|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 10
"We must think that over," answered Collingwood.
"Well, an' theer's all ready for that, too," responded Mrs. Clough.
"He's had his grave all ready i' the cemetery this three year--I
remember when he bowt it--it's under a yew-tree, and he told me 'at he'd
ordered his monnyment an' all. So yer an' t' lawyers'll have no great
trouble about them matters. Mestur Eldrick, he gev' orders for t' coffin
last night."
Collingwood left these gruesome details--highly pleasing to their
narrator--and went up to look at his dead grandfather. He had never seen
much of him, but they had kept up a regular correspondence, and always
been on terms of affection, and he was sorry that he had not been with
the old man at the last. He remained looking at the queer, quiet, old
face for a while; when he went down again, Mrs. Clough was talking to a
sharp-looking lad, of apparently sixteen or seventeen years, who stood
at the door leading into the shop, and who glanced at Collingwood with
keen interest and speculation.
"Here's Jabey Naylor wants to know if he's to do aught, Mestur," said
the housekeeper. "Of course, I've telled him 'at we can't have the shop
open till the burying's over--so I don't know what theer is that he can
do."
"Oh, well, let him come into the shop with me," answered Collingwood. He
motioned the lad to follow him out of the parlour. "So you were Mr.
Bartle's assistant, eh?" he asked. "Had he anybody else?"
"Nobody but me, sir," replied the lad. "I've been with him a year."
"And your name's what?" inquired Collingwood.
"Jabez Naylor, sir, but everybody call me Jabey."
"I see--Jabey for short, eh?" said Collingwood good-humouredly. He
walked into the shop, followed by the boy, and closed the door. The
outer door into Quagg Alley was locked: a light blind was drawn over the
one window; the books and engravings on the shelves and in the presses
were veiled in a half-gloom. "Well, as Mrs. Clough says, we can't do any
business for a few days, Jabey--after that we must see what can be done.
You shall have your wages just the same, of course, and you may look in
every day to see if there's anything you can do. You were here
yesterday, of course? Were you in the shop when Mr. Bartle went out?"
"Yes, sir," replied the lad. "I'd been in with him all the afternoon. I
was here when he went out--and here when they came to say he'd died at
Mr. Eldrick's."
Collingwood sat down in his grandfather's chair, at a big table, piled
high with books and papers, which stood in the middle of the floor.
"Did my grandfather seem at all unwell when he went out?" he asked.
"No, sir. He had been coughing a bit more than usual--that was all.
There was a fog came on about five o'clock, and he said it bothered
him."
"What had he been doing during the afternoon? Anything particular?"
"Nothing at all particular before half-past four or so, sir."
Collingwood took a closer look at Jabez Naylor. He saw that he was an
observant lad, evidently of superior intelligence--a good specimen of
the sharp town lad, well trained in a modern elementary school.
"Oh?" he said. "Nothing particular before half-past four, eh? Did he do
something particular after half-past four?"
"There was a post came in just about then, sir," answered Jabey. "There
was an American letter--that's it, sir--just in front of you. Mr. Bartle
read it, and asked me if we'd got a good clear copy of Hopkinson's
_History of Barford_. I reminded him that there was a copy amongst the
books that had been bought from Mallathorpe's Mill some time ago."
"Books that had belonged to Mr. John Mallathorpe, who was killed?" asked
Collingwood, who was fully acquainted with the chimney accident.
"Yes, sir, Mr. Bartle bought a lot of books that Mr. Mallathorpe had at
the Mill--local books. They're there in that corner: they were put there
when I fetched them, and he'd never looked over them since,
particularly."
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|