"A pretty pair," gobbled the turkey-cock, growing red. "I suppose the Government will hang the pair?"
"No. Captain Jessop can't be touched as he had nothing to do with the murder, and Sylvia and myself are not going to prosecute him for his attempt to get the jewels from Pash."
"Then you ought to. It's a duty you owe to society."
Paul shook his head. "I think it best to leave things as they are, father," he said mildly, "especially as Mrs. Jessop, much broken in health because of her daughter's terrible end, has gone back with her husband to live at his house in Stowley."
"What," shouted Beecot senior, "is that she-devil to go free, too?"
"I don't think she was so bad as we thought," said Paul. "I fancied she was a thoroughly bad woman, but she really was not. She certainly committed bigamy, but then she thought Jessop was drowned. When he came to life she preferred to live with Krill, as he had more money than Jessop."
"And, therefore, Jessop, as you say, had free quarters at 'The Red Pig.' A most immoral woman, sir—most immoral. She ought to be ducked."
"Poor wretch," said Paul, "her mind has nearly given way under the shock of her daughter's death. She loved that child and shielded her from the consequences of killing Lady Rachel. The Sandal family don't want the case revived, especially as Maud is dead, so Mrs. Jessop—as she is now—can end her days in peace. The Government decided to let her go under the circumstances."
"Tush," said Beecot senior, "sugar-coated pills and idiocy. Nothing will ever be done properly until this Government goes out. And it will," striking the table with his fist, "if I have anything to do with the matter. So Mrs. Krill or Jessop is free to murder, and—"