"Can't wait till then, my girl, the missus may die at any moment, if the stuff ain't taken from her throat. It's hard to lose her, after all these years of fair and foul weather. I want you to come to her, Elspeth, and I'll ride my horse to that doctor, if you'll tell me where he is to be found." "I can't leave the inn just now," said Elspeth, thinking of Herries upstairs, depending upon her assistance. "We're in dreadful trouble." "A pot of beer, please," said Sweetlips, quickly. "What's up?" "There's been a murder." "Lor! You don't tell me so." "Yes. An old gentleman has been killed----" "And the murderer is shut in a bedroom upstairs," finished Pope with a leer. "He is not the murderer," said the girl indignantly, and turning a shade paler. "I don't know who killed Sir Simon Tedder, but I am quite sure that Mr. Herries didn't." "Sir Simon Tedder," said Kind, dropping the pot of beer from his mouth. "The millionaire cove? Is he a deader?" "His throat has been cut," said Pope, eagerly. "Not by Mr. Herries," retorted Elspeth. "Lor!" said Kind again, "Why, I've got some of his jam stuff, with the name on the tins. Here's a go. I could do a bit of business on this here," he went on, his lip trembling, "folk always crowd to places where a murder's been committed. But I've Rachel to think of. Come, Elspeth," he ended entreatingly, "come to the missus, and lemme go for the doctor." "A doctor will be here soon from Tarhaven to examine the body," said Pope filling another pewter. "The Inspector and the police are in the house, and the doctor is to follow." "Two doctors will be here," corrected Elspeth, struck with a sudden thought. "I sent a telegram from the station to Dr. James Browne, who is a friend of Mr. Herries." "You'll get into trouble with the police," Pope warned her. "What do I care for the police, so long as Mr. Herries is proved innocent?" cried the girl passionately. "But if you will wait for a short time," she continued, addressing the mournful Cheap-jack, "one or the other of the doctors will come soon." "I hope one of 'em will be in time to save my Rachel," said Kind with a sigh. "Lor, what a go it will be if I lose her. She's been the sun and the moon to yours truly for years." Pope sniggered. "If you're in such a hurry," he said in an unkindly tone, "ask Mr. Herries to see your wife. Mr. Gowrie told me that he is a doctor, and he's on the spot." Elspeth's pale cheeks flamed, and she clasped her hands. "Oh!" she cried, passionately, "do you think the police would let him go and see Mrs. Kind." "Not much," snapped Pope and giggled. "He's got to see Old Ketch." "Young man," said Sweetlips sternly, "I've knocked down a cove for speaking more politely than you do. Not so much of it, do you hear?"