“I dunno, but I ’xpect it be. He was always an evil-disposed fellow.”
“And his motive?”
“Ah, there you beat me. Some people do deeds o’ this sort without any motive; but you see,” said the farmer, sinking his voice to a whisper, “poor Philip got hampered and cajoled by that gell Nell Fulford, an’ it be true enough what’s been sed over and over agen, there never was any mischief in this world but what a woman has summut to do wi’ it.”
“Oh, hang it, don’t blame poor Nell. She did her best to save Phil. If he’d harkened to her counsel the chances are that he would be wi’ us now. Don’t blame Nell.”
“I don’t blame her, but it were a bad business his ever taking up wi’ her. He ought to have know hisself better; but there it was to be, I ’spose, an’ it ain’t o’ no use making matters worse by thinking o’ all these things; but I tell ’ee, John, it ha’ been a sore trouble to me.”
As the old farmer said this his eyes filled with tears, and he turned away and entered the house.
Miss Jamblin was prevailed upon to give a reluctant consent to pay a visit to Broxbridge Hall, and on the day following the earl’s interview with Jamblin, the carriage was again at the door of Stoke Ferry House. In it was Aveline herself, who had come to fetch Patty Jamblin, who was taken by storm and whirled on to Broxbridge before she had time for reflection.
It is needless to say that the farmer’s daughter was treated with the greatest kindness and consideration by Aveline Gatliffe.
Meanwhile, the earl had telegraphed to Scotland-yard for Mr. Wrench, who hastened down to Broxbridge by the first train.
“Lord Ethalwood wanted to see him on most important business,” so the telegram said.