hundred pounds. Old servant. Very proper, and all the rest of it. Go on, Mr. Limpet.’
‘Exactly. Mrs. Turvey, therefore you also are interested in proving the death of our late client.’
Mrs. Turvey said ‘Thank you,’ and dropped a curtsey, and wondered whether she ought to shake hands with Grigg and Limpet or not.
‘Now,’ continued Mr. Limpet, ‘everything would be satisfactory, but for the extraordinary statement of—Mr. Grigg, perhaps you——’
‘Certainly,’ said Grigg. ‘You see, madam, you and your daughter——’
‘Niece,’ said Mrs. Turvey, rising and curtseying.
‘Same thing. You and your niece saw a ghost. Law doesn’t acknowledge ghosts. Either you saw Mr. Egerton, not at the bottom of the deep blue sea, but at his own front door, which is a different place altogether. Very, Eh? You did, you know, or you didn’t. Eh? Which?’
Mrs. Turvey rose and curtseyed to the assembly.
‘Which, if it’s the last words I ever speak, gentlemen, I see Mr. Egerton’s ghost that night a-standing at the door, all white and looking dreadful. My niece see it first, and she screams and I comes up, and I shudders now to think of it. I’ll take my happydavid of it, sir, as I’m a Christian woman; and so’ll Topsy: won’t you, dear?’
‘Yes,’ said Topsy, rather scared at being appealed to. Whether the ‘happydavid’ she was required to take was a powder or a sweetmeat, Topsy didn’t know; but in the presence of Grigg and Limpet she would have said ‘Yes’ to anything.
‘My good lady,’ said Grigg, ‘we don’t doubt you; but the law will. Excuse me—mere form of words—you weren’t drunk?’
‘Lor’, no, sir; I don’t do it,’ said Mrs. Turvey, bridling up.
‘Of course not. Well, then, if sober, you saw a man, not a ghost. Little daughter—beg pardon, niece—saw a man. Both sober; both saw same thing. What was it? Who was it? Eh?’
‘I attended this lady,’ put in Dr. Birnie, ‘and I found her suffering from a shock to the nervous system. I am sure she saw something. It couldn’t have been a ghost, and I really don’t see how it could have been the lamented Mr. Egerton.’
‘Certainly not,’ said Grigg; ‘couldn’t have been. Sea don’t give up its dead. Eh, what is it, child?’
Topsy was fidgeting on her chair and whispering to her aunt.
‘Speak out, child,’ said Grigg.
‘Speak out, little one,’ said Limpet; ‘the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth—so help—beg pardon—of course not. Speak the truth, child; what is it?’
‘Please, sir,’ stammered Topsy, very red and shamefaced, ‘perhaps it were the Judgment-day.’
Grigg looked at Limpet, and Limpet looked at Grigg.
As a lady, Topsy fell to Grigg’s share.
‘Judgment-day, eh? Ridiculous—queer notion, eh? What d’ye mean, child?’
‘Please, sir, it says in the Bible that the sea will give up its dead at the Judgment-day.’
‘Ah!—of course—good girl. Always remember Bible—queer notion. But it isn’t the Judgment-day yet—at least, I hope not—eh, Mr. Limpet?’
Mr. Limpet shook his head gravely. Topsy, who wondered if she had said something very wrong, hid her face behind her aunt’s back.
‘The question is,’ resumed Limpet, ‘who was the man Mrs. Turvey and the child saw? That’s it, I think, Dr. Birnie?’
Dr. Birnie nodded.
‘It was my master, Mr. Gurth Egerton’s ghost as I see,’ exclaimed Mrs. Turvey emphatically; ‘and nothing will turn me from that.’
Mr. Limpet turned to Mr. Symonds.
‘We have your statement and your address, I think, Mr. Symonds?’
‘Yes, sir,’ answered the seafaring gentleman, ‘my address when ashore; but I ain’t often there. I’m mostly a little beyond the four-mile radius.’
Mr. Limpet smiled condescendingly.
‘Then for the present we can spare you, Mr. Symonds. The firm will see you compensated for any trouble you may be put to.’
‘Thank you, cap’en and gen’l’men, one and all,’ said Mr. Symonds; ‘and good-morning, ladies—yours most obedient.’
Mr. Symonds made a leg, swung his hat in the nautical manner and rolled out of the room.
‘Mrs. Turvey, for the present I hope you will remain in charge of the house now we have found a woman to be with you.’
‘Yes, sir,’ answered Mrs. Turvey; ‘I don’t mind now I’ve company; and I never was afeard of human beings; but ghosts I was not brought up to, and never shall be.’
‘Certainly not, my dear madam,’ said Limpet. ‘We will send to you again when necessary. Good-morning.’
Mrs. Turvey rose to go. She curtseyed, and led Topsy to the door.
‘Good-day, child,’ said Mr. Grigg. ‘Day of Judgment—queer notion for a child—always remember Bible.’
When Mrs. Turvey and Topsy had departed, Messrs. Grigg and Limpet had a long and earnest conversation with Dr. Birnie, the result of which was the drawing up of an advertisement, to be inserted in the Times, requesting the present address of Mr. George Englehardt, the rescued passenger of the Bon Espoir. He might be able to prove even to the law that Gurth Egerton was dead, and his property at liberty to be dealt with.
And when his employers were busy in room B, Mr. Jabez slipped out of the office, and, meeting Mrs. Turvey at the door, escorted her home to what he informed her he now looked upon as a haunted house.
‘The sort of house, Susan,’ he said, ‘which I had in my mind’s eye, Horatio, when I wrote a few lines promiscuously, beginning:
And over all there hung a sense of fear
That e’en the boldest might well have daunted;
And apparitions made it very clear
The place was haunted,’—
which mutilation of Hood, being dramatically recited in High Holborn, caused the passers-by to stare, and Mrs. Turvey to clutch hold of Jabez’s arm tightly, if not lovingly.
CHAPTER XI. A VERY NICE OLD GENTLEMAN.
Two days had elapsed since a letter was despatched to Mr. A. B., informing him that Mr. George Smith was willing to accept his proffered situation, and no reply had been received.
George declared that Bess’s nose was beginning to get quite flat at the tip from being constantly pressed against the window-glass while she watched for the postman.
He was a most disagreeable postman. He went next door and opposite, and this side and that; he rattat-tatted at every door but Mr. Duck’s.
George got to know the time for the deliveries after the first day, and he would go down and wait at the front-door and watch the postman as he came down the street. When he got close up George felt quite hot; but as time after time he passed by without the faintest indication of having anything for the Ducks’ letter-box, a feeling of terrible disappointment crept over the young man’s heart.
He