Greensea Island: A Mystery of the Essex CoastBridges, Victor
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Greensea Island: A Mystery of the Essex Coast
Bridges, Victor
Adventure stories; Detective and mystery stories; England -- Fiction; Inheritance and succession -- Fiction
He nodded ungraciously. "I reckon it's good enough--considerin' the
party wot's expected. I'm just settin' about laying the table now."
"Well, let me know when the doctor arrives," I said. "I am going
upstairs to change, and I don't want him wandering round the house by
himself."
"I'll see to that, sir," was Bascomb's grim answer, and without
another word he resumed his interrupted progress towards the
dining-room.
On reaching my own apartment, I sat down on the bed and opened Mr.
Drayton's letter. It was not typed, but written in his own
handwriting, and bore the previous day's date.
"MY DEAR DRYDEN,--If you can tear yourself away from the numerous
attractions of Greensea Island, I should be glad to see your
cheery countenance in town one day this week. There are several
fresh papers I want you to sign, and one or two details in
connection with the estate which it would be more convenient to
talk over than to write about.
"I hope that you have found things fairly comfortable, and that
Bascomb and the dog have proved themselves to be entertaining
companions.
"I saw our mutual friend, Inspector Campbell, yesterday. He
enquired affectionately after you, and was particularly anxious
to know how you were getting on. I fancy he is still a little
piqued--professionally--over his failure to discover anything
with reference to your late uncle. At all events he seems to be
under the impression that there is something remarkably
mysterious with regard to the whole affair, and that sooner or
later fresh developments are bound to crop up. Let us hope that
they will take the pleasant shape of a bundle of missing
securities.
"Ring me up as soon as you get to town, and we will fix something
in the way of lunch or dinner.
"Yours sincerely,
"GEORGE DRAYTON."
Laying this genial missive down on the dressing-table, I began slowly
to change my clothes.
I had no objection to a run up to town the next day; indeed, on the
whole, the prospect distinctly appealed to me. I should be glad to
see Mr. Drayton again and find out how my affairs were progressing,
while, after a week on the island, I was quite ready for a little
mild dissipation in the shape of a good dinner or a theatre.
I promised myself, too, that I would take the opportunity of looking
up Inspector Campbell, who had given me his address the day we
lunched at the Holborn. From the moment of my first introduction to
him I had felt a curious confidence in this big, shrewd,
slow-speaking Scotsman, and I derived no little comfort from the
knowledge that he was still taking a friendly interest in my welfare.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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