ockhart intended to despoil Colonel Brentwood was a curiously-contrived
forgery. As men in search of the true and beautiful frequently stumble
by accident on truths for which they did not search, and beauties of
which they had formed no conception, so our detective unearthed a
considerable number of smaller crimes of which the lawyer had been
guilty--to the satisfaction of all concerned and the establishment of
Mrs Brentwood's character as a prophetess, so that "didn't I tell you
so, Jack?" became a familiar arrangement of household words in the ears
of the poor Colonel for some time afterwards.
But the man of law did not await the discharge of the thunderbolt. As
Mr Dean expressed it, he was too 'cute for that. By some occult means,
known only to legal men, he discovered what was in the air, took time by
the forelock, and retired into privacy--perhaps to the back settlements
of Peru--with all the available cash that he could righteously, or
otherwise, scrape together. By so doing, however, he delivered Colonel
Brentwood from all hindrance to the enjoyment of his rightful property,
and opened the eyes of chimney-pot Liz to the true value of shares in
the Washab and Roria railway.
A few days after the culminating of these events--for things came
rapidly to a head--Mrs Rampy of Cherub Court issued invitations for a
small tea-party. This was the more surprising that Mrs Rampy was
extremely poor, and had hitherto been economical to an extent which
deprived her of a sufficiency of food even for herself. But the
neighbours soon came to know that a line of telegraph had been recently
set up between Cherub Court and the West End, through which flowed
continuously a series of communications that were more or less
astounding and agreeable to the inhabitants. The posts of this
telegraph were invisible, the wires passed high overhead, very high, and
the particular kind of electricity used was--sympathy.
It must be explained here that it was the northern side of the court
which had been burned, so that Mrs Rampy, inhabiting the south side,
still occupied her suite of apartments--a parlour and a coal-hole. The
parlour, having once been a ware-room, was unusually large and well
adapted for a tea-party. The coal-hole, having been a mere recess, was
well adapted for puzzling the curious as to what had been the object of
its architect in contriving it.
The party was not large, but it was select. It included a washerwoman
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