Colonel Thorndyke's SecretHenty, G. A. (George Alfred)
General
Colonel Thorndyke's Secret
Henty, G. A. (George Alfred)
Detective and mystery stories; Hindus -- England -- Fiction; India -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
“I will send Knapp down,” John Thorndyke said, as they drove homewards.
“I am rather curious to know if this fellow is the same Mrs. Cunningham
wrote about. I will tell him to take Peters along with him.”
“I hardly see that there can be any connection between the two.
Highwaymen don't go in for house breaking. I think they consider that to
be a lower branch of the profession.”
“Generally they do, no doubt, Mark; but you know I told you that the
chief at Bow Street said that he had a suspicion that the highway
robbers and the house breakers who have been creating so much alarm are
the same men.”
“It is curious that they should have happened to light on us, father, if
they were intending to break into our house.”
John Thorndyke made no reply, and in a few minutes drove up to the
house. Their return, a couple of days before they were expected,
caused great satisfaction to Mrs. Cunningham and Millicent. The former,
however, had wisely kept from the girl the matter on which she had
written to the Squire, and the suspicion she had herself entertained.
“It is very dull without you both,” Millicent said. “I was telling Mrs.
Cunningham that I thought it would be a good thing, when you got back,
for us two to take a run up to town for a week, just to let you see
how dull the place is when two of us are away. You are looking quite
serious, uncle. Is anything the matter?”
“Happily nothing is the matter with us, dear, but we have had an
adventure, and not a very pleasant one.”
“What was it?” the girl asked.
“If you examine my hat closely, Millicent, it will tell you.”
The girl took up the hat from a chair on which he had put it, and
brought it to the light. “There are two holes in it,” she said. “Oh,
Guardy, have you been shot at?”
“It looks like it, dear. Two gentlemen highwaymen--at least, that is
what I believe they call themselves--asked us pressingly to stop, and
as we would not comply with their request, one fired at me, and, as you
see, it was an uncommonly good shot. The other was about to fire when
Mark's pistol put a stop to him, and his second barrel stopped the
fellow who had fired first; he was hit, for we heard him give an
exclamation of pain, but before any more shooting could be done he
turned and rode off down a narrow lane where we could not follow.”
“And what became of the first?” Millicent asked with open eyes.
“He was dead before we could get down to examine him; he will not
disturb the King's peace again. It happened about four miles from home,
so we brought him in and gave him and his horse into the charge of the
constable at Reigate.”
“And you have really killed a man?” Millicent said, looking up with an
awestruck expression to Mark.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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