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Updated: May 11, 2025
"Oh, damn you, get out of the way!" said Garvington, and made for the door. "I go straight to Wanbury," which statement was a lie, as he first intended to see Mother Cockleshell at the camp and make certain that the reward was safe. But Silver believed him and was goaded to frenzy.
"I'm going to Wanbury to-night to tell Inspector Darby and get a warrant for Miss Greeby's arrest along with yours as her accomplice." Silver flung himself forward and gripped Garvington's coat. "You daren't!" "Yes, I dare. I can't be hurt. I didn't murder the man and I'm not going to lose a pile of money for your silly scruples." "Oh, my lord, consider." Silver in a panic dropped on his knees.
"And, if you do not pay me twenty-five thousand pounds, that letter goes to the inspector at Wanbury." "It can go now," she declared dauntlessly. "In that case you and Mr. Lambert will be arrested at once." Agnes gripped the man's arm as he was about to step through the door. "I take your week of grace," she said with a sudden impulse of wisdom. "I thought you would," retorted Silver insultingly.
The little man's hope was vain, as he might have guessed that it would be, for when the news became known in Fleet Street, the newspapers were only too glad to discover an original sensation for the dead season. Every day journalists and special correspondents were sent down in such numbers that the platform of Wanbury Railway Station was crowded with them.
Still, as I know you will be anxious if I leave you in this out-of-the-way place, it will be best for us both to go to London. There is a telephone at Wanbury, and I can communicate with you at once should it be necessary." "Of course it will be necessary," said Mrs. Lambert with fond impatience. "I shall worry dreadfully to think that you are in danger.
The whole story was not criminal, but truly romantic, and the final tragedy gave a grim touch to what was regarded, even by the most censorious, as a picturesque narrative. In spite of all his efforts, Inspector Darby, of Wanbury, could produce no evidence likely to show who had shot the deceased.
"The child treated me like the devil's calls her," said Gentilla Stanley, shaking her head angrily. "And I have no trust in her, for a witchly wrong 'un she is. When she goes donkey-wise to Wanbury, I says to a chal, says I, quick-like, 'Follow and watch her games! So the chal runs secret, behind hedges, and comes on the child at the railway line making for Lundra.
Kara ran by the side of the donkey she rode upon may she have an accident to Wanbury." "To Wanbury?" Lambert looked startled as it crossed his mind, and not unnaturally, that Chaldea might have gone to inform Inspector Darby about the conversation with Garvington in the library. "To Wanbury first, sir, and then to Lundra." "How can you be certain of that?"
You speak, and now I can tell my tale to the big policeman at Wanbury so that my son's son may sleep quiet, knowing that the evil has come home to her as laid him low. But, lovey, oh, lovey, and my precious one!" cried the old woman darting forward to caress Lambert's hand in a fondling way, "tell me how you know and what you learned.
It only remained to lay the whole matter before Inspector Darby, and Lambert was half inclined to go to Wanbury for this purpose. He did not, however, undertake the journey, for two reasons. Firstly, he wished to avoid asking for official assistance until absolutely forced to do so; and secondly, he was too ill to leave the cottage.
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