Cyril Sheene, as I have already said was thirty years of age and a bachelor.
He was short and fat and had fair sleek hair parted in the middle, mild blue eyes and a silly sort of expression all over his face.
In ten minutes Helen came down again in a neatly fitting grey jacket and a large straw hat with a few scarlet poppies trailing over the brim. She looked very pretty and Cyril's face shone with pleasure as he regarded her.
"Wont you come out father?" asked Helen, "I suppose we are going on the hills are'nt we Cyril?"
"I thought we might go and sit by the old castle, it is such a glorious day" responded Cyril.
"Do come father" said Helen.
"I don't think I can" said Mr. Winston "I must go to the town this morning"
"Very well" said Helen; and then while Cyril Sheene was looking for his stick, she seized an opportunity to ask her father "shall I tell Cyril about Gladys coming?" "Yes" replied Mr. Winston "but mind not a word about the safe." "Oh no" answered Helen, and then with a lively little jump she ran after Cyril who was already walking down the garden path.
It was a perfect morning, the sun shonebrightly, lighting up all the scenery around; the birds were singing in the beach trees close by and the rippling of the little stream was as sweet music to the ear.
"Do you know Helen, I had an engagement in London today, but I put it off to come out with you" said Cyril, as they commenced to climb the hill.
"Oh indeed!" replied Helen "that was very kind of you."
"Oh no" answered Cyril "I would far rather be out here than in London."
"I quite agree with you there" said Helen "it would be horrid to be in smoky London today."
"Yes" said Cyril "especially without you."
"Oh rubbish" laughed Helen and she stooped down to pick a buttercup.
"Indeed it is not rubbish" replied Cyril "when a man loves, he finds it hard to be away from the object of his love."
"Oh does he?" said Helen "but then I am not the object of your love."
"Yes you are Helen," said Cyril, making an attempt to squeaze her hand.
"My dear boy" said Helen, "I do wish you would not talk such nonsense."
"Excuse me" answered Cyril, getting rather red "I am a man."
"Are you really?" said Helen carelessly.
"Now look here Helen, don't be aggrivating" said the lover "you know quite well I love you and why I have come up here."
They had reached the castle now and sat down by the ruined walls.
"Why have I come up here?" asked Cyril again.
"I suppose because it is more breezy than the town" replied Helen.
"Don't be silly Helen" said Cyril pulling up a tuft of grass.
"I am not the least silly" said Helen smiling beneath her handkerchief.
"No of course you're not darling" cried Cyril putting his arm round her waist.
"You mustn't call me "darling" Cyril" replied the girl shyly.
"Yes I must" said Cyril getting a little closer.
"Oh well for once in a way perhaps it does'nt matter" said Helen.
"Well the long and the short of it is Helen" said Cyril "I want to marry you?
"Really" said Helen "you've been long enough getting to the point."
"Have I?" said Cyril shyly "well now that I have come to it, do you love me enough to marry me?"
"Ye-es" replied Helen slowly.
"You seem rather doubtful" said Cyril.
"It's best to be so at first" replied Helen.
"Not in my case surely" answered Cyril, "oh Helen do say yes and make me a happy man."
"Yes" murmered Helen softly.
"Oh you angel" gasped Cyril "do you really mean it?"
"Of course I do" said Helen, "and Idolove you Cyril."
"Thank you so much" said Cyril "well now let's hurry home and ask your father I'm in such a terrific hurry."
"Don't be absurd" said Helen "I want to stay in the sunshine."
"Anything to please you dear" said Cyril re-seating himself on the grass.
"Cyril, I think you'll make a model husband" said Helen.
"I'm sure I will" laughed Cyril and with that they got up to walk home.
At the bottom of the hill they spied Mr.Winston. He looked up as he saw them coming and waved his hand furiously.
When they met Mr. Winston he turned directly to Helen, "what do you think Helen, I've furnished the attic all by myself, the only thing Marshland did was to scrub the floor and nail up the curtains."
