Part 34 (1/2)

But she knew before he answered, for at that moment Forrester's tall figure suddenly grew out of the darkness beside them.

He was making for the smaller gate, of which Peg knew he kept a duplicate key, and which led to the offices, and with sudden impulse she darted forward and caught his arm.

”Mr. Forrester!”

The Beggar Man turned sharply and peered down at her white face.

”You! Good heavens! is anything the matter.... Faith?” His mind flew with swift apprehension to his wife.

Peg laughed bitterly.

”Oh, no, she's safe and sound enough. It's you.”

”Me!” His eyes went beyond her to where Farrow stood. ”Good heavens!

What's the meaning of it all?” he demanded angrily. ”Farrow, if you've been down to Hampstead frightening my wife....”

He turned on the man threateningly as a shrill warning scream broke from Peg, and the next instant Forrester felt himself seized violently from behind and flung backwards.

The darkness was filled with voices and shouting, and the street seemed suddenly to have grown alive with men.

It all happened so quickly that afterwards Forrester could remember no details, but, above all the din and tumult, he could hear Peg's voice raised in a wild scream of entreaty.

”Ben--Ben--for G.o.d's sake!”

The scuffle was all about him as he stood with his back to the locked gates trying to see what was happening, and to free himself of her enc.u.mbering body, but her arms were round his neck, and as by main force he tried to unclasp them and throw her aside a terrific blow fell somewhere from out of the darkness--not on him, but on the girl who clung to him so frantically; and suddenly she sagged against him and would have fallen but for his upholding arms.

There were running steps in the street, and the shrill blast of a police whistle rose above the discord as the crowd of hooligans broke and scattered in all directions, panic-stricken.

Forrester laid Peg on the pavement, still keeping his arms about her. He felt confused and dazed; he could not realize what had happened.

One of the police who had come upon the scene turned the light of his lantern on Peg's face; the blow that had struck her had torn her hair down, and it lay in a tangled ma.s.s about her white face, but her eyes were open and fixed on the Beggar Man.

”Peg! Peg!” he said hoa.r.s.ely.

It was the first time he had ever called her by her Christian name, and a little smile wavered across her face.

”I--I saved your life, anyway----” she whispered weakly, and then more softly still, ”It's like a novelette!” said Peg, and closed her eyes.

CHAPTER XIII

It was midnight when Forrester got back home; he let himself into the dark house mechanically. He felt drunk with shock and the horror of all that had happened. He groped blindly along the wall and found the switch, flooding the hall with light, and as he did so he heard a little sound close to him on the stairs and a smothered cry.

He wheeled round sharply, and came face to face with his wife. She was at the foot of the stairs, dressed for travelling, and she clutched a small dressing-case in one shaking hand.

Forrester stared at her stupidly for a moment, and then his eyes turned to the clock. It was on the stroke of midnight! So late--and Faith going out! He tried to think, to understand, but his brain worked slowly, like machinery that wanted oiling through long disuse. Then suddenly he seemed to understand.

The blood rushed to his face in a pa.s.sionate flood. He took a step forward and gripped her arm.