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Much of this decayed and sombre look was attributable； no
doubt； to the death of its former master； and the temper of its
present occupant； but remembering the tale connected with the
mansion； it seemed the very place for such a deed； and one that
might have been its predestined theatre years upon years ago。
Viewed with reference to this legend； the sheet of water where the
steward’s body had been found appeared to wear a black and
sullen character； such as no other pool might own； the bell upon
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the roof that had told the tale of murder to the midnight wind；
became a very phantom whose voice would raise the listener’s hair
on end； and every leafless bough that nodded to another； had its
stealthy whispering of the crime。
Joe paced up and down the path； sometimes stopping in
affected contemplation of the building or the prospect； sometimes
leaning against a tree with an assumed air of idleness and
indifference； but always keeping an eye upon the window he had
singled out at first。 After some quarter of an hour’s delay； a small
white hand was waved to him for an instant from this casement；
and the young man； with a respectful bow； departed； saying under
his breath as he crossed his horse again； ‘No errand for me to…day！’
But the air of smartness； the cock of the hat to which John
Willet had objected； and the spring nosegay； all betokened some
little errand of his own； having a more interesting object than a
vintner or even a locksmith。 So； indeed； it turned out； for when he
had settled with the vintner—whose place of business was down in
some deep cellars hard by Thames Street； and who was as purple…
faced an old gentleman as if he had all his life supported their
arched roof on his head—when he had settled the account； and
taken the receipt； and declined tasting more than three glasses of
old sherry； to the unbounded astonishment of the purple…faced
vintner； who； gimlet in hand； had projected an attack upon at least
a score of dusty casks； and who stood transfixed； or morally
gimleted as it were； to his own wall—when he had done all this；
and disposed besides of a frugal dinner at the Black Lion in
Whitechapel； spurning the Monument and John’s advice； he
turned his steps towards the locksmith’s house； attracted by the
eyes of blooming Dolly Varden。
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Joe was by no means a sheepish fellow； but； for all that； when
he got to the corner of the street in which the locksmith lived； he
could by no means make up his mind to walk straight to the house。
First； he resolved to stroll up another street for five minutes； then
up another street for five minutes more； and so on until he had lost
full half an hour； when he made a bold plunge and found himself
with a red face and a beating heart in the smoky workshop。
‘Joe Willet； or his ghost？’ said Varden； rising from the desk at
which he was busy with his books； and looking at him under his
spectacles。 ‘Which is it？ Joe in the flesh； eh？ That’s hearty。 And
how are all the Chigwell company； Joe？’
‘Much as usual； sir—they and I agree as well as ever。’
‘Well； well！’ said the locksmith。 ‘We must be patient； Joe； and
bear with old folks’ foibles。 How’s the mare； Joe？ Does she do the
four miles an hour as easily as ever？ Ha； ha； ha！ Does she； Joe？
Eh！—What have we there； Joe—a nosegay！’
‘A very poor one； sir—I thought Miss Dolly—’
‘No； no；’ said Gabriel； dropping his voice； and shaking his head；
‘not Dolly。 Give ’em to her mother； Joe。 A great deal better give
’em to her mother。 Would you mind giving ’em to Mrs Varden；
Joe？’
‘Oh no； sir；’ Joe replied； and endeavouring； but not with the
greatest possible success； to hide his disappointment。 ‘I shall be
very glad； I’m sure。’
‘That’s right；’ said the locksmith； patting him on the back。 ‘It
don’t matter who has ’em； Joe？’
‘Not a bit； sir。’—Dear heart； how the words stuck in his throat！
‘Come in；’ said Gabriel。 ‘I have just been called to tea。 She’s in
the parlour。’
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‘She；’ thought Joe。 ‘Which of ’em I wonder—Mrs or Miss？’ The
locksmith settled the doubt as neatly as if it had been expressed
aloud； by leading him to the door； and saying； ‘Martha； my dear；
here’s young Mr Willet。’
Now； Mrs Varden； regarding the Maypole as a sort of human
mantrap； or decoy for husbands； viewing its proprietor； and all
who aided and abetted him； in the light of so many poachers
among Christian men； and believing； moreover； that the publicans
coupled with sinners in Holy Writ were veritable licensed
victuallers； was far from being favourably disposed towards her
visitor。 Wherefore she was taken faint directly； and being duly
presented with the crocuses and snowdrops； divined on further
consideration that they were the occasion of the languor which
had seized upon her spirits。 ‘I’m afraid I couldn’t bear the room
another minute；’ said the good lady； ‘if they remained here。 Would
you excuse my putting them out of window？’
Joe begged she wouldn’t mention it on any account； and smiled
feebly as he saw them deposited on the sill outside。 If anybody
could have known the pains he had taken to make up that
despised and misused bunch of flowers！—
‘I feel it quite a relief to get rid of them； I assure you；’ said Mrs
Varden。 ‘I’m better already。’ And indeed she did appear to have