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He was beginning to imagine all sorts of things and theories; he was taking everything in. "Well," continued Mr. Quarterpage, "on the second day after that, they brought Chamberlayne's body down. Three of 'em came with it Stephen Chamberlayne, the doctor who'd been called in, and a solicitor. Everything was done according to proper form and usage.
And the people actively concerned went quietly to work, and those who could do nothing but watch stood around in silence. "In all my long life of over ninety years," whispered old Quarterpage, who had met them at the cemetery gates, looking fresh and brisk in spite of his shortened rest, "I have never seen this done before.
"Fifty aye, forty! years ago, to be in possession of one of those tickets was was " "A grand thing!" said one of the old gentlemen. "Mr. Lummis is right," said Mr. Quarterpage. "It was a grand thing a very grand thing. Those tickets, sir, were treasured are treasured. And yet you, a stranger, show us one! You got it, sir " Spargo saw that it was now necessary to cut matters short.
Quarterpage was a youthful buck of ninety a middle-sized, sturdily-built man, straight as a dart, still active of limb, clear-eyed, and strong of voice. His clean-shaven old countenance was ruddy as a sun-warmed pippin; his hair was still only silvered; his hand was steady as a rock.
Some mistake arose when Maitland was released, he got clear away. Nobody's ever heard a word of him from that day to this. Unless Miss Baylis has." "Where does this Miss Baylis live?" asked Spargo. "Well, I don't know," replied Mr. Quarterpage. "She did live in Brighton when she took the child away, and her address was known, and I have it somewhere.
"If you were acquainted with this town you would know that those are the names of our best-known inhabitants all, of course, burgesses. There's mine, you see Quarterpage. There's Lummis, there's Kaye, there's Skene, there's Templeby the gentlemen you saw last night. All good old town names. They all are on this list. I know every family mentioned.
He got interested in this Chamberlayne case, and he began to make enquiries with the idea of getting hold of some good what do you call it?" "I suppose he'd call it 'copy," said Spargo. "'Copy' that was his term," agreed Mr. Quarterpage. "Well, he took the trouble to go to London to ask some quiet questions of the nephew, Stephen. That was just twelve months after Chamberlayne had been buried.
And what's more, nearly every one of those fifty families is still in the town, or if not in the town, close by it, or if not close by it, I know where they are. Therefore, I cannot make out how this young gentleman from London, did you say, sir?" "From London," answered Spargo. "This young gentleman from London comes to be in possession of one of our tickets," continued Mr. Quarterpage.
I should have had that death and burial enquired into. The whole thing looks to me like a conspiracy." "Well, sir, it was, as I say, nobody's business," said Mr. Quarterpage. "The newspaper gentleman tried to stir up interest in it, but it was no good, and very soon afterwards he left. And there it is." "Mr. Quarterpage," said Spargo, "what's your own honest opinion?" The old gentleman smiled.
Spargo tapped the newspaper, which he had retained while the old gentleman talked. "Then they didn't believe what his counsel said that Chamberlayne got all the money?" he asked. Mr. Quarterpage laughed. "No nor anybody else!" he answered.
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