[PAUL MEXTON, JOURNALIST.]
Barnstead was provided with a new sensation, and that of the most extreme kind. The beauty of the village--for so Milly was accounted--had been murdered by some unknown person, and everyone was excited by the tragedy. Far and wide the rumour spread, gaining details more or less truthful as it slipped from tongue to tongue, until by noon of the next day it reached Marborough. From the streets it penetrated into the office of the "Tory Times," which, as its name denotes, is an old and long-established newspaper of the south of England; and so became known to Paul Mexton, who was the chief reporter of the journal. The news appealed to him more than it did to the majority of the public.
In the first place, it roused his journalistic instincts, as eminently satisfactory "copy" for the columns of the paper; in the second, he was personally acquainted with the Lester family, and particularly with Iris. The late Mr. Link had been a solicitor in Marborough, and in that town Iris had been born, and had lived for seventeen years, when, her father dying, her mother had married Dr. Lester and had removed to Barnstead. The second Mrs. Lester did not live long after her foolish second marriage, and when she died Iris was left to look after Milly and the miserable domestic affairs of Poverty Villa. But all this has been set forth before, and the main point now is the acquaintance of Mexton with Iris Link.
They had been boy and girl together, and Paul had been like a brother to Iris for many years. Twice or thrice a month he was accustomed to ride over to Barnstead, when permitted by his journalistic duties; and at one time Iris thought that their youthful friendship might develop into the warmer feeling of love. But, as has before been stated, she lost her heart to Herne, and later on Paul confessed to her that he was in love with a Polish lady who for some months previously had given violin recitals in the Marborough Town Hall. Therefore, up to the present Paul and Iris were simply good friends and nothing more.
Paul valued his friendship with Miss Link, as he was ambitious and she sympathised with his aims and aspirations. He wished to make a name in London as a novelist, to live in the metropolis, and to mix with the literary society of the day. To Iris he told all his dreams and schemes and successes and failures; and in her turn Iris consulted him about her domestic worries, the eccentricities of Dr. Lester, and the trials she experienced with Milly and her lovers. Paul, therefore, was well acquainted with the events which had preceded the tragedy; and now that the tragedy itself had taken place he was hardly surprised by its occurrence.
"I knew Milly would get herself into trouble, poor girl!" he thought on hearing the news; "but I hardly expected her follies would result in her murder. I wonder who killed her, and what was the motive for the crime? By Jove! I'll ride over and see Iris; she needs a friend just now, and she can give me all details for the paper."
No sooner had Paul made up his mind to this course than he saw the editor, and requested permission to go over to Barnstead. It was accorded at once, and, knowing Mexton's ready pen, the editor anticipated an unusually interesting account of the crime, to be in the next day's issue of the "Tory Times." Prompt and rapid in his actions as a war correspondent, Paul was on the road to Barnstead within an hour of receiving the intelligence of the murder. But the police, advised by telegram, were beforehand with him, and he found the inspector--Drek was his name--investigating the matter when he arrived at Poverty Villa.
Drek was in the untidy garden talking to a policeman when Paul rode up, and he eyed the young man in anything but a pleasant manner when he dismounted. The inspector was an alert but somewhat sour man, who had no great love for press or pressman; and he distinctly resented the prompt arrival of Mexton on the scene. With a frown he looked at the keen and handsome face of the young man, and nodded curtly in response to his greeting.
"Where the corpse is there gather the vultures," said Drek, who dealt at times in proverbs.
"Are you talking of the police, Mr. Inspector?" asked Paul, smiling.