“I really don’t know,” replied the puzzled clerk.
“Is it possible,” exclaimed the squire, “that this monster has outwitted us all, and robbed us besides? I can see now the meaning of Warner’s telegram to Edith, which arrived two hours after the carriage left. Here, read it, doctor, for I am feeling faint.”
“Yes, squire, I’ll do so while you rest. It says,—‘I warn the ladies and the squire not to go near Newhaven.’”
“What a pity that telegram came so late,” exclaimed the squire, so feebly that it was evident he was seriously ill.
In another minute he would have fallen down in a fainting fit, if Doctor Peters’s quick eye had not noticed the change, and, running to the squire’s assistance, he placed him on a lounge, while the requisite remedies were forthwith administered under Doctor Peters’s personal superintendence. It was fortunate that he was sufficiently well to diagnose and treat the attack, but he immediately called in from Lewes medical help, because, after a partial revival, the heart’s action of the squire continued very weak.
Mr Penfold and many other friends who had ascertained the actual position of affairs had afforded the squire all the consolation that they possibly could in his distress, when a letter arrived from Mr William Goodall, to say that he was coming next day with some good news. This had quite a magic effect on the squire, as he construed the letter to imply that Goodall had seen, or heard some cheering tidings of Miss Dove and Miss Chain. So Doctor Peters and the rest of the household kept up this delusive idea.
However, the hope and faith this belief inspired in the mind of the squire was excusably encouraged, and to foster it, preparations were set on foot to give a warm reception to Mr William Goodall, including an impromptu day of rejoicing. Bennet was therefore told to provide what amount of sport and diversion he could. The village band and one from Lewes were ordered, and tents were erected in preparation.
On the following morning, when the squire, who was nearly himself again, and his friends had been amusing themselves in the punts on the fish-pond, a shriek was heard, coming from the direction of the gamekeeper’s cottage, and Mrs Bennet was seen standing outside, looking as pale as death, while she pointed towards a quiet, gentlemanly-looking man, who was approaching the Hall. Squire Dove, whose eyes were steadfastly fixed on this figure, exclaimed,—
“If I were a believer in ghosts, doctor, I should say that, for the first time in my life, I had seen one.”
“Ay, how extremely like Henry Goodall who was drowned that stranger is!”