"How nice" said Helen "but father I've something far more important to tell you."
"Dont say it my child" said the old man "your faces tell me what it is and I give my consent on the spot."
And he plunged his stick into the ground to mark the vehemance of his words.
Theweek that followed that day was a happy one indeed. Helen and Cyril were more together than ever and then too each day brought it nearer to when Gladys was to come.
At last Monday morning came, and Helen was so excited she could hardly eat her dinner, and Mr. Winston got quite cross whenshe refused some beautiful cherry pie.
"Do hurry up father" exclaimed Helen at last, "I want to have the room nice and tidy for Gladys and Mr. Palsey."
"My dear I wont starve for any amount of grand ladies" replied Mr. Winston heartily.
Helen smiled languidly and began to arrange the flower stand by the window.
At 4 o'clock precisely a dainty little dog cart drew up at Beach Dale. Helen, peeping from behind the drawing room curtains, saw, first a tall man dressed in a blue suit and black hat and gloves, jump down from the cart and hold out his hand to a young lady who tripped lightly down and tossed a silver coin to the coachman.
The next moment the drawing room door was flung open and Marshland's clear voice was heard announcing, "Miss Lincarrol—Mr. Palsey."
"Oh dear Gladys, I am so delighted to see you" cried Helen in her sweetest tones.
"And I am equally glad to meet you" cried Gladys, "and allow me to introduce my future husband James Palsey."
"How do you do" said Mr. Palsey gravely as he held out his well gloved hand.
At that minute Mr. Winston entered the room dressed in his best things.
"Well Gladys my dear and how are you he cried cheerfully "what a big person you are to be sure, quite half a head taller than Helen I declare."
Gladys laughed affectedly and held out her small hand; she then introduced Mr. Palsey, who, during all this merriment had stood as grave as a judge.
"Do come and have some food pleaded Helen pointing to the dainty little equipage already set out on a bamboo table by the open window.
"Oh thank you" said Gladys and she began to take off her gloves and turn up her veil preparatory to eating.
"Wont you take a seat Mr. Palsey?" asked Helen as she poured out the tea.
"Thanks" replied the gentleman and he sat down on the edge of a whicker chair. Here will be a good opportunity to describe Gladys Lincarrol and her young man.
Mr. Palsey was a tall broad shouldered man about 37, with a solemn face and large hands. His black hair was curly and plentiful and his small green eyes twinkled queerly if he wasat all pleased. He was attired in blue, as I said before and in addition to this he wore patent leather boots and a crimson tie.
Gladys was also tall, but very slim. She had golden hair with a reddish tinge and blue eyes. She was very pale and her mouth had a peculiar twitch of conciet. She wore a lovely pink muslin dress and kid gloves to match. A large white hat adorned her pretty head, and she wore a bunch of violets at her neck.
Tea over, Helen proposed a stroll around the village.
"Oh yes, that will be very nice, dont you think so Jim?" asked Gladys.
"Yes I do, thanks" replied Mr. Palsey.
So the trio linked arms and walked slowly down the garden path, and Mr. Winston settled himself comfortably once more and prepared to read the "Star."
Hehad barely got through the first paragraph when Marshland entered with a letter.
"For you sir" she said placing it on her master's lap.
"Thanks" said Mr. Winston opening the envelope as he spoke.
The letter ran thus:
H. M. Prison,Warwick.Dear Sir,You are requested to come up here by the first train tomorrow morning to hang Mr. Smith, who has lately murdered his wife and three children. It is a serious case, and I am sure you will sympathize.Belive me dear sirYours etcC. L. Porter(head warder of thecounty prison).To. J. Winston Esq: Beach Dale, Kenalham Hants.
H. M. Prison,Warwick.
Dear Sir,
You are requested to come up here by the first train tomorrow morning to hang Mr. Smith, who has lately murdered his wife and three children. It is a serious case, and I am sure you will sympathize.
