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The following excerpt from the Statement of the Evidence submitted to the jury, on the occasion of the present Admiral Sir Thomas Livingstone of Westquarter, Baronet, being served heir-male of James, first Earl of Calender in 1821, in which I was professionally engaged, shews what became of the issue of William Henry Cranstoun, the poisoner. John Fenton of Torpenhow, in the County of Cumberland.
Torpenhow was on the top floor, and Dick burst into his room, to be received with a hug which nearly cracked his ribs, as Torpenhow dragged him tot he light and spoke of twenty different things in the same breath. 'But you're looking tucked up, he concluded. 'Got anything to eat? said Dick, his eye roaming round the room. 'I shall be having breakfast in a minute. What do you say to sausages?
Now they were sitting on the sand-bank, and the whale-boats were bringing up the remainder of the column. 'Yes, said Torpenhow, as he put the last rude stitches into his over-long-neglected gear, 'it has been a beautiful business. 'The patch or the campaign? said Dick. 'Don't think much of either, myself.
Kami used to dream colour; I swear he could never have seen the genuine article; but he evolved it; and it was good. 'Recollect some of those views in the Soudan? said Torpenhow, with a provoking drawl. Dick squirmed in his place. 'Don't! It makes me want to get out there again. What colour that was!
'Yes; but did he go alone? 'I don't know, and I don't care, but he has the beginnings of the go-fever upon him. He wants to up-stakes and move out. There's no mistaking the signs. Whatever he may have said before, he has the call upon him now. 'It might be his salvation, Torpenhow said. 'Perhaps if you care to take the responsibility of being a saviour.
Torpenhow listened attentively, and learned every detail of Dick's life that had been hidden from him. For three days Dick raved through the past, and then a natural sleep. 'What a strain he has been running under, poor chap! said Torpenhow. 'Dick, of all men, handing himself over like a dog! And I was lecturing him on arrogance! I ought to have known that it was no use to judge a man.
Torpenhow, the Keneu, and the Nilghai had bidden all the men they had worked with to the orgy; and Mr. Beeton, the housekeeper, declared that never before in his checkered experience had he seen quite such a fancy lot of gentlemen. They waked the chambers with shoutings and song; and the elder men were quite as bad as the younger.
'I'll do no business till I've seen Torpenhow. There's a big deal coming. So he departed, making no promises, to his one little room by the Docks. And that day was the seventh of the month, and that month, he reckoned with awful distinctness, had thirty-one days in it! It is not easy for a man of catholic tastes and healthy appetites to exist for twenty-four days on fifty shillings.
He was watching Dick, who called aloud to the restless Nile for Maisie, and again Maisie! 'Behold a phenomenon, said Torpenhow, rearranging the blanket. 'Here is a man, presumably human, who mentions the name of one woman only. And I've seen a good deal of delirium, too. Dick, here's some fizzy drink. 'Thank you, Maisie, said Dick.
He said you were to. Torpenhow gave her a check and went to his own rooms. Bessie faithfully tidied up the studio, set the door ajar for flight, emptied half a bottle of turpentine on a duster, and began to scrub the face of the Melancolia viciously. The paint did not smudge quickly enough. She took a palette-knife and scraped, following each stroke with the wet duster.
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