CHAPTER IX

THE SECOND VICTIM


The alterations at Merriton Towers were certainly a success, from the
builder's point of view at any rate. White paint had helped to dispel
some of its gloominess, though there were whose who said that the whole
place was ruined thereby. However, it was certainly an improvement to be
able to have windows that opened, and to look into rooms that beckoned
you with promises of cozy inglenooks, and plenty of brilliant sunshine.

Borkins looked upon these improvements with a censorious eye. He was one
of those who believed in "lettin' things be"; to whom innovation is a
crime, and modernity nothing short of madness. To him the dignity of the
house had gone. But when it came to Nigel installing a new staff of
servants, the good Borkins literally threw up his hands and cried aloud
in anguish. He did not hold with frilled aprons, any more than he held
with woman assuming places that were not meant for them.

But if the maids annoyed Borkins, his patience reached its breaking point
when Merriton--paying a flying visit to town--returned in company with a
short, thickset person, who spoke with a harsh, cockney accent, and whom
Merriton introduced as his "batman", "Whatever that might be," said
Borkins, holding forth to Dimmock, one of the under-grooms. James Collins
soon became a necessary part of the household machinery, a little cog in
fact upon which the great wheel of tragedy was soon to turn.

Within a week he was completely at home in his new surroundings. Collins,
in fact, was the perfect "gentleman's servant" and thus he liked always