The Sittaford Mystery by Christie Agatha

Author:Christie, Agatha [Agatha, Christie,]
Format: epub, azw3, mobi, pdf
Published: 2010-06-23T04:00:00+00:00

The Sittaford Mystery

Chapter 18

EMILY VISITS SITTAFORD HOUSE

As Emily walked briskly along the lane she noticed once more how the character of the morning was changing. The mist was closing up and round.

“What an awful place to live in England is,” thought Emily. “If it isn't snowing or raining or blowing it's misty. And if the sun does shine it's so cold that you can't feel your fingers or toes.”

She was interrupted in these reflections by a rather hoarse voice speaking rather close to her right ear.

“Excuse me,” it said, “but do you happen to have seen a bull terrier?”

Emily started and turned. Leaning over a gate was a tall thin man with a very brown complexion, bloodshot eyes and gray hair. He was propped up with a crutch on one side, and was eyeing Emily with enormous interest. She had no difficulty in identifying him as Captain Wyatt, the invalid owner of No. 3 The Cottages.

“No, I haven't,” said Emily.

“She's got out,” said Captain Wyatt. “An affectionate creature, but an absolute fool. With all these cars and things -”

“I shouldn't think many motors come up this lane,” said Emily.

“Charabancs do in the summer time,” said Captain Wyatt grimly. “It's the three and sixpenny morning run from Exhampton. Ascent of Sittaford Beacon with a halt halfway up from Exhampton for light refreshments.”

“Yes, but this isn't summer time,” said Emily.

“All the same a charabanc came along just now. Reporters, I suppose, going to have a look at Sittaford House.”

“Did you know Captain Trevelyan well?” asked Emily.

She was of the opinion that the incident of the bull terrier had been a mere subterfuge on Captain Wyatt's part dictated by a very natural curiosity. She was, she was well aware, the principal object of attention in Sittaford at present, and it was only natural that Captain Wyatt should wish to have a look at her as well as everyone else.

“I don't know about well,” said Captain Wyatt. “He sold me this cottage.”

“Yes,” said Emily encouragingly.

“A skinflint, that's what he was,” said Captain Wyatt. “The arrangement was that he was to do the place up to suit the purchaser's taste, and just because I had the window sashes in chocolate picked out in lemon, he wanted me to pay half. Said the arrangement was for a uniform color.”

“You didn't like him,” said Emily.

“I was always having rows with him,” said Captain Wyatt. “But I always have rows with everyone,” he added as an afterthought. “In a place like this you have to teach people to leave a man alone. Always knocking at the door and dropping in and chattering. I don't mind seeing people when I am in the mood - but it has got to be my mood not theirs. No good Trevelyan giving me his Lord of the Manor airs and dropping in whenever he felt like it. There's not a soul in the place comes near me now,” he added with satisfaction.

“Oh!” said Emily.

“That's the best of having a native servant,” said Captain Wyatt.

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