The Road to Mandalay | Page 4

was a thorn in her side, and a true Shafto!"
But all this time Miss Jane Tebbs remains stationed at the
drawing-room window, watching the road with unwinking vigilance.
For a long while she beheld no object of special interest, but at last,
after seeing the grocer's cart, a travelling tinker, two cows and a boy go
by, her patience was handsomely rewarded. To her delight, she descried
Mrs. Billing, the doctor's wife, emerge from "Littlecote" and,
hammering on the window to attract notice, she flew down to open the
hall door.
Mrs. Billing, a stout, middle-aged lady, looked unusually hot and
flustered as she waddled through the little green gate and entered the
cottage.
"Why, my dear, you seem quite upset!" cried Jane, as she welcomed the
visitor, "come into the dining-room, and have a glass of milk."
But Mrs. Billing dismissing the proffered refreshment with a dramatic
wave of her hand, subsided upon the only chair in the narrow hall and
gasped out:
"I have just come from 'Littlecote.' Mr. Shafto is gone--he died last
night!"
CHAPTER II
WHAT HANNAH SAID
On hearing this announcement, Jane Tebbs gave a little lurch and leant
against the wall in speechless horror; and yet in her heart she had been
more than half expecting--we will not say hoping for--some tragedy.
Then she made a rush to the store-room, where Miss Mitty, invested in
a large blue apron, was methodically marking eggs.
"Sister, sister, come out!" she cried. "Mrs. Billing is here; she says Mr.

Shafto is dead; I told you that something had happened!"
"Dead!" repeated Mitty, staring blankly at her relative. Then she cast
aside her apron and hurried into the hall. "Let us all go into the
dining-room," she continued, leading the way. "What a shocking thing,
Mrs. Billing!"--turning to her visitor. "Do tell us the particulars. I can
hardly believe it! Why, I saw Mr. Shafto in Bricklands on Tuesday, and
he looked as well as he ever did in his life."
"That was the day he heard the news," announced Mrs. Billing,
selecting an arm-chair and casting off her feather boa.
"Bad news?" suggested Miss Jane.
"Very bad indeed--could not be worse. He heard he'd lost every penny
he possessed in the wide world."
"Great patience!" ejaculated Miss Tebbs; "you don't say so; but how?"
"Well, you know he was always comfortably off; indeed, one might say
rich."
"That's true! They keep five maids indoors, and a charwoman three
times a week, two men and a boy in the garden, and two men in the
stables," glibly enumerated Miss Jane. "All that is not done on small
means, and I happen to know that Mr. Shafto himself paid everything
monthly--which is more than we can say for his wife; even her bridge
losses"; here she halted on the brink of scandal.
After hesitating for a second, Mrs. Billing continued:
"Well, it appears, from what my husband can gather, that Mr. Shafto
trusted all his money and investments to a man who had managed his
affairs for years, and in whom he had the most absolute confidence; he
just drew his income regularly, lived his quiet life, and never troubled
his head about business. It seems that for a considerable time this agent
had been speculating with his clients' capital, and paying them the
interest to the day. He staved off the reckoning by every possible

device, and when he could no longer hide his wickedness, when
liabilities poured in, and proceedings were instituted, he shot himself!
Not much comfort in that for the families he has beggared. I believe he
had a splendid establishment at Hampstead; greenhouses, pictures,
motor-cars, and entertained like a prince. He squandered the handsome
fortune that was left to Mr. Shafto, and all that Mr. Shafto could be sure
of, about a hundred and fifty pounds a year, belongs to Douglas."
"Oh, my dear, never mind the money, but do tell us about poor Mr.
Shafto," urged Jane. "What was the cause of his death? Suicide? This
morning I thought I heard a shot!"
"No, no, no--heart failure," hastily interposed Mrs. Billing. "He was
always troubled with a rickety heart, and on several occasions my
husband attended him for rather dangerous fainting attacks; no doubt
that was partly the reason why he lived so quietly, just taken up with
his books, his garden, and, when he was at home, his boy. It appears
that when Mr. Shafto heard of the smash, he went straight up to
London, interviewed a lawyer, and learnt the worst. He returned in the
afternoon, very tired and excited, broke the news to his wife, and had a
serious fainting attack. My husband was sent for, but he found Mr.
Shafto sinking. He died at midnight. He himself had wired for