"No, sir, nothing else, only to remind you again not to talk of this. The inquest will be held here at eleven-thirty on Tuesday."
Charles nodded. "We'll be here. I take it I shan't be wanted to speak about Duval's fears of the Monk?"
The inspector came as near to a wink as so staid an individual could. "The coroner won't want to hear any ghost stories, sir," he said meaningly.
Chapter Fourteen
The news of Duval's death had spread round the neighbourhood as such news does spread, and when it was known that the people to discover the corpse were Charles Malcolm and Peter Fortescue, not only Roote and Colonel Ackerley, but Mr. Titmarsh as well, all found excuses to call at the Priory on the chance of picking up some fresh news. The Colonel, who knew the family best, was entirely frank. "Sheer curiosity, Mrs. Malcolm," he twinkled. "That's what's brought me up to see you." But even he could extract nothing more from Charles and Peter than was already known.
Mr. Titmarsh said that he had come to inquire how Margaret was after her experience on Thursday; Dr Roote thought that he had left his scarf at the Priory on Saturday evening. And both gentlemen tried their hardest to pump Charles, and went away dissatisfied. On Monday morning Celia met Mrs. Pennythorne, the Vicar's wife, in the village shop. Mrs. Pennythorne was far too adroit to ask questions, but she greeted Celia most effusively, and said that she had been meaning for some days to ask the whole Priory party over to dinner. As Celia was perfectly well aware of the fact that Mrs. Pennythorne did not like her, she was not taken in by this, and she declined the invitation to dine at the Vicarage on the following evening on the score of the inquest, which might last till late. Not to be baulked, Mrs. Pennythorne begged her to choose her own day, and she was so persistent that Celia was forced to accept an invitation for Wednesday.
When she broke the news to the family there was an outcry from all but Mrs. Bosanquet, who said reprovingly that the Vicar was a most interesting man, and she should be glad of an opportunity of consulting him as to the best method of exorcising unquiet spirits.
"All right," Charles said. "You go, and say the rest of us have developed smallpox."
"You and I have simply got to go," Celia said. "I'd have got out of it if I could, but she just wouldn't take no for an answer. But I really didn't see that it was fair to let you all in for it, so I said I couldn't speak for the rest of you. If Aunt Lilian wants to go surely three of us'll be enough. You don't want to, do you, Margaret?"
"Not much!" Margaret said. "You're a true friend and sister, Celia. Peter and I will spend a tete-a-tete evening."