and round. But there came no answering cry. Not a sound could be heard in the street. On the bare floor was the lamp shining on that dreadful sight. The body with sealed lips and the glittering jewel and leaning against the wall were the two women. Deborah staring at her dead master, but with Sylvia's eyes pressed against her bosom

so that she might not witness the horror, and the stillness deepened weirdly every moment. Sylvia tried to move her head, but Deborah pressed it. closer to her breast. Don't, my pretty, don't, she whispered harshly. I must, I... The girl freed her head from those kind arms with a wrench,

and looked at the gruesome sight. She staggered forward a few steps and then fell back. Debraith received her in her arms, and, thankful that Sylvia had fainted, carried her up the stairs to lay the unconscious girl on her own bed. Then she descended rapidly, locked the door, leading from the shop to the seat, stairs and again looked at the body. The time she had been away was about seven or eight minutes,

and the body still remained, with the one open eyes staring meaninglessly at the ceiling. Deborah, drawn by fascination, like a bird by a serpent, crept forward and touched the head. It moved, and she again tried to lift it. This time she found she could do so. The head she lifted against her breast and then laid it down with horror when she found the bosom of her nightgown was stained with blood. Pulling her wits together, for she felt that she needed them, every one, she examined the head and neck. To her horror, she found round the throat a strong, thin copper wire, which disappeared through a hole in the floor. Apparently, this had been pulled so tightly as to keep the head down and to choke the old man, and so that so that it was a little. And so,

so cruelly as to cut deeply into the flesh. With a moan of horror, Deborah dropped the head and ran to the trap-door in the corner. If anywhere, those who had murdered Aaron Norman were lurking in the cellar, but the trap-door would not open, and then she remembered that it was closed by a bolt underneath. She could not reach the midnight assassin that way. The front door, she gasped, and ran to unbolt it. The bolts were easily removed, but the door.

The door was also locked, and Aaron usually had the key deposited nightly in the cellar by Bart. Repugnant, as it was for her to approach the dead body, Deborah again went forward and felt in the pockets and loose clothing. The man was completely dressed even to an overcoat which he wore. But she could not find the key and wondered what she was to do. Probably the key had been hung up in the cellar as usual. Necessity being the mother of a number of a number.

invention, she remembered that the window glass was fragile, and she ran up in the hope of breaking through. But the stout shutters were up, so Deborah found that she was sealed in the house. Almost in a state of distraction, for by this time her nerve had given way, she unlocked the door to the stairs and ran up three steps at a time to the sitting-room. Here she opened the window and scrambled out onto the ledge among Sylvia's flower-pots. just as she was wondering how she could get down the measured tread of a policeman was heard and by craning her neck deborah saw him coming leisurely along the street swinging his dark lantern on the windows and doors it was a moonlight night and the street was extraordinarily well lighted as the moon shone straightly between the houses gathering her strength for a last effort deborahed as only she could yell

and saw the startled officer spinning round looking up and down and sideways to see where the shrieks came from up up oh look up you fool screamed deborah murder oh murder burst in the door call the police drat you help help by this time she was the center of a circle of bright light for the policeman had located her and his lantern was flashing on her white nightgown as she clung to the window-sill What are you making that noise for? Called up the officer gruffly. Murder, you fool, screamed Deborah. Masters murdered. Number 45. The door's locked.

Break it open. Police, police! Before she finished the sentence, the officer blew his whistle shrilly and ran to the door of the shop, against which he placed his shoulder. Deborah climbed in again by the window and ran down again,

but even then, in her excitement and horror, she did not forget to lock the door leading to the stairs so that sylvia might not be disturbed as she descended she flung a thick shaw over her shoulders which she had caught up when leaving her room though for the rest she had nothing on but a nightgown but the poor woman was too terrified to be troubled by any scruples at the moment and reached the shop to hear heavy blows on the door between the thuds deborah could hear footsteps running inward from every quarter i ain't got the key she shrieked through the keyhole break in the door drat you murder murder from the noise she made those without concluded that some terrible crime was taking place within and redoubled their efforts deborah had just time to leap back after a final scream when the door fell flat on the floor and three policemen sprang into the room with drawn batons and their lights flashing like stars the lamp was still on the floor shedding its heavy yellow light on the corpse master gasped deborah pointing a shaking finger dead the-thus the cellar the-and here she made has to drop A policeman caught her in its arms, but the woman shook herself free. I shan't faint, no, I shan't faint, she gasped.

The cellar, look, look. She ran forward and raised ahead of the dead man. When the officers saw the dangling slack wire disappearing through a hole in the floor, they grasped the situation. The passage outside, cried Deborah, directing operations. The trap door, she ran to it, fast bolted below. and them murdering people are there how many are there asked the policeman while several officers ran round the back through the side passage oh you dratted fool how should i know cried debor there may be one and there may be twenty go and catch them you're paid for it send to number twenty park street bloomsbury for bart who is bart go and fetch him cried debor furious at this delay number twenty park street bloomsbury oh

oh what a night this is i'm goin to see miss sylvia who has fainted and small blame and she made for the locked door an officer came after her go away shrieked debor pushing him back i've got next to nothing on and my pretty is ill go away and do your business seeing she was distracted and hardly knew what she was saying the man drew back and deborah ran up the stairs to sylvia's room where she found the poor grubes and she was distracted and hardly knew what she was saying the man drew back and deborah ran up the stairs to sylvia's room where she found the poor girl still unconscious. Meanwhile, an inspector had arrived, and one of the policemen was detailing all that occurred from the time Deborah had given the alarm at the window. The inspector listened quietly to everything, and then examined the body. Strangled with a copper wire, he said, looking up, Go for a doctor, one of you.

It goes through the floor, he added, touching the wire, which still circled the throat, and must have been pulled from below. examined the cellar. Even as he spoke, and while one zealous officer ran off for a medical man, there was a grating sound, and the trap-door was thrown open. A policeman leaped into the shop and saluted when he saw his superior. By this time the gas had been lighted. "'We've broken down the back door, sir,' said he, the cellar door. It was locked but not bolted. Nothing in the cellar, everything in order, but that wire. He pointed to the the means used for strangling, dangling from the ceiling, and a cross piece of wood is bound

to the lower end. Who does the shop belong to? Aaron Norman, said the policeman, whose beat it was. He's a second-hand bookseller, a quiet, harmless, timid sort of man. Anyone about? No, sir. I passed down Gwynstreet at about a quarter past twelve, and all seemed safe. when i came back later it might have been twenty minutes and more say twenty-five i saw the woman who was down here clinging to a window on the first floor and shouting murder i gave the summons sir and we broke open the door

inspector prince laid down the dead man's head and rose to his feet with a nod i'll go upstairs and see the woman he said tell me when the doctor comes upstairs he examined the sitting-room and like to his feet with a nod i'll go upstairs and see the woman he said tell me when the doctor comes upstairs he examined the sitting-room and lighted the gas therein then he mounted another story after looking through the kitchen and dining-room in a bedroom he found an empty bed but heard some one talking in a room near at hand flinging open the door he heard a shriek and found himself confronted by deborah who had hastily flung on some clothes don't come in she cried extending her arm for i'm just getting miss sylvia round nonsense said the inspector and pushing her roughly aside he stepped into the room on the bed lay sylvia apparently still unconscious but as the man looked at her she opened her eyes with a long sigh deborah put her arms round the girl and began to talk to her in an endearing way shortly sylvia sat up bewildered what is it she asked then her eyes fell on the policeman oh where's my father he's dead pretty said deborah fondling her don't take on so yes i remember the body on the floor the serpent across the mouth oh oh and she fainted again there cried nebara with bitter triumph see what you've done come come said inspector prince though as gently as possible i'm in charge of this case tell me what has happened if you'd use your blessed eyes you'd see murderous happen said miss junk savagely let me attend to my pretty just at this moment a tall young man entered the room it was the doctor the policeman said you were up here he said in a pleasant voice

i have examined the body inspector the man is quite dead and has been strangled and in a cruel manner with the copper wire which has cut into the throat to say nothing of this and the doctor held out the brooch that dratted cried deborah vigorously it's the cause of it all i do believe if i died in saying so and she began to rub sylvia's hands vigorously who is this young lady asked the doctor another patient and well she may be said miss junk call yourself a doctor and don't help me to bring her to do what you can said prince and you he added to deborah come down with me i wish to ask you a few questions deborah was no fool and saw that the inspector was determined to make her do what he wanted besides sylvia was in the hands of the doctor and deborah felt that he could do more than she to bring the poor girl to her senses after a few parting injunctions she left the room and went downstairs with the inspector the police had made no further discovery prince questioned not only the gwynstreet policeman who had given his report but all others who had been in the vicinity but they could tell him nothing no one suspicious had been seen leaving gwynn street north or south so finding that he could learn nothing in this direction Prince turned his attention to the servant. Now then, what do you know, he asked?

Don't say anything likely to incriminate yourself. Me, shouted Deborah, bouncing up with a fiery face. Don't you be taken away my character. Why, I know no more who have done it than a babe unborn. And that's stupid enough. I hopes, Mr. Policeman, oh, indeed, and we pays our taxes to be insulted by you, Mr. Policeman. She was very aggravating, and many a man would have lost his temper. But Inspector Prince was a quiet and self-controlled officer, and he knew how to deal with

his violent class of women. He simply waited till Deborah had exhausted herself, and then gently asked her a few questions. Finding he was reasonable, Deborah became reasonable on her part, and replied with great intelligence. In a few minutes the inspector, by handling her deftly, learned all that she was reasonable. all that had taken place on that terrible night. From the time Sylvia had started up in bed at the sound of that far distant cry of a soul in agony, and that, from what Miss Sylvia says, ended Deborah, was just before the church clock struck the hour of twelve. You came down a quarter of an hour later? I did, when Miss Sylvia woke me, said Deborah.

She was frightened out of her seven senses, and couldn't get up at once. yes it was about twenty minutes after the hour we come down to see it and the woman strong-nerved as she was shuddered hum said the inspector the assassin had time to escape begging your pardon sir them or him or her or it as murdered master was below in the cellar when we saw the corpse not that it was what you'd call a corpse then will you say precisely what you mean deborah did so and with such wealth of detail that even the hardened inspector felt the creeps down his official back there was something terribly mercilessless about the crime the man had been bound like a sheep for the slaughter his mouth had been sealed with a brooch so that he could not cry out and then in the sight of his child and servant had been slowly strangled by means of the copper wire which communicated with the cellar one of the policemen brought up an auger which evidently had been used to bore the hole for the wire to pass through for the fresh sawdust was still in its whorls who does this belong to princess debor it's bart's said deborah staring he was using it along with other tools to make some deal boxes for master who was going away i expect it was found in the cellar in the tool-box for bart always brought it in tidy-like after he had done his work in the yard whether being fine of course ended deborah sniffing where is this bart in bed like a decent man if he's to be my husband which he is said miss junk tartly i told one of them idle bobby's to go and fetch him from bloomsbury

one has gone said another policeman bart tausie isn't he mr bartholomew tozzy if you please said the servant granly i only hope he'll be here soon to protect me you're quite safe said prince dryly whereat there was a smile on the faces of his underlings for deborah in her disordered dress and with swollen flushed excited face was not comely but what about this brooch you say is the cause of it all deborah dropped with an air of fatigue if you kill me i can't talk of it now she protested the brooch belonged to mr paul and where is he in the charing cross hospital if you want to know and as he's engaged to my pretty you needn't think he'd done it so there i'm accusing no one said the inspector grimly but we must get to the bottom of this horrible crime ah well you may call it that well deborah with that serping on his poor mouth and him wriggling like an eel to get free but ark there's my pretty a-calling and miss junk dashed headlong from the shop shouting the comfort sylvia as she went prince looked at the dead man and at the opal serpent which he held in his hand this at one end of the matter and that at the other what is the connecting link between this brooch and that corpse end of chapter seven chapter eight of the opal serpent by fergus hume this librivox recording is in the public domain the verdict of the jury as may be guessed the murder of aran norman caused a tremendous sensation.

One day the name was unknown, the next, and it was in the mouths of the millions, the strange circumstances of the crime, the mystery which shrouded it, the abominable cruelty of the serpent brooch, having been used to seal the man's lips, while he was being slowly strangled, deepened the interest immensely.

Here at last was a murder worthy of Wilkie Collins or Gabriel's handling, such a crime as one expected to read of in a novel, but never could hope to hear of in real life. Fact had for once poached on the domain of fiction. But notwithstanding all the inquiries which were made, and all the vigilance of the police, and all the newspaper articles, and all the theories sent by people who knew nothing whatever of the matter, nothing tangible was discovered likely to lead to a discovery of the assassin or assassins. it was conjecture that two people at least had been concerned in the committal of the crime as weak physically though he was the deceased would surely not have allowed himself to be bound by one person however strong that person might be

in such a case there would certainly have been a scuffle and as the daughter of the murdered man heard his cry for help which was what sylvia did here she would certainly have heard the noise of a rough and tumble struggle such as norman would have made when fighting for his life but that single muffled cry was all that had been heard and then probably the brooch had been pinned on the mouth to seal it for ever later the man had been slowly strangled and in the sight of his horrified daughter poor sylvia received a severe shock after witnessing that awful sight and was ill for some days the faithful deborah attended to her like a slave and would allow no one save the doctor to enter the sick-room bart tausie who had been summoned to gwynstreet from his bed remained in the empty shop and attended to any domestic duties which miss junk required to be performed she made him cook the viands for sylvia and for herself and as he had been trained by her before to act as an emergency cook he did credit to her tuition also bart ran messages saw that the house was well locked and bolted at night and slept on a hastily improvised bed under the counter even deborah's strong nerves were shaken by the horrors she had witnessed and she insisted that bart should remain to protect her and she had been to protect her and she had been to her and sylvia bart was not over-strong but he was wiry and moreover had the courage of a cock sparrow so while he was guarding the house deborah had no fears and could attend altogether to her sick mistress one of the first people to call on miss norman was a dry wizened monkey of a man who announced himself as jabez posh the solicitor of the deceased he had so he said executed aaron

legal business for years and knew all his secrets. Yet, when questioned by the police, he could throw no light on the murder. But he knew of something strange, connected with the matter, and this he related to the detective who was now in charge of the case. This officer was a chatty, agreeable, pleasant-faced man, with brown eyes, brown hair, and brown skin. Also, to match his face, no doubt, he wore brown clothes, brown boots, a brown hat, and a brown tie. In fact, in body, face, and hands, and dress, he was all brown, and this prevalent color produced rather a strange effect. He must have been dyed, said Miss Junk, when she set eyes on him, but brown is better nor black. Miss Sylvia, though black you'll have to wear for your poor

paw, as has gone to a better land, let us hope, though there's no knowing. The brown man, who answered to the name of heard, or, has he, genius. described himself, Billy heard, saw Mr. Posh the lawyer, after he had examined everyone he could lay hold of in the hopes of learning something likely to elucidate the mystery. What do you know of this matter, sir? asked a brown man pleasantly. Posh screwed up his face in a manner worthy of his monkey looks. He would have been an absolute image of one with a few nuts in his cheek, and as he talked in a chattering sort of way, very fast and a trifle incoherent, the resemblance was complete.

I know nothing why my esteemed client should meet with such a death, he said, but I may mention that on the evening of his death he called round to see me and deposited in my charge four bags of jewels. At least he said there were jewels, for the bags are sealed, and of course I never opened them. Can I see those bags, asked Hurt amiably? the legal monkey hopped into the next room and beckoned her to follow. Shortly, the two were looking into the interior of a safe

wherein reposed four bags of coarse white canvas sealed and tied with stout cords. The odd thing is, said Mr. Posh, chewing his words and looking so absurdly like a monkey that the detective felt inclined to call of Jacko, that on the morning of the murder, and before I heard anything about it, a stranger came with a note from my esteemed client asking that the bags should be handed over what sort of a man well said posh filling with his sharp chin

what you might call a seafaring man a sailor maybe would be the best term he was stout and red-faced but with drink rather than with weather i should think and he rolled on his bow-legs in a somewhat nautical way What name did he give, asked Hurd, writing this description rapidly in his notebook. None. I asked him who he was, and he told me, with many oaths, I regret to say, to mind my own business. He insisted on having the bags to take back to Mr. Norman. But I doubted him. Oh, yes, added the lawyer shrewdly. I doubted him. Mr. Norman always did his own business, and never in my experience of him employed a deputy. I replied to the unknown nautical man, a sailor, as you might say. He certainly smelt of rum, which, as we know, is a nautical drink. Well, Mr. Hurd, I replied, that I would take the bags round to Mr. Norman myself and at once.

This office is in Chancery Lane, as you see, and not far from Gwynne Street, so I started with the bags. And with a nautical gentleman? No, he said he would remain behind until I return. so as it received my apology when I had seen my esteemed client and become convinced of the nautical gentleman's rectitude. When I reached Gwynne Street, I found that Mr. Norman was dead, and at once took the bags back to replace them in this safe, where you now behold them. And this sailor, asked her, Iin'n Mr. Posh keenly. The lawyer sucked in his cheeks and put his feet on the rungs of his chair.

Oh, my clerk tells me he left within five minutes of my departure, saying he could not wait. Have you seen him since? I have not seen him since, but I am glad that I save the property of my client. Was Norman rich? Very well off indeed, but he did not make his money out of his book-selling business, in fact, said Posh, putting the tips of his fingers delicately together. He was rather a good judge of jewels. A pawnbroker, interrupted her dryly.

I have heard all about that from Bart Tawsey, his shopman. Skip it and go on. I can only go on, so far, has to say, that Miss Norman will probably inherit a fortune of five thousand a year, beside the jewels contained in those bags. That is, said Mr. Posh wisely, if the jewels be not redeemed by those who pawned them. Is there a will, asked her? heard, rising to take his leave. Posh screwed up his eyes and inflated his cheeks and wriggled so much that the detective

expected an acrobatic performance, and was disappointed when it did not come off. I really can't be sure on that point, he said softly. I have not yet examined the papers contained in the safe of my deceased and esteemed client. He would never allow me to make his will. Leases, yes. He had some house property, more than a house property. mortgages, yes, investments, yes. He entrusted me with all his business, save the important one of making a will. But a great many other people act in the same strange way, though you

might not think so, Mr. Hurd, they would never make a lease, or let a house, or buy property, without consulting their legal advisor. Yet in the case of wills, most important documents, many prefer to draw them up themselves. Consequently, there is much much of money to draw them up themselves. consequently there is much litigation over wrongly drawn documents of that nature. All the better for you lawyers, well, I'm off to look for your nautical gentleman. Do you think he is guilty? I can't say, said Hurd smiling, and I never speak unless I am quite sure of the truth. It will be hard to come at in this case, said the lawyer.

Billy the detective smiled pleasantly and shrugged his brown shoulders, so hard that it may never be discovered, he said. You know many mysteries are never solved. I suspect this Gwynstreet crime will be one of them. Hurd had learned a great deal about the Opel Broche from Sylvia and Deborah, and what they told him resulted in his visiting the Charing Cross Hospital to see Paul Beacott. The young man was much worried. His arm was getting better, and the doctors assured him

he would be able to leave the hospital in a few days. But he had received a letter from his mother, whom he had informed of his accident. She bewailed his danger and wrote, with many tears, as Paul saw from the blotted state of the letter, that her domestic tyrant would not allow her to come to London to see her wounded darling. This in itself was annoying enough,

but Paul was still more irritated and excited by the report of Aaron's terrible day. which he saw in a newspaper. So much had this moved him that he was thrown into a high state of fever, and the doctors refused to allow him to read the papers. Luckily, Paul, for his own sake, had somewhat calmed down when Hurd arrived, so the detective was permitted to see him. He sat by the bedside and told the patient who he was.

Becott looked at him sharply and then recognized him. You are the workman, he said astonished. "'Yes, Mr. Beacott, I am. I hear that you have not taken my warning regarding your friend, Mr. Gretton Hay. Ah, then you know his name all the time. Of course I did. I merely spoke to you to set you on your guard against him. He'll do you no good.' "'But he was at school with me,' said Beacott, angrily. "'That doesn't make him any of the better companion,' replied Hurd. "'See here, Mr. Beacott. We can talk of this matter, another.

time. At the present, I am allowed to converse with you only for a short time. I wish to ask you about the opal serpent. Paul sat up, although Hurd tried to keep him down. What do you know of that? Why do you come to me? I know very little and want to know more. As I told you, my name is Billy Hurd, and, as I did not tell you, I am the detective whom the treasury has placed in charge of this case. Norman's murder? Yes, have you read the papers? A few, but not enough. The doctors took them from me, and...

Gently, Mr. Beacott, let us talk as little as possible. Where did you get that brooch? Why do you want to know? You don't suspect me, I hope. Heard laughed. No, you have been in this ward all the time. But as the brooch was used cruelly to seal the dead man's mouth, it seems to me, and to inspect her,

prince that the whole secret of the murder lies in tracing it to its original possessor now tell me all about it said billy and spread out his notebook i will if you tell me about miss norman i'm engaged to marry her and i hear she is ill oh she is much better said herd pausing pencil in hand don't distress yourself that young lady is all right and when you marry her you'll marry it arras as i learn from the lawyer who does the billy business of the deceased. I don't care about her being an heiress. Will you take a message to her for me? Certainly, what is it? Hurd spoke quite sympathetically, for even though he was a detective, he was a human being with a kindly heart.

Tell her how sorry I am, and that I'll come and see her as soon as I can leave this confounded hospital. Thanks for your kindness, Mr. Hurd. Now, what do you wish to know? Oh, yes, about the opal source. serpent, which, as you say, and as I think, seems to be at the bottom of all the trouble. Listen, and Paul detailed all he knew, taking the story up to the time of his accident. Heard listened attentively.

Oh, said he, with a world of meaning, so Mr. Glaxen-Hay was with you. Do you suppose he pushed you into the road on purpose? No, said Paul, staring. I'm sure he didn't. What had he to gain by acting in such a way? way. Money, you may be sure, said, heard, that gentleman never does anything without the hope of a substantial reward.

Hush, we'll talk of this when you're better, Mr. Beacott. You say the brooch was lost? Yes, it must have slipped out of my pocket when I fell under the wheels of that machine. I believe there were a number of loafers and ragged creatures about, so it is just possible, I may hear. It has been picked up. I've sent an advertisement. to the papers. Hurd shook his head. You won't hear, he said. How can you expect to,

when you know the brooch was used to seal the dead man's lips? I forgot that, said Paul faintly, my memory. It's not so good as it was, Hurd Rose. I'll go, as I see you are exhausted. Goodbye. Wait, you'll keep me advised on how the case goes. Certainly, if the doctors will allow me to, good-bye, and Hurd went away, very well satisfied with the information he had obtained. The clue, as he thought it was, led him to Wargrove, where he obtained useful information from Mr. Beacott, who gave it with a very bad grace, and offered remarks about his sons being mixed up in the case which made Hurd, who had taken a fancy to the young fellow protests. From Wargrove, Hurd went to Stowley in Buckinghamshire, and interviewed the pawnbroker,

whose assistant had wrongfully sold the brooch to be caught many years before. There he learned a fact which sent him back to Mr. Jebess Posh in London. I say, sir, said Hurd, when again, in the lawyer's private room, that nautical gentleman of yours pawned that opal serpent twenty years ago, more or less. never said the monkey screwing up his face and chewing yes indeed the pawnbroker is an old man but he remembers the customer quite well and his description allowing for the time that has elapsed answers to the man who tried to get the jewels from you mr posh chewed meditatively and then inflated his cheeks poo he said twenty years is a long time a man then and a man now would be quite different. Some people never change, said Hurd quietly.

You have not changed much, I suspect. No, crackled the lawyer, rather amused. I grew old young, and have never altered by looks. Well, this nautical gentleman may be the same. He pawned the article under the name of David Green, a feigned one, I suspect. Then you think he is guilty? I have to prove that the brooch came into his possession again

before I can do that, said Hurd grimly, and, as the brooch was lost in the street by Mr. Beacott, I don't see what I can do. However, it is strange that a man connected with the pawning of the brooch so many years ago should suddenly start up again when the brooch is used in connection with a terrible crime. It is strange. I congratulate you on having this case, Mr. Hurd. It is an interesting one to look into. And a mighty difficult one, says, had Hurd, rather depressed, I really don't see my way. I have got together all the evidence I can, but I fear the verdict at the inquest will be willful murder against some person or persons unknown. Hurd, who was not blind to his own limitations, like some detectives, proved to be a true

profit. The inquest was attended by a crowd of people who might have well stayed away for all they learned concerning the identity of the assassin. It was proved by the evidence of Sylvia and Deborah how the murder had taken place, but it was impossible to show who had strangled the man. It was presumed that the assassin or assassins had escaped when Deborah went upstairs to shout murder out of the first floor window. By that time the policeman on the Wind Street beat was not in sight, and it would have been easy for those concerned in the crime

if more than one, to escape by the cellar door, through the passage and up the street to mingle with the people in the strand, which, even at that late hour, would not be deserted. Or else the assassin or assassins might have got into Drury Lane and had proceeded toward Oxford Street. But in whatever direction they went, none of the numerous policemen around the neighborhood on that fatal night had spotted any suspicious persons. It was generally a assumed from the peculiar circumstances of the crime that more than one person was inculpated and these had come out of the night and had committed the cruel deed and then had vanished into the night leaving no trace behind the appearance of the fellow who mr posh called the nautical gentleman certainly was strange and led many people to believe that robbery was the motive for the commission of the crime this man who was powerful and could easily have overpowered a little creature like norman came to rob said the wiseacres finding that the jewels were gone and probably from a memorandum finding that they were in the possession of the lawyer he attempted the next morning to get them and so on

but against this was placed by other people the cruel circumstances of the crime no mere robbery would justify the brooch being used to pin the dead man's lips together then again the man being strangled before his daughter's eyes was a refinement of cruelty which removed the case from a mere desire on the part of the murderer to get money finally one man as the police thought could not have carried out the abominable details alone so after questions had been asked and evidence obtained and details shifted and theories raised and pros and cons discussed the jury was obliged to bring in the verdict predicted by Mr. Hurd. Willful murder against some person or persons unknown, said the jury, and everyone agreed that this was the only conclusion that could be arrived at. Of course the papers took up the matter and asked what the police were doing to permit so brutal a murder to take place in a crowded neighborhood and in the metropolis of the world.

What was the civilization coming to and, etc., etc.? all the same the public was satisfied that the police and jury had done their duty so the inquest was held the verdict was given and then the remains of aaron norman were committed to the grave and from the journals every one knew that the daughter left behind was a great heiress a million of money said the press and lied as usual end of chapter eight chapter nine of the opal serpent by fergus hume this librivox recording is in the public domain castles in the air so aaron norman the second-hand bookseller of gwynne street was dead and buried and in the public domain castles in the air so aaron norman the second-hand bookseller of gwynstreet was dead and buried and in the and, it may be said, forgotten. Sylvia and those connected with her remembered the old man and his unhappy end, but the public managed to forget

all about the matters in a wonderfully short space of time. Other events took place which interested the readers of the newspapers more, and few recalled the strange Wind Street crime. Many people, when they did think, said that the assassins would never be discovered. but in this they were wrong. If money could hunt down the person or persons

who had so cruelly murdered Aaron Norman, his daughter and heiress was determined that money could not be better spent. And Billy heard, knowing all about the case and taking a profound interest in it, by reason of the mystery which envirmed it, was selected to follow up what clues there were. But while London was still seething

with the tragedy and strangeness of the crime, Mr. Jebess Posh came to the heterogeneously furnished sitting-room in Gwen Street to read the will, for there was a will after all. Deborah and Bart, who had witnessed it at the request of their master, told Mr. Posh of its existence, and he found it in one of the three safes in the cellar. It proved to be a short curt document, such as no man in his senses would think of making when disposing of five thousand a year. Aaron was a clever businessman, and Posh was professionally disgusted that he had left behind him such a loose testament. Why didn't he come to me and have it properly drawn up, he asked, as he stood in the cellar

before the open safe with a scrap of paper in his hand. Deborah standing near, with her hands on her honches, laughed heartily. i think master believed he spent enough money with you sir lord bless you mr posh so long as the will's tight and fair what do it matter don't tell me there's anything wrong and that my pretty won't come into her fortune oh the will's right enough said posh screwing up his cheeks let us go up to the sitting-room is miss sylvia there that she are sir and a getting back her pretty colour with mr paul posh looked suspiciously at the handmaiden who is he nobody to be spoke of in that lump of dirt way retorted deborah he's a gentleman who's going to marry my pretty oh the one who had the accident i met him but forgot his name miss junk nodded vigorously and a mercy it was that he wasn't smashed the splinters with spoiled looks and half his limbs off she said why bless you mr posh could i let my son be married a man as wasn't all there art of gold though he may have but the blessing of providence kept him together shouted deborah in a burst of gratitude and there he sits upstairs with arms to put around my lily queen for the drying of her dear eyes mr posh was not at all pleased at this news and rubbed his nose hard if a proper will had only been made he said aggressively a proper guardian might have been appointed and this young lady would not have been permitted to throw herself away

begging your pardon mr pox said deborah in an offended tone but this marriage is of my making to say nothing of heaven which brought him and my pretty together mr beecott ain't got money but his looks is taken and his heart is all that an angel can want my pretty's choice added the maiden shaking an admonitory finger and my pretty's happiness so don't you go a spoiling of it i have nothing to say save to regret that a young lady in possession of five thousand a year should make a hasty contract like this said mr posh dryly hopping up the cellar stairs it wasn't hasty cried deborah following and talking all the time six months have these dears billed and cooed lovely and if my queen wants to buy a husband why not just you go up and read that will proper without casting cold water on my beauty's warm art or trouble will come of your talking i'm mild said deborah chasing the little lawyer up the stairs leading to the first floor mildest flat beer if not roused but if you make me red my hand flies like a windmill and- mr jebba's posh heard no more he stopped his legal ears and fled into the sitting-room where he found the lovers seated on a sofa near the window sylvia Sylvia was in Paul's embrace, and her head was on his shoulder. Becott had his arm in a sling and looked pale, but his eyes were as bright as ever,

and his face shone with happiness. Sylvia also looked happy. To know that she was rich that Paul was to be her husband, filled the cup of her desires to the brim. Moreover, she was beginning to recover from the shock of her father's death, and was feverishly anxious to escape from wind street and from the house where the tragedy had taken place well said mr posh drawing a long breath and sucking in his cheeks you lose no time young gentleman paul laughed but did not change his position sylvia indeed blushed and raised her head but paul still held her with his uninjured arm defying mr posh in all the world i am gathering rosebuds while i may mr posh said he misquoting herrick's charming line you have plucked a very pretty one grinned the monkey but may i request the rosebuds attention

sylvia extricated herself from her lover's arms with a heightened color and nodded gravely seeing it was business she had to descend from heaven to earth but she secretly hoped that this dull little lawyer who was a bachelor and had never loved in his dry little life would soon go away and leave her alone with prince charming deborah guessed these thoughts with the instinct of fidelity and swooped down on her young mistress It's the will, Poppet, she said loudly, but if it do make your dear head ache, Mr. Beacott will listen. I wish Mr. Beacott to listen in any case, said Posh dryly, if he is to marry my young and esteemed client. We are engaged with the consent of my poor father, said Sylvia, taking Paul's hand. I shall marry no one but Paul. And Paul will marry an angel, said that young man, with a tender squeeze, although he can't can't keep her in bread and butter.

Oh, I think there will be plenty of bread and butter, said the lawyer. Miss Norman, we have found the will. If, added Mr. Pasta stainfully, this, he held out the document with a look of contempt, can be called a will. It's all right, isn't it? asked Sylvia, anxiously. I mean the form and the writing and the paper, young lady. It is a good will in law, and duly signed and witnessed. me and Bart having written our names lovely put in Deborah posh frowned her into silence the willie said looking at the writing consists of a few lines it leaves all the property of the tester to my daughter

your daughter screamed deborah why you ain't married i'm reading from the will snapped posh coloring and read again i leave all the real and personal property of which i may die possessed of to my daughter daughter. Sylvia Norman cried Deborah, hugging her darling. There you are wrong, corrected Posh, folding up the so-called Will. The name of Sylvia isn't mentioned. Does that make any difference? asked Paul quietly. No, Miss Norman, is an only daughter, I believe. And an only child, said Deborah. So that's all right, my pretty. You'll have them jewels and five thousand a year. Oh, Paul, what a lot of money, cried Sylvie. sylvia appalled whatever will we do with it all why marry and be happy of course said paul rejoicing not so much on account of the money although that was acceptable but because this delightful girl was all his very very own the question is said mr posh who had been reflecting and now reproduced a will from his pocket as to the name what name asked sylvia and deborah echoed the question your name

Pasha addressed the girl direct. Your father's real name was Crill, Lemuel Crill. Sylvia looked amazed. Deborah uttered her usual ejaculation. Lower, but Paul's expression did not change. He considered that this was all of a piece with the murder and the mystery of the Opel brooch. Undoubtedly, Mr. Lemuel Cru, alias, Aaron Norman,

must have had good reason to change his name and to exhibit terror at the sight of the brooch, and the reason he dreaded, whatever it might be, had been the cause of his mysterious and tragic death. But Paul said nothing of these thoughts, and there was silence for a few minutes. Lower, said Deborah again, and I never knew. Do he put that name to that, mister, she asked, pointing to the will?

Yes, it is sign Lemuel Cruel, said Posh. I wonder you didn't notice it at the moment. why bless you mr posh there weren't no moment said deborah her hands on her hips as usual master made that their will only a short time before he was killed posh nodded i note the date he said all in order quite master went on deborah looking at paul never got over that their fainting fit you gave him with that serpent brooch and he writes out that will and tells bart and me to put our names to it but he covered up his own name with a bit of red blotting paper i never thought but that he hadn't put erin norman which was his name it was not his name said posh his real name as i have told you and for years i have known the truth do you know why he changed his name asked beacott quickly no sir i don't and if i did i don't know if it would be legal etiquette to reveal the reason to a stranger he's not a stranger cried sylvia annoyed well then to a young gentleman who i have only seen twice why do you ask mr beecott i was wondering if the change of name had anything to do with the murder said paul hesitatingly how could it said posh testily when the man never expected to be murdered beg your pardon mr posh but you're all out said deborah master did expect to have a stroke

cut, or his head knocked off, or his inside removed. Deborah cried Paul hastily, you're making Sylvia nervous. Don't you worry, pretty, said the maiden. It's only silly old Debbie's way. But, master, your paw as was, my pretty, went to church and prayed awful against folk, as he never named,

to say nothing of looking over his left shoulder blade and sleeping in the cellar, bolted and barred, and always with his eye on the ground sad-like old bailey's and police courts was in his mind say what you like i say nothing rejoined posh putting on his hat and hopping to the door mr lemuel cruel did not honor me with his confidence so far he came here over twenty years ago and began business i was then younger than i am and he gave me his business because my charges were moderate i know all about him as aaron norman added posh with emphasis but as lemuel krill i know nothing but the name can say nothing nor do i want to young people ended the lawyer impressively let sleeping dogs lie what do you mean asked sylvia looking startled nothing he means nothing interposed paul hastily for the girl had undergone quite enough torments what about the change of name ah yes said the lawyer inquiringly will you call yourself krill or norman miss sylvia seeing her names to be changed to be caught in a jiffy cried deborah it don't matter and it shan't matter you leave krill and it's old bailey's if old bailey's there are in it alone my lovely and be miss norman till the parson and the clerk and the bells and the ringers and the lawyer and the prophets turn you into the loveliest bride as ever was and deborah nodded vigorously

i wish father had mentioned my name in his will said sylvia in a low voice and then i should know what to call myself paul addressed the lawyer i know little about the legal aspect of this will this amateur will said posh slightingly but i should like to know if there will be any difficulty in proving it i don't think so i have not gone through all the safes below and may come across the marriage certificate of miss krill's i beg pardon miss norman's mother and father then there's the birth certificate we must prove that miss sylvia is the daughter of my father's daughter's daughter's daughter's the birth certificate we must prove that miss sylvia is the daughter of my late esteemed client. What's that? shouted Deborah. Why, I knowed her mother, as died. She's the daughter right enough, and— There's no need to shout, chattered, posh, angrily.

