About This Book
The clock of St. Clement Danes was chiming the hour of eleven as Mr.Gillespie, folding up the brief which had engaged his attention all theevening, yawned, drained the last of his toddy and rose to betakehimself to bed; indeed he had just taken up his chamber candle and wasin the act of extinguishing the candelabrum upon the table when hepaused and stood staring beneath puckered brows as a sudden knockingsounded upon the outer door.For maybe a full minute Mr. Gillespie stood, his lank figure stooped alittle forward, eyes fixed, grim lips close-set, listening to this softyet very persistent rapping; then he crossed the cosy room to a bureauin a corner and opening a drawer took thence a ponderous horse-pistol;thus armed he reached for the candle and approached the front door, hisage-worn slippers flip-flapping resolutely over the uneven flooring.Hullo! cried he loudly, Who is there?Here a hoarse murmur from beyond the stout oak.Who is it? he demanded, You must speak up!At this, the voice waxed louder and hoarser; whereupon Mr. Gillespie,as if reassured, set his unwieldy weapon upon the floor and proceededto draw bolts, loose chains, unbar and turn massive key; whereupon theheavy door swung open to discover a shortish, thick-set man who beamedand blinked upon Mr. Gillespie from the shadow of a hat extremelyshaggy as to nap and wide as to brim.You keeps yourself werry partickler secure, Mr. Gillespie sir! saidhe, touching hat-brim with the knob of a stout and remarkably knobbystick. Ay, secure is the vord, sir, v'ich ain't to be vondered atcon-sidering that you, like me, are a objec' o' windictiveness to thewicious and per-werted, sir----Ha, Shrig--confound it all! exclaimed Mr. Gillespie reproachfully,What i' the name o' reason should bring you down on me at this time o'night?Business, Mr. Gillespie sir,--and Capital business at that!Capital business, Shrig----?Vith a capital C, sir.Ha, d'ye mean--Murder?As ever vas, sir.Why then, step in, man, step in and let me fasten the door ... thoughyou might ha' chosen a better time----V'ich, sir, I vould take the liberty to remark, the better the deedthe better the hour, for this here is a murder as should inter-est youoncommon, sir!Hum! quoth Mr. Gillespie dubiously; and, having shot the last bolt,led the way into his small, comfortable parlour and motioned hisvisitor to be seated. Mr. Shrig forthwith drew the second elbow-chairto the hearth, in doing which he dropped his hat, which gave forth ametallic clang.
