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Updated: May 19, 2025
I want you we all want you to tell us what you remember about the making of Jacob Herapath's will. Tell us in your own way, in whatever terms you like. Then we shall hear what your fellow-witness has to say." "Perhaps you'll let me suggest something," broke in Barthorpe, who had obviously been thinking matters over. "Lay the alleged will on the table before you, Mr.
Tertius, and Selwood in company with the newly discovered will, and walked swiftly out of the house and away from Portman Square, he passed without seeing it a quiet, yet smartly appointed coupé brougham which came round the corner from Portman Street and pulled up at the door which Barthorpe had just quitted.
He also promised if I suited him to give me his legal work. And, of course, I came." "Naturally," said Burchill. "And that's how long ago?" "Between fifteen and sixteen years," answered Barthorpe. "Did Jacob Herapath take you into his house?" asked Burchill, continuing the examination which Barthorpe was beginning to find irksome as well as puzzling.
"No one else is necessary." "And you wish me to tell, plainly, why I refuse to believe that the will is genuine?" asked Barthorpe. "Certainly yes," assented Mr. Halfpenny. Barthorpe hesitated, eyeing the old lawyer doubtfully. "It will be a painful business for my cousin," he said. "If I really haven't the faintest notion of what you mean!" exclaimed Mr. Halfpenny.
I want to get a full list. Who are the two elderly gentlemen with Mr. Barthorpe Herapath relatives, eh?" "No old personal friends," answered Selwood, good-naturedly turning aside with the little reporter. "One is Mr. Tertius Mr. J. C. Tertius a very old friend of the late Mr. Herapath's; the other is Mr. Benjamin Halfpenny, the solicitor, also an old friend."
Halfpenny's private room, where polite, if constrained, greetings passed. At five minutes past ten o'clock Mr. Halfpenny looked at Barthorpe. "We're only waiting for Mr. Burchill," he remarked. "I wrote to him after seeing you, and I received a reply from him in which he promised to be here at ten this morning. It's now " But at that moment the door opened to admit Mr.
"Let me finish my sentence," responded the Professor. "I say, I do not believe Barthorpe to be guilty of murder, though guilty enough of a particularly mean, dirty, and sneaking conspiracy to defraud his cousin. Yes, innocent of murder but it will be a stiff job to prove his innocence. As things stand, he'll be hanged safe enough!
Then Charlesworth came and told me, sir, and of course I went to the study at once, and then I saw that, wherever Mr. Herapath might be then, he certainly had been home." "You judged that from what?" asked Barthorpe. "Well, sir, it's been the rule to leave a supper-tray out for Mr. Herapath. Not much, sir whisky and soda, a sandwich or two, a dry biscuit. I saw that he'd had something, sir."
"Say nothing, my dear, at present," commanded Mr. Halfpenny, firmly. "Allow Mr. Barthorpe Herapath to have his say. Now, sir!" he went on, with a motion of his hand towards the younger solicitor. "Pray let us hear you." "In my own fashion," retorted Barthorpe. "You're not a judge, you know. Very good if I give pain to you, Peggie, it's not my fault. Now, Mr.
And as she sat there with thumping heart, dreading the appearance of her cousin behind those bars, yet wishing intensely that he would come, Peggie had a sudden fearful realization of what it really meant to fall into the hands of justice. There, somewhere close by, no doubt, Barthorpe was able to move hands and feet, legs and arms, body and head but within limits.
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