Sawn Off Part 43

As he spoke, he gave his brother a push into the bedroom, and then faced round with clenched fists.

For a moment the men were paralysed, but the next they flung themselves on Tom.

Gilderoy was nearest, and a blow sent him rolling over; but the constable evaded a second blow, and closed in a fierce struggle, which, taking place at the doorway, prevented the next man from forcing his way through.

Mrs Shingle shrieked; but Jessie stood firm, gazing with dilating eyes at her lover, as he wrestled bravely with the policeman, whom he kept between himself and the second man, still covering his brother's flight.

They were well matched, and victory might have been on Tom's side but for the action of d.i.c.k, who, seeing the second man about to leap on him, thrust out his foot and laid him sprawling.

It was unfortunate for Tom, though. The man was so near that he tripped over him, and lay for the moment half-stunned; while now all three rushed into the room and to the open window.

"Below there!" cried Gilderoy--"have you seen him?"

"No," was the reply. "He came down with a crash, though, into the shrubs here, and I think he's hurt--he hasn't moved since. Come down, and bring a light."

Jessie's window looked down upon a great clump of lilacs, into which it seemed that Fred must have jumped; and, running back to the landing, the three men dashed downstairs, through d.i.c.k's study, into the conservatory, and thence to the enclosed back garden.

As they did so, Fred glided out from behind the window curtains, placed his hand to his lips, and bounded down the staircase, almost into his brother's arms.

Tom saw the ruse, seized a coat and hat from the stand, and opened the front door.

"Cabstand at the corner," he whispered. "Walk--don't run."

Fred went leisurely out, and as Tom closed the door the private inquiry man came back, and placed himself as sentinel to guard the door.

The search went on for a few moments outside, and then there was a shout.

"They've got him," cried the sentry eagerly. "Got him?" he shouted.

"No," cried the constable, running into the hall, hot and panting. "He threw a great ottoman out of the window, and didn't jump. Keep that door; we must search the house."

The search began, and it was not until every nook and corner had been hunted over that the men stood looking at one another in the hall.

"A pretty mess you've made of this, Mr Gilderoy!" cried the constable, at last.

"Two-fifty thrown into the gutter by your bad management," groaned the other.

"P'r'aps you'd better go and search all London now," said Hopper, with a sneer, "for he can't be far off."

The men turned upon him angrily.

"We haven't done yet," said the constable. "We must have some one for this. The law can't be resisted for nothing."

"I'm ready to give up," said Tom quietly.

"You'll do nothing of the kind," cried Hopper, hastily pushing him away.

"Here, you there! don't be fools. Come in here. The man's gone--off by the front door. What have you got to say to that?"

"I must have some one," said the constable surlily.

"Hey? Have some one?" cried Hopper. "Then have me."

They followed the old fellow into the dining-room, where a little private inquiry went on; and the result was that soon after they left the house, evidently having forgotten to call Tom's behaviour into question; while, as for Max, he had not been seen to go, which d.i.c.k said was a blessing in disguise, as the encounter might have been painful.

VOLUME TWO, CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

JESSIE'S MALADY.

"`I cannot forgive myself,'" wrote Tom to Richard Shingle--and the latter read the note aloud--"`I feel, uncle, that I have wronged her twice in thought most cruelly, and that I dare not hope for her forgiveness till time has enabled me to prove myself more worthy of her--'"

"Read more loudly, and don't mumble," said Hopper, who was present.

"`Tell her, uncle, that I love her dearly--more dearly than ever; and some day, if she has not made another choice, I may come and ask you all, humbly, if you can forget the past, ignore the misfortunes of my family, and give me room to hope that there is a happy future where at present all looks black.'"

"I've read that ten times over," said d.i.c.k, "and hang me if I know what it means. It's too fine and sentimental for me. Why, if he was half the man I took him for, he'd come down here and say, `Uncle, blood's thicker than water: shall we cry "wiped out" to all that's gone by?-- because, if so, 'ere's my 'art and 'ere's my 'and.'"

"Hey?"

"'Ere's my 'art and 'ere's my 'and," roared d.i.c.k.

"And what should you say to that?" chuckled Hopper.

"I should say, `Tom, my lad, I don't want your 'art, and I don't want your 'and, for I've got a 'art as is, I hope, a warm one, and I've got a 'and to offer to the man I can believe in and trust. Take yours somewheres else, and offer 'em where they may be taken.'"

d.i.c.k winked at his friend, and jerked his thumb over his shoulder, where, seen dimly in the farther room, were Jessie and Mrs Shingle-- d.i.c.k having taken a house at Hastings, and gone down for change, he said, but really on account of the weak state of Jessie's health; and now he and his friend were having a pipe together in the inner room.

"He's too c.o.c.ky," said Hopper: "he's as proud as Lucifer. He won't come and ask till he's made money, and can be independent."

"That's where he's such a fool," said d.i.c.k. "Of course I'm not going to say `Come down and marry my gal,' who's dying to have him; but he can have her when he likes; and as to money, why, there's enough for all."

"Tom won't want for money," said Hopper, blowing out a great cloud.

"Oh, won't he?" said d.i.c.k. "Well, a good job too. What's become of Fred?"

"Married that violent girl, who was dead on him, and went and joined him as soon as she knew he was in trouble."

"Did she, though?" said d.i.c.k. "Well, 'ang me if I ever liked her, with her twissened eyes, till now; but that was a good one. Hopper, Max spent all that poor gal's money, which was hard on her. Could you get to let her have a hundred pounds if I give you a cheque? You can come those dodges of sending money on the sly most artfully."

Hopper chuckled as d.i.c.k poked him in the side with his pipe-stem. "No, no, no, d.i.c.k, they are in America by now; and Fred will be better without money. Make him work."

He began to refill his pipe as he spoke.

"I never could make out how it was he got off so easily to America. The police wasn't half sharp; but it was a good job. How about the extra tradition, as they called it?"

"Hey? Extradition?" said Hopper. "Ha! there was a reason for that."

He opened his pocket-book, took out a slip of blue paper, folded it, and, striking a match, lit the paper and held it to his pipe.