THE EARL AND THE FARMER――MR. WRENCH ENGAGED.
Owing in a great measure to the kind ministrations of her father and
her two friends, John and Maude Ashbrook, Miss Jamblin recovered from
the terrible shock she had received from her brother’s untimely end.
She was sad, it is true, and her spirits seemed to be crushed, but she
was no longer in a dangerous state, and was able to converse freely
with her companions, and view matters with something like a spirit of
resignation.
One morning the inmates of Stoke Ferry Farm House were surprised at
seeing Lord Ethalwood’s carriage being driven up to the front door of
the house, his lordship himself being in the vehicle in question.
The footman signified that the Earl desired to speak to Mr. Jamblin,
who was of course a little disconcerted, as it was the first time he
had been honoured by a visit from so distinguished a personage.
The earl was shown into the best room, and the farmer, in a great
state of flustration, entered at once to pay his respects to his
landlord.
“Your servant, my lord,” said Jamblin; “and many thanks for all your
kindness and consideration.”
“I am glad to meet you,” said the earl, offering his hand, “Pray be
seated, Jamblin.”
The farmer obeyed. His visitor proceeded――
“I have deemed it a matter on duty to wait upon you for the purpose of
offering what poor consolation I can in the hour of your affliction,”
said the earl, in his usual measured accents. “You have sustained a
loss, Mr. Jamblin, which we all of us know to be irreparable, and no
one is more sensibly impressed with this painful fact than myself; but
you must strive, my worthy friend, to bear up against this severe
trial as best you can.”
“Ah, my lord, I ha’ striven, and be a-strivin’ now,” exclaimed
Jamblin, in broken accents, “but it ha’ bin a sore trial――a terrible
trial, and that be the truth. Mek the best on it I’ll try.”
“We’ve all our trials and troubles in this world, Jamblin. Up to the
present time the police have been unsuccessful in their search for the
man who committed this atrocious crime. I have offered a reward, as
you doubtless know, but it has not been attended with any satisfactory
result at present.”
“It’s very kind of your lordship to take such an interest in this
matter, an’ I hardly know how to sufficiently thank ’ee.”
“There is no need for thanks, but I’ve been thinking that it would be
as well to have recourse to other means to trace out the scoundrel who
has imbrued his hand with the blood of an honourable young man.”
“Other means?” repeated the farmer, not knowing very well what his
visitor was driving at.
“Yes, if it meet with your approval. I dare say you heard that I had
occasion to employ an experienced and intelligent detective in a
matter of business which was both difficult and intricate――but he
succeeded; and for this reason I have the greatest confidence in his
discretion and ability. I will, if you have no objection, enlist his
services in this matter, which concerns both of us, but you in
particular. The gentleman’s name is Wrench.”
“I’ve heard on him. Yes, a very sharp, clever fellow, I’ve bin told.”
“Yes. Well, you have no objection to my placing the matter in his
hands?”
“None in the least.”
“So that matter is settled. I shall send him to you, and you will have
to give him all the information you can.”
“Certainly, my lord.”
“And now there is another matter to which I have to make reference. My
man tells me that your daughter is somewhat better.”
“She be far better than she has.”
“Is more herself?”
“She’s not quite herself at present――that none ov us can expect――but
she be better――a deal better.”
“Change of scene is requisite for her. She’ll never get well without a
change; there are too many things in Stoke Ferry to remind her of a
dear brother who is gone. I think it would materially hasten her
recovery if she paid a visit to the hall.”
“To where?” inquired Jamblin, who hardly dared trust his ears.
“To Broxbridge Hall――to my residence. My grand-daughter would do
everything in her power to make her life as cheerful and happy as
possible.”
The farmer was astonished. The great Lord Ethalwood to invite his
daughter as a guest at his manorial residence!
It was hardly credible. He did not know what reply to make.
Lord Ethalwood was reported to be proud to a fault, and such
condescension on his part was, therefore, the more surprising.
“I beg yer pardon, my lord. It be very kind on ye to do my poor gell
so much honour, but――――”
“Well, Jamblin, but what, my friend?”
“She’s as good a gell as ever cheered a father’s heart, but she aint
fit company for thee or thine. It be kind and considerate of you, my
lord, an’ I shall never forget this offer, which, after all, you would
not think it right of me to accept.”
“I am not in the habit of making any offer or giving any invitation
with the idea that it will be declined,” said the Earl, haughtily. “I
wish and desire Miss Jamblin to be my guest for a few days――or it may
be a few weeks. At Broxbridge new scenes will be opened to her, and
these will do much in assuaging her grief. Don’t misunderstand me, Mr.
Jamblin, I shall be glad to receive her. She will be a companion to my
grand-daughter Aveline.”
The farmer’s breath appeared to be taken away; he made no reply, but
bowed in a manner, which, under any other circumstances, would have
been extremely comic.
“You will make her acquainted with my wishes, and assure her that she
is not asked out of mere compliment,” said the earl, in continuation.
“If she feels herself well enough to leave home my grand-daughter will
receive her to-morrow, or as soon afterwards as may be agreeable to
herself. Make it agreeable to yourselves. And, touching the other
matter――I mean with regard to Wrench――that I will see to.”
