The Saint Paul globe. (St. Paul, Minn.) 1896-1905, 1899-04-16
pointing to where it still lay on the top of
the visiting ards


the visiting cards.
Count Solski and the valet both reached
out to take it up, but the counts arm was
the longest in spite of him being the farthest
from the table, and he lifted it. 1.-THE front
OF the card had bloodstain-the mark of
hnger- print on it, and the back was smeared
with dried blood He looked intently at it
for an instant, and then turned to Bellairs,
letting the card fall to the table. The valet
took it up eagerly.
My glove fell on it when waited for Mrs.
Bodgson," said Alured, in answer to the
counts glance. Someone had evidently
dropped it there"
"A strange visiting card" said the count,
in his cold sweet voice. 1T looks as if the.
murderer had left it there in a grim pleas
antry-as if it were Deaths courtesy when
he made a call upon the head of the house
hold" 81
The valet, who had hastily disappeared
from the room, came back just then.
1T belongs to the pack my lords got about
him: It's someone who was playing with
him's done the deed!" he said, excitedly. I'm
my hand hold the clue sirs,' looking at the
two men, and speaking in high voice.
Here's the clue, Mrs. Hodgson-its my lords
blood on the back, and the murders fingers
on the face Of it." thrusting the card under
her eyes.
She shuddered, and pushed him feebly
away. "I-I-aont come near with it. You
know who, did it-you know who did it. You
saw my lord last" she said.
The Wallets face whitened, and he let the
card fall "I-I-didn't do it," he stammereo.
Mrs Hodgson did not say you did, said
the count. There is no need to be so un-
easy, until at least, the enquiry takes place."
II can prove an alib! can prove
alibi!'
my good fellow" the count smiled; don't
excite yourself unnecessarily. But 1 see you
do not like to be thought guilty of the crime,
although you were so ready to suspect this
gentleman of it,
'Oh sirl oh, sir! I never thought so, it was
a wrong way Of putting it, I'm sure, SIR
"Well, perhaps, Mrs. Hodgson has been
equally unfortunate" said the count, quietly.
Shall we go into the library until the doc
tor comes?" be suggested to Bellairs.
Had not the window and door of that room
better be fastened?" asked Bellairs.
"Oh-perhaps so,' and the count went to
fasten them.
81 don't feel all of a tremble so much, SIR
said Mrs. Hodgson. II can manage by myself
now, thank you, sir, and I must see to the
blinds being drawn down, she said to herself
as she left the room
The count came towards Bellairs, putting
the door key into MS coat pocket, and the
two went together into the library.
That it was case of murder and not sui
eide, as the count had suggested, there was
no doubt, for the doctors evidence showed
the impossibility o. a self directed blow be-
ing SO powerfully driven. The weapon itself,
a ortoiseshell-handled bowie knife, gave no
clue to the murderer. for it was a, knife that
Lord .Wildhay himself had been in the habit
of using as within to cut his papers and
magazines, and geneI ally lay at hand on a
table in the in which the deed was
done.
In spite of many suspicious, false clues,
and conflicting statements, not a scrap of
real evidence to convict anyone of the crime
was produced at the inquest, and after much
quarrelling and prolonged stting-for half
the jury had an i'll feeling towards Lord
Wildhay for his long sojourn in foreign
parts, and wished to bring in verdict of
suicide-the verdict was finally given as muir
der against some person or persons unknown.
reward offered for the apprehension
of the criminal, but the crime was SO deeply
wrapped in mystery that it seemed as if
it would never be explained The only clue
of any Importance was the blood-stained Ace
os Spades. How it came to be in the card
tray separated from the pack surrounding
Lord Wildhay, and by whom taken and
placed there, it was found impossible to
guess. Time passed, and the reward was un-
claimed. Gradually. by all who had given it
a thought, the Wdhay murder resolved it
self into one of those unsoved enigmas, the
locks to which are keyless.
CHAPTER ".
Alured Bellairs had been abroad for some
months, and now he was returning home by
Paris to fulfil long-siven promise to be
groomsman to one of his friends, who was
marrying a rich American girl at the British
Embassy.
He had just returned from the wedding
festivities The dawn was breaking, and it
was with feeling of pleasure that he view
ed the prospect of few hours of sleep, for
the preceding day, although it had pleasure
for its end and aim had been fatiguing one,
and the ball following the reception had been
kept up with great spirit until an early hour