Delilah of the Snows. Bindloss Harold

Delilah of the Snows - Bindloss Harold


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will try to look at the thing sensibly it will save everybody trouble," he said.

      "What has become of the worthy gentlemen? Weren't they capable of walking from the 'Griffin'?" asked Esmond drily. "It really isn't very far."

      The young man did not appear to notice the jibe. "The fact is, we had a little dispute among ourselves," he said. "The views of the Committee didn't quite coincide with those of the rest, but since the Committee is not here I should like to point out that the Hoddam people have passed through the Dene without hindrance for at least twenty years, and as that gives them a legal right of way they mean to continue doing it. Now, if you will make no opposition we will promise that no damage whatever will be done to your property."

      "Don't you worry about the concerned Committee," said a voice from the crowd. "It's got the sulks. Only two turned out. We're going by what Mr. Leger says."

      Esmond glanced at the man in front of him, with a little sardonic smile. "I have only your assurance, and I'm afraid it would scarcely be wise to place more confidence in your friends than their leaders seem to have done. Their appearance is, unfortunately, against them."

      There were cries of "Stop it, Leger; you're wasting time! Tell him to get out of the way! We're coming in!"

      The young man raised his hand. "I believe they mean it, Mr. Esmond. Now, there are two sensible courses open to you. Unlock that gate and make no further opposition; or stand aside while we lift it off its hinges, and then proceed against us for trespassing. You will, if you are wise, make no attempt to prevent our getting in."

      There was a moment's silence, and the little knot of men behind the gate and the crowd outside watched each other's faces. One or two were evidently uneasy, others a trifle grim, but there was a portentous murmur from the dusty rabble farther back in the shadow. Then young Esmond laughed in an unpleasant fashion as he drew the lash of his dog-whip suggestively through his hand.

      "Whoever lays a hand upon this gate will take the consequences," he said.

      Coulthurst touched his shoulder, and said something in his ear, but the young man moved away from him impatiently.

      "Am I to be dictated to by this rabble? Let them come!" he said.

      The major made a little gesture of resignation. "Well," he said, "if you are determined to make trouble I think you will get your wish."

      Then the front of the crowd split up, and several men came out from it carrying between them what appeared to be the post to which the notice-board had been nailed. They came on at a ran, and, disregarding the major's warning, swung it like a battering ram. Next moment there was a crash. The gate rattled, but still held fast, while the lash of Esmond's dog-whip curled round one man's hand. He loosed his hold upon the post with a howl, his comrades recoiled, and there was an angry cry from the rear of the crowd, while a sod alighted squarely in the major's face. He wiped it quietly with his handkerchief, and then seizing Esmond by main force thrust him a few paces aside.

      "Go home, my men, and you have my word that the affair shall go no further," he said. "It's your last chance. We'll have a magistrate and several policemen here in a very few minutes."

      "Look out for yourself," said somebody. "We've nothing against you. Now, pick up your post, boys, and down with the thing!"

      The men with the post came on again; there was a roar from the crowd, and a crash, as the gate swung open; then as a man with a stick sprang through the gap Esmond's dog-whip came down upon his face. Next moment somebody had hurled him backwards, and the crowd rolled through the opening.

      "Back there! Look after your master, Jenkins!" the major's voice rang out, and a man dropped suddenly beneath his riding-crop.

      Then nobody knew exactly what happened, but while the sticks rose and fell Ingleby and Esmond, who had evaded the burly keeper, found themselves face to face. Esmond, who was flushed and gasping, swung the dog-whip round his head, but before he struck, Leger sprang straight at him with empty hands. Then a stick that somebody swung came down, and Esmond fell just clear of the rest, with a gash on his forehead from which there spread a crimson smear. Leger staggered forward, and the major gripped his shoulder and flung him into the arms of a keeper.

      "Hold him fast! That's the lad who did it," he said, and faced round on the crowd with hand swung up and voice ringing commandingly.

      "You have already done as much as you will care to account for," he said. "Manslaughter is a somewhat serious thing."

      The tumult ceased for a moment, and everybody saw Esmond lying very still upon the turf with the ominous smear of crimson on his blanched face. His eyes were half closed now, and they had an unpleasantly suggestive appearance. Then Ingleby stepped forward and turned to Coulthurst.

      "Nobody will interfere with you while you take him away, but the man you have was not the one who struck him down," he said. "Give him up, and we'll go back quietly."

      The Major smiled grimly. "I hope," he said, "to hand him to the police inside five minutes."

      "Look here," said somebody, "it was all Mr. Esmond's own fault, and, so to speak, an accident. Go and get a doctor for him, and let us have our man."

      There was a little hard glitter in Coulthurst's eyes. "He will find it difficult to persuade a jury of that. Stick to the lad, Jenkins, and pick Mr. Esmond up, two of you. Stand aside there, and it's possible that we will not proceed against any more of you."

      Ingleby turned to the crowd. "You're not going to let them hand him to the police for a thing he didn't do?"

      There was a rush and a scuffle, the major's riding-crop was torn from him, and groom and gardener and keeper were swept away, while Ingleby, laughing harshly, reeled into the shadow of the trees with his hand on Leger's shoulder.

      "I think," he said, "there's nothing that need keep us here."

      Then, while some of his companions pursued Esmond's retainers, and the rest stood still, uncertain what to do next, Ingleby started back through the woods towards Hoddam, dragging Leger, who seemed a trifle dazed.

      IV

      LEGER'S RESPONSIBILITY

      Leger was paler than usual, as well as breathless and very dusty, when he flung himself down in a dilapidated arm-chair in Ingleby's room. The window was open, for it was very hot, and Ingleby, who stood near it, appeared to be listening intently to the patter of feet that came up from the narrow street, until he moved forward and laid his hand upon the sash. Then Leger laughed hollowly.

      "I don't think that's necessary, and I wish you would leave it as it is just now," he said. "Considering that you live on the fourth story they're scarcely likely to come in that way."

      "I did it without thinking," said Ingleby, who turned to him a trifle flushed in face. "You're looking faint. I can get you some water – fortunately it's cheap."

      "I'll be all right in a minute or two," and Leger made a little deprecatory gesture. "I'm not sure I ever made four miles quite so fast before, and the blow I got from that fellow's dog-whip, the handle end, must have shaken me. Never mind the water."

      Ingleby sat down, a trifle limply, and, unconscious of the fact that his own clothes were badly torn, gazed at his companion. Leger's dusty disarray heightened the effect of his pallor, and his hair, dank with perspiration, lay smeared upon his forehead, while there was a big discoloured bruise upon one cheek. They had come home across the meadow and through the woodland instead of by the road, and neither of them remembered how many hedges and thickets they had scrambled through, since the one thing apparent was the advisability of escaping attention.

      "We made an excellent pace," Ingleby said. "I scarcely think that the others can have got here yet. They hadn't the same necessity for haste. Still, I'm almost afraid it was wasted energy. You see, the police wouldn't be very long in tracing us."

      "I don't suppose so. That big military-looking fellow meant to make sure of me. No doubt he'll send a groom over with our description. He seemed to recognize you, too."

      Ingleby rose abruptly and leaned against the mantel with his lips firmly set. It was several moments before he spoke again.

      "I think


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