“I declare that it knocked me all of a heap when Inspector Grant came back here from Ardley End and told me of the tragedy which had overtaken Brown’s Expedition,” went on Mrs. Smith. “It seems to bring things so close home to one when it is people that you know who are mixed up in a disaster of that sort. And there is your cousin, as well as poor Miss Long’s brother, and oh! how she will feel it, for she thought the world of him, though somehow I never could see where his perfections lay; but there they say that love is blind, and perhaps it is just as well, or some folks would get no love at all.”
“Here is the wagon!” exclaimed Bertha, with secret relief. She was finding the conversation of Mrs. Smith very wearying, and was in fear as to the good woman’s next move from a talking point of view, for well she knew that she was no match for her if she began to ask questions.
“And there is Inspector Grant talking to the driver. Who did you say it was, my dear? Oh, I remember, that Mr. Bradgate who was ill so long at the police barracks. How dreadfully shabby his clothes are! and yet, in spite of it, he looks a gentleman, every inch of him. Ah! I have always maintained that you can tell the real thing at a glance,” said Mrs. Smith, who had so much to say upon every subject, that the marvel was she ever got through between dawn and dark.
“I must speak to the Inspector,” said Bertha, jumping up in a great hurry, and then, as she hurried out of the house, she said to her hostess, “Will you please give Mr. Bradgate a cup of coffee and something to eat as quickly as you can, because we want to start.”
This request had the effect of keeping Mrs. Smith indoors and busy at the stove, so that Bertha had a moment alone with Inspector Grant when Edgar went into the house to get his coffee.
“Is it really true about the Expedition?” she asked, with quivering lips. “I heard the rumour just before I left Brocken Ridge, but Mrs. Walford told me not to put too much faith in hearsay.”
“I am afraid that there is no room for doubt this time,” replied the Inspector. “I have seen the papers which the Indian brought down, and they were plainly genuine documents. A very hard time the poor fellows had, and they bore it to the end like heroes.”
“But I cannot understand why they sat there and waited for death to take them when they knew that they had no provisions,” said Bertha. “Why did they not set out to try and reach civilization, or even an Indian encampment, where food might be obtained?”
“Well, it seems there was food somewhere near them, only they did not know where to find it. There had been some ghastly blundering somewhere, only just at present we cannot put our finger on the spot. However, we have sent two of our best men to investigate the story of the Indian and to bury the bodies, and when they return we shall know more about it,” said the Inspector.
“How long will that be?” asked Bertha, who was sick at heart at the thought of the waiting which must ensue for Grace, who would know no rest or peace until the details of the tragedy were to hand.