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Werricker, sir," said he, touching his low-crowned, wide-brimmed hat with a thick forefinger, "it ain't no manner o' use you a-ringin' o' that theer bell, because there ain't nobody to answer same, your young man Clegg 'aving took a little 'oliday, d'ye see, sir." "A holiday, Mr. Shrig! Pray how do you know?" "By obserwation, sir. I've a powerful gift that way, sir from a infant."
I remain, sir, Yours respectfully, THOMAS CLEGG. "Very strange!" said I. "Ah!" sighed Mr. Shrig. "But then life generally is, Mr. Werricker, sir, if you'll take the trouble to ob-serve; so strange that I ain't never surprised at nothing nowhere and nohow, sir.
"Have you written down the name of Haredale in your little book?" I enquired. "Haredale, Mr. Werricker, sir? V'y no, I ain't. V'y should I, sir? Vot ha' you to tell me about any party, name o' Haredale?" "Only that you will find such a name on the piece of paper you are after." Mr. Shrig's roving eye fixed me for a moment. "Haredale?" he muttered, shaking his head, "Haredale?"
"A wictim o' wiciousness, sir." "What in the world do you mean? Who was she?" "Well, d'ye 'appen to know a young woman name of Nancy Price, sir?" "No!" "And yet you've 'ad same in your arms, Mr. Werricker, sir." "What the devil are you suggesting?" I demanded angrily. "I suggest as you found same young woman in a vood at midnight and carried 'er to a inn called the 'Soaring Lark."
From these gloomy thoughts I was aroused by the sound of my companion's voice: "I am a-goin' on this here hexpe-dition, sir, with the expectation I may say with the 'ope sir, of finding a body " "A body of what?" I enquired absently. "Lord, Mr. Werricker, sir, vat should it be but a hum-ing body a corpse, sir." "Horrible!" I exclaimed. "Who is it? Where did he die?" "Vell, sir," said Mr.
Ah many's the drop o' French brandy, glass o' port or sherry as I've drank to the 'ealth o' your uncle in them werry i-dentical chambers, sir. A gent wi' a werry elegant taste in crime is Sir Jervas. No, don't trouble to come down, sir, your young man shall let me out. A reg'lar treasure that 'ere young man o' yours, Mr. Werricker! Good morning, gen'elmen both, my best respex!" So saying, Mr.
Turning about, I espied him on his knees, examining the contents of the dead man's pockets with a methodical precision that revolted me. "Of mine?" said I, shuddering. "Your werry own, sir. 'T was one o' the reasons as I brought you along I do 'ope Windictiveness here ain't destroyed it ah, 'ere it is, Mr. Werricker, sir though the seal's broke, you'll ob-serve."
"Ackvainted? I should say so, sir! A reg'lar bang-up blood, a downright 'eavy toddler oh, I know Sir Jervas, ackvainted is the werry i-denti-cal name for it! So, with your permission, sir, I'll be padding on my vay." "You will find him at his chambers in " "St. James's Street, nigh opposite to Vite's, Mr. Werricker, sir.
"The letter as 'e's left for you a-layin' on your desk this werry minute along o' my stick as I 'appened to forget but you'll be vantin' to gain hadmittance, I expect, sir." "I do." "Vy then, 't is rayther fortunate as I did forget my stick or I shouldn't ha' come back for it in time to be o' service to you, Mr. Werricker. By your leave, sir." Saying which, Mr.
We had gone but a little way along this path when Mr. Shrig halted and seating himself upon the grassy bank, took off his hat and mopped his brow. "A be-eautiful sunset, sir." "Yes!" I answered, turning to view the glowing splendour. "So werry red, Mr. Werricker, sir, like fire like blood."
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