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Updated: June 7, 2025
"Perhaps you'd fetch Dr. Ransford, Mr Richard?" he asked. "He's nearest." "Dr. Ransford's not at home," said Dick. "He went to Highminster some County Council business or other at ten this morning, and he won't be back until four I happen to know that. Shall I run for Dr. Coates?"
Ransford's," said Mary. "I never saw him and I was in the garden, about that very time, with your stepson, Mr. Folliot." "So Sackville told me," remarked Folliot. "He was present and so was I when Mrs. Deramore was tattling about it in our house yesterday. He said, then, that he'd never seen the man go to your house. You never heard your servants make any remark about it?" "Never!" answered Mary.
"I am much obliged to you," she said. "I don't know what it all means but it is Dr. Ransford's affair if there is any affair, which I doubt. Will you let me go now, please?" Bryce stood aside and lifted his hat, and Mary, with no more than a nod, walked on towards the golf club-house across the Common, while Bryce turned off to the town, highly elated with his morning's work.
But he had come, at last, and he had evidently tracked Ransford to Wrychester why, otherwise, had he presented himself at Ransford's door on that eventful morning which was to witness his death? Nothing, in Bryce's opinion, could be clearer. Brake had turned up. He and Ransford had met most likely in the precincts of the Cathedral.
He had listened, with an attempt at a smile, to all this fiery indignation, but as Mary spoke the last words he was suddenly aware of something that drew his attention from her and them. Through an opening in Ransford's garden hedge he could see the garden door of the Folliots' house across the Close. And at that moment out of it emerge Folliot himself in conversation with Glassdale!
Ransford's face flushed and he turned deliberately to the window, and for a moment stood staring out on his garden and the glimpses of the Cathedral. And just as deliberately as he had turned away, he turned back. "No!" he said. "Since you ask me, I'll tell you that. You've both got money due to you when you're of age. It it's in my hands.
To begin with, Ransford had received a wire from London, first thing in the morning, which had made him run, breakfastless, to catch the next express. He had left Mary to make arrangements about his day's work, for he had not yet replaced Bryce, and she had been obliged to seek out another practitioner who could find time from his own duties to attend to Ransford's urgent patients.
"Can't say, for I don't know, though I've an idea he'll be a fellow that Brake was also wanting to find," replied Glassdale. "But anyhow, I know what I'm talking about when I tell you of Folliot. You'd better do something before he suspects me." Mitchington glanced at the clock. "Come with us down to the station," he said. "Dr. Ransford's coming in on this express from town; he's got news for us.
"Of course, it's it's a pretty well understood thing, don't you know between myself and Miss Bewery, you know and of course, we couldn't have any suspicions attaching to her guardian, could we, now? Family interest, don't you know Caesar's wife, and all that sort of thing, eh?" "I see," answered Bryce, quietly, "sort of family arrangement. With Ransford's consent and knowledge, of course?"
We'd better hear that first. Folliot! good Lord! who'd have believed or even dreamed it!" "You'll see," said Glassdale as they went out. "Maybe Dr. Ransford's got the same information." Ransford was out of the train as soon as it ran in, and hurried to where Mitchington and his companions were standing.
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