The Loudwater Tragedy

by T. W. Speight

"Does there not seem to you a possibility that my brother may have accidentally discovered the assignation of the young people--that, in point of fact, he may have come suddenly upon them while they were talking together by the corner of the churchyard, that a quarrel may thereupon have ensued, with a result that was fatal to James?"

"That is a point which I have not failed to consider; but it is one which, the more I look at it, the more I find it to bristle with difficulties. That Mr. Melray left home as usual at eight o'clock is not questioned. Supposing him to have gone there direct, he was due at the house of Mr. Arbour from ten to twelve minutes later. Mrs. Melray states that, knowing her husband would not be back before half-past ten at the soonest, she named nine o'clock for her meeting with Wildash. This seems quite feasible, seeing that by that hour most of the shops would be shut, that there would be fewer people in the streets, and, consequently, less likelihood of their meeting being observed. But, supposing Mrs. Melray to have been unwise enough to fix a quarter or half-past eight for the meeting, what then? The churchyard where the meeting is said to have taken place is in an exactly opposite direction to the road Mr. Melray would have to traverse on his way to Mr. Arbour's; what possible reason, therefore, could take him so far out of his way? Even supposing for a moment that, by some means of which we know nothing, he had got wind of the assignation and had made up his mind to be present, that he carried out his intention, that high words passed between the two men, resulting in a quarrel fatal to one of them; supposing all this, we at once find ourselves beset with a fresh difficulty--none other, in fact, than to account for Mr. Melray's body being found in his own office, and not in the street by the churchyard, where the quarrel, had there been one, must presumably have taken place. But there is no evidence of a quarrel, nor as much as a single witness to prove that the two men ever met, while it could not for a moment be contended that Wildash, after killing Mr. Melray, could unobserved have dragged the body as far as Loudwater House. No; I confess it would be much harder for me to swallow these difficulties than it is to accept Mrs. Melray's narrative as a truthful statement of the facts of the case as far as she was concerned in them; and, looked at from her point of view, one can quite understand her anxiety to keep the whole affair a secret from everybody."

"Your views in the main seem to tally with my own," said Mr. Melray, "and I am glad to have them confirmed by you."

"It certainly seems somewhat singular," resumed Winslade presently, "that no one in Solchester should have known of the return of Wildash, and that by all his old associates the tidings of his death should still be implicitly believed. His aunt's evidence on the point would have been most valuable, because she, more than anyone, would have been likely to know of his return; but, unfortunately, she died some months ago. As to whether he and the stranger who was killed on the railway were one and the same person, there seems very little likelihood now of our ever being able to prove; the probability, however, would seem to be in favour of their being the same man."

"It is a point which, I confess, has very little interest for me," replied the other. "But now comes the question," he presently resumed, "of what I ought to say to my sister-in-law, of what notice, in point of fact, it is advisable that I should take of her extraordinary statement."

"If I may be allowed," said Winslade, "I would suggest that the less notice you take of it the better."

"My own opinion exactly. Indeed, if she and I were brought face to face, I scarcely know what I should find to say to her about it. For me, at least, it opens up a very different view of her character from the one I held before. But that," he added with one of his dry smiles, "is scarcely a point as to which it behoves me to enlighten her." He paused for a few seconds, sitting with half-shut eyes and drumming softly on the table with one hand. Then he said: "Perhaps, after all, my best plan will be to write her a brief note, telling her I have read her statement, and that although I am sorry she did not see her way to take me into her confidence long ago, yet, bearing in mind the uncommon circumstances surrounding the affair, that I do not feel at liberty to blame her for her reticence. Further, that I accept her statement without the shadow of a doubt as to the truth of anything there set down, and that for the future it may be as well that the subject should not be further alluded to between us. Yes," he continued with an air of relief, "I think that will decidedly be the best thing to do."

At Loudwater House everything went on as before. Fanny and the younger Mrs. Melray remained on the best of terms, and the latter continued to join her and Freddy two or three times a week in their walks. Once, and once only, did the young widow refer to a certain matter which was as carefully shunned by Fanny as by herself. One day when Freddy was out of hearing, Denia said: "I suppose I am only telling you what you know already when I inform you that my brother-in-law's perusal of the statement which I gave into your hands resulted in his writing me a short, but extremely nice letter."

"I was given to understand that it was Mr. Melray's intention to write to you."

"I cannot tell you how happy his letter has made me. Ever since receiving it I have felt sorry and ashamed of myself for not having taken him into my confidence at first and told him all I had to tell. All my life long I shall think very differently of him from what I used to do."