Read Online Let Him Lie by Ianthe Jerrold - Free Book Online

window-seat yesterday afternoon. Seeing that he went home so unexpectedly, I mean, and wasn’t here to answer questions himself.”
    Miss Wills took up a chrysanthemum and slowly, as though she were cutting a living thing and rather enjoyed it, cut its stalk before sticking it in a tall vase.
    â€œIt was your duty, I suppose,” said Jeanie slowly, “to tell the superintendent everything.”
    â€œEverything? Oh! I didn’t know that! I’m afraid I didn’t tell him quite everything.”
    Was this irony? Jeanie glanced at her companion, but could read nothing from the light that glittered on those large horn-rimmed lenses.
    â€œI mean, I didn’t tell the superintendent about the letter Mr. Molyneux had the day before yesterday from Mr. Fone. Perhaps I ought to have done. Do you think so, Miss Halliday?”
    â€œNo, I don’t think so,” replied Jeanie guardedly. “Only if he asks you. The police’ll go through letters and things for themselves, won’t they?”
    â€œThey won’t find this one. Mr. Molyneux was so much annoyed he threw it in the fire. I wonder whether I ought to mention it. You see, I’ve been acting as Mr. Molyneux’s secretary since Mr. Johnson went.”
    â€œThen I expect the police will ask you if you had any threatening letters.”
    â€œWell, you would call it a threatening letter—wouldn’t you?—when a person says the wrath of the old gods will fall on your presumption and their heavy feet will crush your flimsy scientific superstitions. Or wouldn’t you?” 
    â€œDid Mr. Fone really say that?”
    â€œYes, and a lot more. He’s quite crazy in some ways. Especially on the subject of opening the tumulus. A more extraordinary letter I never read.”
    â€œOh well, he’s a poet, so I suppose he’s allowed these peculiar feelings about tombs and things,” said Jeanie placably. “I rather like him.”
    â€œThere’s certainly no accounting for tastes,” said Miss Wills acidly, cutting viciously at a flower stalk.
    â€œHe’s a clever man in his way, surely.”
    â€œGreat wits to madness sure are near allied, and thin partitions do their bounds divide,” said Miss Wills grimly.
    â€œOh well, as long as they have bounds, and are divided! Besides, Mr. Fone isn’t the only person in this place with feelings about opening the tumulus. Mrs. Barchard’s hair was standing on end at the idea, too.”
    â€œOh, village people!” said Tamsin, with a disfiguring sneer.
    â€œAnyway, I suppose the tumulus isn’t likely to be opened now?”
    â€œNot unless the Field Club find the money for it, which isn’t at all likely. It was going to be an expensive business, you know. Agnes certainly won’t want to spend anything on it, with death duties and everything. She doesn’t care for that sort of thing, anyway.”
    â€œThe opening hadn’t actually been arranged, then?”
    â€œNo. The Office of Works had just given permission for it to be done.”
    â€œThe Office of Works! I thought the tumulus was on Cleedons land!”
    Miss Wills sneered again.
    â€œIt is, but it’s scheduled as an ancient monument. In these glorious days a man can’t do as he likes with his own land—did you think he could? Oh, the dear old villagers will have their way, and old Grim will sleep in peace. Perhaps it was Grim who was responsible for Mr. Molyneux’s death!”
    â€œWell, I’ve heard that theory uttered only this morning.”
    â€œAfter all, one has to dislike a man a good deal to shoot him,” went on Tamsin languidly, stuffing another flower into the vase. “And as far as I know, nobody had any cause to dislike Mr. Molyneux. Except old Grim. Oh, and of course old Grim’s arch-priest, Mr. Fone.” “He was popular, then, was he?”
    â€œOh, very !” answered Tamsin,