 Part 1, Chapter 14, of Madame Midas. This Libravox recording is in the public domain. Madame Midas by Fergus Hume. Part 1, Chapter 14, A Mysterious Disappearance Madame Midas, as may be easily guessed, did not pass a very pleasant night after the encounter with Villiers. Her head was very painful with the blow he had given her, and added to this she was certain she had killed him. Though she hated the man who had ruined her life and who had tried to rob her, still she did not care about becoming his murderous, and the thought was madness to her. Not that she was afraid of punishment, for she had only acted in self-defense, and Villiers, not she, was the aggressor. Meanwhile she waited to hear if the body had been found. The ill news travels fast, and as everyone knew Villiers was her husband, she was satisfied that when the corpse was found she would be the first to be told about it. But the day wore on, and no news came, so she asked Archie to go into Ballarat, and see if the discovery had been made. Deedman said Archie in a consoling tone, I'm thinking there's no word at all. Maybe he only stabbed his pranks for a wee bit, and he's a right. Madam shook her head. I gave him such a terrible blow, she said mournfully, and he fell like a stone over the embankment. He didn't leave go the nugget on her. Yikin said Archie dryly, so he couldn't have been very far gone, but I'll gang in till town and see what I can hear. There was no need for this, however, for just as Macintosh got to the door, Vanderloop, cool and complacent, sorted in, but stopped short at the sight of Mrs Villiers, sitting in the armchair looking so ill. My dear Madam, he cried in dismay, going over to her. What is the matter with you? Matterer now, growled Macintosh, with his hand on the door handle. That deal of a husband, of hers, has robbed her of the nugget. Yes, and I killed him, said Madam, between her clenched teeth. The juice she did, said Vanderloop, in surprise, taking a seat. Then he was the liveliest dead man I ever saw. What do you mean, asked Madam, leaning forward, with both hands gripping the arms of her chair. Is he alive? Of course he is, begun Vanderloop. I, but there he was stopped by a cry from Selina, for her mistress had fallen back in her chair in a dead of faint. Hastily waving for the men to go away, she applied remedies and Madam soon revived. Vanderloop had gone outside with Macintosh, and was asking him about the robbery, and then told him in return about Villiers' movements on that night. Selina called the men again, as Madam wanted to hear all about her husband, and Vanderloop was just entering when he turned to Macintosh. Oh, by the way, he said, in a vexed tone, Pierre will not be at work today. What for no? asked Macintosh sharply. He's drunk, replied Vanderloop curtly, and he's likely to keep the game up for a week. We'll see about that, said Macintosh, breathfully. I told John, go at Wexby to give them food and drink, but I didn't tell him to make the deal for you. It wasn't the landlord's fault, said Vanderloop. I gave Pierre money. If I had known what he wanted it for, I wouldn't have done it, but it's too late now. Macintosh was about to answer sharply, as to the folly of giving the man money, when Madam's voice was heard calling them impatiently, and they both had to go in at once. Mrs Villiers was ghastly pale, but there was a look of determination about her, which showed that she was anxious to hear all. Pointing to a seat near herself, she said to Vanderloop, Tell me everything that happened from the time I left you last night. My faith, replied Vanderloop carelessly, taking the seat. There isn't much to tell. I said good-bye to Montsew and Marchhurst and Madam as Elkitty, and went down to Ballarat. How was it you did not pass me on the way? asked Madam, quickly fixing her piercing eyes on him. I drove slowly. He bore a scrutiny, without blenching or even changing colour. Easily enough, he said calmly, I went the other direction, instead of the usual way, as it was the shortest route to the place I was stopping at. The wattle tree, you kin, Madam, interposed Macintosh. I had something to eat there, pursued Vanderloop, and then went to the theatre. Your husband came in towards the end of the performance, and sat next to me. Was he all right? asked Mrs Villiers eagerly. Vanderloop shrugged his shoulders. I didn't pay much attention to him, he said coolly. He seemed to enjoy the play. And afterwards, when we went to supper with the actors, he certainly ate very heartily for a dead man. I don't think you need trouble yourself, Madam. Your husband is quite well. What time did you leave him? she asked, after a pause. About twenty minutes to twelve, I think, replied Vanderloop, at least. I reached the wattle tree at about twelve o'clock, and I think it did take twenty minutes to walk there. Monsue Villiers stopped behind with the theatre people to enjoy himself. Enjoying himself, and she, thinking him dead, was crying over his miserable end. It was infamous. Was this man a monster, who could thus commit a crime one moment, and go to an amusement the next? It seemed like it, and Mrs Villiers felt intense disgust towards her husband, as she sat with tightly clenched hands and dry eyes, listening to Vanderloop's recital. Well, said Mr McIntosh, at length, rubbing his scanty hair, the deal looks after his own, as we read in Scripture, and this child at the Lile is flourishing like a green-bow tree by money-waters. But we must cut it down and lay an axe at the root thereof. And how do you propose to chop him down, asked Vanderloop flippantly? Put him in till the toll-booth for running away with the nugget, retorted Mr McIntosh vindictively. A very sensible suggestion, said Gaston approvingly, smoothing his moustache. What do you say, madam? She shook her head. Let him keep his ill-gotten gains, she said residedly. Now that he has attuned what he wanted, perhaps he'll leave me alone. I will do nothing. Dar nothing, echoed Archie, in great wrath. Will you let that friend of Belle's above run away with the three hundred ounce of gold and dar nothing? Na-na! You mannered Dar it, I tell you. Oh, I! You may sit there, ma'am, and glower away like a boggle, but you aren't a-gaggin' to make yourself a martyr for Yon. Keep the nugget. I'll see him damned first. This was the first time that Archie had ever dared to cross Mrs Villiers' wishes, and she stared in amazement at the unwanted spectacle. This time, however, McIntosh found an unexpected ally in Vanderloop, who urged that Villiers should be prosecuted. He is not only guilty of robbery, madam, said the young Frenchman, but also of an attempt to murder you, and while he is allowed to go free, your life is not safe. Selena also contributed her might of wisdom in the form of a proverb. A stitch in time saved nine, intimating thereby that Villiers should be locked up and never let out a game in case he tried the same game on with the next big nugget found. Madam thought for a few moments, and seeing that they were all unanimous, she agreed to the proposal that Villiers should be prosecuted, with the stipulation, however, that he should be first written to and asked to give up the nugget. If he did, and promised to leave the district, no further steps would be taken, but if he declined to do so, his wife would prosecute him with the uttermost rigor of the law. Then madam dismissed them, and she was anxious to get a little sleep, and Vanderloop went to the office to write the letter, accompanied by McIntosh, who wanted to assist in its composition. Meanwhile, there was another individual in Valorat, who was much interested in Villiers, and this kind-hearted gentleman was none other than Slippers. Villiers was accustomed to come and sit in his office every morning, and talk to him about things in general, and the patchless claim in particular. On this morning, however, he did not arrive, and Slippers was much annoyed there at. He determined to give Villiers a piece of his mind when he did see him. He went about his business at the corner, bought some shares, sold others, and swindled as many people as he was able, then came back to his office and waited in all afternoon for his friend, who, however, did not come. Slippers was just going out to seek him when the door of his office was violently flung open, and a tall, raw-bone female entered in a very excited manner. Dressed in a dusty black gown with a craped bonnet placed a skew on her rough hair, this lady banged on Slippers' table a huge umbrella, and demanded where Villiers was. I don't know, snapped Slippers viciously, how the devil should I? Don't swear at me, you wooden-legged little monster, cried the varago, with another bang at the umbrella, which raised such a cloud of dust that it nearly made Slippers sneeze his head off. He ain't been home all night, and you've been leading him into bad habits. You cork-armed Libertine, hasn't been home all night, eh? said Slippers, sitting up quickly, while Billy, who had been considerably alarmed at the gaunt female, retired to the fireplace and tried to conceal himself up the chimney. May I ask who you are? You may, said the angry lady, folding her arms and holding the umbrella in such an awkward manner, that she nearly poked Slippers' remaining eye out. Well, who are you, snapped Slippers crossly, after waiting a reasonable time for an answer and getting none? I'm his lame lady, retorted the other, with the defiant snort. Matilda Cheadle is my name, and I don't care who knows it. It's not a pretty name, snapped Slippers, prodding the ground with his wooden leg, as he always did when angry. Neither are you, what do you mean by banging into my office like an insane giraffe? This in allusion to Mrs. Cheadle's height. Oh, go on, go on, said that lady defiantly. I've heard it all before. I'm used to it. But here I sit, until you tell me where my lodger is. And, suiting the action to the word, Mrs. Cheadle sat down in a chair with such a bang, that Billy gave a screech of alarm, and said, Pickles! Pickles, you little bag of bones, cried Mrs. Cheadle, who thought that the word had proceeded from Slippers. Don't you call me Pickles. But I'm used to it. I'm a lonely woman, since Cheadle went to the cemetery, and I'm always being insulted. Oh, my nerves are shattered under such treatment. This lasts because she saw the whiskey bottle on the table, and thought she might get some. Slippers