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They looked on the prisoner with fierce red eyes, and rested on their hammers for a minute; and said the elder to his companion, "Take out Elijah Harbottle's gyves;" and with a pincers he plucked the end which lay dazzling in the fire from the furnace.
I have often wondered how far happiness is contributed to a temperament like Judy Harbottle's, and how far it creates its own; but I doubt whether, on either count, she found as much in any other winter of her life except perhaps the remote ones by the Seine.
'Well, he hesitated, 'she told me about the Mulla Nulla affair. She is rather proud of that. Any woman would be. 'Poor dear Judy! I mused. Somers said nothing, but looked at me, removing his cigarette, as if my words would be the better of explanation. 'She has taken refuge in them in Bob Harbottle's soldierly qualities ever since she married him, I continued.
As I drove to the Club next day I decided that I would not tell Anna Chichele of Colonel Harbottle's projected furlough. If to Judy telling her would be like taking an oath that they would go, to me it would at least be like assuming sponsorship for their intention. That would be heavy indeed. From the first of April we were then in March.
'There is no dignified distraction in this country, she complained, 'for respectable ladies nearing forty. She seemed to like to make these declarations in the presence of Somers Chichele, who would look at her with a little queer smile a bad translation, I imagine, of what he felt. She gave herself so generously to her seniors that somebody said Mrs. Harbottle's girdle was hung with brass hats.
Do you mind? Can you spare a minute? 'Oh, I am quite at your service, of course, Mr. Arncliffe. A minion from the messenger's office walked processionally before us bearing a key, and presently we were in Mr. Harbottle's sanctuary. Two well-worn saddle-bag chairs stood before the hearth, and between them a chastely designed little table. On the rug was a pair of roomy slippers.
Trimmer, of Tunbridge Wells, which Doctor Hesselius thought the better of the two, I have been unable to discover among his papers. I found in his escritoire a note to the effect that he had lent the Report of Judge Harbottle's case, written by Mrs. Trimmer, to Dr. F. Heyne.
A key was brought to us, and we inspected another very similar apartment, which had a green baize-covered leg-rest on its hearth-rug. 'H'm! Dr. Powell is not quite so busy, of course. We haven't had a line from him yet. Well, Hutchens, you might have Dr. Powell's things put in Mr. Harbottle's room at once, will you? or the other way about, you know. It doesn't matter which.
We shall not inquire into this mystery, however. Suffice to say, she went away from home a bouncing young lass; she returned a rather elderly character, with a Madonna front and a melancholy countenance bought the late Mrs. Harbottle's business for a song took her elderly mother to live with her; was very good to the poor, was constant at church, and had the best of characters.
'Yes, I know, I know; there's got to be a good deal of sifting, but we must go gently. We don't want to set Fleet Street humming. Look here! What about old Harbottle? He has a room, hasn't he? 'Mr. Harbottle has had his room here, Mr. Arncliffe, for just upon twenty-seven years. 'Yes; I thought so. Where is it? 'Mr. Harbottle's room is immediately overhead. 'Let's have a look at it.
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