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Page 71
"Glassdale! That man!" exclaimed Bryce, who was puzzling his
brain over possible developments.
"That man, sir!" repeated Harker. "That's why Glassdale was
in Wrychester the day of Braden's death. And that's why
Braden, or Brake, came to Wrychester at all. He and
Glassdale, of course, had somehow come into possession of the
secret, and no doubt meant to tell the Duke together, and get
the reward--there was 95,000 offered! And as Brake's dead,
Glassdale's spoken, but"--here the old man paused and gave his
companion a shrewd look--"the question still remains: How did
Brake come to his end?"
CHAPTER XVII
TO BE SHADOWED
Dick Bewery burst in upon his sister and Ransford with a
budget of news such as it rarely fell to the lot of
romance-loving seventeen to tell. Secret and mysterious digging
up of grave-yards by night--discovery of sealed packets, the
contents of which might only be guessed at--the whole thing
observed by hidden spectators--these were things he had read of
in fiction, but had never expected to have the luck to see in
real life. And being gifted with some powers of imagination
and of narrative, he made the most of his story to a pair of
highly attentive listeners, each of whom had his, and her, own
reasons for particular attention.
"More mystery!" remarked Mary when Dick's story had come to an
end. "What a pity they didn't open the parcel!" She looked
at Ransford, who was evidently in deep thought. "I suppose it
will all come out?" she suggested.
"Sure to!" he answered, and turned to Dick. "You say Bryce
fetched old Harker--after you and Bryce had watched these
operations a bit? Did he say why he fetched him?"
"Never said anything as to his reasons," answered Dick. "But,
I rather guessed, at the end, that Bryce wanted me to keep
quiet about it, only old Harker said there was no need."
Ransford made no comment on this, and Dick, having exhausted
his stock of news, presently went off to bed.
"Master Bryce," observed Ransford, after a period of silence,
"is playing a game! What it is, I don't know--but I'm certain
of it. Well, we shall see! You've been much upset by all
this," he went on, after another pause, "and the knowledge
that you have has distressed me beyond measure! But just have
a little--a very little--more patience, and things will be
cleared--I can't tell all that's in my mind, even to you."
Mary, who had been sewing while Ransford, as was customary
with him in an evening, read the Times to her, looked down at
her work.
"I shouldn't care, if only these rumours in the town--about
you--could be crushed!" she said. "It's so cruel, so vile,
that such things--"
Ransford snapped his fingers.
"I don't care that about the rumours!" he answered,
contemptuously. "They'll be crushed out just as suddenly as
they arose--and then, perhaps, I'll let certain folk in
Wrychester know what I think of them. And as regards the
suspicion against me, I know already that the only people in
the town for whose opinion I care fully accept what I said
before the Coroner. As to the others, let them talk! If the
thing comes to a head before its due time--"
"You make me think that you know more--much more!--than you've
ever told me!" interrupted Mary.
"So I do!" he replied. "And you'll see in the end why I've
kept silence. Of course, if people who don't know as much
will interfere--"
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