took the hint, and filling a glass with whiskey and water, passed it to her. And Mrs. Cheadle, with many protestations, that she never touched spirits, drunk it to the last drop. Was Billy as always in the habit of coming home, he asked. Always, replied Mrs. Cheadle, he's been with me 18 months, and never stopped out one night. He had, grimly, I'd have known the reason of his rain pageant. Strange, said Slippers thoughtfully, fixing Mrs. Cheadle with his one eye. When did you see him last? About three o'clock yesterday, said Mrs. Cheadle, looking sadly at a hole in one of her cotton gloves. His conduct was most extraordinary. He came home at that unusual hour, changed his linen clothes for a dark suit, and, after he had eaten something, put on another hat, and walked off with a stick under his arm. And you've never seen him since. Not a blessed sight of him, replied Mrs. Cheadle. You don't think any harms come to him, sir? Not as I care much for him, the drunken wretch, but still he's a lodger and owes me rent, so I don't know but what he might be off to Melbourne without pain, and leaving his boxes full of bricks behind. I'll have a look around, and if I see him I'll send him home, said Slippers, rising to intimate the interview was at an end. Very well, mind you do, said the widow, rising and putting the empty glass on the table. Send him home at once, and I'll speak to him. And perhaps, with a bashful glance, you wouldn't mind seeing me up the street a short way, as I'm alone and unprotected. Stop, retorted Slippers, ungraciously. There's plenty of light, and you are big enough to look after yourself. At this Mrs. Cheadle snorted loudly, like a war horse, and flounced out of the office in a rage, after informing Slippers in a loud voice that he was a selfish, cork-eyed little viper, from which confusion of words it will easily be seen that the whiskey had taken effect on the good lady. When she had gone, Slippers locked up his office, and salad forth to find the missing villagers, but though he went all over town to that gentleman's favourite haunts, mostly bars, yet he could see nothing of him, and on making inquiries heard that he had not been seen in Ballarat all day. This was so contrary to Villiers' general habits that Slippers became suspicious, and as he walked home thinking over the subject, he came to the conclusion there was something up. If, said Slippers, pausing on the pavement and addressing a street lamp, he doesn't turn up tomorrow, I'll have a look for him again. If that don't do, I'll tell the police, and I shouldn't wonder, went on Slippers musingly, I shouldn't wonder if they called on Madame Midas. This Libravox recording is in the public domain. Madame Midas by Fergus Hume. Part 1 Chapter 15 Slippers in search of evidence Slippers was puzzled over Villiers' disappearance, so he determined to go in search of evidence against Madame Midas, though for what reason he wanted evidence against her, no one but himself, and perhaps Billy knew. But then Slippers always was an enigma regarding his reasons for doing things, and even the Spinks would have found him a difficult riddle to solve. The reason he had for turning detective was simply these. It soon became known that Madame Midas had been robbed by her husband of the famous nugget, and great was the indignation of everyone against Mr. Villiers. That gentleman would have fared very badly if he had made his appearance, but for some reason or another he did not venture forth. In fact, he had completely disappeared, and where he was no one knew. The last person who saw him was Barty Jarper, who left him at the corner of Lydard and Sturt Street, when Mr. Villiers had announced his intention of going home. Mrs. Cheadle, however, asserted positively that she had never said eyes on him since the time she stated to Slippers, and as it was now nearly two weeks since he had disappeared, things were beginning to look serious. The generally received explanation was that he had bolted with the nugget, but as he could hardly dispose of such a large mess of gold without suspicion, and as the police, both in Ballarat and Melbourne, had made inquiries, which proved futile, this theory began to lose ground. It was at this period that Slippers asserted himself. Coming forward, he hinted in an ambiguous sort of way that Villiers had met with foul play, and that some people had their reasons for wishing to get rid of him. This was clearly an insinuation against Madam Midas, that everyone refused to believe such an impossible story, so Slippers determined to make good his words and went in search of evidence. The Wapples family having left Ballarat, Slippers was unable to see Mr Theodore Wapples, who had been in Villiers' company on the night of his disappearance. Mr Bartijapa, however, had not yet departed, so Slippers waylaid him and asked him in a casual way to drop into his office and have a drink with the view of finding out from him all the events of that night. Bartijapa was on his way to a lawn-tennis party and was arrayed in a plain old suit of many colours, with his small white face nearly hidden under a large straw hat. Being of a social turn of mind, he did not refuse Slippers' invitation, but walked into the dusty office and assisted himself liberally to the whiskey. He is fun, ol' cock, he said, in a free and easy manner, raising his glass to his lips, may your shadow never be less. Slippers hoped devoutly that his shadow never would be less, as that would involve the loss of several other limbs, which he could ill spare, so he honoured Mr Jarper's toast with a rasping little laugh and prepared to talk. It's very kind of you to come and talk to an old chap like me, said Slippers, in as amiable a tone as he could command, which was not much. You're such a gay young fellow. Mr Jarper acknowledged modestly that he was gay, but that he owed certain duties to society and had to be mildly social. And so handsome croaked Slippers, winking with his one eye at Billy, who sat on the table. Oh, he's all there, ain't he, Billy? Billy, however, did not agree to this, and merely observed pickles in a disbelieving manner. Mr Jarper felt rather overcome by this praise and blushed in a modest way, but felt that he could not return the compliment with any degree of truth, as Slippers was not handsome, neither was he all there. He, however, decided that Slippers was an unusually discerning person and worthy to talk to, so prepared to make himself agreeable. Slippers, who had thus gained the goodwill of the young man by flattery, plunged into the subject of Billy's disappearance. I wonder what's become of Billy, as he said, artfully pushing the whiskey bottle toward Barty. I'm sure I don't know, said Barty in a languid, used up sort of voice, pouring himself out some more whiskey. I haven't seen him since last Monday week. Where did you leave him on that night, asked Slippers, at the corner of Sturt and Lydard Streets. Early in the morning, I suppose? Yes, pretty early, about two o'clock, I think, and you never saw him after that. Not a sight of him, replied Barty, but I say, why all this fuss-ness? I'll tell you, after you have answered my questions, retorted Slippers rudely, but I'm not asking out of curiosity its business. Barty thought that Slippers was very peculiar, but determined to humour him and to take his leave as early as possible. Well, go on, he said, drinking his whiskey, I'll answer. Who else was with you and Villiers on that night, asked Slippers in a magisterial kind of manner, a French fellow called Vanderloop. Vanderloop echoed Slippers in surprise. Oh, indeed, what the devil was he doing? Enjoying himself, replied Barty coolly, he came into the theatre and Villiers introduced him to me. Then Mr Waffles asked us all to suffer. You went, of course. Rather, old chap, what do you take us for? This from Barty, with a knowing wink. What time did Vanderloop bleep ask Slippers, not paying any attention to Barty's pantomime? About twenty minutes to twelve. Oh, I suppose that was because he had to drive out to the patchless. Not such a feel, dear boy, he stayed all night in town. Oh, ejaculated Slippers in an excited manner, drumming on the table with his fingers. Where did he stay? At the Wattle Tree Hotel. Slippers mentally made a note of this and determined to go there and find out at what time Vanderloop had come home on the night in question. For this suspicious old man had now got it into his head that Vanderloop was in some way responsible for Villiers' disappearance. Where did Villiers say he was going when he left you? He asked. Straight home. Well, he didn't go home at all. Didn't he echo Barty in some astonishment? Then what's become of him? Men don't disappear in this mysterious way for some reason. Ah, but there is a reason, replied Slippers, bending across the table and clawing at the papers thereon with the lean fingers of his one hand. Why, what do you think is the reason? Faulted Barty, letting his eyeglass drop out of his eye and edging his chair further away from this terrible old man. Murder hissed the other through his thin lips. He's been murdered. Lord, ejaculated Barty, jumping up from his chair in alarm. You're going too far, old chap. I'm going further, retorted Slippers, rising from his chair and stumping up and down the room. I'm going to find out who did it and then I'll grind her to powder. I'll twist her neck off, curse her. Is it a woman, asked Barty, who now began to think of making a retreat for Slippers with his one eye blazing and his cork arm swinging rapidly to and fro, was not a pleasant object to contemplate? This unguarded remark recalled Slippers to himself. That's what I want to find out, he replied, soulfully, going back to his chair. Have some more whiskey. No thanks, answered Barty, going to the door. I'm late as it is for my engagement. Ta-da, old chap. I hope you'll drop on the he or she you're looking for, but you're quite wrong. Filias has bolted with the nugget, and that's a fact, sir, and with an eerie wave of his hand Barty went out, leaving Slippers in anything but a pleasant temper. Bah, you peacock. Cried this wicked old man, banging his wooden leg against the table. You eyeglass idiot. You brainless puppy. I'm wrong, am I? We'll see about that. You rag shop. Dislust in allusion to Barty's picturesque garb. I found out all I want from you, and I'll crack her down and put her in jail and hang her. I'll