The earl rose, and, bidding the farmer good morning, entered his
carriage and was driven off.
Mr. Jamblin was a little dazed, and it took him some minutes to gather
his thoughts together.
When this had been done he sought John and Maude Ashbrook, who were in
the garden at the rear of his house.
He made them acquainted with all that had transpired in the best
parlour.
His young friends were equally as astonished as himself, but they both
coincided in the opinion that Miss Jamblin ought at once, without
hesitation or delay, to pay a visit to the earl’s palatial residence.
Maude went upstairs to communicate the intelligence to her friend
Patty.
“He be a real gentleman, every inch on him,” said the farmer to young
Ashbrook; “that I always knew, but I didn’t think he was so
tender-hearted.”
“His manner is usually austere,” said Ashbrook, “but I suppose it’s
the way wi’ most of the big pots――but he’s none the worse for that.
His heart’s in the right place. And so he’s going to employ a
detective?”
“Yes he be.”
“What is your opinion? Do ’ee think it wer’ that Giles, as used to
work here, as did the foul deed?”
“I dunno, but I ’xpect it be. He was always an evil-disposed fellow.”
“And his motive?”
“Ah, there you beat me. Some people do deeds o’ this sort without any
motive; but you see,” said the farmer, sinking his voice to a whisper,
“poor Philip got hampered and cajoled by that gell Nell Fulford, an’
it be true enough what’s been sed over and over agen, there never was
any mischief in this world but what a woman has summut to do wi’ it.”
“Oh, hang it, don’t blame poor Nell. She did her best to save Phil. If
he’d harkened to her counsel the chances are that he would be wi’ us
now. Don’t blame Nell.”
“I don’t blame her, but it were a bad business his ever taking up wi’
her. He ought to have know hisself better; but there it was to be, I
’spose, an’ it ain’t o’ no use making matters worse by thinking o’ all
these things; but I tell ’ee, John, it ha’ been a sore trouble to me.”
As the old farmer said this his eyes filled with tears, and he turned
away and entered the house.
Miss Jamblin was prevailed upon to give a reluctant consent to pay a
visit to Broxbridge Hall, and on the day following the earl’s
interview with Jamblin, the carriage was again at the door of Stoke
Ferry House. In it was Aveline herself, who had come to fetch Patty
Jamblin, who was taken by storm and whirled on to Broxbridge before
she had time for reflection.
It is needless to say that the farmer’s daughter was treated with the
greatest kindness and consideration by Aveline Gatliffe.
Meanwhile, the earl had telegraphed to Scotland-yard for Mr. Wrench,
who hastened down to Broxbridge by the first train.
“Lord Ethalwood wanted to see him on most important business,” so the
telegram said.
What this was Mr. Wrench was not able to divine, so he thought it just
as well to drop into the “Carved Lion” before ringing the big bell at
the Hall.
He had a long conversation with Brickett, who told him all the news.
“And depend on it that’s what the earl wishes to see you about,
leastways that’s my opinion. He’d gi’ any money to find out the
murderer of Phil Jamblin.”
After picking up all the information he could Mr. Wrench waited upon
the earl.
“Well, my lord, I am here again at your service,” said the detective.
“If you will kindly explain to me the nature of the business it shall
receive every attention.”
“It is this, Mr. Wrench――a brutal murder has been committed in
Larchgrove-road. It is now some weeks ago since it took place, and the
police have failed to find the guilty person.”
“I want you to give the matter your undivided attention, to strive in
every possible way to find out the man.”
“You are acquainted with a good many people in this neighbourhood――push
your inquiries in every quarter. Do your best.”
“That you may rely upon my doing.”
“Yes, but you see, Mr. Wrench, I don’t know why it is, but the police
seem to me to be so often in fault.”
“In what way, my lord?”
“Perhaps I am wrong in making use of so strong an expression. I don’t
know that they are positively in fault, but certainly, scoundrels of
the very deepest dye seem to contrive to elude them. I cannot see why
this is. I should have thought, with the extensive machinery we have
in the shape of a well-organised police force, together with the
detective department, that it would have been next to impossible for a
man who was well known to be concealed for any length of time.”
The detective smiled, and said, “You have no idea, my lord, of the
difficulties of detection. They are almost incalculable. I am sure we
all of us do our best. If we don’t succeed, it is some unknown cause
which lies far beyond our reach. Every effort has already been made on
the part of the local constabulary as well as the metropolitan.
Nevertheless, it will never do to give the case up as hopeless. I am
ready to set to work at once.”
“Thank you. I am glad of that, as I have great confidence in you. That
I need hardly say, seeing that you have given me such unmistakable
proof of your ability. I have jotted down all the particulars in
reference to the case,” said the earl, drawing from his desk a paper,
“and at the same time I have made marginal notes and suggestions
there. You will use your own discretion about adopting them or
rejecting them as you please. The _modus operandi_ I leave to you.
What money you require Mr. Chicknell will furnish you with, and I do
hope and trust you may be successful.”
Mr. Wrench bowed, took the paper, and promised to set actively to
work, and the Earl felt assured that the murderer of Philip Jamblin
would not be long at large.