Читать книгу The Ninth Earl - John Jeffery Farnol - Страница 4

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A shortish, powerfully built man was this famous officer, very neat as to person, from snowy shirt-frill to the very soles of his top-boots. The eight buttons upon his trim, blue coat glittered, the six upon his red waistcoat twinkled, his well-polished boots gleamed; and yet the brightest things about him were his eyes, that seemed to take in Mr. Jackman, George and the room in as many roving glances as he stood, hat in one fist, in the other a formidable knobbed stick with which he touched an eyebrow in salutation, saying:

“Your servant, gen’lemen!”

Mr. Jackman, having set forth decanter and glasses, greeted him like an old friend:

“Glad to see you again, Shrig. How are you?”

“Hearty, sir, I thankee.”

“This is my young partner, Mr. Bell, whom I think you’ve met.”

“Honoured, sir,” quoth Mr. Shrig, bobbing that round head of his.

“Well now,” said the little lawyer as they sat all three glass in hand, “wet your whistle, Shrig; keep it moist, and let us hear your report concerning this ghastly discovery at Ravenhurst Castle.”

Mr. Shrig tasted his wine, beamed at it, sipped it, sighed and spoke:

“Mr. Jackman, sir, and partner, fresh corpses, parties recently de-funct being wictims o’ the Deed or Capital Act, should ought, and generally do, have summat to tell as to the how, when and—sometimes—the oo of it—if properly ob-served. But this here long-departed party being little more than rags and bones by reason o’ rats, mice and Old Father Time, is dumb as any eyester, or—werry nearly.”

“Which,” said Mr. Jackson, refilling the glasses, “which is only to be expected, under the circumstances.”

“Ar!” sighed Mr. Shrig. “The party, de-funct, must ha’ been laying there so werry patient, vaiting to be found, say thirty, say forty year and more. But, spite o’ time and rats and mice aforesaid, this here relic o’ poor humanity has found a woice, has spoke to me, werry faint and feeble, yet strong enough to tell me certain fax as I’ve dooly wrote into my little reader.”

Here Mr. Shrig unbuttoned his trim coat and drew from its inner recesses a somewhat battered notebook, and, opening this at a certain page, continued:

“From obserwation personal—Fact number vun: long departed party a traveller nooly arrived. Evidence—boots and spurs. Fact number two: twelve silver coat-buttons. Dee-duckshon—long departed party a person o’ condition. Fact number three: no money, no joolry, not so much as a signet ring. No papers, not a scrap. Dee-duckshon—same having been removed by party or parties unknown——”

“Good God!” exclaimed Mr. Jackman. “Are you suggesting murder, Shrig?”

“Sir, I am reporting fax and the dee-duckshons drawed therefrom.”

“But this—this unfortunate individual may have been the victim of some accident, or have died by his own act, Shrig.”

“Accident, sir—p’raps. By his own act—no, sir and partner, cer-tainly not!”

“Why so sure of this, Shrig?”

“Sir, on or near deceased was never a veapon, not so much as a penknife.”

“Still, this is no proof he was murdered.”

“Hows’ever, sir and partner, on ree-moving deceased, bit by bit, and using all doo care, I ob-served a stain werry large and therefore plain, as there could be no mistaking.”

“Ah!” sighed Mr. Jackman, almost whispering. “Blood?”

“That i-denticle, sir. Deceased had bled werry copious indeed! Hence I dee-dooced same as wictim of the Capital Act, Mr. Jackman, sir and partner.”

“Now this,” said the little lawyer in voice troubled as his look, “this is perfectly shocking, and horridly mysterious!”

“Ar!” nodded Mr. Shrig, and, glancing at George: “What says your respected partner?”

“Well,” answered George, speaking for the first time, “I would know who could possibly benefit by such crime.”

“Eggs-actly!” exclaimed Mr. Shrig, closing his notebook with a snap. “Know that, and this here mystery—ain’t! And here, sirs, for your inspection, are the silver buttons aforementioned.” And from capacious side-pocket he produced a knotted bandanna handkerchief, which he untied, saying as he did so:

“They’re werry black and tarnished, vich is only to be expected seeing as they’ve been bled on so copious. Take a peep at ’em, sirs.”

