He hesitated, but when he found another half-sovereign in his palm he consented, not, however, without a good deal of curiosity as to my real object.
What he had told me regarding the Parhams, in addition to that strange scene I had witnessed from the roadway, aroused my suspicion. I somehow felt confident that there was some connection between this man who ill-treated his wife so brutally and the unfortunate victim of the tragedy in rural Sussex I waited in a neighbouring bar until Laking came off duty, and then we walked together down Sydenham Hill to the house called Keymer.
My companion entered by the tradesmen’s lych-gate, and going up to the kitchen door, rapped at it, whereupon a big buxom woman in an apron opened it, and recognising him, gasped,—
“Oh! ’Arry, I’m so glad you’ve come! They told you about it, I suppose?”
“About what? I don’t know anything,” he replied, surprised at her white, scared face and the terrified look of one of the maids who stood behind her.
“Then go into the drawin’-room and look! It’s awful. There’s a curse on this ’ouse. Go and see for yourself.”
Startled, he hurried quickly through the kitchen and along the big, well-furnished hall, I following closely behind him, eager and bewildered.
And what we saw was amazing.