“AUGUSTIN AMBROSE.”
Mr. Juxon was delighted to find that the difficult
task of putting Mrs. Ambrose in possession of the
facts of the case had been accomplished in the ordinary,
the very ordinary, course of events by her own determination
to find out what was to be known. In an hour she
might be at Goddard’s bedside, and Mrs. Goddard
would be free to see her husband. He despatched
a note at once and redoubled his attentions to the
sick man whose condition, however, showed no signs
of changing.
Mrs. Ambrose kept her word and arrived with the vicar
before nine o’clock, protesting her determination
to take care of poor Goddard, so long as he needed
any care. Mr. Juxon warned her that John did not
know who the man was, and entreated her to be careful
of her speech when John was present. There was
no reason why John should ever know anything more
about it, he said; three could keep a secret, but no
one knew whether four could be as discreet.
The squire took Mrs. Ambrose and her husband to Goddard’s
room and telling her that Doctor Longstreet was expected
in an hour, by which time he himself hoped to have
returned, he left the two good people in charge of
the sick man and went to see Mrs. Goddard. He
sent John a message to the effect that all was well
and that he should take some rest while the Ambroses
relieved the watch, and having thus disposed his household
he went out, bound upon one of the most disagreeable
errands he had ever undertaken. But he set his
teeth and walked boldly down the park.
At the turn of the avenue he paused, at the spot where
Goddard had attacked him. There was nothing to
be seen at first, for the road was hard and dry and
there was no trace of the scuffle; but as the squire
looked about he spied his hat, lying in the ditch,
and picked it up. It was heavy with the morning
dew and the brim was broken and bent where Goddard’s
weapon had struck it. Hard by in a heap of driven
oak leaves lay the weapon itself, which Mr. Juxon
examined curiously. It was a heavy piece of hewn
oak, evidently very old, and at one end a thick iron
spike was driven through, the sharp point projecting
upon one side and the wrought head upon the other.
He turned it over in his hands and realised that he
had narrowly escaped his death. Then he laid the
hat and the club together and threw a handful of leaves
over them, intending to take them to the Hall at a
later hour, and he turned to go upon his way towards
the cottage. But as he turned he saw two men coming
towards him, and now not twenty yards away. His
heart sank, for one of the two was Thomas Gall the
village constable; the other was a quiet-looking individual
with grey whiskers, plainly dressed and unassuming
in appearance. Instinctively the squire knew
that Gall’s companion must be a detective.
He was startled, and taken altogether unawares; but
the men were close upon him and there was nothing
to be done but to face them boldly.
