“But what a charming room! So comfortable, so tasteful!”
Mrs. Wilton swelled with pride. She would have at once detected a feigned appreciation, but this was the genuine thing. She was not one to show her feelings, but she warmed to the visitor.
They sat down, Miss Silver in the lady’s easy, and Mrs. Wilton in the gent’s ditto. Under the pink shaded gaslight she appeared as a massively built woman with a fine head of grey hair. She had on a flowered overall which allowed glimpses of a brown stuff dress. Her whole appearance was that of a person who respected herself and expected others to respect her. Miss Silver surveyed her thoughtfully. Not the woman to gossip easily, or perhaps at all. She said,
“It is very good of you to let me talk to you about Albert Miller, Mrs. Wilton.”
There was a slight perceptible stiffening.
“If it’s anything to do with his wanting the room again it isn’t a bit of good. I wouldn’t have him back, nor I wouldn’t ask my husband. We put up with it long enough-too long, if it comes to that. And I wouldn’t have done it if it hadn’t been for knowing his mother, poor thing.”
Miss Silver coughed.
“Is she alive?”
Mrs. Wilton shook her head.
“Dead these ten years. She’d a bad husband that she couldn’t stand up to not yet leave like I’d have done. And ’twas for her sake I took Albert in when he come out of the army, and put up with him when by rights I shouldn’t have done. But we’ve had too much of him, Mr. Wilton and me, and we’re not taking him back. Getting too big for his boots and talking about what a lot of money he was going to have-and where it was coming from, dear knows, for he wasn’t going to keep his job the way he was carrying on, and Millers never had anything that I heard tell about.”
“He must have been a very trying lodger.”
Mrs. Wilton looked majestic.
“Coming in all hours,” she said. “And the Worse. And no thought to wipe his boots on the mat.”
Miss Silver said, “Dear me! How extremely inconsiderate!”
“We’re not taking him back,” said Mrs. Wilton with gloomy finality.
Miss Silver coughed.
“No one could possibly expect you to do so. I can assure you that I am not here to question your decision. As I said before, he must have been a most trying inmate, but since you knew his mother and have spoken of her so kindly you would not wish any harm to come to him-would you?”
Mrs. Wilton bridled.
“I’m sure I’m not one to wish harm to come to anyone,” she said.
“Then I may tell you that I am seriously concerned about Albert Miller. It would help me very much if you would tell me just what happened on the Saturday night before he left you.”
For the moment there was no reply. Mrs. Wilton produced a rather portentous frown. She let the best part of a minute go by before she said,
“I’m not one to beat about the bush. I’m going to ask you right out what it’s got to do with you.”
Miss Silver smiled.
“I did not know Albert Miller, but I know some of his relations. I am concerned as to what may have happened to him. I should like to know his present whereabouts, and I should like to ask him a few questions. That is all. Now will you tell me about Saturday night?”
Mrs. Wilton said slowly,
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“Then it would be soon told, and you could do no harm by telling it.”
There was another frowning pause. Then Mrs. Wilton said,
“What do you want to know?”
“I should like you to tell me just what happened from the time he came home on Saturday night till the time he left on Sunday morning.”
Mrs. Wilton pursed her lips.
“Well, there’s no harm in that, and it’s soon told, as you say. He come home just before half past eleven, and he was the worse for drink, banging on the door and singing a song about that girl Eily he’s been running after-out at the Catherine-Wheel. Never heard such a noise in my life. We were in bed, but Mr. Wilton wouldn’t go to sleep till he heard him come in. He needn’t have troubled-there was enough noise to wake the dead.”
“Did Mr. Wilton go down to let him in?”
The massive head was shaken.
“We’d left the door, but after Al got upstairs Mr. Wilton went down and locked it. We were both properly fed up, and we’d made up our minds about giving him his notice. What with him coming in like that and the noise that was going on overhead, we’d had enough. Mr. Wilton called up the stair to tell him so. And the language he got back! I had to put my fingers in my ears! Mr. Wilton come back into the room and said, ‘That’s the last of him. Says I didn’t need to give him notice, because he was getting out anyhow-and getting out of the place.’ And then he went down and locked the front door and brought away the key because Al owed us a week’s money and it wouldn’t be right to let him go off without paying it.”
Miss Silver interrupted with her slight cough.
“Would there be any light in the hall, or on the stairs?”
Mrs. Wilton pursed her lips.
“We’ve lived thirty years in this house. Mr. Wilton don’t need any light to go up and down.”
“But Albert Miller-he would not know the house so well as Mr. Wilton.”
“Uses a torch!” said Mrs. Wilton contemptuously. “Nasty flickering things-I can’t abide them!”
“Did your husband see him when he went upstairs?”
Mrs. Wilton stared.
“Saw him, and heard him-shouting about this Eily, and shining his torch into Mr. Wilton’s eyes till he was pretty near blinded!”
Miss Silver coughed.
“Most inconsiderate and disagreeable.”
Mrs. Wilton achieved a magnificent toss of the head.
“And kept me awake best part of the night, bumping, and groaning, and making the bed creak.”
“Dear me!”
“And first thing in the morning down he comes and bangs on the door. Mr. Wilton calls out to him he won’t get the key till he pays up what he owes us. Al says he’s got it ready, and he won’t be coming back, and Mr. Wilton says, ‘Not much you won’t!’ So then he lights the candle and goes over to the bedroom door and opens it just enough to take the money, me being still in bed. And he counts it, and it’s all right. And Al says he’s giving the railway the sack and he’ll send for his things when he gets another job. So then Mr. Wilton gives him the key to let himself out. And that’s the last we saw of him.”
Miss Silver coughed.
“When you say saw, Mrs. Wilton-it would be quite dark in the passage?”
Mrs. Wilton nodded.
“He’d got his torch,” she said-“swinging it about like I told you. Put Mr. Wilton’s back up properly.”
“Did Mr. Wilton take the candle over to the door?”
Mrs. Wilton stared.
“He hadn’t any call to. Took the money and brought it across to me to count, and then back with the key. He’d no call to take the candle, nor to stand at the door with the draught blowing in and that nasty torch in his eyes.”
CHAPTER 32
Miss Silver sat silent in the back of the car until they had passed through Cliff. Then she leaned forward and spoke.
“Captain Taverner, would it be trespassing too much on your kindness if I were to ask you to take me up to Cliff House? I would like to speak to Inspector Abbott.”
Jeremy said, “Of course.” And then, “We had tea with Jack Challoner, you know. Abbott wasn’t there then, but of course he may have come in since.”
Frank Abbott had not come in. Matthews stood there waiting. Miss Silver addressed herself to Jeremy.
“Sir John Challoner is a friend of yours. Do you think he would allow me to use the telephone? I would rather not use the instrument at the inn.”
Jeremy went into the house and came out again with a large redheaded young man, whom he introduced. Miss Silver was inducted to the study and left there with the telephone and the only fire, whilst the others shivered in the hall and Jeremy brightened the proceedings by announcing that he and Jane were engaged.