“He was nothing of the sort,” broke in Tokely, very red in the face. “He was a lad considerably above the average of rustic intelligence—and he made his way in the world, Ma’am, I should like you to know—got his name in the papers, more than once——”
“Ah—lots o’ folks manages to do that, without meanin’ it,” said Betty Siggs, with a little laugh. “I’ve knowed a man to do it by breakin’ a winder.”
“Never mind about that,” said the Inspector, testily. “The young man I’m talking about got on in the world, by sheer merit. I am that young man, Ma’am”—the Inspector tapped himself dramatically on the breast—“now Inspector Tokely, of Scotland Yard!”
Betty Siggs went a little white about the region of her plump cheeks; clasped her hands; and faltered out—“Of—of Scotland Yard.”
“Criminal Investigation Department, Ma’am,” went on the Inspector, tapping himself on the breast again. “Have the goodness, Ma’am, to shut that door.”
Mrs. Siggs put a hand out, to do as she was bidden, never taking her eyes for a moment from the face before her. Indeed, after shutting the door, she stood with her hand upon the knob, as though ready to pull it open in an instant, and scream for assistance, if necessary.
“Now, Ma’am,” began Tokely, wagging his head and a forefinger at her, by way of caution—“I want to ask you a question or two; and I’ll trouble you to be very careful what you say, or what you don’t say. I have been commissioned to enquire into a case, touching a certain female of the name”—he pulled a pocketbook from his coat, and dived into it for a moment—“of the name of Patience Miller. Now, this same Patience Miller——”
Betty Siggs suddenly threw up her hands, and clapped them over her ears. Performing a species of little dance, entirely on her own account, with her two feet, she shut her eyes, and called out—“Stop—stop—it ain’t no use! If you puts me on the rack, and draws me out till I’m as thin as the four-ale over the way (and there can’t be anythink much thinner than that)—you won’t get nothink out of me. I know no more than anybody else—not so much, in fact—and what I does know I ain’t agoin’ to tell.”
“So you defy the Law—do you?” roared Tokely—for, Betty Siggs still keeping her hands tightly pressed upon her ears, there was no other way to make himself heard. But Betty Siggs did not wait to hear an account of whatever terrors might be in store for her; watching her opportunity, she wrenched open the door, and darted through into the bar, where—judging by a confused murmur, which presently sprang up, of heavy rustic tongues, leavened pretty strongly by her own shrill voice—she immediately began to stir up war against Inspector Tokely.
Nor did the Inspector see her again for some time. His meal was served to him by a very pretty black-eyed girl, who—evidently secretly instructed by Mrs. Siggs, returned evasive answers to his questions, and remained in the room as little as possible. The Inspector, having refreshed himself, at his country’s expense, to the very best of his ability—sallied forth again into the bar, with a general view, as he would have expressed it, of “keeping an eye on things.”