King of the Castle

by George Manville Fenn

There were whispers in men’s voices, muffled footsteps on the thick rugs in the paved hall, with the sharp sound from time to time as a foot fell on the bare granite.

Then came the opening of the study door, and a piteous sigh escaped from Claude’s breast as in imagination she saw the darkened room into which the jurymen passed one by one, to stay a few moments, and then pass out.

Then more whispers, more trampling, muffled and loud; the closing of the study door; and then the sighing and moaning of the wind ceased suddenly, as the great hall door was shut; voices came more loudly as steps passed along the terrace, and grew fainter and fainter as they filed out, and once more the house was still.

Down by the inn, affected most by the fishermen from its proximity to the harbour, the principal part of the inhabitants of the place were gathered, waiting in knots and discussing Gartram’s death, till such time as the jury returned. Then a lane was opened for them to pass through into the great room of the inn, the fishermen crowding in afterwards, while two men drawn, one by summons, the other for reasons of his own, to the inquest, found themselves, by the irony of fate, side by side, and compelled to walk in this way down the long passage packed in by the crowd, and upstairs to the room where the inquest was to be held.

Parry Glyddyr had grown more calm and firm as the day had worn on, while Chris had, on the other hand, become more excited; and, finding himself thus thrown close beside his rival, he could not help turning a sharp inquiring look upon him, as if asking what he had to say.

But no word was spoken, and, forced on by the crowd behind, they at last found themselves close up to the head of the table, listening to the coroners words as the various witnesses were examined, a low murmur arising when Claude’s name was called, and a way clear made for her to pass through, and give the little evidence she could as to her father’s habits, and then she was led, silently weeping, away.

Sarah Woodham—cold, dark and stern now—was called to speak of her duty in taking to her master his tonic draught, and she could tell of his habit in using a narcotic to produce sleep.

Other witnesses were examined, including both the doctors. As her gravely and deprecatingly stating how he had prescribed for his patient. The new doctor gave his opinion upon what he had seen; the coroner summed up; and the jury, sworn to do their duty in the inquiry, had no difficulty in unanimously agreeing that it was a case of accidental death, and gradually melting away with the crowd. Glyddyr, one of the last to leave the room, breathing more freely since he had given his evidence relative to seeing Gartram lying asleep, but feeling that he was ghastly pale, and afraid to meet Chris Lisle’s eye, as he passed out of the inquiry room, and out on to the cliff to let the soft, cool night air fan his cheeks.

His knees seemed to give way beneath him, and he was glad to move a little to one side, and rest against the iron rail that guarded the edge of the cliff, for he was giddy with emotion as he felt how narrow an escape he had had from destruction.

“But they could not tell,” he said to himself. “It was his heart; and no doctor could have analysed the case sufficiently to have said who gave him a larger quantity than he usually took.