Jane and the Wandering Eye Read Online Free PDF Page B

Wilborough household should be as gold. My thoughts were suddenly diverted, however, by Anne Lefroy’s seeking a chair, her pallor extreme. Madam can never rely upon a physical courage in the face of blood, and I feared she should faint.
Where
were Henry and Eliza? A swift glance for a tower of birds’ nests and ship models—and I waved my sister to my side.
    “Do you look to Madam Lefroy,” I enjoined, “while I attend to the murder.”
    “But of course.” Eliza was all efficiency. “Henry! A glass of water, if you please—or better yet, brandy! And quickly!”
    I returned to the anteroom doorway, and there found the Knight in the midst of an outburst.
    “But do observe the open window! I assure you, whoever committed this dreadful deed has jumped to the paving below! Quickly, Jenkins—to the street, or he shall escape us entirely!”
    The man Jenkins hesitated, bewildered, and glanced to the Dowager Duchess.
    “Go, go—and take Samuel with you!” she urged him. The footman dashed for the stairs.
    The massive Moor, his face blackened with burnt cork and his turban formed of a lady’s cashmere shawl, pushed his way to the fore of the pitiful scene.
    “My name is Gibbs,” he said, “and I have the honour to act as Her Grace’s physician. I must be permitted to examine the gentleman.”
    “It is Mr. Richard Portal,” Maria Conyngham told the doctor. She was weeping still, but struggled for composure. “He is our company’s manager. Your physick will avail him nothing, however. The knife blade found his heart.”
    “Hush now, Maria,” her brother said, and drew her to his bosom.
    Dr. Gibbs dismissed the pair with a glance and bent to the unfortunate Portal. He felt of his wrists and neck, then laid an ear to the blood-soaked breast. And at last, with surprising gentleness, the physician removed the black velvet mask.
    All evidence of the Harlequin’s former gaiety was fled. The expression of agonised horror that still gripped his countenance was distressing in the extreme. Richard Portal was revealed as a not unattractive gentleman, but well past his first youth; his brown hair was touched withgrey, and his complexion reddened by exposure or drink. Dr. Gibbs closed the staring eyes, and arranged the lifeless limbs in an attitude of dignity; and then he turned to look at the Dowager.
    Eugenie was huddled on a blue and gold settee. Lady Desdemona stood at her side.
    “A constable should be summoned, Your Grace,” Dr. Gibbs said quietly. “Elliot, the magistrate, is to be preferred, of course—but at this hour—”
    As though conjured by his words, a bronze clock on the mantel began to chime. It had just gone two.
    “I did not kill him, Gibbs,” the Knight burst out, straining in his captors’ grip. “You must believe me! I did not do this thing!”
    “Be quiet, Simon.” The Dowager Duchess’s voice was weary. “You must save your words for the magistrate, my dear.” Gripping the knobbed head of her cane, she rose a trifle unsteadily, patted Lady Desdemona’s hand, and progressed towards the doorway. Her gaze she kept studiously averted from the dead man on the carpet. The hushed crowd of guests parted like a tide to permit her passage, then closed again around her.
    “Your Grace,” Dr. Gibbs called after Eugenie in a commanding voice. “Your Grace, I must beg your indulgence. Would you have the body removed?”
    The Duchess halted in her stride, but did not turn. “Leave him, Gibbs,” she replied. “Mr. Elliot will wish to view everything precisely as it was found. Later we may consider what is due to Mr. Portal—but for the nonce, I must summon the constables and despatch a letter to the magistrate’s residence. Are you acquainted with the direction?”
    “I am, Your Grace,” Dr. Gibbs replied. “Mr. Elliot resides in Rivers Street.”
    “Very well. I shall write to him directly. But I must begthat no one depart this house until the constable or Mr. Elliot arrive.”
    The doors