Of High Descent Part 116

"Oh, I'm not going to be made a scapegoat!" he cried savagely; but as his eyes met hers full of piteous appeal, his whole manner changed, and he caught her hands in his.

"Yes, I will," he whispered. "I'll bear it all. It can't be for long, and I may get off. Promise me--"

He said the rest of the words with his lips close to her ear.

"Your wife?" she faltered as she shrank away and crossed to her uncle.

"No, no, no!"

There was a sharp rap on the panel, the door yielded, and Sergeant Parkins stepped in.

"Mr Pradelle, eh?" he said with a grim smile. "Glad to make your acquaintance, sir, at last. You'll come quietly?"

"Oh, yes, I'll come," said Pradelle. "I've got an answer to the charge."

"Of course you have, sir. Glad to hear it. Sorry to put a stop to your pleasant little game. Shall I?"

"There's no need," said Pradelle in answer to a meaning gesticulation toward his wrists. "I know how to behave like a gentleman."

"That's right," said the sergeant, who, with a display of delicacy hardly to have been expected in his triumph at having, as he felt, had his prognostication fulfilled, carefully abstained from even glancing at the trembling girl, who stood there with agony and despair painted on her face.

"It ain't too late yet, Miss Louie," said Pradelle, crossing towards her.

"Keep that scoundrel back, Parkins," cried Uncle Luke.

"Right, sir. Now, Mr Pradelle."

"Stop a moment, can't you?" shouted the prisoner. "Miss Louie--to save him you'll promise, and I'll be dumb. I swear I will."

Louise drew herself up as a piteous sigh escaped her breast.

"No," she said firmly, "I cannot promise that. Uncle dear, I have tried to save him to the last. I can do no more."

"No," said the old man, "you can do no more."

"Mr Pradelle," she cried, "you will not be so base?"

"Will you promise?" he cried.

"No."

"Then--here, just a minute. You, Mr Luke Vine, will you give me a word?"

"No," roared Uncle Luke. "Take him away."

"Then the sergeant here will," cried Pradelle savagely. "Look here, sit down and wait for a few minutes, and you can take Harry Vine as well."

"What do you mean?" cried the sergeant roughly.

"Only that he has gone out to raise the money for a bolt to France, and he'll be back directly. Two birds with one stone."

"Only a trick, sir," said the sergeant grimly. "Now, Mr Pradelle, hansom or four-wheeler? I give you your choice."

"Four-wheeler," said Pradelle, with a sneering laugh.

"My poor brother!" moaned Louise, as she made a clutch at the air, and then sank fainting in her uncle's arms.

"You scoundrel! to speak like that," cried Uncle Luke fiercely.

"Here, what do you mean?" said the sergeant.

"What I said. He wasn't drowned. Harry was too clever for that."

_Click--click_!

A pair of handcuffs were fastened to his wrists with marvellous celerity, and he was swung into a chair.

"I don't know whether this is a bit of gammon, Mr Pradelle," said the sergeant sharply, "but I never lose a chance."

He paid not the slightest heed to the other occupants of the room, but ran to the window, threw it open, and called to some one below, but only his last words were heard by those inside.

"Quick! first one you see, and I'll give you a shilling."

The sergeant closed the window, and crossed to Pradelle.

"If it's a trick it will do you no good. You see, to begin with, it has brought you those."

"I don't care," said Pradelle, glowering at Uncle Luke. "It will take some of the pride out of him, and I shan't go alone."

"It is a trick, sergeant. Take the scoundrel away."

"Must make sure, sir. Sorry for the lady, but she may have been deceived that horrible night, and there's more in this than I can understand. Your friend be long, sir?"

"Mr Leslie? I expected him back with you."

"Mr Leslie went on out into the street, sir. Here, I have it. He has been in hiding down your way, and came up with the lady there."

"That's it, sergeant, you're a 'cute one," said Pradelle with a laugh.

"Who has been in hiding?"

"Your nephew, sir. I see it all now. What a fool I've been."

"My nephew!--Not dead?"

"Harry--brother!" moaned Louise. "I could do no more. Ah!"

Uncle Luke fell a-trembling as he caught the half-insensible girl's hand, gazing wildly at the sergeant the while.

"Look here, Pradelle, no more nonsense. Will he come back?"