Shortly after three o'clock struck from the bran-new brick tower of the bran-new Dukesfield church, he saw her walking briskly down the road. Even in his pre-occupation he noted her trim figure, the decided way in which she set down and lifted her feet, and the general air of alert resolution which stamped her whole being. Here was a woman of mind, of decision, of character, with few feminine failings, and more than ever Ellis wondered at her past history, as related by herself at the inquest. He began to suspect that there might be something after all in the ideas of Harry Cass. Mrs. Basket declared the woman "was a deep 'un." That also might be true.
"Good news! good news!" cried Mrs. Moxton, when she arrived. "I have seen Mr. Busham and I am right. Old Moxton made a will leaving the property to Edgar."
The widow let the gate click behind her, and walked up the path with a wrinkled brow, betokening thought. "That depends upon Edgar's will."
"I think so. In one of his good humours he made a will leaving all his property to me. I believe the will was signed and witnessed at Monte Carlo. He told me about it, but I never saw it."
"Edgar told me of it," repeated Mrs. Moxton. "It will no doubt be in his despatch-box, or in this room."
By this time the pair were again in the cheerful parlour, and her gaze was fixed upon a well-filled bookcase. "I should not wonder if it was hidden amongst the books," said Mrs. Moxton, pensively.
Ellis showed some amazement at this strange remark. "Why should he have put a valuable document amongst his books, Mrs. Moxton?"
The widow sat down and signed to Ellis to do likewise. "My dear doctor, do you know anything about drunken men?"
This was even a stranger remark than the former.
"I have come into contact with them," said Ellis, with a slight smile, "but what has that to do with this will?"
"More than you think," she retorted. "Edgar was never very sane at the best of times; but when drunk, as he often was, he took leave of his senses completely. Drunken men, as I daresay you know, have each their various idiosyncrasies which display the true animal within. Edgar's indwelling animal was a magpie."
"Oh!" The doctor seized on her meaning at once. "You believe that he concealed things!"