The Mysteries of Heron Dyke: A Novel of Incident. Volume 3 (of 3)Speight, T. W. (Thomas Wilkinson)
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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
"I beg your pardon," he said, resuming his seat, and quite calm now,
"I thought I heard my servant knock. About this business, Miss Winter.
If one were to take heed of all the idle tales set afloat by ignorant
and foolish people, one would have little else to do. The late Mr.
Denison was an eccentric man in many ways, as you yourself must be
well aware. He was a man of strong individuality and of crotchety
temper; a man who did very few things in quite the same way as
ordinary people do them. There were, besides, certain peculiar
features in connection with the disposition of his property, which
were well known in the neighbourhood, and which acted as a magnet to
the curiosity of the world. These points being granted, we have at
once a foundation for the most ridiculous fancies and the most
exaggerated gossip; but if we quietly set ourselves to sift these
rumours, what do we find?"
Ella did not speak.
"If you will allow me, Miss Winter, I will take the case as stated in
your own words. You say that for some months before Mr. Denison died
he was immured away from everyone except three or four people, and
kept, as it were, under lock and key. Granted; but it was done
entirely at his own request. You perhaps remember something of that
queer crotchet he had in his head that the precincts of the Hall, and
even the Hall itself, were haunted by spies set on to watch him by
certain people--his relatives, I believe, but of that I know little.
This notion seemed to take fuller hold of him as his birthday drew
nearer. He insisted on having his rooms shut in from the rest of the
house; he decreed that only a very few individuals, those whom he
could implicitly trust, should have access to him. None of the
ordinary servants were to go near him; for aught he knew, he would
declare, they might be spies. It was an hallucination I combated as
far as I was able; but contradiction, especially on this point, only
irritated him. More than once it brought on one of his fits of
passion, and so undid, or partially undid, the good I was striving to
do him in other ways."
This was quite feasible, probably true, and Miss Winter bowed her head
in acquiescence. The Doctor resumed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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