"Wilkie Collins - I Say No" - читать интересную книгу автора (Collins Wilkie)

believe she secretly shrinks, poor dear, from the prospect."
"Very likely," Francine agreed--without even a pretense of sympathy. "But tell
me, who are the four old people?"
"First, Sir Jervis himself--seventy, last birthday. Next, his unmarried
sister--nearly eighty. Next, his man-servant, Mr. Rook--well past sixty. And
last, his man-servant's wife, who considers herself young, being only a little
over forty. That is the household. Mrs. Rook is coming to-day to attend Emily on
the journey to the North; and I am not at all sure that Emily will like her."
"A disagreeable woman, I suppose?"
"No--not exactly that. Rather odd and flighty. The fact is, Mrs. Rook has had
her troubles; and perhaps they have a little unsettled her. She and her husband
used to keep the village inn, close to our park: we know all about them at home.
I am sure I pity these poor people. What are you looking at, Francine?"
Feeling no sort of interest in Mr. and Mrs. Rook, Francine was studying her
schoolfellow's lovely face in search of defects. She had already discovered that
Cecilia's eyes were placed too widely apart, and that her chin wanted size and
character.
"I was admiring your complexion, dear," she answered coolly. "Well, and why do
you pity the Rooks?"
Simple Cecilia smiled, and went on with her story.
"They are obliged to go out to service in their old age, through a misfortune
for which they are in no way to blame. Their customers deserted the inn, and Mr.
Rook became bankrupt. The inn got what they call a bad name--in a very dreadful
way. There was a murder committed in the house."
"A murder?" cried Francine. "Oh, this is exciting! You provoking girl, why
didn't you tell me about it before?"
"I didn't think of it," said Cecilia placidly.
"Do go on! Were you at home when it happened?"
"I was here, at school."
"You saw the newspapers, I suppose?"
"Miss Ladd doesn't allow us to read newspapers. I did hear of it, however, in
letters from home. Not that there was much in the letters. They said it was too
horrible to be described. The poor murdered gentleman--"
Francine was unaffectedly shocked. "A gentleman!" she exclaimed. "How dreadful!"

"The poor man was a stranger in our part of the country," Cecilia resumed; "and
the police were puzzled about the motive for a murder. His pocketbook was
missing; but his watch and his rings were found on the body. I remember the
initials on his linen because they were the same as my mother's initial before
she was married--'J. B.' Really, Francine, that's all I know about it."
"Surely you know whether the murderer was discovered?"
"Oh, yes--of course I know that! The government offered a reward; and clever
people were sent from London to help the county police. Nothing came of it. The
murderer has never been discovered, from that time to this."
"When did it happen?"
"It happened in the autumn."
"The autumn of last year?"
"No! no! Nearly four years since."