Neal stepped on to open the front gate. Neal was always remarkably courteous and deferent to Mr. Oswald Cray. Oswald, who had only seen the best side of Neal, and never suspected there was a reverse one, looked upon him as a man to be respected, a faithful old retainer of the Oswald family. Lady Oswald had sung his praises times out of number in Oswald's ear, and she once told Oswald to try for Neal should he ever require a servant about his person, for he would find Neal a man of fidelity, worth his weight in gold. Oswald believed her. He believed Neal to be faithful and true; one whom doubt could not touch.
"This death of your late mistress is a very sad thing, Neal."
"O sir! I can't express to you how I have felt it. I'm sure I can say that my lady was a true friend to me, the only one I had left."
"No, no, Neal. Not the only one. You may count a friend in me--if only in respect to the regard you were, I know, held in by Lady Oswald."
"Thank you, sir, greatly;" and honest Neal's eyes swam in tears as he turned them to Mr. Oswald Cray under the light of his master's professional gas-lamp. "Sir," he added, swaying forward the gate and dropping his voice as he approached nearer to Oswald, "how came that poison, that chloroform, to be given to her?"
"I cannot tell; I cannot understand," replied Oswald, speaking upon impulse, not upon reflection.
"Sir, if I might dare to say a word"--and Neal glanced round with caution on all sides as he spoke--"I'd ask whether it was given in fairness?"
"What do you mean, Neal?"
"There's not a person in the world I'd venture to whisper such a thing to, sir, except yourself; but I doubt whether it was given in fairness. I have a reason for doubting it, sir; a particular reason. It makes me sick, sir, to think that there was some unfair play brought to work, and that it took her life."
"Unfair play on the part of whom?" asked Oswald.