"Well," the Major continued, "you've heard how that blackguard Ellis let
me down over those shares? The result?--I had to sell the Hall--Fennel
Hall, where a Dale has been since the time of Elizabeth! But still,
never mind! that's not the story. This place, Low Fennel, is really
part of the estate, and I have leased it from Meyers, who has bought the
Hall. It was formerly the home farm, but since my father's time it has
not been used for that purpose. The New Farm is over the brow of the
hill there, on the other side of the high road; my father built it."
"Why?"
"Well,"--Dale shifted uneasily and a look of perplexity crossed his
jolly, red face--"there were stories--uncomfortable stories. To cut a
long story short, Seager--a man named Seager, who occupied it at the
time I was at Sandhurst--was found dead here, or something; I never was
clear as to the particulars, but there was an inquiry and a lot of fuss,
and, in short, no one would occupy the property. Therefore the governor
built the New Farm."
"Low Fennel has been empty for many years then?"
"No, sir; only for one. Ord, the head gardener at the Hall, lived here
up till last September. The old story about Seager was dying out, you
see; but Ord must have got to hear about it--or I've always supposed
so. At any rate, in September--a dam' hot September, too, almost if not
quite as hot as this--Ord declined to live here any longer."
"On what grounds?"
"He told me a cock-and-bull story about his wife having seen a
horrible-looking man with a contorted face peering in at her bedroom
window! I questioned the woman, of course, and she swore to it."
He mopped his heated brow excitedly, and burnt several matches before he
succeeded in relighting his cigar.
"She tried to make me believe that she woke up and saw this apparition,
but I bullied the truth out of her, and, as I expected, the man Ord had
come home the worse for drink. I made up my mind that the contorted face
was the face of her drunken husband--whom she had declined to admit, and
who therefore had climbed the ivy to get in at the open window."
"She denied this?"
"Of course she denied it; they both did; but, from evidence obtained at
the _Three Keys_ in the village, I proved that Ord had returned home
drunk that night. Still"--he shrugged his shoulders ponderously--"the
people declined to remain in the place, so what could I do? Ord was a
good gardener, and his drunken habits in no way interfered with his
efficiency. He gained nothing out of the matter except that, instead
of keeping Low Fennel, a fine house, I sent him to live in one of the
Valley Cottages. He lives there now, for he's still head gardener at
the Hall."