Seven
C olonel Melchett is a dapper little man with a habit of snorting suddenly and unexpected. He has red hair and ratherkeen bright blue eyes.
“Good morning, Vicar,” he said. “Nasty business, eh? Poor old Protheroe. Not that I liked him. I didn’t. Nobodydid, for that matter. Nasty bit of work for you, too. Hope it hasn’t upset your missus?”
I said Griselda had taken it very well.
“That’s lucky. Rotten thing to happen in one’s house. I must say I’m surprised at young Redding—doing it the wayhe did. No sort of consideration for anyone’s feelings.”
A wild desire to laugh came over me, but Colonel Melchett evidently saw nothing odd in the idea of a murdererbeing considerate, so I held my peace.
“I must say I was rather taken aback when I heard the fellow had marched in and given himself up,” continuedColonel Melchett, dropping on to a chair.
“How did it happen exactly?”
“Last night. About ten o’clock. Fellow rolls in, throws down a pistol, and says: ‘Here I am. I did it.’ Just like that.”
“What account does he give of the business?”
“Precious little. He was warned, of course, about making a statement. But he merely laughed. Said he came here tosee you—found Protheroe here. They had words and he shot him. Won’t say what the quarrel was about. Look here,Clement¹—just between you and me, do you know anything about it? I’ve heard rumours—about his being forbiddenthe house and all that. What was it—did he seduce² the daughter, or what? We don’t want to bring the girl into it morethan we can help for everybody’s sake. Was that the trouble?”
“No,” I said. “You can take it from me that it was something quite different, but I can’t say more at the presentjuncture.”
He nodded and rose.
“I’m glad to know. There’s a lot of talk. Too many women in this part of the world. Well, I must get along. I’ve gotto see Haydock. He was called out to some case or other, but he ought to be back by now. I don’t mind telling you I’msorry about Redding. He always struck me as a decent young chap. Perhaps they’ll think out some kind of defence forhim. Aftereffects of war, shell shock, or something. Especially if no very adequate motive³ turns up. I must be off. Liketo come along?”
I said I would like to very much, and we went out together.

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