been awakened on both sides, and the affairs of the absent Mr. Egerton have become deeply interesting to them.
Mr. Duck has come to tea this evening by special invitation, for something has occurred of the deepest interest. The firm have news of a very startling character; and what more natural than that, having called in the morning and hinted that he should perhaps have something of great importance to communicate, Mr. Duck should have been requested to come to tea that evening and have a quiet chat?
Mrs. Turvey hated to hear important intelligence on the doorstep, or to have a secret imparted to her in the vulgar daylight, when brushes and brooms were about. If there was a nice delightful mystery to be revealed, or a little scandal to be whispered, let her drink it with her tea, after her work was done, and when she could sit still and enjoy it with muffin and marmalade.
Mr. Duck was quite of her opinion, and so the invitation had been readily accepted.
The only difficulty was Topsey; but this, with great diplomacy, Mrs. Turvey had got over.
The servant next door was going to the Polytechnic that evening, and had promised to take Topsey with her directly Mrs. Turvey hinted that her niece had few opportunities of going out, and she thought that the ghost entertainment was one which, from an educational point of view, no child should miss.
The glance with which Mrs. Turvey favoured Mr. Duck was therefore intended to inform him that he was to hold his tongue on the important matter for the present, but that by-and-by he would have an opportunity of speaking unreservedly.
Mrs. Turvey had not calculated upon also sending the good man’s piece of muffin the wrong way. That was an unforeseen contingency, from which, however, Mr. Duck speedily recovered, and shone as placidly as ever.
When tea was over, and Topsey had been packed off to see the ghost, with instructions not only for the evening but for her entire conduct in life, with many warnings not to tumble under ‘buses or to leave go her friend’s hand, and with strict injunctions not to get entangled in any machinery that might happen to be going at the Polytechnic, Mrs. Turvey settled herself down and prepared to hear Mr. Duck’s narrative.
Mr. Duck commenced by solemnly lifting his eyes to the ceiling, and exclaiming, in dramatic tones:
‘Mrs. Turvey, madam, Mr. Gurth Egerton is there!’
Mrs. Turvey started up with a little scream, and glanced in amazement at the ceiling. Then she looked at Mr. Duck, to see if he was in his right senses.
‘Where?’ she gasped, presently.
‘In heaven, ma’am,’ answered the gentleman; then, dropping his voice and glancing significantly at the carpet, he added, ‘I trust he’s not there.’
‘Lawks a mercy, Mr. Duck, how awful! You don’t mean to say that the master’s dead?’
‘I don’t say positively he is, ma’am, and I can’t say positively that he is not, but the chances are that he is there now.’ Mr. Duck had glanced at the carpet as he spoke, but he instantly corrected the mistake, and looked up solemnly at the ceiling.
‘Mr. Duck,’ said Mrs. Turvey, half crying, ‘don’t trifle with my feelings. I’ve been alone in this house so long, I’ve lost all the nerve I ever had. If the master’s dead I’d rather not stop here. I shouldn’t like to be in a dead man’s house. He was never easy in his life, poor man, and—and——’
‘And he’s just one of those men you’d expect to come wandering about his house after death—eh, Mrs. Turvey?’
‘Well,’ answered the lady, glancing uneasily round, ‘it’s a dreadful thing to say, but I always did believe, and I always shall believe, as the master had—had——’
‘Had something on his conscience that wouldn’t let him rest. Exactly, Mrs. Turvey.’
‘Lor’ how you do catch me up. Well, yes. It’s no good mincing matters. But how and where did he die?’
‘How and where we can’t exactly tell,’ answered Mr. Duck; ‘but from information received, as they say at Scotland Yard, he left America in the Bon Espoir, that was wrecked last summer; and as he has never been heard of since, the conclusion is obvious.’
‘But he might not have come in the Boney’s Paw.’
‘We are certain that he did sail in her. The information that he was among the passengers reached our firm only this week, though the wreck took place six months ago. But the information is correct; the owners confirm it upon application.’
‘But he may be heard of yet. There were some persons saved.’
‘Every one of them is accounted for. The boats were all picked up, and the passengers our firm have written to all state that a Mr. Gurth Egerton was on board. The Diana passed the scene of the wreck, and reported, on her arrival at Baltimore, that she had saved one passenger—a Mr. George Englehardt. Besides, if he had been saved we should, of course, have heard from him. Dr. Birnie was his intimate friend, and is left executor to the will. Dr. Birnie agrees with the firm that Mr. Gurth Egerton went down, my dear Mrs. Turvey, in the Bon Espoir.’
When she realised that her master was actually dead, Mrs. Turvey felt she ought to cry, and she begged Mr. Duck to excuse her while she did so. What was to become of her? She’d lived in the house this ten years, first as servant and then as housekeeper, and of course it wouldn’t be kept on. Oh, it was very dreadful, and she didn’t know what she should do.
Mr. Duck let her have a good cry, and then he shone upon her. ‘My poor soul,’ he said, when the paroxysm was over, ‘you distress yourself needlessly. I think I may tell you, without a breach of confidence, that you are provided for. The will was opened by the firm to-day.’
Mrs. Turvey sobbed again.
Mr. Duck edged his chair a little nearer to her. ‘Susan,’ he said, softly, ‘I shouldn’t have spoken so abruptly but for this. Oh, Susan, you need never want a home.’
Mrs. Turvey looked up through her tears and beheld the shining face of Messrs. Grigg and Limpet’s clerk so close to hers that it almost made her blink. At least that must have been the reason that she turned her head away.
Mr. Duck took her hand.
‘Susan,’ he said, pressing the imprisoned member gently against his shiny satin waistcoat, ‘don’t spurn me. You are alone in the world now, but I can offer you a shelter.
Come, weep on my bosom, my own stricken deer,
Though the world all turn from thee, thy shelter is here.
Those are lines, Susan, which I composed myself the first time I saw you, but which I dared not utter till now.’
The stricken deer sighed, but declined to weep upon the shiny bosom of her adorer.
‘It is very sudden,’ she faltered. ‘I—I really never thought there was anything——’
Jabez assured her there had always been a suspicion; that now it had ripened into a fact.
For an hour or more the conversation was a mixture of poetical quotations, business suggestions, reminiscences of Mr. Gurth Egerton, and tender declarations in Mr. Duck’s shiniest and sweetest manner.
Suddenly there was a loud knock at the door.
Mrs. Turvey jumped up from her chair and straightened her cap.
‘Who is it?’ exclaimed Mr. Duck, nervously.
‘Why, it must be Topsey,’ said the lady, after a moment’s thought. ‘Dear me! I’d no idea it was so late. I think you’d better go, Mr. Duck.’
‘And when shall I call again, Susan?—for your answer.’
Mr. Duck showed his shiny teeth and rolled his shiny eyes so sweetly that Mrs.