But our patience was rewarded at last. On the Wednesday following Mrs Todd’s visit, our landlady informed us that a person of the name of Eliza Dunn had called.
‘Enfin!’ cried Poirot. ‘But make her mount thenl At once. Immediately.’
Thts admonished, our landlady hurried out and returned a moment or two later, ushering in Miss Dunn. Our quarry was much as described: tall, stout, and eminently respectable.
‘I came in answer to the advertisement,’ she eXPlained. ‘I thought there must be some muddle or other, and that perhaps you didn’t know I’d already got my legacy.’
Poirot was studying her attentively. He drew forward a chair with a flourish.
‘The truth of the matter is,’ he explained, ‘that your late mistress, Mrs Todd, was much concerned about you. She feared some accident might have befallen you.’
Eliza Dunn seemed very much surprised.
‘Didn’t she get my letter then?’
‘She got no word of any kind.’ He paused, and then said per-suasively: ‘Recount to me the whole story, will you not?’
Eliza Dunn needed no encouragement. She plunged at once into a lengthy narrative.
‘I was just coming home on Wednesday night and had nearly got to the house, when a gentleman stopped me. A tall gentleman he was, with a beard and a big hat. “Miss Eliza Dunn?” he said.
“Yes,” I said. “I’ve been inquiring for you at No. 88,” he said.
“They told me I might meet you coming along here. Miss Dunn, I have come from Australia specially to find you. Do you happen to know the maiden name of your maternal grandmother?” “Jane Emmott,” I said. “Exactly,” he said. “Now, Miss Dunn, although you may never have heard of the fact, your grandmother had a great friend, Eliza Leech. This friend went to Australia where she married a very wealthy settler. Her two children died in infancy, and she inherited all her husband’s property. She died a few months ago, and by her will you inherit a house in this country and a considerable sum of money.”
‘You could have knocked me down with a feather,’ continued Miss Dunn. ‘For a minute, I was suspicious, and he must have seen it, for he smiled. “Quite right to be on your guard, Miss Dunn,” he said. “Here are my credentials.” He handed me a letter from some lawyers in Melbourne, Hurst and Crotchet, and a card. He was Mr Crotchet. “There are one or two conditions,” he said. “Our client was a little eccentric, you know. The bequest is conditional on your taking possession of the house (it is in Cumberland) before twelve o’clock tomorrow. The other condition is of no importance – it is merely a stipulation that you should not be in domestic service.” My face fell. “Oh, Mr Crotchet,” I said. “I’m a cook. Didn’t they tell you at the house?” “Dear, dear,” he said. “I had no idea of such a thing. I thought you might possibly be a companion or governess there. This is very unfortunate – very unfortunate indeed.” ‘ “Shall I have to lose all the money?” I said, anxious like. He thought for a minute or two. “There are always ways of getting round the law, Miss Dunn,” he said at last. “We lawyers know that. The way out here is for you to have left your employment this afternoon.” “But my month?” I said. “My dear Miss Dunn,” he said with a smile. “You can leave an employer any minute by forfeiting a month’s wages. Your mistress will understand in view of the circumstances. The difficulty is time! It is imperative that you should catch the x.5 from King’s Cross to the North. I can advance you ten pounds or so for the fare, and you can write a note at the station to your employer. I will take it to her myself and explain the whole circumstances.” I agreed, of course, and an hour later I was in the train, so flustered that I didn’t know whether I was on my head or my heels. Indeed by the time I got to Carlisle, I was half inclined to think the whole thing was one of those confidence tricks you read about. But I went to the address he had given me – solicitors they were, and it was all right. A nice little house, and an income of three hundred a year. These lawyers knew very little, they’d just got a letter from a gentleman in London instructing them to hand over the house to me and x5o for the first six months. Mr Crotchet sent up my things to me, but there was no word from Missus. I supposed she was angry and grudged me my bit of luck. She kept back my box too, and sent my clothes in paper parcels. But there, of course if she never had my letter, she might think it a bit cool of me.’ ?oirot had listened attentively to this long history. Now he nodded his head as though completely satisfied.