Belive me dear sirYours etcC. L. Porter(head warder of thecounty prison).
To. J. Winston Esq: Beach Dale, Kenalham Hants.
Mr. Winston sighed as he closed the letter.
"Oh dear oh dear" he cried, "here I have to leave my happy home, just when Gladys and James have arrived, Marshland" he added.
"Yes sir" said the servant coming forward.
"I shall have to leave home early tomorrow"said Mr. Winston "how will you get on with out me?"
"Oh sir, I think we shall get on all right" responded Marshland "I'll keep an eye on the young ladies and Mr. Palsey will cheer them up I know."
"I dont know that" said Mr. Winston "he seems a very dull gentleman."
"Do he really sir" said Marshland "well I'm sure I'm very sad."
"But do you think you can mannage without me? I shall not be away more than three days" asked Mr. Winston.
"Oh yes sir, dont you fret" replied Marshland and now is there anything I can do for you?"
"No nothing thank you" said Mr. Winston "but when the young ladies and Mr. Palsey come in, send Miss Helen to me."
"Yes sir" said Marshland quitting the room.
Barely had the door closed on Marshlands comely figure, when it opened again and Cyril Sheene came bounding in.
"Hullo Winston" he cried "I heard you had some friends down, so I thought I'd just drop in and be introduced."
"They're all out at present" said Mr. Winstonwith a vain attempt at a smile, "sit down wont you they'll be in soon."
Cyril flung himself down in an arm chair and then glanced at Mr. Winston.
"Why Winston old fellow" he cried, you dont look yourself, is anything up?"
"Oh nothing said Mr. Winston tapping the table nervously."
"Now look here" said Cyril "you cant get round me like that, I know something is wrong, you might as well tell me."
"Very well Cyril I'll tell you" said Mr. Winston and he handed the letter to Cyril, who read it carefully through. As he did so a marked change came over his face, a change from a pleasant faced young man to that of a stern, cold, yet pleased person.
"So you're off tomorrow?" remarked he as he folded the paper.
"Yes I suppose so" said Mr. Winston.
"How you must feel leaving the girls all alone" said Cyril.
"I do" said Mr. Winston, "but I know Marshland will take good care of them and you'll look in wont you?"
"Well I was about to suggest going up with you" said Cyril "I know a few friends in Warwickand you'd be all the better for a companion."
"It is kind of you Cyril" said Mr. Winston "but I'd rather you stopped to take care of Helen."
"Oh Helen will be all right with Marshland and Mr. Palsey in the house" said Cyril "I think you need me more."
"I suppose I do" replied Mr. Winston "but my poor little Helen."
"Well I'll stay if you like, but you wont be away more than three days and what Helen wants with me hanging about I dont know." said Cyril.
"Well I'll take your advice and accept you as a companion, and thanks a thousand times Cyril" replied Mr. Winston.
At that moment the door opened and Helen came running in.
"Well father dear" she said, "I was told you wanted me, so I just came down while Gladys changes her dress."
"Yes dear" said Mr. Winston I am afraid I have some rather bad news for you."
"Oh dear father what is it?" exclaimed Helen kneeling down by the chair.
"I must go to Warwick early to-morrowdear on a hanging matter" replied Mr. Winston "I shall be back in three days."
"Oh father" cried Helen "just when Gladys and Mr. Palsey have come down Oh I am sorry" and her pretty eyes filled with tears.
"Yes dear I am sorry too" remarked Mr. Winston slowly, "but you'll be all right wont you?"
"Oh yes father" said Helen "I was not thinking of myself, but it always knocks you up so, and just when we're all so happy."
"Well Cyril has offered to go with me and keep me company" said Mr. Winston "you wont miss him much will you?"
"Oh Cyril I am glad" exclaimed Helen. "I feel far easier now, you'll take such care of father I know."
