May 15, 2025 • 13 mins
When Juliet Byrne, an adopted child, finally uncovers the truth about her familys mysterious past, her father is shockingly murdered. Its up to the brilliant and eccentric Detective Gimblet, with his penchant for chocolate, to untangle the enigmatic Ashiel Mystery.
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Episode Transcript
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Speaker 1 (00:00):
Chapter sixteen of The Ashiel Mystery. This is a LibriVox recording.
All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more
information or to volunteer, please visit www dot LibriVox dot org.
Recording by Garth Komira, The Ashiel Mystery by Missus Charles Bryce,
(00:24):
chapter sixteen, with her white paint and her scarlet smokestack.
The Inverashiel, one of the two small steamers that during
the summer months plied up and down the loch and
incidentally carried on communication between Inverashiel and Crianan, was a
picturesque addition to the landscape as she approached the wooden
(00:44):
landing stage that stood half a mile below the promontory
on which the castle was built. It was the morning
of Friday, the day following the funeral, and clouds were
settling slowly down on the tops and shoulders of the hills.
In spite of the brilliant sunset of the previous evening,
the lock lay dark and still. Its surface wore an oily,
(01:05):
treacherous look. Every detail of the Inverashiel's tub like shape
was reflected and beautifully distorted in the water, which broke
in long low waves from her bows as she swerved
round to come alongside the pier. As the few passengers
who were waiting for her crossed the short gangway, a
shower burst over the lock, and in a few minutes
(01:26):
had driven everyone into the little cabin except the two
or three men who constituted the officers and crew of
the steamer. One of these was in the act of
slackening the rope by which the boat had been warped
alongside when a running, gesticulating figure appeared in the distance,
shouting to them to wait for him. Waited for accordingly
he was, and in a few minutes Gimblet, rather out
(01:49):
of breath after his run, hurried on board, and with
a word of apology and thanks to the obliging skipper,
turned like the other passengers towards the shelter of the cabin.
With his hand on the knob of the door, he
hesitated through the glass top. He had just caught sight
of a figure that seemed familiar. He had seen that
(02:10):
Tweed before. The short girl, with her back to him,
was wearing the dress in which he had seen her
on the Wednesday night. Searching among Lord Ashiel's papers in
the library at the castle. It was Julia Romaninov beyond
a doubt, and Gimblet drew back quickly and took up
his position behind the funnels on the afterdeck in spite
(02:31):
of the rain. He remained there until the boat reached Crianan,
leaning against the rail with his collar turned up and
his soft felt hat pulled down over his ears so
that little of him was visible except the tip of
his nose. His mind, always active, was busier than usual
as he watched the ripples roll away in endless succession
(02:52):
from the sides of the Inverashiel, which looked so strangely
less white on closer inspection, or followed the smooth, soaring
movements of the gulls that swooped and circled around her
as she puffed and panted her way across the black
Taciturn waters. As they drew near to Crianan, he concealed
himself still more carefully behind a pile of crates, and
(03:15):
not till Miss Romaninov had left the steamer did he
emerge from his hiding place and step warily off the boat.
The young lady was still in sight, making her way
up the steep pitch of the main street, and the
detective followed her, discreetly, loitering before shop windows as if
fascinated by the display of Scottish homespuns or samples of
(03:37):
Royal Stewart Tartan, and taking an extraordinary interest in fishing
tackle and trout flies. But though the girl looked back
more than once, the little man in the ulster, who
was so intent on picking his way between the puddles,
did not apparently provide her with any food for suspicions,
and she made no attempt to see who was so
carefully sheltered beneath the umbrella he cared. At last they
(04:01):
left the cobblestones of the little town and emerged upon
the high road, which here ran across the open moorland.