I know that as well as you do. I must act, however, as reason dictates. I'll prove the will and see that it's all right. Then, dreading Deborah's tongue, he hastily added, Good day, and left the room. but he was not to escape so easily. Deborah plunged after him and made scathing remarks about legal matters all the way down to the door. Paul and Sylvia left alone, looked and smiled, and fell into one another's arms. The will had been red and the money left to the girl. Thereby, the future was all right,

so they thought that Pasha's visit demanded no further attention. He'll do all that is to to be done said paul i don't see the use of keeping a dog and having to bark yourself am i really a rich woman paul said sylvia gladly really and truly as i am a pauper i think perhaps said becott sadly that you might make a better match then sylvia put her pretty hand over his moustache i won't hear it paul she cried vehemently with a stamp of her foot how dare you as if you weren't all i have to love in the world now poor father is-is dead and she began to weep i did not love him as i ought to have done paul my own he would not let you love him very much no said sylvia drying her eyes on paul's handkerchief which he produced. I don't know why. Sometimes he was nice, and sometimes he wasn't. I never could understand him, and you know, Paul, we didn't treat him very nicely. No, admitted Becott frankly, but he forgave us. Oh, yes, poor dear, he did. He was quite nice when he said we could marry, and he would allow us money. You saw him?

I did. He came to the hospital. Did he tell you when he returned, Sylvia? never saw him, she wept. He never came upstairs, but went out and I went to bed. He left the door leading to the stairs open, too, on that night, a thing he never did before. And then the key of the shop. Bart used to hang it on a nail in the cellar, and father would put it into his pocket after supper. Deborah couldn't find it in his clothes, and when she went afterwards to the cellar, it was on the nail. On that night, Paul, father did everything different to what he usually did. He seems to have had some mental trouble, said Paul, gently, and I believe it was connected with that brooch. When he spoke to me at the hospital, he said, he would let me marry you,

and would allow us an income if I gave him that serpent brooch to take to America. But why did he want that brooch? asked Sylvia, puzzled. Ah, said Beacott, with great significance, if we could find out his reason, we would learn who killed him and why he would. was killed. Sylvia wept afresh on this reference to the tragedy, which was yet fresh in her memory, but his weeping would not bring back the dead, and Paul was much distressed at the sight of her tears. She dried her eyes for a hundredth time within the last few days and sat again on the sofa

by her lover. There they built castles in the air. I tell you what, Sylvia, said Paul, reflectively, after this will-businesses settled, and a few weeks have elapsed, we can marry. Oh, Paul, not for a year. Think of poor father's memory. I do think of it, my darling, and I believe I am saying what your father himself would have said. The circumstances of the case are strange, as you are left with a lot of money and without a protector. You know I love you for yourself, and would take you without a penny.

But unless we marry soon, and you give me a husband's right, you will be packed. by people wanting to marry you paul thought of graxton hay when he made this last remark but i wouldn't listen to them cried sylvia with a flush and debby would soon send them away i love you dearest dear then marry me next month said paul promptly you can't stop here in this dull house and it will be awkward for you to go about with deborah faithful though she is no darling let us marry and then we shall go abroad for a year or a year to until all this sad business is forgotten. Then I hope by that time to become reconciled with my father, and we can visit Wargrove. Sylvia reflected she saw that Paul was right, as her position was really very difficult. She knew of no lady who would chaperone her, and she had no relative to act as such. Certainly Deborah could be a chaperone, but she was not a lady, and Posh could be a guardian,

but he was not a relative. Paul as her husband would be able to protect her and to look after the property, which Sylvia did not think she could do herself. These thoughts made her consent to an early marriage, and I really don't think father would have minded. I'm quite sure we were acting as he would wish, said Beacot decisively.

I'm so thankful, Sylvia, sweetest, that I met you and loved you before you became an heiress. No one can say that I may be able to, marry you for anything save your own sweet self, and I am doubly glad that I am to marry you and save you from all the disagreeable things which might have occurred had you not been engaged to me. I know, Paul, I am so young and inexperienced. You are an angel, said he, embracing her, but there's one thing we must do, and his voice

became graver. We must see posh and offer a reward for the discovery of the person who killed. killed your father. But Mr. Posh said, let sleeping dogs lie, objected Sylvia. I know he did, but out of natural affection, little has your poor father loved you, we must stir up this particular dog. I suggest that we offer a reward of 500 pounds. To whom, asked Sylvia, thoroughly agreeing. To anyone who can find the murderer, I think myself that herd will be the man to gain the money, apart from any reward he has to act on behalf of the treasury and besides he is keen to discover the mystery you leave the matter to me sylvia we will offer a reward for the discovery of the murderer of

erin norman said sylvia quickly no replied her lover gravely of lemuel krill end of chapter nine chapter ten of the opal serpent by fergus hume this Libravox recording is in the public domain. A bolt from the blue. Paul's reason for advertising the name of Lemuel Krill was a very natural one. He believed that in the past of the dead man was to be found his reason for changing his name and living in Gwynne Street, and in that past before he became a second-hand bookseller and secret pawnbroker might be found the motive for the crime. therefore if a reward was offered for the discovery of the murderer of lemoral krill alias aaron norman something might come to light relative to the man's early life

once that was known the clue might be obtained then the truth would surely be discovered he explained this to heard i think you're right mr becott said the detective in his genial way looking as brown has a coffee bean i have made inquiries from the two servants and from the neighbors and from what customers i could find aaron norman certainly lived a very quiet and respectable life here but lemuel krill may have lived a very different one and the mere fact that he changed his name shows that he had something to conceal when we learn that something we may arrive at the motive for the murderer and given that the assassin may be caught The assassin, echoed Paul, then you think there was only one? Hurd shrugged his shoulders. Who knows, he said. I speak generally. From the strange circumstances of the crime,

I am inclined to think that there is more than one person concerned in this matter. However, the best thing to be done is to have handbills printed, offering the five hundred pounds reward. People will do a lot to earn so much money, and someone may come forward with details about Mr. Crill, which will solve the mystery of Norman's death. I hope you will gain that reward yourself, heard. The detective nodded.

I hope so, too. I have lately married the sweetest little wife in the world, and I want to keep her in the way she has been accustomed to be kept. She married beneath her, as I'm only a thief-catcher, and no very famous one either. But if you solve this mystery, it will do you a lot of good. That it will, agreed Billy, heartily, and it will mean advancement and extra screw. Besides the reward, if I can get it, you may be very sure, Mr. Beacott, but I'll do my best.

Oh, by the way, he added, have you heard that Mr. Posh as being asked for many of those jewels? No, who's asking for them? Not that nautical man? Hurd shook his head. He's not such a fool, said he, no. But the people who pledged the jewels are getting them back, redeeming them, in fact. Pasha's doing all the business thoroughly well, and will keep what jewels remain for the time allowed by the law,

so that all those who wish to redeem them can do so. If not, they can be sold, and that will mean more money to Miss Norman. By the way, I presume she intends to remain Miss Norman. Norman. Until I make her, Mrs. Beacott, said Paul, smiling. Well, replied Hurd very heartily, I trust you will both be happy. I think Miss Norman will get a good husband and you, and you will gain the sweetest wife in the world, bar one. Everyone thinks his own crow the whitest, laughed Beacott. But now that business has ended, and you know what you are to do, will you tell me plainly why you warn me against Grafton Hay?

"'Hm,' said the detective, looking at Paul, "'with keen eyes. "'What do you know about him, sir?' "'Becott detailed his early friendship "'with Hay at Torrington, "'and then relayed the beating in Oxford Street. "'And so far as I have seen,' added Paul justly, "'there is nothing about the man

"'to make me think he's a bad lot. "'It is natural you should think well of him, "'as you know no wrong, Mr. Beacott. "'All the same, cracks in hay, is a man on the market. You made use of that expression before. What does it mean? Ask Mr. Hay.

He can explain best. I did ask him, and he said it meant a man who was on the marriage market. Heard laughed. Very ingenuous and untrue. Untrue? Certainly, Mr. Hay knows better than that.

If that were all, he wouldn't think a working man would warn anyone against him. He guessed you were not a working man said Paul, and intimated they had had a liaison with a married woman, and that the husband had set you to watch. Wrong again. My interest in Mr. Hay doesn't spring from divorce proceedings.

He paints himself blacker than he is in that respect, Mr. Beacott. My gentleman is too selfish to love, and too cautious to commit himself to a divorce case where there would be a chance of damages. No, he's simply a man on the market, and what that is, no one knows better than he does. Well, I'm ignorant. You shall be enlightened, sir, and I hope what I tell you will lead you to drop this gentleman's acquaintance, especially now, that you will be a rich man through your promised wife. Miss Norman's money is her own, said Paul, with a quick flush.

I don't propose to live on what she inherits. Of course not, because you are an honorable man, but I'll lay anything you like that Mr. Hay won't have your scruples. As soon as he finds your wife is rich, he'll try and get money from her through you. He'll fail then, rejoined Becock calmly. I am not up to your London ways, perhaps,

but I am not quite such a fool. Perhaps you will enlighten me, as you say. Heard nodded, and caught a smooth chin with his finger and thumb. A man on the market, he explains slowly, is a social highwayman. I'm still in the dark herd. Well, to be more particular, Hay is one of those well-dressed blackards who live on mugs. He has no money. I beg your pardon. He told me himself that his uncle had left him a thousand a year. Pooh, he might as well have doubled the sum and increased the value of the

lie. He hasn't a penny. What he did have, he got through pretty quickly in order to buy his experience. Now, that he is hard up, he practices on others what was practiced on himself. Hay is well-bred, good-looking, well-dressed, and plausible. He has well-furnished rooms, and keeps a valet. He goes into rather shady society, as decent people. Having found them out, won't have anything to do with him, but he is a card sharper and a fraudulent company promoter. He'll borrow money from any Juggins who's asked enough to lend it to him. He haunts Piccadilly, Bond Street, and the Burlington Arcade, and is always smart and bland and fascinating. If he sees a likely victim, he makes his acquaintance in a hundred ways, and then proceeds to fleece him.

In a word, Mr. Beacott, you may put it, that Mr. Hedgott. pay is Captain Hawk, and those he swindles are pigeons. Paul was quite startled by this revelation, and it was painful to hear it of an old-school friend. He does not look like a man of that sort, he remonstrated. It is not his business to look like a man of that sort, rejoined the detective. He masks his batteries. All the same, he is one of the most dangerous men on the market at the present in town.

A young peer, whom he plucked two years ago, lost everything to him, and got into trouble over some woman. It was a nasty case, and Hay was mixed up in it. The relatives of the victim, I needn't give you his title, asked me to put things right. I got the young nobleman away, and he is now traveling to acquire the sense he so sadly needed. I have given Mr. Hay a warning once or twice, and he knows that he has been watched by us. When he slips, as he is bound to do sooner or later, then he'll have to deal with me.

Oh, I know he hunts for clients in fashionable hotels, smart restaurants, theaters, and such-like places. He is clever, and although he has fleeced several lambs, since he plucked the pigeon I saved, he has, as yet, been too clever to be caught. When I saw him with you, Mr. Beacott, I thought it just as well to put you on your guard. I fear he'll get little out of me, said Paul. I'm too poor. You are rich now through your promised wife, and, hey, we'll find it out.

I repeat that Miss Norman's money has nothing to do with me, and I may mention that as soon as the case is in your hands, Mr. Hurd, which is now, interpolated the detective, I intend to marry Miss Norman, and then we will travel for a time. that's very wise of you give hay a wide berth of course if you meet him you needn't tell him what i've told you but when he tries to come captain hawk over you be on your guard i shall and thanks for the warning

so the two parted herd went away to have the bills printed and paul returned to gwynstreet to arrange with sylvia about their early marriage deborah was in seventh heaven of delight that her young miss mistress would soon be in a safe haven and enjoy the protection of an honorable man knowing that she would soon be relieved from care she told bart taunzey that they would be married at the same time as a young couple and that the laundry would be started as soon as mr and mrs becock left for the continent bart of course agreed he always did agree with deborah and so everything was nicely arranged meanwhile posh worked to prove the will pay the death duties and to place sylvia in full possession of her property he found in one of the safes the certificate of the girl's birth and also the marriage certificate of aaron norman in the name of lemuel the man evidently had his doubts of the marriage being a legal one if contracted under his alias he had married lillian garner who was described as a spinster but who she was and where she came from and what her position in life might be could not be discovered krill was married in a quiet city church and posh having searched found everything in order mrs krill or norman as she was known lived only a year or two after her marriage and then died leaving sylvia to the care of her husband there were several nurses in succession until deborah grew old enough to attend alone on her young mistress then norman dismissed the nurse and never had been sylvia's slave and errand servant until the tragic hour of his death

so everything being in order there was no difficulty in placing sylvia in possession of her property posh was engaged in this congenial work for several weeks and during that time all went smoothly paul paid daily visits to the gwynne street house which was to be vacated as soon as he made sylvia his wife deborah searched for her laundry and obtained the premises she wanted at a moderate rental sylvia basked in the sunshine of her future husband's love and heard hunted for the assassin of the late mr norman without success the handbills with his portrait and real name and a description of the circumstances of his death were scattered broadcast over the country from land's end to john agroats but hitherto no one had applied for the reward the name of krill seemed to be a rare one and the dead man apparently had no relatives for no one took the slightest interest in the bills beyond envying the lucky person who had gained the large reward offered for the conviction of the murderer then one day deborah while cleaning out the cellar found the piece of paper which had slipped down behind one of the safes these had not been removed for many years and the paper apparently apparently, placed carelessly on top, had accidentally dropped behind. Deborah, always thinking something might reveal the past to Sylvia, and afford a clue to the assassin, brought the paper

to her mistress. It proved to be a few lines of a letter, commenced but never finished, but the few lines were of deep interest. My dear daughter these ran. When I die, you will find that I married your mother under the name of Lemuel Krill. that is my real name but i wish you to continue to call yourself norman for necessary reasons if the name krill gets into the papers there will be great trouble keep it from the public i can tell you where to find the reasons for this as i have written here the letter ended abruptly without any signature norman apparently was writing it when interrupted and had placed it unfinished on the top of the safe whence it had fallen behind to be discovered by deborah and now it had strangely come to light but too late for the request to be carried out oh paul said sylvia in dismay when they read this together and the bills are already published with the real name of my father it is unfortunate admitted paul frowning but after all-and-all your father may have been troubled unnecessarily, for over the fortnight the bills have been out,

and no one seems to take an interest in the matter. But I think we ought to call the bills in, said Sylvia uneasily. That's not such an easy matter. There is scattered broadcast, and it will be next to impossible to collect them. Besides, the mischief is done. Everyone knows by this time that Aaron Norman is Lemuel Krill. so the trouble, whatever it may be, must come. What can it be? asked the girl anxiously.

Paul shook his head. Heaven only knows, said he, with a heavy heart. There is certainly something in your father's past life, which he did not wish known, and which led to his death. But since the blow has fallen and he is gone, I do not see how the matter can affect you, my darling. I'll show this to Posh and see what he says. i expect he knows more about your father's past than he will admit but if there should be trouble paul you will have me to take it off your shoulders he replied kissing her

my dearest do not look so pale whatever may happen you will always have me to stand by you and deborah also she is worth a regiment in her fidelity so sylvia was comforted and paul putting the unfinished letter in his pocket went round to see posh in his chancery lane office he was stopped in the outer room by a saucy urchin with an impudent face in a bold manner mr posh is engaged said this official so you'll have to wait mr beecott paul looked down at the brat who was curly-headed and as sharp as a needle how do you know my name he asked i never saw you before i'm the new office-boy said the urchin wishing to be respectable and leave street hawking which ain't what it was my name's tray and i've seen you before mister i helped pull you out from them wheels when that haughty gent as gove gave me a bob for doin it oh so you help said paul smiling well here's another shilling i'm much obliged to you master tray but from what deborah junk says You were a gutter snipe. How did you get this post? I talked myself into it, said Trey, importantly. Newspapers ain't good enough, and you get pains in wet weather.

So I turns a good boy, he grinned evilly, and goes to a ragged kid's school to do the holy. The superintendent says, I'm a promising case, and he asks Mr. Posh, as is also Sunday inclined, to help me. the office boy ere went and i come tray tossed the shilling and spat on it for luck as he slipped it into the pocket of quite a respectable pair of trousers so i'm on my way to be in lord mayor turn again whittington as they say's in the pantomime well said becott amused i hope you will prove yourself worthy tray winked oh i'm straight as long as it's worth my while i takes my salary home to graham and don't play pitch and toss any more he winked again and looked as wicked a brat as ever walked paul had his doubts as to what the outcome of mr paush's charity would be and being amused was about to pursue the conversation when the inner door opened and posh looking troubled appeared when he saw paul he started and came forward i was just about the sent tray for you said he looking anxious something unpleasant has come to light in connection with krill

becotte started and brought out the scrap of paper look at that he said and you will see that the man warned sylvia posh glanced hurriedly over the paper most unfortunate he said folding it up and puffing out his cheeks but it is too late the name of krill was in those printed bills a portrait also and now well what asked paul seeing the lawyer hesitated come inside and you'll see said posh and conducted beecotte into the inner room here sat two ladies the elder was a woman of over fifty but who looked younger owing to her fresh complexion and plump figure she had a firm face with hard blue eyes and a rather full-lipped mouth her hair was white and there was a great deal of it under a widow's cap it was dressed a la marie antoinette and she looked very handsome in a full-blown flowery way she had firm white hands rather large and as she removed her black gloves these paul saw were covered with cheap rings altogether a respectable well-dressed widow but evidently not a lady nor was the girl beside her who revealed sufficient similarity of features to announce herself the daughter of the widow there was the same fresh complexion full red lips and hard blue eyes but the hair was of a golden color and fashionably dressed the young woman she likewise was not a lady was also in black this said posh indicating the elder woman who smiled is mrs lemuel krill the wife of the man who called himself aaron norman went on the widow and this she indicated her daughter is his sister lamuel krill the wife of the man who called himself aaron norman went on the widow and this she indicated her daughter is

is heiress end of chapter ten chapter eleven of the opal serpent by fergus hume this librivox recording is in the public domain a cuckoo in the nest paul looked from the fresh-coloured woman who spoke so smoothly and so firmly to the apish lawyer hunched in his chair with a sphinx-like look on his wrinkled face for the moment so taken back was he by this astounding announcement that he could not speak. The younger woman stared at him with her hard blue eyes, and a smile played round her full lips. The mother also looked at him in an engaging way, as though she rather admired his youthful comeliness in spite of his well-brushed, shabby apparel.

"'I don't know what you mean,' said Beacot at length, Mr. Posh. The lawyer aroused himself to make, a concise statement of the case so far as i understand he said in his nervous irritable way these ladies claim to be the wife and daughter of lemuel krill who we knew as aaron norman and i think by his real name also said the elder woman in her deep smooth contralto voice and with the display of an admirable set of teeth the bills advertising the reward and stating the fact of the murder bore my late husband's real name norman was not your husband madam cried paul indignantly i agree with you sir my mule krill was my husband i saw in the newspaper which penetrated even into the quiet little hance village i live in that aaron norman had been murdered i never thought he was the man who'd left me more than twenty years ago with an only child to bring up but the bills offering the reward assured me that norman and krill are one and the same man therefore she drew herself up and looked piercingly at the young man

i have come to see after the property i understand for the papers that my daughter is an heiress to millions not millions said posh hastily the newspapers have exaggerated the amount five thousand a year madam and it is left to silver who is syl who is sylia asked mrs krill in the words of shakespeare's song she is the daughter of mr norman said paul quickly and is engaged to marry me mrs krill's eyes travelled over a shabby suit from head to foot and then back again from foot to head she glanced sideways at her companion and the girl laughed in a hard contemptuous manner i feel you will be disappointed in losing a rich wife sir said the elder woman sweetly i have not lost the money yet replied paul hotly not that i care for the money of course not put in miss krill ironically with another look at his dress but i do care for sylvia norman with whom i have nothing to do she is your husband's daughter but not mine this is my daughter maud the legal daughter of lemuel and myself, she added meaningly. Good heavens, madam, cried Beecot, his face turning white. What do you mean?

Mrs. Krill raised her thick white eyebrows and shrugged her plump shoulders and made a graceful motion with her white be-ringed hand. Is there any need for me to explain, she said calmly. I think there's every need, cried Beacott sharply. I shall not allow Miss Norman to lose her fortune or—or lose it yourself, sir. I quite understand. Nevertheless, I am assured that the law of the

land will protect, through me, my daughter's rights. She leaves it in my hands. Yes, said the girl, in a voice as full and rich and soft as her smooth-faced mother. I leave it in her hands. Paul sat down and concealed his face with a groan. He was thinking not so much of the loss of the money, although that was a consideration, as of the shame Sylvia would feel at her position. Then a gleam of hope darted into his mind. Mr. Norman was married to Sylvia's mother under his own name. You can't prove the marriage void. I have no wish to.

When did this marriage take place? Becott looked at the lawyer who replied, Twenty-two years ago, and he gave the date. Mrs. Krill fished in a black Morocco. bag she carried and brought out a shabby blue envelope. I thought this might be needed, she said, passing it to posh. You'll find there my marriage certificate. I became the wife of Lemuel Cruel three years ago, and, as I am still living, I fear,

the later marriage, she smiled blandly and shrugged her shoulders again. Poor girl, she said, with covert insolence. "'Silvia does not need your pity,' cried Beacott, stung by the insinuation. "'Indeed, sir,' said Mrs. Crill, sadly, and with a look of a treacherous cat. I fear she needs the pity of all right-thinking people. Many would speak harshly of her, seeing what she is, but my troubles have taught me charity. I repeat that I am sorry for the girl.' "'And again I say there is no need,' rejoined Paul,

throwing back his head, and you forget, madam, there is a will. Mrs. Crill's fresh color turned to a dull white, and her hard eyes shot fire. A will, she said slowly, I shall dispute the will if it is not in my favor. I am the widow of this man, and I claim full justice. Besides, she went on, wetting her full lips with her tongue, I understood from the newspapers that the money was left to miss. mr krill's daughter certainly to sylvia krill norman sir she has no right to any other name but i really do not see why i should explain myself to you sir if you choose to give this girl your name you will be doing a good act at present the poor creature is nobody she let the last word drop from her lips slowly so as to give paul its full sting

beacott said nothing he could not dispute what she said if this woman could prove the marriage of thirty years ago then krill or norman as he called himself had committed bigamy and in the hard eyes of the law sylvia was nobody's child and that the marriage could be proved paul saw well enough from the looks of the lawyer who was studying their certificate which he had drawn from the shabby blue envelope then the will the money is left to sylvia he said with obstinacy i shall defend her rights of course said mrs krill significantly i understand that a wife with five thousand i would marry sylvia without a penny indeed sir that is the only way in which you can marry her if you like i shall allow her twenty pounds for a trousseau paul rose and flung back his head again you have not got the money yet madam he said defiantly not at all disturbed mrs krill smiled her eternal smile i am here to get it there is a will you say she added turning to pauch and i understand from this gentleman she indicated be caught slightly that the money is left to mr krill's daughter does he name maud or sylvia posh slapped down the certificate irritably he names no one the will is a hasty document badly worded and simply leaves all the testator died possessed of to my daughter which of course means maud here i congratulate you dear she said turning to the girl who looked happy and flushed your father is made up to us both for his cruelty and desertion

seeing that there was nothing to be said paul went to the door but there his common sense left him and he made a valedictory speech i know that mr krill left the money to sylvia oh no said the widow to his daughter as i understand the wording of the will runs in that case this nameless girl has nothing posh cried beakot turning despairingly to the little solicitor the old man shook his head and sucked in his cheeks i am sorry mr beacott said he in a pitying tone but as the will stands the money must certainly go to the child born in wedlock i have the certificate here he laid his monkey paw on it but of course i shall make inquiries by all means said mrs krill graciously my daughter and myself have lived for many years in christchurch hans we keep the inn there not the principal inn but a small public-house on the outskirts of the village it will be a change for us both to come into five thousand a year after such penury of course mr posh you will act for my daughter and myself mr posh acts for sylvia cried paul still lingering at the door the lawyer was on the horns of a dilemma if what mrs krill says is true i can't dispute the facts he said irritably and i am unwilling to give up the business prove to me ma'am that you are the lawful widow of my late client and that this is my late esteemed client's lawful door to-lawful door to-and that this is my late esteemed client's lawful door to-lawful door to-lawful daughter and i will act for you mrs krill's ample bosom rose and fell has her eyes glittered triumphantly she cast a victorious glance at beacot but that young man was looking at the solicitor

rats leave the sinking ship he said bitterly you will not prosper posh everyone prospers who protects the widow and the orphan said posh in a pious tone and so disgusted paul that he closed the door with a bang and went out tray was playing chuck farthing at the door and keeping mr graxton hay from coming in you there beckon said this gentleman coldly i wish you would tell this brat to let me enter brat yourself you tough cried tray pocketing his money ain't i at doing as my master tells me he's engaged with two pretty women he leered in a way which made paul long the box's ear So I don't spoil sport. You got tired of them, Mr. Beacott. How do you know, Mr. Beacott's name asked Hay calmly. Lord, sir, didn't you and me pull him from under the wheels? Oh, said Grafton, suddenly enlightened.

Were you the boy? Since you have washed your face I didn't recognize you. Well, Beacott, you looked disturbed. I have a reason to, and since you and this boy pulled me from under the wheels of the motor, said Paul, glancing from one to the other, I should like to know what became of the brooch. I'm sure I don't know, said Grafton quietly. We talked of this before. I gave it as my opinion, if you remember, that it was picked up in the street by the late Aaron Norman and was used to seal his mouth. At least, that is the only way in which I can conjecture you lost it.

You never saw it drop from my pocket? it. I should have picked it up and returned it, if I had seen it, said, hey, fixing his eyeglass. Perhaps this boy saw it? Saw what? asked Trey, was listening with both his large ears. An old blue velvet case with a brooch inside, said Beacott, quickly. Trey shook his head vigorously. If I had seen it, I'd have nicked it, he said impudently. Catch me giving it back to you, Mr. Beacott? There's a cove I knows, a face. that is, and he'd give me lots for it. Lord, said Tray, with deep disappointment, to think as that dropped out of your pocket and I never grabbed it. What cruel luck!

Oh, and he spat. Paul looked hard at the boy, who met his gaze innocently enough. Apparently, he spoke in all seriousness and really lamented the lost chance of gaining a piece of jewelry to make money out of. moreover had he stolen a brooch he would hardly have talked so openly of the fence he alluded to hay the young man could not suspect as there was positively no reason why he should steal so comparatively trifling an article sharper as he was hay flew at higher games and certainly would not waste his time or risk his liberty in stealing what would bring him only a few shillings Why don't you ask the detectives to search for the brooch, said Taye, smiling? It is in the detective's possession, said Paul sullenly, but we want to know how it came to pin Norman's lips together.

I can't imagine, unless he picked it up. If lost at all, it must have been lost in the street the old man lived in, and you told me he wanted the brooch badly. But he wasn't on the spot. What, Crontr, Tray, suddenly? the one-eyed cove? Oh yes, but wasn't he? Why, when they were getting the amulins, and the peelers was crowding round, he'd come dancing like a billi-o out of his shop. Bicott thought this was strange, as he understood from Deborah and Bart and Sylvia

that Norman had known nothing of the accident at the time. Then again Norman himself had not mentioned it when he paid that visit to the hospital within a few hours of his death i don't think that's true he said the tray sharply oh cusset said the young gentleman what do i care the old cove come up and dance in the mud and then he gets into his shop again true is true say what you like mister ho bcott turned his back on the boy after all he was not worth arguing with and a liar by instinct still in this case he might have spoken the truth norman might have appeared on the scene of the accident and have picked up the brooch paul thought he would tell her this and meantime held out his hand to hay in spite of the bad character he had heard of that young man he saw no reason why he should not be civil to him until he found him out meantime he was on his guard one moment said graxton grasping the outstretched hand i have something to say to you and he walked a little way with paul i am going in to see posh on business which means a little money to me i was the unfortunate cause of your accident beacot so i think you might accept twenty pounds or so from me no thank you all the same said paul gratefully yet with a certain amount of caution i can struggle along after all it was an accident

a very unfortunate one said hay more heartily than usual i shall never forgive myself is your arm all right oh much better i'll be quite cured in a week or so and meantime how do you live i managed to get along replied paul reservedly he did not wish to reveal the nakedness of the land to such a doubtful acquaintance you are a hard-hearted sort of chap cried hay coldly but rather annoyed at his friendly advances being flouted well then if you won't accept alone let me help you in another way come and dine at my rooms i have a young publisher coming also and if you meet him he will be able to do something for you he's under obligations to me and you may be certain i'll use all my influence in your favor come now next tuesday that's a week off you can't have engagement at such a long notice paul smiled i never do have any engagements he said with his boyish smile thank you i'll look in if i can but i am in trouble graxton very great trouble You shouldn't be, said Hay, smiling. I know well enough why you will not accept my loan. The papers say, Sylvia, your dulcinea, has inherited a million. You are to marry her. Unless, said Hay, suddenly, the excess of wealth has turned her head and she has thrown you over.

Is she that sort of girl? No, said Paul quietly. She is as true to me as I am to her, but you are mistaken as to the million. it is five thousand a year and she may not even inherit that what do you mean i am not at liberty to say but with regard to your dinner added paul hastily changing the conversation i'll come if i can get my dress suit out of pawn then i count on you said hey blandly though you will not let me help you obtain the suit however this publisher will do a lot for you by jove what a good-looking girl He said this under his breath. Miss Maud Krill appeared on the doorstep where the two young men stood and stumbled against Gragston in passing.

His hat was off at once and he apologized profusely. Miss Krill, who seemed a young woman a few words, as Paul thought, from her silence in the office, smiled and bowed, but passed on without saying a thank you. Mrs. Krill followed, escorted by the treacherous Posh, who was all smiles and hand-washings and bows. Apparently, he was quite convinced that the widow's story was true, and Paul felt sick at the news he would have to tell Sylvia. Posh saw the young man, and meeting his indignant eyes,

darted back into his office like a rabbit into its burrow. The widow sailed out in her calm, serene way, without a look at either Paul or his companion. Yet the young man had an instinct that she saw them both. "'That's the mother I expect,' said Hay, putting his glass firmly into his eye. "'A handsome pair, gad Paul, that young woman, huh?' "'Perhaps you'd like to marry her,' said Paul bitterly. "'Hey, drew himself up stiffly. "'I don't marry stray young women I see on the street, however attractive,' he said in his

cold voice. I don't know either of these ladies. Posh will introduce you, if you make it worth as well. Why the deuce should I, retorted Hay, staring. Well, said Beacott, impulsively, telling the whole of the misfortune that had befallen him. That is the wife, and that is the daughter of Aaron Norman, alias Krill. The daughter inherits five thousand a year, so marry her and be happy. But you're Dulcinea. asked graxton dropping his eye-glass in amazement she has me in poverty said paul turning away nor could the quiet call of hay make him stop but at the end of the street he looked back and saw graxton entering the office of the lawyer if hay was the man heard said he was paul guessed that he would inquire about the heiress and marry her too if her banking account was large and safe end of chapter eleven chapter twelve of the opal serpent by fergus hume this librovoc's recording is in the public domain

the new life for obvious reasons beecott did not return the gwen street it was difficult to swallow this bitter pill which providence had administered in place of an assured future with sylvia he found himself confronted with his former poverty and with no chance of marrying the girl and with the obligation of telling her that she had no right to any name paul was by no means a coward and his first impulse was to go at once and informed sylvia of her reverse of fortune but it was already late and he thought it would be only kind to withhold the bad news to the morrow and thus avoid giving the disinherited girl a tearful and wakeful night therefore after walking the embankment till late paul went to his garret to the young man's credit it must be said that he cared very little for the loss of the money although he grieved on sylvia's account had he been able to earn a small income he would have married the girl and given her the protection of his name without the smallest hesitation but he was yet unknown to fame he was at variance with his father and he could scarcely bring Sylvia to share his bitter poverty, which might grow still more bitter in that cold and cheerless Garrett. Then there was another thing to consider.

Paul had written to his father explaining the circumstances of his engagement to Sylvia and asking for the paternal blessing. To gain this, he mentioned that his promised wife had 5,000 a year. Bullion tyrant, as Beacott Sr. was, he loved money, and although well off was always on the alert to have more brought into the family with the bribe of a wealthy wife paul had little doubt but what the breach would be healed and sylvia welcomed as the sweetest and most desirable daughter-in-law in the world then paul fancied the girl would be able to subdue with her gentle ways the stubborn heart of his father and would also be able to make mrs be cot happy indeed he had received a letter from his mother congratulate him on his wealthy match for the good lady wished to see paul independent of the domestic tyrant also mrs becott had made many inquiries about sylvia's goodness and beauty and hoped that he had chosen wisely and hinted that no girl living was worthy of her son after the fashion of mothers

paul had replied to this letter setting forth his own unworthiness and sylvia's perfections and mrs becott had accepted the good news with joy but the letter written to becott senior was yet unanswered and paul began to think that not even the chance of having a rich daughter-in-law would prevail against the obstinacy of the old gentleman but when he reached his garret after that lonely and tormenting walk on the embankment he found a letter from his father and opened it with some trepidation it proved to contain joyful news mr becott thanked heaven that paul was not such a fool as he had been of yore and hinted that this sudden access of sense which had led him to engage himself to a wealthy girl had come from his father and not from his mother he becott signor was aware that paul had acted badly and had not remembered what was due to the best of fathers but since he was prepared to settle down with a rich wife becott senior nobly forgave the past and paul's many delinquencies mentioned in detail and would be glad to welcome his daughter-in-law then beacott becoming the tyrant again insisted that the marriage should take place in wargrove and that the fact of sylvia's father being murdered should be suppressed in fact the old gentleman left nothing to the young couple but arranged everything in his own selfish way even to choosing in wargrove the house they would inhabit the house he mentioned was one of his own which could not be let on account of some trivial tale of a ghost and mr beckot would give this as a marriage gift to paul thus getting rid of an unprofitable property

and playing the part of a generous father at one and the same time in spite of his bucolic ways and pig-headed obstinacy and narrow views becote senior possessed a certain amount of cunning which paul read in every line of the selfish letter before him however the main point was that the old gentleman seemed ready to overlook the past and to receive sylvia paul wanted to return to his home not so much on account of his father as because he wished to smooth the remaining years of his mother, and he knew well that Sylvia, with her gentle ways, and heart of gold, would make Mrs. Beecot happy. So long as Paul loved the girl he wished to marry, the mother was happy. But Becott, Sr., had an eye to the money, and thus was ready to be bribed into forgiveness and decent behavior.

