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Page 65
"For the present you have me under suspicion!" interrupted
Ransford hotly. "You know it--I say this with due respect to
your office--as well as I do. Suspicion is rife in the city
against me. Rumour is being spread--secretly--and, I am
certain--from the police, who ought to know better. And--I
will not be silenced, Mr. Coroner!--I take this public
opportunity, as I am on oath, of saying that I know nothing
whatever of the causes of the deaths of either Collishaw or of
Braden--upon my solemn oath!"
"The inquest is adjourned to this day week," said the Coroner
quietly.
Ransford suddenly stepped down from the witness-box and
without word or glance at any one there, walked with set face
and determined look out of the court, and the excited
spectators, gathering into groups, immediately began to
discuss his vigorous outburst and to take sides for and
against him.
Bryce, judging it advisable to keep away from Mitchington just
then, and, for similar reasons, keeping away from Harker also,
went out of the crowded building alone--to be joined in the
street outside by Sackville Bonham, whom he had noticed in
court, in company with his stepfather, Mr. Folliot.
Folliot, Bryce had observed, had stopped behind, exchanging
some conversation with the Coroner. Sackville came up to
Bryce with a knowing shake of the hand. He was one of those
very young men who have a habit of suggesting that their fund
of knowledge is extensive and peculiar, and Bryce waited for a
manifestation.
"Queer business, all that, Bryce!" observed Sackville
confidentially. "Of course, Ransford is a perfect ass!"
"Think so?" remarked Bryce, with an inflection which suggested
that Sackville's opinion on anything was as valuable as the
Attorney-General's. "That's how it strikes you, is it?"
"Impossible that it could strike one in any other way, you
know," answered Sackville with fine and lofty superiority.
"Ransford should have taken immediate steps to clear himself
of any suspicion. It's ridiculous, considering his position
--guardian to--to Miss Bewery, for instance--that he should
allow such rumours to circulate. By God, sir, if it had been
me, I'd have stopped 'em!--before they left the parish pump!"
"Ah?" said Bryce. "And--how?"
"Made an example of somebody," replied Sackville, with
emphasis. "I believe there's law in this country, isn't
there?--law against libel and slander, and that sort of thing,
eh? Oh, yes!"
"Not been much time for that--yet," remarked Bryce.
"Piles of time," retorted Sackville, swinging his stick
vigorously. "No, sir, Ransford is an ass! However, if
a man won't do things for himself, well, his friends
must do something for him. Ransford, of course, must be
pulled--dragged!--out of this infernal hole. Of course he's
suspected! But my stepfather--he's going to take a hand.
And my stepfather, Bryce, is a devilish cute old hand at a
game of this sort!"
"Nobody doubts Mr. Folliot's abilities, I'm sure," said Bryce.
"But--you don't mind saying--how is he going to take a hand?"
"Stir things towards a clearing-up," announced Sackville
promptly. "Have the whole thing gone into--thoroughly. There
are matters that haven't been touched on, yet. You'll see, my
boy!"
"Glad to hear it," said Bryce. "But--why should Mr. Folliot
be so particular about clearing Ransford?"
Sackville swung his stick, and pulled up his collar, and
jerked his nose a trifle higher.
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