bring her till she's as dead as a doornail. Having given vent to this pleasant sentiment, Slippers put on his hat, and, taking his stick, walked out of his office, but not before Billy saw his intention and had climbed up to his accustomed place on the old man's shoulder. So Slippers stumped along the street with the cockatoo on his shoulder, looking like a depraved Robinson cruiser, and took his way to the Wattle Tree Hotel. If argued, Slippers to himself, as he pegged bravely along, if Billy is wanted to get rid of the nugget, he'd have come to me, for he knew I'd keep quiet and tell no tales. Well, he didn't come to me, and there's no one else he could go to. They'd been looking for him all over the shop, and they can't find him. He can't be hiding, or he'd have let me know. There's only one explanation. He's been murdered, but not for the goal, oh dear no, for nobody knew he had it. Who wanted him out of the way? He's white. Would she stick at anything? I'm damned if she would. So it's her work. The only question is, did she do it personally or by deputy? I'd say deputy, because she'd be too squeamish to do it herself. Who would she select as deputy? Banderloot. Why? Of course, he'd like to marry her for her money. Yes, I'm sure it's him. Things look black against him. He stayed in town all night, a thing he never did before. Leaves the supper at a quarter to twelve, so as to avoid suspicion. Waits till Billy has come out in the morning and kills him. Aha! My handsome Jack and Andy cried slivers viciously, suddenly stopping and choking his dick at an imaginary Banderloot. I've got you under my thumb and I'll crush the life out of you, and of her also if I can. And with this amiable resolution Slivers resumed his way. Slivers' argument was plausible, but there were plenty of flaws in it, which, however, he did not stop to consider, so carried away was he by his anger against Madame Midas. He stumped along dodgably, revolving the whole affair in his mind, and by the time he arrived at the Wattle Tree Hotel he had firmly persuaded himself that Billy is was dead and that Banderloot had committed the crime at the instigation of Mrs Villiers. He found Miss Twexby seated in the bar with a decidedly cross face, which argued ill for anyone who held converse with her that day. But as Slivers was quite as crabbed as she was, and moreover, feared neither God nor man, much less a woman, he tackled her at once. Where's your father? he asked abruptly, leaning on his stick and looking intently at the fair Martha's vinegary countenance. As sleep snapped that damesle, jerking her head in the direction of the parlor. What do you want? very disdainfully. A little civility in the first place retorted Slivers rudely, sitting down on a bench that ran along the wall and thereby causing his wooden leg to stick straight out, which being perceived by Billy, he descended from the old man's shoulder and turned the leg into a perch where he sat and swore at Martha. You wicked old wretch, said Miss Twexby viciously, her nose getting redder with suppressed excitement, go along with you and take that irreligious parrot with you or I'll wake my part. He won't thank you for doing so, replied Slivers coolly, I've called to see him about some new shares just on the market and if you don't treat me with more respect I'll go and he'll be out of a good thing. Now Miss Twexby knew that Slivers was in the habit of doing business with her parent and moreover was a power in the share market so she did not deem it diplomatic to go too far and bottling up her wrath for a future occasion when no loss would be involved. She graciously asked Slivers what he'd be pleased to have. Whisky, said Slivers curtly, leaning his chin on his stick and following her movements with his one eye. I say, well, asked Miss Twexby, coming from behind the bar with a glass and a bottle of whiskey. What do you say? How's that good-looking Frenchman, asked Slivers, pouring himself out some liquor and winking at her in a rakish manner with his one eye. How should I know? snapped Martha angrily. He comes here to see that friend appears and then clears out without as much as a good day. A nice sort of friend indeed, wrathfully, stopping here nearly two weeks and drunk all the time. He'll be having delirious trimmings before he's done. Who will, said Slivers, taking a sip of his whiskey and water? Why, that utter Frenchman retorted Martha going to her place behind the bar. Peter's something, a low black wretch, all beard with no tongue and a thirst like a lime kiln. Oh, the dumb man, Miss Twexby nodded. That's him, she said triumphantly. He's been here for the last two weeks. Drunk, I think you said, remarked Slivers politely. Martha laughed scornfully and took out some sewing. I should just think so, she retorted, tossing her head. He does nothing but drink all day and run after people with that knife. Very dangerous, observed Slivers, gravely shaking his head. Why don't you get rid of him? So we are, said Miss Twexby, fighting off a bit of cotton, as if she wished it were Pierre's head. He's going down to Melbourne the day after tomorrow. Slivers got weary of hearing about Pierre and plunged right off into the object of his visit. That thanderloot, he began. Well, said Miss Twexby, letting the work fall on her lap. What time did he come home the night he stopped here? Twelve o'clock. Get along with you, said Slivers in disgust. You mean three o'clock? No, I don't, retorted Martha indignantly. You'll be telling me I don't know the time next. Did he go out again? No, he went to bed. This quite upset Slivers' idea, as if the thanderloot had gone to bed at twelve. He certainly could not have murdered Villiers nearly a mile away at two o'clock in the morning. Slivers was puzzled, and then the light broke on him. Perhaps it was the dumb man. Did the other stay here all night also? Miss Twexby nodded. Both in the same room, she answered. What time did the dumb chap come in? Half past nine. Here was another face of the Slivers, as it could not have been Pierre. Did he go to bed? Straight. And did not leave the house again? Of course not, retorted Miss Twexby impotently. Do you think I'm a fool? No one goes either in or out of this house without my knowing it. The dumb devil went to bed at half past nine, and missed the thanderloot at half past twelve, and neither of them came out of their rooms till next morning. How do you know thanderloot was in at twelve? Are Slivers still unconvinced? Rat, the man. What's he worrying about? Rudeo and Miss Twexby snappishly. I let him in myself. This clearly closed the subject, and Slivers arose to his feet in great disgust, upsetting Billy onto the floor. Devil, shrieked Billy as he dropped. Oh, my precious mother. Devil, devil, devil. You're a liar, you're a liar. Bendigo and Ballarat, Ballarat and Bendigo, pickles. Having thus run through a portion of his vocabulary, he subsided into silence, and let Slivers pick him up in order to go home. A nice pair you are, muttered Martha grimly, looking at them. I wish I had that thrashing of you. Won't you stay and see Pa? She called out as Slivers departed. I'll come tomorrow, answered Slivers angrily, for he felt very much out of temper. Then, in a lower voice, he observed to himself, I'd like to put that jade in a teacup and crush her. He stumped home in silence, thinking all the time, and it was only when he arrived back in his office that he gave utterance to his thoughts. It couldn't have been either of the Frenchmen, he said, lighting his pipe. She must have done it herself. End of Part 1, Chapter 15 Part 1, Chapter 16, of Madame Midas This Libravox recording is in the public domain. Madame Midas by Fergus Hume. Part 1, Chapter 16. Macintosh speaks his mind. It was some time before Mrs. Villiers recovered from the shock caused by her encounter with her husband. The blow he had struck her on the side of the head turned out to be more serious than was at first anticipated, and Selena deemed it advisable that a doctor should be called in. So Archie went in to Ballarat and returned to the Pactulas with Dr. Golipek, an eccentric medical practitioner whose peculiarities were the talk of the town. Dr. Golipek was tall and lank, with an unfinished look about him, as if nature in some sudden freak had seized an incomplete skeleton from a museum and hastily covered it with parchment. He dressed in rusty black, wore dingy cotton gloves, carried a large white umbrella, and surveyed the world through the medium at the pair of huge spectacles. His clothes were constantly coming undone as he scorned the use of buttons and preferred pins, which were always scratching his hands. He spoke very little and was engaged in composing an erudite work on the art of poisoning from Borgia to Bryn Villiers. Selena was not at all impressed with his appearance and mentally decided that a good wash and a few buttons would improve him wonderfully. Dr. Golipek, however, soon verified the adage that appearances are deceptive, as Selena afterwards remarked to Archie by bringing Madame Midas back to health in a wonderfully short space of time. She was now convalescent and seated in the armchair by the window, looked dreamily at the landscape. She was thinking of her husband and in what manner he would annoy her next, but she half-thought and the wish was fathered to the half-thought that, having got the nugget, he would now leave her alone. She knew that he had not been in Bellarat since that fatal night when he had attacked her, but imagined that he was merely hiding till such time as the storm should blow over and he could enjoy his ill-gotten gains in safety. The letter asking him to give up the nugget and ordering him to leave the district under threat of prosecution had been sent to his lodgings, but was still lying there unopened. The letters accumulated in quite a little pile as weeks rolled on, yet Mr. Villiers, if he was alive, made no sign and if he was dead, the traces had been found of his body. Macintosh and Slippers had both seen the police about the affair, one in order to recover the nugget, the other actuated by bitter enmity against Madame Midas. To Slippers' hints that perhaps Villiers' wife knew more than she chose to tell, the police turned a deaf ear as they assured Slippers that they had made inquiries and on the authority of Selena and Macintosh could safely say that Madame Midas had been home that night at half-past