The Weathercock Part 54

"Hallo! here's Mr PC. Let's go and ask him if he has any news about the brute who nearly killed poor old Vane."

"No," said Distin, hoa.r.s.ely; "let's wait till he comes out."

"All right," replied Gilmore; and he stood in the gloom beneath the great walnut tree watching the constable go up to the porch, ring, and, after due waiting, enter, his big head, being seen soon after, plainly shown against the study shaded lamp.

"Well, constable," said the rector; "you have news for me?"

"Yes, sir."

"About the a.s.sailant of my poor pupil?"

"Yes, sir, and I should have been here before, only it was Magistrates'

day, and I had to go over to the town to attend a case."

"Well, what have you found out? Do you know who the person was that a.s.sailed Mr Vane Lee?"

"Yes, sir: I'm pretty sure."

"Not some one in this town?"

"Yes, sir."

"Surely not. I cannot think that any one would be so cruel."

"Sorry to say it is so, sir, as far as I know; and I'm pretty sure now."

"But who? We have so few black sheep here, I am thankful to say. Not Tompkins?"

"No, sir."

"Jevell?"

"No, sir, some one much nigher home than that, sir, I'm sorry to say."

"Well, speak, and put me out of my suspense."

"Some one here, sir," said the constable, after drawing a long breath.

"What!"

"Fact, sir. Some one as lives here at the rectory."

"In the name of common sense, man," cried the rector, angrily, "whom do you mean--me?"

"No, sir, that would be too bad," said the constable.

"Whom, then?"

"Your pupil, sir, Mr Distin."

Had a good solid j.a.panese earthquake suddenly shaken down all the walls of the rectory and left the Reverend Morton Syme seated in his easy chair unhurt and surrounded by debris and clouds of dust, he could not have looked more astonished. He stared at the constable, who stood before him, very stiff, much b.u.t.toned up and perfectly unmoved, as a man would stand who feels his position una.s.sailable.

Then quietly and calmly taking out his gold-rimmed spring eye-gla.s.ses, the rector drew a white pocket-handkerchief from his breast, carefully polished each gla.s.s, put them on and stared frowningly at his visitor, who returned the look for a time, and then feeling his position irksome and that it called for a response, he coughed, saluted in military fashion and settled his neck inside his coat collar.

"You seem to be perfectly sober, Bates," said the rector at last.

"Sober, sir?" said the man quickly. "Well, I think so, sir."

"Then, my good man, you must be mad."

The constable smiled.

"Beg pardon, sir. That's just what criminals make a point of saying when you charge 'em. Not as I mean, sir," he added hastily, "that you are a criminal, far from it."

"Thank you, my man, I hope not. But what in the name of common sense has put it into your head that my pupil, Mr Distin, could be guilty of such a terrible deed? Oh, it's absurd--I mean monstrous."

The constable looked at him stolidly, and then said slowly:

"Suck.u.mstarnces, sir, and facks."

"But, really, my good man, I--Stop! You said you had been over to the town and met your chief officer. Surely you have not started this shocking theory there."

"Oh, yes, sir. In dooty bound. I told him my suspicions."

"Well, what did he say?"

The constable hesitated, coughed, and pulled himself tightly together.

"I asked you what your chief officer said, sir."

"Well, sir, if I must speak I must. He said I was a fool."

"Ah, exactly," cried the rector, eagerly. Then, checking himself, he said with a deprecating smile: "No, no, Bates, I do not endorse that, for I have always found you a very respectable, intelligent officer, who has most efficiently done his duty in Greythorpe; and unless it were for your benefit, I should be very sorry to hear of your being removed."

"Thankye, sir; thankye kindly," said the constable.

"But in this case, through excess of zeal, I am afraid you have gone much too far. Mr Lance Distin is a gentleman, a student, and of very excellent family. A young man of excellent attainments, and about as likely to commit such a brutal a.s.sault as you speak of, as--as, well, for want of a better simile, Bates, as I am."

The constable shook his head and looked very serious.

"Now, tell me your reasons for making such a charge."

The explanations followed.

"Flimsy in the extreme, Bates," said the rector triumphantly, and as if relieved of a load. "And you show no more common sense than to charge a gentleman with such a crime solely because you happened to see him walking in that direction."

"Said he wasn't out, sir."