groups at every corner, and little knots of folk at doors, and men
in twos and threes on the pavement, and it needed no particular
stretching of his ears to inform him that everybody was talking of the
murder of his cousin. He caught fragmentary bits of surmise and comment
as he walked along; near a shadowy corner of the great church he
purposely paused, pretending to tie his shoe-lace, in order to overhear
a conversation between three or four men who had just emerged from the
door of an adjacent tavern, and were talking in loud, somewhat excited
tones: working men, these, whose speech was in the vernacular.

"You can bet your life 'at this job's been done by them whose little
game Wallingford were going to checkmate!" declared one man. "I've allus
said 'at he were running a rare old risk. We know what t' old saying is
about new brooms sweeping clean--all very well, is that, but ye can
smash a new broom if ye use it over vigorously. Wallingford were going
a bit too deeply into t' abuses o' this town--an' he's paid t' penalty.
Put out o' t' way--that's t' truth on it!"

"Happen it may be," said a second man. "And happen not. There's no
denying 'at t' Mayor were what they call a man o' mystery. A mysterious
chap, d'ye see, in his comings and goings. Ye don't know 'at he mayn't
ha' had secret enemies; after all, he were nowt but a stranger i' t'
town--nobbut been here twelve year or so. How do we know owt about him?
It may be summat to do wi' t' past, this here affair. I'm none going t'
believe 'at there's anybody i' Hathelsborough 'ud stick a knife into him
just because he were cleaning up t' town money affairs, like."

"Never ye mind!" asserted the former speaker. "He were going to touch t'
pockets o' some on 'em, pretty considerable, were t' Mayor. And ye know
what Hathelsborough folk is when their pockets is touched--they'll stick
at nowt! He's been put away, has Wallingford, 'cause he were interfering
over much."

Brent walked on, reflecting. His own opinions coincided, uncomfortably
but decidedly, with those of the last speaker, and a rapidly-growing
feeling of indignation and desire for vengeance welled up within him. He
looked round at the dark-walled, closely shuttered old houses about him
with a sense of dull anger--surely they were typical of the reserve, the
cunning watchfulness, the suggestive silences of the folk who lived in
them, of whom he had just left three excellent specimens in Crood,
Mallett and C