Part 115 (2/2)
The negative came like a cry of agony.
”I cannot, uncle, I cannot.”
”I'll see about that,” cried the old man. ”Now, Leslie, ask Sergeant Parkins to step up here.”
”Let him if he dares!” cried Pradelle fiercely.
”Oh, he dares,” said Uncle Luke, smiling. ”Call him up, for it is a criminal case, after all.”
”Stop!” cried Pradelle, as Leslie laid his hand upon the door.
”Yes, stop--pray, pray stop!” cried Louise in agony; and with a wild look of horror, which stung Leslie with jealous rage. ”Uncle, you must not do this.”
”I'd do it if it was ten times as hard!” cried the old man.
”What shall I say--what shall I do?” moaned Louise. ”Uncle, uncle, pray don't do this. You must not send for the police. Give me time to explain--to set you right.”
”Shame upon you!” cried the old man fiercely. ”Defending such a scoundrel as that!”
”No, no, uncle, I do not defend this man. Listen to me; you do not know what you are doing.”
”Not know what I am doing? Ah!”
He turned from her in disgust, and with a look of agony that thrilled him, she caught Leslie's arm.
”You will listen to me, Mr Leslie. You must not, you shall not, call in the police.”
He did not speak for the moment, but stood hesitating as if yielding to her prayer; but the frown deepened upon his brow as he loosened her grasp upon his arm.
”It is for your good,” he said coldly, ”to save you from a man like that.”
”I must speak, I must speak!” cried Louise, and then she uttered a wail of horror and shrank to her uncle's side.
For as she clung to Leslie, Pradelle, with a bullying look, planted himself before the door to arrest Leslie's progress, and then shrank back as he saw the grim smile of satisfaction upon the young Scot's face.
It was the work of moments, and the action seemed like to that of one of his own country deerhounds, as Leslie clashed at him; there was the dull sound of a heavy blow, and Pradelle went down with a crash in one corner of the room.
”Mr Leslie! Mr Leslie! for pity's sake stay!” cried Louise as she made for the door; but Uncle Luke caught her hand, and retained it as the door swung to.
”Uncle, uncle!” she moaned, ”what have you done?”
”Done?” he cried. ”You mad, infatuated girl! My duty to my brother and to you.”
”All right,” said Pradelle, rising slowly. ”Let's have in the police then. I can clear myself, I dare say.”
”Mr Pradelle, if you have a spark of manliness in you, pray say no more,” cried Louise, as, s.n.a.t.c.hing herself free, she ran to him now.
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