nine o'clock, whereas Villiers was still alive in Ballarat as could be proved by the evidence of Mr. Jarper at two o'clock in the morning. So foiled on every side in his endeavours to implicate Mrs. Villiers in her husband's disappearance, Slippers retired to his office and assisted by his ungodly cockatoo passed many hours in squaring at his bad luck and in cursing the absent Villiers. As to Monsue of Vanderlooth, he was indefatigable in his efforts to find Villiers, for as he very truly said, he could never repay Madame Midas sufficiently for a kindness to him, and he wanted to do all in his power to punish her cruel husband. But in spite of all this seeking the whereabouts of Mr. Randolph Villiers remained undiscovered and at last, in despair, everyone gave up looking. Villiers had disappeared entirely and had taken the nugget with him so where he was and what he was doing remained a mystery. One result of Madame's illness was that Monsue of Vanderlooth had met Dr. Golly Peck and the two, though apparently dissimilar in both character and appearance, had been attracted to one another by a liking which they had in common. This was the study of toxicology, a science at which the eccentric old man had spent a lifetime. He found in Vanderlooth a congenial spirit, for the young Frenchman had a wonderful liking for the uncanny subject, but there was a difference in the aims of both men. Golly Peck being drawn to the study of poisons from the pure love of the subject, whereas Vanderlooth wanted to find out the secrets of toxicology for his own ends, which were anything but disinterested. Where he did the dumb routine at the office work, Vanderlooth was taking a walk in the meadows which surrounded the patchless when he saw Dr. Golly Peck shuffling along the dusty white road from the railway station. Good day, Monsue Lee Medicine, said Vanderlooth Gailey. As he came up to the old man, are you going to see our mutual friend? Golly Peck, even spearing of words, nodded in reply and trunched on in silence, but the Frenchman, being used to the eccentricities of his companion, was no-wise offended at his silence, but went on talking in an animated manner. Ah, my dear friend, he said, pushing his straw hat back on his fair head. How goes on the great work? Capitally returned the doctor with a complacent smile, just finished. Catherine de Medici, wonderful woman, so quite a mistress at the art of poisoning. Huh, returned Vanderlooth thoughtfully, lighting a cigarette. I do not agree with you there. It was her so-called astrologer, Raghiri, who prepared all her potions. Catherine certainly had the power but Raghiri possessed the science, a very fair division of labour for getting rid of people. I must say. But what have you got there? Knodding towards a large book, which Golly Peck carried under his arm. See you, answered the other, taking the book slowly from under his arm and thereby causing another button to fly off. Quite new. Work on toxology. Thank you, said Vanderlooth, taking the heavy volume and looking at the title. French, I see. I'm sure it will be pleasant reading. The title of the book was Les Inpoisonnaires, D'Ageordi, Pa, M.M. Prévol, at Lébrun and it had only been published the previous year. So as he turned over the leaves carelessly, Monsue of Vanderlooth caught sight of a name which he knew. He smiled a little and closing the book, put it under his arm, while he turned smilingly towards his companion, whom he found looking keenly at him. I shall enjoy this book immensely, he said, touching the volume. Dr. Golly Peck nodded and chuckled in a horse-rattling kind of way. So I should think, he answered, with another sharp look, you are a very clever young man, my friend. Vanderlooth acknowledged the compliment with a bow and wondered mentally what this old man meant. Gaston, however, was never without an answer, so he turned to Golly Peck again with a nonchalant smile on his handsome lips. So kind of you to think well of me, he said, coolly flicking the ash of the end of his cigarette with his little finger, but why do you pay me such a compliment? Golly Peck answered the question by asking another, why are you so fond of toxicology, he said abruptly, shuffling his feet in the long dry grass in which they were now walking in order to rub the dust of his ungainly ill-blackened shoes. Vanderlooth shrugged his shoulders. To past the time, he said carelessly, that is all, even off his work, exciting as it is, becomes wearisome, so I must take up some subject to amuse myself. Curious taste for a young man, remarked the doctor dryly. Nature, said Montseua Vanderlooth, does not form men all on the same pattern, and my taste of toxicology has at least the charm of novelty. Golly Peck looked at the young man again in a sharp manner. I hope you'll enjoy the book, he said abruptly, and vanished into the house. When he had gone, the mocking smile so habitual to Vanderlooth's countenance faded away, and his face assumed a thoughtful expression. He opened the book and turned over the leaves rapidly, but without finding what he was in search of. With an uneasy laugh, he shut the volume with a snap and put it under his arm again. He's an enigma, he thought, referring to the doctor, but he can't suspect anything. The case may be in this book, but I doubt if even this man with a barbarous name can connect Gaston Vanderlooth of Ballarat with Octave Braulard of Paris. His face reassured its usual gay look, and throwing away the half-smoked cigarette, he walked into the house and found Madame Midas seated in her armchair near the window, looking pale and ill, while Archie was walking up and down in an excited manner and talking voluble in broad scotch. As to Dr. Gullerpeck, that eccentric individual was standing in front of the fire, looking even more dilipidated than usual, and drying his red bandana handkerchief in an abstract manner. Selena was in another room, getting a drink for Madame, and as Vanderlooth entered, she came back with it. Good day, Madame, said the Frenchman, advancing to the table and putting his hat and the book down on it. How are you today? Better, much better, thank you, said Madame, with a faint smile. The doctor assures me I shall be quite well in a week, with perfect rest and quiet, of course, in to pose Gullerpeck, sitting down and spreading his handkerchief over his knees. Which Madame does not seem likely to get, observed Vanderlooth dryly, with a glance at Macintosh, who was still pacing up and down the room with an expression of wrath on his severe face. Oh, how, said that gentleman, stopping in front of Vanderlooth, with a fine expression of scorn, I can will, tis me ye are glowering, a dive ye no king, what's the matter with me? Not being in your confidence, replied Gaston smoothly, taking a seat, I can hardly say that I do. It's just that, Peter, are yours, said Archie, with a snort, a pure, wet, unbaptised child, a Satan. Archie, in to pose Madame, with some severity. Your pardon's beg, ma'am, said Archie, soundly turning to her, but as for that Peter body, the Lord keep me tongue for swearing, and my hand from itching to give him on the lug, when I think of him. What's he been doing, asked Vanderlooth coolly, I'm quite prepared to hear anything about him in his present state. It's just this, burst forth Archie breathfully, I went in till the town to the hotel, to tell the body he must come back to the mine, and I find him no inner fit state for a Christian to speak to. Therefore, in to pose Vanderlooth, in his even voice, without lifting his eyes, it was a pity you did speak to him. I ganged to the room, went on Archie excitedly, without paying any attention to Vanderlooth's remark, and the deal flew on me with a derp, and would have split my weasel, but I had the sense to bang the door too, and turn the key in the lock. I thought they conduct with a civilised body. The fact is, Monsue Vanderlooth said Madame quietly, Archie is so annoyed at this conduct, that he does not want Lamar to come back to work. Mars 30. I should just think so, cried Macintosh, rubbing his head with his handkerchief, fancy an imp at beasel bump, like Dion, in the bowels of the earth, lot, but it makes my blood run, and I think of the bloodthirsty pagan. To Vanderlooth, this information was not unpleasant. He was anxious to get rid of Pierre, who was such an incubus, and now saw that he could send him away, without appearing to wish to get rid of him. But as he was a diplomatic young man, he did not allow his satisfaction to appear on his face. Aren't you rather hard on him, he said coolly, leaning back in his chair. He is simply drunk, and will be all right soon. I tell you, I'll no have him back, said Archie firmly. His own are they foreign bodies full of revolutions, and confusion of tongues, and I'd no feel safe in the mine, if I can, that devil was done below with his dirk. I really think he ought to go, said Madame, looking rather anxiously at Vanderlooth, unless, once you were Vanderlooth, you do not want to part with him. Oh, I don't want him, said Vanderlooth hastily. As I told you, he was only one of the sailors onboard the ship I was wrecked in, and he followed me up here, because I was the only friend he had. But now he has got money, or at least his wages must come to a good amount. Forty pounds into posed Archie. So I think the best thing he can do is to go to Melbourne, and see if he can get back to France. And you, once you were Vanderlooth, asked Dr Golly Peck, who had been listening to the young Frenchman's remarks with great interest. Do you not wish to go to France? Vanderlooth rose coolly from his chair, and picking up his book and hat turned to the doctor. My dear Monsieur, he said, leaning up against the wall in a graceful manner. I left France to see the world, so until I have seen it, I don't think it would be worthwhile to return. Never go back when you have once put your hand to the plough, observed Selena, opportunally upon which Vanderlooth bowed to her. Madame Moselle, he said quietly, with a charming smile, has put the matter into the shell of a nut. Australia is my plough, and I do not take my hand away until I have finished with it. But that deal of Peter said Archie impatiently, If you will permit me, Madame, said Vanderlooth, I will write out a check for the amount of money due to him, and you will sign it. I will go into Ballarat tomorrow, and get him away to Melbourne. I propose to buy him a box and some clothes, as he certainly is not capable of getting them himself. You have a kind heart, Monsue Vanderlooth, said Madame, as she assented with a nod. A stifled laugh came from the doctor, but as he was such an extremely eccentric individual, no one minded him. Come, Monsue, said Vanderlooth, going to the door, let us be off to the office, and see how much is due to my friend, and with a bow to Madame, he went out. A broad sort of friend muttered Archie as he followed. Quite good enough for him, retorted Dr. Gollipeck, who overheard him. Archie looked at him approvingly, nodding his head, and went out after the Frenchman, but Madame, being a woman and curious, asked the doctor what he meant. His reply was peculiar. Our friend, he said, putting his handkerchief in his pocket, and seizing his greasy old hat. Our friend believes in the greatest number. And what is the greatest number, asked Madame innocently. Number one retorted the doctor, and took his leave abruptly, leaving two buttons and several pins on the floor, as traces of his visit. End of Part 1, Chapter 16. Part 1, Chapter 17, of Madame Midas. