In his terror Marks spoke at random; the officers heard him upbraid the young man for what he had done, for making him an accomplice, as it were. Every word that the old servant gasped out over the senseless body of his master was a link in the chain of evidence against the son. George made no answer. He stood like a man in a dream, dazed, almost unconscious of what was going on around him. They raised the squire and put him in his chair again, but his eyes wandered vacantly round the room, and he kept mumbling to himself, ‘My son! It was my son!’ The shock had unhinged his reason. CHAPTER XXXI. IS SLIGHTLY RETROSPECTIVE. We left Mr. Jabez Duck, a few chapters back, in anything but a comfortable situation. When he had recovered from his astonishment at the sight of his sister, Miss Jackson, and Mrs. Turvey, he endeavoured to stammer out that he’d be back in a moment, and made for the door. But Georgina was too quick for him. ‘I must speak to you at once,’ she said, imperiously, ‘on _private_ business.’ The accent on the word private was marked and intentional. Mrs. Turvey took the hint. ‘Which if I am in the way, Jabez, let me go into another room while this person tells you her business.’ Now Mrs. Turvey knew very well that Georgina was Jabez’s sister, and Georgina was quite aware of Mrs. Turvey’s identity, but it pleased them both to affect the most supreme ignorance. ‘Jabez,’ exclaimed Miss Duck indignantly, ‘who is this female who addresses you so familiarly, and calls me a “person”?’ ‘Who am I?’ gasped Mrs. Turvey, fairly roused by Georgina’s manner, and coming bustling up close to her. ‘I’ll let you know who I am, madam. I’m not a female. I’m a respectable hard-working woman, as isn’t going to be humbugged about any longer by your precious oily snake of a brother.’ ‘Ladies, ladies!’ stammered Jabez, polishing his brow furiously, and bursting out into quite a watery shine with perspiration; ‘Pray, pray compose yourselves! The firm will hear you. Pray remember where you are!’ Jabez might as well have asked the north wind not to blow as Georgina and Mrs. Turvey to be quiet. They were fairly started on a race for the last word. Besides, weeks of pent-up scorn and indignation had to be worked off. In vain Jabez implored them to be silent. In vain Miss Jackson shed tears and urged Georgina, for her sake, to be calm. At last, when it was within an inch of a single-stick duel between Georgina’s parasol and Mrs. Turvey’s umbrella, Jabez fairly lost his temper, and, rushing between them in time to receive both umbrella and parasol on his own unprotected and shiny bald head, seized the first combatant he could catch hold of, and dragged her away. It was Mrs. Turvey. That estimable lady, flushed, excited, and prepared for desperate deeds, no sooner saw Jabez, as she presumed, espouse his sister’s side, than with a terrific effort she became suddenly calm.