Christmas Penny Readings: Original Sketches for the SeasonFenn, George Manville
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Christmas Penny Readings: Original Sketches for the Season
Fenn, George Manville
Christmas stories; Fiction; Poetry; Short stories
Well, perhaps, you'll say it was cowardly not to have dashed in at once
to help the sergeant. Perhaps it was; but, mind you, all this didn't
take many seconds, as we whispered together; and, besides, I knew well
enough that I should be taken at a disadvantage; for, though I couldn't
see him, I was sure enough that there was a fellow armed with a
life-preserver or a poker just behind the large window-curtain, so I
wanted to plan a bit. And, mind you, I didn't want to go; but, as my
fellow-constable did not seem disposed, and I stood close to the window,
there was nothing for it, but to take off my great coat and jump in. So
I drew out my staff, when my fingers were so numbed that I could hardly
hold it; and then I said to myself, "Now for it, my boy;" when, making
plenty of noise, I tried a very stale old trick--one that I didn't for a
moment expect would take; and I tell you what I did. I got my
fellow-constable's bull's-eye, opened it, and set it on the window-sill,
so that the light was shining into the room, and then in went one leg,
and I made believe to be jumping in with a rush; but, instead of doing
so, I pushed in my hat as far as I could reach on the end of my staff,
when "bang, crash," down came something right on the hat, beating my
staff out of my hand, and making my fingers tingle again, it came so
hard.
That was my time, though, and I leaped in so quickly that, before there
was time for another cut, I had tight hold of somebody, and there I was
engaged in the fiercest struggle I ever had. There were the chairs
knocking here, there, and everywhere, while I could feel somebody's hot
breath against my neck as, locked together, we swayed backwards and
forwards. Once I was forced right back upon the dining-room table, but
I sprang up again, and the next moment, whoever it was I struggled with
had his head through the glass; while, as to the darkness, it was
something fearful, for the lanthorn was knocked over, and only shone
just in one corner by the floor. Jangle went a piano once as I was
forced back on to it, and then the noise grew louder, for I could hear
above the wild beast, worrying noise we made, the people upstairs
screaming worse than ever.
"Well, there must be help come soon," I thought, as now down, now up, we
struggled on. I wanted to shout to my fellow-constable to come in, as
he was not wanted outside, but I suppose he did not like the job of
getting in, for he did not attempt to come, while as to calling him, I
could just as soon have flown, for my adversary seemed quite satisfied
with my company, and held on by my throat so tightly, that I was almost
choked.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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