It was difficult now to continue the pursuit unobserved, and
Gimblet became absorbed in the contemplation of an enormous cairngorm,
which was masquerading as an article of personal adornment in
the window of the last outlying shop. From this position
(04:24):
not without its embarrassments, since a couple of barefooted children
came instantly to the door where they stood and stared
at him unblinkingly. He saw the Russian advancing at a
rapid pace across the moor, and look where he would
could perceive no means of keeping up with her unobserved
upon the bare side of the hill. Just as he
decided that the distance separating them had increased to an
(04:46):
extent which warranted his continuing the chase, he joyfully saw
her slacken her pace, and at the same moment a
man who must have been sitting behind a boulder beside
the road, rose to his feet out of the heather
and came forward to meet her. For ten long minutes
they stood talking, driving poor Gimblet to the desperate expedient
(05:07):
of entering the shop and demanding a closer acquaintance with
the Cairngorm. It is humiliating to relate that he recoiled
before it when it was placed in his hand, and
nearly fled again into the road. However, he pulled himself
together and held the proud proprietus, a gaunt, gray haired
woman with knitting needles ever clicking in her dexterous hands,
(05:30):
in conversation upon the theme of its unique beauties, until
the subject was exhausted to the point of collapse. Every
other minute he must stroll to the door and take
a look up and down the road. A friend, he explained,
had promised to meet him in that place, And though
the shopwoman plainly doubted his veracity and kept a sharp
eye that he did not take to his heels with
(05:51):
the cairngorm, she did not go so far as to
suggest his removing himself from the zone of temptation. At last,
when for the twentieth time he put his nose round
the door post, he saw that the pair had separated
and were walking in opposite directions, the girl continuing on
her way, while the man returned to the town. He
(06:12):
was indeed not one hundred yards off. Gimblet plunged once
more into the shop and fastened upon some pencils, with
his zeal not very convincing. After his disappointing vacillation over
the brooch, the gaunt woman cheered up. However, when he
bought the first seventeen, she offered him and the stock,
being exhausted, finished by purchasing a piece of India rubber,
(06:33):
a stylographic pen, and a penny paper of pins, which
she pressed upon him as particularly suited to his needs,
and charged him fourpence for by the time he issued
forth into the open air, his pockets full of packages.
The stranger had passed the shop and was turning the
corner of the next house to him. Now Gimblet devoted
(06:53):
his powers of shadowing. There was no great difficulty about it.
The man walked straight before him, looking neither to the
right nor to the left, And as he strode along
the wet roads, Gimblet noticed with satisfaction the long, narrow,
pointed footprints that were deeply impressed in the muddy places.
He had no doubt they were the same as those
(07:14):
he had noticed on the beach on the day of
his arrival. At Inverashield. The stranger turned into the Crianan Hotel,
which stands on the lake front, fifty yards from the
landing place of the Loch steamers. Gimblet passed the door
without pausing and went down to the lock, where he
mingled with the boatmen and loafers who congregated by the
water side. He kept, however, a strict eye on the
(07:37):
door of the hotel, and after a quarter of an hour,
saw the object of his attentions emerge with fishing rod
and basket, and crossed the road directly towards him. Gimblet
had not been able to see his face before, but
now he had a good look as he passed close
beside him. He was a tall fair man, evidently a foreigner,
but with nothing very striking about his appearance. A point
(08:00):
yellow beard hid the lower part of his face, and
for the rest his nose was short, his eyes blue
and close together, and his forehead high and narrow. He
looked closely at Gimblet as he went by, and for
a moment the eyes of the two men met, both
equally inscrutable and unflinching. Then the stranger glanced aside and
(08:20):
strode on to where a small boat lay moored. The
detective turned his back while the fair man got in
and pushed off into the lock. Gentlemen going fishing, he
remarked to a man who lounged hard upon the causeway,
he's extra fonded a fishin was the reply for a
that he's a foreign gentleman. Waiting till the boat had
(08:41):
become a distant speck on the face of the waters,
Gimblet made his way into the inn and entered into
conversation with the landlord on the pretext of engaging rooms
for a friend. The landlord was sorry, but the house
was full. If he wanted them in a fortnight's time,
he said, he could hate him the whole hotel. Oh,
but the end of the holidays were filled up. Folks
(09:04):
take their rooms a month in advance. They come here
for the fishing on the loch, and because my houses
to miss comfortably in the highlands. Indeed, I can well
believe that, Gimblet assured him. I suppose you get a
lot of tourists passing through. Though Americans, for instance, we
hardly ever have a room to take him in. Na
I seldom had Americans bitin' here. They may sely get
(09:26):
it down to the loch, said the innkeeper. I thought,
said Gimblet, that was a foreign looking man whom I
saw a little while ago coming out of the hotel.
