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Updated: May 2, 2025
I knew John Braden who, of course, was John Brake very well, for some years. Naturally, I was in his confidence." "About more than the Saxonsteade jewels, you mean?" asked the solicitor. "About more than that," assented Glassdale. "Private matters. I've no doubt I can throw some light some! on this Wrychester Paradise affair. But, as I said just now, I'll only deal with the principal.
He got wrong, somehow, and he forged the Duke's name to a cheque. Now, then, considering who Glassdale is, and that he was certainly a fellow-convict of Brake's, and that I myself saw him here in Wrychester on the day of Brake's death what's the conclusion to be drawn? That Brake wanted to see the Duke on some business of Glassdale's! Without a doubt!
American tourists, sure appreciators of all that is ancient and picturesque in England, invariably come to a halt, holding their breath in a sudden catch of wonder, as they pass through the half-ruinous gateway which admits to the Close of Wrychester. Nowhere else in England is there a fairer prospect of old-world peace.
In his opinion, Mark Ransford, seventeen years before, had taken advantage of his friend's misfortunes to run away with his wife, and when Brake, alias Braden, had unexpectedly turned up at Wrychester, he had added to his former wrong by the commission of a far greater one. Bryce went back to Wrychester firmly convinced that Mark Ransford had killed John Braden.
"That's the place that was mentioned in connection with that very queer affair at Wrychester, that's been reported in the papers so much these last few days. The mysterious stranger who kept ten thousand in a London bank, and of whom nobody seems to know anything, had nothing on him but a history of Barthorpe. Odd!
In its midst, set flush with the floor, was what was evidently a trap-door, furnished with a heavy iron ring. To this Folliot pointed, with a glance of significant interest. "Deepest well in all Wrychester under that," he remarked. "You'd never think it it's a hundred feet deep and more! Dry now water gave out some years ago. Some people would have pulled this old well-house down but not me!
But who were they? no answer to that question appeared on the handbills, which were, in each case, signed by Wrychester solicitors. To one of these Glassdale, on arriving in the old city, promptly proceeded selecting the offerer of the larger reward.
Her voice was masculine; she stood nearly six feet in her stoutly-soled shoes; her breadth corresponded to her height; her eyes were piercing, her nose Roman; there was not a curate in Wrychester who was not under her thumb, and if the Dean himself saw her coming, he turned hastily into the nearest shop, sweating with fear lest she should follow him.
Although she had only lived in Wrychester a comparatively short time she had seen and learned enough of it to know that the place was a hotbed of gossip. Once gossip was started there, it spread, widening in circle after circle.
As things were, it seemed unlikely that any relations of Braden would now turn up. The Wrychester Paradise case, as the reporters had aptly named it, had figured largely in the newspapers, London and provincial; it could scarcely have had more publicity yet no one, save this bank-manager, had come forward.
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