Agatha Webb | Page 7

the old man mean by saying she might have worn silk? Are
they better off than they seem?" Mr. Sutherland closed the door before
replying.
"They are rich," he declared, to the utter amazement of the other. "That
is, they were; but they may have been robbed; if so, Philemon was not
the wretch who killed her. I have been told that she kept her money in
an old-fashioned cupboard. Do you suppose they alluded to that one?"
He pointed to a door set in the wall over the fireplace, and Mr. Fenton,
perceiving a key sticking in the lock, stepped quickly across the floor
and opened it. A row of books met his eyes, but on taking them down a
couple of drawers were seen at the back.
"Are they locked?" asked Mr. Sutherland.
"One is and one is not."
"Open the one that is unlocked."
Mr. Fenton did so.
"It is empty," said he.
Mr. Sutherland cast a look toward the dead woman, and again the
perfect serenity of her countenance struck him.
"I do not know whether to regard her as the victim of her husband's
imbecility or of some vile robber's cupidity. Can you find the key to the
other drawer?"
"I will try."
"Suppose you begin, then, by looking on her person. It should be in her
pocket, if no marauder has been here."

"It is not in her pocket."
"Hanging to her neck, then, by a string?"
"No; there is a locket here, but no key. A very handsome locket, Mr.
Sutherland, with a child's lock of golden hair--"
"Never mind, we will see that later; it is the key we want just now."
"Good heavens!"
"What is it?"
"It is in her hand; the one that lies underneath."
"Ah! A point, Fenton."
"A great point."
"Stand by her, Fenton. Don't let anyone rob her of that key till the
coroner comes, and we are at liberty to take it."
"I will not leave her for an instant."
"Meanwhile, I will put back these books."
He had scarcely done so when a fresh arrival occurred. This time it was
one of the village clergymen.

IV
THE FULL DRAWER
This gentleman had some information to give. It seems that at an early
hour of this same night he had gone by this house on his way home
from the bedside of a sick parishioner. As he was passing the gate he
was run into by a man who came rushing out of the yard, in a state of
violent agitation. In this man's hand was something that glittered, and

though the encounter nearly upset them both, he had not stopped to
utter an apology, but stumbled away out of sight with a hasty but infirm
step, which showed he was neither young nor active. The minister had
failed to see his face, but noticed the ends of a long beard blowing over
his shoulder as he hurried away.
Philemon was a clean-shaven man.
Asked if he could give the time of this encounter, he replied that it was
not far from midnight, as he was in his own house by half- past twelve.
"Did you glance up at these windows in passing?" asked Mr. Fenton.
"I must have; for I now remember they were both lighted."
"Were the shades up?"
"I think not. I would have noticed it if they had been."
"How were the shades when you broke into the house this morning?"
inquired Mr. Sutherland of the constable.
"Just as they are now; we have moved nothing. The shades were both
down--one of them over an open window."
"Well, we may find this encounter of yours with this unknown man a
matter of vital importance, Mr. Crane."
"I wish I had seen his face."
"What do you think the object was you saw glittering in his hand?"
"I should not like to say; I saw it but an instant."
"Could it have been a knife or an old-fashioned dagger?"
"It might have been."
"Alas! poor Agatha! That she, who so despised money, should fall a

victim to man's cupidity! Unhappy life, unhappy death! Fenton, I shall
always mourn for Agatha Webb."
"Yet she seems to have found peace at last," observed the minister. "I
have never seen her look so contented." And leading Mr. Sutherland
aside, he whispered: "What is this you say about money? Had she, in
spite of appearances, any considerable amount? I ask, because in spite
of her humble home and simple manner of living, she always put more
on the plate than any of her neighbours. Besides which, I have from
time to time during my pastorate received anonymously certain
contributions, which, as they were always for sick or suffering
children--"
"Yes, yes; they came from her, I have no doubt