The Heart of a MysterySpeight, T. W. (Thomas Wilkinson)
General
The Heart of a Mystery
Speight, T. W. (Thomas Wilkinson)
English fiction -- 19th century; Mystery and detective stories
John looked at him for a moment as though he hardly understood his
meaning; then following Mace's lead, they all left the office, the
door of which was carefully re-locked. They had just got back to the
other office when Clement Hazeldine rushed in, white and breathless.
Although lame, Ephraim Judd, with the assistance of his stick, could
get over the ground as quickly as most people, and it did not take him
many minutes to reach Clement Hazeldine's door. Clem lodged with the
widow of the practitioner to whose business he had succeeded. He was
still in bed when Ephraim knocked, having been attending a patient
till four A.M.; but the summons sent upstairs was so peremptory that
he lost no time in coming down. In what words Ephraim told his
terrible tidings he never afterwards knew; it is sufficient that they
were told.
"What about your brother?" asked Ephraim, as soon as Clement seemed in
some measure to be recovering from the shock. "Ought he not to know as
soon as possible?"
"Will you please go and tell him, Mr. Judd, while I go down to the
Bank? There's my mother and sister, too; but Edward must break the
news to them. It seems impossible that it can be true--impossible to.
think that I shall never see my poor father alive again! What wretch's
hand has done this deed?"
Beecham, the suburb of Ashdown, where Edward Hazeldine lived, was a
clear mile and a half away. Ephraim would have hired a fly, but there
was none to be had at that early hour. He was far from being easy in
his mind as he walked along. It was almost a certainty that during his
absence Mr. Mace would discover the blood-stains on the office floor,
and Ephraim felt terribly afraid lest, by some means or other, they
should be traced back to him. He did not well see how they could be,
but his conscience made a coward of him. He had taken away the knife
that had cut his hand, and it was now locked up in his trunk at home,
while the cut itself, although it had bled a good deal at the time,
had not proved a severe one. It was in the palm of the hand, and he
had covered it with a little gold-beater's skin to keep the air out.
He made a mental note that on no account must Mr. Mace's eyes be
permitted to discover the wound.
Edward Hazeldine was an early riser. While breakfasting, he made a
point of running through his correspondence. It was a saving of
valuable time. He had just sat down to table with his heap of letters
before him when Mr. Judd was announced. Edward, who knew that Ephraim
was employed at the Bank, leaped in a moment to the conclusion that
his visitor could only be the bearer of ill news, and one glance at
the latter's grave face was enough to assure him that such was the
case.
"My father--what is amiss?" he said, as he started to his feet.
Then Ephraim had to break the same news to him that he had already
broken to his brother. Edward's face blanched, and his eyes filled
with horror as the tale was told.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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