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Updated: June 9, 2025


We must go at once and wire for Sir Cresswell and old Petherton," replied Gilling. "It's now four-thirty. If they catch an evening express at King's Cross they'll get here early in the morning. If they like to motor from Norcaster they can get here in the small hours. But they must be here for that inquest." Greyle was talking to Chatfield at the foot of the Keep when they got down.

Come on across! Will it be out of keeping with your invalid pose if you run?" Gilling answered that question by lightly vaulting the wall and dropping to the sands beneath. "I'm not an invalid in my legs, anyhow," he answered, as they began to splash across the pools left by the recently retreated tide. "By George! I believe something has happened, too!

"How did you come in then?" asked Gilling. "Cousin Jim Spurge's bike down in the stable-yard, now," answered Spurge. "Did it comfortable in under the hour." "I think we ought to go out there some of us," said Gilling. "We ought " At that moment the door opened and Sir Cresswell Oliver came in, holding a bit of flimsy paper in his hand.

"And I showed them the way to our own doctor Dr. Tretheway. And as a result of what he said to them, I heard them decide to break up their journey into stages, as you might term it. They left here for Bristol that afternoon to stay the night there." "You're sure of that? Bristol?" asked Gilling. "Ought to be," replied the landlord, with laconic assurance.

"I went to the station with them and saw them off. They booked to Bristol anyway first class." Gilling looked at his companion. "I think we'd better see this Dr. Tretheway," he remarked. Dr. Tretheway, an elderly man of grave manners and benevolent aspect, remembered the visit of Mr. Marston Greyle well enough when he had turned up its date in his case book.

He was sure that his companion would turn this unexpected meeting to account, and he therefore felt no surprise when Gilling, after giving him a private nudge, plumped the manager with a direct question. "Did you see Addie Chatfield when she was here about a year ago?" he asked. "You remember she was here in Mrs. Swayne's Necklace here a fortnight." "I remember very well, dear boy," responded Mr.

"We shall make Norcaster about five-thirty tomorrow morning." "Then let us wire the time of our arrival to Gilling. I'm anxious to know what has brought him up there," said Copplestone. "And we'll wire to Mrs. Greyle, too," he added, turning to Audrey. "She'll know then that you're absolutely on the way." "I wonder what we're on the way to?" remarked Vickers with a grim smile.

We must see this Dr. Valdey, and the undertaker and Marston Greyle's grave." "And then?" asked Copplestone. "Stiff, big question," sighed Gilling. "Go back to town and report, I think and find out if Swallow has discovered anything. And egad! there's a lot to discover!

"If we're going to have a quiet talk," he went on, "we'd better have it now no one's about, and if any one sees us from a distance they'll only think we're, what we look to be casual acquaintances. Now what is your job?" Gilling looked about him and then perched himself on the wall. "To watch Marston Greyle," he replied. "They suspect him?" asked Copplestone. "Undoubtedly!"

Yes, I don't think anybody would see through me, and I'm very particular to avoid the clergy." "And you left the stage for this?" asked Copplestone. "Why, now?" "Pays better heaps better," replied the other calmly. "Also, it's more exciting there's much more variety in it. Well, now you know who I am my name, by-the-bye is Gilling, though I'm not the Reverend Gilling, as Mrs. Wooler will call me.

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