Mr. Jackman did so, but very much askance.

“Yes,” said he, shrinking back in his chair, “I perceive they are silver.”

“And deeply engraved!” said George, peering closer. “A monogram—I think. But they are in such a state that I cannot make out the letters——”

“Then, sir,” said Mr. Shrig, “take a peep at this here!” and from pocket of his red waistcoat he drew another button that gleamed and glittered in the afternoon sunshine. “Now, sir, having cleaned same for your better in-spection, how about it, gen’lemen?”

With this shining button on his open palm, George held it towards Mr. Jackman, and together they examined it.

“Yes, George, by George—you’re right! It is a monogram! See, here is a ‘P’ and two ‘X’s’—which don’t make sense and can’t be. Wait though—yes, by heaven! Look, George; I’ll trace it with this pencil—watch now.”

So, wondering, George looked, and what he saw was this:

But what Mr. Jackman’s pencil traced was this:

“There! D’you see it, George, d’ye see it? P V W, Philip Vane-Wynter—the seventh Earl—who died in America! Shrig, in heaven’s name—what is the meaning of this?”

“Mr. Jackman, sir, this you are agoing to tell me—I hope. F’instance, this seventh Earl, this here Philip Vane-Wynter, sir, I’ll ax you to say all as you know concerning same.”

“Which is very little, I’m afraid. I know that he died young, somewhere in America.”

“Married or single, sir?”

“He married an American lady, but they both died young.”

“Did you know him personal, sir, or ever see him.”

“I may have done, for he was often here, in this very room, to consult with my father, who, besides being his lawyer and man of business, was also his valued friend, but I was a child then and too young to remember.”

“Hows’ever,” sighed Mr. Shrig, “can you inform me what year he died?”

“Certainly I can. George, pray bring me the Wynter deed-box, the one marked A. Thankee! Now, let’s see and make sure.”

So saying, Mr. Jackman, opening this box, took thence divers papers and packets neatly docketed and tied with red tape. Selecting one of these, he spread the sheet on the desk before him and read:

“ ‘In re Philip, George, seventh Earl of Ravenhurst, et cetera, was born at the Castle of Ravenhurst January eleven, seventeen hundred and thirty-six. Inherited the title, et cetera, March nine, seventeen fifty-five. Sailed to America seventeen fifty-seven. Married Samantha, Dorothy Mallory, seventeen fifty-eight. Killed with his wife in an Indian Massacre, seventeen hundred and sixty. So ended young Philip, George, seventh Earl.’ ”

“Har!” murmured Mr. Shrig. “In America! Died and lays buried there. Con-sequently he could never have returned to England, to his own village of Ravenhurst, nor his werry own castle o’ Ravenhurst. And yet, Mr. Jackman, sir and partner, these here buttons now tells us, werry loud and plain, as come back he surely did, and, seeing as how corpses ain’t likely travellers as a rule, except properly and dooly boxed, aforesaid buttons are telling as Philip, seventh Earl, lived long enough to bring all twelve of ’em to England, to his willage of Ravenhurst, to his castle—to his death.”

“Shrig, what are you suggesting?”

“Sir, these here buttons are saying as he came there so werry much alive, that he had to die for reasons unknown—as yet.”

“Great good heavens!” exclaimed Mr. Jackman. “You voice terrible things, Shrig!”

“Sir, ’tis these here buttons as is so elo-quent. And if their testimony don’t suffice, I have summat else here, ar—summat as speaks louder, plainer and even more to the p’int, summat as I found——” He paused suddenly as once again came a gentle tapping on the door.

“Who is it?” cried Mr. Jackman in voice wholly unlike his usual jovial tone. “Who is it?” The door opened to show Mr. Beeby bowing even lower than usual as he said in accents of awe:

“Sir, my lord the Earl of Ravenhurst to see you.” Uttering these words, he stood aside, and in this moment George instinctively rose to his feet, for now it was that he beheld the two people who were so to alter and trouble the hitherto even tenor of his life.