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Of High Descent Part 48

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"Then look here," cried Pradelle, pointing to his injured head.

"I know nothing about that. You have the money, and I'll have it before I leave this room."

"You'll be clever, then," sneered Pradelle.

"Will you give it me?"

"No. How can I?"



"Don't make me wild, Pradelle, for I'm desperate enough without that.

Give me those notes, or, by all that's holy, I'll go straight to the police and charge you with the theft."

"Do," said Pradelle, "if you dare."

The man's coolness staggered Harry for the moment.

"If I'd got the money do you think I should be fool enough to make all this fuss? What do you mean? What game are you playing? Come, honour among--I mean, be square with me. You've got the notes."

"Ah!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Harry, with a look of disgust. "I tell you I have not."

"Harry! Harry!"

It was his sister's voice, and he heard her knocking sharply at his door.

"Look here, Pradelle, you've got those notes, and I tell you once more, you have to give them up or it's a case of police."

He had been moving towards the door, which he unfastened and threw open.

"I'm here, Louie," he said.

"Quick, dear! A message from papa. We are to go to Mr Van Heldre's at once."

"Van Heldre's?" faltered Harry, whose legs seemed to give way beneath him.

"Yes, dear; a policeman brought the message."

"A policeman?"

"Something is wrong. No, no, don't turn like that. It is not father, but Mr Van Heldre, so the man said. I think it is a fall."

Harry Vine's breath came thick and short. What should he do? Fly at once? No; that meant being taken and brought ignominiously back.

"Don't hesitate, dear," said Louise; "pray come quickly."

"Yes," said Harry huskily. "Of course, I'll come on. Will you--you go first?"

"Harry, what are you thinking, dear? Why do you look so shocked?

Indeed I am not deceiving you."

"Deceiving me?"

"No, dear: I am sure it is not papa who is hurt. There, come along, and see--for Madelaine's sake."

She said these last words very softly, almost in a whisper; but the only effect they had upon him was to make him shudder.

What should he do--face the danger or go? He must face it; he knew he must. It was his only hope, and already his sister was hurrying him to the door--his sister, perhaps unconsciously to hand him over to the police.

"No," he said to himself, with an attempt to be firm, "he could not have seen me; but was it after all Pradelle I struck down?"

A chill shot through him.

The locket torn from his watch-chain?

"Why, Harry dear, you seem quite upset."

"Upset--I--yes, it is so sudden. I am a bit--there, I'm all right now."

"Poor Madelaine! she must be in sad trouble."

Greater than the speaker realised.

She was in the dining-room with the elder Vine, and hung for a few moments on Louise's neck to sob forth her troubles when she entered.

Then, without a word or look at Harry, she hurried up-stairs.

"Why did you not speak to her, Harry?" whispered Louise.

He made no reply, but sat listening to his father, his eyes dilated and throat dry.

"And--and do they suspect any one?" whispered the young man in a voice he did not know for his own.

"No: the police have been away since, and they think they have a clue-- two pedlars, who have been about the place lately."

"And Mr Van Heldre--is--is he badly hurt?"

"Very badly. It is doubtful whether he can recover."

The young man's breath came and went in a strange labouring way as he sat rigidly upon his seat, while his father went on telling him fact after fact that the son knew only too well.

"Poor Van Heldre! First the s.h.i.+p, then this terrible calamity.

Crampton tells me that there was a sum of money deposited in the safe-- five hundred pounds in notes, and all gone--every penny--all gone. Poor old Crampton! he almost wors.h.i.+pped Van Heldre. He is nearly wild with grief. One minute he scowled at me savagely; the next minute he was apologetic. It's a terrible business, children. I thought you had better both come on, for, of course, I could not leave now."

Just then Mrs Van Heldre came down, looking red-eyed and pale, to take Louise to her breast.

"Thank you, my dear, thank you," she sobbed; "it was like you to come.

And you too, Harry Vine." She took and pressed the young man's hand, which was dank and cold. Then, in a quick access of grat.i.tude, she laid her hands upon his shoulders, and kissed him.

"Thank you, my dear," she said in a voice broken with sobs. "You seem always to have been like Maddy's brother. I might have known that you would come."

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