Murder Mysteries for the Holiday Season. Джером К. Джером

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      VIII

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      By the next morning the news of the burglary had not only spread all through Tidbury, but all through the adjacent villages as well. The very first person who called at No. 12, to see how they did after the fright of the night before, was Mr Colebatch. The old gentleman’s voice was heard louder than ever, as he ascended the stairs with the landlady. He declared he would have both the Tidbury watchmen turned off, as totally unfit to take care of the town. He swore that, if it cost him a hundred pounds, he would fetch the Bow Street Runners down from London, and procure the catching, trying, convicting, and hanging of ‘those two infernal housebreakers’ before Christmas came. Invoking vengeance and retribution in this way, at every fresh stair, the Squire’s temperament was up at ‘bloodheat’, by the time he got into the drawing-room. It fell directly, however, to ‘temperate’ again, when he found nobody there; and it sank twenty degrees lower still, at the sight of little Annie’s face, when she came down to see him.

      ‘Cheer up, Annie!’ said the old gentleman with a last faint attempt at joviality. ‘It’s all over now, you know: how’s grandfather? Very much frightened still — eh?’

      ‘Oh, sir! frightened, I’m afraid out of his mind!’ and unable to control herself any longer, poor Annie fairly burst into tears.

      ‘Don’t cry, Annie! no crying! I can’t stand it — you mustn’t really!’ said the Squire in anything but steady tones, ‘I’ll talk him back into his mind; I will, as sure as my name’s Matthew Colebatch — Stop!’ (here he pulled out his voluminous India pocket handkerchief, and began very gently and caressingly to wipe away her tears, as if she had been a little child, and his own daughter). ‘There, now we’ve dried them up — no we haven’t! there’s one left — And now that’s gone, let’s have a little talk about this business, my dear, and see what’s to be done. In the first place, what’s all this I hear about a plaster cast being broken?’

      Annie would have given the world to open her heart about the mask of Shakespeare, to Mr Colebatch; but she thought of her promise, and she thought, also, of the Town Council of Stratford, who might hear of the secret somehow, if it was once disclosed to anybody; and might pursue her grandfather with all the powers of the law, miserable and shattered though he now was, even to his hiding-place, at Tidbury-on-the-Marsh.

      ‘I’ve promised, sir, not to say anything about the plaster cast to anybody,’ she began, looking very embarrassed and unhappy.

      ‘And you’ll keep your promise,’ interposed the Squire; ‘that’s right — good, honest little girl! I like you all the better for it; we won’t say a word more about the cast; but what have they taken? what have the infernal scoundrels taken?’

      ‘Grandfather’s old silver watch, sir, and his purse with seventeen and sixpence in it, and my brooch — but that’s nothing.’

      ‘Nothing — Annie’s brooch nothing!’ cried the Squire, recovering his constitutional testiness. ‘But, never mind, I’m determined to have the rascals caught and hung, if it’s only for stealing that brooch! And now, look here, my dear; if you don’t want to put me into one of my passions, take that, and say nothing about it!’

      ‘Take’ what? gracious powers! ‘take’ Golconda! he had crumpled a ten pound note into her hand!

      ‘I say, again, you obstinate little thing, don’t put me in one of my passions!’ exclaimed the old gentleman, as poor Annie made some faint show of difficulty in taking the gift. ‘God forbid I should think of hurting your feelings, my dear, for such a paltry reason as having a few more pounds in my pocket, than you have in yours!’ he continued, in such serious, kind tones, that Annie’s eyes began to fill again. ‘We’ll call that bank note, if you like, payment beforehand, for a large order for lace, from me. I saw you making lace, you know, yesterday; and I mean to consider you my lace manufacturer in ordinary, for the rest of your life. By George!’ — he went on, resuming his odd abrupt manner, — ’it’s unknown the quantity of lace I shall want to buy! There’s my old housekeeper, Mrs Buddle — hang me, Annie, if I don’t dress her in nothing but lace, from top to toe, inside and out, all over! Only mind this, you don’t set to work at the order till I tell you! We must wait till Mrs Buddle has worn out her old stock of petticoats, before we begin — eh? There! there! there! don’t go crying again! Can I see Mr Wray? No? — Quite right! better not disturb him so soon. Give him my compliments, and say I’ll call tomorrow. Put up the note! put up the note! and don’t be low-spirited — and don’t do another thing, little Annie; don’t forget you’ve got a queer old friend, who lives at Cropley Court!’

      Running on in this way, the good Squire fairly talked himself out of the room, without letting Annie get in a word edgewise. Once on the stairs, he fell foul of the housebreakers again, with undiminished fury. The last thing the landlady heard him say, as she closed the street-door after him, was, that he was off now, to ‘trounce’ the two Tidbury watchmen, for not stopping the robbery — to ‘trounce them handsomely’, as sure as his name was Matthew Colebatch!

      Carefully putting away the kind old gentleman’s gift, (they were penniless before she received it), Annie returned to her grandfather’s room. He had altered a little, as the morning advanced, and was now occupied over an employment which it wrung her heart to see — he was trying to restore the mask of Shakespeare.

      The first words he had spoken since the burglary, were addressed СКАЧАТЬ