The lost clue

by Mrs. O. F. Walton

A MOST CHARMING GIRL

WHEN the autumn came round again, it found little change in Kenneth Fortescue's life, save that he had risen very rapidly in the esteem and confidence of his employers, and had been entrusted with the supervision of their agents in a still larger district.

Nothing, however, took place of a personal interest until the fourteenth of October. It happened to be the anniversary of the day on which Marjorie had come to him the year before, and which would ever be a red-letter day in his life, when he was requested by the head office to travel northwards, that he might investigate the amount of damage caused by a great fire that had taken place in a nobleman's castle, which was very heavily insured in his company.

Eagleton Castle was a most ancient building, filled with countless heirlooms of olden times. The picture gallery was hung with paintings by the famous artists of many successive generations; the grand staircase was of carved oak; several of the palatial rooms were wainscoted; whilst the great fireplaces were surrounded by exquisite carvings, the work of some forgotten genius, long since dead, who had left behind him these beautiful trophies of his skill.

These old mansions are exceedingly picturesque, and lend themselves to the work of the artist and the photographer, providing them with subjects for some of their best and most taking pictures, but they are oftentimes extremely unsafe. The builders of olden time, in spite of the roaring fires which in those days blazed nightly on the hearth, built the wide chimneys with little regard to the necessity for care in the matter of fire.

An old beam, in the near neighbourhood of one of the chimneys in Eagleton Castle, had become ignited; the fire had smouldered on for hours, completely hidden from sight, and unperceived by the large household of the castle. But in the middle of the night, a gale arising and blowing down the wide chimney shaft, had caused the smouldering fire to burst into a blaze; the floor of an adjoining room had been caught by it, and when the Earl and his household were at length aroused the fire was becoming serious.

Fire engines were at once summoned by telephone, and were soon on the spot; the servants were soon hard at work clearing the rooms in the vicinity of the fire; the numerous guests, headed by the Earl himself, carried out armful after armful of valuable heirlooms and piled them on the lawn in front of the castle; the firemen worked on manfully, but several hours passed before the flames were extinguished.

The damage done to the building was great; several ancient rooms were destroyed; but the most serious loss, in the Earl's estimation, was that of many of the works of art in the picture gallery. Some of these were family portraits, dating back for many centuries, and the loss of which could never be replaced. No amount of money could bring the dead earls out of their graves to be painted afresh; no compensation from the insurance company could ever restore to the Earl of Derwentwater those much-prized and valuable mementos of his long line of ancestors.

Still, whatever compensation could be afforded, in addition to the cost of those articles which it was possible to replace, would have to be supplied by the company in which the Earl had insured for many years; and the head office, knowing the capability and thorough trustworthiness of Mr. Fortescue, had requested him to personally visit Eagleton Castle, that he might report to headquarters as to what would be the probable extent of their liability.

It was for the purpose of making these investigations, that Kenneth Fortescue stood on one of the platforms at New Street waiting for the northern express. As he was looking at the signals and watching the line, he suddenly felt a hand on his arm.