CHAPTER VIII
THE MURDER OF CAPTAIN SANDRINGHAM
Overton and Mr. Narkom had already turned away, and with a pleasant"Good afternoon" to Mrs. Hurdon, Cleek moved off after them.
"Sorry to kep' you hanging round so late, gov'ner," he said, as he cameup and joined the land-steward, Narkom again dropping back into therear. "I never give a thought to how the time was flying until I see youmake a move."
"Oh, don't let that distress you, Mr. Headland," replied Overton, goodnaturedly. "I have plenty of time at my disposal, fortunately. It wasonly my horse I was worrying over. He gets a bit restless if he's tiedup too long, and that roadside sapling I fastened him to is none toofirm a thing if he should suddenly take it into his mind to go back tothe stables and leave me. You can see for yourself that he is beginningto get uneasy."
Cleek could. The animal was exceedingly restless, so they quickenedtheir steps and got back to the road in time to take him before he didany mischief.
A short walk brought them to the curve where the road went round thebend of the Castle grounds and past the front elevation of the twocottages, and there before them stood St. Saviour's, with its moss-grownlich-gate, its well-worn footpath, its grim surroundings of sagging anddiscoloured tombstones, and its scarred and time-worn bell-tower.
Tower and church stood back from the highway at a distance of somethirty feet or more, and looking past them one could catch a glimpsethrough the trees of the gate and the path which led to the adjoiningvicarage.
Cleek paused a moment and looked at the place. It seemed peaceful enoughin the waning light and the pleasant country hush--far too peaceful tobe in any way connected with matters of mystery and blood-shed.
"Seen a bit of time go over its head, that has," said he, as he struck amatch and lit his pipe. "That'll be the bell-tower over there to theleft, won't it, the round thing with the cement pavement all round it?"
"Yes. Would you like to go in and examine it? There's plenty of time."
"Not me. I want my supper and a good night's rest first. Will this bethe road where you saw that thing last night, Mr. Overton?"
"No. It is on the other side of the graveyard--over there, where you seethat row of trees in the distance. It runs parallel with this one. Icouldn't have come over from Willowby Old Church by this road, youknow. It takes another sharp turn presently, then another again, andgoes off in a totally different direction. I remember hearing anAmerican gentleman who was here last summer saying that he guessed itmust have been paced off by an Early Briton who'd just risen fromsitting down on a nest of bees and was hunting around for a drug store."
"Hallo!" interrupted Cleek, "this is the front of the Hurdons' cottage,I see. They _do_ keep it tidy and no mistake. And the one adjoining itis where the child disappeared, eh?"
"Yes. Would you care to go in and have a look at it? I haven't the key,of course, but I could borrow Mrs. Hurdon's. They both have the one kindof lock, so I dare say hers would do. Shall I ask?"
"No, thanks. That'll do for to-morrow--when the magnifying glass and theother things arrive. Let's move on. I'm a bit tired and anxious to getto our rooms. I can tell from the way my mate drags his feet that he'sabout done up, too."
"He _is_ an uncommunicative beggar, and no mistake!" declared Overton,with a laugh. "Hasn't spoken a blessed syllable the whole way. I shouldsay an oyster was about as sociable a companion for you as he."
"Oh, Jim's all right when you know him. Not much on the talk, I'llallow; but deaf folks never is. I like him because he never worries menone. Hallo! who's this Johnnie, I wonder? He looks a bit excited."
By this time they had negotiated the farther turning in the road and hadcome in sight of a gate and a man standing before it--someone whom theclustering lilac bushes completely screened from view.
"That will be Carstairs, he's butler at the Castle, you remember," saidOverton as he looked up and saw him. "The gate is the gate of thevicarage. No doubt it's the vicar himself he's talking to."
It was, as they saw clearly when they came abreast of the place. Buteven before they did so, the butler hearing their approach, looked roundand saw them, and Cleek could not remember when he had seen any man'sface and eyes express such exultation.
"Well, Carstairs, taking a constitutional before dinner-time?" inquiredOverton, genially. "Ah! good afternoon, Vicar. Instructing Carstairs howto go about putting up the banns? He looks uncommonly well pleased."
"So I am, Mr. Overton; so I am, sir," declared Carstairs, with asatisfaction openly manifest. "One doesn't serve a good master like HisGrace for years without being glad when good news comes his way--andthis will mean the lifting of a great cross from his shoulders, blesshim!"
"Now what do you mean by that? Something come to light about lastnight's horrible affair, Vicar?"
"No, Mr. Overton, nothing at all--unfortunately. It appears that I havebeen the means of imparting a piece of important news which has not yetreached the Castle--although I naturally supposed that it had. I daresay, however, that the duke was so much upset this morning that heneglected to read his newspaper."
"There was something of importance in it, then?"
"Of very great importance, Mr. Overton. I had to send to my study forthe paper before I could convince Carstairs that I had not made amistake. Here it is--look! 'Tragic Close of a Mis-spent Life. EnglishDuke's Heir Murdered in Paris.' The victim, Mr. Overton, was CaptainPaul Sandringham. He was shot dead in the street in Paris last eveningby a Pole he had fleeced and ruined at cards."
Mr. Narkom glanced at Cleek; and Cleek catching that glance from thetail of his eye began to smoke hard.
In Paris, eh? Not in England at all! So, then, whoever was engineeringthis Valehampton affair, Captain Paul Sandringham was out of it. Forlast night he was in France; last night he was a dead man; yet lastnight the bells of St. Saviour's sent forth their peal as usual!