"Yes Helen I will" said Cyril folding Helen in his arms and kissing her forehead.
"Thank you Cyril" said Helen returning her lover's kiss.
Soon after Gladys and Mr. Palsey came in, and a merry farewell evening was spent, Cyril at the head of the fun.
Next morning Helen was up early toasting some bread for her father's breakfast; shemade the table and room as cosy as she could and then waited her fathers coming down.
He came at last looking worn and pale but he enjoyed his meal and cheered up a little as he ate it.
"Now dear, is your portmanteau ready?" enquired Helen trying hard to keep back her tears.
"Yes dear quite" returned the father "and Cyril will meet me at the station you know."
"Yes he told me so" replied Helen.
"Well goodbye darling, keep a good heart and I'll be back on Thursday at the latest" said Mr. Winston.
"Goodbye dear father" rejoined the girl "I'll try and be cheerful but it is hard you know."
"I know it dear" said Mr. Winston and then turning to Marshland he added "goodbye Marshland, take good care of the young ladies and keep an eye on Mr. Palsey."
"I will sir" returned Marshland and then she and Helen stood at the door the latter waving her handkerchief to the dear father who was never more to enter his happy home in Kenalham.
Helen Winstonfound it very hard to be merry without her father, but she did her best and Gladys took her little attentions very kindly.
"What do you propose doing now? she asked when breakfast was cleared away.
"I must attend to the housekeeping first and then I thought a walk on the hills would be nice" answered Helen.
"Very good" said Gladys "we can go and visit the old castle you talk so much about."
"Yes" said Helen, and she tripped down stairs, more for the pleasure of a comforting talk with Marshland than to order the dinner.
In an hour's time they were all ready and started on their breezy walk.
"How lovely it is up here," remarked Gladys.
"Yes is'nt it beautiful" replied Helen thinking of the last time she was up there."
The little promenade quite cheered Helen up, and she and Gladys did some shopping inthe afternoon while Mr. Falsey stayed at home to smoke his pipe.
The next day passed pretty much the same as the first and by Thursday morning Helen was all smiles again, knowing that by tea-time her dear father would be home again.
In the afternoon she went out and bought a tea cake for tea. She had tea laid out on the best bamboo table with the blue and gold tea cups and she also put fresh flowers in all the vases and all together the little drawing room had a truly home-like aspect.
At 4 o'clock a ring was heard at the front door.
"How funny of father to ring" cried Helen "I thought he would be sure to come in and supprise me."
"Perhaps he thought it would supprise you more if he rung," replied Gladys.
"Ah perhaps so" responded Helen giving a last touch to the pink rose-buds which drooped prettily over the china vases.
At that moment Marshland entered the room with a frightened look on her face.
Coming up she handed a telegram to Helen "its given me such a turn miss" she explained"them telegrams always seem to carry bad news."
Helens face grew pale and she hastily opened the envelope.
The moment her eyes rested on the words, she uttered a cry of anguish and flung the telegram away from her. "Oh I know its father" she cried.
"Hush hush miss" said Marshland soothingly and picking up the telegram she too read the fatel words. The telegram ran as follows:
Come at once, a terrible thing has happened. Sheene.
Come at once, a terrible thing has happened. Sheene.
Marshland's honest face grew ashy as she read the words, but she tried to control her feelings for Helens sake.
"Well miss it is a terrible thing" she said "but we can but hope for the best, what train will you go by miss."
"Oh I dont know, dont ask me," cried poor Helen.
"Dont cry so Helen dear" said Gladys "after all it may not be as bad as Mr. Sheene thinks."
"Wont you allow me to come to Warwickwith you Miss Winston?" asked Mr. Palsey kindly.
"You're very kind" sobbed Helen, "but Gladys wont like it."
"Dont think of me for one instant" said Gladys, patting Helen's head "of course you'll go with her James and Marshland and I will keep house till you come back."