Now all this was altered. From the tone of the letter Paul knew that his father would never consent to his marrying a girl, not only without a name, but lacking the fortune which alone rendered her desirable in his eyes. Still, the truth would have to be told, and if Becott Senior refused to approve of the marriage, the young couple would have to do without his sanction. The position, thought Paul, would only make him work the harder, so that within a reasonable time he might be able to provide a home for Sylvia. so the young man facing the situation bravely wrote to his father and explained how the fortune had passed from sylvia but declared with all the romance of youth that he intended to marry the girl all the same

if becott senior said paul would permit the marriage and allow to couple of small income until the husband could earn enough to keep the pot boiling the writer would be grateful if not paul declared firmly that he would work like a slave to make a home for his darling but nothing in the world would make him give up sylvia this was the letter to his father and then paul wrote one to his mother detailing the circumstances and imploring her to stand by him although in his own sinking heart he felt that mrs beecott was but a frail reed on which to lean he finished these letters and posted them before midnight then he went to bed and dreamed that the bad news was all moonshine and that sylvia and he were a happy rich married pair but the cold gray searching light of dawn brought the actual state of things again to his mind and so worried him that he could hardly eat any breakfast he spent the morning in writing a short tale for which he had been promised a couple of sovereigns and took it to the office of the weekly paper which had accepted it on his way to wind street paul's heart was heavy thinking of what he had to tell but he did not intend to let sylvia see that he was despondent on turning down the street he raised his head assumed a smile and walked with a confident step into the shop as he entered he heard a heavy woman plunged down the stairs and found his arm grasped by deborah very red-faced and very furious the moment he crossed the threshold bart could be heard knocking boxes together in the cellar as he was getting deborah's belongings ready for removal to jubilee town where the cottage and the drying ground for the laundry had already been secured through posh

but paul had no time to ask what was going on a glance at the handmaid's tearful face revealed that she knew the worst in which case sylvia must also have heard the news yes cried deborah seeing the sudden whiteness of paul's cheeks and shaking him so much as the hurt his injured arm she knows she do oh lord bless us that things should come to this and there she said in a crying out her beautiful eyes for you mr beecott thinking of you throwing her over and if you do shouted deborah with another shake you'd had better been smashed the jelly than face me in my present state seeing you from the window i made bold to come down and ask your intending's for if them do mean no marriage and the breaking of my pretty's heart never selchie set eyes again on a double-faced jonah and here deborah gasped for breath and again shook paul deborah he said in a quiet voice releasing himself i love sylvia for herself and not for her money deborah threw her brawny arms in the air and her apron over her red head i noted oh yes indeed she sobbed in muffled tones says i i says mr paul's a gentleman whatever's frantic pa may be and marry you my own lovely he will though not able to afford the marriage fees the same as will come out of Debbie's pocket, though the laundry go by the board. Heaven knows what we'll live on, all the same.

Poor Workhouse Idgets, as me and Bart are, not being able to make you and Miss Sylvia happy. Miss Sylvia Krill and Norman both, ended Deborah with emphasis, whatever that smooth cat with a grin, and the claws may say, dratter for a slimy tabby, yeah. I see you know all, said Paul. as soon as he could slip in a word. No, all, almost yelled Deborah,

dragging down the apron and revealing flashing eyes. And it's a mystery I ain't an old Bailey this very day for scratching that monkey of a posh. Oh, if I'd known what he was, never should he've got me the laundry, though the same may have to go, worse luck? Oh, yes. He come, and she'd come with her kitten

as it's almost as big a cat as she is. Mrs. Crill, bless her. Oh, yes, Mrs. Crill, the sneaking, smiling Jezebel. Did she see Sylvia? asked Beacott sharply. Yes, she did, admitted Deborah, me letting her in, not knowing her scratchings. And the monkey and the kitten come, too, a spying out the land, as you may say.

When I heard the news, I howled, Mr. Paul, but my pretty she turned white like one of them plastered statues as boys sell cheap in the streets and says she she says oh paul if you'll forgive me mentioning your name sir without purlightness bless her my darling did she think of me said becott tenderly ah when do she not think of you sir art of gold though none in her pocket by means of that old bailey woman as is a good match for my old bailey master oh he was a bad one and how miss sylvia ever come to have such a pa beats me but i thank heaven the cat ain't my pretty's ma though she do have a daughter of her own the painted stuck-up parcel of bad bargains paul nodded calling names won't do any good deborah he said sadly we must do the best we can there ain't no chance of the law getting that woman to the gallows i suppose the woman is your late masters lawful wife. Posh seems to think so, and has gone over to the enemy. Here Deborah clenched their mighty fist and gasped. Sylvia's mother was married later, and as the former wife is alive, Sylvia is. No, shouted Deborah, flinging out her hand, don't say it. Sylvia is poor,

ended Paul calmly. What did you think I was about to say, Deborah? What that cat said, insulting my pretty. But I shoved her out of the the door, telling her what she were. She gave me and Bart, and my own sunbeam noticed to quit, gasped Deborah, almost weeping, and quit we will this very day. Bart spit a packing at this morning. Here I'm knocking, and I wish she was knocking at Mrs. Krill's head. That I do, the flaunting hussy as she is, drat her. I'll go up and see Sylvia. No, Deborah, don't you come for a few minutes when you do come we'll arrange what is to be done deborah nodded acquiescence take my lovely flower in your arms sir she said following him to the foot of the stairs and tell her as your heart is true which true i knowed it would be be caught was soon in the sitting-room and found sylvia on the sofa her face buried in her hands she looked up when she recognized the beloved footsteps and sprang to her feet

the next moment she was sobbing her heart out on paul's faithful breast and he was comforting her with all the endearing names he could think of my own my sweet my dearest darling whispered paul smoothing the pretty brown hair don't weep you have lost much but you have me dear she wept do you think it is true i'm afraid it is sylvia however i know a young lawyer who is a friend of mine and i'll speak to him but paul though my mother may not have been married to my father she was sylvia but mrs krill was married to him earlier your father committed bigamy and you poor child have to pay the penalty well even if the marriage is wrong the money was left to us to you dear said becott leading her to the sofa that is the money was left in that loosely worded will to my daughter we all thought it was you but now this legal wife has come on the scene the money must go to her daughter oh sylvia cried paul straining her to his breast how foolish your father was not to say the money was left to my daughter sylvia then everything would have been right but the absence of the name is fatal the law will assume that the testator meant his true daughter am i not as true daughter she asked her lips quivering you are my own darling sylvia murmured paul kissing her hair don't let us talk of the matter i'll speak to my lawyer friend but i fear from the attitude of posh that mrs Crill will make good her claim.

Whether a chance of keeping you in possession of the money, Posh would never have left you so easily. I'm so sorry about the money on your account, Paul. My own, he said cheerily, money is a good thing, and I wish we could have kept the five thousand a year. But I have you and you have me, and although we cannot marry for a long time, yet... Not marry, Paul? Why not?

"'Dearest, I am poor. I cannot drag you down the poverty.' Sylvia looked at him wide-eyed. I am poor already. She looked round the room. Nothing near is mine. I have only a few clothes. Mr. Posh said that Mrs. Krill would take everything. "'Let me marry you, darling,' she whispered coaxingly, and we can live in your garret. I will cook and mend and be your own little wife.' Becock groaned. Don't tempt me sylvia he said putting her away i dare not marry you why i have hardly enough to pay the fees no dear you must go with debby to her laundry and i'll work night and day to make enough for us to live on then we'll marry and but your father paul he won't do anything he consented to our engagement but solely i believe because he thought you are rich now when he knows you are poor and i wrote to tell him last night he will forbid the match paul she clung to him in sick terror my sweetest he caught her in his arms do you think a dozen fathers would make me give you up

no my love of loves my soul my heart of hearts come good come ill we will be together you can stay with debby at jubilee town until i make enough to welcome you to a home however humble dear be hopeful and trust in the god who brought us together he is watching over us and knowing that why need we fear don't cry darling heart i'm not crying for crying sobbed sylvia hiding her face on his breast and speaking incoherently but i'm so happy in spite of the bad news asked paul laughing gently yes yes to think that you should still want to marry me i am poor i have no name and dearest you will soon have my name but mrs krill said i don't want to hear what she said cried paul impetuously she's a bad woman i can see badness written all over her smiling face we won't think of her when you leave here you won't see her again my own dear little sweetheart whispered paul tenderly when you leave this unhappy house let the bad past go you and i will begin a new life come don't cry my pet, here's Debbie. Sylvia looked up and threw herself into the faithful servant's

arms. Oh, Debbie, he loves me still, he's going to marry me whenever he can. Deborah laughed and wiped Sylvia's tears away with her coarse apron tenderly. You silly flower, she cried, caressingly. You foolish queen of honeybees. Of course, he have you in his heart.

You be bride and I'll be bridesmaid, though not a pretty one and all will be honey and sunshine and gates of pearl my beauty debby i'm-i'm so happy deborah placed her young mistress in paul's arms then let em make you happier pretty lily of the valley lord as if anything bad would ever come to you too while silly old debby have a leg to stand on and arms to wash though the laundry oh lord and she rubbed her nose till it grew scarlet what of it mr beecott i do ask have you enough money to pay a year's rent yes me and bart have saved one hundred between us rent and furniture and taxes can come out of it sure and my washins what i call washin said deborah emphatically no lost buttons and torn sheets and ragged collars i'll wash again the queen herself though i says as it shouldn't give me a tub and you'll see you'll see you'll see you'll see you'll see you're in the queen herself though i says as it shouldn't give me a tub and you'll see you'll see you'll see you'll see you'll see you're if the money don't come in. Well, then, Deborah, as I am too poor to marry Sylvia now, I want her to stop with you till I can make a home for her. And where else should she stop?

But with her own silly, foolish Debbie, I'd like to know. My flower, you come and be queen of the laundry. I'll keep the accounts, Debbie, said Sylvia, now, all smiling. You'll keep nothing but your color and your dear heart up, retorted Debbie, sniffing, me and Bart will do all. And this blessed day we'll go to Jubilee Town with our belongings.

And you, Mr. Beacott, I'll come and see you settled, Deborah, and then I returned earn an income for Sylvia. I won't let you keep her long. She'll stop, as long as she have the wills, shouted Debbie, hugging Sylvia, as to that

krill cat. She could take possession as soon as she likes, and Deborah added Paul, significantly. For all that has happened, I don't intend to drop the search for your late master's murderer. It's that krillcat has done it, said Debbie, though I ain't got no reason for saying of such a thing. End of Chapter 12. Chapter 13 of the Opal Serpent by Fergus Hume. This Libra Box recording is in the public domain. The detective's views. As Paul expected, The next letter from his father contained a revocation of all that had pleased him in the former one.

Becott, Sr. wrote many pages of abuse. He always did babble like a complaining woman when anchored. He declined to sanction the marriage, and ordered his son, at once, underlined, to give up all thought of making Sylvia Norman his wife. It would have been hard enough, wrote Beacott, to have received her as a daughter-in-law, even with money. seeing that she had no position and was the daughter of a murdered tradesman. But seeing also that she was a pauper, and worse, a girl without a cognomen, he forbade Paul to be so on her the worthy name of Beacot, so nobly worn by himself. There was much more to that same effect, which Paul did not read,

and the letter ended, grandiloquently, in a command that Paul was to repair, at once to the manor, and there grovel at the feet of his injured father. To this despotic epistle the young man answered in a few lines. He said that he intended the Mary Sylvia, and that nothing would make him give her up, and that he would not meet his father again until the father remembered that his son was an Englishman and not a slave. Paul signed his letter without the usual your affectionate son, for he felt that he had small love for this imperious old man who declined to control his passions.

So he now knew the worst. The breach between himself and his father was wider than ever, and he had only his youth and his brains to depend upon, in making a living for himself and a home for Sylvia. Strange to say, Paul's spirits rose, and he braced himself bravely to do battle with fortune for his beloved. sylvia under the charge of deborah was escorted by bart tausie who duly left quin street bag and baggage and she was now established in rose cottage jubilee town the house was a small one and there was not a single rose in the garden around it indeed as the cottage had been newly erected there was not even a garden and it stood amidst a bare acre with a large drying ground at the back

but the cottage on the outskirts of the new suburb was to all intents and purposes in the country and sylvia's weary eyes were so gladdened by green fields and glorious trees that she forgot the nakedness of her immediate surroundings she was assigned the best room in this small abode and one of the first things she did was to write a letter to paul asking him to repair to rose cottage to witness the marriage of deborah and bart the handmaiden thought this was necessary so that she could make full use of her intended husband if he wasn't here always said the bride-elect he'd be gladding about idling i know him and me getting a business together won't be easy unless i've got him at hand as you may say to take round the bills let alone that he ought to sleep in the house in case burglars get in and sleep in the house without the blessings of matrimony he can't my pretty so that's all about it deborah as an american would say was a hustler and having made up her mind she did not let grass grow under her feet she called on the vicar of the parish and explained herself at great length but suppressed the fact that she had formerly lived in gwynne street she did not want the shadow of the murder to cast a gloom over her new home and therefore said nothing about the matter oh the vicar good easy soul knew was that deborah had been a servant in a respectable family whereabouts not mentioned that the father and mother had died and that she brought the only daughter of the house to live with her and be treated like a lady then deborah demanded that the bands should be put up and arranged that bart should take up his abode in the parish for the necessary time this was done and for three sundays deborah had the pleasure of hearing the bands announced

which foretold that bart tausie and herself would soon be man and wife then the marriage took place the future mrs tausie had no relatives but bart produced a snuffy old grandmother from some london slum who drank gin during the wedding feast much to the scandal of the bride paul acted as best man to bart and sylvia in her plain black dress was bridesmaid mrs purr the grandmother objected to the presence of black at a wedding saying that was unlucky and told of many fearful incidents which had afterwards occurred to those who tolerate such a funeral garb but deborah swept away all opposition what she shouted in her usual style not have my own sweet pretty to ask a blessing on my marriage and she not able to get out of her blacks i'm astonished at you mrs purr and you an old woman has ought to know better i doubt if you're bart's granny i've married into an idiot race don't talk to me miss perr if you please live clean and work hard and there's no trouble with them husbands and has the love honor and obey you and she sniffed them words you have to say muttered mrs purr oh said deborah scornfully i'd like to see me say em to such scrub as bart but say them she did at the altar being compelled to do so by the vicar but when the ceremony was over the newly-made mrs tonsie took bart by the arm and shook him he was small and lean and of a nervous nature so he quivered like a jelly in his wife's tremendous grip deborah was really ignorant of her own strength

you harked to me bart she said while the best man and bridesmaid walked on ahead talking lovingly i said them words which you ought to have said because you ain't got no memory to speak of but they ain't my beliefs but yours or i'll know the reason why just you say them now swear without billingsgate as you'll always love honor and obey your loving wife bart still being shaken gasped out the words and then gave his arm to the lady who was to rule his life deborah kissed him in a loud hearty way and led him in triumph to the cottage here mrs purr had prepared a simple meal and the health of the happy pair was proposed by paul mrs purr toasted them in gin and wept as she did so a dismal tearful old woman was mrs purr and she was about to open her mouth in order to explain what she thought would come of the marriage when mrs tausie stopped her none of them groans cried deborah with vigor i won't have my wedding made funials hold your tongue mrs purr and you bart just swear to love honor and obey my pretty as you would your own lawful wife and the ceremonies is off. Bart performed the request, and then Paul, laughing at the oddity of it all, took his leave. On walking to the gate, he was overtaken by Mrs. Purr, who winked mysteriously.

Whatever you do, sir, said the lean old creature, with many contortions of her withered face, don't have nothing to do with Trey. Trey echoed Paul in surprise. Mr. Posh's office boy. Him and no other, I know his grandmother, has been up for drunk two hundred times, and is proud of it. Stretchers is as common to her, sir,

as kissing is to a handsome young gent like you, and the boy takes after her, a deep young cuss, whispered Granny purr significantly. But why should I beware of him, S. B. Cot puzzled. A nods a wink to a blind one, croaked Mrs. Purr, condensing the proverb and turning away. Just leave that tray to his own wickedness. They'll bring him to the gallows some day. But I want to know.

Ah, well then, you won't, sir. I says what I says, and I says no more, nor I ought to say. So good night, sir, and Mrs. Purr toddled up the newly gravel path and entered the cottage, leaving an odor of gin behind her. Becott had half a mind the follow, so strange was the hint she had given him. Apparently she knew something which connected him with Trey, and Paul wondered, for the fiftieth time,

if the boy had picked up the opal brooch. However, he decided to leave the matter alone for the present. Mrs. Purr, whom Deborah had engaged to iron, was always available, and Paul decided, that should anything point to tray's being implicated in the finding of the opal serpent that he would hand him over to herd who would be better able to deal with such a keen young imp of the gutter thus making up his mind paul dismissed all thought of mrs purr's mysterious utterance and walked briskly to the nearest bus stand where he took a blue vehicle to the bloomsbury district all the way to his garret he dreamed of sylvia and poor though was a home he left her in he was thankful that she was there in the safe shelter of mrs deborah tausie's arms it was five o'clock when paul arrived at the door of the stairs leading to his attic and here he was touched on the shoulder by no less a person than mr billy hurd

only when he spoke did paul recognize him by his voice for the gentleman who stood before him was not the brown individual he knew as the detective mr hurd was an evening dress with the neatest of patent boots and the tightest of white gloves he wore a brilliantly polished silk hat and twirled a gold-headed cane also he had donned the smart blue cloth overcoat with a velvet collar and cuffs but though his voice was the voice of heard his face was that of quite a different person his hair was dark and wore rather long his mustache black and large and brushed out a la and he affected an eyeglass as he movable as that of haze altogether a wonderfully changed individual heard said paul starting with surprise it's my voice told you but now he spoke a tone higher in a shrill sort of way and with a foreign accent would you me discover monomis he inquired with a genuine parisian shrug no why are you masquerading you masquerading you masquerading no why are you masquerading as a frenchman heard not heard in this skin mr beecotte comte de la tour of ultra's service and he presented a thin glazed card with a coronet engraved on it well count said becott laughing what can i do for you come up to your room said the pseudo count mounting the stairs there's something to be talked over between us not bad news i hope ah my poor friend said the detective in his usual genial voice you have had enough bad news i'm aware to lose a lovely wife and a fine fortune at once ah what a pity

i have lost the money certainly said becott lighting his lamp but the wife will be mine as soon as i can save sufficient to give her a better home than this monsieur le comte de la tour sat down and gracefully flung open his overcoat so as to expose a spotless shirt front what he asked lifting his darkened eyebrows so you mean to marry that girl of course said paul angrily do you think i'm a brute but the money what does that matter i love her not the money and the name her birth i'll give her my own name and then we'll see who'll dare to say a word against my wife hurd stretched out his hand and grasping that of beecott's shook it warmly upon my word you are a man and that's almost better than being a gentleman he said heartily i've heard everything from mr posh and i honor you mr becott i honor you paul stared you must have been brought up in a queer way heard her-he i've heard everything from mr poche and i honor you paul stared you must have been brought up in a queer way heard he said dryly, to express to surprise, because a man acts as a man and not as a blackard. Ah, but you see in my profession,

I have mixed with blackguards, and that has lowered my moral tone. It is refreshing to me the straight, honorable man such as you are, Mr. Beacott. I liked you when I first set eyes on you and determined to help you discover the assassin of Aaron Norman. Lemuel Krill, you mean?

I prefer to call him by the name, we both know best, said Hurd, but as I was saying, I promise to help you find out who killed the man, and now I'll help you get back the money. Paul sat down and stared. What do you mean, he asked,

the money can't be got back. I asked a legal friend of mine and put the case to him since that monkey of a posh has thrown us over. My friend said that as no name was mentioned in the will,

maud Krill, would undoubtedly inherit the money besides i learn that the certificate of marriage is all right mrs krill undoubtedly married erin norman under his rightful name thirty years ago oh yes that's all right said herd producing a dainty silver cigarette case which was part of his get-up mrs krill is the widow of the murdered man and the silly way in which the will had been made gives the five thousand a year to her daughter who mrs krill has under her thumb it's all right as i say but i shouldn't be surprised to learn that there were circumstances in erin norman's past life which led him to leave his wife and which may lead mrs krill into buying silence by giving miss norman half the income you could live on two thousand odd a year huh not obtaining that way said beecott filling his pipe and passing a match to herd if the money comes legally to sylvia well and good otherwise she will have nothing to do with it hurd looked round the bleak garret expressively and shrugged his shoulders again i think you are wrong mr beacott you can't bring her here no but i may make enough money to give her a better home can i help you i don't see how you can i want to be an author well said hurd whose british speech was in strange contrast to his foreign appearance it's not a bad game to be an author if you get a good serial connection

oh don't look surprised i know about newspapers and publishers as i know about most things see here mr becott have you ever tried your hand at a detective story no i write on a higher level you won't write on a more paying level replied hurd coolly i know a newspaper which will give you if i recommend you mind one hundred pounds for a good detective yarn you apply for it couldn't make up one of those plots, so intricate. Pooh, it's a trick. You set your puppets in such and such a way, and then mix them up. I'll give you the benefit of my experience, and as a tech, with my plot and your own writing, will be able to knock up a story for the paper I talk of. Then, with one hundred pounds, you'll have a nest egg to start with. I accept with gratitude, said Becock, moved, but I really don't know why you should trouble about me.

because you're a white man and an honorable gentleman said the detective emphatically i've got a dear little wife of my own and she's something like this poor miss norman then again though you mightn't think so i'm something of a christian and believe we should help others i had a hard life mr beacott before i became a detective and many a time i have learned that prayers can be answered but this is all beside the question when on heard quickly and with that nervous shame with which an englishman masks the better part of himself i'll see about the story for you meanwhile i'm going to a card-party to meet incidentally mr graxton hay ah you still suspect him i do and with good reason he's got another mug in tow lord george sandel the son of lord well i needn't mention names but hay's trying to clear the young ass out and i'm on the watch hay will never know me as the count de la tour not he smart as he is i'm fly do you speak french well moderately but i play a silent part and say little i shut my mouth and open my eyes but what i came here to say is that i intend to find out the assassin of aaron norman i can't offer you a reward heard said paul with a sigh oh that's all right the widow by advice of posh has doubled the reward one thousand pounds it is now worth winning huh humph said paul moodily i shouldn't think she loved her husband so much as that herd's brown eyes shot a red flame which showed that he was excited though he was cool enough externally

yes he admitted in a careless manner she certainly does act the weeping widow in a rather exaggerated fashion however she's got the cash now or at least her daughter has which is the same thing the two have taken up their quarters in a fashionable hotel in the west end and are looking for a house the old woman manages everything and she will be one too many for mr hay what does he know mrs krill he said he didn't quite right he didn't when the ladies went first to posh's office but hay on the lookout for a rich wife got posh to introduce him to the ladies who are charmed with him he's making up to the daughter even in the few weeks that have elapsed and now is assisting them to find a house the daughter loves him i fancy but whether the mother will allow the marriage to take place i can't say surely not on such a short acquaintance hurd bent forward as about to say something then changed his mind really i don't know hay is fascinating and handsome have you been to see him yet no he asked me but all these troubles had put him out of my head why do you ask because next time he invites you go you warned me against him and i warn you again said the detective dryly don't ask me to explain for i can't but you go see hay when he invites you and make yourself agreeable especially to mrs krill am i likely to meet her asked paul with repugnance yes i fancy so after all you are engaged to the daughter of the dead man and mrs krill i don't count maud who's a tool is a deucedly clever woman she will keep her

eye on you and Miss Norman. Why, she has the money, and need take no further notice. Herd closed one eye in a suggestive manner. Mrs. Krill may not be so sure of the money, even though possession is nine points of the law. You remember that scrap of paper found by the maid? In which Norman warned Sylvia against allowing his real name to become known, yes.

Well, the letter wasn't finished. The old man was interrupted. it, I suppose, but in the few lines of writing, Norman says, Here Hurd, took a scrap of paper, a copy, out of his book, and read, If the name of Krill gets into the papers, there will be great trouble. Keep it from the public. I can tell you where to find the reasons for this as I have written. And then, said Hurd, refolding the paper, the writing ends.

But you can see that Aaron Norman wrote out an account of his reasons. which could not be pleasant for Mrs. Crill to hear. I still don't understand, said Paul, hopelessly puzzled. Well, said the detective, rising and putting on his smart hat, it's rather a muddle, I confess. I have no reason to suspect Mrs. Crill. Good heavens, heard, you don't think she killed her husband. No, I said that I have no reason to suspect her,

but I don't like the woman at all. Norman left his wife for some unpleasant reason, and that reason, as I verily believe, has something to do with his death. I don't say that Mrs. Crill killed him, but I do believe that she knows of circumstances which may lead to the detection of the criminal. In that case, she would save her thousand pounds. That's just where it is. If she does know, why does she double the reward?

a straightforward woman would speak out but she's a crooked sort of creature i shouldn't like to have her for my enemy it seems to me that you do suspect her said paul dryly but puzzled herd shrugged his shoulders no but i'm in a fix that's the truth said he and sauntered toward the door i can't see my way there's the clue of mrs krill's pass to be followed up and the hint contained in the the scrap of paper. The old man may have left the document behind, likely to solve the whole business. He hints as much here. True enough, but nothing was found. Then again when on heard, the request for the jewels to be delivered to that sailor chap was in Norman's handwriting and signed with his name. A forgery. No, posh. Who knows his writing better than any other man, says the document is genuine. Now then, Mr. Beacott,

what made Aaron Norman write and sign those lines, giving up his property, were a part of it just before his death. It may have been done in good faith. No, if so, the messenger would not have cleared out when Posh started for Gwynne Street. That nautical gentleman knew

what the lawyer would find at the house, and so made himself scarce after trying to get the jewels. This scrap of paper, Hurd touched his breast, and that request for the jewels in Pasha's possession, those are my clues. And the opal serpent? asked Paul. Hurd shook his head gloomily. Its connection with the matter is beyond me, he confessed.

End of Chapter 13. Chapter 14 of the Opal Serpent by Fergus Hume. This Librevox recording is in the public domain. Mr. Hay's Little Dinner The detective was as good as his word. In a few days, Paul was introduced to the editor of a weekly publication and obtained a commission for his story to be written

in collaboration with Mr. Hurd. It seemed that the editor was an old acquaintance of herds and had been extricated by him from some trouble connected with cards. The editor, to show his gratitude, and because that herds' experiences, thrown in the form of a story, could not fail to interest the public, was only too willing to make a liberal arrangement. Also, Paul was permanently engaged to supply short stories

to read those that were submitted to the editor, and, in fact, he permanently became that gentleman's right hand. He was a kind, Beery, bohemian of an editor, Scott by name, and took quite a fancy to Paul. I'll give you three pounds a week, said Scott, beaming through his large spectacles, and raking his long gray beard with tobacco-stained fingers. You can live on that, and to earn it,

you can give me your opinion on the stories. Then between whiles, you can talk to Herd and write this yarn, which I am sure will be interesting. Herd has had some queer experiences. This was quite true. Hurd had ventured on strange waters, but the strangest he ever sailed on were those connected with a Gwynne Street case.

These latter experiences he did not tell to Scott, who wasn't capable of holding his tongue. And secrecy, as the detective impressed upon Paul, was absolutely necessary to the conduct of the case. If we keep matters quiet, argued Hurd, and let those concerned in the matter fancy the case has been dropped, we'll be able to throw them off their guard, and then they may betray themselves. I wish you would say, if you think there's one person or two, said Paul, irritably, for his nerves were wearing thin under the strain.

You first talk of the assassin and then of the assassins. Well, drawd, heard, smiling, I'm in the dark you see, and being only a flesh and blood human being, instead of a creation of one of you authors, I can only grope in the dark and look in every direction for the light. One person, two persons, three, even four, may be engaged in this affair, for all I know. Don't you be in a hurry, Mr. Beacott? I believe in that foreign chap saying, without haste, without rest. Gerta said that. Then Gerta is a sensible man, and must have read his Bible.

Make no haste in time of trouble, says the scriptures. Very good, assented Beacot. Take your own time. I intend to, said Hurd, coolly. Bless you, slow and sure, is my motto. There's no hurry. You aren't fixed up with enough to live on, and a prospect of making more. Your young lady is happy enough with that grenadier.

dear of a woman in spite of the humbleness of the home mrs krill and her daughter are enjoying the five thousand a year and mr graxton hay is fleecing that young ass lord george sandal as easily as possible i stand by and watch everything and when the time comes i'll pounce down on ha said paul that's the question on whom one or two or a baker's dozen rejoined and Hurd calmly, my chickens ain't hatched yet, so I don't count them. By the way, is your old school fellow as friendly as ever? Yes, why? I can't understand, as he certainly will make no money out of me. He's given a small dinner to-morrow night at his rooms and has asked me. You go, said the detective, emphatically, and don't let on you have anything to do with me. See, here, Hurd, I won't play the spy. if you mean that.

I don't mean anything of the sort, replied Hurd earnestly, but if you do chance to meet Mrs. Crill at this dinner, and if she does chance to drop a few words about her past, you might let me know. Oh, I don't mind doing that, said Beacott, with relief. I am as anxious to find out the truth about this murder as you are, if not more so. The truth I take it is to be found in Crill's past,

before he took the name of Norman. mrs krill will know of that past and i'll try and learn all i can from her but hay has nothing to do with the crime and i won't spy on him very good do what you like but as to hay having nothing to do with the matter i still think hay stole that opal brooch from you when you were knocked down in that case hay must know who killed norman cried paul excited he just does rejoined hurd calmly and now you can understand another reason why i take such an interest in that gentleman but you can't be certain quite so i am in the dark as i said before but hay is a dangerous man and would do anything to rake in the dollars he has something to do with the disappearance of that brooch i'm sure and if so he knows more than he says besides hear heard hesitated it? No, I'll tell you that later. Tell me what? Something about hay that will astonish you and make you think he has something to do with a crime. Meanwhile, learn all you can from Mrs. Krill.

If I meet her, said Paul with a shrug. Undoubtedly heard, knew more than he was prepared to admit, and not even to Paul, staunch as he knew him to be, would he speak confidentially. When the time came the detective would speak out. At present he held his tongue and moved in clouds like a Homeric deity. But his eyes were on all those connected with the late Aaron Norman, indirectly or directly, although each and every one of them were unaware of the scrutiny. Paul had no scruples in learning all he could from Mrs. Krill. He did not think that she had killed her husband and probably might be ignorant

of the person or persons who had slain the poor wretch in such a cruel manner. But the motive of the crime was to be found in Norman's past, and Mrs. Crill knew all about this. Therefore, Paul was very pleased when he found that Mrs. Crill and her daughter were guests at the little dinner. Hay's rooms were large and luxuriously furnished. In effect, he occupied a small flat in the house of an ex-butler, and had first furnished the place himself in a siberite fashion the ex-butler and his wife and servants looked after hay and in addition that languid gentleman possessed a slim valet with a sly face who looked as though he knew more than was good for him

indeed the whole atmosphere of the rooms was shady and fast and paul simple young fellow as he was felt the bad influence the moment he stepped into the tiny drawing-room room. This was furnished daintily and with great taste in color and furnishings. It was more like a woman's room, and Mr. Hay had spared no cost in making it pleasing to the eye and comfortable to the body. The prevailing tone was pale yellow, and the electric light suffused itself through lemon-shaded globes. The Louis Quince furniture was upholstered in primrose, and there were many Persian-prane mats, and eastern draperies about the place water-color pictures decked the walls and numerous mirrors reflected the dainty pretty apartment a brisk fire was burning although the evening was not cold and everything looked delightfully pleasant paul could not help contrasting all this luxury and taste with his bare garret but with sylvia's love to warm his heart he would not have changed places with graxton hay for all his splendor two ladies were seated by the fire mrs krill in black majestic and calm as usual she wore diamonds on her breast and jewelled stars in her gray hair

although not young she was a wonderfully well-preserved woman and her arms and neck were white gleaming and beautifully shaped from the top of her head to the sole of her rather large but well-shodd foot she was dressed to perfection and waved a languid fan as she welcomed paul who was presented to her by the host i am glad to see you mr becock she said in her deep voice we had rather an unhappy interview when last we met how is miss norman she is quite well replied paul in as cordial a tone as he could command for the sake of learning what he could he wished to be amiable but it was difficult when he reflected that this large suave smiling woman had robbed sylvia of a fortune and had spoken of her in a contemptuous way but beacott swallowing down his pride held his little candle to the devil without revealing his repugnance too openly and apparently mrs krill believed that his composure was genuine enough for she was quite at her ease in his presence the daughter was dressed like the mother save that she wore pearls in place of diamonds she talked but little as usual and sat smiling the young image of the older woman hay also introduced paul to a handsome young fellow of twenty-one with rather a feeble face this was lord's george sandal the pigeon hay was plucking and although he had charming manners and an assumption of worldly wisdom he was evidently one of those who had come into the world saddled and bridled for other folks riding the third lady was also present who called herself aurora quianne

and hay informed his friend in a whisper that she was an actress paul then remembered that he had seen her name in the papers as famous and like comedy she was pretty and kittenish with fluffy hair and an eternal smile it was impossible to imagine a greater contrast to the massive firmness of mrs krill than the lively girlish demeanor of the little woman yet paul had an instinct that mrs quianne in spite of her profession an odd name and childish giggle was a more shrewd person than she looked every one was bright and merry and chatty all save maud krill who smiled and fanned herself in a statuesque way hay paid her great attention and paul knew very well that he intended to marry the silent woman for her money it would be hardly earned he thought with such a firm-looking mother-in-law as mrs krill would certainly prove to be the dinner was delightful well cooked daintily served and leisurely eaten a red-shaded lamp threw a rosy light on the white cloth the glittering crystal and bright silver the number of diners was left to beavers a light of the diners was left to light on the white cloth the glittering crystal and bright silver the number of diners was less than the muses and more than the graces and every one laid himself or herself out to make things bright and again maud krill may be mentioned has an exception she ate well and held her tongue merely smiling heavily when addressed paul glanced at her serene face across the rosy-hued table wondering if she really was as calm as she looked and if she really lacked the brain power her mother seemed to possess i'm glad to see you here becott said hay smiling i'm very glad to be here said paul adapting himself to circumstances especially in such pleasant company

you don't go out much said lord george no i'm a poor author who has yet to win his spurs i thought of being an author myself said the young man but it was such a fag to think about things You want your material supply to you, perhaps, put in Mrs. Krill in a calm, contemptuous way? Oh, no, if I wrote stories, like the author Johnny's, I'd break up my family history. There's lots of fun there. Your family mightn't like it, giggled Miss Quayin. I know lots of things about my own people, which would read delightfully if Mr. Beacott set them down, but then she shrugged her dainty shoulders.

oh dear me what a row there would be i suppose there's a skeleton in every cupboard said hey suavely and quite ignoring the shady tenant in his own there's a whole dozen cupboards with skeletons to match in my family said the young lord why i had an aunt lady racial sandal who was murdered over twenty years ago now he said looking triumphantly round the table which of you can say there's a murder in your family huh ladies and gentlemen paul glanced sideways at mrs krill wondering what she would say and wondering also how it was that lord george did not know she was the widow of the murdered lemuel whose name had been so widely advertised but hay spoke before anyone could make a remark what an unpleasant subject he said with a pretended shudder let us talk of less melodramatic things oh why said mrs krill using her fan i rather like to hear about murders paul thought for a moment that he did know about the gwynne street crime and intended to remark thereon but if so his good taste told him that he would be ill-advised to speak and he turned to ask for another glass of wine miss aurora quianne looked in her pretty shrewd way from one to the other i just love the newgate calendar she said clasping her hands there's lovely plots for dramas to be found there don't you think so mr beacott i don't read that sort of literature miss quian and then you don't know what people are capable of in the way of cruelty mr becott i don't want to know retorted paul finding the subject distasteful and wondering why the actress pressed it as she undoubtedly did i prefer to write stories to elevate the mind

miss quinn made agreements and shot a meaning look at him it doesn't pay she said tittering and money is what we all want i fear i don't care for money over much no said mrs krill to him in an undertone i know that from the way you spoke in mr posh's office i was standing up for the rights of another you will be rewarded she replied meaningly but what she did mean paul could not understand the rest of the dinner passed off well enough as the subject was changed lord george began the talk of racing and hay responded mrs krill alone seemed shocked i don't believe in gambling she said icily i hope you're not very down on it said hey lord george and i propose to play bridge with you ladies in the next room maud can play in miss quion said the widow i'll talk to mr beecott unless he prefers the fascination of the green cloth i would rather talk to you replied paul bowing mrs krill nodded and then went out of the room with the younger ladies the three gentlemen filled their glasses with port and hay passed round a box of cigars soon they were smoking and chatting in a most amicable fashion lord george talked a great deal about racing in cards and his bad luck with both hay said very little and every now and then cast a glance at paul to see how he was taking the conversation at length when sandal became a trifle vehement on the subject of his losses hay abruptly changed the subject by refilling his glass and those of his companions i want you to drink to the health of my future bride he said

what cried paul staring miss krill the same responded hay coldly you see i have taken your advice and intend to settle posh presented me to the ladies when next they came to his office and since then i have been almost constantly with them miss krill's affections were disengaged and she therefore with her mother's consent became my promised wife i wish you joy said lord george draining his glass and filling another and by joe for your sake i hope she's got money oh yes she's well off said hay calmly and you paul i congratulate you of course stammered beacott dazed but it's so sudden you haven't known her above a month five weeks or so said hay smiling and sinking his voice lower he added i can't afford to let grass grow under my feet this young ass here may snap her up and mrs krill would only be too glad to secure a title for maud i say said lord george suddenly and waking from a brown study who is mrs krill i've heard the name it is not an uncommon name said hay untruthfully and waking from a brown study who is mrs krill i've heard the name it is not an uncommon name said hay untruthfully and quickly she is a rich widow who has lately come to london where did she come from i can't tell you that from the wiles of yorkshire i believe you had better ask her oh by jove no i wouldn't be so rude but i seem to know the name paul privately thought that if he read the papers you ought to certainly know the name and he was on the point of making perhaps and injudicious remark but hay pointedly looked at him in such a meaning way that he held his tongue more when they left their wine for the society of the ladies hay squeezed his friend's arm in the passage

don't mention the death he said using a politer word by preference sandal doesn't connect mrs krill with a dead man she wants to live the matter down in that case she ought to leave london for a time she intends to when i make maud my wife we will travel with her mother for a year or two until the scandal of the murder blows over luckily the name of lemuel krill was not mentioned often in the papers and sandal hasn't seen a handbill that i know of i suppose you agree with me that silence is judicious yes assented paul i think it is and you congratulate me on my approaching marriage. Certainly, now perhaps, you will live like Falstaff when he was made a night. Hayd did not understand the illusion and looked puzzled. However, he had no time to say more as they entered the drawing-room.

