took a chairwhile his hostess drew a glass of beer from the barrel in the kitchen.
Mr. Negget drank gratefully and praised the brew. From beer theconversation turned naturally to the police, and from the police to thelistening Mr. Bodfish, who was economizing space by sitting on the bread-pan, and trembling with agitation.
"He's a lonely man," said Negget, shaking his head and glancing from thecorner of his eye at the door of the larder. In his wildest dreams hehad not imagined so choice a position, and he resolved to give full playto an idea which suddenly occurred to him.
"I dare say," said Mrs. Driver, carelessly, conscious that her friend waswatching her.
"And the heart of a little child," said Negget; "you wouldn't believe howsimple he is."
Mrs. Clowes said that it did him credit, but, speaking for herself, shehadn't noticed it.
"He was talking about you night before last," said Negget, turning to hishostess; "not that that's anything fresh. He always is talking about younowadays."
The widow coughed confusedly and told him not to be foolish.
"Ask my wife," said the farmer, impressively; "they were talking aboutyou for hours. He's a very shy man is my wife's uncle, but you shouldsee his face change when your name's mentioned."
As a matter of fact, Mr. Bodfish's face was at that very moment taking ona deeper shade of crimson.
"Everything you do seems to interest him," continued the farmer,disregarding Mrs. Driver's manifest distress; "he was asking Lizzie aboutyour calling on Monday; how long you stayed, and where you sat; and aftershe'd told him, I'm blest if he didn't go and sit in the same chair!"
This romantic setting to a perfectly casual action on the part of Mr.Bodfish affected the widow visibly, but its effect on the ex-constablenearly upset the bread-pan.
"But here," continued Mr. Negget, with another glance at the larder, "hemight go on like that for years. He's a wunnerful shy man--big, andgentle, and shy. He wanted Lizzie to ask you to tea yesterday."
"Now, Mr. Negget," said the blushing widow. "Do be quiet."
"Fact," replied the farmer; "solemn fact, I assure you. And he asked herwhether you were fond of jewellery."
"I met him twice in the road near here yesterday," said Mrs. Clowes,suddenly. "Perhaps he was waiting for you to come out."
"I dare say," replied the farmer. "I shouldn't wonder but what he'shanging about somewhere near now, unable to tear himself away."
Mr. Bodfish wrung his hands, and his thoughts reverted instinctively toinstances in his memory in which charges of murder had been altered bythe direction of a sensible judge to manslaughter. He held his breathfor the next words.
Mr. Negget drank a little more ale and looked at Mrs. Driver.
MRS. DRIVER FELL RACK BEORE THE EMERGING FORM OF MR.BODFISH]
"I wonder whether you've got a morsel of bread and cheese?" he said,slowly. "I've come over that hungry--"
The widow and Mr. Bodfish rose simultaneously. It required not the brainof a trained detective to know that the cheese was in the larder. Theunconscious Mrs. Driver opened the door, and then with a wild scream fellback before the emerging form of Mr. Bodfish into the arms of Mrs.Clowes. The glass of Mr. Negget smashed on the floor, and the farmerhimself, with every appearance of astonishment, stared at the apparitionopen-mouthed.
"Mr.--Bodfish!" he said at length, slowly.
Mr. Bodfish, incapable of speech, glared at him ferociously.
"Leave him alone," said Mrs. Clowes, who was ministering to her friend."Can't you see the man's upset at frightening her? She's coming round,Mr. Bodfish; don't be alarmed."
"Very good," said the farmer, who found his injured relative's gazesomewhat trying. "I'll go, and leave him to explain to Mrs. Driver whyhe was hidden in her larder. It don't seem a proper thing to me."
"Why, you silly man," said Mrs. Clowes, gleefully, as she paused at thedoor, "that don't want any explanation. Now, Mr. Bodfish, we're givingyou your chance. Mind you make the most of it, and don't be too shy."
She walked excitedly up the road with the farmer, and bidding himgood-bye at the corner, went off hastily to spread the news. Mr. Neggetwalked home soberly, and hardly staying long enough to listen to hiswife's account of the finding of the brooch between the chest of drawersand the wall, went off to spend the evening with a friend, and ended bymaking a night of it.
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