King of the Castle Part 67

"No, sir, no," said Wimble, shaking his head, with his eyes fixed upon his best razor, and his mind upon Mrs Sarson; "you're wrong."

"Why, he was up at our place to see her only last night."

"No!"

"He was, and I ketched him on the hop."

"You don't say so."

"But I do. He owned what he was up there for, poor chap, for the guv'nor was very rough on him at last. I took him for a boy after our fruit."

"Are you talking about last night, when your Master died?" said Wimble, breathlessly.

"Yes, of course."

"Where was he then?"

"Down our garden, on the sly."

Wimble's face was a study.

"It was like this. He didn't know there was company, and he was trying to get a word with Miss Claude; but, of course, she couldn't get to him, because there was Mr Glider and the doctor there."

"Well, you do surprise me, Mr Brime."

"Yes: where would your shilling be now, eh?"

"Well, young folks will be young folks; but I was deceived."

"Yes, you were. Poor chap. He little thought when he left me in low spirits, because he couldn't get to see his la.s.s, how soon his chances were going to mend. Bah! Miss Claude didn't care that for the other one--a mean, sneaking sort of fellow. How the poor guv'nor could have taken to him as he did, I don't know."

"Well, you do surprise me," said Wimble, re-tucking in the cloth which had been disarranged by Brime's "don't care that" and snap of the fingers.

"Yes, I thought I could; but keep it quiet."

"By all means, Mr Brime. Your girl's in sad trouble, I suppose?"

"Crying her eyes out, poor la.s.s. Master was as hard as his own stone; but they had been very fond of each other."

"Yes; and I s'pose he was a good-hearted, generous man underneath. Give away a great deal to the poor."

"Not he, Wimble. There was a deal given away, but it was Miss Claude did all that, bless her. Master--there; I'm not going to say a word again' the dead."

"No, no, of course not, sir; but what trouble you must be in!"

"Trouble, sir! When I heard of it this morning, you might have knocked me down with a feather."

"Hah! very awful really, sir," said Wimble, beginning to lather again, and this time in so thoughtful a manner that the gardener's mouth disappeared in the soapy foam, and the desire for more information seemed to have gone.

"Was Chris Lisle up at the Fort last night? Was our suspicions unjust, then?"

"Then, it must be all on her side," thought Wimble, beginning to strop his razor again fiercely, and he operated directly after with so much savage energy, that the gardener's hands clutched the sides of the chair, and he held on, with the perspiration oozing out upon his forehead, and causing a tickling sensation around the roots of his hair.

"Find it hot, Mr Brime, sir?" said the barber, as he gave a few finishing touches to his patient's chin.

"Very," said the gardener, with a sigh of relief, as the razor was wiped and thrown down, and a cool, wet sponge removed the last traces of the soap; "you went over me so quick, I was afraid of an accident."

"No fear, sir. When a man's shaved a hundred thousand people, he isn't likely to make a mistake. Thank you, sir; and I hope you will get everything settled all right up yonder. When's the funeral?"

"Don't know yet, sir. When the doctors and coroners have done, I suppose."

"Hum!" said Wimble to himself, as he ran over the gardener's words.

"Then, perhaps I have been wrong about him, but I can't be about her.

She wouldn't have held me off all this time if she hadn't had thoughts elsewhere."

He was standing at the door as he spoke, probably meaning to receive more customers after all, for he did not slip the bolt.

"Up there in the garden, last night, to see the young lady, and the next morning Mr Gartram found dead. Well, it's a terrible affair."

Michael Wimble had obtained more information than he had antic.i.p.ated, and of a very different cla.s.s.

END OF VOLUME TWO.

Volume Three, Chapter I.

AN ANGRY ENCOUNTER.

Night, and the tramping of many feet on the granite-paved path and terrace.

The wind from off the sea rushing and sighing round the house, making, as the great hall door was opened, the lightly-hung pictures on the walls swing gently to and fro, as if ghostly hands touched them from time to time.

Claude and Mary were waiting, dressed, in the drawing-room, ready to go to the inquest, and the latter held her cousin's hand tightly as they listened, and in imagination painted, by the help of the sounds, all that was going on.

There were whispers in men's voices, m.u.f.fled footsteps on the thick rugs in the paved hall, with the sharp sound from time to time as a foot fell on the bare granite.

Then came the opening of the study door, and a piteous sigh escaped from Claude's breast as in imagination she saw the darkened room into which the jurymen pa.s.sed one by one, to stay a few moments, and then pa.s.s out.

Then more whispers, more trampling, m.u.f.fled and loud; the closing of the study door; and then the sighing and moaning of the wind ceased suddenly, as the great hall door was shut; voices came more loudly as steps pa.s.sed along the terrace, and grew fainter and fainter as they filed out, and once more the house was still.

Down by the inn, affected most by the fishermen from its proximity to the harbour, the princ.i.p.al part of the inhabitants of the place were gathered, waiting in knots and discussing Gartram's death, till such time as the jury returned. Then a lane was opened for them to pa.s.s through into the great room of the inn, the fishermen crowding in afterwards, while two men drawn, one by summons, the other for reasons of his own, to the inquest, found themselves, by the irony of fate, side by side, and compelled to walk in this way down the long pa.s.sage packed in by the crowd, and upstairs to the room where the inquest was to be held.

Parry Glyddyr had grown more calm and firm as the day had worn on, while Chris had, on the other hand, become more excited; and, finding himself thus thrown close beside his rival, he could not help turning a sharp inquiring look upon him, as if asking what he had to say.

But no word was spoken, and, forced on by the crowd behind, they at last found themselves close up to the head of the table, listening to the coroners words as the various witnesses were examined, a low murmur arising when Claude's name was called, and a way clear made for her to pa.s.s through, and give the little evidence she could as to her father's habits, and then she was led, silently weeping, away.

Sarah Woodham--cold, dark and stern now--was called to speak of her duty in taking to her master his tonic draught, and she could tell of his habit in using a narcotic to produce sleep.

Other witnesses were examined, including both the doctors. As her gravely and deprecatingly stating how he had prescribed for his patient.

The new doctor gave his opinion upon what he had seen; the coroner summed up; and the jury, sworn to do their duty in the inquiry, had no difficulty in unanimously agreeing that it was a case of accidental death, and gradually melting away with the crowd. Glyddyr, one of the last to leave the room, breathing more freely since he had given his evidence relative to seeing Gartram lying asleep, but feeling that he was ghastly pale, and afraid to meet Chris Lisle's eye, as he pa.s.sed out of the inquiry room, and out on to the cliff to let the soft, cool night air fan his cheeks.