Almost as soon as they did, Mrs. Krill summoned Paul to her side. And now she said, let us talk of Miss Norman. End of Chapter 14. chapter fifteen of the opal serpent by fergus hume this librivox recording is in the public domain a new clue i don't wish to talk of miss norman said paul bluntly then you can be no true lover retorted the widow i disagree with you the true lover does not talk to all and sundry concerning the most sacred feelings of his heart moreover your remarks at our last me were not to my taste i apologize said mrs krill promptly and will not offend in that way again i did not know you then but since mr hay has spoken about you to me i know and appreciate you mr but paul was not to be conjoled in this manner the more suave the woman was the more he felt inclined to be on his guard and he very wisely obeyed the prompting of his instinct i fear you do not know me mrs krill said he as coldly as hay could have spoken else you would hardly ask me to discuss with you of all people the lady whom i intend to make my wife

you are rather a difficult man to deal with she replied drawing her thick white eyebrows together but i like difficult men that is why i admire mr hay he is not a silly useless butterfly like that young lord there silly he is not but i doubt his being useful so far as i can see hey looks after himself and nobody else he proposes to look after my daughter so i understand replied becott politely but that is a matter entirely for your own consideration mrs krill still continued the smile in her placid way but she was rather nonplussed all the same from the appearance of beecot she had argued that he was one of those many men she could twist round her finger but he seemed to be less easily guided than she expected and for the moment she was silent letting her heart eyes wander toward the card-table round which sat the fore-playing and eager an engrossing game of bridge you don't approve of that perhaps no said paul calmly i certainly do not are you a puritan may i ask becott shook his head and laughed i'm a simple man who tries to do his duty in this world said he and who very often finds it difficult to do that same duty how do you find duty mr becott we are becoming ethical said paul with a smile i don't know that i am prepared with an answer at present then the next time we meet for i hope said mrs krill smoothing her face to a smile it had grown rather sombre that we shall often meet again you must come and see us we have taken a house in kensington chosen by mr hay yes he is our mentor in london society i don't think added mrs krill studying his face that you like mr

Hay. As I am Mr. Hay's guest, said Paul dryly, that is rather an unkind question to ask. I asked no question. I simply made a statement. Becott found the conversation rather embarrassing. In place of his pumping Mrs. Crill, she was trying to pump him, which reversal of his design he by no means approved of. He changed the subject of conversation by drawing a powerfully attractive red herring across the trail. You wish to speak to me about Miss Norman, he remarked? I do, answered Mrs. Crill, who saw through his design, but apparently that subject is as distasteful as a discussion about Mr. Hay.

Both subjects are rather personal, I admit, Mrs. Crill, however, if you have anything to tell me which you would like Miss Norman to hear, I'm willing to listen. Ah, now you are more reasonable, she answered, in a little. a cleese tone. It is simply this, Mr. Beacott, I am very sorry for the girl. Through no fault of her own she is placed in a difficult position. I cannot give her a name, since her father sinned against her, as he sinned in another way against me, but I can, through my daughter, who is guided by me, give her an income. It does not seem right that I should have all this money.

That your daughter should have all this money, interpolated Beacot. My daughter and I are one, replied Mrs. Crill calmly. When I speak for myself, I speak for her. But, as I say, it doesn't seem right we should be in affluence and Miss Norman in poverty. So I propose to allow her five hundred a year on conditions. Will she accept, do you think, Mr. Beacott? I should think her acceptance would depend upon the conditions. They're very simple, said Mrs. Crill, in her deep tones,

and looking very straight at Paul. She is to marry you and go to America. Becott's face did not change since her hard eyes were on it, but he was puzzled under his mask of indifference. Why did this woman want Sylvia to marry him and go into exile? He temporized. With regard to your wish that Miss Norman should marry me, he said quietly, it is, of course, very good of you to interest yourself in the matter.

I fail to understand your reason, however. ever yet the reason is patent rejoined mrs krill just as quietly and quite as watchful as before sylvia norman is a young girl without much character in that i disagree with you well let us admit she has character but she certainly has no experience in the world she is exposed to much trouble and perhaps maybe to temptation since her position is the fault of her father and she is entirely innocent i want her to have a happy life. For that reason, I wish her to marry you." Paul bowed, not believe in a word of this philanthropic speech. Again, I say it is good of you," said he, with some irony, but even were I out of the way, her nurse, Deborah Tauzy, would look after her. As madder stand, however, she will certainly become my wife as soon as we can afford a home.

You can afford it to-morrow," said Mrs. Krill eagerly, if you'll accept my offer. A home in America, said Paul, and why? I should think both of you would like to be away from a place where you have seen such a tragedy. Indeed, Paul committed himself to no opinion, and supposing we accept your offer, which I admit is a generous one, you suggest we should go to the States, or to Canada or Australia, or, in fact, you can go anywhere so long as you leave England. I tell you, Mr. Beacott, even at the risk of hurting your feelings, that I want that girl away from London. My husband treated me very badly. He was a brute always, and I hate to have that girl before my eyes. Yet she is innocent. Have I not said that a dozen

times, rejoined Mrs. Crill impatiently? What is the use of further discussion? Do you accept my offer? I will convey it to Miss Norman. It is for her to decide. but you have the right since you are to be her husband pardon me no i would never take such a responsibility on me i shall tell miss norman what you say and convey her answer to you thank you said mrs krill graciously but she was annoyed that her golden bait had not been taken immediately and in spite of her suavity paul could see that she was annoyed the more so when she began to explain of course you understand my feelings i confess i don't quite naturally the fact that you are connected with the murder in the public eyes pardon me said the woman swiftly but i am not the name of krill has hardly been noticed the public know that aaron norman was murdered no one talks of lemuel krill or thinks that i am the widow of the murdered man possibly i may come across some people who will connect to two names and look askance at me but the majority of people such as lord george there she pointed with her fan do not think of me in the way you say as he did they will think they remember the name lord george did not say that to you said paul swiftly nobody did to mr hay who told me rejoined mrs krill quite as swiftly to-night asked beecott remembering that hay had not spoken privately to miss krill since they came in from the dining-room

Oh, no, on another occasion, Lord George has several times said that he has a faint recollection of my name. Possibly the connection between me and the murder may occur to his mind, but he is really so very stupid that I hope he will forget all about the matter. I wonder you don't change your name, said Paul, looking at her. Certainly not. Unless public opinion forces me to change it, she said defiantly, my life has always been perfectly open and above-board, not like that of my husband.

Why did he change his name? asked Beacott, eagerly, too eagerly, in fact, for she drew back. Why do you ask, she inquired coldly. Paul shrugged his shoulders, an idle question, Mrs. Crill, I have no wish to force your confidence. There is no forcing in the matter, responded the woman. I have taken quite a fancy to you, Mr. Beacott, and you shall not. know what I do. Pray do not tell me if you would rather not." But I would rather, said Mrs. Krill bluntly, it will prevent your misconception of anything you may hear about us. My husband's real name was Lemuel Krill, and he married me thirty

years ago. I will be frank with you and admit that neither of us were gentle folks. We kept the public house on the outskirts of Christ Church in Hans, called the Red Pig. she looked anxiously at him as she spoke a strange name have you never heard of it before no had i heard the name it would have remained in my memory from its oddity paul might have been mistaken but mrs krill certainly seemed relieved yet if she had anything to conceal in connection with a red pig why should she have mentioned the name it is not a first-class hotel she went on smoothly and again with her false smile. We had only farm laborers and such like, as customers, but the custom was good and we did very well. Then my husband took to drink. In that respect he must have changed, said Paul quickly, for all the time I knew him, six months it was, I never saw him the worst for drink, and I certainly never heard from those who would be likely to know that he indulged in alcohol

to excess. All the same, added Paul, with an afterthought, of his conversation with sylvia in the embankment garden i fancied from his pale face and shaking hands and a tightness of the skin that he might drink exactly he did he drank brandy in large quantities and strange to say he never got drunk what do you mean exactly asked beacott curiously well said mrs krill biting the top of her fan and looking over it lamuel i'll call him by the old name never grew red in the face and even after years of drinking he never showed any sign of intemperance certainly his hands would shake at times but i never noticed particularly the tightness of the skin you talk of a certain shiny look explained paul quite so i never noticed it but he never got drunk so as to lose his head or his balance went on mrs krill but he became a demon a demon yes said the woman emphatically as a rule he was a timid nervous little man like a frightened rabbit and would not harm a fly but drink as you know changes the nature to the contrary of what it actually is i have heard that you would have seen an example in lemuel she retorted when he drank brandy he became a king a sultan from being timid he became bold from being timid he became bold from his own From not harming anyone he was capable of murder.

Often in his fits did he lay violent hands on me, but I managed to escape. When sober, he would moan and apologize in a provokingly tearful manner. I hated and despised him, she went on, with flashing eyes, but careful to keep her voice from reaching the gamblers. I was a fool to marry him. My father was a farmer, and I had a good edgy. education. I was attracted by the good looks of Lemuel, and ran away with him from my father's farm in Buckinghamshire. That's where Stolly is, murmured Paul. Stoli, echoed Mrs. Crill,

whose ears were very sharp. Yes, I know that town. Why do you mention it? The opal serpent brooch, with which your husband's lips were fastened, was pawned there. I remember, said Mrs. Crill calmly, Mr. Posh told me. It has never been found out how the brooch came to fasten the lips, so horrible it was, she shuddered. No, my father bought the brooch from the Stolley's pawnbroker, and gave it to my mother who sent it to me. When I had an accident, I lost it, but who picked it up, I can't say.

The assassin must have picked it up, declared Mrs. Krill decisively, else it would not have been used in that cruel way. though why such a brooch should have been used at all i can't understand i suppose my husband did not tell you why he wanted to buy the brooch who told you that he did asked paul quickly mr posh he told me all about the matter but not the reason why my husband wanted the brooch posh doesn't know said becott nor do i your husband fainted when i first showed him the brooch but i don't know why he said nothing again mrs krill's face in spite of her care showed a sense of relief at his ignorance but i must get back to my story she said in a hard tone we have to leave soon i ran away with lemuel who was then travelling with jewelry he knew a good deal about jewelry you know which he turned to account in his pawnbroking yes and amassed a fortune thereby i should never have credited him with so much sense said mrs krill contemptuously while at christ church he was nothing but a drunkard whining when sober and a furious beast when drunk i managed all the house and looked after my little daughter lemuel led me a dog's life and we quarrelled incessantly at length when maud was old enough to be my companion lemuel ran away i kept on the red pig and waited for him to him to be my companion lemuel ran away i kept on the red pig and waited for him to his

return but he never came back and for over twenty years i heard nothing of him till i saw the handbills and his portrait and heard of his death then i came to see mr posh and the rest you know but why did he run away asked paul i suppose he grew weary of the life and the way i detested him was her reply i don't wonder he ran away but there i have told you all so make what you can of it tell miss norman of my offer and make her see the wisdom of accepting it. And now, she rose and held out her hand, I must run away. You will call and see us. Mr. Hay will give you the address. What's that, said Hay, leaving the card table. Does Beecot want your address? Certainly. He went to a table and scribbled on a card. There you are, Hunter Street, Kensington, number 32A. Do come, Beacot. I hope soon to call on your your services to be my best man, and he cast a coldly loving look on Maude, who simply smiled

as usual. By this time the card party had broken up. Maud had lost a few pounds, and Lord George a great deal, but Miss Quinn and Hay had won. What luck, groaned the young lord, everything seems to go wrong with me. Stop and we'll try another game when the ladies have gone, suggested Hay, his impassive face lighting up. Then Beacott, I must go, said the young gentleman, who did not wish to be called upon as a witness in a possible

card scandal. And I'll go too, said Lord George. Whenever I play with you, hey, I always seem to lose. What do you mean by that? asked Raxton fiercely. Oh, he doesn't mean anything, said Miss Gwean, sweetly, and putting her cloak around her. Mr. Beacott, just take me to my cab. I'll take you to your carriage, said Hay, offering an arm to Mrs. Crill, which she accepted graciously.

Lord George followed, grumbling, with the ever-smiling maud. Miss Quyenne skipped into a handsome and offered Paul a drive back to town which he refused. As the cab was driving off, she bent down and whispered, be careful with a side-glance at Hay. Paul laughed. everyone seemed to doubt hay but that gentleman handed mrs krill and her daughter into their carriage and looked towards lord george you don't want your revenge to-night he asked no confound you said the young man sulkily in that case i'll drive into kensington with mrs krill and borrow her carriage for a trip to piccadilly good-night sandal good-night beacot he waved his hand and the ladies waved theirs and then the three drove away. Lord George lighted a cigar, and putting his arm within that of Bicott strolled down the road. Come to my club, he said.

No, thank you, answered Paul politely. I must get home. But I wish you'd come. I hate being by myself, and you seem such a good sort of chap. Well, said Bicott, thinking he might say a word, and seasoned to this young fool. I don't gamble. Oh, you cry down that, do you? well i think it's foolish it is assented lord george frankly infernally foolish and hay has all the luck i wonder if he plays square this was dangerous ground and paul shied i really can't say he said coldly i don't play cards but what do you know of hay asked sandal only that he was at school with me in torrington we met by accident the other day and he asked me the dinner torrington yes i had a brother at that school once said lord george but you and hay wouldn't get on well together i should think you're straight and he's you forget we have been dining with him said paul quickly what of that i've dined often and have paid pretty dearly for the privilege i must have lost at least five thousand to him within the last few months in that case i should advise you to play cards no more the remedy is easy said paul dryly

it isn't so easy to leave off cards rejoined sandal gloomily i'm that fond of gambling that i only seem to live when i've got the cards or dice in my hand i suppose it's like dram drinking if you take my advice lord george you'll give up card-playing with hay do you mean asked the other shrewdly with any one i know nothing about hay beyond what i have told you said sandal i don't think you're a chap like him at all i may look a fool but i ain't and can see through a brick wall same as most johnny's who can't see it all interpolated paul dryly ha ha that's good but i say about this hay what a queer lot he had there to-night i can't discuss that said paul stiffly he was not one to eat a man's bread and salt and then betray him sandal went on as though he hadn't heard him that actress is a jolly little woman said he i've seen her at the frivolty a ripping fine singer and dancer she is but those other ladies mrs and miss krill the young lord stopped short in the high street where have i heard that name he said looking up to the stars somewhere in the country maybe i go down sometimes to the hall my father's place i don't suppose you know it it's three miles from christ's church in hance said paul feeling he was on the verge of a discovery yes have you been there no but i have heard of the place there's a hotel there called the red pig which i thought ha cried young sandal stopping again and with such a shout that passers-by thought he was drunk

i remember the name the red pig a woman called krill kept that she can hardly be the same said paul not wishing to betray the lady no i guess not she'd hardly have the cheek to sit down with me if she'd hardly have the cheek to sit down with me if she'd hardly have the same said paul not she'd hardly have the cheek to sit down with me if she'd hardly have the same for did. But, Krill, yes, I remember. My aunt, you know. Your aunt? Yes, said Sandel, impatiently. She was murdered or committed suicide in that red-pig place, racial sandal, with her unlucky opals. Her unlucky opals, what do you mean? Why, she had a serpent set with opals she wore as a brooch, and it brought her bad luck. End of Chapter 15. serpent by Fergus Hume. This Libravox recording is in the public domain. Sylvia's Theory

It was close upon midnight when Paul reached his garret, Sandel, drove him in a handsome cab as far as Piccadilly Circus, and from that place Beacott walked through Oxford Street to Bloomsbury. He had not been able to extract further information of any importance from the young lord. It appeared that Lady Racial Sampers, sandal, in love with an inferior, had quarreled with her father, and had walked to Christchurch one night with the intention of joining the man she wished to marry in London. But the night was stormy, and Lady Rachel was a frail woman.

She took refuge in the red pig, intending to go the next morning. But during the night she was found strangled in the bedroom she had hired. Sandel could give no details, as the events happened before he was born. and he had only heard scraps of the dreadful story. Some people say Lady Rachel was murdered, explained Sandel, and others that she killed herself. But the opal brooch which she wore certainly disappeared. But there was such a scandal over the affair that my grandfather hushed it up.

I can't say exactly what took place, but I know it happened at a small pub kept by a woman called Krill. Do you think this woman is the same? It's hardly likely, said Paul, mendaciously, how could a woman who kept the small public-house become suddenly rich? True, answered Lord George, as they stopped in the circus, and she'd have let on she knew about my name had she anything to do with the matter. All the same I'll ask her.

Do so, said Paul, stepping out of the cab, he was perfectly satisfied that Mrs. Crill was quite equal to deceiving sandal the wonder was that she had not held her peace to him about a red pig you won't come on to my club asked sandal leaning out of the cab no thank you replied paul good-night and he walked away the fact is becock wished to put on paper all that he had heard that night and sent it the herd as soon as he reached his attic he set to work and wrote out a detailed account of the evening you might find out if lady rachel committed suicide or whether she was strangled by some one else ended beecott certainly the mention of the serpent brooch is curious this may be the event in norman's past life which led him to change his name paul wrote much more and then went out to post the letter it was after midnight when he did so there was not much chance of heard getting the letter before the second or third post the next day but paul felt that he had done his duty and he had supplied the information as speedily as possible so he went to sleep with a quiet mind in spite of the excitement of the evening but next morning he was unable to sit down to his desk as usual and felt disinclined to go to the newspaper office so he walked the jubilee town to see how sylvia was getting along deborah met him at the gate well i never mr becott said mrs tausy with her red arms akimbo in her usual attitude this is a sight for sore eyes won't my pretty be happy this day say what you may she's a makin out bills for the washing that's done bless her heart

for a clever beauty how is business asked paul entering the gate which deborah opened bless you mr becot i'll be a lady of fortune soon answered the proprietors of the laundry the way washings has come in is just amazing one would think folks never had no linen done up before and that they never did have said deborah rubbing her nose hard in my way which is a way if you'd only send along your shirts mr becott i'd be proud to show you what can be done with fronts and no thumb-nails down them to spoil their loveliness paul did not reply to this but laughed absently he was wondering if deborah had ever heard her master drop any hint as to his having come from the place where mrs krill resided and asked the question on the spur of the moment do you know christ church and hans deborah rubbed her nose harder and looked at him doubtfully me as said as i'd have no relatives must tell the truth now as i have said she rather incoherently for my sister tilly junk worked for some one in that their place for years but we never got on well she being upsetting and masterful so ask her to my wedding i didn't and denied relatives existing which they do she being alive ten years ago when she last wrote you have not heard from her since asked paul inquisitively sir you may burn me or prison me or put me in pillories said mrs tausie but deceive you i won't me and tilly not being of happy matchin don't correspond were londing both exclaimed debor father having bid a hawker but why she went to the country or why i stopped in gwynne street no one knows and may i ask mr beecott why you ask of that place

your late master came from christ's church mrs tausy did you never hear him mention it that i never did for close he was mr becott say what you like i never knowed but what he'd pawned and sold them bookses all his blessed life for all the talking he did if i'd know'd added deborah lifting her red finger and has he been married afore and intended to cast out my lovely queen i'd have strangled him myself he had no intention of casting out sylvia said paul musingly he certainly left the money to her then why have the other girl got it sylvia's name wasn't mentioned and miss krill is legally entitled as the legitimate daughter call her what you like she's a cat as her mother is afore her said mrs tausy indignantly and not young at that thirty and over as i'm a living woman oh i don't think miss krill is as old as that being a man you wouldn't sir men being blind to wrinklings and paint but paint she do the hussy and young she ain't over thirty if i die for the saying of it but mrs krill was married to your master only thirty years ago the more shame to her snapped deborah masterfully for she ain't an honest woman if the signs of age is believing will i write to my sister tilly as i don't love mr becott and ask if she knows master when he was in that there place which she can't have seeing she's been there but ten years and he away twenty no deborah you'd better say nothing the case's in herds hands i'll tell him what you say and leave the matter to him but you must be deceived about miss krill's age

i've got two eyes and a nose retorted miss tausie so don't talk of deceivings thirty and more she is the hussy let her jezebel of a ma lie as she like and can say what you will mr beecott but there's my pretty smiling from the window and the tubs of waiting so you go in and smoother to affections while i see that mrs purr irons the shirts which she do lovely there's no denying oh and deborah plunged round the corner of the house rampant and full of corn paul walked through the newly created garden in which he saw many proofs of sylvia's love for flowers and reached the door in time to take the girl in his arms she was flushed and joyful and her eyes were as bright as stars paul darling she said as they entered the sitting-room where she was struggling with the accounts i'm so glad you are here what's nine times nine eighty-one said paul looking at the long list of figures sylvia had been trying to add up why do you make your head ache with these accounts darling i must help debby paul and i get on very well with the aid of arithmetic and she pointed to a small school-book which she had evidently been studying let me take the burden from your shoulders said her lover smiling and sat down at the table-book which she had evidently been studying let me take the burden from your shoulders said her lover smiling and sat down at the table which was strewn with bills in about an hour he had arranged all these and had made them out neatly to Deborah's various customers then he directed the envelopes and Sylvia sealed them up all the time they laughed and chatted and despite the dull toil thoroughly enjoyed themselves but I'm glad to see Sylvia said Beecott pointing the three library volumes lying on the sofa that you enjoy yourself occasionally oh said sylvia pouncing on these i'm so glad you spoke paul i wanted to say something to you the confessions of a thug she read out and looked at paul have you read it

becott nodded by colonel meadows taylor a very interesting book but rather a bloodthirsty one for you dearest debby got it confessed miss norman along with some other books from a literary customer who could not pay his bill it is very strange paul that the confessions of a thug should be amongst the books really i don't see why smiled beacott fingering the old-fashioned volumes it's the finger of fate paul said sylvia solemnly then seeing her lover look puzzled i mean that i should find out what gore gore paul looked more puzzled than ever it's an indian word explained sylvia and means coarse sugar. The thugs eat it before they strangle anyone. Oh, laughed Beacott, and you think your father was strangled by a thug. My dear child, the thugs were stamped out years ago. You'll read all about it in the preface of that book, if I remember. But it's long since I read the work. Besides Darling, he added, drawing her to him caressingly, the thugs never came to England. Paul said Sylvia, still more solemnly, and resenting the laugh,

do you remember the thug that came into the shop? Oh, you mean the street hawker that Bart spoke of? Yes, I remember that such an Indian entered, according to Bart's tale, and wanted to sell bootlaces, while that young imp tray was dancing on poor Bart's body. But the Indian wasn't a thug, Sylvia. Yes, he was, she exclaimed excitedly, "'Hokar.'

"'He said he was, and Hokar was a thug. "'Remember the handful of coarse-brown sugar he left on the counter? "'Didn't Bart tell you of that?' "'Paul started. "'Yes, by Jovey did,' was his reply. "'Well then,' said Sylvia, triumphantly, "'that sugar was gore, "'and the thugs eat it before strangling anyone,

"'and father was strangled. "'Becott could not but be impressed. "'It is certainly—' very strange, he said, looking at the book, and it was queer your father should have been strangled on the very night when this Indian Hokar left the sugar on the counter. A coincidence, Sylvia, darling? No, why should Hokar leave the sugar at all? Well, he didn't eat it, and therefore, if he was a thug, he would have done so had he intended to strangle your father. I don't know, said Sylvia, with a look of obstinacy on her pretty face.

but remember the cruel way in which my father was killed, Paul. It was just what an Indian would do, and then the sugar, oh, I'm quite sure this hawker committed the crime. Beacott shook his head and strove to dissuade her from entertaining this idea. But Sylvia, usually so amenable to reason, refused to discard her theory, and indeed Paul himself thought that the incident of the sugar was queer. He determined to tell herd about the matter, and then the hawker might be found, and made to explain why he had left the gore on a counter.

But the sect of the thugs is extinct, argued Paul quickly. It can't be, Sylvia. But it is, she insisted, I'm sure, and from this firm opinion he could not move her. Finally, when he departed, he took the books with him and promised to read the novel again. perhaps something might come of Sylvia's fancy. The lovers spent the rest of the time in talking over their future, and Beacott looked hopefully towards making sufficient money to offer Sylvia a home. He also described to her how he had met Mrs. Crill and related what she was prepared to do. Do you think we should accept the five hundred a year, Paul said Sylvia doubtfully.

It would put everything right, and so long as I am with you, I don't care. care where we live. If you leave the decision to me, darling, said Paul, I think it will be best to refuse this offer. Something is wrong, where Mrs. Krill would not be so anxious to get you out of the country. Oh, Paul, do you think she knows anything about the murder?

No, dear, I don't think that. Mrs. Krill is far too clever a woman to put her neck in danger, but there may be a chance of her daughter losing the money, Sylvia, he asked. you saw maud krill how old would you take her to be oh quite old paul said sylvia decisively she dresses well and paints her face but she's forty oh sylvia not so much as that well then thirty and over insisted sylvie debby thinks the same as i do don't you think debby zeal may lead her to exaggerate it doesn't lead me to exaggerate said sylvia slightly offended and i have eyes in my head as well as debby that girl or that woman i should say is over thirty paul in that case said beecott his colour rising i fancy

i see the reason of mrs krill's desire to get you out of the country maudy added deliberately may not be your father's daughter after all what makes you think that well according to the marriage certificate and to mrs krill's admission she was married to your father's daughter's thirty years ago. If Maude is over thirty, can't you see Sylvia? Yes, Sylvia colored, you mean she may be the same as I am? Not exactly, dear, replied Paul, soothing her. I mean that Mrs. Krill may have been a widow and have had her little girl with her when she married your father. In that case, Maude certainly could not get the money, and so Mrs. Krill wants you to leave England. in case I would get it, said Sylvia excited. Paul looked puzzled and rather sad.

I can't say, dear, he replied doubtfully. Certainly the money is left to my daughter, but as the marriage with your mother unfortunately is void, I fear you would not inherit. However, he said grimly, there would be a certain pleasure in taking the money from that woman. Maude is a mere puppet in her hands, he laughed, and then, hey, would marry a poor bride, he ended maliciously.

Sylvia could not quite understand all this and gave up trying to solve the problem with a pretty gesture of indifference. What will you do, Paul, she asked. I'll see Hurd and tell him what you and Deborah say about the age of Maude Crill. Why not see Mr. Posh? Because he's a traitor, replied Beacott darkly, and knowing he has lost your confidence he will certainly try and give maud krill possession of the money no i'll speak to her who is my friend and yours he is clever and he will be able to unravel this tangle tell him about the gore also paul yes i'll explain everything i can and then i'll get him to go down to christ's church and see what happened there when your father lived with maud's mother

what did happen paul asked sylvia anxiously nothing he replied with an assumption of carelessness for he did not want to tell the girl about the fate of lady racial sandal but we may find in your father's past life what led to his murder do you think mrs krill had anything to do with it my own you asked that question before no i don't still one never knows i should think mrs krill is a dangerous woman although i fancy too clever to risk being hanged however herd can find out if she was in town on the night your father was killed that was on the sixth of july said sylvia yes and he was murdered at twelve after twelve said sylvia I heard the policeman on his beat at a quarter past and then I came down. Poor father was strangled before our very eyes, she said, shuddering. Hush, dear, don't speak of it, said Paul, rising. Let us talk of more interesting subjects. Paul, I can think of nothing till I learn who killed my poor father and why he was killed so cruelly.

Then we must wait patiently, Sylvia. Heard is looking after the matter, and I have every calm. confidence in herd and by jove added be caught with an afterthought mrs krill doubled the reward where she concerned in the matter she would not risk sharpening the wits of so clever a man as heard no sylvia who ever strangled your father it was not mrs it was this indian insisted sylvia and he's a thug paul laughed although he was far from thinking she might be wrong of course it seemed ridiculous that a thug should strangle the old man in the first place the thugs had been blotted out in the second if any survived they certainly would not exercise their devilish religion in england and in the third hokar putting aside his offering strangled victims to bowani the goddess of the sect had no reason for slaying an unoffending man finally there was the sailor to be accounted for the sailor who had tried to get the jewels from posh paul wondered if heard had found out anything about this individual it's all very difficult sighed beacot and the more we go into the matter the more difficult doesn't get but we'll see light some day heard if any one will unravel the mystery and sylvia agreed with him end of chapter sixteen chapter seventeen of the opal serpent by fergus hume this librovoc's recording

is in the public domain. Hurd's information For the next day or two, Paul was kept closely to work in the office, reading a number of tales which were awaiting his judgment. After hours, he several times tried to see Billy Hurd, but was unable to meet him. He left a note at the Scotland Yard office, asking if Hurd had received his communication regarding Mrs. Krill,

and if so, what he proposed to do, concerning it. Herd did not reply to this note, and Paul was growing puzzled over the silence of the detective. At length the answer came, not in writing, but in the person of Hurd himself, who called on Beacott. The young man had just finished his frugal meal, and was settling down to an evening's work when there came a knock to the door. Hurd, dressed in his usual brown suit, presented himself looking cool and composed. But he was more excited than one would imagine, as Paul saw from the expression of his eyes. The detective accepted a cup of coffee and lighted his pipe. Then he sat down in the armchair on the opposite side of the fireplace and prepared to talk.

Paul heaped on coals with a lavish hand, little as he could afford this extravagance. As the night was cold, and he guessed that her. herd had much to say so on the whole they had a very comfortable and interesting conversation i suppose you are pleased to see me asked herd puffing meditatively at his briar paul nodded very glad he answered that is if you have done anything about mrs krill well drawed the detective smiling i have been investigating that murder case lady racial sandals said becott eagerly is it really murder I think so, though some folks think it's suicide, curious that you should have stumbled across that young lord, when on heard, musingly, and more curious still, that he should have been in the room with Mrs. Crill without recollecting the name. There was a great fuss made about it at the time.

Oh, I can understand, Lord George, said Beacot promptly. The murder, if it is one, took place before he was born. and as there seems to have been some scandal in the matter the family hushed it up this young fellow probably gathered scraps of information from old servants but from what he said to me in the cab i think he knows very little quite enough to put me on the track of lemuel cruel's reason for leaving christ church is that the reason yes twenty-three years ago he left christ church at the very time lady rachel was murdered in his public house Then he disappeared for a time and turned up a year later in Gwynne Street with a young wife whom he had married in the meantime. Sylvia's mother? Exactly, and Miss Norman was born a year later. She's nearly twenty-one, isn't she?

Yes, she will be twenty-one in three months. Heard nodded gravely. The time corresponds, said he, as the crime was committed twenty-three years back, and Lord George is only twenty-month. I can understand how he knows so little about it. But didn't he connect Mrs. Crill with a man who died in Gwynne Street? No, she explained that. The name of Crill appeared only a few times in the papers

and was principally set forth with the portrait in the handbills. I shouldn't think Lord George was the kind of young man to bother about handbills. All the same. He might have heard talk at his club. Everyone isn't so stupid. no but at all events he did not seem to connect mrs krill with the dead man and even with regard to the death of his aunt he fancied she might not be the same woman what an ass he must be said herd contemptuously i don't think he has much brain confessed paul shrugging his shoulders but he asked me if i thought mrs krill was the same as the landlady of the red pig i denied that she was i don't like telling lies but that he was but-and-auntil but he asked me if i thought mrs krill was the same as the landlady of the red pig i denied that she was i don't like telling lies but in this case i hope the departure from truth will be pardoned you did very right said the detective the fewer people know about these matters the better especially a chatter-box like this young fool

do you know him yes under the name of count de la tour but i know of him in another way which i'll reveal later hay is still fleecing him he is but lord george seems to be growing suspicious of hay and paul related the conversation he had had with the young man hurd grunted i'm sorry he said i want to catch hay red-handed and if lord george grows too clever i may not be able to do so well said paul rather impatiently never mind about that fellow just now but tell me what you have discovered oh a lot of interesting things when i got your letter of course i at once connected the opal serpent with aaron norman and his change of name with the murder i knew that norman came to gwynne street over twenty years ago that came out in the evidence connected with his death therefore putting two and two together i searched in the newspaper of that period and found what I wanted. A report of the case? Precisely, after that I hunted up the records at Scotland Yard for further details that were not made public.