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Madame Midas, by Thurgus Hume. Part 1, Chapter 17. The best of friends must part. Union is strength, and if Dr. Gollipeck had only met slivers and revealed his true opinion of Vanderloop to him, no doubt that clever young man would have found himself somewhat embarrassed, as a great deal of a man's past history can be found out by the simple plan of putting two and two together. Fortunately, however, for Gaston, these two gentlemen never met, and Gollipeck came to the conclusion that he could see nothing to blame in Vanderloop's conduct, though he certainly mistrusted him, and determined mentally to keep an eye on his movements. What led him to be suspicious was the curious resemblance of the appearance of this young man had to that of a criminal described in the lay impersoners Dior Diornhyu, as having been transported to New Caledonia for the crime of poisoning his mistress. Everything, however, was vague and uncertain, so Dr. Gollipeck, when he arrived home, came to the above-named conclusion that he would watch Vanderloop, and then dismissing him from his mind went to work on his favourite subject. Meanwhile, Monsour Vanderloop slept the sleep of the just, and next morning, after making his inquiries after the health of Madame Midas, a thing he never neglected to do, he went into Ballarat in search of Pierre. On arriving at the Wattle Tree Hotel, he was received by Miss Twexby in dignified silence. For that astute domesel was beginning to regard the fascinating Frenchman as a young man who talked a great deal and meant nothing. He was audacious enough to win her virgin heart and then break it, so Miss Twexby thought the wisest thing would be to keep him at a distance. So Vanderloop's bright smiles and merry jokes failed to call forth any response from the fair Martha, who sat silently in the bar, looking like a crabbed spince. Is my friend Pierre in? asked Vanderloop, leaning across the counter and looking lovingly at Miss Twexby. That lady intimated coldly that he was in and had been for the last two weeks, also that she was sick of him, and she thanked Monsour Vanderloop to clear him out, all of which amused Vanderloop mightily, though he still continued to smile coolly on the sour-faced domesel before him. Would you mind going and telling him I want to see him? he asked, lounging to the door. Me, shrieked Martha in a shrill voice, shooting up from behind the counter like an infuriated jack in the box. No, I shut. Why, the last time I saw him, he nearly cut me like a hand sandwich with that knife of his. I am not pursued, Miss Twexby furiously, a loaf of bread to be cut, neither am I a pincushion to have things stuck into me, so if you want to be a corpse you'd better go up yourself. I hardly think he'll touch me, replied Vanderloop coolly, going towards the door, which led to Pierre's bedroom. You've had a lot of trouble with him, I'm afraid, but he's going down to Melbourne tonight, so it will be all right. And the bill, queried Miss Twexby anxiously. I will pay it, said Vanderloop, at which he was going to say he was very generous, but suppressed the compliment when he added, out of his own money. Gaston, however, failed to persuade Pierre to accompany him round to buy an outfit, for the dumb man lay on his bed and obstinately refused to move out of the room. He, however, acquiesced sullenly when his friend told him he was going to Melbourne, so Vanderloop left the room, having first secured Pierre's knife and locked the door after him. He gave the knife to Miss Twexby, with injunctions to her to keep it safe, then salad forth to buy his shipwreck friend, a box and some clothes. He spent about ten pounds in buying an outfit for the dumb man, hired a cab to call at the Wattle Tree Hotel at seven o'clock to take the box and its owner to the station. And then, feeling he had done his duty and deserved some recompense, he had a nice little luncheon and a small bottle of wine for which he paid out a Pierre's money. When he finished, he bought a choice cigar, had a glass of chartreuse, and after resting in the commercial room for a time, he went out for a walk, intending to call on slivers and Dr. Gollipeck and, in fact, do anything to kill time until it would be necessary for him to go to Pierre and take him to the railway station. He walked slowly up Sturt Street and, as the afternoon was so warm, thought he would go up to Lake Wenderie, which is at the top of the town and see if it was any cooler by the water. The day was oppressively hot, but not with the bright, cheery warmth of the summer's day, for the sun was hidden behind great masses of angry-looking clouds and it seemed as if a thunderstorm would soon break over the city. Even Vanderloop, full of life and animation as he was, felt weighed down by the heaviness of the atmosphere and feeling quite exhausted when he arrived at the lake, he was glad enough to sit down on one of the seats for a rest. The lake under the black sky was a dull, leaden hue, and as there was no wind, the water was perfectly still. Even the trees all round it were motionless, as there came no breeze to stir their leaves, and the only sounds that could be heard were the dull croaking of the frogs amid the water grasses and the shrill cries of children playing on the green turf. Every now and then a steamer would skim across the surface of the water in an airy manner, looking more like a child's crockwork toy than anything else, and Vanderloop, when he saw one of these arrive at the little pier, almost expected to see a man put in a huge key to the paddle wheels and wind it up again. On one of the seats Vanderloop aspired a little figure in white, and seeing that it was kitty, he strolled up to her in a leisurely manner. She was looking at the ground when he came up and was prodding holes in the spongy turf with her umbrella, but glanced up carelessly as he came near. Then she sprung up with a cry of joy, and throwing her arms around his neck, she kissed him twice. I haven't seen you for ages, said kitty, putting her arm in his as they sat down. I just came up here for a week and did not think I'd see you. The meeting was quite accidental, I know, replied Gaston, leaning back lazily, but nonetheless pleasant on that account. Oh no, said kitty, gravely shaking her head, unexpected meetings are always pleasanter than those arranged, for there's never any disappointment about them. Oh, that's your experience, is it? answered her lover, with an amused smile, pulling out his cigarette case. Well, suppose you reward me for my accidental presence here and light a cigarette for me? Kitty was, of course, delighted and took the case while Monsieur Vandaloup leaned back in the seat, his hands behind his head and stared reflectively at the leaden coloured sky. Kitty took out a cigarette from the case, placed it between her pretty lips and, having obtained a match from one of her lover's pockets, proceeded to light it, which was not done without a great deal of choking and pretty confusion. At length she managed it, bending over Gaston, placed it in his mouth and gave him a kiss at the same time. If Pa knew I did this, he'd expire with horror, she said, sagely nodding her head. Wouldn't be much loss if he did, replied Vandaloup lazily, glancing at her pretty face from under his eyelashes. Your father has a great many faults, dear. Oh, the elect, thinking perfect, said Kitty wisely. From their point of view, perhaps he is, returned Gaston, with a faint sneer, that is not a man given to exuberant mirth. Well, he is rather dismal, assented Kitty doubtfully. Wouldn't you like to leave him and lead a jolly life, asked Vandaloup artfully, in Melbourne, for instance? Kitty looked at him half afraid. I—I don't know, she faltered, looking down. But I do, baby, whispered Gaston, putting his arm round her waist. You would like to come with me. Why, are you going? cried Kitty in dismay. Vandaloup nodded. I think I spoke about this it all, he said, idly brushing some cigarette ash of his waistcoat. Yes, returned Kitty, but I thought you did not mean it. I never say anything I do not mean, answered Vandaloup, with the ready lie on his lips in a moment. And I have got letters from France with money, so I am going to leave the patchless. And me, said Kitty tearfully. That depends upon yourself, baby, he said rapidly, pressing her burning cheek against his own. Your father would never consent to my marriage, and I can't take you away from Ballarat without suspicions. So, yes, said Kitty eagerly, looking at him. You must run away, he whispered, with a caressing smile, alone. For a time, yes, he answered, throwing away his cigarette. Listen, next week you must make me here, and I will give you money to keep you in Melbourne for some time. Then you must leave Ballarat at once, and wait for me at the Buttercup Hotel in Gertrude Street, Carpenter, you understand? Yes, faulted Kitty nervously, I understand. And you will come, he asked anxiously, looking keenly at her, and pressing the little hand he held in his own. Just as she was going to answer, as if warning her of the fatal step she was about to take, a low roll of thunder broke on their ears, and Kitty shrank back appalled from her lover's embrace. No, no, no, she almost shrieked, hysterically, trying