“I bless the day that I met Sir John Fielding, and I have any number of good reasons for doing so. First of all, I met in him one of the brightest and deepest minds in London. And through him I met the second-brightest and second-deepest mind in London-” He paused, and then, with a grand gesture-“Clarissa Roundtree!”
The entire table exploded in laughter at that-and I louder and longer than all the rest. I had, just prior, fixed a rather complacent look upon my face, one I thought suitable for accepting a grand compliment. It must indeed have been comical to see my face drop so quickly.
“And oh yes,” continued Mr. Donnelly, “it was by my friendship with Sir John that I met my lovely wife-to-be, Molly. I was not along on that fateful trip to Deal. I have often wished that I had been, for I would likely have met Albert Sarton, a man whose measure I hope to live up to. Marriage, any marriage, is a journey into the unknown. Partners often need all the help they can get. Yet from all that I have heard from Molly about Mr. Sarton, I think we may well have him as our guide and helper in the years to come. And so, all, I propose a toast. Ladies and gentlemen, to the memory of Albert Sarton.”
There was, round the table, a chorus of “Hear, hears.” We drank, and Mr. Donnelly turned to Molly before seating himself.
“Will you have something to say?” he asked.
“I will,” said she, “but I shall make it short.”
“As long as you like, my dear.”
“In our time it does not often happen to a woman that she falls in love. They write poems about it and romances-and I’m sure you’ll add to the number, Clarissa. But still, it does not happen often, as in our hearts we all know. Yet I, of all women, have been doubly blessed, for I thought my world had ended when Albert died, but no, God has given me a second love, as strong or stronger than the first. I can only thank God and his blessed angel, Gabriel. And God bless you all-and thank you a hundred times over. I offer a toast to you all, my family.”
We drank the toast, such as it was, seated ourselves once again, and then, all of a sudden, was the table all abuzz with their plans. It was a complicated matter for two Catholics to marry in a Protestant country-so complicated, indeed, that they had decided to do all that needed to be done in Ireland: the bride-to-be would meet his family; banns would be posted; and they would at last be married. The entire process would take some weeks, of course, but they felt they had little choice in the matter. They would leave for Dublin in two days’ time.
On and on we talked, for it was a joyous occasion. Sir John sent me off to the kitchen for a bottle of the French brandy. He and Mr. Donnelly each had a taste of it; yet I, knowing that I would be out early in search of Mr. Deuteronomy, declined respectfully. I explained to Sir John.
“You were unable to see him?”
“Yes sir, I waited for over an hour without result, and then left him a note promising to be back very early in the morning.”
“No one could have done more,” said Sir John. “Wait for him all day, if need be. And don’t forget, you’re still my deputy in this matter. Arm yourself before you go.”
“Yes sir,” said I.
“What, pray tell, is this about?” Mr. Donnelly inquired.
“A matter which Jeremy will clear up in no time. I have every confidence in him.”
ELEVEN
Mr. Deuteronomy had kept silent ever since we had left Bermondsey, utterly exhausted by his effort to tell all. In truth, the nature of what it was he had to tell must also have weighed heavily upon him.
He had been awake and waiting for me when I tramped up the stairs to the floor above the Haymarket Coffee House. Nor had I arrived late: I was certain, in fact, that I should have to waken him, for it was just a bit past five-thirty when I made myself known. He opened the door so swiftly when I did that it seemed to me that he must have been holding the handle when my knock came.
“Right on time,” said he to me.
“If not early.”
“Well, let’s not argue about it. Come along with me to the stable. I’ve much to tell you.”
But he would not be telling it immediately. He led me round the corner to Burnaby’s in Market Street, and there he ordered up a wagon and a team of two.
“What will we be needing the wagon for?” I asked.
“You’ll find out soon as we get under way.”
I contented myself with that, though it was not much of an answer, for in truth the night ostler, a young lad no older than I, worked so swiftly that it was but a few minutes till all was ready. We were soon moving right along in a westerly direction, following the river. It was not yet six. There were few hackneys to be seen along the way, nor were there many dray wagons. It was simply too early. The hooves of the horses echoed hollowly through the streets of the dark city. I waited for Mr. Deuteronomy to begin. It was not long before he did.
“Most of this I got from the stable boys, so I can’t vouch for it exactly, but when I got there yesterday morning, it was all just about as they said, so I’m inclined to believe them, in all the details.”
“About what?” I was growing impatient with him.
“I’d appreciate it if you’d let me tell it my way.”
“All right, as you will then.”
“Anyway,” said Deuteronomy, “it was late, getting on toward midnight, when Bennett came back from my place. It shouldn’t have taken him that long, so it’s plain he stopped off somewhere between here and there, most likely for a little Dutch courage, if I know my man Bennett.
“Now, you know how the stable and the sleeping quarters are laid out, the one is attached to the other, so there’s really only a wall between them. So what the stable boys heard through that wall was Bennett coming home. He made a good deal of noise, the way he always does when he’s had too much to drink, and this time he was heard by Lord Lamford, who came out to talk to him.
“This was unusual, very unusual. The master seldom bothered himself with what went on in the stable, and never, so far as I know, with what went on there late at night. And so, it seems to me that he must have been up and waiting on Bennett. He must have had something special to talk to him about. And I think I know what it was.”
“And what was that?” I asked.
“I’ll tell you later.”
“Tell me now.”
“Oh, all right, Lord Lamford wants to have his picture painted with Pegasus.”
I was properly puzzled by this. “And Bennett paints pictures?” That seemed unlikely.
“No, ’course not! He-” Mr. Deuteronomy fumed a bit as he sought the right words. “Let me come back to it. It makes more sense that way.”
I sighed. “Do it your way.” The man was quite impossible.
“As I was saying-and it don’t matter much what brought Lamford down to the stable-the point is, he came down, and right away the two of them started arguing. Not like he came to argue, understand, but they fell to it just minutes after he arrived. All this is according to the two stable boys who got wakened by it all.”
“What were the two of them-Lord Lamford and Bennett-arguing about?” I asked.
“The stable boys said they couldn’t tell. It was just the sound of their angry voices till they heard their master yell loud and plain at Bennett, ‘You dare to judge me?’ And it couldn’t have been much later that they heard the shot.”
“The shot?”
“That’s what I said, ain’t it?” He looked at me fiercely.
“You mean he. .” Confused, I began again. “Who was it was shot?”
“Bennett,” said he. “Shot dead, right through the head. But that ain’t the question.”
“What is the question?”