"I had better go tonight" said Helen getting up from the sofa and glancing at the pretty little tea table, which five minutes ago she had arranged with such love and care.
"Yes miss, the telegram says at once" replied Marshland, "I wonder when the next train is."
"I can tell you" cried Mr. Palsey producing a time table from his pocket and running his finger down the column.
"Poor Helen" said Gladys kissing her fondly.
"Seven fifteen is the next" said Mr. Palsey, "that'll give you nice time to get ready," and it gets to Warwick at 11-30.
"That will do" replied Helen "will you put my things together for me, I feel so faint."
"Yes dearie" replied Marshland. Now Helen dear you rest on the sofa and I'll bringyou some tea" said Gladys. Helen flung herself down, quite worn out.
Gladys gave her a cup of strong tea and bathed her hot head with eau de cologne.
"I'll go and order the dog-cart, to drive us to the station" said Mr. Palsey.
"Yes be quick James, you must not be late" replied Gladys.
For in an hour's time all was ready. Helen, with a white shawl over her face was standing at the door while Mr. Palsey put the bags into the dog cart.
"Goodbye Helen dear" cried Gladys "keep up a good heart and James will take every care of you."
"Goodbye Gladys" said Helen "and thanks so much for sparing him to me."
"Goodbye Miss Helen my love" cried poor old Marshland wiping her eyes on her apron, "write as soon as you can and let me know how the master is."
"Yes of course I will" cried Helen, jumping into the dog cart, "goodbye all, goodbye and in an other minute the dog cart was out of sight, and Marshland returned to her work, and Gladys to the deserted drawing room.
Thejourney on which Helen and Mr. Palsey had set out was a very long one indeed and May though it was the night was very chilly.
Helen shivered as she got into the train and drew her shawl round her. Mr. Palsey had taken first class tickets, and so soothing was the motion of the train and so comfortable the seat in which she found herself that Helen soon dropped asleep.
"Now I can think over things a bit," said Mr. Palsey taking some papers from a black bag by his side, "jolly nice of Gladys to suggest me coming up here, though she didn't know why I wanted to come poor girl; odd that I didn't hear from Sheene today, I quite expected a line or a telegram to say how matters stand. It may here be mentioned that Mr. Palsey and Cyril Sheene were by no means new acquaintances and had met many times in London and even once or twice before in Kenalham.
"Odd how Cyril found out about that secretshelf mused Mr. Palsey "a whole bag of gold he said, how Winston saved it I dont know, ah he was a rich man with all his poor living and scanty furniture. I think there were some jewils in the safe too but of course it is the money, the gold I'm putting myself to this for and with a cold laugh, he drew out some closely written papers and read them eagerly, putting pencil marks by certain paragraphs in the document.
The train flew on nearing Warwick rapidly.
At last Helen awoke with a start and found Mr. Palsey taking forty winks opposite her.
She rubbed her eyes and looked out of the window, "how dark it is" she thought and its raining too, how horrible and she nestled under her fluffy shawl. Presently the train stopped with a jerk and Mr. Palsey woke up.
"This is Warwick" he said picking up his bag "train's late and it is twenty to twelve.
"How late" quoth Helen and with a sigh she followed Mr. Palsey on to the crowded platform.
It was a dreary sight which met the weary girl's eyes. The rain was pouring heavily and the whole station looked wet and miserable. The gas lights flickered in the wind makinghideous shadows on the walls. The porters, cold and cross looking, poor things, were bustling about, crying the name of the station at the tops of their voices, and a thin shaggy dog, evidently lost, was howling pitiably, tending by no means to cheer poor Helen's quaking heart.
"I thought Cyril would be sure to meet you" said Mr. Palsey suddenly "you go into the waiting room and warm yourself and I'll walk up the road a bit and see if I see him, for I dont know what house to go to do you?"
"No" said Helen, "oh Mr. Palsey I'm so unhappy and with a faint cry she turned away and buried her face in her shawl.