So I got the whole story together, and I am pretty certain that Aaron Norman, or, as he was then Lemuel Krill, murdered Lady Racial for the sake of that precious brooch. Ah, said Paul, drawing in a breath, now i understand why he fainted when he saw it again no wonder considering it was connected in his mind with the death of lady racial quite so and no wonder the man kept looking over his shoulder in the expectation of being tapped on the shoulder by a policeman i don't wonder also that he locked up the house and kept his one eye on the ground and went to church secretly to pray what a life he must have led upon my soul bad as the man was i'm sorry for him so am i said paul and after all he's sylvia's father poor girl do have a murderer for a father

becott turned pale i love sylvia for herself he said with an effort and if her father had committed twenty murders i would not let her go but she must never know no said herd stretching his hand across and giving paul a friendly grip and i knew you'd stick to her it wouldn't be fair to blame the girl for what her father did before she was born we must keep everything from her herd i'll marry her and take her abroad sooner than she should learn of this previous murder but how did it happen i'll tell you in a few minutes herd rose and began to pace the narrow limits of the attic by the way do you know that norman was a secret drinker of brandy paul nodded and told the detective what he had learned from mrs krill hurd was much struck with the intelligence i see said he what mrs krill says is quite true drink does change the ordinary nature into the opposite krill sober was a timid rabbit krill drunk was a murderer and a thief good lord and how he drank oh how do you know well confessed hurd nursing his chin Posh and I went to search the Gwynne Street House to find, if possible, the story alluded to in the scrap of paper Deborah Junk found. We couldn't drop across anything of that sort, but in Norman's bedroom, which nobody ever entered,

we found brandy bottles by the score. Under the bed ranged along the walls, filling cupboards stowed away in boxes. I had the curiosity to count them. Those we found, ran up to five hundred and lord knows how many more he must have got rid of when he found the bottles crowding him inconveniently i expect he got drunk every night said paul thinking when he locked up sylvia and deborah in the upper room i can understand now why he did so he could go to the cellar and take possession of the shop-key left on the nail by bart then free from all intrusion he could drink till reeling not that i think he ever did reel went on beecot mindful of what mrs krill had said he could stand a lot i expect the brandy only converted him into a demon and a clever business man said hurd you know aaron norman was not clever over the books bart sold those but from all accounts he was a shylock when dealing after seven o'clock in the pawnbroking way i understand now sober he was a timid fool drunk he was a bold clever villain my poor sylvia what a father sighed paul but this crime i'll tell you about it lamuel krill and his wife kept the red pig at christ church a little public house it is on the outskirts of the town frequented by farm laborers and such like

the business was pretty good but the couple didn't look to making their fortune mrs krill was a farmer's daughter the buckinghamshire farmer said paul how do you know oh on receiving information mrs krill told you-you-you-hear farmer said paul how do you know oh on receiving information mrs krill told you you so. Well, considering the murder of Lady Rachel, she would have done better to hold her tongue and have commenced life with her dead husband's money under a new name. She's a clever woman, too, mused Hurd. I can't understand her being so unnecessarily frank. Never mind, go on, said Paul impatiently. Herd returned to his seat and refilled his pipe. Well, then, he continued, Crowe got drunk and gave his wife great friends. trouble. Sometimes he thrashed her and blackened her eyes, and he treated their daughter badly, too. How old was the daughter? I can't say, why do you ask? I'll tell you later. Go on, please.

Well, then, Mrs. Krill always revenged herself on her husband when he was sober and timid. So the couple were evenly matched. Crill was master when drunk, and his wife's mistress when he was sober, a kind of seesaw sort of life they must have led. Where does Lady Rachel come in? What an impatient chap you are, remonstrated, heard, in a friendly tone. I'm coming to that now. Lady Rachel quarreled with her father over some young artist she wanted to marry. He would not allow lover to come to the hall, so Lady Rachel said she would kill herself

rather than give him up. And she did, said Paul, thinking of her. the suicide theory. There you go again. How am I to tell you all when you interrupt? I beg your pardon. I won't do so again. Heard nodded smilingly and continued.

One night, it was dark and stormy, Lady Rachel had a royal row with her father. Then she ran out of the hall, saying her father would never see her alive again. She may have intended to commit suicide, certainly, or she may have intended to join her lover in London. but whatever she intended to do, the rain cooled her. She staggered into Christ's church and fell down insensible at the door of the red pig.

Mrs. Krill brought her indoors and laid her on a bed. Did she know who the lady was? Hurd shook his head. She said in her evidence that she did not, but living in the neighborhood she certainly must have seen Lady Racial sometimes. Crill was drunk as usual. He had been boozing all day with a skipper of some craft at Southampton. He was good for nothing, so Mrs. Crill did everything. She declares she went to bed at eleven, leaving Lady Racial sleeping. Did Lady Racial recover her senses? Yes, according to Mrs. Crill, but she refused to say who she was,

and merely stated that she would sleep at the red pig that night and would go on to London next morning. Mrs. Crill swore that Lady Racial had no idea of committing suicide. Well about midnight, Mrs. Crill, who slept in one room with her daughter, was awakened by loud shouts. She sprang to her feet and hurried out. Her daughter came also as she had been awakened and was terrified. Mrs. Crill found that her husband was raving mad with drink and smashing the furniture in the room below. The Skipper? What was the skipper's name?

Jessop. Jarvie Jessop. Well, he also, rather drunk, was retiring to bed and stumbled by chance in the Lady Racial's room. He found her quite dead and shouted for assistance. The poor lady had a silk handkerchief she wore, tied tightly around her throat. and fastened to the bedpost. When Jessup saw this, he ran out of the inn in dismay. Mrs. Crill descended to give the alarm to her neighbors. But Crill struck her down, and struck his daughter also, making her mouth bleed.

An opal brooch that Lady Racial War was missing. But Mrs. Crill only knew of that the next day. She was insensible from the blow given by Crill, and the daughter ran out to get assistance. When the neighbors entered, Crill was gone, and notwithstanding all the search made for him, he could not be found. And Jessop, he turned up and explained that he had been frightened on finding the woman dead. But the police found him on his craft at Southampton, and he gave evidence.

He said that Crill, when drunk, was like a demon, as Mrs. Crill told you, had left the room several times. The last time he came back, he and the same. The skipper had a final drink, and then Jessup retired to find the body. It was supposed by the police that Krill had killed Lady Rachel for the sake of the brooch, which could not be discovered. But the brooch. Hold on.

I know what you are about to say. We'll come to that shortly. Let me finish this yarn first. It was also argued that, from Lady Rachel's last words to her father, and from the position of the body, tied by the neck to the bedpost, that she had committed suicide. Mrs. Krill, as I said, declared the deceased lady never mentioned the idea of making a way with herself. However, Krill's flight, and the chance that, being drunk, he might have strangled the lady for the sake of the brooch while out of the room, made many think he was the culprit,

especially, as Jessup said that Krill had noticed the brooch and commented on, the opals. He was a traveler in Jules once, according to his wife. Yes, and left that to turn innkeeper. Afterwards he vanished, as I say, and became a pawnbroker in Gwynstreet.

Well, the jury at the inquest could not agree. Some thought Lady Racial had committed suicide and others that Krill had murdered her. Then the family didn't want a scandal, so in one way or another the matter was hushed up.

The jury brought in a verdict of suicide by a majority of one, so you can see how equally they were divided. Lady Rachel's body was laid in the family vault, and nothing more was heard of Lemuel Krill. What did Mrs. Krill do? She stopped on at the inn, as she told you. People were sorry for her and helped her, so she did very well. Mother and daughter have lived at the Red Pig all these years.

respected until they saw the handbills about krill then the money was claimed but as the circumstances of lady racial's fate was so old nobody thought of mention it till this young lord did so to you and i as you see have hunted out the details what is your opinion heard asked paul deeply interested oh i think krill murdered the woman and then cut to london that a counsellor is looking over his shoulder etc about which we talked. But how did he get the money to start as a bookseller? Premises are not least in Gwynstreet for nothing. Well, he might have got money on the brooch. No, the brooch was pawned by a nautical gentleman. Paul started up.

Captain Jessup, perhaps. You remember, he said excitedly. Ah, said Hurd, puffing his pipe with satisfaction. I see you understand. I mentioned that about the brooch. to hear what you would say. Yes, Jessup must have pawned the brooch at Stolley, and it must have been Jessup who came with a note for the jewels to posh.

Ha, said Paul, walking excitedly about the room, then it would seem that Jessop and Krill were in league. I think so, said Hurd, staring at the fire, and yet I am not sure. Jessop may have found that Krill had killed the woman, and then have made him give up the brooch, which he afterwards pawned at the fire, Stolley. Though why he should go near Mrs. Crill's old home, I can't understand.

Is Stoley near her old home? Yes, in Buckinghamshire. However, after pawning the brooch, I expect Jessop lost sight of Crill till he must have come across him a few days before the crime. Then he must have made Krill, sign the paper, ordering the jewels to be given up by Posh, so that he might get money. A kind of blackmail, in fact. Well, said Hurd doubtfully, after all, Jessop might have killed Krill himself. But how did Jessop get the brooch? Ah, that I can't tell you, unless Norman himself picked it up in the street. We must find these things out.

I'm going to Christchurch to make inquiries. I'll let you know what I discovered. Anne Heard Rose. One minute, said Paul hastily. Do you think Miss Krill is the dead man's child? of course. She says like her mother has two peas. Why do you ask?

Paul detailed what Sylvia and Deborah had said. So, if she is over thirty, said Beacott, she can't be Crill's child, or else she must have been born before Crill married his wife. In either case, she has no right to the money. It's strange, said her, musingly. I'll have to look into that. Meanwhile, I've got plenty to do. There's another thing I have to say.

You'll confuse me, Beacott. What is it? The sugar and that hawker. And Paul related what Sylvia had said about thugism. Heard sat down and stared. That must be boss, she said, looking at the novel, and yet it's mighty queer. I say, he took the three volumes. Will you lend me these? Yes, be careful. They are not mine. I'll be careful, but I can't dip into them,

just yet, nor can I go into that Hindu business, let alone this age of Miss Crill. The first thing I have to do is to go to Christ's church and see— And see if Mrs. Crill was at home on the night of the 6th of July? Hurd started. Oh, he said dryly, the night the crime was committed, you mean? Well, I didn't intend to look up that point, as I do not see how Mrs. Krill can be implicated. However, I'll take a note of that, and this he did, and then continued, but I'm anxious to find Jessup. I shouldn't be at all surprised to learn that he committed

the double crime. The double crime? Yes, he might have strangled Lady Racial, and twenty years later have killed Krill. I can't be sure, but I think he is the guilty person. End of Chapter 17. Chapter 18 of the Opal Serpent by Fergus Hewn. This Librevox recording is in the public domain. At Christ Church, Hans. The next afternoon, Heard was on his way to the former abode of Mrs. Krill. During the journey, he glanced at his notes, and arranged what inquiries he should make.

It struck him as strange that Mrs. Krill should have told paul of her association with a red pig considering the reputation of the place in connection with lady racial sandals murder or suicide it would have been better had mrs krill changed her name by letters patent and have started a new life on her dead husband's money the detective could not understand the reason for this unnecessary frankness before leaving town he took to precaution the call on posh and note down a description of the sailor presumably jessup who had tried to obtain possession of the jewels on the morning after the crime had been committed in gwynne street he learned that the man who had given no name was tall and stout with the flushed skin of a habitual drinker of strong waters and reddish hair mixed with gray he also had a scar running from his right temple to his mouth although this was partly concealed by a beard yet it was distinctly visible the man was dressed in blue serge carried his large hands slightly clenched and rolled in his gate hurd noted these things down and had little doubt but what he would recognize the man if he came across him connecting him with the individual who had pawned the brooch at stowley hurried fancy he might be jessop he resolved to look for him in southampton as judging from the evidence given at the inquest on lady racial's remains that was the port of call for the mariner

at the station immediately before that of christ's church heard glanced at a telegram which he produced out of his pocket-book and then leaned out of the carriage window a pretty daintily dressed little woman saw him and at once entered the carriage with a gay laugh she was miss aurora quion and paul would have been considerably astonished had he overheard her conversation with mr hurd but the detective and the actress had the compartment to themselves and talked freely it's the safest place to talk in explained mrs quion producing a bag of chocolate and eating during the conversation of course i told the landlady at the red pig that my brother was coming down so we can go there right enough. But the walls have ears. I don't think railway carriages have, though, and we have much to say, Billy. Have you found out anything, Aurora, asked her. Miss Quyenne nodded, a great deal, considering I have been in the place only 24 hours. It's a good thing. I'm out of an engagement, Billy, where I shouldn't have time to leave London, or to look after that man, hey, I am a good sister.

Well, you are, but there's money in the business also. If I can get that thousand pounds, you'll have your share. I know you'll treat me straight, Billy, said the actress, with much satisfaction. I always say that my brother is as square man as I know. The deuce you do, said Hurd, rather vexed. I hope you don't go telling everyone that I'm your brother, Aurora. Only one or two special friends. Not, hey, you may be sure.

nor does that nice mr becock know that we are brother and sister you best keep it dark and say nothing aurora it's just as well you left the private detective business and went on the stage you talk too much oh no i don't retort it miss queon eating a sweet don't be nasty billy or i'll tell you nothing her brother shrugged his shoulders he was very fond of aurora but he saw her many faults and she certainly had too long a tongue a tongue but she certainly had too long a tongue but she had too long a tongue and she had too long a tone for one engaged in private matters. What about, hey, he asked? Aurora raised her eyes. I thought you wanted to know of my discoveries at Christchurch, she said, pouting. Well, I do, but hey. Oh, he's all right.

He's going to marry Miss Krill and her money, and is getting cashed together by fleecing young sandal. That fool will play and keeps losing his money, although I've warned him. Then don't warn him. i wish to catch hay red-handed ah miss quinn nodded you may catch him red-handed in a worse matter than gambling aurora you don't mean to say he has anything to do with the murder of aaron norman well i don't want to go far as to say that billy but when i got settled in the private sitting-room of the red pig on the plea that i had come down for a change of air and expected my brother which you do without any lies yes that's all right Billy, she said impatiently,

well, the first thing I clapped eyes on was a portrait of Gretton Hay in a silver frame on the mantelpiece. Hmm, said Hurd, nursing his chin in his hand, he may have given that to Miss Crill during the engagement. I dare say, rejoined the actress tartly,

for he has been engaged for many a long day, say two years. I thought so, said Hurd triumphantly. I always fancied the meeting at Pasha's office was a got-up thing. What made you think so? Because, when disguised as Count de la tour, I overheard hay address Miss Crill as mawed,

and it was the first time she and her mother came to his rooms. Sandal was there, and gambling went on as usual. I lost money myself, said Hurd, with a grimace, in order to make Hay think I was another pigeon to pluck. But the mention of the Christian name, and so short an acquaintance showed me that Hay and Miss Crill had met before.

I expect the meeting at Pasha's office was a got-up game. You said that before, Billy. How you repeat yourself. Yes, there's an inscription on the portrait from Graftston the Maud with much love. Sweet, isn't it?

When you think what an icicle the man is. There's also a date two years ago the photograph was given. I admired the photograph and asked the landlady who was to swell. What's the landlady's name? Matilda Junk. Heard almost jumped from his seat. That's queer, he said.

The woman who is devoted to Miss Norman, and who nursed her since she was a baby, is called Deborah Junk. I know that, said Aurora. I'm not quite a fool, Billy. I mentioned Deborah Junk, whom I saw at the inquest on Norman's body. the landlady said she was her sister but she had not heard of her for ages and this matilda is just like deborah in looks a large dutch doll with beady eyes and a badly painted face well that's a point said herd making a note what did she say about the photograph oh that it was one of mr hay who was miss krill's young man and that they had been engaged for two years

matilda seems to be a chatter-box she is i got a lot out of her then there can be nothing to conceal on the part of mrs krill well said aurora throwing the empty sweet meat bag out of the window and brushing her lap so far as i can discover mrs krill is a perfectly respectable person and has lived for thirty years as the landlady of the red pig matilda acknowledged that her mistress had inherited the money of the money of her-and-auntil she had inherited the money of the money of her own little bit of the red pig matilda acknowledged that her mistress had inherited the money of lemuel krill and matilda knows all about the murder matilda is wrong said the detective dryly miss krill gets the money aurora smiled from what i heard miss krill has to do what her mother tells her she's nobody and her mother is all the world matilda confessed that her mistress had behaved very well to her when the money came she gave up the red pig to matilda junk who was now the landlady with a proviso she should hold her tongue no mrs krill so far as i can learn has nothing to conceal even if it becomes known in london that she was a landlady of a small pub i don't think it will matter did you ask questions about lady rachel's murder no you gave me only a hint when you sent me down I didn't like to venture on the ground I wasn't sure of. I'm more cautious than you."

Well, I'll tell you everything now, said Hurd, and gave a rapid sketch of what he had learned from the newspapers and the Scotland Yard papers relative to the Sandal Affair. Aurora nodded. But Matilda Junk said nothing of that. She merely stated that Mr. Lemuel Crill had gone to London over twenty years ago, and that his wife knew nothing of him until she saw the handbills. Hmm, said Hurd again, as the train slowed down to the Christ's church station. It seems all fair and aboveboard.

What about Jessup? Knowing so little of the Lady Racial case, I didn't inquire about him, said Aurora. I've told you everything. Anyone else stopping at the inn? No, and it's not a bad little place after all. The rooms are clean, and the food's good, and the charge is low. I'd rather stop at the red pig, small as it is, than a big hotel. The curries, oh, they're delightfully hot.

Miss Queen screwed her small face into a smile of ecstasy, but then a native makes them. Hurd started. Curries, a native? Yes, a man called Hokar. Aurora, that's the man who left the sugar on the counter. of Norman's shop. I forgot you don't know about that, and heard rapidly told her of the episode.

It's strange, said Miss Quyenne, nodding with a far-away look. It would seem that Mrs. Crill knew of the whereabouts of her husband before she saw the handbills. And possibly, about the murder also, said Hurd. Brother and sister looked at one another.

The case was becoming more and more interesting. Mrs. Crill evidently knew more that she chose to admit, but at this moment the train stopped and they got out. Herd took his handbag and walked into the town with his pretty sister tripping beside him. She gave him an additional piece of information before they arrived at the Red Pig. This whole car is not at all popular, she said. They say he eats cats and dogs. Yes, I've talked to several old women, and they say they lost their animals. One cat was found strangled in the yard and—

Strangled? Interrupted the detective? Hmm. And the man's an Indian, possibly a thug. What's a thug? asked Aurora, staring. Hurd explained. I ran through the book lent by Beacott last night, he added, and was so interested I sat up till dawn. you do look chippy said his sister candidly but from what you say there are no thugs living no the author said so still it's queer this strangling and the cruel way in which the man was murdered just what a hindu would do the sugar too

oh nonsense hokar left the sugar by mistake if he had intended to murder norman he wouldn't have given himself away i expect he never thought any one would guess he was a thug the novel is not one usually read nowadays it was the merest chance that miss norman came across it and told i don't believe in such coincidences said aurora dryly for in spite of her fluffy kittenish looks she was a very practical person but here we are at the red pig nice and comfy isn't it the inn was certainly very pretty it stood on the very verge of the town and beyond stretched fields and hedgerows the house itself was a whitewashed thatched rustic cottage with a badly painted sign of a large red cell outside were benches where topper set and the windows were delightfully old-fashioned diamond-pained casements quite a dickens inn of the old-coaching days was the red pig. But Hurd gave the pretty, quaint, hostile, only a passing glance.

He was staring at a woman who stood in the doorway, shade in her eyes with a palm of her hand from the setting sun. In her, the detective saw the image of Deborah Junk, now Tauzy. She was at the same gigantic build,

with the same ruddy face, sharp, black eyes, and a boisterous manner. But she had not, not the kindly look of Deborah, and of the two sisters, heard preferred the one he already knew. "'This is my brother, Miss Junk,' said Aurora, marching up to the door.

He will only stay until tomorrow.' "'You're welcome, sir,' said Matilda, in a loud and hearty voice, which reminded the detective more than ever of her sister. "'Will you please walk in and have some tea?' Heard nodded, and repaired to the tiny sitting-room, where he saw the photograph of hay on the mantelpiece. Aurora had a hint from her brother went to her bedroom to change her dress

and heard spoke to Matilda when she brought in the tray. I know your sister, said he. Miss Junk nearly dropped the tray. Lord now, only think, why we ain't wrote to one another for ten years, and I left London eleven years back. And how is she, sir?

And where is she? she is well she has a laundry in jubilee town near london and she is married to a fellow called bert tausie married cried matilda setting down the tray and put in her arms akimbo just like deborah lord and me still single but now i've got this house and a bit put by i'll think of getting a husband i ain't goin to let debby crow over me your sister was in the service of mr norman before she took up the laundry observed hurd pouring out a cup of tea was she now and why did she leave the name of norman apparently was unknown to matilda so herd tried to effect another bombshell her master was murdered under the name of lemuel krill mercy matilda dropped into a chair with a thud which shook the room why that's my lady's husband and father what ladies asked her to pretending ignorance my ladies mrs krill and miss maud they had this house and kept it for years respectable i worked for em ten and when my ladies come in for a fortune for a fortune there is they gave me the good-will of the red pig to think of debby being the servant of poor mr krill as was killed who killed him doesn't your mistress know she cried matilda indignantly and bouncing up why she was always a-looking for him not as she loved him overmuch as he is dead sir it is no more as what he ought to be seeing as he killed a poor lady in this very house

you'll sleep in her room to-night added matilda as if that was a pleasure strangled she was i think i heard of that but lady racial sandal committed suicide. Matilda rubbed her nose after the Deborah fashion. Well, sir, my ladies, were never sure which it was, and of course it was before my time considerable, being more nor twenty years back. But the man as did it is dead, and left my ladies as money as he oughta. And Miss Maud are going to marry a real gent. Matilda glanced at the photograph. I always said he was a gent, being so haughty-like, and wearing evening-dress at meals late. Was he ever down here this gentleman? He's been coming and going for months, and Miss Maud loves him something cruel.

But they'll marry now and be happy. I suppose your ladies sometimes went to see this gent in town. Meeting Mr. Hay said Matilda artlessly. Well, sir, they did one at a time and then together. Mrs. would go and Miss would follow, and Miss and Mrs. together would take their joy of the towers and shops and Madame Tussards and such like Mr. Hay, always looking after them. Did they ever visit Mr. Hay in July? No, they didn't, snap Matilda, with a change of tone which did not escape heard, and I don't know, sir, why you ask them questions. my good woman i ask no questions if i do you need not reply let us change the subject my sister tells me you make good curries in this hotel hokar do me being but a plain cook oh he's an indian yes he is sir a poor indian castaway as mrs took up with when he come here drenched with rain and weary ah mrs was always good and kind and christian

and like. Privately heard, thought this description did not apply very well to the lady in question, but he was careful not to arouse Matilda's suspicions again by contradicting her. He pretended to joke.

I wonder you wouldn't marry this Indian and keep him here always to make the curries I've heard of. Me, marry a black, cried Matilda, tossing her rough head. Well, sir, I never. and her breath failed her and him going about the country what do you mean by that what i say said miss junk he'll stop here christianlike for days and then go off to sell things as a hawker my pa was a hawker sir but a white white man of the finest hurd was about to ask another question when a husky voice was heard singing somewhat out of tune what's that asked hurd irritably

lord sir what nerves you have tis only captain jessup making himself happy like captain jessup heard laughed he had run down his man at last end of chapter eighteen chapter nineteen of the opal serpent by fergus hume this librivox recording is in the public domain captain jessup apparently matilda junk was quite ignorant of anything being wrong about her ladies although she did shirk the question regarding their possible visit to london in july however heard it learn that graxton hay was not only an old friend but had been engaged to maud for many months this information made him the more certain that hay had robbed the beacot of the opal brooch at the time of the accident and that it had passed from mr hay's hands into those of the assassin i wonder if mrs krill murdered her husband in that cruel way thought the detective sitting over his tea but what could have been her object she could have gone up on learning from hay that aran norman was her husband as i believe she did and could then have made him give her the money by threatening him with the murder of lady racial i dare say aaron norman in his krill days did strangle that lady to get the opal brooch and his wife could have used what she knew to govern him there was no need of murder i'll see about getting the truth out of hay aurora he cried oh there you are he added as she entered the room i want you to go back to town this night what for billy can you get hay into trouble

aurora nodded i have proofs of his cheating lord george and others if that's what you mean she said but you didn't want them used nor do i he is such an eel he may wriggle out of our clutches but can't you give a party and invite lord george and hay and then get them to play cards should hay cheat denounce him to george sandal what good would that do asked miss quinn with widely open eyes it will make hay confess about the brooch to save himself from public shame his reputation is his life remember and if he has caught red-handed cheating he'll have to clear out of town pooh as if that mattered he's going to marry miss krill if miss krill keeps the money and i doubt if she will but billy never mind don't ask me any more questions but go and pack this captain jessop is in the bar drinking i'm may probably have to arrest him. I got a warrant on the chance of finding him here. I can arrest him on suspicion, and won't let him go until I get at the truth. Your business is to bring hay to his knees and get the truth out of him about the opal servant. You know the case. Yes, grumbled Aurora, I know the case, but I don't like this long journey tonight. Every moment is precious.

If I arrest Jessup, Matilda Junk will tell her ladies. who will speak to hay and then he may slip away as the brooch evidence is so particular and as i believe he can give it if forced you can see the importance of losing no time miss quinn nodded and went away to pack she wanted money and knew billy would give her goodly share of the reward in a few minutes miss junk of the red pig learned that miss quinn was suddenly summoned the town and would leave in an hour Quite unsuspectingly, she assisted her to pack, and shortly Aurora was driving in a hired vehicle to the railway station on her way to trap Braxton Hay. When she was safely off the premises, Hurd walked to the telegraph office and sent a cipher message to the yard, asking for a couple of plain-closed policemen to be sent down. He wanted to have Hokar and Miss Matilda junk watched, also the house. in case Mrs. Krill and her daughter should return. Captain Jessup, he proposed to look after himself,

but he was in no hurry to make that gentleman's acquaintance, as he intended to arrest him quietly in the sitting-room after dinner. Already he had informed Matilda that he would ask a gentleman to join him at the meal and taste Hokar's curry. The thought of the curry brought the Indian to his mind, and when he got back to the red pig he strolled round the house inspecting the place but in reality keeping eyes and ears open to talk to the hindoo thinking he might meet the man sometime heard had carefully learned a few phrases relating to thugism in english of course since he knew nothing of the indian tongues these he proposed to use in the course of conversation with hokar and watched the effect soon He found the man sitting cross-legged under a tree in the yard smoking.

Evidently his work for the day was over, and he was enjoying himself, remembering the description given by Bart, the detective saw that this was the very man who had entered the shop of Aaron Norman. He wore the same dress and looked dirty and disreputable, quite a waif and astray. Hello, said Hurd casually. What are you doing? Talk English, huh?

Yes, sir. said Hokar calmly. I spiked good English. Missionary teach Hokka English. I'm glad of that we can have a chat, said Hurd, producing his pipe. He also produced something else,

with which he had provided himself on the way back from the post office. In another minute, Hokka was staring at a small parcel of coarse brown sugar. With all his oriental phlegm, the man could not keep his countenance. His eyes rolled,

until they threatened the drop out of his head, and he looked at herd with a certain amount of fear. Gore, said that gentleman, pointing to the sugar with the stem of his pipe, Gore. Hokar turned green under his dark skin, and half rose to go away, but his legs failed him, and he sat still trying to recover himself. So, you worship Bawani, went on his tormentor. The Indian's face expressed lively, curiosity, the great goddess. Yes, Kaylee, you know, did you make Tupani after you used your Rumal on Aaron Norman? Hokar gave a guttural cry and gasped. Tupini is a sacrifice made by the

thugs after a successful crime, and Rumal, the handkerchief with which they strangle their victims. All this was information called from Colonel Mettle Taylor's book by the accomplished detective. Well, said Hurd, smoking placidly, what have you to say, Mr. Hokar? I know nothing, said the man, sullenly, but in deadly fear. Yes, you do. Sit still, said Hurd, with sudden sternness. If you try to run away, I'll have you arrested. Eyes are on you, and you can't take a step without my knowing. Some of this was Greek to the Indian, owing to his imperfect knowledge of the world. of English, but he understood that the law would lay hold of him if he did not obey the

Sahib, and so sat still. I know not anything, he repeated, his teeth chattering. Yes, you do, you're a thug. Is there no thugs? I agree with you, said Hurd. You are the last of the Mohegan's. I want to know why you offered, Aaron Norman to Bawani. Hokar made a strange sign on his forehead at the mention of the sacred name, and muttered something, perhaps a prayer, in his native tongue. Then he looked up, I know nothing. Don't repeat that rubbish, said Hurd calmly. You sold bootlaces in the shop in Gwynne Street on the day when its master was killed,

and he was the husband of the lady who helped you, Mrs. Krill. You say that, said Hokar, stolidly. yes and i can prove it the boy tray and i can lay my hands on him saw you also bert tausie the shopman you left a handful of sugar though why you did so instead of eating it i can't understand hokar's face lighted up and he showed his teeth disdainfully oh you sahibs know nothing said he spreading out his lean brown hands the shop as yes i there is but i no use rumal not then but you did later hokar shook his head i use no ramal sat sahib one eye bad very bad buwani no have one eye no bahungis no bots no what are you talking about said herd angrily his reading had not told him that no maimed person could be offered to the goddess of the thugs bahonji meant sweepers and behat's bards both of which classes were spared by the stranglers you killed that man now who told you to kill him i know nothing i know kill buani no take one-eyed man's for want of an interpreter heard found it difficult to carry on the conversation he rose and determined to postpone further examination till he would get someone who understood the hindoo

tongue. But in the meantime, Hocar might run away, and Hurd rather regretted that he had been so precipitate. However, he nodded to the man and went off, pretty sure he would not fly at once. Then Hurd went to the village police office and told a bucolic constable to keep his eye on Miss Junk's furrener as he learned Holcar was called. The policeman, a smooth-faced individual, promised to do so after Herd produced his credentials and sauntered towards the red pig at some distance from the detective's heels. A timely question about the curry, revealed, by the mouth of Miss Junk, that Hokkaar was still in the kitchen, but he do seem alarmed like, said Matilda, lay in the cloth. Let's hope he won't spoil the curry, remarked Hurd. Then knowing Hokar was safe,

he went into the bar to make the acquaintance of his other victim. Captain Jarvie Jessup quite answered to the description given by Posh. He was large and sailor-like, with red hair mixed with gray and a red beard that scar scar running from temple to mouth. He had drunk enough to make him cheerful and was quite willing to fall into conversation with Hurd, who explained himself unnecessarily. i'm a commercial agent said the detective calling for two rums playing and i like talking me too growled the sailor grasping his glass i'm here in what you'd call a visit but i go back to my home to-morrow then it's ho for kai'all he shouted in his sing-song voice heard new the fierce old chanty and sized captain jarvey up at once he was of the buccaneer type and there was little

he would not do to make money and have a roaring time. Filling Hokar, with his deadly handkerchief, here was the man who might have killed Aaron Norman. Drink up, shouted Hurd, and his turn, we'll have some more. Oh, no condition is extradition, allowed in Kyle. Gung, said Captain Jessup, you know the chantee. Hurd winked. I've been round about in my time.

Jessop stretched out a huge chair. "'Put it there, mate,' said he, "'with a roar like a fog-horn. "'And drink up, along with me, my treat.' "'Heard nodded and became jovial. "'On condition, you join me at dinner. "'They make good curries here.' "'I've had curry,' said Captain Jessup heavily,

"'in Columbo and Hong Kong frequent. "'But Hokkar's curries are the best.' "'Ah,' said Hurd, "'in a friendly, curious way. "'So you know this shanty?' jessup looked at him with contempt know this shanty said he with a grin why in course i do i've been swinging my hammock here time in and out for the last thirty years you be a christchurch man then not me mate i'm buckinghamshire stowley born heard with difficulty suppressed a start stowley was the place where the all-important brooch had been pawned by a nautical man and here was the man in question i should have thought you lived near the sea he said cautiously say southampton oh i used to go there from my ship said the captain draining his glass but i don't go there no more

retired huh jessup nodded and looked at his friend as he considered heard since the invitation to dinner with a blood-shot pair of eyes come storm come calm he growled i've sailed the ocean for four forty years. Yes, sir. You bet? I was a slip of a fifteen cabin-boy on my first cruise, and then I got on to being skipper. Lord, Jessop smacked his knee the things I've seen. We'll have him to-night after dinner, said Hurd, nodding. But now, I suppose you've made your fortune. No, said the captain gloomily, not what you'd call money. I've got a stand-by, though, and he winked. ah married to a rich wife not me i've had enough of marriage having been the skipper of a mermaid with a tongue no sir he roared out another line of some song floating in his muzzy head a saucy bachelor am i then changed the gruff talk and i intends being won all my days stand by i have tain a wife but i can draw the money regular and no questions asked again again

he winked and drank another glass. Hurd reflected that perhaps Jessup had killed Aaron Norman for Mrs. Crill, and she was paying him blood money, but he did not dare to press the question, as Jessop was coming perilously near, what the Irish call the cross-drop. He therefore proposed an adjournment to the sitting-room. Jessop agreed, quite unsuspectingly,

not guessing he was being trapped. the man was so large and uncouth that herd felt behind his waist to see that his revolver was loose and could be used should the occasion arise miss junk brought in the dinner with her own fair hands and explained that hokar had made the curry but she didn't think it was as good as usual the man shaking like a jelly said matilda i don't know why the detective nodded but did not encourage conversation he was quite sure that hokar was being watched by the smooth-faced policeman and could not get away besides he wished to talk to captain jessup miss junk seeing that she was not needed retreated after bringing in the curry and left the gentlemen to help themselves so here was heard in a pleasant room seated before a well-spread table with a roaring and a roaring gentleman to help themselves so here was heard in a pleasant room seated before a well-spread table with a roaring fire at his back waiting his opportunity to make captain jarvey jessup confess his share in the duel murders of lady rachel sandal and aaron end of chapter nineteen chapter twenty of the opal serpent by fergus hume this librivox recording is in the public domain part of the truth captain jessup ate as greedily as he drank strong waters and did full justice to the curry which was really excellent

herd did not broach any unpleasant topic immediately as he wished the man to enjoy his meal if jessop was guilty this dainty dinner would be the last of its kind he would have for many a long day moreover hurd wished to learn more of the mariner's character and plied him with his own kind that he would have for many a long day moreover hurd wished to learn more of the mariner's character and plied him with his own questions which the unsuspecting sailor answered amiably enough. Me and you might become mates, as it were, said Jessup, extending his large hand again and again. Put it there. Well, we'd want to know something more about one another to become real mates, laughed heard. Oh, you're a commercial traveler, as you say, and I'm the captain of as fine a barquey as ever

sailed under Capricorn. least ways I was before I gave up deep sea voyages. You must miss the ocean, living in Stolley. Inland it is, admitted the mariner, pulling out a dirty clay pipe, at the conclusion of the meal. And ocean, there ain't round bout for miles, and I've got a shanty there, but live respectable. You are able to, with a standby, hinted herd. Jessup nodded, and crammed black tobacco, very strong and rank, into the bowl of his pipe with a shaking hand. It ain't much, he admitted, folks being stingy, but if I once more he struck the table hard, I can get it.

Do you see, Mr. Commercial? Yes, I see, replied Hurd, coolly. Jessop was again growing cross, and the detective had to be careful. He knew well enough that the next morning. when sober, Jessop would not be so disposed to talk. But, being mussy, he opened his heart freely. Still, it was evident

that a trifle more liquor would make him quarrelsome. So Hurd proposed coffee, a proposition to which the sailor graciously assented. Coffee, he observed, lighting his pipe, and filling the room with evil-smelling smoke, clears the head, not his mind-one-once-clearing, mind you, but coffee ain't bad when rum ain't to be had.

You'll have more rum later, hinted her. Put it there, said Jessup, and again the detective was forced to wince at the strong grip of a horny hand. Miss Junk appeared in answer to the tinkle of the bell and removed the food. Afterwards, she brought in coffee, hot and strong and black, and Jessop drank two cups with the result that he became quieter. then the two men settled down for a pleasant conversation at least jessup thought so for he frequently expressed the friendliest sentiments towards his host then matilda appeared with a bottle of rum a kettle and two glasses when she departed heard intimated that he would not require her services again that night this he whispered to her at the door while jessip was placing the kettle on the fire and before returning to his seat he quietly turned the key so he had the mariner entirely to himself and got the business at once while the kettle boiled

you have known this place for years i believe said hurd taken a chair opposite that of jessup did you ever drop across a man who used to live here called lemuel krill the other man started whatever makes you ask that he inquired in a husky voice well you see as a commercial i trade in books and had to do with a second-hand bookseller in gwynstreet drury lane it seems that he was murdered and he eyed jessop attentively the sailor nodded and composed himself with a violent effort yes said he in his husky voice so i heard but what's he got to do with lemuel krill oh said heard carelessly it is said aran norman was might have been i don't know myself was the gruff reply ah then you did not know lemuel krill well admitted to captain reluctantly i did he was the landlord of this here pub and a cuss the drink lord how he could drink and did so but he run away from his wife as used to keep this shanty and she never heard no more of him until she found he was rich and could leave her five thousand a year said herd absently so like a woman you seem to know all about it mister said the sailor uneasily yes i read the papers a queer case that of norman's death i expect it was only right he should be strangled seeing he killed lady racial sandal in the same way jessup resting his hands on the arms of his chair pushed it back and stared with a white face you know of that he gasped why not it was public talk in this place over twenty years ago i understand you have been hereabouts for thirty years when unheard carelessly possibly you may recollect the case

jessup wiped his forehead i heard something about it that there was a lady committed suicide they say i know what they say but i want to know what you say i won't be asked questions shouted the captain angrily Don't raise your voice, said the detective smoothly. We may as well conduct this conversation pleasantly. I don't converse no more, said Jessup in a shaky voice, and staggered to his feet, rapidly growing sober, under the influence of a deadly fear. Heard did not move as the man crossed the room, but felt if the key was safe in his pocket. The sailor tried to open the door and then realized that it was locked. He turned on his host with a volley of bad language

and found himself facing a leveled revolver. Sit down, said Hurd quietly. Go back to your chair. Jessop would staring eyes and outspread hands back to the wall. Who are you, anyhow, he demanded, hardly able to speak. Perhaps that will tell you, said Hurd, and threw the warrant on the table.

