“They were,” I replied. “But I feel that some one ought to keep an eye on things for Miss D’Arblay’s sake, and circumstances seem to have put the duty on me. So, as I can afford to pay any costs that are likely to be incurred, I proposed to ask you to undertake the case—on a strict business footing, you know, sir.”
“When you speak of my undertaking the case,” said he, “what is it that is in your mind? What do you want me to do in the matter?”
“I want you to take any measures that you may think necessary,” I replied, “to ascertain definitely, if possible, how this man came by his death.”
He reflected awhile before answering. At length he said:
“The examination of the body will be conducted by the person whom the coroner appoints, probably the police surgeon. I will write to the coroner for permission to be present at the post-mortem examination. He will certainly make no difficulties. I will also write to the police surgeon, who is sure to be quite helpful. If the post-mortem throws no light on the case—in fact, in any event—I will instruct a first-class shorthand writer to attend at the inquest and make a verbatim report of the evidence; and you, of course, will be present as a witness. That, I think, is about all that we can do at present. When we have heard all the evidence, including that furnished by the body itself, we shall be able to judge whether the case calls for further investigation. How will that do?”
“It is all that I could wish,” I answered, “and I am most grateful to you, sir, for giving your time to the case. I hope you don’t think I have been unduly meddlesome.”
“Not in the least,” he replied warmly. “I think you have shown a very proper spirit in the way you have interpreted your neighbourly duties to this poor, bereaved girl, who, apparently, has no one else to watch over her interests. And I take it as a compliment from an old pupil that you should seek my help.”
I thanked him again, very sincerely, and had risen to take my leave, when he held up his hand.
“Sit down, Gray, if you are not in a hurry,” said he. “I hear the pleasant clink of crockery. Let us follow the example of the eminent Mr. Pepys—though it isn’t always a safe thing to do—and taste of the ‘China drinke called Tee,’ while you tell me what you have been doing since you went forth from the fold.”
It struck me that the sense of hearing was uncommonly well developed in this establishment, for I had heard nothing; but a few moments later the door opened very quietly, and Mr. Polton entered with a tray on which was a very trim, and even dainty, tea service, which he set out noiselessly and with a curious neatness of hand, on a small table placed conveniently between our chairs.