"Poor thing" thought Mr. Palsey "she cant guess the worst yet," out loud he added "hush Miss Winston, you are over fatigued, that is all, would you like a cup of coffee? the refreshment room is not yet closed."
"I could'nt drink or eat" replied Helen sadly "I'll go and sit by the fire while you look for Cyril.
"Very well" said Mr. Palsey, and he turned round and went off in an opposite direction.
Helen entered the waiting room and sat by the fire her tired eyes covered with her hands.Presently she raised her white face and glanced at the clock. Two old ladies sitting near, noticed her pale frightened face.
"Have you come a long journey" asked one "you look very tired."
"I am very tired, and miserable too" broke forth Helen in the fullness of her heart "oh why am I dragged up here in this cruel fashion, oh what has happened to father?" she burst into heart broken sobbing.
The old ladies looked very much alarmed and after bidding Helen a kind good night, gathered up their wraps and departed.
The time sped on and still nether Cyril nor Mr. Palsey arrived.
Helen grew terrified and was on the point of going out on to the platform when the door opened and the two men appeared.
Mr. Palsey looked much the same, Cyril was clad in a heavy ulster and his face was white and scared.
Cyril was speaking as the two entered and Helen caught the last words, "just as we could have wished" he was saying. "Oh Cyril Cyril" cried Helen and she flung herself into his arms.
"My darling" gasped Cyril and a queer gurglesounded in his throat. "What is it Cyril, what has happened?" cried Helen, clutching hold of his coat.
"Hush darling" said Cyril, "come outside.
Helen was quite overcome by now and she allowed herself to be led out by Cyril and Mr. Palsey.
"Shall you tell her tonight" whispered Mr. Palsey.
"It is better to get it over" replied Cyril, "Helen dear, be prepared for bad news."
"Yes yes anything" gasped Helen nervously "father is ill I know very ill, oh Cyril tell me quickly."
"Worse than that" said Cyril and he clasped her tightly to him.
"Not dying moaned Helen, "oh Cyril not dying.
Cyril said nothing, but Mr. Palsey whispered "out with it Sheene, she must know soon."
"He is dead" cried Helen wildly, "say the words Cyril say them."
Cyril bowed his head "yes" he murmured "dead—murd——
"Hush" whispered Mr. Palsey striking him on the arm, "you idiot, keep quiet."
With a shriek, Helen tore herself from Cyril's grasp and ran like the wind, she herself knew not wither; at the station gate her strength failed her, she turned, she tottered, she tried to scream and fell insensible at the feet of the villians.
Cyriland Mr. Palsey lost no time in conveying Helen to a cab which was waiting outside. They placed her on one of the seats and bade the cabman drive directly to number 2 Medina Road, where Cyril was lodging.
"How will you manage about the money Cyril?" presently asked Mr. Palsey.
"Dont speak to me of money?" cried Cyril bitterly, "oh Helen Helen" and he bent over his unconcious sweetheart.
"Pon me word Cyril" cried Mr. Palsey "you're a born idiot, the girl will soon recover, you'll marry her and we'll go halfs with the money, its simply ridiculous the way you mople and mumble over her, let her alone Isay and tell me how the murd—the bussiness went off."
"I've told you twice it was very successful" replied Cyril impatiantly.
"You're trying to hide something I can see" cried Mr. Palsey passionately, "you'd best tell me, or not a farthing of the money shall be yours."
"I dont see that" said Cyril cooly, "you dont even know where the safe is." Mr. Palsey bit his lips in suppressed anger. Cyril's words were stiningly true and made him boil with passion. "Here we are" said Cyril, as the cab stopped at a dimly lighted street corner.
"Hi cabman, get down and open the door" screamed Mr. Palsey.
The man shuffled down from the box and opened the door.
"Any luggage" he asked roughly.
"No" replied Mr. Palsey "there is a young lady fainted and we are going to carry her in to this house."