Jessop staggered forward and looked at it. one glance was sufficient to inform him what it was and he sank back into his chair with a groan leaving the warrant on the table hurd picked it up and slipped it into his pocket he thought jessup might destroy it but there was no fight in the mariner and now that we understand one another said hurd putting away his weapon i want to talk shan't talk said jessup savagely oh yes i think so otherwise i can make things unpleasant for you you can't arrest me i've done nothing that may be so but arrest you i can and i have done so now to-morrow you will go to london in charge of a plain-closed policeman while i go to stowley to my crib know i'm blessed if you do i shan't go immediately to your crib rejoined herd dryly though i may do so later my first visit will be to that old pawnbroker i think if i describe you and you are rather a noticeable man captain jessup he will recognize the individual who pawned an opal serpent brooch with him shortly after the death of lady rachel sandal to whom the said brooch belonged it's a lie said jessip hoarsely and sober enough now quite so and perhaps it is also a lie that a man resembling yourself tried to get certain jewelry from a lawyer called posh jessup lost his self-control which he was trying desperately to preserve and rose to his feet white-faced and haggard who are you he shouted who are you

doesn't the warrant tell you replied his companion not at all upset my name is billy hurd i am the detective in charge of the norman murder case and i've been looking for you for a long time mr jessup i know nothing about it yes you do so sit down and talk away i'll break your head cried the captain swinging his huge fist try hurd whipped out his revolver but did not rise at the risk of getting a bullet but did not rise at the risk of getting a bully it through you. Shaw, man, don't be a fool. I'm making things as easy for you as possible. Created a disturbance, and I'll hand you over to the police. A night in the village lockup may cool your blood. Sit down, I tell you.

The sailor showed his teeth like those of a starling dog and made as if to strike the seated detective. But suddenly changing his mind, for he saw well enough in what danger he stood. He dropped into his chair, and, covering his face with his hands, groaned aloud. Hurd put away his revolver. That's better, he said, pleasantly. Take a tote of rum and tell me all you know.

I'm innocent, groaned, Jessop. Every man is innocent until convicted by a jury, said Hurd, calmly. Consider me a jury, and I'll size up your case when I hear all. Are you innocent of both murders? lady rachel committed suicide said jessop raising a haggard face yes i stick to that sir has the krill's death in london i didn't touch him i swear i didn't but you saw him on that night how can you prove that very simple norman or krill if you prefer the old name took certain jewelry to posh for safe-keeping shortly before his death you presented to posh a paper undeniably written and signed by the old man saying that the jewelry was to be given up to the bearer now before taking the jewelry to posh krill could not have written that paper so you must have seen him during the few hours which he lapsed between his visit to posh and his death this was clearly argued and jessup could not contradict i left him quite well and hardy in the cellar and gwynne street yes in the cellar admitted jessop but-it he left him quite well and hardy in the cellar in gwynstreet yes in the cellar admitted jessip

at what time about half-past eight say between eight and nine well what happened asked herd smoking quietly the sailor twisted his big hands and groaned then he laid his head on the table and began the sob talking brokingly and huskily i'm done for he gasped i knowed it would come no i ain't sorry i've had a nightmare of a time oh since i pawned that brooch ah then you did pawn the brooch slowly jessop sat up and wiped his eyes yes i did but i pulled my cap down over my eyes and buttoned up my pea-jacket i never thought old tinker what had known me wasn't it rather rash of you to pawn the brooch in a place where you were well known i wasn't well known i only come at times and then i went away old tinker hadn't seen me more nor once or twice Then I pulled down my cap. Jessop, badly shaken, was beginning to tell the episode over again, when Hurd stopped him. See here, said the detective, you say that you are innocent? I swear that I am, gasped Jessop.

Well, then, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. My business is not to hang innocent people. Take a glass of rum and tell me all you know, beginning with your first meeting with Krill, and running down through the death of Lady Racial to your last meeting in the Gwynne Street cellar. And when you know all, then I'll see what is to be done. Will you arrest me? I have arrested you.

Don't make conditions with me, man, said Hurd, with a stern face. The night is growing late, and I want to get to the bottom of this business before we go to bed. Take some rum. Seeing that there was nothing for it but to make a clean breast, Captain Jarvie Jessup wasted no further time in useless lamentation. He could have smashed herd easily enough, even though there was the risk of being shot.

But the fracas would bring others on the scene, and Jessop knew he could not deal with the police. Therefore, he took a stiff peg and became quieter. In fact, when once started on his confession, he appeared to be rather relieved. It's been a nightmare, said he, wiping his forehead, I'm glad it's come to the law, that I am.

I met Krill, as he was then, some twenty-five years back by chance, as you may say. He cast a strange look at the detective, which the latter noted. Yes, by chance, Mr. Hurd. I found he'd kept the pub here, and this being no distance from Southampton, I took the running down here

when the barkey was at anchor. me and krill became great mates and i had what you might call free quarters here yes sir it's a frozen fact very generous of mr krill remarked her dryly and wondering what the man was keeping back oh he was right enough as a mate when not drunk but the liquor made him a howling dog i've seen many drunk in many places said jessup but anyone who held his liquor worse nor krill i never did see He'd knife you as soon as look at you when drunk. But he evidently preferred strangling. Hold on, mate, said Jessop, with another deep pull at the rum. I'm coming to that night. We was both on the bust, as you may say,

and Mrs. Crill she didn't like it, so she got the bed with a child. How old was the child? Maud. Oh, you might say she was thirteen or fifteen. I can't be sure of her age. What's up? for heard seeing in this omission a confirmation that maud was either not krill's child or was illegitimate could not inherit the money had showed his feelings however he made some trivial excuse not wishing to be too confidential and begged jessup to proceed

well mate said the captain filling another glass of rum you see the lady had come earlier and had been put to bed by the missus i never saw her myself being drinking in this very room along with krill but he saw her added jessip emphatically and said as she had a fine opal brooch which he wish he'd had has he wanted money and the missus kept him tight krill was a judge of jewels travelled in jewels once said the captain bless you he could size up a precious stone in no time but he sat drinking with me and every now and then got out of the room when he'd stop away for perhaps a quarter of an hour at a time did he mention the opal brooch again no said jessup after reflection he didn't but he got so drunk that he began to show fight as he always did when boozy though a timid chap when sober i concluded was she no row to get to my hammock and cut upstairs then i went by mistake into the room of that poor lady carrying a candle and saw her tied to the bed-post stone dead with a silk handkerchief round her neck i shouted out blue murder and mrs krill with a kid came tumbling down i was so feared added jessop wiping his forehead at the reddishop wiping his forehead at the wrecked recollection that I ran out of doors. What good would that do?

Lord, I don't know, confessed the man shivering, but I was scared out of my life. It was raining pitchforks, as you might say, and I raced on through the rain for an hour or so. Then I thought, as I was innocent, I'd make tracks back, and I did. I found Krill had cut. Did his wife tell you? Oh, she was laying on the floor insensible,

where he knocked her down. And the kid, Lord, Jessop spat, she was lying in the corner with her lips fastened together with a brooch. What, cried her, starting to his feet? The same as her, the same as Normans was? Chessop nodded and drank some rum. Made me sick it did.

I took the brooch away and slipped it into my pocket. Then the kid said, her father, had fastened her lips together and had knocked her mother flat when she interfered. I brought Mrs. Crill round, and then left her with a kid, and walked off to Southampton. The police found me there,

and I told them what I tell you. Did you tell about the brooch? Well, no, I didn't, confess Jessup coolly, and, as the kid and the mother said nothing, I didn't see why I shouldn't keep it, wanting money. So I went to Stolley and pawned it, then took a deep-sea voyage for a year when i come back all was over do you think krill murdered the woman asked herd passing over for the moment the fact that jessive had stolen the brooch he said he didn't rejoined the man with emphasis but i truly believe mister as he did one of them times when mad with drink and out of the room he wanted the brooch do you see though why he should have lost the loot by sealing the kid's mouth with it i can't see

say. When did you come across Krill again? Oh, said Jessop, drawing his hand across his mouth. "'Twas this way, do you see? I come round here, lots, and a swell come too. A cold?' Graftston Hay, said Hurd, pointing to the photograph. "'Yes, that's him,' said Jessop, staring, and I hated him, just, with his eyeglass at his staring ways. He loved the kid, now a grown fine gal, as you know, and come here often. In June, at the end of it, anyhow, he comes, and I hears him tell, Mrs. Crill, who was always looking for her husband, that a one-eyed bookseller in Gwynne Street, Drury Lane, had fainted when he saw the very

identical brooch showed him by another cove. "'Picot, I know. Did you wonder how the brooch had left the pawn-shop, as heard, very attentive?' No, I didn't snarl Jessop, who was growing cross. I knew old Tinker's assistant had sold the brooch, and he didn't ought to have done it, as I wanted it. Mrs. Crill asked me about the brooch, and wanted it, so I said I'd get it back. Tinker said it was gone, but wrote to the gent has bought it. Mr. Simon Becott of Wargrove and Essex?

That was him, but the gent wouldn't give it back, so I suppose he'd give it to. his son. Well, then, when Mrs. Crill heard of the one-eyed man fainting at sight of the brooch, she knew, twas her husband, as he had one eye, she having knocked the other out when he was sober. Did she go up and see him? Well, said Jessop slowly, I don't rightly know what she did do, but she went up. I don't think she saw Krill at his shop, but she might have seen that posh, who was Mr. Hayes' lawyer, and a dirty little ape of sorts he is. Ah, said Hurd to himself,

I thought Posh knew about the women beforehand. No wonder he stuck to them and gave poor Miss Norman the go-by. He rubbed his hands and chuckled. Well, we'll see what will come of the matter. Go on, Jessup. There ain't much more to tell, grumbled the captain. I heard of this, and I wasn't meant to hear.

But I thought I'd go up and see if I could get money out of Crill by saying, I'd tell about the murder of Lady Rachel. You are a scoundrel, said Hurd, coolly. I was hard up, apologized the captain, where I wouldn't, not me, I'm straight enough went in cash, so I went up in July. On the sixth of July? If that was the day of the murder, yes, I went up and loafed round until it was dark, and then slipped through that side passage at eight o'clock to see Crill. how did you know where to find him well that hay knew about the chap and said as he did business in the cellar after eight so krill let me in thinking i suppose i was a customer he'd been drinking a little and was bold enough but when i said as i'd say he killed lady racial he swore he was an innocent babe and cried the drink dying out of him

the same as it died out of you lately said herd smiling go slow grunted the captain in a surly tone i ain't afraid now as i ain't done nothin i said the krill i'd say nothing if he'd give me money he wouldn't but he said he placed a lot of pawn things with posh and i could have them then he gave me a paper saying i was to have the things and i went to posh the next morning and had trouble but i heard by chance again jessop cast a strange look at herd that krill had been murdered so i didn't wait for the lawyer to come back but cut down to southampton and went on a short voyage then i come here and you nabbed me and jessop finished his rum that's all i know do you swear you left erin norman alive meaning krill i do he wasn't no use to me dead and i made him give me the jewels posh had do you see but who warned you of the death when you were waiting jessup seemed unwilling to speak but when pressed out twas a measly little kid with ragged clothes and a dirty face tray said hurd hum i wonder how we knew of the murder before a very little kid twas a ragged clothes and a dirty face tray said herd i wonder how we knew of the murder before it got into the papers end of chapter twenty chapter twenty one of the opal serpent by fergus hume this librivox recording is in the public domain miss quinn's party herd's sister was a clever young woman who in her time had played many parts she began her career along with herd as a private detective but when her brother joined the official service miss heard thought she would better her position by appearing on the stage and therefore took the rather queer name of a roya

in her detective capacity she had often disguised herself when employed in obtaining evidence and was remarkably talented in changing her face and figure this art she used with great success in her new profession and speedily made her mark as an impersonator of various characters out of novels. As Becky Sharp, as little Dorrit. She was said to be inimitable. And after playing under several managements, she started, in the phrase of the profession a show of her own, and rapidly made money. But her great faults, amongst others, were vanity and extravagance. So she was always in need of money,

and when chance offered through her brother to make any she was not adverse to returning to the spy business thus it came about that she watched mr graxton hay for many a long day and night and he never suspected the pretty fluffy kittenish miss quion was in reality an emissary of the law consequently when aurora asked him to a card-party at her rooms hay accepted readily enough although he was not in need of money at the time miss queen occupied a tiny flat on the top of a huge pile of buildings in kensington and it was furnished in a gimcrack way with more show than real value and with more color than taste every room was of a different hue with furniture and hangings to match the drawing-room was pink the dining-room green her bedroom blue the entrance-hall yellow and the extra sleeping compartment used by her companion Miss Stably was draped in purple. Some wit called the flat the paint-box, and indeed so varied were its use that it was not a bad title to give it.

Like the Becky Sharp, whom she impersonated with such success, Miss Quinn possessed a sheep-dog, not because she needed one, being very well able to look after herself, but because it sounded and looked respectable. Miss Stabley, who filled this necessary, office was a dull old lady who dressed excessively badly and devoted her life to knitting shawes.

What she did with these when completed no one ever knew, but she was always to be found with two large wooden pins, rapidly weaving the fabric for some unknown back. She talked very little, and when she did speak, it was to agree with her sharp little mistress. To make up for speaking little she ate a great deal, and after dinner, with her eternal knitting in her bony hands and a novel on her lap, was entirely happy. She was one of those neutral-tinted people, who seemed not good enough for heaven and not sufficiently bad for the other place. Aurora often wondered what would become of Miss Stably when she departed this life, and left her knitting behind her. The old lady herself never gave the matter a thought,

but lived a respectable life of knitting and eating and novel reading, with a regular visit to the church on Sunday, where she worshipped without much idea of what the service was about. This sort of person exactly suited Miss Quyenne, who wanted a sheep-dog, who could neither bark nor bite, and who could be silent. These qualifications were possessed by the old lady, and for some years she had trailed through a rather giddy world

at Aurora's heels. In her own dull way, she was fond of the young woman, but was far from suspecting that Aurora was connected in an underhand manner with the law. That knowledge would indeed have shaken Miss Stably to the soul, as she had a wholly dread of the law, and always avoided the police court column when she read the newspapers. This was the old lady who sat in the pink drawing-room to play propriety for Miss Quinn. lord george sandel was present looking rather washed out but as gentlemanly as ever hay with his fixed eye-glass an eternally cold smile was there and a third young man who adored miss quayan thinking her to be merely an actress simpered across the card-table at his goddess the four were playing a game which involved the gaining and losing of much money and they had been engaged for about an hour miss stably having eaten a good dinner and commenced a new shaw was half dozing in the corner paying absolutely no attention to the players

it's a good thing we're hanging on our own hooks in this game said miss queon who smoked a dainty cigarette where i your partner sandal she always addressed her friends in this free and easy fashion i'd be losing money what luck you have i never do seem to win lamented lord george whenever i think i've got a good hand the thing pans out wrong hay has got all the money said the simpering admirer who answered to the name of tempest he and you miss queon are the winners i've made very little she replied hay's raking in the dollars hand over fist lucky in love unlucky at cards said hay who did not like his good fortune to be commented upon for reasons which miss quion knew it's the reverse with me i'm lucky at cards and lucky in love too interrupted aurora with a grimace seeing that you're going to marry that krill heiress if she is an heiress what do you mean asked hay who is dealing a new round go on with the game and don't ask questions said miss quion in a saucy manner sandal don't stare round but keep your eye on the cards and she winked stills. at the young lord, while Hay was exchanging a word with Tempest. The young man, who had spoken privately to her immediately before the dinner, knew well what she meant. Had Hay been likewise in the know,

he would scarcely have done what he didn't do, and which sandals saw him do in a few minutes. Haye was rapidly dealing, and the cards were flying like leaves. A pile of gold stood beside Hay's elbow, and some silver near Tempest. The game commenced, and soon the players were engrossed, heedless of the patent snoring of Miss Stably, who, poor old thing, has succumbed to the lateness of the hour. Suddenly Lord George, who had been very vigilant, felt his foot touched under the table by Miss Quinn. He rose at once and snatched up the gold standing near Hay. "'What's that for?' demanded Hay angrily.

"'You're cheating,' said Sandel, "'and I don't play with you any more.' that's a lie i did not cheat yes you did cried miss quayin bending forward and seizing the cards we've been watching you tempest i saw it all right said the other you took up that king and it's marked said aurora i believe hay's got cards up his sleeve examine the cards hay very pale but still keeping his countenance tried to object but the two young men seized and held him while miss Miss Quyenne, with a dexterity acquired in detective circles, rapidly searched his pockets. Here's another pack, she cried, and shook an ace in two kings out of the detected swindler's sleeve. And these cards, Sandel took one, and went to the lamp. Marked by Jove, he cried, but with a stronger oath.

Here's a pinprick. You are mistaken, began, hey, quite pale. No, said Tempus coolly, we're not. "'Miss Quinn told us you cheated, and we laid a trap for you. "'You've been trying this double card and marked card dodge "'several times this very evening.' "'And he tried it lots of times before,' said Aurora quickly. "'I have been at several places where Hay scooped at the pool,

"'and it was all cheating.' "'If it was, said Hay, with quivering lips, "'why didn't you denounce me then and there?' "'Because I denounce you now,' she said. "'You're cooked, my man.' these boys will see that the matter is made public by jove yes cried sandal with a look of abhorrence at hay and i'll prosecute you to get back those thousands you won off me i never did you've been rooking this boy for months cried miss gleeon here tempest get a constable who'll give him in charge for swindling no no cried hay his nerve giving way under the threatened exposure you'll have your money back sandal, I swear.

Lord George to you now, you blackered, and how can you pay me the money when I know you haven't got a cent? He intends to get it from the heiress, sniggered Aurora. Oh, dear me, rose the plaintive voice of the sheep-dog. What is it, Aurora, anything wrong? We've caught A cheating, that's all, and the police. Oh, Aurora, don't bring up the police. No, don't, said Hay, who is now trembling.

I'll do whatever you'd like. Don't show me up. I'm... I'm going to be married soon. No, you shan't marry, cried Tempis sharply. I'll see this girl myself and save her from you. You can't prove that I cheat it, said Hay, desperately. Yes, we can, said George.

I and Miss Quyenne and Tempest all saw you cheat, and Miss Quyenne has the marked cards. But don't expose me. I... Haye broke down and turned to one. with the look of despair on his face. He cursed himself inwardly, for having ventured to cheat when things, by the marriage with Maude Crill, would have soon been all right for him. Miss Quine, cried in a tone of agony, give me another chance.

Aurora, playing her own game, of which the two young men were ignorant, appeared to repent. She beckoned to Miss Stably. Take Mr. Hay into the dining-room, she said, and I'll see what I can do, but you try and bolt, hey, and the news will be all over the West End tomorrow. I'll stop, said Hay, whose face was colorless, and, without another word, he followed the sheep-dog into the dining-room, in an agony of mind, better imagined than described. Then Miss Quinn turned her attention to her guests. "'See here, boys,' she said frankly, "'this is a dirty business, and I don't want to be

mixed up with it. But hey should be exposed, insisted Sandel. He's been rooking me, I do believe, for months. Serve you jolly, well right, said Aurora heartlessly. I warns you again and again against him. But if there's a row, where do I come in? It won't hurt you, said Tempest eagerly. Oh, won't it?

Gambling in my flat and all the rest of it? You boys may think me free and easy, but I'm straight. No one can say a word against me. I'm not going to be made out an adventurous and a bad woman for the sake of that swindler hay. So you boys will just hold your tongues. No, said Sandel, my money? Oh, bother your money. One would think you were a Jew.

I'll see that hay pays it back. He's going to marry this krill girl, and she's able to supply the cash. But the girl shouldn't be allowed to marry, Hay, said Tempest. don't you burn your fingers with other people's fire said aurora sharply the girl's in love with him and will marry him in spite of everything but i don't care a cent for that it's myself i'm thinking of if i get your money back sandal will you hold your tongue lord george thinking of what his noble father would say or he involved in a card scandal connected with an actress thought it just as well to agree yes he said hesitatingly I'll not say a word if you get the money back. But don't you let Hay speak to me again in public, or I'll kick him. That's your affair and his, said Aurora, delighted, at having gained her point.

But you hold your tongue, and you, tempest? I'll not say a word either, said the young man with a shrug, though I don't see why you should save this blackguard's reputation. It's my own I'm thinking of, so don't you make any mistakes, and now I have both your promises. Yes, said Sandal and Tempest, thinking it best, to hush the matter up. But, hey, I'll see to him.

You two boys clear out and go home to bed. But we can't leave you alone with Hay, said Tempest. I'll not be alone with him, cried the little woman, imperiously. My companion is with me. What do you mean? He might do you some harm. Oh, mighty! You take me for a considerable idiot,

I suppose. You get along, boys, and leave me to fix things up. Both young men protested again, but Aurora, anxious for her conversation with Hay, bundled them out of the flat, and banged the door, too, when she heard them whistling below for a handsome. Then she went to the dining-room. You come along to the dining-room, she said to Hay. Miss Stably, stop here. I haven't got my Shaw, bleated the old lady. Oh, bother. Aurora ran to the other room and snatched up the Shaw and saw Miss Stably sitting down the knit while she led Hay back into the drawing-room. He looked round when he entered. Where are they, he asked, sitting down? Gone, but it's all right. I've made them promise not to say. Graftston Hay didn't let her finish. He fell on his knees and kissed

her hand. His face was perfectly white. but his eyes were full of gratitude as he babbled his thanks. No one could have accused him of being cold then, but Miss Quyenne did not approve of this emotion, natural though it was. "'Here, get up,' she said, snatching her hand away. "'I've got to speak straight to you. I've done a heap for you.

Now you've got to do a heap for me.' "'Anything, anything,' said, hey, whose face was recovering its normal color. You have saved me. You have. As much of a thing you are to save, you'll be cheating again in a week or so. No, cried Hay, emphatically, I swear. I'll not touch a card again. I'll marry Maud and turn respectable. Oh, what a lesson I've had.

You are sure those fellows won't speak? No, that's all right. You can go on swindling as before, only. Miss Quinn raised a finger. You'll have to pay sandal back. some cash. I'll do that. Maud will lend me the money. Does he want all? Oh, a couple of thousand will shut his mouth. I'll not see you left. It's all right, so sit up and don't shake there like a jelly. You're very kind to me, said hey, faintly. Don't you make any mistake, so far as I'm concerned, you might stick in the mud forever. I helped you, because I want you to help me. I'm in want of money. I'll give you something.

come. Picked from that girl's pocket, said Aurora dryly. No, thank you. It might dirty my fingers. Listen, there's a reward offered for the discovery of the murderer of Aaron Norman. I want to get that thousand pounds, and you can help me, too. Hey, he started to his feet with amazement. Of all the requests she was likely to make, he never thought it would be such a one. Aaron Norman's murder, he said. What do you know of that? Very little, but you know a lot.

I don't, I swear I don't. Pish said Miss Quinn, imperiously. Remember, I've got the whip-hand, my boy. Just you tell me how Mrs. Krill came to strangle the— Mrs. Krill? Hay turned white again, and his eyeglass fell. She had nothing to do with the matter, I swear. Strikes me you swear too much, Mr. Hay.

What about that opal brooch she stowed from Beacott when he had the smash? I didn't steal it. I never saw it at the time of the accident. Then you got that boy tray to steal it. I know nothing about the boy. Besides, why should I steal that opal serpent brooch? You wanted to buy it from Beacott, anyhow? Hey, look puzzled.

Yes, for a lady. Mrs. Krill? I admit that Mrs. Krill wanted it. She had associations connected with that brooch. I know, interrupted Aurora, glancing at the clock. don't waste time in talking of lady racial sandals death how do you know about that stammered hay completely nonplussed i know a mighty lot of things i may as well tell you added miss quinn coolly since you daren't split that i've got a lot to do with a secret detective service business i'm helping another to hunt out evidence for this case and i guess you know a lot the man quailed he knew that he did not stand well with the police and dreaded what this little fluffy woman should do aurora read his thoughts yes she said we know a heap about you at the scotland yard office

and if you don't tell me all you know i'll make things hot for you this cheating to-night is only one thing i know you are a man on the market mr hay what do you wish to hear asked hay collapsing all about mrs krill's connection with this murder she has nothing to do with it really she hasn't aaron norman was her husband right enough and he ran away from her over twenty years ago but who told mrs krill about him i did confessed hay volubly and seeing it was best for him to make a clean breast of it i met the krill three years ago when i was in bournemouth They lived in Christchurch, you know. Yes, hotel keepers. Well, what then? I fell in love with Maude and went to Christchurch to stop at the Red Pig. She loved me, and in a year we became engaged.

But I had no money to marry her, and she had none either. Then Mrs. Krill told me of her husband and of the death of Lady Racial. Murder or suicide? Suicide, Mrs. Krill said, replied, hey, frankly. she told me also about the opal brooch and described it. I met Beacott by chance and greeted him as an old-school fellow. He took me to his attic, and to my surprise, showed me the opal brooch. I wanted to buy it for Mrs. Crill, but Beacott would not sell it.

When next I met him, he told me that Aaron Norman had fainted when he saw the brooch. I thought this odd, and informed Mrs. Crill. She described the man to me, and especially said, that he had but one eye. I went with Beacot to the Wind Street shop, and a single glance told me that Aaron Norman was Lemuel Krill. I told his wife, and she wanted to come up at once, but I knew that Aaron was reported rich, which I had heard through Posh, and as he was my lawyer, I suggested that the Krills should go and see him. which they did before the murder. Yes, Posh was astonished, and when he heard that Mrs. Crill was a real wife,

he saw that Aaron Norman, as he called himself, had committed bigamy and that Sylvia. Yes, you needn't say it, said Miss Queen angrily. She's worth a dozen of that girl you are going to marry. But why did you pretend to meet Mrs. Crill and her daughter for the first time at Posh's? to blind Beacott. We were standing at the door when the two came out, and I pretended to see them for the first time. Then I told Becott that I had been introduced to Maud at Pasha's office.

He's a clever chap, Beacot, and being engaged to Sylvia Norman, I thought he might find out too much. About the murder? He rose and looked solemn. I swear I know nothing of that, he said decidedly, and the krills were. were astonished as I, when they heard of the death. They were going to see him, by posh's advice, and Mrs. Crill was going to prosecute him for bigamy, unless he allowed her a good income. Death put an end to all that, so she made up the story of seeing the handbills, and then,

of course, the will gave the money to Maude, who was engaged to me. The will, or what was called a will, gave the money to Sylvia, said Aurora emphatically, but this brooch, you didn't take it? No, I swear I didn't. Mrs. Krill wanted it, but I never knew it was of any particular importance. Certainly, I would never have risked robbing Beacot, and I never told that boy Trey to rob him either.

Then who took the brooch? I can't say. I've told you all I know. Hmm, said Aurora, just like her brother. That will do tonight, but if I ask you any more questions, you'll have to answer. answer, so now you can go. By the way, I suppose the brooch made you stick to be caught. Yes, said Hay, frankly. He was of no use to me. But while he had the brooch, I stuck to him

to get it for Mrs. Krill. Queer, said Aurora, I wonder why she wanted it so much. But this question, Hay was unable to answer. End of Chapter 21. Chapter 22 of the Opal Serpent by Fergus Hume This Libravox recording is in the public domain. Further evidence. After all, Heard did not send Jess up to town as he threatened to do. Evidently the captain had told him all he knew,

and appeared to be innocent of Crill's death. But, in spite of his apparent frankness, the detective had an idea that something was being kept back. and what that something might be he determined to find out however his thoughts were turned in another direction by a note from becott addressed to him at the red pig asking him to come at once to the jubilee town laundry i believe we have discovered the person who stole the opal brooch from me wrote paul and deborah has made a discovery connected with norman which may prove to be of service wondering what the discovery might be and wondering also who had taken the brooch heard a range that jessop and hokar should remain at christ church under the eyes of two plain-clothes officials These managed their duties so dexterously that Matilda junk was far from guessing what was going on. Moreover, she informed the detective, who she thought was a commercial gent,

that she intended to pay a visit to her sister, Mrs. Tauzy, and demanded the address which heard gave readily enough. He thought that if Matilda knew anything, such as the absence of Mrs. Crill from the hotel, during the early part of July, Deborah might induce her to talk freely. Hokar had proved a difficult subject. Whether he was too grateful to Mrs. Krill to speak out, or whether he really did not understand what was asked of him, he certainly showed a talent for holding his tongue. However, Hurd saw well enough that the man was afraid of the Sahib's law,

and when matters came to a crisis, would try and prove, his innocence even at the cost of implicating others. Therefore, with an easy mind, the detective left these two witnesses being watched at Christ's church and repaired the town where Aurora informed him of the interview with Hay. Billy approved of the way in which his sister had managed matters. I guessed that Hay was the man who put Mrs. Krill on the track of her husband, he said, with satisfaction, but I wasn't quite sure how to be. he spotted the man. Oh, the one I identified him, said Aurora, who was eating chocolate as usual, and Norman's

fainting at the sight of the brooch confirmed Hay's belief as to who he was. I wonder he didn't make a bargain with Norman on his own. Hurd shook his head. It wouldn't have paid so well, said he, wisely. Norman would have parted with only a small sum, whereas this murder will bring Hay it clear 5,000 a year when he marries the girl. Hay acted cleverly enough.

But I tell you, Hay has nothing to do with a murder. That may be so, though I don't trust him. But Mrs. Krill might have strangled her husband so as to get the money. What makes you think she did? asked Aurora, doubtfully.

Well, you see, from what Chessop says, Mrs. Krill, is devotedly attached to Maude, and she may have been anxious to revenge her daughter on krill. He acted like a brute and fastened the child's lips together, so Mrs. Crill treated him in the same way. Hmm, said Miss Quyenne reflectively, but can you prove that Mrs. Crill was in town on the night of the murder?

That's what I'm going to find out, said Hurd. All you have to do is to keep your eyes on hay. Oh, he won't cut, if that's what you mean. He thinks everything is square, now that I've got those boys to stop chattering. He'll marry Maud and annex the money. He may marry Maud, said Heard, emphatically, but he certainly won't get the $5,000 a year. Miss Norman will. Hold on, cried Aurora, shrewdly. Maud may not be Lemuel Krill's child, or she may have been born before Krill married the mother, but in any case, Sylvia Norman isn't the child of a legal marriage. Krill certainly committed bigamy, so he'll be able to be a mother, so he'll be born and his daughter Sylvia can't inherit.

Well, said Hurd, I can't say I'll see posh about the matter. After all, the will left the money to my daughter, and that Sylvia is, beyond doubt, whatever maud may be. And I say, Aurora, just you go down to Stolley in Buckinghamshire, I haven't time to look in the matters there myself. What do you want me to do there? Find out all about the life of Mrs. Krill before she married Krill and came to Christ's church. She's the daughter of a farmer.

You'll find the name in this. Herd passed along a copy of the marriage certificate which Mrs. Krill had given to Posh. Anne Tyler is her maiden name. Find out what you can. She was married to Krill at Beach Hill, Bucks. Miss Quinn took the copy of the certificate and departed, grumbling at the amount of work she had to do to earn her share of the reward. Heard on his part took the underground train to Liverpool Street Station and then

traveled to Jubilee Town. He arrived there at twelve o'clock and was greeted by Paul. I've been watching for you all mornings, said Beacott, who looked flush and eager. Sylvia and I have made such a discovery. Heard nodded good-humoredly, as he entered the house and shook hands with a girl. Miss Norman has been doing some detective business on her own account, he said, smiling. Hello, who's this? He made this remark, because Mrs. Purr, sitting in a corner of the room with red eyes, rose, and drop a curtsey.

I'm called to tell you what I do tell on my Bible oath, said Mrs. Perr with fervor. Mrs. Perr can give some valuable evidence, said Paul, quickly. oh can she then i'll hear what she has to say later first i must clear the ground by telling you and miss norman what i have discovered at christ's church so mrs purr rather unwillingly for she felt the importance of her position was bundled out of the room and heard sat down to relate his late adventures this he did clearly and slowly and was interrupted frequently by exclamations of his late adventures this he did clearly and slowly and was interrupted frequently by exclamations of his own astonishment from his two hearers. So there, said the detective, when finishing, you have the beginning of the end. Then you think that Mrs. Krill killed her husband, asked Paul, dubiously. I can't say for certain, was the cautious reply, but I think so, on the face of the

evidence which you have heard. What do you say? Don't say anything, said Sylvia, before Paul could reply. Mr. Hurd had better read this paper. It was found by Deborah in an old box belonging to my father, which was brought from Wind Street. She gave the detective several sheets of blue foolscap, pinned together, and closely written in the shaky handwriting of Aaron Norman.

Hurd looked at it rather dubiously. What is it? he asked. The paper referred to in that unfinished scrap of writing, which was discovered behind the safe, explained Paul. Norman evidently wrote it out and placed it in his pocket. Where he forgot it. Deborah found it in an old coat, she discovered, in a box of clothes brought from Wind Street.

They were Norman's clothes and his box, and should have been left behind. Debbie won't hear of that, said Sylvia, laughing. She says Mrs. Krill has got quite enough, and she took all she could. what's all this writing about asked herd turning over the closely written sheets to save time you had better give me a precise of the matter is it important very i should say responded paul emphatically it contains an account of norman's life from the time he left christ's church hume hurd's eyes brightened i'll read it at my leisure but at the present moment you might say what you can Well, you know a good deal of it, said Paul, who did the talking, had a sign from Sylvia.

It seems that Norman, we'd better stick to the old name, left Christ's church because he's afraid of being accused of murdering Lady Racial. Was she really murdered? Norman doesn't say. He swears he knows nothing about the matter. The first intimation he had was when Jessop came down with the news after blundering into the bedroom but he hints that Mrs. Crill killed her. Can he prove that? No, he can't give any proof, or at all events he doesn't. He declares that when his wife and daughter, oh, does he call

maud his daughter? Yes, we can talk of that later, said Paul impatiently. Well then, Norman says, he went fairly mad. Jessop had bolted, but Norman knew he would not give the alarm. since he might be accused himself of killing lady racial maud who had seen the body wanted to run out and call the neighbors how old does norman say she was about fifteen quite old enough to make things unpleasant then she can't inherit the money said herd decisively no cried peacock quickly both sylvia and i think so but to go on with norman's confession he would not let maud go she began to scream and he feared least she should alarm the neighbors he tied a handkerchief across her lips but she got free and again began to scream then he cruelly fastened her lips together with the opal brooch where did he get that if innocent he declared that he spied it on the floor of the sitting-room near his wife's feet and then hints that she strangled lady rachel to get it and turn it into money as she was desperately in need of cash for maud. Mrs. Crill idolized a child.