to tear herself away from his arms. I cannot, God is speaking. Bah, snared Vanderloop, with an evil look on his handsome face, he speaks too instinctively for us to guess what he means. What are you afraid of? I will join you in Melbourne in two or three weeks, and then we will be married. But my father, she whispered, clasping her hot hands convulsively. Well, what of him? Asked Vanderloop Cooley. He is so wrapped up in his religion that he will not miss you. He will never find out where you are in Melbourne. And by the time he does, you will be my wife. Come, he said ardently, whispering the temptation in her ear, as if he was afraid of being heard. You must consent, say yes, baby, say yes. She felt his hot breath on her cheek and felt rather than saw the skintillations of his wonderful eyes, which sent a thrill through her, so utterly exhausted and worn out by the overpowering nervous force possessed by this man she surrendered. Yes, she whispered, clinging to him with dry lips and a beating heart, I will come. Then her overstrained nature gave way and with a burst of tears she threw herself on his breast. Gaston let her sob quietly for some time, satisfied with having gained his end and knowing that she would soon recover. At last, Kitty grew calmer and, drying her eyes, she rose to her feet, as if she was worn out for the want of sleep and not by any manner of means, looking like a girl who was in love. This appearance was caused by the revolt of her religious training against doing what she knew was wrong. In her breast a natural instinct had been fighting against an artificial one and as nature is always stronger than precept, nature had conquered. My dear baby, said Vanderloop, rising also and kissing her white cheek, you must go home now and get a little sleep, it will do you good. But you, asked Kitty in a low voice as they walked slowly along. Oh, I, said Monsue or Vanderloop, eerily, I'm going to the Wattle Tree Hotel to see my friend Pierre off to Melbourne. Then he exerted himself to amuse Kitty as they walked down to town and succeeded so well that by the time they reached Lydard Street where Kitty left him to go up to Blackhill she was laughing as merrily as possible. They parted at the railway crossing and Kitty went gaily up the white dusty road while Monsue or Vanderloop strolled leisurely along the street on his way to the Wattle Tree Hotel. When he arrived he found that Pierre's box had come and was placed outside his door as no one had been brave enough to venture inside although Miss Twexby assured them he was unarmed showing the knife as a proof. Gaston however dragged the box into the room and having made Pierre dress himself in his new clothes he packed all the rest in a box, courted it and put a ticket on it with his name and destination then gave the dumb man the balance of his wages. It was now about six o'clock so Vanderloop went down to dinner then putting Pierre and his box into the cab stepped in himself and drove off. The promise of rain in the afternoon was now fulfilled and it was pouring in torrents. The gutters were rivers and every now and then through the driving rain came the bluish dart of a lightning flash. Bah! said Vanderloop with a shiver as they got out on the station platform what a devil of a night. He made the cab wait for him and having got Pierre's ticket he came in his second class carriage and saw that his box was safely placed in the luggage van. The station was crowded with people going and others coming to say goodbye. The rain was beating on the high arched tin roof and the engine at the end of the long train was fretting and fuming like a living thing impatient to be gone. You are now on your own responsibility my friend said Vanderloop to Pierre as he stood at the window at the carriage for we must part, though long together have we been. Perhaps I will see you in Melbourne if I do you will find I have not forgotten the past and with a significant look at the dumb man Vanderloop lounged slowly away. The whistle blew shrilly the last goodbyes were spoken the guards shouted all aboard the Melbourne and shut all the doors then with another shriek and puff of white steam the train like a long lift serpent glided into the rain and darkness with its human freight. At last I have rid myself of this dead weight said Vanderloop as he drove along the wet streets to Craves Hotel where he intended to stay for the night and can now shape my own fortune. Pierre is gone Bibi will follow and now I must look after myself. End of Part 1 Chapter 17 Part 1 Chapter 18 of Madame Midas this Libravox recording is in the public domain Madame Midas by Fergus Hume Part 1 Chapter 18 Monsieur Vanderloop is unjustly suspected it never rains but it pours is an excellent proverb and a very true one for it is a remarkable how events of a similar nature follow closely on one another's heels when the first that happened has set the ball a rolling. Madame Midas believed to a certain extent in this and she half expected that when Pierre went he would be followed by Monsieur Vanderloop but she certainly did not think that the disappearance of her husband would be followed by that of Kitty Marchhurst. Yet such was the case for Mr Marchhurst not seeing Kitty at family prayers had sent in the servant to seek the her and the scared domestic had returned with the startled face and a letter for her master. Marchhurst read the tear-blotted little note in which Kitty said she was going down to Melbourne to appear on the stage. Crushing it up in his hand he went on with family prayers in his usual manner and after dismissing his servants for the night he went up to his daughter's room and found that she had left nearly everything behind only taking a few needful things with her. Seeing her portrait on the wall he took it down and placed it in his pocket then searching through her room he found some ribbons and lace a yellow back novel which he handled without most loathing and a pair of gloves. Regarding these things as the instruments of Satan by which his daughter had been led to destruction he carried them downstairs to his dismal study and piled them in the empty fireplace. Placing his daughter's portrait on top he put a light to the little pile of frivolities and saw them slowly burn away. The novel curled and cracked in the scorching flame but the filmy lace vanished like cobwebs and the gloves crackled and shrank into mere wisps of black leather and overall through the flames her face bright and charming looked out with lumpy lips and merry eyes so like her mother's and yet so unlike in its perquaint grace until that too fell into the hollow heart of the flames and burned slowly away into a small pile of white ashes. Marchirst leaving the dead ashes cold and grey in the dark fireplace went to his writing table and falling on his knees he passed the rest of the night in prayer. Meanwhile the man who was the primary cause of all this trouble was working in the office of the patchless claim with a light heart and cool head. Gaston had really managed to get Kitty away in a very clever manner in as much as he never appeared publicly to be concerned in it but directed the whole business secretly. He had given Kitty sufficient money to keep her for some months in Melbourne as he was in doubt when he could leave the patchless without being suspected of being concerned in her disappearance. He also told her what day to leave and all that day stayed at the mine working at his accounts and afterwards spent the evening pleasantly with Madame Midas. Next day Macintosh went into Valorat on business and on returning from the city where he had heard all about it rumour of course, magnifying the whole affair greatly he saw Vandaloupe come out of the office and drew up in the trap beside the young man. Ah, Montseua said Vandaloupe gaily rolling a cigarette in his slender fingers and shooting a keen glance at Archie you have had a pleasant day. Maybe yes, maybe no returned Macintosh cautiously thumbing in the bag there's nothing muckle in the town but deal tack the bag he continued, tetrally shaking it I've got a letter or so from France for me cried Vandaloupe gaily holding out his hands and for who else would it be grumbled Archie giving the letter to him a thin, foreign-looking envelope with the Parisian postmark on it did you think it was for that black advised friend of yours hardly returned Vandaloupe glancing at the letter with satisfaction and putting it in his pocket Pierre couldn't write himself and I doubt very much if he had any friends who could not that I knew his friends he said hastily catching sight of Macintosh's severe face bent inquiringly on him but like always draws to like Archie's only answer to this was a grunt a year no gain to read on he asked Sally not a present replied Vandaloupe blowing a thin wreath of blue smoke by and by will do scandal and oysters should both be fresh to be enjoyable but letters are up bar with a shrug they can wait come tell me the news anything going on well said Macintosh with great gusto deliberately flicking a fly of the horses back with a whip she's taken the bit into her mouth and gone rain as I said she would to what special she are you alluding to ask Vandaloupe lazily smoothing his moustache so many of them go wrong you see one likes to be particular the lady's name is Catherine Marchhurst no less burst forth Archie in triumph she's run away to be a play actor what that child said Vandaloupe with an admirable expression of surprise nonsense I can't be true do you think I would tell Ali said Archie wrathfully glowering down on the tall figure pacing leisurely along God forbid that my lips should for to say an equity it's true I tell you the last has run away and left her father a godly mon though I'm no of his way of thinking to curse the day he had sicker been born until him art is sorrow and dual she had brought to his roof tree and sorrow and dual will be her portion of the hands of strangers and with the scriptural ending Macintosh sharply with Duff Rory and went on towards the stable leaving Vandaloupe standing in the road I don't think he suspects at all events thought that young man complacently as tomato Midas poof I can settle her suspicions easily a little virtuous indignation is most effective as a blind and Montseua Vandaloupe with a gay laugh strolled on towards the house in the gathering twilight suddenly he recollected the