The Vanished MessengerOppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips)
General
The Vanished Messenger
Oppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips)
Detective and mystery stories; Fiction
“No one else,” she went on, “would come to you because of Mr. Fentolin.
He does not wish to have you here. They love him so much in the village
that he had only to breathe the word. It was enough.”
“Yet you are here,” he reminded her.
“I do not count,” she answered. “I am outside all these things.”
Hamel gave a little sigh of satisfaction.
“Well, I am glad you could come, anyhow. If you have something for
dinner, I should like it in about half an hour.”
He climbed the narrow stairs which led to his bedroom. To his surprise,
there were many things there for his comfort which he had forgotten to
order--clean bed-linen, towels, even a curtain upon the window.
“Where did you get all the linen up-stairs from, Mrs. Cox?” he asked
her, when he descended. “The room was almost empty yesterday, and I
forgot nearly all the things I meant to bring home from Norwich.”
“Mrs. Seymour Fentolin sent down a hamper for you,” the woman replied,
“with a message from Mr. Fentolin. He said that nothing among the
oddments left by your father had been preserved, but that you were
welcome to anything you desired, if you would let them know at the
Hall.”
“It is very kind of both of them,” Hamel said thoughtfully.
The woman stood still for a moment, looking at him. Then she drew a step
nearer.
“Has Mr. Fentolin given you the key of the shed?” she asked, very
quietly.
Hamel shook his head.
“We don’t need the place, do we?”
“He did not give you the key?” she persisted.
“Mr. Fentolin said that he had some things in there which he wished to
keep locked up,” he explained.
She remained thoughtful for several moments. Then she turned away.
“No,” she said, “it was not likely he would not give you that key!”
Hamel dined simply but comfortably. Mrs. Cox cleared away the things,
brought him his coffee, and appeared a few minutes later, her shawl
wrapped around her, ready for departure.
“I shall be here at seven o’clock in the morning, sir,” she announced.
Hamel was a little startled. He withdrew the pip from his mouth and
looked at her.
“Why, of course,” he remarked. “I’d forgotten. There is no place for you
to stay here.”
“I shall go back to my brother’s.” she said.
Hamel put some money upon the table.
“Please get anything that is necessary,” he directed. “I shall leave you
to do the housekeeping for a few days.”
“Shall you be staying here long, sir?” she asked.
“I am not sure,” he replied.
“I do not suppose,” she said, “that you will stay for very long. I shall
get only the things that you require from day to day. Good night, sir.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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