The Mystery of a Hansom Cab
ng as when he is talking about himself; and, judging Mrs. Hableton by this statement, she was an extremely fascinating individual, as she never by any chance talked upon any other subject. Wha
had failed to save any. The late Mr. Hableton - for he had long since departed this life - had been addicted to alcohol, and at those times when he should have been earning, he was usually to be found in a drinking shanty spending his wife's earnings in "shouting" for himself and his friends. The constant drinking, and the hot Victorian climate, soon carried him off, and when Mrs. Hableton had seen him safely under the groun
ssiduously than ever. It was little consolation to her that she was but a type of many women, who, hardworking and thrifty themselves, are married to men who are nothing but an in
special delight of Mrs. Hableton. It was, her way to tie an old handkerchief round her head and to go out into the garden and dig and water her beloved flowers until, from sheer de
viciously pulling up a weed, "a-spendin' 'is, rent and a-s
s the garden, and on looking up, she saw a
shaking her trowel at the intruder. "I don't want no a
elusion that the man was a hawker, but seein
oons as belonged to my father's mother 'avin' gone down my 'usband's, throat long ago, an' I ain't 'ad money to buy more. I'm a lone p
f breath, and stood shaking her trowel
the man at the fence,
a school teacher, to answer your questions. I'm a woman as pays my rates an' taxes, and don
ted the man, in a satisfied to
eyes twinkled like two stars. He was, well-dressed in a suit of light clothes, and wore a stiffly-starched white waistcoat, with a massive gold chain
nt?" she ask
hyte live here?" a
like the rest of 'em, but I've put sumthin' in the paper as 'ill pull him up pretty sharp, and let 'im know I ain't a carpet to be trod
tburst, and Mrs. Hableton, having stopped
to you for a
bleton, defiantly. "Go on with you, not as
ess blue sky, and wiping his face with a gaudy red silk
time to finish, but walking to
med to overflow with antimacassars, wool mats, and wax flowers. There were also a row of emu eggs on the mantelpiece, a cutlass on the wall, and a gr
pushed towards him; he could not help thinking it had been stuffed with stones, it felt so cold and hard. The lady herself sat opposite to him in anothe
t it gave one the impression that it was moved by strings like
rchief into his hat, placed it on th
am a detective. I w
, thinking that Whyte had got into
t," answere
where
ruptly, and watched t
is d
ed back her chair. "No," she crie
him?" queried Mr
intended to say, for, recovering herself wi
r killed
enly, and she returned his
thing more than she chooses to tell, but I'll get it out
sing from her seat, went over to a hard and shiny-looking sideboard, from whence she took a bottle
yes fixed curiously on her, "but you 'ave given me such a turn that I
aid Mr. Gorby, keeping hi
. Whyte kille
n a hansom cab on
et?" she asked in
the ope
w that she was deliberating whether or not to speak, and a word from him might seal her
sband, who was a brute and a drunkard, so, God knows, I ain't got much inducement to think well of the lo
ection w
ourse," she answ
who e
n't k
re is nob
't know - I'
ctive wa
you mean?
said Mrs. Hableton, "an' if 'e
is inn
he start," said Mrs. Hableton, "
ssented, an
o, bein' a lone woman, 'avin' bin badly treated by a brute, who is now dead, which I was allays a good wife to 'im, I th
was he
no whiskers nor moustache
peculiar a
on thought
on his left temple, but it was covered with
Gorby to himself, "I'
just come from Englan
"accounts for the corpse not
nt in advance, an' 'e allays paid up reg'ler like a respectable man, tho' I don't b
re his
nowd where 'e went, which is jest like 'em; for they ses they're goin' to work, an' you
cted Mr. Gorb
a Mr. Moreland - who comed 'ere with 'm,
is Mr. More
ly, "but 'is 'abits weren't as good as 'is fac
s affair," thought Gorby to himself "Whe
landlady, "'e used to be 'ere reg'lar,
ad. "I should like to see this Mr. Moreland
ll," answered the woman, "'e might call a
ective. "Coincidences happen in real life as well as in novels, and the gentlem
'in which, a gentleman called to see Mr. Why
morning
ess, and wore a light coa
the detective below
e way with men, the brutes. I got up and went into the passage in order to ask 'em not to make such a noise, when Mr. Whyte's door opens, an' the gentleman in the light coat comes out, and bangs along to the door. Mr. Whyte
by, drawing a long
sy since, an' I ain't got no money to get it put rig
ke any rem
d been worried
as the stra
er told me. He was very tall, with a fai
y was sa
o the hansom cab, and murdered Whyte; there's no do
f it?" said Mrs.
s fixed on her, "I think that there is a woman