Part 115 (1/2)
”Police?” he said. ”What do you mean?”
”What a man does mean, you scoundrel, when he talks about them--to give you into custody.”
”It is not a criminal offence to elope with a lady,” said Pradelle, with a malicious look at Leslie, who stood before the door with his hands clenched.
”Uncle!” cried Louise, whose pale face now flamed up as she glanced at Leslie, and saw that he avoided her eyes.
”You wait,” he said. ”I'll finish with this fellow first, and end by taking you home.”
”But, uncle, let me explain.”
”You'll hold your tongue!” cried Pradelle sharply. ”Think what you are going to do.”
”Yes, she can hold her tongue,” cried Uncle Luke, ”while I settle our little business, sir. Let me see. Ah! I was always sure of that.”
Pradelle had thrust himself forward offensively, and in a threatening manner so near that the old man had only to dart out one hand to seize him by the throat; and quick as lightning had drawn an old gold ring from the scarf the young man wore.
”What are you doing?” roared Pradelle, clenching his fist.
”Taking possession of my own. Look here, Leslie, my old signet-ring that scoundrel took from a nail over my chimney-piece.”
”It's a lie, it's--”
”My crest, and enough by itself to justify the police being called up.”
”A trick, a trumped-up charge,” cried Pradelle.
”You must prove that at the same time you clear yourself of robbing Van Heldre.”
”I--I rob Van Heldre! I swear I never had a s.h.i.+lling of his money.”
”You were not coming away when I knocked you down with old Crampton's ruler, eh?”
Pradelle shrank from the upraised stick, and with an involuntary movement clapped his hand to his head.
”See that, Leslie!” cried the old man with a sneering laugh. ”Yes, that was the place. I hit as hard as I could.”
”A trick, a trap! Bah! I'm not scared by your threats. You stand aside, and let us pa.s.s!” cried Pradelle in a loud, bullying way, as he tried to draw Louise toward the door; but she freed herself from his grasp.
”No, no!” she cried wildly, as with ears and eyes on the strain she glanced at window and door, and caught her uncle's arm.
”Hah! glad you have so much good sense left. Nice scoundrel this to choose, my girl!”
”Uncle!” she whispered, ”you shall let me explain.”
”I don't want to hear any explanation,” cried the old man angrily. ”I know quite enough. Will you come home with me?”
”Yes!” she cried eagerly, and Leslie drew a breath full of relief.
”No!”