In the Fog by Richard Harding Davis

Author:Richard Harding Davis
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MysteriousPress.com/Open Road
Published: 2016-02-04T15:41:37+00:00

CHAPTER III

SIR ANDREW ROSE WITH DISAPPROVAL written in every lineament.

“I thought your story would bear upon the murder,” he said. “Had I imagined it would have nothing whatsoever to do with it I would not have remained.” He pushed back his chair and bowed stiffly. “I wish you good night,” he said.

There was a chorus of remonstrance, and under cover of this and the Baronet’s answering protests a servant for the second time slipped a piece of paper into the hand of the gentleman with the pearl stud. He read the lines written upon it and tore it into tiny fragments.

The youngest member, who had remained an interested but silent listener to the tale of the Queen’s Messenger, raised his hand commandingly.

“Sir Andrew,” he cried, “in justice to Lord Arthur Chetney I must ask you to be seated. He has been accused in our hearing of a most serious crime, and I insist that you remain until you have heard me clear his character.”

“You!” cried the Baronet.

“Yes,” answered the young man briskly. “I would have spoken sooner,” he explained, “but that I thought this gentleman”—he inclined his head toward the Queen’s Messenger—“was about to contribute some facts of which I was ignorant. He, however, has told us nothing, and so I will take up the tale at the point where Lieutenant Sears laid it down and give you those details of which Lieutenant Sears is ignorant. It seems strange to you that I should be able to add the sequel to this story. But the coincidence is easily explained. I am the junior member of the law firm of Chudleigh & Chudleigh. We have been solicitors for the Chetneys for the last two hundred years. Nothing, no matter how unimportant, which concerns Lord Edam and his two sons is unknown to us, and naturally we are acquainted with every detail of the terrible catastrophe of last night.”

The Baronet, bewildered but eager, sank back into his chair.

“Will you be long, sir!” he demanded.

“I shall endeavor to be brief,” said the young solicitor; “and,” he added, in a tone which gave his words almost the weight of a threat, “I promise to be interesting.”

“There is no need to promise that,” said Sir Andrew, “I find it much too interesting as it is.” He glanced ruefully at the clock and turned his eyes quickly from it.

“Tell the driver of that hansom,” he called to the servant, “that I take him by the hour.”

“For the last three days,” began young Mr. Chudleigh, “as you have probably read in the daily papers, the Marquis of Edam has been at the point of death, and his physicians have never left his house. Every hour he seemed to grow weaker; but although his bodily strength is apparently leaving him forever, his mind has remained clear and active. Late yesterday evening word was received at our office that he wished my father to come at once to Chetney House and to bring with him certain papers. What these

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