I know that, snapped her. Go on. When Norman fastened the child's lips together, Mrs. Crill threw herself at him in a rage. He knocked her insensible and then ran away. He walked through the night until at dawn he came to a distant railway station. There he took a ticket and went to London. He concealed himself until there was no chance of his being discovered, and besides, saw the verdict of the jury in the newspapers, but he was determined he would not go back to his wife because she threatened him. In what way?

Ah, said Paul, while Sylvia shuddered, in a strange way, when he fastened the child's lips together, Mrs. Krill said that she would do the same to him one day and with the same person. brooch. Hurd uttered an exclamation. So that was why she wanted the brooch so much, he exclaimed eagerly. Yes, and she told Hay she wanted it, though she did not reveal her reason. She said if she got the brooch, he would be allowed to marry Maude, with whom Hay was deeply in love. Hay stumbled across me by accident, and I happened to have the brooch, the rest you know.

No, said Hurd, I don't know, how the brooch came into the possession of Mrs. Crill again to use in the cruel way she threatened. Well, said Sylvia quickly, we aren't sure if Mrs. Crill did get the brooch. The evidence is against her, said Hurd, remember the threat? Yes, but wait to you here, Mrs. Purr, said Paul. But just a moment, Hurd, you must learn how Norman laid the foundations of his fortune. Ah, I forgot. Well, and the detective settled himself to listen further.

He was hard up and almost starving for a long time after he came to London, explained Paul. Then he got a post in a second-hand bookshop kept by a man named Gardner in the minorities. He had a daughter, Lillian. My mother put in Sylvia softly. Yes, went on Beacott quickly, and this girl, being lonely, fell in love with Norman, as he now called himself.

He wasn't an attractive man with his one eye, so it is hard to say how Miss Garner came to love him, but she married him in the end. You'll find everything explained at length in the paper we gave you. Then old Garner died, and Lillian inherited a considerable sum of money, together with the stock. her husband removed the books to gwynne street and started business but with the money he began the trade in jewels and you know how he got on that's all plain enough said hurd putting the confession of norman into his pocket i suppose a man dread at least his first wife should turn up yes and that's why he fainted when he saw the brooch not knowing that jessip had removed it from maud's mouth and pawned it i'm not so sure of that said heard quickly bart overheard him talking of stowley and the pawnbroker there well said paul with a shrug he says nothing about it in the confession perhaps he did trace the brooch to the stoly shop but if so i wonder he did not get it seeing he wanted it but when he saw it in my possession he thought i might know of mrs krill and might put her on the track hence his fainting

later he learned how i became possessed of it and tried to buy it then came the accident and i really believed for a time that hay had stolen it aurora says he swore he did not and he didn't said paul going to the door mrs purr you don't mean to say that old woman priged it asked her no but she warned me against that boy tray on the day deborah was married later i asked her what she meant and she then told me that she had learned from tray's grandmother a drunken old thief how the boy brought home the opal brooch and-here mrs purr who had entered and was dropping curtsies to the majesty of the law as represented by herd thought an undue advantage was being taken of her position she wished to talk herself and interrupted paul in a shrill voice granny clump she is said mrs purr folding her hands under her apron tray's grandmother as is name is tray clump i swear on my bible oath a wicked old woman as is famous for drink i've heard of her said the detective remembering she's been up heaps of times and grows no better wailed mrs purr bilbiously for she had been strengthening herself for the interview with frequent libations of gin oh what a thing strong drink is sir but granny clump being ill with the lungs and me being helpful in such cases having been a nurse when young and i won't deceive you by denying called on me to be a good samaritan and i was though she swore awful saying she wanted gin and jellies and could have had them if that limb

so did she name tray gentlemen both had only handed to her the rich brooch he brought home just before he went to earn a decent living at the law office which his name is pa said hurd thoughtfully i'll see the boy you can see him now said becott unexpectedly when i learned this from mrs purr and knew you were coming i sent a message to paush's office for the boy he came up quite unsuspectingly but he refused to speak i shut him up in a back room and deborah has been watching him and the language of that blessed limb exclaimed mrs purr raising her hands bring em in said hurd miss norman if the boy uses bad language you needn't stay sylvia having heard what tray could do in this way needed no further hint she left the room gladly she left the room gladly and told Deborah to bring along her prisoner. Shortly, the noise of kicking and strong language was heard coming nearer, and Deborah, with a red face and a firm mouth, appeared at the door, holding aloft a small boy,

who was black in the face with rage. There, said Deborah, flinging tray in a heap at the detective's feet, if me and Bart have such a brat, I hope he dies in his cradle, instead of growing to a gallows thief in the use of words which makes me shudder let alone my pretty ugh she shook her fist at tray you old bailey viper though young at that here said tray rising much dishevelled but with a white face let me go i'll have the law on you i'll attend to that my lad said her dryly now then where did you get that brooch shan't tell snapped the boy and put his tongue out hurd gave him a smack with an open hand on the side of his face and master clump began the blubber assaulting me oh won't you catch it he raged in his puny wrath my master's a law cove and he'll have you up before the beak you answer my question said hurd sternly or you'll get another clout you know who i am well enough make a clean breast of it, you imp, or I'll lock you up.

If I made a clean breast, will you let me cut? asked Trey, beginning the whimper, but with a cunning gleam in his eyes. I'll see when I know what you have to say. Trey looked around the room to see if there was any way of escape, but Paul guarded the closed windows, and Deborah, itching the box's ears, stood before the door. before him was the stern-faced detective with whom Trey knew well enough he dare not trifle. Under these circumstances he made the best of a bad job and told what he knew, although he interpolated his threats all the time.

What do you want with me, he demanded sulkily. Where did you find that brooch? I prigged it from Mr. B.cott's pocket when he was smashed. Did Mr. Hay tell you to steal it? No, he didn't. Then how did you know the brooch was in my pocket? asked Paul. I was dodging round the shops, snapped Tray, and I heard Mr. Norman and Mr. Beacott a-talking of the brooch.

Mr. Beacott said he had the brooch in his pocket. Yes, I certainly did, said Paul, remembering the conversation. Well, when the smash come, I dodged in and prigged it. t'was easy enough ren trey for i felt in his breast pocket and collared it i wanted to guv it to the old man thinking he'd pay for it as he said he would but after the smash i went home to gran and hid the brooch when i was looking at it at night i saw her and looking at it and she grabbed it i cut away with my own property not wishing to be robbed by the old gal what did you do then tray wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve i heard that mr norman was dead yes and you told jessup so in the office how did you know cause i went to the shop in the morning to sell the brooch to the old man he was a goner so i cut to mr posh who was his lawyer and said i'd sell him the brooch what cried heard rising you gave the brooch to mr yes he said he'd give me up for stealing and wouldn't give me even a bob for it but he said i'd be his new office-boy i thought i'd be respectable so i went

and now ended master clump in a sullen matter you knows all and i ain't done nothin so i'm off deborah caught him by the tail of his jacket as he made a dart at the door and swung him into the middle of the room heard laid hands on him you come along with me he said i'll confront you with posh tray gave a howl of terror he'll kill me he shouted as he killed the old cove yes he did it posh did it and he howled again end of chapter twenty two chapter twenty three of the opal serpent by fergus hume this librivox recording is in the public domain what posh said in a smoking compartment which the three had to themselves heard resumed his examination of tray they were now on their way to liverpool street and thence the detective intended to convey the boy to posh's office in chancery lane paul sat in one corner much excited over the turn events had taken he began to think that the assassin of aaron norman would be found after all more he believed that sylvia would yet inherit the five thousand a year she was entitled to morally if not legally hurd in another corner pulled tray roughly towards him and shook his finger in the lad's face the boy was sulky and defiant yet there was a trace of fear in his eyes and the reason of this hurd wished to learn you're a young liar said hurd emphatically and not a clever one either do you think to play the fool with me i told you all straight grumbled tray no you haven't anyone can see that you've made a mistake i leave it to mr beecott yonder

i was about to draw your attention to the mistake said paul you mean the discrepancy in time master clump started and became more sulky than ever he cast down his cunning eyes and shuffled with his feet while herd lectured him you know well enough said the detective sharply that the brooch was boned by you on the very evening when the murder took place it was then that mr becott met with his accident therefore you could not have given the brooch to mr posh the next morning as it had been used on the previous night shan't say anything more retorted tray defiantly oh won't you cried hurd ironically we'll see about that you told that lie about the time to account for your knowing of the murder before any one else did no said tray decidedly i did i did go to the first you told that lie about the time to account for your knowing of the murder before any one else did no said tray decidedly i did go to the shop in the morning that you may have done but not to sell the brooch mr posh had taken it from you on the previous night he didn't denied the boy then in that case you've told a lie posh never had the brooch and has nothing to do with the murderer he did prig the brooch from me and he did kill the old cove well we'll see what mr posh will say when you accuse em said hurd but i don't believe one word of it it's my opinion that you gave that brooch to a third party on the same evening as you stole it now then who did you give it to mr posh persisted trey on the same evening there was no reply to this tray set his lips firmly and refused to speak heard shook an admonitory finger again

You can't play fast and loose with me, my lad, he said grimly. If you didn't part with that brooch, you must be mixed up in the crime yourself. Perhaps you pin that poor wrench his mouth together. It's just a sort of cruel thing a young cane like you would do. I didn't, said Master Crump, doggedly. You take me to Master, and I'll tell him what I tells you. He's the one. Hurd shook the boy to make him to take him to him.

talk more, but Trey simply threw himself on the floor of the carriage and howled. The detective, therefore, picked him up and flung him into a corner. You stop there, you little ruffian, he said, seriously annoyed at the boy's recalcitrance. We'll speak again when we are in Mr. Posh's office. So Trey curled up on the cushion, looked savagely at the detective, and held his tongue. What do you think will be the end of all this? asked Paul. when master clump was thus disposed of lord knows replied hurd wiping his face i never had a harder case to deal with i thought hey had a hand in it but it seems he hadn't bad lot as he is asking your pardon mr beecott since you're his friend that i am not disclaimed beecot emphatically there's a young lawyer i know ford is his name i went to see him as to what chances sylvia has been to see him as to what chances sylvia

had of getting the money he was at school with me and remembered hay he said that hay was dismissed from torrington's school for stealing didn't you know that yourself no i had left the school i was ill at home with scarlet fever but hay apparently always had been a bad lot he and that krill pair are well matched for i believe the mother is bad even if the daughter maud isn't by the way her age herod nodded i believe she was fifteen at the time of the death of lady rachel if so she can't be legitimate or maybe not be the daughter of aaron norman however i asked my sister to look up mrs krill's past life in stowley where she comes from but she wasn't married to krill at stowley no but she lived there as anne tyler from the certificate she was married to krill at a small parish church twenty miles from stowley so aurora will go there but i want her to stop at stowley first and learn all she can about anne tyler beach hill's the name of the parish in which she was married to krill before she came to christ church said paul musingly so i expect they lived there miss quinn might search also for the certificate of maud krill's birth i told her to and failing that she's the search in christ's church we must get the certificate of birth somehow heard said paul rather diffidently i hope you won't be annoyed but i have already asked my friend ford to give notice to posh to produce their certificate well replied the detective you might have told me but no great harm is done what does posh say i don't know ford has not let me know yet here we are

this remark was caused by the stopping of the train at liverpool street station a number of people were returning from their employment in the city to the country and the platforms were crowded heard grasped master clump by the arm and marched him along but in the confusion of finding his ticket at the barrier he happened to let go almost without thinking in a moment tray had darted through the barrier and was lost in the crowd herd sprang after him and left paul to explain he hurriedly did so and then went out to see if the detective had caught the boy herd was nowhere to be seen neither was tray the crowd was increasingly thick and beecot was at a loss what to do after waiting for an hour without finding the pair he thought he would go to posh's office it might be that herd having caught tray would take him there at once leaving beacott to follow so paul got on to the metropolitan railway and alighted at the temple station thence he walked up to the office in chancery lane where's tray asked paul of the one clerk in the outer room who was writing for dear life i don't know sir said the clerk he went out this morning and hasn't been back all day mr posh is very angry with him apparently heard and not caught the boy yet or if he had did not intend to bring him to the office can i see mr posh asked paul thinking he might as well make some use of his time the clerk inquired if the solicitor would see beecot and presently ushered him into the inner room where posh sat looking more like a monkey than ever he did not appear at all pleased to see the young man and sucked in his cheek with a crabbed air

well mr peacock what can i do for you he snarled you might be civil in the first place said paul quietly taken a chair you haven't behaved well to miss norman and me oh said posh coolly have you come to reproach me with that i never waste time rejoined paul equally coolly i'll leave you to your conscience posh shrugged his shoulders and put his feet on the rungs of his chair i think my conscience can stand that he said it's business mr becott business by the way i have received a request from mr ford of cheapside to produce the certificate of birth of miss krill what is the meaning of that i think you know very well mr posh i professed my ignorance said posh ironically although he looked uneasy and was apparently lying in that case you had better wait until you hear from mr ford are you employing mr ford may i ask paul nodded on behalf of miss norman he said coldly ah sneered the monkey you think you'll get the money wait till you hear from mr ford retorted paul again and enjoyed the baffled expression on mr posh's wrinkled face by the way sir why did you not tell hurd that trey gave you the opal brooch posh turn all the colours of the rainbow does that brat i took into my office out of charity dare to say that he did he does and what is more mr hurd is bringing him here to make the statement face to face with you. I am determined to get to the bottom of this case, sir, for Miss Norman's

sake, and the possession of the brooch forms an important link. How so? The person who had that brooch on the evening of the 6th of July murdered Norman, said Paul calmly. Posh jumped up and chattered like a baboon in a rage. Do you mean to accuse me, he demanded. Take care, take care. I don't accuse you. Trey does. It's a lie, a lie. Don't excite yourself, Mr. Posh. You'll need all your wits to convince Hurd. Trey accuses you, and Hurd suspects you. I have nothing to do with the matter. You put Hurd up to this, formed Posh, hardly able to speak.

Pardon me, Hurd is working for the reward offered by your client. Don't you think it was rather foolish of her to offer such a large reward, Mr. Posh? even though she did so to avert suspicion the solicitor changed color again i don't understand you paul shrugged his shoulders and rose to go perhaps mr hurd will explain he said and made for the door posh with his monkey face much perplexed sat hunched in his chair biting his fingers as paul laid his hand on the knob he called him back i can explain he said nervously not to me said paul coldly i prefer to do so to you said the lawyer hurriedly why to me particularly because i don't think i've acted very well towards miss norman and as you are to marry her you may be able to arrange. To make peace, I suppose you mean, burst out Bacot.

No, Mr. Posh, you have acted like a scoundrel. You left that poor girl in the lurch as soon as you found that Miss Crill was, as you thought, legally entitled to the money. What do you mean by hinting she isn't? Because you know very well

what her age is, retorted Paul. This matter will be shifted to the bottom, Mr. Posh, by my friend Ford. And if things are as I think they are. Miss Krill won't keep that money. You know very well. Miss Norman won't get the money either, snarled posh. I know that very well, least ways he added, without my assistance. More of your crooked ways, said Paul indignantly. Tell what you like to heard, I refuse to listen. As he spoke he opened the door

and found himself facing herd, who was red and hot. The dey, The detective stepped into the office. And as he passed, Paul, whispered, Hold your tongue about the boy. Then he turned to Mr. Posh. Well, sir, he puffed. I have had a job catching up Mr. Beacott. No doubt you know why I have come.

No, said Posh dryly. I don't see Trey. Trey will keep. I've got him safe under lock and key. Before bringing you face to face with him, I thought it best to give you an opportunity of clearing yourself. of what asked posh in a brazen manner hurd looked at beecott who spoke mr posh knows very well that tray accused him of the crime he said i told him so and he professed his readiness to explain to you ah said herd shut the door mr beacott no need to let all london know the truth i don't know it said posh as paul closed the door and returned to his seat

very good rejoined the detective calmly we'll assume for the sake of argument that you did not strangle norman that i certainly did not then you know who did come sir heard became stern this boy tray says he gave the opal brooch to you and i believe he did you would not have taken him into your office a boy off the streets and with a bad character at that unless you wanted to bribe him to hold his tongue i had no need to bribe said posh gnawing his finger-nails and rather cowled by this direct attack the boy did show me the opal brooch and i took it from him to return to norman when did you receive it asked hurd pulling out his book be careful mr posh i'll take down what you say i have nothing to conceal said posh in quite an unnecessarily injured manner i had employed the boy on several errands and he knew i was norman's lawyer on the evening of the sixth of july and the evening of the murder said hurd are you sure i'll take my oath on it the boy told me that mr beecott had met with an accident and that a blue velvet case containing a brooch had fallen out of his pocket it was stolen said becott hastily trey was not such a fool as to tell me that replied the lawyer dryly he said that he picked the case up out of the mud and took it home to his garret his grandmother who was a notorious thief wanted to get it and pawned for a drink but tray ran away with it and came to me about five o'clock he gave me the brooch and asked me to take charge of it as he expected to get money from erin norman who wanted it

tray overheard my conversation with norman said paul angrily and knew the brooch was mine and so did you mr posh well said the solicitor coolly what of that norman was my client and wanted the brooch i intended to keep it and then see you so that a sale might be arranged norman spoke to me about the brooch several times and wanted it for reasons you may not know oh yes we know said herd sardonicly we know much more than you give us credit for mr posh well you saw norman about the jewel later that evening i suppose you intend to tell us you gave him the brooch then i intend to tell nothing of the sort retorted posh after a few moments thought i see that things are coming to a crisis and i would like to see miss norman reinstated in her rights oh said paul indignantly and you did your best to give the money to maud krill because i believe she was legally entitled to it explained posh lamely but since no he broke off i'll say nothing just now i alone can put the matter right and i refuse to do so unless i have miss norman's promise that i shall keep the business paul would have refused then and there but heard more astute interrupted his angry speech we'll see about that later mr posh he said soothingly meanwhile what did you do with a brooch i laid it on the table there the case was open as i had been looking at it i sent tray out of the room and attended to my usual business several clients came and went and i forgot about the opal serpent

then i went to see my clerk outside about a deed i was with him for some minutes when i recollected the brooch before i went home for i intended to take it with me stop interrupted herd you were here till aaron norman came along with the jewels so you must have missed the brooch before he came or he would have taken it seeing it was exposed on the table my esteemed client did not come till seven said posh a noise and you must have missed the brooch before he came or he would have taken it seen it was exposed on the table my esteemed client did not come till seven said posh annoyed at being detected in trickery he walked about with a bag of jewels for some time not being able to make up his mind to give them to me which he did for safe keeping then he expected a visit from his wife i can't say said the solicitor with an air of fatigue he certainly hinted that he wanted the jewels placed away safely in case someone connected with the open brooch should come. Perhaps Captain Jessop, who did come, said Paul suddenly. He didn't mention the name of Jessop,

snapped Posh, had he hinted at a sailor, I would have known who my nautical visitor was. We know all about that, said Hurd, waving his hand. But if Norman came to see you at seven, how did you manage to prevent him meeting his wife in this office? Oh, she was?

What do you mean? as Posh, breaking off and conscious that he was letting something slip, something he had rather had not been known. Hurd saw the slip and Pasha's confusion, and at once made every use of the opportunity. In fact, he played a game of bluff. Shaking his finger, he approached the little lawyer. Do you think I come here unprepared, he asked solemnly. Do you think I have not been to the red pig at Christ's church?

and learned that Mrs. Crill knew of her husband's whereabouts, through Hay, long before the day she came to you with the lying story about the handbills. Hay has confessed to sharing the business of a false introduction to throw Mr. Beacott off the scent, seeing that he was defending Miss Norman's interest. Do you think I don't know that this woman, Krill, came to see you? through hay whose lawyer you are she was here on that fatal evening said herd making a bold shot how did you prevent her seeing norman posh was completely thrown off his balance by this volley of language and presumption of knowledge mrs krill left at six he gasped backing to the wall and carried off the brooch i'm not sure i can't say i did miss the brooch after Mrs. Crill left? No, when Norman came. I intended to show him the brooch and found it gone. Mrs. Crill left at six. Between six and seven, did any other client come to the office? Yes, no, I can't say. Well, Posh broke down in despair, seeing that his lies were not believed.

I think Mrs. Crill did steal the brooch. Quite so, and murdered her husband. Hurd went to the door and took Becott's arm. I only hope you won't be brought up as an accessory before the fact, Mr. Posh. And disregarding the lawyer's exclamations, he dragged Paul outside. In Chancery Lane, he spoke, I've bluffed him fine, he said. That boy is lost. Can't see him anywhere.

But we're getting at the truth at last. End of Chapter 23. Chapter 24 of the Opal Serpent by Fergus Heume. This Libravox recording is in the public domain. Mrs. Krill at Bay Next day, Herd did not go to see Mrs. Krill, as he had intended, but spent his time in hunting for the missing boy. Trey, however, was not to be found.

Being a gutter snipe and accustomed to dealing with the police, he was thoroughly well able to look after himself, and doubtless had concealed himself in some low den where the officers of the law would not think of searching for him. However, the fact remained that, in spite of the detective's search, he could not be caught, and the authorities were much vexed. To unravel the case completely, Trey was a necessary witness, especially as, even when examined at Jubilee Town, heard, shrewdly suspected, he had not confessed all the truth. However, what could be done was done, and several plain-clothes detectives were set to search for the missing boy.

Posh remained quiet for, at all events, the next four and twenty hours. Whether he saw Mrs. Crill or not during that time, Herd did not know. And, truth to say, he cared very little. The lawyer had undoubtedly acted dishonestly, and if the matter were made public, there would be every chance that he would be struck off the rolls. To prevent this, Posh was quite ready to sell Mrs. Crill and anyone else connected with the mystery. Also, he wished to keep the business of Miss Norman,

supposing the money, as he hinted, might be the case through his assistance, came back to her, and this might be used as a means to make him speak out. Herd was now pretty sure that Mrs. Crill was the guilty person. She knew Posh through hay, argued the detective, while thinking over the case, and undoubtedly came to see him before Norman's death. So that Posh might suggest ways and means of getting the better of the old man by means of the bigamy business. Mrs. Crill was in the Chancery Lane office when the brooch left by tray was on the table,

and Mrs. Krill, anxious to get it, no doubt, slipped it into her pocket when Posh was talking to his clerk in the outer room. Then I expect she decided to punish her husband by fastening his lips together as he had done those of her daughter twenty and more years ago. I can't exactly see why she strangled him, mused her, as she could have got the money without proceeding to such an extreme measure. But the man's dead, and she killed him sure enough. Now I'll get a warrant out and arrest her straight away. There's quite enough evidence to justify her being taken in charge. I wonder if she made use of that young devil of a tray in any way. Well, he rose and stretched himself.

I may force her to speak now that she is in a corner. Having made up his mind, Heard went to work at once. and the next day, late in the afternoon, he was driving in a cab to No. 32A. Hunter Street, Kensington, with a warrant in his pocket. He also had with him a letter which he had received from his Quinn, and written from Beach Hill in Buckinghamshire. Aurora had made good use of her time and learned the number of facts connected with Mrs. Crill's early life, which heard thought would prove of interest to the woman.

in one way and another the case was becoming plain and clear and the detective made sure that he would gain the reward the irony of the thing was that mrs krill was a view to throwing dust in the eyes of the law had offered a bribe of one thousand pounds for the discovery of the assassin she little thought when doing so that she was weaving a rope for her own neck herd had brought a plain-closed policeman with him and this man remained outside in a handsome while herd rang the bell in a few minutes the door was opened and the detective sent up his card mrs krill proved to be at home and consented to receive him so shortly the man found himself in an elegantly furnished drawing-room bowing before the silent and sedate daughter you wish to see my mother said maud with her eternal smile she will be down in a few minutes i await her convenience said herd admiring the handsome looks of the young woman although he plainly saw that she was as he phrased it no chicken after a few words miss krill rang the bell i want these things taken away she said pointing to a work-basket and some millinery with which she had been engaged when herd was an announced, then I shall leave you to speak to my mother. The detective wondered if she was too fine a lady to remove these things herself,

but his surprise ceased when the door opened, and no less a person than Matilda Junk appeared. He guessed at once that the landlady of the Red Pig had come up to see her sister and had related details about her visitor. Probably Mrs. Crill guessed that heard had been asking questions, and Matilda had been introduced to see if he was the man. He became certain of this when Miss Junk threw up her hands. The commercial gent, she exclaimed. Oh, no, said Maud, smiling smoothly.

This is Mr. Hurd, the detective, who was searching for the assassin of my dear father. Lower, said Matilda, growing red, and he's the man as came to ask questions at the hotel. I do call it bold of you, Mr. Policeman. "'Well,' said Hurd, swinging his hat lazily, and looking from one to the other, quite taking in the situation. You answered very few of my questions, so that is all right.

"'Why did you go down to Christ's church?' asked Miss Crill. "'If I have to find out who killed your father,' said Hurd, with an accent on the word father, it was necessary that I should learn about his past life as Lemuel Crill. My mother could have informed you, sir. I guessed as much, and, as Miss Junk would not speak, I have come to question Mrs. Krill. Ah, here she is, heard rose and bowed. I am glad to see you, madam. Mrs. Krill, who was as plump and smiling and smooth-faced and severe as ever, bowed and rubbed her white hands together.

At a sign from Maude, Matilda gathered up the fancy work, and went out of the room with many backward glances. These were mostly indignant, for she was angry at Herd's deception. Do you wish my daughter to stay? asked Mrs. Krill smoothly. That is how she pleases, said the detective. No thank you, mother, said Maude, shuddering. I have heard quite enough of my poor father's terrible death, and she swept out of the drawing-room with a gracious smile.

That poor child is so sensitive, sighed Mrs. Krill, taking a seat with her back to the window, whether this was done to conceal her age or the expression of her face during a conversation which could not fail to prove trying, Hurd was unable to determine. I trust, Mr. Hurd, you have come with good news, said the widow. What would you call good news? asked the detective dryly. "'That you have traced the assassin,' she replied coolly. "'Heard was amazed at this brazen assurance "'and thought that Mrs. Crill must be quite convinced

"'that she had covered up every trail "'likely to lead to the discovery of her connection with the murder. "'I leave you to judge whether I have been successfully,' "'said calmly. "'I shall be pleased to hear was to equally calm reply. "'But as Mrs. Crill spoke, she glanced towards a gorgeous tapestry curtain at the end of the room, and Hurd fancied he saw it shake.

It suddenly occurred to him that Maude was behind. Why should she choose this secret way of listening when she could have remained it was difficult to say, and he half thought he was mistaken. However, listening openly and secretly did not matter so far as the daughter was concerned. so Hurd addressed himself to Mrs. Crill in a loud and cheerful voice. She composed herself to listen with a bland smile, and apparently was quite ignorant that there was anything wrong. I was lately down at Christchurch, madam, so my servant Matilda Junk said,

It was necessary that I should go there to search out your husband's past life. In that past, I fancied, might be found the motive for the commission of the I could have saved you the journey, said Mrs. Krill, shrugging her plump shoulders. I can tell you what you wish to know. In that case I will relate all that I have learned, and perhaps you will correct me if I am wrong. Mrs. Krill bowed, but did not commit herself to speech. For the sake of effect, the detective took out a sheath of notes, but in reality

he had the various points of the case at his fingertips. You will excuse me if I talk on very private manners, he said, apologetically. But as we are alone, again Mrs. Krill glanced at the curtain, and thereby confirming her suspicion of an unseen listener. You will not mind my being, perhaps, personal. Personal, echoed Mrs. Krill, a keen look coming into her hard eyes, and she stopped rubbing her hands together. Well, yes, admitted Hurd, with affected reluctance, I had to look into your past, as well as

in to that of your husbands. Mrs. Crill's eyes grew harder than ever. She scented danger. My past is the most uninteresting one, she said coldly. I was born at Stolley in Buckinghamshire, and married Mr. Crill at Beach Hill, which is just a few miles from that town. He was a traveler in jewelry. but as i did not like as being away from me i induced him to rent the red pig at christ's church to which we removed then he left me on account of lady racial sandals murder

mrs krill controlled herself excellently although she was startled by this speech as was evident from the expression of her eyes that poor lady committed suicide she said deliberately the jury at the inquest brought in a verse verdict of suicide. By a majority of one, Edd had heard quickly, there seemed to be a considerable amount of doubt as to the cause of the death. The death was caused by strangulation, said Mrs. Crill, in hard tones. Since you know all about the matter, you must be aware that I and my daughter had retired after seeing Lady Racial safe and sound for the night. The death was discovered by a boon companion of my husband's, with whom he was drinking at the time. I know that, also, that you came down with your daughter when the alarm was given.

I also know that Krill fastened your daughter's lips together with the opal brooch, which was found in the parlor. Who told you that? asked Mrs. Krill, agitated. Jessop, the boom companion you speak of. Yes, she said, suppressing her agitation with a powerful effort, Matilda said you had him to dine with you. What else did he say?

She asked with some hesitation. Much less than I should have liked to know, retorted Hurd, prepared to throw off the mask. But he told me a great deal which interested me very much, amongst other things that Grafton Hay had been engaged to your daughter for two years. Well, asked Mrs. Krill, coolly, what of that? Nothing particular rejoined her just as coolly. only, I wonder, you took the trouble to pretend that you met Hay at Pasha's office for the first time.

That was some romantic rubbish of my daughters. There was no reason why we should not have acknowledged Mr. Hay as an old acquaintance. None in the world that I can see, said Hurd, smoothly. He told you that Aaron Norman was your husband. No, said Mrs. Crill decidedly, I first heard of my husband by seeing a chance hand to. Bill. Not at all, answered her, just as decidedly. Hey, has confessed.

There was nothing to confess, cried Mrs. Krill, loudly, and with emphasis. Oh, I think so, said the detective, noting that she was losing her temper. You didn't want it known that you were aware of Norman's identity before his death. Do you deny that? I deny everything, gasped Mrs. Krill, her hands trembling. That's a pity, as I want you to corroborate certain facts connected with Anne Tyler. Do you know the name? My maiden name, said the widow, and a look of fear crept into her hard, staring eyes.

How did you come to know of it? From the marriage certificate supplied by Posh. He had no right to give it to you. He didn't. I possessed only a copy, but that copy I sent down in charge of a certain person to Beach Hill. this person found that you were married as anne tyler to lemuel krill in the parish church twenty miles from your birthplace mrs krill drew a long breath of relief well she demanded defiantly is there anything wrong about that no but this person also made inquiries stolly about you you are the daughter of a farmer i mention that fact myself yes but you didn't mention that your mother had been hanged for poisoning your father mrs krill turned ghastly pale no she said in a suffocating voice such is the case but can you wonder that i forbore to mention that fact my daughter knows nothing of that nor did my husband

"'Which husband do you mean, Krill or Jessop?' asked her. Mrs. Krill gasped and rose, Swain. What do you mean, man?' This, said the detective, on his feet at once, this person hunted out the early life of Anne Tyler at Stolley. It was discovered that Anne was the daughter of a woman who had been hanged and of a man who had been murdered.

Also this person found that Anne Tyler married a sailor called Jarvie Jessop some years before she committed bigamy with Lemuel Krill in Beach Hill Church. It's a lie, screaming Mrs. Krill, losing her self-control. How dare you come here with these falsehoods? They are not falsehoods. Anne Tyler, alias and Jessop, alias Anne Krill, etc., retorted heard, speaking rapidly and emphasizing his remarks with his finger, in his usual fashion, when in deadly earnest. You were married to Jessop in Stolley Church. You bore him a daughter, who was christened,

mawed Jessop in Stolley Church. The person I mentioned sent me copies of the marriage and birth certificates. So your marriage with Lemuel Krill was false, and his second marriage with Lillian Garner is a good one in law. Which means Mrs. Jessop, heard, hurled the word at her, as she shrank that Sylvia Norman, or Sylvia Crill, as she rightfully is, owns that money which you wrongfully withhold from her. The will gave the five thousand a year to my daughter,

and Sylvia is the only daughter and only child, the legitimate child, Mark you, of Lemuel Krill. Lies, lies, lies, raised Mrs. Krill, as she may still be called, the rightfully Jessop. I'll defend the case on my daughter's behalf. Your daughter certainly, said Hurd, but not Crills. I say yes, and I say no. She was fifteen when Lady Rachel was murdered, as Jessup her father admitted.

I knew the man was keeping something back, but I was far from suspecting that it was this early marriage. No wonder the man came to you and had free quarters at the Red Pig. He could have prosecuted you for bigamy, just as you would have prosecuted Crill had you not murdered him. Mrs. Crill gave a yell and her eyes blazed. You hound, she shouted. Do you accuse me of that?

I do more than accuse you. I arrest you. Heard produced the warrant. A man is waiting in the cab. We'll get a four-wheeler, and you'll come along with me to jail, Mrs. Jessup. You can't prove it. You can't prove it, she panted. And I shan't go.

I shan't, I shan't. and her eyes sought the tapestry miss jessup can come out said hurried coolly and as till you're not coming a few policemen will soon put that right how dare you insult me and my daughter come come said the detective sternly i've had quite enough of this you offered me one thousand pounds to learn who killed your so-called husband krill i have earned the reward not one shilling shall you have oh i think so miss sylvia will pay it to me and you i'm innocent i never touched the man a jury will decide that mrs jessop krill my name is krill heard laughed and turned toward the tapestry what do you say miss jessop he asked seeing that further concealment was at an end maud lifted the tapestry which concealed a small door through which she had silently stolen to listen she advanced calmly i have heard all your conversation with my mother she declared with flashing eyes and not one word of it is true i am the daughter of lemuel krill you will find that hard to prove in the face of your birth certificate and your mother's marriage to captain jessup your father it will all be put right quite so and miss norman will get the money that girl never cried maud fiercely she looked very much like her mother at the moment, but the more angry she grew, the calmer became Mrs. Krill, who kept

darting anxious glances at her daughter. And you shan't take my mother away, she cried, threateningly. I don't want to make a scandal in the neighborhood, said Hurd, taken a small whistle from his pocket. But if I blow this, my man out there will call the nearest policeman, and then— There's no need, interrupted Mrs. Krill, who had recovered her self-control. "'Maud come over beside me. "'On what grounds, Mr. Hurd, do you accuse me of the crime?

"'I was not in town, on?' "'Oh, yes, you were, Mrs. Jessop. "'Posch can prove that you were in his office "'and took the brooch left by tray from the table. "'I don't know where you stopped on that night.' "'At Jutson's hotel, Strand,' cried Maud, "'placing herself beside her mother, "'and anyone there can prove that my mother and myself

were within doors after we came from Terry Cedar where we spent the evening. As my father, for Crill was, my father, was killed after twelve, and we were both in bed in one room before then. Your accusation falls to the ground. My mother was with me, and she did not leave the whole evening. Next day we went to Christchurch. Heard was rather staggered by the positive way in which the year. young woman spoke. But the facts were too plain for him to hesitate. I must trouble you to come along with me, he said.

No, don't go. To put on my cloak and hat, urged Mrs. Krill, I'll come quietly enough. I don't want a scandal. I'm sure when the magistrate hears what I have to say, he will let me go free. I trust so, but you must not leave the room. Matilda will, no doubt, bring your things. Mrs. Krill touched the electric button of the bell, while Maude walked up and down, deathly white and fuming. Mr. Hay, she'll see to this, she said in a cold rage. Mr. Hay will have quite enough to do to look after himself, said the detective coolly.

You had better let your mother go quietly, and I won't say anything to Matilda Junk. Yes, do, Maude, urged the mother, placing an imploring hand upon her tall daughter's shoulder. It is better so everything will be put right when the magistrate hears my story. What will you tell him, mother? asked Maude, that I am innocent, and that I am, as you are, ignorant, of who killed your unfortunate father. Matilda entered the room and heard that Mrs. Crill had to go out on business with Mr. Hurd. On receiving her orders, she departed, and presently, returned with the cloak and hat. Mrs. Crill, who was now quite cool, put these on.

