The Whitbury Postman.

Hawke's Bay Times, Issue 1527, 21 November 1873, Page 21

The Whitbury Postman.

A TALE OF A SUDDEN PLIGHT.

MX ROISEIiT ST. JOHN cokiikt. CHAPTER 11. THE FLIGHT. .fijiNE very cold morning in December, T old Singleton, as usual, took his postbag to his young lodger's sitting-room and laid it upon the sofa. Not finding Clara ready to receive it, he listened at her door to ascertain if she were getting up, and hearing her moving about, he left the bag and went down stairs. He busied himself some time counting his stamps, brushing the dust off timehonored notices—the majority of which referred to postal arrangements long since completed or altered—and then got his breakfast ready. It was now close upon twenty minutes past seven, the time for receiving the duly-sorted letters, so he went to the sitting-room and knocked at the halfopen door. His first knock produced no answer, his second was equally fruitless, and giving his third with more loudness than usual he walked in.

" Well, Miss Clara, I begs yer pardon," he began, but no more did he say, for Clara was nowhere to be seen ; moreover, the letters were strewn about the table, not the faintest attempt. having been made, apparently, to sort them. 'The aged postman looked astonished.

" Whatever be this ? " he exclaimed. " Where bin you, Miss Clara." Receiving no answer, he knocked at the bedroom door. No signs of Clara even there, so there was nothing to do but to conclude she was out or with her maid. The old man accordingly sorted the letters himself the best way he could, and three quarters of an hour after time set out to deliver them. He was in a cloud of astonishment the whole of the morning, for never before, since Clara had voluntarily taken office as a sorter, had she failed in the' performance of her duty. For eighteen months she had been most regular in her self-imposed work, and the whole village had benefited, inasmuch as no mistakes had arisen from Rectory letters being left at the Mill, and from Hall letters being left at the (C Sacramenta Inn." All had gone on well, which was more than, could be said of the days when John Singleton was sorter as well as carrier.

Of course, the old man made lots of mistakes this morning, and when he was gently remonstrated with he became rather angry, and insisted that the postman ought to know better than anybody else where such and such ,a letter should be delivered. He was put about and anxious to get back to the office and ascertain what had become of Clara.

In due time he had gone the whole of his rounds, but fresh trouble awaited him at home, for on re-entering the sitting-room he found the Eectory bag under a chair, and a letter for Miss Agnes Claridge marked immediate lying on the hearthrug. He had no time to make inquiries about Clara ; he must rush off at once with the rector's bag, and hurry up the Hall with the evidently important letter. Off he started, but he had hardly got to his garden-gate before he was loudly called back and implored to return. "Mr Singleton—Mr Singleton! do come back—do come back!" cried. Clara's maid. " Miss Kenton's gone; I can find her nowhere. 0, what shall I do?"

Dropping Miss Claridge's letter in the snow, old Singleton turned back, and did what he could to comfort the distracted woman. He helped her to search the house and garden, looked into odd places not big enough to hold Clara's head, much less her body, and generally made a tour of inspection, which was manifestly unlikely to end in discovery at all. Then it-occurred to him if he could possibly persuade the old nurse—for such she was called and considered—too look for her young mistress at the Hall,'he might be saved the trouble of delivering the forgotten letter. So he said, " Look you here, Mrs Godfrey, it's most likely as Miss Clara has gone up to the Hall to breakfast with Miss Agnes ; so if I was you I'd go up at once, and may happen you .•wouldn't iust mind taking up a letter with you."

Godfrey felt it would be wise to follow this advice, so off she started at once, but not with the important letter, for nowhere could old Singleton find it, though he rummaged in every pocket. As we are aware, it was now lying in the snow, and there it was likely to remain ; for after old John had delivered the Rectory bag, and been much blown up for not delivering it an hour sooner, he totally forgot the letter for Miss Claridge. Of course, the news about Clara very soon spread all over Whitbury, and when it was found that she had fled neither to the Hall nor to the Rectory the general excitement waxed greater. About an hour after everybody else had heard of it, the mysterious flight came to the ears of the parish constable; it at once flashed upon him that the pit at the back of the post-office ought to be dragged. As somebody stated, hoivover, that the piece of water in question was now all ice, and only a foot deep even after a good fall of rain, his suggestion was not carried out. His next suggestion was decidedly a better one, for he proposed to track Miss' Clara, and said her footmarks would easily be detected in the snow. Policeman Joyce accordingly walked up to the post-oflice and tracked some female footmarks out of the house through the garden and along the road up to Sir John Claridge's nearest lodge. He believed he was now on the scent, but after he had gone half a mile up the park it occurred to old John, who accompanied him, that these were Mrs Godfrey's footmarks, not Miss Kenton's. The two trackers returned crestfallen, but good news awaited them at the post-office, for Simpson, the parish clerk, said he had obtained a clue—in other words, that he had fitted one of Miss Clara's boots into a footmark, and had tracked the young runaway into the road.

'' She went out by the back way, Joyce, and made for the lane by Leader's farm. In my opinion, she must have gone to the railway station ; what think you ?" " I think with you, Simpson," replied Joyce. " Let us go to the station without loss of time."

The two men at once set off, and having found Tnrnbull, the master, stated their case, and made their enquiries. It was very little he could tell them, for it so happened that he did not book the passengers by the first train.

