“Humph! And the domestic establishment, can you call its members over by name?”
“Lord, yes, sir! ever since that dreadful affair every individual member of that household is well beknown to everybody,” replied the man, who immediately began and gave a list of all the maid and men servants in or about Allworth Abbey.
“Humph,” said the stranger again; and then, after a few moments spent in deep thought, he thanked the narrator for his information, put a crown-piece in his hand, and requested him to call a cab.
The man touched his hat, hurried away, and soon returned with the cab.
“To the Leaton Arms,” said the stranger, as he entered the cab, and threw himself heavily back among the cushions.
Meanwhile Eudora Leaton, in charge of the two policemen, was carried into the town.
It was considered too late to take her before a magistrate, or even lodge her in the county gaol, which had been closed for hours.
The policemen therefore conveyed her to a rude but strong station, or lock-up house, where drunkards, brawlers, thieves, and other disturbers of the night were confined until morning.
Eudora was thrust into a large stone room, with grated windows placed high up towards the ceiling, and rude oaken benches ranged along the walls. This apartment was without fire, beds, or separate cells.
It was occupied by about half a dozen abandoned women and various children, some of whom lay extended along the benches in the stupid sleep of intoxication, while others walked restlessly about, engaged in desultory conversation.