CHAPTER XLII
關燈
小
中
大
od!isitpossible?”saidMr.Wilcox.“Inyourmother’shouse!Charles,inyourmother’shouse!”
“Iknow,pater.ThatwaswhatIfelt.Asamatteroffact,thereisnoneedtotroubleabouttheman.Hewasinthelaststagesofheartdisease,andjustbeforeIcouldshowhimwhatIthoughtofhimhewentoff.Thepoliceareseeingaboutitatthismoment.”
Mr.Wilcoxlistenedattentively.
“Igotupthere—oh,itcouldn’thavebeenmorethanhalf-pastseven.TheAverywomanwaslightingafireforthem.Theywerestillupstairs.Iwaitedinthedrawing-room.Wewereallmoderatelycivilandcollected,thoughIhadmysuspicions.Igavethemyourmessage,andMrs.Wilcoxsaid,‘Ohyes,Iseeyes,’inthatwayofhers.”
“Nothingelse?”
“Ipromisedtotellyou,‘withherlove,’thatshewasgoingtoGermanywithhersisterthisevening.Thatwasallwehadtimefor.”
Mr.Wilcoxseemedrelieved.
“BecausebythenIsupposethemangottiredofhiding,forsuddenlyMrs.Wilcoxscreamedouthisname.Irecognisedit,andIwentforhiminthehall.WasIright,pater?Ithoughtthingsweregoingalittletoofar.”
“Right,mydearboy?Idon’tknow.Butyouwouldhavebeennosonofmineifyouhadn’t.Thendidhejust—just—crumpleupasyousaid?”Heshrunkfromthesimpleword.
“Hecaughtholdofthebookcase,whichcamedownoverhim.SoImerelyputthesworddownandcarriedhimintothegarden.Weallthoughthewasshamming.However,he’sdeadrightenough.Awfulbusiness!”
“Sword?”criedhisfat
