The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 17, No. 99, January, 1866: A Magazine of Literature, Science, Art, and PoliticsVarious
General
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 17, No. 99, January, 1866: A Magazine of Literature, Science, Art, and Politics
Various
American periodicals
It wanted just three days to the funeral, when Mr. Charlton's own
carriage, long unused, was found to be out of repair. Griffith had it
sent to the nearest town, and followed it on that and other business.
Now it happened to be what the country folk called "justicing day"; and
who should ride into the yard of the "Roebuck" but the new magistrate,
Mr. Neville? He alighted off a great bony gray horse before Griffith's
very nose, and sauntered into a private room.
Griffith looked, and looked, and, scarcely able to believe his senses,
followed Neville's horse to the stable, and examined him all round.
Griffith was sore perplexed, and stood at the stable-door glaring at the
horse; and sick misgivings troubled him. He forgot the business he came
about, and went and hung about the bar, and tried to pick up a clew to
this mystery. The poor wretch put on a miserable assumption of
indifference, and asked one or two of the magistrates if that was not
Mr. Peyton's gray horse young Neville had ridden in upon.
Now amongst these gentlemen was a young squire Miss Peyton had refused,
and galled him. He had long owed Gaunt a grudge for seeming to succeed
where he had notably failed, and now, hearing him talk so much about the
gray, he smelt a rat. He stepped into the parlor and told Neville Gaunt
was fuming about the gray horse, and questioning everybody. Neville,
though he put so bold a face on his recent adventure at Peyton Hall, was
secretly smarting, and quite disposed to sting Gaunt in return. He saw a
tool in this treacherous young squire,--his name was Galton,--and used
him accordingly.
Galton, thoroughly primed by Neville, slipped back, and, choosing his
opportunity, poisoned Griffith Gaunt.
And this is how he poisoned him.
"Oh," said he, "Neville has bought the gray nag; and cost him dear, it
did."
Griffith gave a sigh of relief; for he at once concluded old Peyton had
sold his daughter's very horse. He resolved to buy her a better one next
week with Mr. Charlton's money.
But Galton, who was only playing with him, went on to explain that
Neville had paid a double price for the nag: he had given Miss Peyton
his piebald horse in exchange, and his troth into the bargain. In short,
he lent the matter so adroit a turn, that the exchange of horses seemed
to be Kate's act as much as Neville's, and the interference inevitable.
"It is a falsehood!" gasped Griffith.
"Nay," said Galton, "I had it on the best authority: but you shall not
quarrel with me about it; the lady is nought to me, and I but tell the
tale as 'twas told to me."
"Then who told it you?" said Gaunt, sternly.
"Why, it is all over the country, for that matter."
"No subterfuges, Sir! I am the lady's servant, and you know it: this
report, it slanders her, and insults me: give me the author, or I'll lay
my hunting-whip on your bones."
"Two can play at that game," said Galton; but he turned pale at the
prospect of the pastime.
Griffith strode towards him, black with ire.
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