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Updated: May 19, 2025
"He says alleged will!" Peggie turned to Barthorpe with an appealing glance. "Barthorpe!" she exclaimed. "Is that fair is it generous? Is it just to our uncle's memory? You know that is his will what doubt can there be about it?" Barthorpe made no answer. He still stood with one hand on the door, looking at Mr. Halfpenny. And suddenly he spoke. "What do you wish to ask me?" he said.
Ever since his return from Barthorpe he had been making attempts to get at the true meaning of this mystery. He had paid so many visits to the Cathedral Library that Ambrose Campany had asked him jestingly if he was going in for archaeology; Bryce had replied that having nothing to do just then he saw no reason why he shouldn't improve his knowledge of the antiquities of Wrychester.
"You put it very cleverly." "Then why don't you answer my question?" demanded Barthorpe. Burchill laughed softly. "Why not answer mine?" he said. "However, I'll ask it in another and more direct form. Have you seen my signature as witness to a will made by Jacob Herapath?" "Yes," replied Barthorpe. "Are you sure it was my signature?" asked Burchill.
In Bryce's opinion, it was something of a wild-goose chase to go there, but the similarity in the name of the village and of the dead man at Wrychester might have its significance, and it was but a two miles' stroll from Barthorpe. He found Braden Medworth a very small, quiet, and picturesque place, with an old church on the banks of a river which promised good sport to anglers.
"Now," he said, "we'll just go through the evidence which has been brought against these two men, Barthorpe and Burchill, which evidence has resulted in Barthorpe being committed for trial and in the police's increased anxiety to lay hold of Burchill. The police theory, after all, is a very simple one let's take it and their evidence point by point.
Halfpenny shook his head with profound solemnity. "I am not in the least surprised to hear that," he observed. "Barthorpe naturally received a great shock. What I am surprised at is the terms of the will. Nothing whatever to Barthorpe his only male relative his only brother's only son. Extraordinary! My dear," he continued, turning to Peggie, "can you account for this?
"Well," he answered after a moment's thought, "I'll qualify that by saying that from the evidence I have, and from what I know, I believe it to be an indisputable fact. What I do know of fact, hard, positive fact, is this: John Brake married a Mary Bewery at the parish church of Braden Medworth, near Barthorpe, in Leicestershire: I've seen the entry in the register with my own eyes.
"In consequence of finding the book about Barthorpe in the suit-case," said Mitchington, "we sent a long telegram yesterday to the police there, telling them what had happened, and asking them to make the most careful inquiries at once about any townsman of theirs of the name of John Braden, and to wire us the result of such inquiries this morning. This is their reply, received by us an hour ago.
The coachman looked round amongst the listeners as if he were a little perplexed. "Why, sir," he answered, turning back to Barthorpe, "there was nothing happened! At least, I mean to say, there was nothing happened that didn't always happen on such occasions Mr.
"I know next to nothing about my family history," said Barthorpe; "but if my knowledge is helpful to what we or I want to talk about, fire ahead!" "Good!" responded Burchill. "Now, just tell me what you know about Mr. Jacob Herapath, about his brother, your father, and about his sister, who was, of course, Miss Wynne's mother. Briefly concisely." "Not so much," answered Barthorpe.
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