We hear bien gentleman bay and here who belongs to
fan parents, The landlord admitted, a Polish gentleman. He is
Count Petrovsky, a very nice gentleman. I couldn't just gay
(09:46):
him a tourists. He very keen on a fishin'. He
is up here for it last year as well. He
had an own boat and is head of wet, a
trailer in effort a salmon. A great many sporting foreigners
come to our island nowadays, Gimblet roomed. Does he get
any fish? Ah, that's a gommand place for salmon, said
the innkeeper, with obvious pride in his trout, tack and pike.
(10:09):
May's the plenty, he added. Dear me, said Gimblet, just
what my friend wants. I'm sorry you can't take him in.
I must tell him to write in good time next
year if he wants a room. As he parted from
the landlord upon the doorstep of the Crianan Hotel, the
rob Roy, the second of the two Loch steamers, was
edging away from the pier under a cloud of black
(10:31):
smoke from her funnel. The rain had stopped. The passengers
were scattered on the deck and in the bows of
the vessel. The detective caught sight of Julia Romaninov's tweed
clad form. She was leaning against the rail and gazing
at a distant part of the loch, where a black
speck which might represent a rowing boat could faintly be discerned.
(10:53):
She had come back then from the moorland walk. It
was as Gimblet had expected, and though he chafed at
the delay, he regretted less than he would have otherwise
that he could not catch the rob roy. The Inverashiel
would be due on her homeward trip in a couple
of hours time, and meanwhile, he had other business that
must be attended to. He went first to the post office,
(11:15):
where he registered and posted to Scotland Yard a packet
he had brought with him. Then, after asking his way
of the sociable landlord of the hotel, he proceeded to
the police station, a single storied stone building standing at
the end of a side street. Here he made himself
known to the inspector and imparted information which made that
(11:35):
personage open his eyes considerably wider than was his custom.
If you will bring one of your men and come
with me yourself, said Gimblet at the conclusion of the interview,
I think I shall be able to convince you that
a mistake has been made. In the meantime, there will
be no harm done by a watch being kept on
the foreign gentleman, who is at this moment trolling for
(11:57):
salmon on the loch. The inspector agreed, and when the
Inverashiel started an hour later. On her voyage down the loch,
she carried the two policemen on her deck, as well
as the most notorious detective she was ever likely to
have the privilege of conveying. It was nearly three o'clock
when they landed on the Inverashiel Pier. The weather, which
(12:18):
for the last few hours had looked like clearing, had
now turned definitely to rain. Clouds had descended on the hills,
and the trees in the valleys stooped and dripped in
the saturated, mist laden air. Gimblet conducted the men to
the cottage, where Lady Ruth anxiously awaited them. If you
don't mind their staying here, he suggested to her, while
(12:40):
I go up to the castle and consult Lord Ashiel
about a magistrate. It will be most convenient on account
of the distance. By all means, said Lady Ruth, I
feel safer with them. I expect you will find Miss
Byrne up there. She has not come into lunch, and
I think she probably met Mark and went to lunch
at the castle. She ought to know better than to
(13:01):
go to lunch alone with a young man, and I'm
just wondering if she has changed her mind and accepted him.
After all, girls are kittle cattle. But I've got quite
fond of that one, and I hope she's not forgotten
poor David so soon. I really am feeling anxious about her.
I dare say she has only walked further than she intended,
(13:21):
said Gimblet. Or perhaps she came to a burn or
someplace she couldn't get over and has had to go
round a mile or two. Depend on it, that's what happened.
