Dr. Rumsey's Patient by L.T. Meade — Read

Hetty dragged herself wearily home -- she had waited to see the young Squire in a state of intense and rapt excitement. He had received her news with marvellous indifference. The excitement he had shown was the ordinary excitement which an outsider might feel when he received startling and unlooked for tidings. There was not a scrap of personal emotion in his manner. Was it possible that he had forgotten all about the murder which he himself had committed? Hetty was not a native of Grandcourt without knowing something of the tragedy which hung over the Court. Was it possible that the doom of the house had really overtaken Robert Awdrey? Hetty with her own eyes had seen him kill Horace Frere. Her own eyes could surely not deceive her. She rubbed them now in her bewilderment.

Yes, she had seen the murder committed. Without any doubt Awdrey was the man who had struggled with Frere. Frere had thrown him to the ground; he had risen quickly again. Once more the two men had rushed at each other like tigers eager for blood -- there had been a scuffle -- a fierce, awful wrestle. A wrestle which had been followed by a sudden leap forward on the part of the young Squire -- he had used his stick as men use bayonets in battle -- there had come a groan from Frere's lips -- he had staggered -- his body had fallen to the ground with a heavy thud -- then had followed an awful silence. Yes, Hetty had seen the whole thing. She had watched the terrible transaction from beginning to end. After he had thrown his man to the ground the Squire had struck a match, and had looked hard into the face of the dead. Hetty had seen the lurid light flash up for an instant on the Squire's face -- it had looked haggard and gray -- like the face of an old man. She had watched him as he examined the slender stick with which he had killed his foe. She observed him then creep across the Plain to a copse of young alders. She had seen him push the stick out of sight into the middle of the alders -- she had then watched him as he went quickly home. Yes, Robert Awdrey was the guilty man -- Frank Everett was innocent, as innocent as a babe. All day long Hetty's head had been in a mad whirl. She had kept her terrible knowledge to herself.