letter which had escaped his thoughts in his desire to see how Macintosh would take the disappearance of Kitty so as there was still a light to see he leaned up against the fence and having lighted another cigarette read it through carefully it appeared to afford him considerable satisfaction and he smiled as he put it in his pocket again it seems pretty well forgotten this trouble about Adele he said amusingly as he resumed he sought her I might be able to go back again in a few years if not to Paris at least to Europe one can be very happy in Monaco or Vienna and run no risk of being found out and after all he muttered thoughtfully fingering his moustache why not to Paris the Republic has lasted too long already sooner or later there will be a change of government and then I can go back a free man with a fortune of Australian gold Emperor King or President it's all the same to me as long as I am left alone he walked on slowly thinking deeply all the time and when he arrived at the door of Mrs Villiers house this clever young man with his accustomed promptitude and decision had settled what he was going to do up to a certain point of course he said aloud following his thoughts after that chance must decide madam modest was very much grieved at the news of kitty's escapade particularly as she could not see what motive she had for running away and moreover tremble to think of the temptations the innocent girl would be exposed to in the metropolis after tea when Archie had gone outside to smoke his pipe and Selena was busy in the kitchen washing the dishes she spoke to Vanderloop on the subject the young Frenchman was seated at the piano in the darkness striking a few random chords while madam was by the fire in the armchair it was quite dark with only the rosy glow of the fire shining through the room Mrs Villiers felt uneasy wasn't likely that Vanderloop could have any connection with Kitty's disappearance impossible he had given her his word of honor and yet it was very strange Mrs Villiers was not by any means a timid woman so she determined to ask Gaston right out and get a decided answer from him so as to set her mind at rest Monsieur Vanderloop she said in her clear voice will you kindly come here a moment certainly madam said Gaston rising with alacrity from the piano and coming to the fireside is there anything I can do you have heard of Miss Marchhurst's disappearance she asked looking up at him Vanderloop leaned his elbow on the mantelpiece and looked down into the fire so that the full blaze of it could strike his face he knew madam Midas prided herself on being a reader of character and knowing he could command his features admirably he thought it would be politic to let her see his face and satisfy herself as to his innocence yes madam he answered in his calm even tones looking down inquiringly at the statuesque face of the woman addressing him Montseua nodding towards the door told me but I did not think it true I'm afraid it is side madam shaking her head she's going on the stage and her father will never forgive her surely madam begun Vanderloop eagerly no she replied decisively he's not a hard man but his way of looking at things through his peculiar religious ideas has warped his judgment he will make no attempt to save her and God knows what she will come to they are good women on the stage said Vanderloop at a loss for a reply certainly return madam calmly there are black and white sheep in every flock the kitty is so young and inexperienced that she may become the prey at the first handsome scoundrel she meets madam had intuitively guessed the whole situation and Vanderloop could not help admiring her cleverness still his face remained the same and his voice was as steady as ever as he answered it is much to be regretted but still we must hope for the best was he guilty madam could not make up her mind so determined to speak boldly do you remember that day I introduced her to you Vanderloop out and you gave me your word of honor you would not try to turn her head pursued madam looking at him have you kept your word madam said Vanderloop gravely I give you my word of honor that I have always treated madam as Zell kitty as a child and your friend I did not know that she had gone until I was told and whatever happens to her I can safely say that it was not Gaston Vanderloop's fault an admirable actor this man not a feature of his face moved not a single deviation from the calmness of his speech not a quickening of the pulse nor the rush of betraying blood to his fair face no madam withdrew her eyes quite satisfied months you were Vanderloop was the soul of honor and was innocent of kitty's disgrace thank God she said reverently as she looked away for she would have been bitterly disappointed to have found her kindness to this man repaid by base treachery towards her friend I cannot tell you how relieved I feel once you were Vanderloop withdrew his face into the darkness and smiled in a devilish manner to himself how these women believed was there any lie too big for the sex to swallow evidently not at least so he thought but now the kitty was disposed on he had to attend to his own private affairs and put his hand in his pocket for the letter I wanted to speak to you on business madam he said taking out the letter the long expected has come at last you have heard from Paris asked madam in an eager voice I have answered the Frenchman calmly I have now the letter in my hand and as soon as madam herself Selena brings in the lights I will show it to you at this moment as if in answer to his request Selena appeared with the lamp which she had lighted in the kitchen and now brought in to place on the table when she did so and had retired again Vanderloop placed his letter in madam's hand and asked her to read it oh no Montseua said Mrs. Villiers offering it back I do not wish to read your private correspondence Vanderloop had calculated on this for as a matter of fact there was a good deal of private matter in the letter particularly referring to his trip to New Caledonia which he would not have allowed her to see but he knew it would inspire her with confidence in him if he placed it wholly in her hands and resolved to boldly venture to do so the result was as he guessed so with a smile he took it back again there is nothing private in it madam he said opening the letter I wanted you to see that I had not misrepresented myself it is from my family lawyer and he has sent me out of remittance of money also some letters of introduction to my console in Melbourne and others in fact said Montseua Vanderloop with a charming smile putting the letter in his pocket it places me in my rightful position and I shall assume it as soon as I have your permission but why my permission asked madam with the faint smile already regretting bitterly that she was going to lose her pleasant companion madam said Vanderloop impressively bending forward in the words of the Bible when I was hungry you gave me food when I was naked you gave me Raymond you took me on madam an unknown way without money friends or a character you believed in me when no one else did you have been my guardian angel and do you think that I can forget your goodness to me for the last six months no madam rising I have a heart and while I live that heart will ever remember you with gratitude and love and bending forward he took her hand and kissed her gallantly you think too much of what I have done said madam who was nevertheless pleased at this display of emotion I'll bet according to her English ideas it seemed to save the too much of the footlights I only did to you what I would do to all men I am glad in this instance to find my confidence has not been misplaced when do you think of leaving us in about two or three weeks answered Vanderloop carelessly but not till you find another clerk besides madam do not think you have lost sight of me forever I will go down to Melbourne settle all my affairs and come up and see you again so you say replied mrs. Villiers skeptically smiling well replied months you were Vanderloop with a shrug we will see at all events gratitude is such a rare virtue that there is decided novelty in possessing it months you were Vanderloop said madam suddenly after they had been chatting for a few moments one thing you must do for me in Melbourne I will do anything you wish said Vanderloop gravely then said madam earnestly rising and looking him in the face you must find kitty and send her back to me madam said Vanderloop solely it will be the purpose of my life to restore her to your arms end of part one chapter 18 part one chapter 19 at madam Midas the slipper box recording is in the public domain madam Midas by Fergus Hume part one chapter 19 the devil's lead there was great dismay at the patchless mine when it became known that Vanderloop was going to leave during his short stay he had made himself extremely popular with the men as he always had a bright smile and a kind word for everyone so they all felt like losing a personal friend the only two who were unfanningly glad at Vanderloop's departure were Selena and McIntosh for these two faithful hearts had seen with dismay the influence the Frenchman was gradually gaining over madam Midas as long as Villiers lived they felt safe but now that he had so mysteriously disappeared and was to all appearances dead they dreaded lest their mistress in a moment of infatuation should marry her clerk they need not however had been afraid for much as Mrs. Villiers like the young Frenchman such an idea had never entered her head and she was far too clever a woman ever to tempt matrimony a second time seeing how dearly it had cost her madam Midas had made great efforts to find Kitty but without success and in spite of all her inquiries and advertisements in the papers nothing could be discovered regarding the missing girl at last the time drew near for Vanderloop's departure when all the sensation of Kitty's escapade and Villiers disappearance was followed up in a new event which filled Ballarat with wonder it began in a whisper and grew into such a roar of astonishment that not only Ballarat but all Victoria knew that the far-themed devil's lead had been discovered in the patchless claim yes after years of weary waiting after money had been followed up in apparently useless work after skeptics had sneered and friends laughed madam Midas obtained her reward the devil's lead was discovered and