Of High Descent Part 47

"Curse Mr Pradelle," he cried pa.s.sionately. "I wish I had never brought him here."

"Don't curse, dear," said Louise, with a sigh of relief. "Yes, there has been an ugly cloud over this house, but it is lifting fast, Harry dear, and we are all going to be very happy once again. Good-night."

He could not speak; something seemed to choke him; but he strained her to his heart, and ran out of the room.

"Oh!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Louise; and throwing herself into a chair, she burst into a pa.s.sion of weeping; but her tears were those of joy, and a relief to her overburdened heart.

"Is it too late?" said Harry to himself, as a cold chilly hand seemed to grasp his heart. "No; I can keep my own secret, and I will turn over a new leaf now, and old Crampton shall rule it for me. What an idiot I have been!"

He shuddered as he recalled the scene in Van Heldre's office, and involuntarily held his hands close to the landing-lamp.

"Poor old fellow!" he said, as his hand involuntarily went towards his vest; "but he'll soon get over that. He couldn't have known me in the dark. I--My locket!"

He turned like ice as he gazed down to see that the gold locket he wore at his watch-chain had been torn off.

"No, no; I lost it when I threw myself down on the shingle," he muttered, as he fingered the broken link. "I could not have lost it there."

Just then he started, for there was a faint cough on his left.

"Then he has come back," he cried hastily; and going a few steps along the pa.s.sage he tapped sharply, and entered Pradelle's room.

Volume 2, Chapter III.

THE PUNISHMENT BEGINS.

Pradelle was seated in a low chair with his head resting on his hand.

He looked up curiously at Harry as the young man hastily closed and locked the door.

"You've come at last, then," said Pradelle sourly, as he winced from the pain he was in.

"Yes, I've come at last," replied Harry. "Now, Pradelle, no nonsense!

There has been enough of this. Where is the money?"

"Where's what?"

"The money--those notes."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Then I'll tell you plainly. I want five hundred pounds in Bank of England notes, stolen by you from Mr Van Heldre's safe."

Pradelle sank back in his chair.

"I like that," he said, with a low, sneering laugh.

"No nonsense. Give me those notes."

"You mean you want to give me the notes."

"I mean what I say," cried Harry, in a low, angry voice.

"Why, you went and got them, as we agreed."

"I did not go and get them as we agreed."

"Yes, you did, for I saw you."

"How dare you, you lying cur!" cried Harry, seizing him by the throat and holding him back against the chair. "Give me the notes."

"Don't! don't! You've hurt me enough once to-night. Look! my head's bleeding now."

Harry loosened his grasp, for the fact was patent.

"I--I hurt you?"

"Yes, with that ruler. What made you hit me like that? Take me for old Van Heldre?"

Harry's jaw dropped, and he stared wildly at his companion.

"I--I hit you!" he faltered, as he struggled with his memory and asked himself whether he had stricken Pradelle down and not the old merchant.

"Well, I've got a cut two inches long and my head all swollen up. What made you do it?"

"I--do it! Here, what do you mean?"

"Mean? Why, that you were so long getting the loan--"

"Say stealing the notes. It would be more like the truth," said Harry shortly.

"I won't. I say you were so long getting the loan that I came to see what you were about, and you flew at me and knocked me down with the big ruler. Took me for a watchman, I suppose."

"But when?--where?" cried Harry excitedly.

"Where? By the safe; inner office. What a fool you were!"

"Impossible!" thought Harry, as his confusion wore off. "Look here," he cried aloud, "this is a mean, contemptible lie. You have the money; give it me, I say."

"Supposing I had it," snarled Pradelle, "what for?"

"To restore it to its owner."

"Well, seeing that I haven't got the money, I say you shall not give it back. If I had got it I'd say the same."

"You have got it. Come, no excuses."

"I tell you I haven't got a penny. You struck me down after you had taken it from the safe."

"It's a lie!" cried Harry fiercely. "I was not going to do the accursed work, and I did not strike you down."