# The Lost Mr. Linthwaite/Chapter 9
### CHAPTER IX
#### THE VICAR OF ST. FRIDOLIN

The old landlord stood aside as the waiter ushered in a little, rather nervous-looking, sharp-featured, big-eyed clergyman, who glanced about as if he were not quite sure of his surroundings, and was anxious to gain some confidence in them. Catching sight of Brackett he smiled a little, taking Brixey and Gaffkin in with the tail of a watchful eye.
"Oh, good evening, Mr. Brackett!" he said "I—ah—one of these gentlemen is Mr. Brixey, I presume—the Mr. Brixey whose name appears at the foot of the poster?"
"I'm Mr. Brixey," interrupted the signatory. "Will you take a seat, Mr. Felgrave? I suppose you've brought me some news?"
Mr. Felgrave dropped into the arm-chair which Gaffkin pushed forward and glanced at the landlord.
"Well—er—" he said. "I—the fact is, yes—of a private nature. Mr. Brackett knows me, and, of course, he understands that a clergyman has to be—er—very particular, you know, about——"
"I'll leave you to yourselves, gentlemen," said Brackett.
"You've something to tell me about my uncle?" said Brixey.
"Oh, Mr. Linthwaite is your uncle?" said Mr. Felgrave. "Of course, then, you're naturally anxious about him. Now—er—before I say what I can say, do you, would you mind telling me—who is Mr. Linthwaite?"
"Well-known London man," answered Mr. Brixey. "Retired solicitor. Somewhat celebrated as an archæologist. Fellow of the Society of Antiquaries. Member of two or three other learned societies."
"I should be delighted if anything that I can tell you would relieve your anxiety," said Mr. Felgrave. "I—er—suppose that if I can give information, I should be entitled to——"
"If you can tell me anything that'll lead to the discovery of my uncle, dead or alive, you'll get a hundred pounds," answered Brixey. "And it'll be paid over with as much speed as satisfaction. That's so!"
Mr. Felgrave glanced at the door, assured himself that it was closed, and edged his chair a little nearer to the two men who confronted him from the other side of the hearthrug.
"Mr. Brackett," said Mr. Felgrave, "may have mentioned to you that I am vicar of St. Fridolin's. One of our oldest churches—the very ancient church near the North Bar. The vicarage is that old red-brick house, largely covered with ivy, near the Lame Hussar Inn.
"So, of course, we are very close to the Priory walls. The walls, as you doubtless know, are a favourite promenade, and the fact is, I have two children. One of them, Nora, is now aged five; the other, Thomas, is aged four. Now, I am a methodical sort of person. I order my day by rule, Mr. Brixey. And for some time, since my children were of companionable age, and as we do not keep, as yet, a nursery governess—mine is but a poor living—I have made a practice of taking Nora and Thomas out for an hour's walk every morning. We as a rule walk in the Priory grounds. But on Tuesday morning last—you may rely on me for exactitude in dates and times, Mr. Brixey—we walked on the walls.
"In fact, we sat down there—the corporation, some time ago, placed seats on the walls, at certain places overlooking the Priory grounds. And at between a quarter-past and half-past eleven the event took place which I am about to tell you of. Seated where I could look down into the Priory grounds, and, as a matter of fact, immediately facing the ruins of the ancient conventual church, which, you have doubtless noticed, are in a very remarkable state of preservation, I saw one who is, as I have observed, a principal parishioner of mine—Mrs. Byfield. I am not aware if you have heard of her. She is a lady of considerable means, who resides in the Minories."
"We have heard of Mrs. Byfield," said Brixey.
"Just so," remarked Mr. Felgrave. "One of the principal residents of the town. Very well. Mrs. Byfield came into the Priory grounds, and walked towards the ruins. She had scarcely reached the point I have just referred to when an elderly gentleman came hurrying after her. He caught her up, raised his hat, and spoke to her.
"There appeared to be mutual recognition, with, I should say, though, of course, I was quite a hundred yards away, some surprise on her part. I have no hesitation, having read and reread the description in your reward bill, Mr. Brixey, in saying that the gentleman was Mr. Linthwaite."
"Yes," said Brixey. "Now—what happened?"
"What occurred was this," replied Mr. Felgrave. "Mrs. Byfield and the stranger walked into the ruins, in, apparently, close and deep conversation. Of course, when they had gone in there, I could not see them any longer.
"But they had not long been removed from my sight when another person came on the scene—from the south entrance to the grounds. It appeared to me that he must have had some appointment with Mrs. Byfield, or with the stranger, for he went straight into the ruins, as if to join one or the other. The fact seemed evident."
"And he was—who?" asked Brixey.
"Not a parishioner of mine, in this case," answered Mr. Felgrave. "A person whom I often see about the town, and whom I know as a Mr. Mesham—yes, a Mr. Christopher Mesham. I have seen his full name on a subscription list. Mr. Mesham, I say, came up and walked into the ruins."
"You didn't see any meeting between him and the other two?" inquired Brixey.
"I did not," replied Mr. Felgrave. "In fact, from my point of view, that would have been a physical impossibility. The walls of the transept—the north transept—formed an impenetrable barrier. But that the three did meet I deduced from the fact that at the end of perhaps ten minutes they all emerged together."
"Aye! And what happened then?" asked Brixey.
"They parted," said Mr. Felgrave. "Mrs. Byfield went away across the grounds in the direction of a little wicket which admits to the Minories; Mr. Mesham and the stranger walked together, slowly, towards the postern gate which leads into Foxglove Lane. They passed through it. I saw them no more."
Brixey glanced at Gaffkin and Gaffkin turned to the clergyman.
"I suppose a good many of the townspeople frequent these grounds, sir?" he asked. "Did you happen to notice if there were many about that morning?"
"Nursemaids and children and a few old men," responded Mr. Felgrave.
"On the north side of the ruins, where these three could be seen?" suggested Gaffkin.
"No," replied Mr. Felgrave. "They were on the lawns and gardens on the south side. On the side between the walls and the ruins there was nobody whatever. It was quite deserted."
"Then the probability is that you were the only person who witnessed this meeting?" said Gaffkin.
"I should say that is so, emphatically," assented Mr. Felgrave. "On that side of the grounds there was no one at all."
"Have you mentioned this to either Mrs. Byfield or Mr. Mesham?" asked Gaffkin. "Privately, you know?"
Mr. Felgrave leaned forward in his chair until his lean face was close to his questioners.
"The truth is," he whispered, "I haven’t mentioned one syllable of it to a soul—not even to my wife. I haven’t said a word until now!"
Brixey took his hands out of his pockets and his pipe out of his mouth, and got up.
"Good!" he said. "Don’t. Keep it strictly to yourself. I’m much obliged to you, Mr. Felgrave. You’ve given us exceedingly valuable information which will probably lead to good results. You’ll find me here until my uncle is found or accounted for. And now you’ll excuse us, for we’ve got work to do."
He bustled the visitor out politely but quickly, and hurried back to Gaffkin.
"Come on!" he said. "We’re going to act on that—just now."
"Crabbe?" asked Gaffkin, as he picked up his hat.
"No!" answered Brixey, "The woman!"