she was now a millionaire for some time past Macintosh had not been satisfied with the character of the ground in which he had been working so abandoning the shaft he was then in he had opened up another gallery to the west at right angles from the place where the famous nugget had been found the wash was poor at first that Macintosh persevered having an instinct that he was on the right track a few weeks work proved that he was right for the wash soon became richer and as they went farther on towards the west following the gutter it was no doubt that the wrong lost devil's lead had been struck the regular return had formerly been five ounces to the machine but now the washing up invariably gave 20 ounces and small nuggets of water worn gold were continually found in the three machines the main drive following the lead still continued dipping westward and Macintosh now commenced blocking and putting inside galleries expecting when this was done he would thoroughly prove the devil's lead that he was quite satisfied he was on it even now the yield was three hundred and sixty ounces a week and after deducting working expenses this gave Madame Midas a weekly income of one thousand one hundred pounds so she now began to see what a wealthy woman she was likely to be everyone unfanningly rejoiced at her good fortune and said that she deserved it many thought that now she was so rich Philias would come back again but he did not put in an appearance and it was generally concluded he had left the colony Vanderloop congratulated Madame Midas on her luck when he was going away and privately determined that he would not lose sight of her as being a wealthy woman and having a liking for him she would be a great use he took his fair well gracefully and went away carrying the good wishes of all the miners that Macintosh and Selena still holding to their former opinion were secretly pleased at his departure Madame Midas made him a present of a hundred pounds and though he refused it saying that he had money from France she asked him as a personal favoured to take it so Monsieur Vanderloop always gallant to ladies could not refuse he went into Ballarat and put up at the Wattletree Hotel intending to start for the metropolis next morning but on his way in order to prepare Kitty for his coming sent a telegram for her telling her the train he would arrive by in order that she might be at the station to meet him after his dinner he suddenly recollected that he still had the volume which Dr. Golopec had lent him so calling a cab he drove to the residence at that eccentric individual to return it when the servant announced Monsieur Vanderloop she pushed him in and suddenly closed the door after her as though she was afraid of some of the doctor's ideas getting away good evening doctor said Vanderloop laying the book down on the table at which Golopec was seated I've come to return you this and say goodbye aha going away asked Golopec leaning back in his chair and looking sharply at the young man through his spectacles right see the world your cover won't go far wrong no it doesn't matter much if I do replied Vanderloop shrugging his shoulders and taking a chair nobody will bother much about me a queried the doctor sharply sitting up Paris friends relations my only relation is an art with a large family she's got quite enough to do looking up to them without bothering about me retorted Montseau of Vanderloop as to friends I haven't got one oh from Golopec with a cynical smile I see let us say acquaintances won't make any difference replied Vanderloop early I turned my acquaintances into friends long ago and then borrowed money often result my social circle is nil friends went on Montseau of Vanderloop reflectively are excellent as friends but damn and all as bankers goly peck chuckle and rubbed his hands for this cynicism pleased him suddenly his eye caught the book which the young man had returned you read this he said laying his hand on it good a very good indeed return Montseau of Vanderloop smoothly so kind of you to have lent it to me all those cases quoted were known to me the case of Adele blondette for instance a asked the old man sharply yes I was present at the trial replied Vanderloop quietly the prisoner Octave Brawler was convicted condemned to death reprieved and sent to New Caledonia where he now is said Golo peck quickly looking at him I presumed so replied Vanderloop lazily after the trial I never bothered my head about him he poisoned his mistress Adele blondette said the doctor yes answered Vanderloop leaning forward and looking at Golo peck he found she was in love with an Englishman and poisoned her you will find it all in the book it does not mention the Englishman said the doctor thoughtfully tapping the table with his hand nevertheless he was implicated in it but went away from Paris the day Brawler was arrested answered Vanderloop the police tried to find him but could not if they had it might have made some difference to the prisoner and the name of this Englishman let me see said Vanderloop looking up reflectively I almost forget it Kestrope or Kestrike some name like that he must have been a very clever man to have escaped the French police aha said the doctor rubbing his nose very interesting indeed strange case very assented Montseua Vanderloop as he arose to go I must say goodbye now doctor but I am coming up to Ballarat on a visit shortly aha of course replied Golo peck also rising and we can have another talk over this book that or any book you'd like said Vanderloop with a glance of surprise but I don't see why you are so much taken up with that volume it is not a work of genius well no answered Golo peck looking at him still it contains some excellent cases of modern poisoning so I saw when I read it returned Vanderloop indifferently goodbye holding out his hand or rather I should say or a bar wine queried the doctor hospitably Vanderloop shook his head and walked out at the room with a gay smile humming a tune he strove slowly down Lidard Street turning over in his mind what the doctor had said to him he is suspicious muttered the young man to himself thoughtfully although he has nothing to go on in connecting me with the case should I use the poison here I must be careful for that man will be my worst enemy he felt a hand on his shoulder and turning round saw Barty Jarper before him that fashionable young man was in evening dress and represented such an extent of shirt front and white waistcoat not to mention at all collar on the top of which his little head was perched like a coconut on a stick that he was positively resplendent where are you going to ask the gorgeous party slurping his incipient moustache well I really don't know answered Vanderloop lighting a cigarette I am leaving for Melbourne tomorrow morning but tonight I have nothing to do you I see are engaged with a glance at the evening dress yes return Barty in a bald voice musical party on they want me to sing Vanderloop had heard Barty's vocal performance and could not forebear a smile as he thought of the young man's three songs with the same accompaniment to each suppressing however his inclination to laugh he asked Barty to have a drink which invitation was promptly accepted and they walked in search of a hotel on the way they pass slipper's house and here Vanderloop paused this was the first house I entered here he said to Barty and I must go in and say goodbye to my one-armed friend with the cockatoo mr. Japa however drew back I don't like him he said bluntly he's an old devil oh it's always as well to a custom oneself to the society of devils retorted Vanderloop coolly we may have to live with them constantly some day Barty laughed at this and putting his arm in that at Vanderloop's they went in slipper's door stood a jar in its usual hospitable manner but all within was dark he must be out said Barty as they stood in the dark passage no replied Vanderloop feeling for a match someone is talking in the office it's that parrot said Barty with a laugh as they heard Billy rapidly running over his vocabulary let's go in he pushed open the door and was about to step into the room when catching sight of something on the floor he recoiled with a cry and caught Vanderloop by the arm what's the matter asked the Frenchman hastily he's dead returned Barty with the sword of gas see he's lying on the floor dead and so he was the oldest inhabitant of Ballarat had joined the great majority and as it was afterwards discovered his death was caused by the breaking of a blood vessel the cause of it was not clear but the fact was that hearing of the discovery of the devil's lead and knowing that it was lost to him forever slivers had fallen into such a fit of rage that he burst a blood vessel and died in his office with no one by him the light of the street lamp shone through the dusty windows into the dark room and in the center of the yellow splash lay the dead man with his one eye wide open staring at the ceiling while perched on his wooden leg which was sticking straight out sat the parrot swearing it was a most repulsive sight and Barty with a shutter of disgust tried to drag his companion away but Montseuf of Vanderloop refused to go and searched his pockets for a match to see more clearly what the body was like pickles cried Billy from his perch on the dead man's wooden leg oh my precious mother devil take him my faith said Montseuf of Vanderloop striking a match the devil has taken him and leaving Barty shivering and trembling at the door he advanced into the room and still looking at the body Billy at his approach hopped off the leg and waddled up to the dead man's shoulder where he sat cursing voluble and every now and then going into shrieks of demonical laughter Barty closed his ears to the devilish move and saw Montseuf of Vanderloop standing over the corpse with the faint light of the match flickering in his hand do you know what this is he asked turning to Barty the other looked at him inquiringly it is the comedy of death said the Frenchman throwing down the match and going to the door they both went out to seek assistance and left the dark room with the dead man lying in the pool of yellow light and the parrot perched on the body muttering to itself it was a strange mingling of the horrible and grotesque and the whole scene was hit off in the phrase applied to it by Vanderloop it was indeed the comedy of death end of part one chapter 19