"Well. Have it your own way. Tell me one thing. How is it the Colonel was so anxious about the preservation of his body?"
"Ah! Now you are asking more than I can tell you."
"You know though," said Jim looking at her sharply.
"I think--I am not sure. Wait, Dr. Jim. In good time you shall know all that I know. This is a romance in real life."
"A tragedy rather," said Herrick grimly, "mind you keep your promise."
"You can be sure I shall keep it," said Bess nodding and for the time being the matter ended. But Jim was considerably puzzled. How she could have got hold of information of which the police knew nothing was difficult to say. All the same he had more confidence in the brains of Bess than in those of Inspector Bridge.
As it was Saturday afternoon, the workmen had knocked off for the day. By this time the tower was half demolished, and curious it looked in its dilapidated state, with the pile of débris round about its base. The visitors looked at it for some time, then went into the house. In the kitchen off the dining-room they found an old woman who agreed to boil the kettle for them. After some deliberation they fixed on the library as the best place for the meal. On entering they found a boy reading in the corner under the window.
"You here Sidney?" said Ida amazed. "How can you come here without asking Stephen's permission?"
"Stephen doesn't mind I'm sure," replied Sidney with a smile, and Stephen assured him that he was welcome. While the others were talking and admiring the place Dr. Jim stood looking at the boy who was leaning back on the sofa taken up with his own thoughts. There was something peculiar about Sidney Endicotte, which procured him the name of the Changeling. This was given to him in fun by Bess; but many people in the village really believed that he was half a fairy if not a whole one. This reputation rose from the fact that the lad possessed that gift which in Scotland is called the second sight. No one in Saxham who saw Master Sidney's large blue eyes fixed upon him or her but turned pale. In Italy he would have been credited with the Evil eye, and indeed old Petronella always crossed herself when she chanced to meet him. Once or twice Sidney had foretold the death of those who had afterwards died. Thus he had an uncanny reputation.
He was a small thin boy looking much older than his years. Although he was but sixteen, yet on occasions he looked quite twenty. Pale, thin-faced, with large blue eyes, and a curious insistent gaze, he sometimes made even his own family feel uncomfortable. Then he had such peculiar habits. At night he was generally wakeful, and he slept much in the day-time particularly in cold weather. Sometimes he would slip out of his bedroom by the window and remain away for hours. When questioned where he had been he used vaguely to answer "In the wood." The doctors who had seen him could make nothing of him. He was healthy in his own way, his head was clear, and Corn reported that he learned rapidly. But about him hung a glamour not of this world. He might have been a male Kilmeny who had returned from fairy-land. Bess sometimes called him Thomas the Rhymer. When she did so Sidney would nod and laugh in so strange a way, that Bess herself grew frightened, and dropped the name.