But I promise you that if I find her at
the castle, I will bring her back when I return.
End of Chapter sixteen. Recording by Garth Kmierra
Chapter sixteen of The Ashiel Mystery. This is a LibriVox recording.
All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more
information or to volunteer, please visit www dot LibriVox dot org.
Recording by Garth Komira, The Ashiel Mystery by Missus Charles Bryce,
(00:24):
chapter sixteen, with her white paint and her scarlet smokestack.
The Inverashiel, one of the two small steamers that during
the summer months plied up and down the loch and
incidentally carried on communication between Inverashiel and Crianan, was a
picturesque addition to the landscape as she approached the wooden
(00:44):
landing stage that stood half a mile below the promontory
on which the castle was built. It was the morning
of Friday, the day following the funeral, and clouds were
settling slowly down on the tops and shoulders of the hills.
In spite of the brilliant sunset of the previous evening,
the lock lay dark and still. Its surface wore an oily,
(01:05):
treacherous look. Every detail of the Inverashiel's tub like shape
was reflected and beautifully distorted in the water, which broke
in long low waves from her bows as she swerved
round to come alongside the pier. As the few passengers
who were waiting for her crossed the short gangway, a
shower burst over the lock, and in a few minutes
(01:26):
had driven everyone into the little cabin except the two
or three men who constituted the officers and crew of
the steamer. One of these was in the act of
slackening the rope by which the boat had been warped
alongside when a running, gesticulating figure appeared in the distance,
shouting to them to wait for him. Waited for accordingly
he was, and in a few minutes Gimblet, rather out
(01:49):
of breath after his run, hurried on board, and with
a word of apology and thanks to the obliging skipper,
turned like the other passengers towards the shelter of the cabin.
With his hand on the knob of the door, he
hesitated through the glass top. He had just caught sight
of a figure that seemed familiar. He had seen that
(02:10):
Tweed before. The short girl, with her back to him,
was wearing the dress in which he had seen her
on the Wednesday night. Searching among Lord Ashiel's papers in
the library at the castle. It was Julia Romaninov beyond
a doubt, and Gimblet drew back quickly and took up
his position behind the funnels on the afterdeck in spite
(02:31):
of the rain. He remained there until the boat reached Crianan,
leaning against the rail with his collar turned up and
his soft felt hat pulled down over his ears so
that little of him was visible except the tip of
his nose. His mind, always active, was busier than usual
as he watched the ripples roll away in endless succession
(02:52):
from the sides of the Inverashiel, which looked so strangely
less white on closer inspection, or followed the smooth, soaring
movements of the gulls that swooped and circled around her
as she puffed and panted her way across the black
Taciturn waters. As they drew near to Crianan, he concealed
himself still more carefully behind a pile of crates, and
(03:15):
not till Miss Romaninov had left the steamer did he
emerge from his hiding place and step warily off the boat.
The young lady was still in sight, making her way
up the steep pitch of the main street, and the
detective followed her, discreetly, loitering before shop windows as if
fascinated by the display of Scottish homespuns or samples of
(03:37):
Royal Stewart Tartan, and taking an extraordinary interest in fishing
tackle and trout flies. But though the girl looked back
more than once, the little man in the ulster, who
was so intent on picking his way between the puddles,
did not apparently provide her with any food for suspicions,
and she made no attempt to see who was so
carefully sheltered beneath the umbrella he cared. At last they
(04:01):
left the cobblestones of the little town and emerged upon
the high road, which here ran across the open moorland.
