Philip Martindale requested Mr. Denver immediately to accompany him to the spot, that they might be assured whether or not any violence had been used, and whether there was any necessity for the interference of a magistrate. In their way they called on the constable, who was frightened out of his wits at the thought of going into a house where a man lay murdered. But the presence of Philip Martindale inspired him with an extraordinary share of courage. As they proceeded, they saw groups of people standing here and there, discussing with great gravity, the mysterious affair of the old man’s cottage. They looked with great earnestness on Mr. Martindale and his companions; and their murmurings and whisperings grew thicker and deeper.
When at length they arrived at the cottage, they found it surrounded by a crowd of women and children, and idle girls and boys. The women were all talking, and the girls and boys were clambering up to the cottage-windows, or were mounted on trees that were near, as if to catch a glimpse of something within the cottage. At the approach of Philip Martindale and his party, the boys and girls slunk down from the windows; the women stayed their loud talking; the whole multitude buzzed with low whisperings; and the faces of all were turned towards the magistrate, who was hastily dragging the clergyman by his arm, and was followed at a very respectful distance by the constable.
Not staying to make any inquiries, Philip Martindale hastily opened the door of the cottage, and leading in Mr. Denver, he turned round and urged the constable to make haste in. When he entered the apartment, he saw presently that one part of the clergyman’s narrative was incorrect, namely, that which referred to the murder of old Richard Smith; for there sat the old man in life and health, but apparently in a state of great agitation, unable to answer a word to the impatient and numerous interrogatories of Philip Martindale and Mr. Denver. A very short interval elapsed, before there appeared from an inner-room a person who was likely to be able to give some rational account of the mystery. This person was a surgeon. As soon as he heard Mr. Martindale’s voice, he came forward to explain the affair.
“Pray, Mr. Davis,” exclaimed the magistrate, “what is the cause of all this bustle and confusion? Mr. Denver has been informed that this poor man was murdered. What has given rise to such a rumour?”
“I am happy to say, sir,” replied Mr. Davis, “that there has been no life lost, though there was great danger of it; and I fear that this poor man will suffer seriously from the agitation which he has undergone. If you will give me leave, sir, I will tell you all the particulars. A little better than an hour ago, just as I was preparing to go my rounds, a boy came running almost breathless into my surgery, imploring me to make all the haste I could up to old Richard Smith’s cottage, for there was a man there who was so dreadfully wounded that he was almost killed. Of course I made the best of my way here; and when I arrived, I found the poor man sitting, as he is now, quite speechless; and while I was endeavouring to learn from him what was the matter, there came into the room a gentleman, who spoke like a foreigner, and asked if I was a surgeon, and begged me to step into the back room; there I found upon the bed one of the gipsies that have been here for some days, just at the edge of the common. They are gone now, all but this man. I found, sir, that this man had been severely wounded with a pistol-ball, and that he had suffered much from loss of blood. I immediately dressed the wound, which is by no means dangerous, and then inquired of the foreign gentleman what was the cause of the accident; for I could not get a single word from the man himself. It appeared, sir, from the account which the stranger gave me, that the gipsey had broke into the cottage in the night, or rather early in the morning, and that he was threatening to murder this poor old man if he would not tell where his money was. The stranger hearing a noise in the apartment where Richard Smith slept, listened, and soon ascertained the cause of it; fearing that the robber might have fire-arms in his possession, he seized a pistol, and without farther thought entered the room, and discharged it at the robber. The gentleman also informed me that he heard the voices of persons outside the cottage, but that after he had discharged the pistol, they retreated. He tells me that Richard Smith, in consequence of the fright, has not been able to speak since.”
On hearing this account, Philip Martindale expressed a wish to see the foreigner, of whom Mr. Davis had made mention; and upon his introduction, he immediately recognised the Italian whom he had met in London a day or two ago. The poor foreigner looked full of concern for the hasty manner in which he had acted, and seemed to fear that he had violated the law. He made many apologies to Philip Martindale, whom he presently recognised as a person of some importance; but his mind was soon set at ease, when he was informed that what he had done was perfectly legal. He then repeated with great energy the obligations under which he lay to his very good friend, who had so kindly assisted him in finding his wife and child.
The next step was the committal of the wounded man for burglary; and upon the assurance of Mr. Davis that he might be safely moved, the commitment was accordingly made out; and the stranger, who gave his name as Giulio Rivolta, was bound over to give evidence at the trial.
Matters being thus arranged, Philip and the clergyman returned to give the old gentleman a more accurate version of the story than he had before heard. Mr. Denver underwent, as was usual, a lecture from the old gentleman, on the folly of telling stories just as he heard them, without taking any trouble, to ascertain as he easily might in most cases, whether those said stories were true or false. And when the truth of the matter came to be generally known in Brigland, every body laughed at every body for circulating, inventing, and believing improbable tales; and all the idle, gossiping people in the town, went about from house to house, complaining, bewailing, and lamenting, that Brigland was the most idle, gossiping, censorious place in the world. But still it was insinuated that there was something very mysterious in the business, which was not yet brought to light. There was more talk than ever concerning Richard Smith; and nobody could recollect when or how he first came to take up his abode at Brigland.