Adventure stories; England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Love stories; Young men -- Fiction
At sight of me she half rose, then sank down again, as from an inner
chamber strode a tall, heavily built man in whom I instantly
recognised the gentleman of the chaise. Beholding me, he halted
suddenly and stood a minute like one utterly amazed, then his face was
convulsed with sudden fury, his full lips curled back from strong,
white teeth, and uttering a snarling, inarticulate sound, he caught up
a heavy walking cane and strode towards me, whereupon I retreated so
precipitately that my heel catching in the worn floor-covering, I
tripped and fell; then, or ever I could rise, he stooped and catching
me in merciless hands, shook me like the savage monster he was and
dragging me across the floor, hurled me into the passage; lying
breathless and half-stunned, I heard the slam of the door, the rattle
of a bolt and thereafter the sound of his voice, hoarse and muffled
and very evil to be heard. I was upon my knees and groping for my hat
when powerful arms caught me and lifted me to my feet.
"Why, Perry--curse and confound it!" exclaimed Anthony. "What in the
name of--"
He broke off suddenly and I felt the arm about me grow tense and rigid
as from beyond the bolted door the harsh voice reached us, fiercer,
louder than before.
"Let you go back--and be laughed at for a fool? Not I! Little fool....
No, by God ... weep your eyes out ... we're as good as married ...
to-morrow morning ... come here ... obey me--"
"God!" exclaimed Anthony between shut teeth.
"And the door is bolted!" said I.
"No matter! Out o' my way!"
I saw him leap, saw his foot shoot out, heard a rending crash and next
moment he was in the room and I behind him. The man in the blue
spencer was in the act of locking the door of the inner room and
stood, his hand upon the key, glaring at us beneath drawn brows.
"What the devil!" quoth he, and snatching the stick where it lay on
the table, turned upon Anthony with the weapon quivering in his big
fist. "Out of this!" he snarled. "Back to the mud that bred you--d'ye
hear!"
"One moment!" said Anthony, his grey eyes very wide and bright. "There
is a lady in the room yonder and the doors are devilish flimsy,
otherwise I should endeavour to describe the kind of thing you are--I
intend very shortly to tread on you, but first--"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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