Anne Hereford. Mrs. Henry Wood

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СКАЧАТЬ who first entered the room was a gentleman of middle age and size. His complexion was healthy and ruddy; his short dark hair, sprinkled with grey, was combed down upon the forehead: his countenance was good-natured and simple. This was Mr. Barley of the Oaks. Not the least resemblance did he bear to his brother. Following him was one in an official dress, who was probably superior to a common policeman, for his manners were good, and Mr. Barley called him "Sir." It was not the same who had been in the hall.

      "Oh, this--this must be the little girl," observed Mr. Barley. "Are you Mrs. Edwin's niece, my dear--Miss Hereford?"

      "Yes, sir!"

      "Do you know where she is?"

      "In her bedroom, I think, sir."

      It had transpired that a quarrel had taken place the previous Friday between Mr. Heneage and Philip King; and the officer had now been in the kitchen to question Jemima. Jemima disclaimed all knowledge of the affair, beyond the fact that she had heard of it from little Miss Hereford, whom she saw on the stairs, crying and frightened. He had now come to question me.

      "Now, my little maid, try and recollect," said the officer, drawing me to him. "What did they quarrel about?"

      "I don't know, sir," I answered. And I spoke the literal truth, for I had not understood at the time.

      "Can you not recollect?"

      "I can recollect," I said, looking at him, and feeling that I did not shrink from him, though he was a policeman. "Mr. King seemed to have done something wrong, for Mr. Heneage was angry with him, and called him a spy; but I did not know what it was that he had done. I was too frightened to listen; I ran out of the room."

      "Then you did not hear what the quarrel was about?"

      "I did not understand, sir. Except that they said that Mr. King was mean, and a spy."

      "They!" he repeated, catching me up quickly; "who else was in the room?"

      "My Aunt Selina."

      "Then she took Mr. Heneage's part?"

      "Yes, sir."

      "How did the quarrel end? Amicably, or in evil feeling?"

      "I don't know, sir. I went away, and stayed in my bedroom."

      "My sister-in-law, Mrs. Edwin, may be able to tell you more about it, as she was present," interposed Mr. Barley.

      "I dare say she can," was the officer's reply. "It seems a curious thing altogether--that two gentlemen should be visiting at a house, and one should shoot the other. How long had they been staying here?"

      "Let's see," said Mr. Barley, rubbing his forefinger upon his forehead. "It must be a month, I fancy, sir, since they came. Heneage was here first: some days before Philip."

      "Were they acquainted previously?"

      "I--think--not," said Mr. Barley, speaking with hesitation. "Heneage was here on a short visit in the middle of the summer, but not Philip: whereas Philip was here at Easter, and the other was not. No, sir, I believe they were not acquainted before, but my brother can tell you."

      "Who is this Mr. Heneage?"

      "Don't you know? He is the son of the member for Wexborough. Oh, he is of very good family--very. A sad blow it will be for them, if things turn out as black as they look. Will he get clear off, think you?"

      "You may depend upon it, he would not have got off far, but for this confounded fog that has come on," warmly replied the police-officer. "We shall have him to-morrow, no doubt."

      "I never hardly saw such a fog at this time of year," observed Mr. Barley. "I couldn't see a yard before me as I came along. Upon my word, it almost seems as if it had come on purpose to screen him."

      "Was he a pleasant man, this Heneage?"

      "One of the nicest fellows you ever met, sir," was Mr. Barley's impulsive reply. "The last week or two Edwin seems to have taken some spite against him; I don't know what was up between them, for my part: but I liked Heneage, what I saw of him, and thought him an uncommon good fellow. Mrs. Edwin Barley has known him a long while; my brother only recently. They all met in London last spring."

      "Heneage derives no benefit in any way, by property or otherwise, from his death?" observed the policeman, speaking half as a question, half as a soliloquy.

      "It's not likely, sir. The only person to benefit is my brother. He comes in for it all."

      The officer raised his eyes. "Your brother comes in for young King's fortune, Mr. Barley?"

      "Yes, he does. And I'll be bound he never gave a thought to the inheriting of it. How should he, from a young and hearty lad like Philip? Edwin has croaked over Philip's health of late, said he was consumptive, and going the way of his brother Reginald; but I saw nothing amiss with Philip."

      "May I ask why you don't inherit, Mr. Barley, being the eldest brother?"

      "He was no blood relation to me. My father married twice, I was the son of the first wife; Edwin of the second; and Philip King's father and Edwin's mother were cousins. Philip had no male relative living but my brother, therefore he comes in for the estate."

      Mrs. Edwin Barley appeared at the door, and paused there, as if listening to the conclusion of the last sentence. Mr. Barley turned and saw her, and she came forward. She had twisted up her damp hair, and thrown on a shawl of white China crape. Her eyes were brilliant, her cheeks carmine--beautiful she looked altogether.

      The officer questioned her as to the cause of the quarrel which she had been present at, but she would give him no satisfactory answer. She "could not remember;" "Philip King was in the wrong, she knew that;" "the officer must excuse her talking, for her head ached, and her brain felt confused." Such was the substance--all, in fact, that he could get from her. He bowed and withdrew, and Mr. Barley followed him downstairs, Selina bolting the door after them.

      "Now, Anne, I must have a little conversation with you," she said, drawing me to her as she sat on the low ottoman. And I could see that she shivered still. She proceeded to question me of what had occurred after I left her at the summer-house. I told her; and had got to where Philip King was shot, when she interrupted.

      "Good heavens, child! you saw him shot?"

      "I heard the noise, and saw him fall. It seemed to come from the spot where he had been gazing."

      "Did you see who did it?" she asked, scarcely above her breath.

      "No!"

      "Then you saw no one about but Philip King?"

      "I saw Mr. Edwin Barley. He was near the spot from whence the shot seemed to come, looking through the trees and standing still, as if he wondered what could be amiss. For, oh, Selina! Philip King's scream was dreadful, and must have been heard a long way."

      My aunt caught hold of my arm in a sort of fright. "Anne! what do you say? You saw Edwin Barley at that spot! Not Mr. Heneage?"

      "I did not see Mr. Heneage at all then. I saw only Mr. Edwin Barley. He came up to Philip King, asking what was СКАЧАТЬ