"Right" responded the man and he stood aside while Cyril and Mr. Palsey came gingerly out carrying Helen between them.
As they were ascending the steps a roughlooking man in a torn red shirt and battered hat came up and addressed himself to Cyril.
"Hi sir" he cried out "what about that £10 you promised; I'm a poor starving man and I cant wait much longer.
"Bother" muttered Cyril "here man will a shilling suffice for this evening, I'll pay the rest tomorrow."
"All right" grumbled the man, "unless you pay up tomorrow it'll be the last job I do for you," and with an oath the man departed.
Cyril lead the way into a dimly lighted parlour and with Mr. Palseys help Helen was soon arranged on the sofa.
Some supper consisting of cold mutton, vegitables and a jug of ale was laid out on a round table in the centre of the room, and small parrifin lamp burnt on the mantleshelf. Going over to this last object Cyril screwed it up, so that its glare fell, full on Helen's face.
"Why she's hurt herself terribly" cried Cyril in alarm, pointing to a wound in her forehead from which blood had been streaming down her face.
"Is your landlady up?" enquired Mr. Palsey seriously.
"I should rather doubt it, why?" asked Cyril.
"Because Miss Winston should be taken to her bedroom at once, I'm afraid it is a bad cut" replied Mr. Palsey.
"I'll ring" responded Cyril and he acted accordingly.
In ten minutes or so an oldish woman entered holding a candle and her garments had evidently been flung on in a hurry.
"What now sir?" she asked.
"Sorry for disturbing you Mrs. Pollard but this young lady of mine has had a terrible fall and must be taken to her bedroom at once, we thought it was only a faint said Cyril.
"Lardy dardy" exclaimed Mrs. Pollard "poor young lady, I'll see to her at once sir."
She left the room and soon returned with an other servant and the two carried Helen to her bedroom where they bathed her face with cold water and put her to bed as carefully as possible.
"You'd best go for the doctor Mary" said Mrs. Pollard "say nothing to the young gentleman and be as quick as you can.
Meanwhile Cyril and Mr. Palsey sat down to their supper.
"Poor Helen" cried Cyril at last.
"Oh stop that tune do" cried Mr. Palsey "tell us what happened."
"It was all done as pre-arranged. I waited till the man was hanged and the yard emptied of people and while Mr. Winston was putting away the scaffold the blow was struck" said Cyril.
"By you?"
"No"
"Who then?"
"Oh that lout you saw at the door just now, he decided to do the job for £10, I had hard work to make him do it just at first" replied Cyril.
"Indeed" said Mr. Palsey "what was his name?"
"Jack Jenkins" replied Cyril a terrific beggar and drunkard too I belive."
"Oh" laughed Mr. Palsey "and what plan did you adopt about the gun?"
"I did'nt do that" responded Cyril "when Jenkins had done his part of the bussiness, I got a knife, steeped it in red ink and laid it by Mr. Winston's side, as he was prostrated on the ground."
"And that will lead the police to belive itwas suicide you think?" asked Mr. Palsey.
"I think so" replied Cyril with a groan "at last that seemed to be the general opinion when the poor fellow was taken to the mortuary."
"Why do you say "poor fellow?" asked Mr. Palsey.
"Because I do think he is a poor fellow and I'm sorry I ever did the thing" cried Cyril and he brought his fist down on the table with such force that the jug of beer toppled over and fell on the floor.
At that moment the door opened and Mrs. Pollard poked her head in "if you please sir" she said "we've thought fit to send for Dr. Poppet, and he's waiting in the hall."
"Very well" said Cyril with dignity "show him upstairs and when he has seen Miss Winston let him come and have a word with me."
"Miss Winston" cried Mrs. Pollard "why sir is she any relation to the poor hangman as was killed after the affair."
"Yes woman" cried Cyril hotly "she is his daughter, now go for pity's sake"
Mrs. Pollard hastily withdrew and commanded Dr. Poppet to follow her.
