Part 28 (1/2)

William Roper was very angry. This was not to be borne. Indeed, if John Pittaway were right, and there was to be no trial, where was his dramatic and impressive appearance at it? He had better be dramatic and impressive now.

”Who said as they were goin' to try Jim 'Utchings? I never did,” he growled. ”There was other people went to the Castle that night besides Jim 'Utchings, and that mysterierse woman the papers talked about.”

”An' 'ow do you know?” said John Pittaway in a tone of most disagreeable incredulity.

”I know because I seed 'em,” said William Roper.

”Saw 'oo?” said John Pittaway.

Then the whole story he had told Mr. Flexen burst forth from William Roper's overcharged bosom, the story with the embellishments natural to the lapse of time since its first telling. No less naturally in the course of the discussion which followed, he told also the story of the luckless kiss in the East wood, and the landlord pounced on that as the cause of the quarrel between Lord Loudwater and Colonel Grey at Bellingham. William Roper supported his contention with an embellished account of the interview with Lord Loudwater in which he had informed him of that kiss.

It was, indeed, his great hour, not as great as the hour he had promised himself at the trial, not so public, but a great hour.

He left the ”Bull and Gate” at closing time that night a man, in the estimation of all there, whose evidence could hang four of his fellow-creatures, the great man of the village.

Next morning the village was indeed simmering, and the scandal rose and spread from it like a stench. That very afternoon Mr. Manley heard it from Helena Truslove, and the next morning Mr. Flexen received two anonymous letters conveying the information to him, and suggesting that Colonel Grey and the Lady Loudwater had between them made away with her husband. It is hard to say whether Mr. Manley or Mr. Flexen was more annoyed by William Roper's blabbing.

But there was nothing to be done. The scandal must run its course. Mr.

Flexen did not think that it would find its way into the papers, local or London. None the less, he was alive to the danger that a sudden heavy pressure might be put on the police, and he might be forced to take ill-advised action, start a prosecution which would do Lady Loudwater infinite harm, and yet end in a fiasco which would leave the mystery just where it was. The one bright spot in the affair was that Lord Loudwater appeared to have left no friends behind him who would make it their business to see that he was avenged. As long as that avenging was everybody's business it was n.o.body's business.

Elizabeth Twitcher was no less disturbed than Mr. Flexen. She felt that Olivia ought to be informed of what was being said that she might be able to take steps to meet the danger. She took counsel with James Hutchings, who could not help feeling relieved by this diversion of suspicion, and he agreed with her that Olivia should be informed of the scandal at once.

But it was an uncommonly unpleasant task, and she shrank from it.

Then a happy thought came to James Hutchings, and he said: ”Look here: let Mr. Manley do it. He's her ladys.h.i.+p's secretary, and it's the kind of thing he'll do very well. He's a tactful young fellow.”

”It would be a blessing if he did,” said Elizabeth with a sigh.

She paused and added: ”You do speak differently about him to what you used to.”

”Yes. I made a mistake about him like as I did about some other people,”

said James Hutchings, with a rather shame-faced air. ”He behaved very well about seeing me here the night the master was murdered and saying nothing to the police about it. An' then he congratulated me very handsomelike on coming back as butler before Mr. Flexen.”

”He would do it better than I should,” said Elizabeth.

”Then I'll speak to him about it,” said James Hutchings.

He paused a while to kiss Elizabeth, then went in search of Mr. Manley.

He learned from Holloway that he had come in about twenty minutes earlier and was in his sitting-room. He went to him and found him looking through the MS. of the play he was writing, with an unlighted pipe in his mouth.

”If you please, sir, I thought I'd better come and tell you that they're saying in the village that Colonel Grey kissed her ladys.h.i.+p in the East wood on the afternoon of his lords.h.i.+p's death, and his lords.h.i.+p was informed of it and quarrelled with Colonel Grey and then her ladys.h.i.+p, and she and Colonel Grey made away with his lords.h.i.+p,” said James Hutchings.

”I've heard something about it,” said Mr. Manley, frowning, and he struck a match. ”Who set this absurd story going?”

”William Roper, one of the under-gamekeepers, sir.”

”William Roper? Ah, I know--a ferret-faced young fellow.”

”Yes, sir. And we was thinking that her ladys.h.i.+p ought to know about it so as she can put a stop to it at once, and you were the proper person to tell her, sir,” said James Hutchings.

On the instant Mr. Manley saw himself discharging this unpleasant but important duty with intelligence and tact, and he said readily: ”I was thinking of doing so, and now that I know the lying rascal's name I can do it at once. The sooner this kind of thing is stopped the better.”