"Lord, Mr. Werricker, sir, vat should it be but a hum-ing body--a
corpse, sir."
"Horrible!" I exclaimed. "Who is it? Where did he die?"
"Vell, sir," said Mr. Shrig, consulting a ponderous watch, "to the
best o' my judgment 'e ain't dead yet, no, not yet, I fancy, but two
hours--say three--should do 'is business neat an' comfortable; yes--in
three hours 'e should be as nice a corpse as ever you might vish to
see--if the con-clusions as I've drawed is correct. An' talkin' o'
murder, sir--"
"Ah!" I exclaimed. "Is it murder?"
"Sir," answered Mr. Shrig, "speakin' without prejudice, I answer you,
it's a-goin' to be, or I'm a frog-eatin' Frenchman, vich God forbid,
sir. An' speakin' o' murder, here's my attitood towards same--there's
murder as is murder an' there's murder as is justifiable 'omicide. If
you commits the fact for private wengeance, windictiveness or personal
gain, then 't is murder damned an' vith a werry big he-M; but if so be
you commits the fact to rid yourself or friends an' the world in
general of evil, then I 'old 't is a murder justifiable. Consequently
it will go to my 'eart to appre-'end this here murderer."
"Who is he?" I demanded.
"Ex-cuse me, sir--no! Seein' as 'ow this cove, though a murderer in
intent, ain't a murderer in fact, yet--you must ex-cuse me if I
with'old 'is name. And here's Eltham Village an' yonder's the 'Man o'
Kent' a good 'ouse v'ere I'm known, so if you'll 'old the 'oss, sir,
I'll get down and ax a question or so.
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