Hurd could not but admire the brave way in which she faced the terrible situation. Maud seemed to be far more upset, and Hurd wondered if the young woman knew the truth. Mrs. Crill kept soothing her. It will be all right, my love. Don't excite yourself, it will be all right, she said several times. Miss Junk departed,

and Mrs. Crill said that she was ready to depart. Hurd offered her his arm, which she rejected, and walked to the door with a firm step, although her face was rather white. At the door she caught her daughter round the neck and kissed her several times, after which she whispered earnestly in her ear, and then went down the stairs with the detective in attendance.

Maud, with white lips and cheeks, but with dry eyes, followed. When her mother was safely in the cab, the plain-closed policeman alighted, so that Hurd might take his place. Maud came quietly down the steps and seized the detective by the arm. "'You have ruined my mother,' she said, in a cold, hard tone. "'You have robbed me of my money and of the chance of marrying the man I love. "'I can't hurt you, but that girl, Sylvia, she shall never get one penny, so remember.'

Hurd shook her off and, stepping into the cab, drove away. Mrs. Crill looked apprehensively at him. What did Maud say, she asked, Hurd told her, and Mrs. Crill closed her lips firmly. Maude is quite right, she said, with a strange smile. Sylvia will never get the money. End of Chapter 24. Chapter 25 of the Opal Serpent by Fergus Hume.

This Libravox recording is in the public domain. A cruel woman. Just say your meaning, my pretty queen, said Mrs. Tauzy, as she stood at the sitting-room door and watched Sylvia reading an ill-written letter. It's twelve now, and I can be back by five. After long, an enjoyable talk with Matilda. You certainly must go, replied Sylvia, handing back the letter.

i am sure your sister will be glad to see you debby deborah sniffed and scratched her elbow relatives ain't friends in our family she said shaking her head whatever you may say my dearie sweet father knocked mother into lunatics after she nagged them to drunk in police cells three brothers i had and all of em that handy with their fists that they couldn't bear to live in harmony without black eyes and swollen bummered with their fists and swollen bummered with her fists that they couldn't bear to live in harmony without black eyes and swollen bummer all over them. As to Matilda, she and me never did, what you might call, hit it off, by reason of her not giving way to me, as she should have done, me being the youngest, and what you might call the baby of the lot. We ain't seen each other for years, and the meeting will be cold. She'll not have much forgiveness for me being a bride, and she, but a lone cross-patch, drat her. Don't quarrel with her, Debbie. She has written you a very nice letter, asking you to go down to Mrs. Krill's house in Kensington,

and she really wants to see you before she goes back to Christ Church tonight. Well, I'll go, said Deborah suddenly, but I don't like leaving you all by your own very self, my sunflower. I'll be all right, Debbie. Paul comes at four o'clock, and you'll be back at five. "'Sooner, if me and Matilda don't hit it off. "'Or if we hit each other, which— "'Noir in her habits I do expects. "'But Barts out to six, "'and there won't be anyone to look after them as washes.

"'Four of them,' added Mrs. Tawsey, "'rubbing her nose, and as idle, has pork pines. "'Mrs. Pyr can look after them.' "'Look after gin, more like,' said Deborah, contemptuously. "'She's always sucking, sly-like, trying to pretend as its water, as if the smell didn't give it away, whatever the color may be. And here she is, idling as usual. And I may ask, Mrs. Per, ma'am, demanded Deborah with great politeness,

what I pays you for in the way of ironing. But Mrs. Per was too excited to reply. She brushed past her indignant mistress, and faced Sylvia, waving a dirty piece of paper. "'Lord, Miss,' she almost screamed, "'you do say, as you want to know, "'where that limb tray have got to.' "'Yes, yes,' said Sylvia, rising. "'He escaped from Mr. Hurd,

"'and we want to find him very much.' "'It's a letter from him,' said Mrs. Per, "'thrusting the paper into Sylvia's hand.' "'That's how he writes, "'not having been to a board school. "'I don't know.' "'He's in Ken at Lambeth, "'and ill at that,

wants me to go and see em but i can't leave the ironing yes you can said deborah suddenly this errand is necessary mrs purr ma'am so just put on your burnet and go to mr hurd as his office is at scotland yard and take him with you oh but i couldn't you go advised mrs tausie there's five pounds offered for the brats being found five pound gasped mrs purr trembling lord and me having a chance of getting it i'll go i'll go i knows the yard having had something to do with them dirty police in my time miss sylvia yes go mrs purr and see mr hurd he'll give you the five pounds if you take him the tray sylvia handed back the paper tray seems to be ill ill or well he shan't lose me those five pounds if i have to drag him into the lock-up myself said mrs purr resolutely where's my bonnet my shawl and old lord five pounds them as is good always gets the rewards and she hurried out hardly able to walk for excitement there's a nice old party for you miss sylvia debby said the girl thoughtfully you take her to the yard to see mr hurd and then go to kensington and speak with your sister well i'll go as important it is said mrs tausy rubbing her nose harder than ever but i hopes you won't be lone my poppet dovey oh no said sylvia kissing her and pushing her towards the door I'll look after those four women in the wash-house, and read this new book I have.

Then I must get tea ready for Paul, who comes at four. The afternoon will pass quite quickly. I'll be back at five, if I can, and earlier, if Matilda ain't what she ought to be, said Mrs. Tausie, yielding. So make yourself happy, honey, till you see me smiling again. In another quarter of an hour, Mrs. Tausie, dressed in her bridled gown, and bonnet, so as the crush Matilda with the sight of her splendor, walked down the garden path

attended by Mrs. Per in a snuffy black shawl and a kind of cobweb on her head which she called a bunnet. As Deborah was tall and in white, and Mrs. Per small and in black, they looked a strange pair. Sylvia waved her hand out of the window to Debbie

as the faithful creature turned her head for a final look at the young mistress she idolized. The large, rough woman, was dog-like in her fidelity. Sylvia, left alone, proceeded to arrange matters. She went to the wash-house,

which was detached from the cottage, and saw that the four women who worked under Deborah were busy. She found them all chattering and washing in a cheerful way. So after a word or two of commendation, she returned to the sitting-room. Here she played a

game of patience, arranged the tea-things, although it was yet early, and finally settled down to one of Mrs. Henry Wood's interesting novels. She was quite alone and enjoyed the solitude. The Warsh House was so far away, at the end of the yard, that the loud voices of the workers could not be heard. The road before Rose Cottage was not a popular thoroughfare, and it was rarely that anyone passed. Out of the window, Sylvia could see a line of raw red brick villas and sometimes a spurt of steam,

denoting the presence of the railway station. Also, she saw the green fields and the sear hedges with the red berries, giving promise of a hard winter. The day was sunny but cold, and there was a feeling of autumnal dampness in the air. Deborah had lighted a fire before she went that her mistress might be comfortable. So Sylvia sat down before this and read for an hour, frequently stopping to think of Paul.

And wonder if he would come at the appointed hour afore or earlier. With the warmth and the reading and the dreaming, she fell into a kind of doze, from which she was awakened by a sharp and preemptory knock, wondering if her lover had unexpectedly arrived though she did not think he would rap in so a decided manner sylvia rubbed the sleep out of her pretty eyes and hurried to the door on the step she came face to face with miss maud krill do you know me miss norman asked maud who was smiling and suave though rather white in the face yes you came with your mother to gwynne street replied sylvia wondering why she had been honored with a visit quite so may i have a few minutes of conversation with you certainly sylvia saw no reason to deny this request although she did not like miss but it struck her that something might be learned from that young woman relative to the murder and thought she would have something to tell paul about when he arrived will you walk in please and she threw open the sitting-room door are you quite alone asked maud entering and seating herself in the chair near the fire quite answered sylvia stiffly and wondering why the question was asked that is the four washer women are in the place at the back but mrs tausie went to your house to see her sister

she arrived before i left said maud coolly i saw them quarrelling in a most friendly way where is mr expect him later and bart tausie who married your nurse he is absent on his rounds may i ask why you question me in this way miss krill asked sylvia coldly because i have much to say to you which no one else must hear was the calm reply dear me how hot this fire is and she moved her chair so that it blocked sylvia's way to the door also miss krill cast a glance at the window it was not a little but she moved her chair so that it had blocked sylvia's way to the door also miss krill cast a glance at the window it was not snibbed, and she made a movement as if to go to it, but restraining herself, she turned her calm, cold face to the girl. I have much to say to you, she repeated. Indeed, replied Sylvia politely, I don't think you have treated me so well that you should trouble the converse with me.

Will you please to be brief? Mr. Becott is coming at four, and he will not be at all pleased to see you. Maud glanced at the clock. We have an hour, she said, cold. it is just a few minutes after three my business will not take long she added with an unpleasant smile what is your business asked sylvia uneasily for she did not like the smile if you will sit down i'll tell you miss norman took a chair near the wall and as far from her visitor as was possible in so small a room maud took from her neck a black silk handkerchief which she wore evidently as a person as was possible in so small a room maud took from her neck a black silk handkerchief which she wore evidently as a protection against the cold, and folding it lengthwise, laid it across her lap. Then she looked at Sylvia in a cold, critical way.

You are very pretty, my dear, she said insolently. Did you come to tell me that, asked the girl, firing up at the tone? No, I came to tell you that my mother was arrested last night for the murder of our father. Oh, Sylvia gasped, and lay back on her chair. She killed him. that cruel woman. She did not, cried Maude, passionately. My mother is perfectly innocent.

That blackard heard arrested her wrongfully. I overheard all the conversation he had with her, and know that he told a pack of lies. My mother did not kill our father. My father, not yours, said Sylvia firmly. How dare you? Lemuel Krill was my father. No, insisted Sylvia,

I don't know who your father was, but from your age I know that you are not. Leave my age alone, cried the other sharply, and, with an uneasy movement of her hands, we won't discuss that or the question of my father. We have more interesting things to talk about. I won't talk to you at all, said Sylvia, rising. Sit down and listen. You shall hear me. I'm not going to let my mother suffer for a deed. She never committed. Nor, am I going to let you have the money? It's mine. It is not, and you shall not get it. Paul, Mr. Beacott, will assert my rights?

Will he indeed, said the other, with a glance at the clock? We'll see about that. There's no time to be lost, I have much to say. Nothing that can interest me. Oh, yes, I think you'll find our conversation very interesting. I'm going to be open with you, for what I tell you will never be told by you to any living soul. If I see fit it shall, cried Sylvia in a rage,

how dare you dictate to me? Because I'm driven into a corner. I wish to save my mother. How it is to be done I don't know. I wish to stop you getting to five thousand a year. I know how that is to be done, ended Miss Crill, with a cruel smile and a flash of her white, hungry. looking teeth, you rat of a girl.

Leave the room. When I please, not before. You listen to me. I'm going to tell you about the murder. Oh, said Sylvia, turning pale. What do you mean? Listen, said the other, with a taunting laugh. You'll be white enough before I've done with you. Do you see this? And she laid her finger on her lips. Do you see this scar? Crill did that. Sylvia noticed that she did not speak of Crillers'

her father this time. He pinned my lips together when I was a child with that opal serpent. I know, replied Sylvia, shuddering, it was cruel. I heard about it from the detective, and, I do not wish for your sympathy. I was a girl of fifteen when that was done, and I will carry the scar to my grave. Child, as I was then, I vowed revenge. On your father, said Sylvia, contemptuously. Crill is not my father, said Nod, changing front all at once.

He is yours, but not mine. My father is Captain Jessup. I have known this for years. Captain Jessup told me I was his daughter. My mother thought that my father was drowned at sea, and so married Krill, who was a traveler in jewelry. He and my mother rented the Red Pig at Christchurch, and for years they led an unhappy life.

Oh, gasped Sylvia, you confess, I'll tell Paul. You'll tell no one, retorted the other woman sharply. Do you think I would speak so openly in order that you might tell all the world with your gambling tongues? Yes, and I'll speak more openly still before I leave. Lady Rachel Sandel did not commit suicide, as my mother said. She was strangled, and by her. me. Sylvia clapped her hands to her face with a scream. By you? Yes, she had a beautiful

brooch. I wanted it. I was put to bed by my mother and kept thinking of the brooch. My mother was down the stairs attending to your drunken father. I stole to Lady Rachel's room and found her asleep. I tried to take the brooch from her breast, she woke, and caught at my hand. But I tore the brooch away, and before she was her, and before she was her brooch, she woke, Before Lady Rachel could scream, I twisted the silk handkerchief she wore, which was already round her throat tighter. I'm strong. I was always strong, even as a girl of fifteen.

She was weak from exhaustion, so she soon died. My mother came into the room and saw what I had done. She was terrified and made me go back to bed. Then she tied Lady Rachel by the silk handkerchief to the bedpost so that it might be thought she had committed suicide. My mother then came back to me and took the brooch, telling me I might be hanged if it was found on me. I was afraid, being only a girl, and gave up the brooch. Then Captain Jessop raised the alarm. I and my mother went downstairs, and my mother dropped the brooch on the floor, so that it might be supposed Lady Rachel had

lost it there. Captain Jessop ran out. I wanted to give the alarm, and tell the neighbors that Krill had done it. For I knew then he was not my father, and I saw, moreover, how unhappy he made my mother. He caught me, said Maude, with a fierce look, and bound the handkerchief across my mouth. I got free and screamed. Then he bound me, hand and foot, and pinned my lips together with a brooch which he picked off the floor. My mother fought for me, but he knocked her down.

Then he fled, and after a long time Jessop came in. He removed the brooch from my mouth and unbound me. I was put to bed, and Jessop revived my mother. Then came the inquest, and it was thought that Lady Rachel had committed suicide. But she did not, cried Maude, exultingly, and with a cruel light in her eyes, I killed her, I. Oh, moaned Sylvia, backing against the wall with widely opened eyes. Don't tell me more.

What horrors? bah you kitten sneered maud contemptuously i have not half done yet you have yet to hear how i killed krill sylvia shrieked and sank back into her chair staring with horrified eyes at the cruel face before her yes cried maud exultingly i killed him my mother suspected me but she never knew for certain listen when hay told me that krill was hiding as norman and gwynne street i determined to punish him for his cruelty to me i did not say this but i made hay promise to get me the brooch from becote on no other condition would i marry him i wanted the brooch to pin krill's lips together as he had pinned mine when i was a helpless child but your fool of a lover would not part with the brooch tray the boy took it from becott's pocket when he met with the accident how do you know tray because i met him at posh's office several times when i was up he ran errands for posh before he became regularly employed i saw that trey was a devil of whom i could make use oh i know tray and i also know hokar the indian who placed the sugar on the counter he went to the shop to kill your father at my request i wanted revenge and the money hokar was saved from starvation by my good mother he came of a race of thugs if you know anything about them oh moaned sylvia covering her face again ah you do so much the better it will save my explaining as there is not much time left before your fool arrives

hokhar saw that i love to hurt living creatures and he taught me how to strangle cats and dogs and things no one knew but hokar that i killed them and it was thought he ate them but he did I strangled them because I love to see them suffer, and because I wish to learn how to strangle in the way the thugs did. Sylvia was sick with fear and disgust. For God's sakes, don't tell me any more, she said imploringly. But she might as well have spoken to a granite rock. You shall hear everything, said Maude relentlessly. I asked Hokar to strangle krill.

He went to the shop, but when he saw that krill had only one eye, he could not offer him to the goddess bewani he came to me at judson's hotel after he left the sugar on the counter and told me the goddess would not accept the offering of a maimed man i did not know what to do i went with my mother to posh's office when she was arranging to prosecute krill for bigamy i met trey there he told me he had given the brooch to posh and then it was in the inner office my mother was talking to posh within and i chatted to tray outside i told tray i wanted to kill krill and that if he would help me i would give him a lot of money he agreed for he was a boy such as i was when a girl fond of seeing things suffer you can't wonder at it and me went on mrs krill coolly my grandmother was hanged for poisoning my grandfather and i expect i inherit the love of murder from her i won't listen cried sylvia shuddering oh yes you will i'll soon be done went on her perse cruelly well then when i found tray was like myself i determined to get the broaching hurt krill hurt him as he hurt me she cried vehemently tray told me of the cellar and of the side passage when my mother and posh came out of the inner office and went to the door i ran in and took the brooch it was hidden under some papers and had escaped my mother's eyes

but i searched till i got it then i made an appointment with tray for eleven o'clock at the corner of gwynn street i went back to judson's hotel and my mother and i went to the theatre we had supper and retired the bed that as my mother did. We had left the theater early as my mother had a headache. And I had plenty of time. Mother fell asleep almost immediately. I went downstairs veiled and in dark clothes. I slipped past the night porter and met Trey. We went by the side passage to the cellar, thinking we were customers. Crill let us in. Tray locked the door, and I threw myself on Krill. He had not been drinking much, or I might not have mastered him, as it was. He was too terrified when he recognized me the struggle. In fact, he fainted. With Trey's assistance, I found his hands behind his back, and then we enjoyed ourselves. She rubbed her hands together, looking more

like a fiend than a woman. Sylvia rose and staggered to the door. No more, no more. Maude pushed her back into her chair. Stop where you are, you whimpering, fool, she snarled exultingly. I have you safe. Then she continued quickly, with another glance at the clock, the long hand, of which now pointed to a quarter to four. With Trey's assistance, I carried Krill up to the shop. Tray found an auger and bored a hole in the floor. Then I picked up a coil of copper wire, which was being used in packing things, for Krill to make his escape. I took it up. we laid krill's neck over the hole and passed a wire round his neck and through the hole tray went down and tied a cross-stick on the end of the wire so that he could put his weight on it when we strangled

oh great heaven moaned sylvia stopping her ears maud bent over her and pulled her hands away you shall hear you little beast she snarled all the time krill was sensible he recovered his senses after he was bound i prolonged his agony as much as possible when tray went down to sea after the wire i knelt beside krill and told him that i knew i was not his daughter that i intended to strangle him as i had strangled lady rachel he shrieked with horror that was the cry you heard you cat which brought you downstairs i never expected that cried maud clapping her hands that was a treat for krill i never intended i stopped his crying any more for assistance by pinning his mouth together, as he had done mine over twenty years before. Then I sat beside him and taunted him. I heard the policeman pass, and the church clock strike the quarter. Then I heard footsteps, and guessed you were coming. It occurred to me, to give you a treat, by strangling the man before your eyes, and punish him more severely, since the brooch stopped him, calling out, as it stopped me. Me, she cried.

cried, striking her breast. "'Oh, how could you? How could?' "'You feeble thing,' said Maude contemptuously, "'and patting the girl's cheek. "'You would not have done it, I know. But I loved it. I loved it. That was living indeed. I went down to the cellar and fastened the door behind me.

Trey was already pressing on the cross-stick at the end of the wire, and laughed as he pressed. But I stopped him. I heard you and that woman enter the shop and heard what you said. I prolonged Krill's agony, and then I pressed the wire down myself for such a time as I thought it would take the squeeze of life out of the beast. Then with Tray, I locked the cellar door and left by the side passage. We dodged all the police and got into the strand.

I did not return to the hotel, but walking around with Tray all night, talking with joy, cried Maude, clapping her hands. With joy, do you hear? When it was eight, I went to Jutson's. The porter thought I had been out for an early walk, my mother. Here Maud broke off, for Sylvia, who was staring over her shoulder out of the window, saw a form she knew well at the gate.

Paul, Paul, she shrieked, come, come! Maud whipped the black silk handkerchief round the girl's neck. You shall never get the money, she whispered, cruelly, you shall never tell anyone what I have told you. Now I'll show you how Hokar taught me. She jerked the handkerchief tight, but Sylvia got her hand under the cruel bandage

and shrieked aloud in despair. At once she heard an answering shriek. It was the voice of Deborah. Maud darted to the door and locked it. Then she returned, and flinging Sylvia down, tried again to tighten the handkerchief, her face white and fierce her eyes glittering like a demon's help help cried sylvia and her voice grew weaker but she struggled and kept her hands between the handkerchief and her throat maud tried to drag them away fiercely deborah was battering frantically at the door paul ran round to the window it was not locked and maud struggling with sylvia had no time to close it

With a cry of alarm, Paul threw up the window and jumped into the room. At the same moment, Deborah, putting her sturdy shoulder to the frail door, burst it open. Becott flung himself on the woman and dragged her back, but she clung like a leech to Sylvia with the black handkerchief in her grip. Deborah, silent and fierce, grabbed at the handkerchief and tore it from Maud's grasp. Sylvia, half strangled, fell back in a faint, white hat. as a corpse, while Paul struggled with the savage and baffled woman. You've killed her, shouted Deborah, and laid her strong hands on Maud.

You devil! She shook her fiercely. I'll kill you, and she shook her again. Paul threw himself on his knees beside the insensible form of Sylvia and left Deborah to deal with Maud. That creature was gasping as Mrs. Tawzy swung her to and fro. Then she began to fight, and the two women crashed. round the little room, upsetting the furniture.

Paul took Sylvia in his arms and shrank against the wall to protect her. A new person suddenly appeared, no less a woman than Matilda. When she saw Maude in Deborah's grip, she flew at her sister like a tigress and dragged her off. Maude was free for a moment. Seeing her chance, she scrambled out of the window and ran through the garden down the road toward the station. Perhaps she had a vague idea of escape.

Deborah, exerting her great strength, threw Matilda aside and without a cry, ran out of the house, and after the assassin who had tried to strangle Sylvia. Matilda, true to her assault, ran also to help Maude Krill, and the two women sped in the wake of the insane creature who was swiftly running in the direction of the station.

People began to look round, a crowd gathered, like magic, and in a few moments Maude was being chased by quite a mob of people. She ran like a hair. Heaven only knows if she hoped to escape after her failure to kill Sylvia. But she ran on blindly into the new street of Jubilee Town she sped with a roaring mob at her heels. She darted down aside, thoroughfare, but Deborah gained on her silently. and with a savage look in her eyes. Several policemen joined in the chase,

though no one knew what the flying woman had done. Maud turned suddenly up the slope that led to the station. She gained the door, darted through it, upset the man at the barrier, and, with clenched fists, stood at bay, her back to the rails. Deborah darted forward. Maude gave a wild scream and sprang aside.

Then she reeled and fell over the platform. The next moment a train came slowing into the station, and immediately the wretched woman was under the cruel wheels. When she was picked up, she was dead, and almost cut to pieces. Lady Rachel and Lemuel Krill were revenged. End of Chapter 25. Chapter 26 of the Opal Serpent by Fergus Hume. This Libravox recording is in the public domain.

A final explanation. Sylvia was ill for a long time after that terrible hour. Although Maude had not succeeded in strangling her, yet the black silk handkerchief left marks on her neck. Then the struggle, the shock, and the remembrance of the horrors related by the miserable woman, threw her into a nervous fever, and it was many weeks before she recovered sufficiently to enjoy life. Deborah never forgave herself for having left Sylvia alone, and nursed her with a fierce tenderness which was the result of remorse. If that wretched had killed my pretty,

she said to Paul, I'd have killed her if I was hanged for it five times over. God has punished the woman, said Paul solemnly, and a terrible death she met with being mutilated by the wheels of the train. Serves her right, rejoined Deborah, heartlessly. What can you expect, for good folk, if wicked ones, as go strangling people, don't get the Lord down on them. Oh, Mr. Beacott, Deborah broke down into noisy tears.

The horrors, that may lovely one, has told me. I tried to stop her, but she would torque, which was what you might call delirious like. Such murders and gory assassins. as was never heard of. I gathered something of this from what Sylvia let drop, and we came back from the station, said Beacott anxiously.

Tell me exactly what she said, Deborah. Why, that thing as is dead, and may she rest in peace, she don't deserve to, told how she murdered Lady Rachel in my old master. Deborah, cried Beacot amazed, you must be mistaken. No, I ain't, sir. That thing gov. gave my lily queen the horrors.

Just you hear, Mr. Beacott, and creeps will go up your back. Lord, have mercy on us, as don't know the wickedness of the world. I think we have learned something of it lately, Mrs. Tawzy, was Paul's grim reply, but tell me. What my poor angel sunbeam said, I will, and if it gives you nightmares, don't blame me. And Mrs. Tauzy, in her own vigorous, ungrammatical way, related what she had heard from Sylvia. Paul was struck with horror and wanted to see Sylvia, but this Deborah would not allow. She's sleeping like a pretty daisy, said Mrs. Tawsey, so don't you go in disturbing her no-how. Though across my crop, you may make a try, say what you like. But Paul thought better of it,

thinking Sylvia had best be left in the rough, kindly hands of her old nurse. He went off to fine herd and related all that had taken place. The detective was equally horrified along with Beacott when he heard of Sylvia's danger and set to work to prove the truth of what Maud had told the girl. He succeeded so well that within a comparatively short space of time the whole matter was made clear. Mrs. Jessop, alias Mrs. Krill, was examined.

Trey was found and questioned. Matilda was made to speak out, and both jessup and hokar had to make clean breasts of it the evidence thus procured proved the truth of the terrible confession made by maw jessup to the girl she thought to strangle herd was amazed at the revelation never call me a detective again he said to paul for i am an ass i thought jessip might be guilty or that hokar might have done it i could have taken my bible oath that mrs krill strangled the man, but I never for one moment suspected that smiling young woman. Oh, Paul shrugged the shoulders. She was mad. She must have been, ruminated the detective, else she wouldn't have given herself away so completely. Whatever made her tell Miss Norman what she had done. Because she never thought that Sylvia would live to tell anyone else.

That was why she spoke, and thought to torture Sylvia, as she did, in the same way that she tortured that wretched man, Lemuel. If I hadn't come earlier to Rose Cottage than usual, and if Deborah had not met me unexpectedly at the station, Sylvia certainly would have been killed. And then Maude might have escaped. She laid her plans well. It was she who induced Matilda

to get her sister to come to Kensington for a chat. But Matilda didn't know what Maude was up to. No, Matilda never guessed that Maude was given, guilty of two murders, or designed to strangle Sylvia. But Maude made use of her to get Deborah out of the house, and it was Maude who made Tray send the letter asking Mrs. Per to come to him, so that she also might be out of the way. In fact, Maude arranged so that everyone should be away in Sylvia alone. If she hadn't wasted time in telling her fearful story, she might have killed my poor love. Sylvia was quite exhausted.

with a struggle. Well, said Hurd, I went with the old woman to the address given in that letter which Trey got written for him. He wasn't there, however, so I might have guessed it was a do. But have you caught him? Yes, in Hunter Street. He was loafing about there at night, waiting for maud and quite ignorant of her death. I made him tell me everything of his connection with the matter. He's as bad a lot as that girl. But she had to be a lot. But she had to be some excuse, seeing her grandmother was a murderess. Trey is nothing but a wicked little imp. Will he be hanged?

No, I think not. His youth will be in his favor. Though I'd hang him, myself, if I had the chance, and so put him beyond the reach of hurting anyone. But I expect he'll get a long sentence. And Mrs. Crill? Mrs. Jessup, you mean? Hmm, I don't know.

She apparently was ignorant that Maude had killed krill, though she might have guessed it after the way in which Lady Rachel was murdered. I dare say she'll get off. I'm going to see her shortly and tell her of the terrible death of her daughter. Paul did not pursue the conversation. He was sick with the horror of the business, and, moreover, was too anxious about Sylvia's health to take much interest in the winding up of the case. That he left in the hands of herd and assured him that the thousand pounds of

reward which mrs krill had offered would be paid to him by miss norman of course pasha had known for some time that maud was too old to have been born to mrs jessup's second marriage with krill but he never knew that the widow had committed bigamy he counted on keeping her under his thumb by threatening the prove that maud was not legally entitled to the money but when the discovery was made at beechill and stowley churches by Miss Quayin, the monkey-faced lawyer could do nothing. Becott could have exposed him, and for his malpractice, have got him struck off the rolls, but he simply punished him by taking away Sylvia's business and given it the Ford. That enterprising young solicitor

speedily placed the monetary affairs on a proper basis and saw that Sylvia was properly reinstated in her rights, seeing that she was the only child, and legal heiress of krill, this was not difficult. The two women who had illegally secured possession of the money had spent a great deal in a very wasteful manner, but the dead man's investments were so excellent and judicious that Sylvia lost comparatively little

and became possessed of nearly 5,000 a year, with a prospect of her income increasing, but she was too ill to appreciate this good fortune. The case got into the papers, and everyone was astonished at the strange sequel to the Gwynne Street mystery. Becott, Sr., reading the papers, learned that Sylvia was once more an heiress, and forthwith held out an olive branch to Paul. Moreover, the frantic old gentleman, as Deborah called him, really began to feel his years, and to feel also that he had treated his only son rather harshly. he magnanimously offered to forgive Paul on no conditions whatsoever.

For the sake of his mother, the young man buried the past, and went down to be received in a stately manner by his father, and with joyful tears by his mother. Also, he was most anxious to hear details of the case which had not been made public. Paul told him everything, and Beacott Sr. snorted with rage. The recital proved too much for Mrs. Beacott, who retired as usual to bed and fortified herself with Sal volatile. But Paul, and his respected parent, sat up till late discussing the matter.

And now, sir, said Becott, Sr., grasping the stem of his wine-glass, as though he intended to hurl it at his son, let us gather up the threads of this infamous case. This atrocious woman who tried to strangle your future wife? She has been buried quietly. Her mother was at the funeral, and so was the father. A pretty pair, gobbled the turkey-cock, growing red. I suppose the government will hang the pair.

No, Captain Jessup can't be touched, has he had nothing to do with the murder, and Sylvia and myself are not going to prosecute him for attempting to get the jewels from Posh. Then you want to. It is a duty you owe to society. Paul shook his head. I think it best to leave things as they are, father, he said mildly,

especially as Mrs. Jessop, much broken in health, because of her daughter's terrible end, has gone back with her husband to live at his house in Stole. What, shouted Beacon, Sr., is that she-devil to go free to? I don't think she was so bad as we thought, said Paul. I fancied she was a thoroughly bad woman, but she really was not. She certainly committed bigamy, but then she thought Jessop was drowned.

When he came to life, she preferred to live with krill, as he had more money than Jessop. And therefore, Jessop, as you say, had free quarters at the red pig. A most immoral woman, sir, most immoral. She ought to be ducked. Poor wretch, said Paul. Her mind has nearly given way under the shock of her daughter's death. She'd loved that child and shielded her from the comely. consequences of killing lady racial. The Sandall family don't want the case revived,

especially as Maude is dead. So Mrs. Jessop, as she is now, can end her days in peace. The government decided to let her go under the circumstances. Tush, said Becott, Sr., sugar-coated pills and idiocy. Nothing will ever be done properly until this government goes out, and it will, striking the table with his fist, if I have anything to do with the matter. So Mrs. Crill, or Jessup, is free to murder, and—' She murdered no one, interposed Paul quickly. She knew that her daughter had killed Lady Racial and shielded her, but she was never sure if Maude had strangled Crill, and she feared to ask her. but as the girl was out all night at the time of the murder mrs jessup i think knows more than she chooses to admit however the treasury won't prosecute her and her mind is now weak let the poor creature end her days with jessup father is there anything else you wish to know

that boy tray he was tried for being an accessory before the crime but his counsel put forward the plea of his age and that he had been under the influence of maud he has been sent to a reformatory for a good number of years he may improve huh grunted the old gentleman and silk purses may be made out of sow's ears but not in our time my boy we'll hear more of that juvenile scoundrel yet now that that blackard hayes he has gone abroad and is likely to remain abroad sandal and tempest kept their word but i think heard put it about that hay was a cheat and a scoundrel poor hay sighed paul he has ruined his career bah he never had one if you pity scoundrels paul what are you to think of good people such as deborah who is nursing my darling i think she's the best woman in the world except your mother paul nearly fell from his seat on hearing this remark becott senior certainly might have been in earnest but his good opinion did not prevent him still continuing to worry mrs becott which he did to the end of her life i suppose that matilda junk creature had nothing to do with a murder as to be caught after an embarrassing pause on his son's part no she knew absolutely nothing and only attacked deborah because she fancied deborah was attacking maud however the two sisters have made it up and matilda has gone back to the red pig she's as decent a creature as deborah in another way and was absolutely ignorant of maud's wickedness.

Heard guessed that when she spoke to him so freely at Christ's church. And the thug? Hokar. Oh, he's not really a thug, but the descendant of one. However, they can't prove that he strangled anything beyond a few cats and dogs when he showed Maude how to use the Ruhmaul.

That's the handkerchief with which thugs strangle their victims. I'm not absolutely ignorant, growled his father. I know that. So this whole car goes free. Yes, he would not strangle Aaron Norman because he had but one eye, and Bawani won't accept maimed persons. Failing him, Maud had to attend to the job herself, with the assistance of Trey. And this detective? Oh, Ford, with Sylvia's sanction, has paid him the thousand,

pounds, which she shares with his sister, Aurora Quinn. But for her searching at Stolley and Beach Hill, we should never have known about the marriage, you know. No, I don't know. They're far too highly paid. The marriage would have come to light in another way. However, waste your own money, if you like, it isn't mine. Nor mine either, father, said Paul sharply.

Sylvia will keep her own fortune. I am not a man to live on my wife. I intend to take a house in town when we are married, and then I'll still continue to write. Without the spur of poverty, you'll never make a hit, grinned the old gentleman. However, you can live wherever you please. It's no business of mine,

but I demand, as your indulgent father, that you'll bring Sylvia down here at least three times a year. Whenever she is well, I want to see her. I'll bring her next week, said Paul, thinking of his mother, but Deborah must come too. She won't leave Sylvia. The house is big enough. Bring Mrs. Talsy also. I'm rather anxious to see her, and Sylvia will be a good companion for your mother.

So matters were arranged in this way, and when Paul returned to town, he went at once to tell Sylvia of the reconciliation. He found her, propped up with pillows. seated by the fire, looking much better, although she was still thin and rather haggard. Deborah hovered around her and spoke in a cautious whisper, which was more annoying than a loud voice would have been. Sylvia flushed with joy when she saw Paul, and flushed still more when she heard the good news. I'm so glad, darling, she said, holding Paul's hand in her thin ones. I should not have liked our marriage to have kept you from your father." Mrs. Tawsey snorted.

He's a frantic paw, she said. Ah, well, when I meet him, if he dares to say a word against my pretty. My father is quite ready to welcome her as a daughter, said Paul quickly. And no poor one either, cried Deborah, triumphantly. Five thousand a year, as that nice young Mr. Ford has told us, is right. lor my lovely queen you'll drive in your chariot and forget debby you foolish old thing said the girl fondly you held me in my troubles and you shall share in my joy ah providing i don't leave the laundry in charge of bart and mrs purr both be an inference of silliness one with gin and other for weakness of brain it is well i made bart promise to love honor and obey me mr beacott the same as you must do to my own lily flower there no i am to love honor and obey paul cried sylvia when he asked taking her in his arms

as soon as i can stand at the altar she replied blushing whereat deborah clapped her hands weddings and weddings and weddings again cried mrs tausie which my sister matilda being weary of her spinstering home have made up her mind to marry the first as offers and won't she lead him in a dance neither oh no not at all well deborah said becott we have much to be thankful for all of us let us try and show her gratitude in our lives ah well you may say that sighed mrs tausie in a devout manner who'd have thought things would have turned out so appy like indeed but you go on with your billin my lovely ones and i'll get the muttoned broth to put color in my prettiest cheeks and she bustled out sylvia's heart was too full to say anything she lay in paul's strong arms her cheek against his there she would remain for the rest of her life protected from storm and tempest and as they sat in silence the chimes of an ancient grandfather clock deborah's chief treasure rang out twice thrice and again paul laughed softly it's like wedding bells he whispered and his future wife sighed a sigh of heartfelt joy end of chapter twenty six end of the opal serpent by fergus hume