"Its a serious case sir" she said cheerilyopening Helen's door "step this way please."
Dr. Poppet stepped that way and went over to Helens bed, where Mary the under servant was putting ointment on the wound.
"Hem" grunted the doctor seriously "not as bad as I feared, but very dangerous for all that, she must be kept very quiet Mrs. Pollard and must only take liquid food, she will probably awake by 5 or 6 o'clock and you may give her a little milk, "I'll call again tomorrow on my rounds, keep her head cool or fever of some kind may set in and effect the brain."
"Your instructions shall be carried out to the letter" said Mrs. Pollard and with that she led him down to talk with Cyril Sheene.
Thenext morning Helen was sadly feverish, though quite sensible.
From the time she woke up 11-30 a.m. she never opened her lips.
She was very feverish and her brain very much upset.
Mr. Palsey decided not to tell Helen the fearful news till she was better and indeed it was a wise thing to do. Helen smiled and looked pleased when Cyril went to see her, but turned away in disgust when Mr. Palsey went near her.
"Helen dear" said Cyril "I am going out now, is there anything you would like me to buy for you?"
"No nothing" replied Helen "let me be alone, I want no one near me."
Cyril sighed, took up his hat and departed.
Entering the sitting room he found Mr. Palsey busy writing.
"James" said Cyril "I must go out now, will you come."
"No I cant" replied Mr. Palsey "I am very busy."
Cyril again gave a sigh of relief, and opening the front door went out.
The storm of the night before had quite subsided and the sun was shining brightly.
To tell the truth, Cyril was very glad to hear that Mr. Palsey could not go out, for he himself was going to the court of Justice to appear as witness concerning the death of Mr.Winston, which some of the detectives suspected to be murder and some suicide.
The court was densely crowded and in consequence very hot and stuffy.
Cyril forced his way through the crowd and seated himself in the witness box, where sat two other men, Mr. Porter the head warder of the prison and Dr. Slyn, both of whom had held conversation with Mr. Winston, an hour or so before his death.
"Not many witnesses for so serious a case" cried the judge in loud tones as he eyed the three desolate looking men.
Cyril was the first witness as he knew more of the deceased than either of the other two. He had to relate all he knew of Mr. Winston's past life and in conclusion the judge asked him if he thought Mr. Winston looked like commiting suicide when he went to hang Mr. Smith.
Cyril replied that Mr. Winston looked rather morbid on the day of the execution and otherwise no other change was visible.
The judge coughed, "summon the detectives" he cried.
The detectives (three in number) advanced.
"Now Mr. Slag" said the judge, addressingthe leader of the three men, "what is your opinion of this terrible case, murder or suicide?"
Cyril waited open mouthed for the reply, his whole life depended on Mr. Slag's reply.
Mr. Slag evidently did not like giving his opinion in public and he hesitated before speaking.
"I say it was murder" cried one of the other detectives.
Cyril could have screamed with vexation.
"Are you aware Mr. Tix that your opinion was not asked" enquired the judge dryly "Mr. Slag if you please" he added authoritivly.
"I say suicide most decidedly replied Mr. Slag "I am a trained detective my lord and am not likely to make a mistake, Mr. Rennet is also of my opinion."
"Very well" said the judge writing in his note book.
"I am convinced it is suicide and so is the jury and you may go Mr. Slag, the case is with drawn where are Mr. Winston's relations who will bury the deceased?"
A stir in the witness box and Cyril came forward "I will undertake to pay for the burial" he said.
"You?" cried the astonished judge "who are you pray?"
"My name is Cyril Sheene" replied Cyril getting very red "and I am the greatest friend poor Mr. Winston had, besides his daughter who I know is penniless.
"Very well" said the judge "you are a good benevolent man.
Little did the simple minded judge know, that the innocent looking person he addressed in such kind tones was the real murderer of Mr. Winston.