" I was in bed with a bad headache," he said, " and sent down to our new porter, Wycherley, to book them. He issued four tickets, lie told me, but I don't know to whom. lie is now gone with a hamper to Miss Worthington's, and won't be back before 12.50, I expect." When Simpson and Joyce got back to Whitbury village, they learned that Clara Kenton was not the only member of the community that had suddenly fled away. " Have you heard the news—the fresh news, I mean ?" asked the blacksmith.

"No; what is it?" " Why, they say that young Mr Claridge can nowhere be found—the eldest son at the Hall, you know. He did not come down to breakfast this morning, and when his servant went up to his room, he found it empty. Mr Claridge is an early riser always, and both in winter and summer takes a walk before breakfast; he almost invariably comes home at half-past eight, and then his servant takes his hot water and whatever else he wants. Well, he has not been home this morning at all; he went out early on his bay cob, and has not been seen since. What can have become of him ? "

Joyce and Simpson looked at each other, and presently old John Singleton came up and added another wise look ; then Miss Worthington's groom came up and two other men, so a considerable number of very wise looks were exchanged. "It ain't hard to read this riddle," presently observed Simpson, with a look indicating the most profound wisdom. "When a young lady and young gentleman suddenly vanish on one and the same morning, it don't require a very wise man to guess the meaning of their flight, does it ? " " Well, it looks very suspicious," said Joyce. " I've seed it all along," observed the Whitbury and Wrenchurch carrier. " I knowed months ago as Mr Claridge was sweet on Miss Kenton ; and I knowed, too, as Sir John would not hear of them keepin' company, as he wants Mr Claridge to marry Miss Bellyse, the great heiress. Mr Tomkins, the butler, told me, and Mrs Sharkey, of the ' Milverton Arms,' hinted as much." More wise looks were exchanged, and after a while one of the bystanders, a woman, remarked: " Well, Mr Simpson, I always thought that young Miss Clara Kenton was a nasty little scheming hussy ; she's been layin' a trap for Mr Claridge, and now she's gone off with him on the sly, the shameless young reprobate." " I don't believe nothin' of the kind," returned old John Singleton, " and you're a wicked 'omaii for saying such a thing." " Oh, I meant nothin', Mr Singleton, as could offend."

" Well, it is suspicious; now, isn't it, Singleton ?" put in Joyce,

" For my part, I can see no suspicions at all; it's a downright case of running away, and, as sure as my name's Simpson, those two have eloped. And all I can say is that people as can be Avickcd enough to elope arc well out of any village. I shall'waste no more breath about them." Saying which the parish clerk walked off majestically. The rest continued talking for someconsiderable time, and, with the exception of old Singleton, all were dead against Clara and young Chiridge. But the arguments of the old postman were not thrown away ; he was, a man of some influence in Whitbury, and if he took the weaker side he was pretty sure to be listened to.

" Now, what do you know against these two young folk ?" asked John. " I knows nothing but what's good o' both on 'em, and what do you know different?"

“ 'Well, it is suspicions,” Mr Singleton.

" Suspicious be bothered ! It ain't the good Tins amongst us as usually do suspicious things. Miss Clara is a young lady as I've loved ever sin' I knowed lior, and all as knows her in Whitbnry love's her just as much. Then look at Mr Clariclge : who hasn't respected him all his life, and who has ever knowed him do anythin' shabby or unkind ? Why your pronouncing a verdick without having heard what the prisoners has got to say. Be that just?" " The evidence is so strong against them, John, that we don't need to hear what they have to say. You've got some reason for sticking up for them. Miss Kenton is your lodger, and you think you'll lose her if you abuse her; and Mr Claridge gives you tobacco sometimes. You didn't use to be defending people as had done what looked Avrong." " 1 didn't use to be an old man, but I'm one now," replied John. " I shall believe no ill o' them two until they've been proved bad, and no doubt about it. Now, why can't other folk do the same ? Let us make up our minds to be what parson calls charitable; let us hold our tongues till summat more has come out, and not give a verdick until the lawyer for the prisoners has had his say. Things look bad, I admit, and a while ago I should have condemned them two all of a minute, but I've learnt better since." Old John's words were not wasted.

" Well, John, I'll wait a bit too," said the carrier; " but it is said, you know, as Mr Claridge was sweet on the young lady, and lie did a good many times look soft at her when they played croaky at the Eectory." " That may be," answered John, " but didn't you look uncommon soft at Miss Clara's Welsh pony when it first came, and didn't they say you had stolen it when it got out of the stable and was lost for two days ? Mr Claridge might look soft at Miss Clara and yet not steal her." "True, Singleton, true, yer've got the best o' that," observed Joyce, " but my dooty as a police constable is not to be satisfied o' their innocence until they be proved not guilty." And off he walked, hopefully believing that his words had made a fitting impression on all who heard them.

Old John presently parted from his friends, but not before he had made another effort or to induce them to suspend their judgment. He slurwed great wisdom in all he said, for he refrained from driving his advice into them as if with a hammer. He recollected how gently and pleasantly Clara had talked to him on one or two similar subjects, so he spoke to his friends now with a total absence of frowns, and without the least semblance to what is vulgarly called "jawing." It was not easy to induce them to suspend judgment, because the old man himself had been so notorious in the village for his hasty criticisms, but beyond doubt he succeeded to a great extent. One or two compared his old nature to his present one, and produced from the comparison this argument:—lf Postman John can refrain from hasty judgment, surely others not half so notorious as he can refrain likewise ; and being influenced by this argument, they let charitableness supplant injustice.

(To be ccmtimtcil in our nexl.J