"She murdered no one," interposed Paul, quickly; "she knew that her daughter had killed Lady Rachel, and shielded her. But she was never sure if Maud had strangled Krill, as she feared to ask her. But as the girl was out all night at the time of the murder, Mrs. Jessop, I think, knows more than she choses to admit. However, the Treasury won't prosecute her, and her mind is now weak. Let the poor creature end her days with Jessop, father. Is there anything else you wish to know?"
"That boy Tray?"
"He was tried for being an accessory before the crime, but his counsel put forward the plea of his age, and that he had been under the influence of Maud. He has been sent to a reformatory for a good number of years. He may improve."
"Huh!" grunted the old gentleman, "and silk purses may be made out of sow's ears; but not in our time, my boy. We'll hear more of that juvenile scoundrel yet. Now that, that blackguard, Hay?"
"He has gone abroad, and is likely to remain abroad. Sandal and Tempest kept their word, but I think Hurd put it about that Hay was a cheat and a scoundrel. Poor Hay," sighed Paul, "he has ruined his career."
"Bah! he never had one. If you pity scoundrels, Paul, what are you to think of good people?"
"Such as Deborah who is nursing my darling? I think she's the best woman in the world."
"Except your mother?"
Paul nearly fell from his seat on hearing this remark. Beecot senior certainly might have been in earnest, but his good opinion did not prevent him still continuing to worry Mrs. Beecot, which he did to the end of her life.
"I suppose that Matilda Junk creature had nothing to do with the murder?" asked Beecot, after an embarrassing pause—on his son's part.