Part 29 (1/2)

'Yes, sir. Mr Haddo had called him in several times to see his lady.'

'Where does Dr Richardson live?'

'Why, sir, he lives at the white house near the station.'

She could not make out why Arthur asked these questions.

'Did Mr Haddo go to the funeral?'

'Oh yes, sir. I've never seen anyone so upset.'

'That'll do. You can go.'

Susie poured out the tea and handed a cup to Arthur. To her surprise, he drank the tea and ate some bread and b.u.t.ter. She could not understand him. The expression of strain, and the restlessness which had been so painful, were both gone from his face, and it was set now to a look of grim determination. At last he spoke to them.

'I'm going to see this doctor. Margaret's heart was as sound as mine.'

'What are you going to do?'

'Do?'

He turned on her with a peculiar fierceness.

'I'm going to put a rope round that man's neck, and if the law won't help me, by G.o.d, I'll kill him myself.'

'_Mais, mon ami, vous etes fou_,' cried Dr Porhoet, springing up.

Arthur put out his hand angrily, as though to keep him back. The frown on his face grew darker.

'You _must_ leave me alone. Good Heavens, the time has gone by for tears and lamentation. After all I've gone through for months, I can't weep because Margaret is dead. My heart is dried up. But I know that she didn't die naturally, and I'll never rest so long as that fellow lives.'

He stretched out his hands and with clenched jaws prayed that one day he might hold the man's neck between them, and see his face turn livid and purple as he died.

'I am going to this fool of a doctor, and then I shall go to Skene.'

'You must let us come with you,' said Susie.

'You need not be frightened,' he answered. 'I shall not take any steps of my own till I find the law is powerless.'

'I want to come with you all the same.'

'As you like.'

Susie went out and ordered a trap to be got ready. But since Arthur would not wait, she arranged that it should be sent for them to the doctor's door. They went there at once, on foot.

Dr Richardson was a little man of five-and-fifty, with a fair beard that was now nearly white, and prominent blue eyes. He spoke with a broad Staffords.h.i.+re accent. There was in him something of the farmer, something of the well-to-do tradesman, and at the first glance his intelligence did not impress one.

Arthur was shewn with his two friends into the consulting-room, and after a short interval the doctor came in. He was dressed in flannels and had an old-fas.h.i.+oned racket in his hand.

'I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, but Mrs Richardson has got a few lady-friends to tea, and I was just in the middle of a set.'