It was difficult now to continue the pursuit unobserved, and
Gimblet became absorbed in the contemplation of an enormous cairngorm,
which was masquerading as an article of personal adornment in
the window of the last outlying shop. From this position
(04:24):
not without its embarrassments, since a couple of barefooted children
came instantly to the door where they stood and stared
at him unblinkingly. He saw the Russian advancing at a
rapid pace across the moor, and look where he would
could perceive no means of keeping up with her unobserved
upon the bare side of the hill. Just as he
decided that the distance separating them had increased to an
(04:46):
extent which warranted his continuing the chase, he joyfully saw
her slacken her pace, and at the same moment a
man who must have been sitting behind a boulder beside
the road, rose to his feet out of the heather
and came forward to meet her. For ten long minutes
they stood talking, driving poor Gimblet to the desperate expedient
(05:07):
of entering the shop and demanding a closer acquaintance with
the Cairngorm. It is humiliating to relate that he recoiled
before it when it was placed in his hand, and
nearly fled again into the road. However, he pulled himself
together and held the proud proprietus, a gaunt, gray haired
woman with knitting needles ever clicking in her dexterous hands,
(05:30):
in conversation upon the theme of its unique beauties, until
the subject was exhausted to the point of collapse. Every
other minute he must stroll to the door and take
a look up and down the road. A friend, he explained,
had promised to meet him in that place, And though
the shopwoman plainly doubted his veracity and kept a sharp
eye that he did not take to his heels with
(05:51):
the cairngorm, she did not go so far as to
suggest his removing himself from the zone of temptation. At last,
when for the twentieth time he put his nose round
the door post, he saw that the pair had separated
and were walking in opposite directions, the girl continuing on
her way, while the man returned to the town. He
(06:12):
was indeed not one hundred yards off. Gimblet plunged once
more into the shop and fastened upon some pencils, with
his zeal not very convincing. After his disappointing vacillation over
the brooch, the gaunt woman cheered up. However, when he
bought the first seventeen, she offered him and the stock,
being exhausted, finished by purchasing a piece of India rubber,
(06:33):
a stylographic pen, and a penny paper of pins, which
she pressed upon him as particularly suited to his needs,
and charged him fourpence for by the time he issued
forth into the open air, his pockets full of packages.
The stranger had passed the shop and was turning the
corner of the next house to him. Now Gimblet devoted
(06:53):
his powers of shadowing. There was no great difficulty about it.
The man walked straight before him, looking neither to the
right nor to the left, And as he strode along
the wet roads, Gimblet noticed with satisfaction the long, narrow,
pointed footprints that were deeply impressed in the muddy places.
He had no doubt they were the same as those
(07:14):
he had noticed on the beach on the day of
his arrival. At Inverashield. The stranger turned into the Crianan Hotel,
which stands on the lake front, fifty yards from the
landing place of the Loch steamers. Gimblet passed the door
without pausing and went down to the lock, where he
mingled with the boatmen and loafers who congregated by the
water side. He kept, however, a strict eye on the
(07:37):
door of the hotel, and after a quarter of an hour,
saw the object of his attentions emerge with fishing rod
and basket, and crossed the road directly towards him. Gimblet
had not been able to see his face before, but
now he had a good look as he passed close
beside him. He was a tall fair man, evidently a foreigner,
but with nothing very striking about his appearance. A point
(08:00):
yellow beard hid the lower part of his face, and
for the rest his nose was short, his eyes blue
and close together, and his forehead high and narrow. He
looked closely at Gimblet as he went by, and for
a moment the eyes of the two men met, both
equally inscrutable and unflinching. Then the stranger glanced aside and
(08:20):
strode on to where a small boat lay moored. The
detective turned his back while the fair man got in
and pushed off into the lock. Gentlemen going fishing, he
remarked to a man who lounged hard upon the causeway,
he's extra fonded a fishin was the reply for a
that he's a foreign gentleman. Waiting till the boat had
(08:41):
become a distant speck on the face of the waters,
Gimblet made his way into the inn and entered into
conversation with the landlord on the pretext of engaging rooms
for a friend. The landlord was sorry, but the house
was full. If he wanted them in a fortnight's time,
he said, he could hate him the whole hotel. Oh,
but the end of the holidays were filled up. Folks
(09:04):
take their rooms a month in advance. They come here
for the fishing on the loch, and because my houses
to miss comfortably in the highlands. Indeed, I can well
believe that, Gimblet assured him. I suppose you get a
lot of tourists passing through. Though Americans, for instance, we
hardly ever have a room to take him in. Na
I seldom had Americans bitin' here. They may sely get
(09:26):
it down to the loch, said the innkeeper. I thought,
said Gimblet, that was a foreign looking man whom I
saw a little while ago coming out of the hotel.
