The Rainbow Feather by Fergus Hume — Read

From Poverty Villa, with its guilty occupant, Paul wandered through the village, into the neighbourhood of The Herne Arms. A crowd of people, more or less excited, filled the tap-room of the inn, and the space before it. Many were drinking ale at the bar, others idled outside in the street, and all were vigorously discussing the tragedy and surmising as to who was the criminal. Some hinted at Lovel, a known admirer of the dead girl; others boldly accused a nameless tramp of the crime, and declared that robbery was the motive for its committal; but no one had the courage or the fancy to hint at the possible guilt of the drunken father. Such an idea, owing to the relationship, was too monstrous to be entertained even by the most imaginative.

Paul, with unusual caution -- for ordinarily he was an impulsive man -- said nothing, but wandered from group to group, gathering opinions but offering none in exchange. There was no need for him to conjecture the name of the assassin. He knew that Dr. Lester had committed the crime, and that before twelve hours elapsed he would be arraigned on circumstantial evidence; perhaps, if his conscience proved trustworthy, on his own confession. Great as had been the horror inspired by the murder, the arrest of the wretched father of the victim would enhance that horror four-fold. Mexton knew this, but out of sheer humanity for the miserable criminal he held his peace.