|
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 27
As he put the question, he abruptly looked over his shoulder. He
was standing between Crayford and Frank. Crayford, taking no part
in the conversation, had been watching him, and listening to him
more and more attentively as that conversation went on. Within
the last moment or two Wardour had become instinctively conscious
of this. He resented Crayford's conduct with needless
irritability.
"Why are you staring at me?" he asked.
"Why are you looking unlike yourself?" Crayford answered,
quietly.
Wardour made no reply. He renewed the conversation with Frank.
"One of the county families?" he resumed. "The Winterbys of Yew
Grange, I dare say?"
"No," said Frank; "but friends of the Witherbys, very likely. The
Burnhams."
Desperately as he struggled to maintain it, Wardour's
self-control failed him. He started violently. The clumsily-wound
handkerchief fell off his hand. Still looking at him attentively,
Crayford picked it up.
"There is your handkerchief, Richard," he said. "Strange!"
"What is strange?"
"You told us you had hurt yourself with the ax--"
"Well?"
"There is no blood on your handkerchief."
Wardour snatched the handkerchief out of Crayford's hand, and,
turning away, approached the outer door of the hut. "No blood on
the handkerchief," he said to himself. "There may be a stain or
two when Crayford sees it again." He stopped within a few paces
of the door, and spoke to Crayford. "You recommended me to take
leave of my brother officers before it was too late," he said. "I
am going to follow your advice."
The door was opened from the outer side as he laid his hand on
the lock.
One of the quartermasters of the _Wanderer_ entered the hut.
"Is Captain Helding here, sir?" he asked, addressing himself to
Wardour.
Wardour pointed to Crayford.
"The lieutenant will tell you," he said.
Crayford advanced and questioned the quartermaster. "What do you
want with Captain Helding?" he asked.
"I have a report to make, sir. There has been an accident on the
ice."
"To one of your men?"
"No, sir. To one of our officers."
Wardour, on the point of going out, paused when the quartermaster
made that reply. For a moment he considered with himself. Then he
walked slowly back to the part of the room in which Frank was
standing. Crayford, directing the quartermaster, pointed to the
arched door way in the side of the hut.
"I am sorry to hear of the accident," he said. "You will find
Captain Helding in that room."
For the second time, with singular persistency, Wardour renewed
the conversation with Frank.
"So you knew the Burnhams?" he said. "What became of Clara when
her father died?"
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|