We hear bien gentleman bay and here who belongs to
fan parents, The landlord admitted, a Polish gentleman. He is
Count Petrovsky, a very nice gentleman. I couldn't just gay
(09:46):
him a tourists. He very keen on a fishin'. He
is up here for it last year as well. He
had an own boat and is head of wet, a
trailer in effort a salmon. A great many sporting foreigners
come to our island nowadays, Gimblet roomed. Does he get
any fish? Ah, that's a gommand place for salmon, said
the innkeeper, with obvious pride in his trout, tack and pike.
(10:09):
May's the plenty, he added. Dear me, said Gimblet, just
what my friend wants. I'm sorry you can't take him in.
I must tell him to write in good time next
year if he wants a room. As he parted from
the landlord upon the doorstep of the Crianan Hotel, the
rob Roy, the second of the two Loch steamers, was
edging away from the pier under a cloud of black
(10:31):
smoke from her funnel. The rain had stopped. The passengers
were scattered on the deck and in the bows of
the vessel. The detective caught sight of Julia Romaninov's tweed
clad form. She was leaning against the rail and gazing
at a distant part of the loch, where a black
speck which might represent a rowing boat could faintly be discerned.
(10:53):
She had come back then from the moorland walk. It
was as Gimblet had expected, and though he chafed at
the delay, he regretted less than he would have otherwise
that he could not catch the rob roy. The Inverashiel
would be due on her homeward trip in a couple
of hours time, and meanwhile, he had other business that
must be attended to. He went first to the post office,
(11:15):
where he registered and posted to Scotland Yard a packet
he had brought with him. Then, after asking his way
of the sociable landlord of the hotel, he proceeded to
the police station, a single storied stone building standing at
the end of a side street. Here he made himself
known to the inspector and imparted information which made that
(11:35):
personage open his eyes considerably wider than was his custom.
If you will bring one of your men and come
with me yourself, said Gimblet at the conclusion of the interview,
I think I shall be able to convince you that
a mistake has been made. In the meantime, there will
be no harm done by a watch being kept on
the foreign gentleman, who is at this moment trolling for
(11:57):
salmon on the loch. The inspector agreed, and when the
Inverashiel started an hour later. On her voyage down the loch,
she carried the two policemen on her deck, as well
as the most notorious detective she was ever likely to
have the privilege of conveying. It was nearly three o'clock
when they landed on the Inverashiel Pier. The weather, which
(12:18):
for the last few hours had looked like clearing, had
now turned definitely to rain. Clouds had descended on the hills,
and the trees in the valleys stooped and dripped in
the saturated, mist laden air. Gimblet conducted the men to
the cottage, where Lady Ruth anxiously awaited them. If you
don't mind their staying here, he suggested to her, while
(12:40):
I go up to the castle and consult Lord Ashiel
about a magistrate. It will be most convenient on account
of the distance. By all means, said Lady Ruth, I
feel safer with them. I expect you will find Miss
Byrne up there. She has not come into lunch, and
I think she probably met Mark and went to lunch
at the castle. She ought to know better than to
(13:01):
go to lunch alone with a young man, and I'm
just wondering if she has changed her mind and accepted him.
After all, girls are kittle cattle. But I've got quite
fond of that one, and I hope she's not forgotten
poor David so soon. I really am feeling anxious about her.
I dare say she has only walked further than she intended,
(13:21):
said Gimblet. Or perhaps she came to a burn or
someplace she couldn't get over and has had to go
round a mile or two. Depend on it, that's what happened.
But I promise you that if I find her at
the castle, I will bring her back when I return.
End of Chapter sixteen. Recording by Garth Kmierra
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