CHAPTER XXI
TWO SCENES
Could any member of the party gathered at Haymore Hall have been gifted with clairvoyance, he or she might have witnessed in succession two scenes on that morning of December the 15th, distant, indeed, in space, but near in interest to the household.
The first scene was in a greengrocer’s shop in Holly Street, Medge.
A tall, spare, gray-haired and grave-looking man, of fifty years or upward, stood behind his counter waiting for morning customers, for it was still early.
A blue-coated telegraph boy hurried in, put a blue envelope in his hand, and laid an open book on the counter, saying:
“A dispatch, Mr. Legg; please sign.”
The astonished John Legg, who had never received a telegram in the half century of his whole life, and now feared that this one must herald some well-merited misfortune to his unloving and undutiful but beloved son or daughter, nervously scrawled his name in the boy’s book and tore open the envelope and read:
“Haymore, Chuxton, Yorkshire,
December 15, 18—.
“To Mr. John Legg, Medge, Hantz: I have just come from America; want to see my niece; am not able to travel. Let her come to me immediately. It will be to her advantage.