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Mrs Winthorpe bowed her head in acquiescence, and with a promise that he would return later in the day the doctor departed.
d.i.c.k found, a short time after, that the news had been carried to the works at the drain, where Mr Marston was busy; and no sooner did that gentleman hear of the state of affairs than he hurried over to offer his sympathy to Mrs Winthorpe and d.i.c.k.
"I little thought that your father was to be a victim," he said to the latter as soon as they were alone. "I have been trying my hand to fix the guilt upon somebody, but so far I have failed. Come, d.i.c.k, you and I have not been very good friends lately, and I must confess that I have been disposed to think you knew something about these outrages."
"Yes, I knew you suspected me, Mr Marston."
"Not suspected you, but that you knew something about them; but I beg your pardon: I am sorry I ever thought such things; and I am sure you will forgive me, for indeed I do not think you know anything of the kind now."
d.i.c.k quite started as he gazed in Mr Marston's face, so strangely that the engineer wondered, and then felt chilled once more and stood without speaking.
Mr Marston took a step up and down for a few moments and then turned to d.i.c.k again.
"Look here, my lad," he said. "I don't like for there to be anything between us. I want to be friends with you, for I like you, Richard Winthorpe; but you keep on making yourself appear so guilty that you repel me. Speak to me, d.i.c.k, and say out downright, like a man, that you know nothing about this last affair."
d.i.c.k looked at him wildly, but remained silent.
"Come!" said Mr Marston sternly, and he fixed the lad with his eye; "there has been a dastardly outrage committed and your father nearly murdered. Tell me plainly whether you know whose hand fired the shot."
No answer.
"d.i.c.k, my good lad, I tell you once more that I do not suspect you--only that you know who was the guilty party."
Still no answer.
"It is your duty to speak, boy," cried Mr Marston angrily. "You are not afraid to speak out?"
"I--I don't know," said d.i.c.k.
"Then you confess that you do know who fired at your father?"
"I did not confess," said d.i.c.k slowly. "I cannot say. I only think I know."
"Then who was it?"
No answer.
"d.i.c.k, I command you to speak," cried Mr Marston, catching his arm and holding him tightly.
"I don't know," said d.i.c.k.
"You do know, cried Mr Marston angrily, and I will have an answer. No man's life is safe, and these proceedings must be stopped."
For answer d.i.c.k wrested himself free.
"I don't know for certain," he said determinedly, "and I'm not going to say who it is I suspect, when I may be wrong."
"But if the person suspected is innocent, he can very well prove it.
Ah, here is Tom Tallington! Come, Tom, my lad, you can help me here with your old companion."
"No," cried d.i.c.k angrily, "don't ask him."
"I shall ask him," said Mr Marston firmly. "Look here, Tom; our friend d.i.c.k here either knows or suspects who it was that fired that shot; and if he knows that, he can tell who fired the other shots, and perhaps did all the other mischief."
"Do you know, d.i.c.k?" cried Tom excitedly.
"I don't know for certain, I only suspect," said d.i.c.k sadly.
"And I want him to speak out, my lad, while he persists in trying to hide it."
"He won't," said Tom. "He thinks it is being a bit of a coward to tell tales; but he knows it is right to tell, don't you, d.i.c.k?"
"No," said the latter sternly.
"You do, now," said Tom. "Come, I say, let's know who it was. Here, shall I call father?"
"No, no," cried d.i.c.k excitedly, "and I won't say a word. I cannot. It is impossible."
"You are a strange lad, d.i.c.k Winthorpe," said the engineer, looking at them curiously.
"Oh, but he will speak, Mr Marston! I can get him to," cried Tom.
"Come, d.i.c.k, say who it was."
d.i.c.k stared at him wildly, for there was something so horrible to him in this boy trying now to make him state what would result in his father's imprisonment and death, that Tom seemed for the moment in his eyes quite an unnatural young monster at whose presence he was ready to shudder.
"How can you be so obstinate!" cried Tom. "You shall tell. Who was it?"
d.i.c.k turned from him in horror, and would have hurried away, but Mr Marston caught his arm.
"Stop a moment, d.i.c.k Winthorpe," he said. "I must have a few words with you before we part. It is plain enough that all these outrages are directed against the persons who are connected with the drainage scheme, and that their lives are in danger. Now I am one of these persons, and to gratify the petty revenge of a set of ignorant prejudiced people who cannot see the good of the work upon which we are engaged, I decline to have myself made a target. I ask you, then, who this was. Will you speak?"
d.i.c.k shook his head.
"Well, then, I am afraid you will be forced to speak. I consider it to be my duty to have these outrages investigated, and to do this I shall write up to town. The man or men who will be sent down will be of a different cla.s.s to the unfortunate constable who was watching here.
Now, come, why not speak?"
"Mr Marston!" cried d.i.c.k hoa.r.s.ely.
"Yes! Ah, that is better! Now, come, d.i.c.k; we began by being friends.
Let us be greater friends than ever, as we shall be, I am sure."
"No, no," cried d.i.c.k pa.s.sionately. "I want to be good friends, but I cannot speak to you. I don't know anything for certain, I only suspect."
"Then whom do you suspect?"
"Yes; who is it?" cried Tom angrily.
"Hold your tongue!" said d.i.c.k so fiercely that Tom shrank away.