r: she was a stout woman, was our dear, deceased Bridget--and,
though a good kind soul, lived much on meat and beer: ah well, ah well!"
And he concealed his sentimental hypocrisy in a cotton pocket-handkerchief.

"Alas, and well-a-day! that it should have come to this. Apoplexy--you
see, apoplexy caught her as she slept: we may as well get her buried at
once: it is unfortunately too clear a case for any necessity to open the
body; and our young master is coming down on Tuesday, and I could not
allow my aunt's corpse to be so disrespectful as to stop till it became
offensive. I will go to the vicar myself immediately."

"Begging pardon, Mr. Jennings," urged Jonathan Floyd, "there's a strange
mark here about the throat, poor old 'ooman."

"Ay," added Sarah, "and now I come to think of it, Mrs. Quarles's
room-door was ajar; and bless me, the lawn-door's not locked neither!
Who could have murdered her?"

"Murdered? there's no murder here, silly wench," said Jennings, with a
nervous sneer.

"I don't know that, Mr. Simon," gruffly interposed the coachman; "it's a
case for a coroner, I'll be bail; so here I goes to bring him: let all
bide as it is, fellow-sarvents; murder will out, they say."

And off he set directly--not without a shrewd remark from Mr. Jennings,
about letting him escape that way; which seemed all very sage and
likely, till the honest man came back within the hour, and a _posse
comitatus_ at his heels.

We all know the issue of that inquest.

Now, if any one requests to be informed how Jennings came to be looked
for as usual in his room, after that unavailing search last night, I
reply, this newer, stronger excitement for the minute made the house
oblivious of that mystery; and if people further will persist to know,
how that mystery of his absence was afterwards explained (though I for
my part would gladly have said nothing of the bailiff's own excuse), let
it be enough to hint, that Jennings winked with a knowing and gallant
expression of face; alluded to his private key, and a secret return at
two in the morning from some disreputable society in the neighbourhood;
made the men laugh, and the women blush; and, altogether, as he might
well have other hats and coats, the delicate affair was not unlikely.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

DOUBTS.

AND so, this crock of gold--gained through extortion, by the
frauds of every day, the meannesses of every hour--this concrete
oppression to the hireling in his w