The Mysteries of Heron Dyke: A Novel of Incident. Volume 3 (of 3)Speight, T. W. (Thomas Wilkinson)
General
The Mysteries of Heron Dyke: A Novel of Incident. Volume 3 (of 3)
Speight, T. W. (Thomas Wilkinson)
Detective and mystery stories; English fiction -- 19th century
And of course but two or three days before Miss Winter's return. And
yet no one inmate of the Hall had informed her that this nurse had
been there! It was altogether very strange.
"Did you say, Priscilla, that people at the last were not admitted to
see my uncle, save those who had the pass-keys?"
"Ma'am, not for months and months. Eliza told me she did not believe a
soul had been allowed to go in to see him since the past November. No
matter who came--the Reverend Mr. Kettle, or any other of the Squire's
old friends, they were never let go in."
"I wonder why?" involuntarily exclaimed Miss Winter.
"That I couldn't say, ma'am. Nobody could, I expect, save Dr. Jago. It
must have been frightfully lonely for him, poor sick gentleman! He was
never seen at all, or his footsteps heard, or the sound of his voice,
Eliza said. To the girl it seemed just as though he were shut up in a
living tomb."
Miss Winter asked no more questions. That something, and of set
purpose, had been hidden from her; some drama enacted within those
walls of which it was intended that she should know nothing, she
fully believed. And there came rushing into her mind Hubert Stone's
words--that if the truth were known she was no more the owner of Heron
Dyke than he was. Again and again she asked herself what the truth
was, and how it could be brought to light.
Ella carried her trouble to Mr. Kettle, her uncle's friend of many
years. She sat with him in his study, Maria being present. She
revealed to him her doubts; she hinted at Hubert's strange assertion
on the wreck; she repeated what Priscilla Peyton had said, and then
she appealed to him to advise her what she ought to do next.
The Vicar was not remarkable for penetration or sagacity, but he was a
kindly, well-disposed man where his own ease and comfort were not in
question; and if his words were sometimes weak and ineffective, he
could, when required, put on a very wise and solemn air, which in
itself was a comfort to those who sought his advice. But he really did
not see what advice he could give now.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account