London's Heart: A NovelFarjeon, B. L. (Benjamin Leopold)
General
London's Heart: A Novel
Farjeon, B. L. (Benjamin Leopold)
London (England) -- Fiction
"Now, then, _will_ you move out of this?" exclaimed another official,
about to lay hands upon the young man; Mr. Sheldrake quietly stepped
between them, knowing that the touch of the policeman's hand would be
adding fuel to flame. But for Mr. Sheldrake's interposition it would
have fared ill with the young fellow, who had worked himself into a
most unreasonable passion.
"Come, come," said the peacemaker in a persuasive tone; "you don't
want to be locked up all night. The policemen have their duty to
perform, and you mustn't obstruct them."
"I don't want to obstruct them, and I don't want to be locked up,"
said the young man; "but what right had they to interfere with me and
my friends? Ask any one here if I was in the wrong."
A dozen voices supported him in various ways, all of them
uncomplimentary to the police, one of whom grew so exasperated that he
exclaimed, in a tone of dangerous decision, "Now, then, if you don't
move off this minute, we'll march you to the station-house." He
produced his stave, and the others followed his example. This action
caused many among the mob to take to their heels, and they scampered
away, hooting as they ran.
"They had _no_ business to interfere," whispered Mr. Sheldrake
hurriedly, placing his arm in that of the young man; "but don't you
see, that though you might have been in the right at first----"
"Might have been!" interrupted the unreasonable young fellow hotly. "I
was!"
"Well, although you _were_ in the right at first, you are in the wrong
now. Come, take the advice of a friend, and let us get out of this.
I don't like to see a young gentleman like you mixed up in such an
affair. Look at the riff-raff about. Where are your friends? Why,
_they've_ gone off, you see, and didn't mind leaving you in the
lurch.--All right, policeman, we're going."
Thus urging and humouring, Mr. Sheldrake induced the young man to move
with him through the throng of people, who were inclined to hoot him
now for showing the white feather. The excitement, however, being
over, they rapidly dispersed, grumbling at the peaceable issue of the
affair. Soon Mr. Sheldrake and his charge were in a quieter part of
the neighbourhood, when the latter, still almost at fever-heat, asked
offensively, as if it were absolutely necessary he should fall foul of
somebody,
"Perhaps you'll tell me who you are, interfering with my affairs. I
don't know you."
"I don't suppose you do," replied Mr. Sheldrake with perfect good
humour. "Are you going home?"
"What business may that be of yours?" asked the young man, not abating
his offensive tone.
"I'll walk a little way with you if you are, that's all. Shall I make
a shrewd guess, and say that you live in Soho? Come, come; I see
that you are angry with me for interfering; but you must admit that
the position you are in now is better than being hauled along by
half-a-dozen policemen, with a mob hooting at their heels. Come, now,
admit that."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account