“This almost passes belief,” said Evaline, turning very pale. “Art thou sure they have done this?”
“I heard Master Shedlock affirm it to Sir Edgar himself,” answered Martha. “The crowner’s quest, that sat on the body of the dead robber, have averred that he was murderously slain; and Master Shedlock hath seized Sir Edgar as the murderer.”
“The malignant upstart!” exclaimed Evaline. “But his project, whatever it be, can be easily frustrated, and made to recoil upon himself. Quick, Martha! I must not be absent from my father when he is thus abused.”
Martha, who only waited her mistress’s directions to begin, readily entered on her duties, and Evaline was soon engaged in the various details of the toilet. These arranged, she sprang to her feet, and, bidding Martha attend her, quitted the chamber, and repaired to the dining-hall.
She found the whole household collected in this apartment. These, however, were not the only inmates, nor was it on them that she bestowed her notice. At the head of the long dining-table, which passed down the centre of the room, stood a group of persons who first attracted her eye, and immediately engaged her undivided attention.
The group consisted of her father, her cousin, Don Felix di Corva, and three strangers. Of these last, the principal was one who, even while the spectator was ignorant of his name and worth, inspired respect by his mere presence. His height was full six feet, and thus, by its marked pre-eminence, distinguished him from those around at the very first glance. His manly and vigorous limbs, which his erect posture exhibited to advantage, corresponded with his stature, and were all fitted with exact proportion, and turned with the most perfect grace. But what most prepossessed the spectator in his favour was his countenance, which seemed to claim for him, through the medium of its various features, not only the respect which should be paid to the best qualities of the heart, but the veneration which is due to loftiness of intellect. He was attired in costly habits, fitted to his person with great care, and indicating, by the harmony of their colours, and the simple elegance of their design, the nicest and most refined taste.
By his side stood a person who appeared to greater disadvantage, perhaps, from his proximity to so much excellence. He was a short, spare man; but, for his years—which were somewhat beyond fifty—looked hale and healthy. If the countenance of his companion, the cavalier just described, was his greatest recommendation, that of this individual embraced his most prominent defects. His forehead was low; and, from his wearing his scanty locks closely cropped, looked much lower than it really was: his eyes were small and piercing, and, when they were raised from the table (which was not often), were continually twisting about, like a ferret’s; his nose was long, and sharp, and turned up at the end; and his mouth, especially when compressed, seemed to stretch right across his face, and to form a sort of pitfall, if one may so speak, beneath his high cheek-bones. Unlike his companion, he was attired in grave garments, which were cut with great formality; but, whether from haste, or from habit, had been put on in the most careless manner, and evidently by a hand, whatever actuated it, that deemed any labour of the toilet irksome and unprofitable.
The third stranger was almost equal in stature to the one first described. In all other respects, however, he was decidedly singular, and bore no resemblance to any one person present. His figure was so lean, and, at the same time, so tall, that he looked like a shadow, and scarcely appeared to possess sufficient strength to maintain his own balance. His face was small, and emaciated, and was by no means improved, if it were not greatly disfigured, by the manner in which he wore his long red hair, which was combed down over his forehead, and made his face look little larger than a good-sized boy’s. Like the cavalier before named, he was clad in grave habits, of a close and formal cut, and a fashion long defunct; but, to judge from their scanty dimensions, they were not his own, and he seemed to have been driven into them by main force.
Evaline, after a first glance at his face, recognised this individual as the sheriff’s clerk, and the short, puritanical person at his side, whom we have described at some length before, as Master Shedlock, the sheriff. Who the third person was, or whether he was associated with Shedlock, or was a friend of her father, she could not conceive. But she had not time to form many conjectures on this point; for, just as she gained the head of the table, a few words from Shedlock, addressed to the cavalier in question, made her understand his exact position.
“I am right glad, Sir Walter,” observed Shedlock, in a whining tone, “that thou didst happen to be present when this paper was brought to me. See here!” and he unrolled a scrap of paper which he had in his hand: “the poor murdered Samaritan, whom the sons of Belial call a robber, was held trustworthy by my Lord Treasurer, the light and horn of Israel. This paper was found in his pouch, and is a warranty, beyond all question, of his perfect honesty. Read it, sirrah!” and he handed the paper to his clerk.