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Page 41
Collingwood sat a long time that night, thinking over the things he had
heard. He came to the conclusion that the domineering blacksmith was
right in one of his dogmatic assertions--there was trouble ahead. And
next morning, before going up to the Grange, he went to the nearest
telegraph office, and sent Sir John Standridge a lengthy message in
which he resigned the appointment that would have taken him to India.
CHAPTER XII
THE POWER OF ATTORNEY
Collingwood had many things to think over as he walked across Normandale
Park that morning. He had deliberately given up his Indian appointment
for Nesta's sake, so that he might be near her in case the trouble which
he feared arose suddenly. But it was too soon yet to let her know that
she was the cause of his altered arrangements--in any case, that was not
the time to tell her that it was on her account that he had altered
them.
He must make some plausible excuse: then he must settle down in Barford,
according to Eldrick's suggestion. He would then be near at hand--and if
the trouble, whatever it might be, took tangible form, he would be able
to help. But he was still utterly in the dark as to what that possible
trouble might be--yet, of one thing he felt convinced--it would have
some connection with Pratt.
He remembered, as he walked along, that he had formed some queer, uneasy
suspicion about Pratt when he first hurried down to Barford on hearing
of Antony Bartle's death: that feeling, subsequently allayed to some
extent, had been revived. There might be nothing in it, he said to
himself, over and over again; everything that seemed strange might be
easily explained; the evidence of Pratt at the inquest had appeared
absolutely truthful and straightforward, and yet the blunt, rough,
downright question of the blacksmith, crudely voiced as it was, found a
ready agreement in Collingwood's mind. As he drew near the house he
found himself repeating Stringer's broad Yorkshire--"What wor that
lawyer-clerk chap fro' Barford--Pratt--doin' about theer? What reight
had he to be prowlin' round t' neighbourhood o' that bridge, and at that
time? Come, now--theer's a tickler for somebody!" And even as he smiled
at the remembrance of the whole rustic conversation of the previous
evening, and thought that the blacksmith's question certainly might be a
ticklish one--for somebody--he looked up from the frosted grass at his
feet, and saw Pratt.
Pratt, a professional-looking bag in his hand, a morning newspaper under
the other arm, was standing at the gate of one of the numerous
shrubberies which flanked the Grange, talking to a woman who leaned over
it. Collingwood recognized her as a person whom he had twice seen in the
house during his visits on the day before---a middle-aged, slightly
built woman, neatly dressed in black, and wearing a sort of nurse's cap
which seemed to denote some degree of domestic servitude. She was a
woman who had once been pretty, and who still retained much of her good
looks; she was also evidently of considerable shrewdness and
intelligence and possessed a pair of remarkably quick eyes--the sort of
eyes, thought Collingwood, that see everything that happens within their
range of vision. And she had a firm chin and a mouth which expressed
determination; he had seen all that as she exchanged some conversation
with the old butler in Collingwood's presence--a noticeable woman
altogether. She was evidently in close conference with Pratt at that
moment--but as Collingwood drew near she turned and went slowly in the
direction of the house, while Pratt, always outwardly polite, stepped
towards the interrupter of this meeting, and lifted his hat.
"Good morning, Mr. Collingwood," he said. "A fine, sharp morning, sir! I
was just asking Mrs. Mallathorpe's maid how her mistress is this
morning--she was very ill when I left last night. Better, sir, I'm glad
to say--Mrs. Mallathorpe has had a much better night."
"I'm very pleased to hear it," replied Collingwood. He was going towards
the front of the Grange, and Pratt walked at his side, evidently in the
same direction. "I am afraid she has had a great shock. You are still
here, then?" he went on, feeling bound to make some remark, and saying
the first obvious thing. "Still busy?"
"Mr. Eldrick has lent me--so to speak--until the funeral's over,
tomorrow," answered Pratt. "There are a lot of little things in which I
can be useful, you know, Mr. Collingwood. I suppose your
arrangements--you said you were sailing for India--won't permit of your
being present tomorrow, sir?"
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