"Humph! From all I have heard, there is very little lamentation over the Colonel's death."
"Scandal and evil tongues," replied Mr. Corn rather tautologically, "Carr had his good points."
"That is what Miss Endicotte says."
"Indeed! I was not aware that you knew Miss Endicotte?"
"She came to the inn this morning to see Inspector Bridge about this--"
"Wait!" said the Revd. Pentland in a hurry, "some mistake. Miss Bess is the journalist. Her elder sister Miss Ida is the head of the family. The nominal head I should say, since Miss Bess manages everything."
The rector smiled as he spoke, and Herrick on account of that smile took rather a fancy to him. The Revd. Pentland Corn--wonderful name--was something under forty; and looked more like a soldier than a parson. He had a smart soldierly figure, wore a moustache, and his hair cropped close. But for his clothes, Herrick would have taken him for a military man. He looked pale, there were dark circles under his eyes, and he seemed to be labouring under considerable stress of emotion. Perhaps the death of Carr had been too much for him. Yet after the first remark he shirked the subject and talked of the Endicottes.
"That is the proper name of the family," said Corn hurriedly, "a very old family in these parts. But Miss Bess calls her collective brothers and sisters 'The Biff's.'"
Dr. Jim smiled. There seemed to be something fascinating about the name, something characteristic of the girl he had met at the inn. "The Biff's," he repeated laughing outright, "and how is that derived from the high sounding name of Endicotte?"
"It is not derived from that at all Dr. Herrick. It is simply the initials of the family. There are five of them. Bess, Ida, Frank, Flo, and Sidney."
"I see; Biff's! Ha! Ha, how amusing. Do they live near here?"
"A quarter of a mile away, at the back of my house. Sidney is my pupil and a strange boy he is. But I have no business to tell all these things to a stranger," added Corn in confusion.
"Anything you say to me is perfectly safe," replied Herrick pleasantly. "I think Miss Bess a clever young lady."
"And as good as she is clever."
"A great friend of the late Colonel's I believe," said Jim.
Pentland Corn moistened his dry lips. "He was kind to her," was his reply delivered in a faint voice. "You will excuse my emotion Dr. Herrick but I am rather shaken by this death. Usually we are free from crime, and for this to happen in my parish! It is terrible.
"You knew Colonel Carr well?"
"Very well. I tried to win him from his evil ways. But he was cut off in the midst of his sin. Oh, it is awful. Yet I liked him. He was a good friend to me on one occasion. The reason I stopped you, was to ask if you met anyone in the house last night."
"No one. Myself and my friend hunted all over it. The servant bolted, I have been told."
"Frisco has certainly disappeared," responded Corn looking at the ground, "but I do not think he is the guilty person. He was devoted to the Colonel."
"Then why did he run away?"
"Ah! who can say! There was a mystery in Colonel Carr's life Mr. Herrick, which I fear will never be cleared up. You will be at the Inquest?"
"Yes. It takes place at three this afternoon. And you sir?"
"No! I shall not be there. I cannot bear to--but that is neither here nor there," broke off Corn hurriedly, "tell me, was the house alight?"
"Every room was lighted. It blazed like a palace in the wood."
"Colonel Carr's whim. He surrounded himself with the most beautiful things and installed the electric light. Water power you know," added the rector rather inconsequently. "I expect the wheel was going constantly for the two days before the body was discovered."
Herrick recollected the murmur in the wood, and now guessed that it came from the waterfall, which turned the wheel for the dynamos. There was no doubt that Colonel Carr surrounded himself with every comfort. "Did he ever have guests to stay with him?" he asked.
The rector made a gesture of surprise. "If you had known Colonel Carr you would not ask such a question. He hated his fellow-mortals."
"Then why had he so many bedrooms?"
"I cannot tell you. But I am certain that he never had anyone to stay in the house. I have been in it once or twice myself, and Miss Bess has paid a visit. But no other person has ever entered."
"Humph! Quite a mystery. What about Marsh?"
"Ah I expect you heard of him from Miss Bess. He is a great friend of the Biffs. Stephen Marsh will inherit the Colonel's property I expect."
"What relation was he to Carr?"
"His nephew. But the two never spoke. They hated each other."
"Mrs. Marsh then is the Colonel's sister?"
"Oh, dear me no. The present Mrs. Marsh is only step-mother to Stephen. A violent terrible woman with Italian blood in her veins. It was she I think who put Stephen against his uncle."
"She is very ill I hear. Pneumonia."
"Dear me," said Corn startled, "why she was at my house on Tuesday! But it was raining when Stephen came for her. I expect she got a chill then."
"No doubt. At all events she is seriously ill now I understand."
"Ha!" said the rector and looked down again. "I wonder if any doctor will attend her. She has quarrelled with them all. Well, there is no more to be said Dr. Herrick. By the way, if I have talked freely, you must excuse me for doing so. I have a reason. Some day I hope to tell it to you. Are you stopping here for long?"
"A day or so. I am on a walking tour with my friend Mr. Joyce. We return shortly to London. Good-day Mr. Corn."
"Good-day," replied the rector raising his hat, and slipped away into the gorse bushes like a ghost.
Herrick walked on somewhat puzzled. What was the meaning of this frank speech, to a stranger. The parson looked smarter and more of a man of the world than many serious minded people would have approved of. Yet he had talked, to say the least of it, in a most indiscreet manner. Moreover he had promised (quite unnecessarily) to explain his reason for doing so to the doctor. What did it all mean? "Does he know something, as well as Miss Bess?" thought Herrick returning to the inn. "Both of them seem to have a better opinion of Colonel Carr, than the rest of the people. Humph! I seem to be surrounded by mysteries here. Well. We shall see what the inquest will do."
Robin proved more fractious than Herrick expected. He was most anxious to be present at the inquest: but in the end over-ruled by the stronger will of his friend, he consented to remain where he was. The doctor walked by himself to the Pines, and was received by Inspector Bridge who introduced him to the Coroner, and to Dr. Tiler, who had examined the body. After some discussion, Bridge collected a jury of mixed villagers and Beorminster citizens. After these had inspected the body, the witnesses were called.
Herrick gave evidence of his discovery, of the position of the body, and of the condition of the house. He was followed by Tiler, who declared that in his opinion Carr had been shot on Tuesday night (going by the condition of the body). He flouted the idea of suicide.
"The shirt-front was neither blackened nor singed," said Tiler, "and it would have been had the deceased fired the revolver at so close a range. He was shot through the heart, and as I believe, by someone who stood at the door. It seems to me, that he was standing by the bed, and heard a footstep on the stairs. At once he turned, only to meet the levelled revolver. The shot passed through his heart and imbedded itself in the opposite wall. Again, there are three other shots in different parts of the body. One in the neck, another in the abdomen, and a third in the right leg. But