Some Persons UnknownHornung, E. W. (Ernest William)
General
Some Persons Unknown
Hornung, E. W. (Ernest William)
English fiction -- 19th century; Short stories, English
"Confound you!" I cried, "do you think I want to compromise myself by
being found here with you? For two pins I'll leave you to get out of
this as best you can. You heard me? I want that twenty thousand pounds.
I want it to pay back into the bank. Then I'll do what I can, but not
until."
I saw his dark eyes blazing as they had blazed in the candle-light.
He was between me and the door, and I knew that for any gain to him I
never should have left that room alive. At least I believed so then;
I believe it still; but at that moment his manner changed. He gave in
to me, and yet maintained a coolness and a courage in his peril, a
dignity in his defeat, which more than fascinated me. They made me his
slave. I could have screened him all day for the pure æsthetic joy of
contemplating those fearless, dare-devil eyes and hearing that cynical
voice of unaffected ease. But the money I insisted on having.
"That's all very well," said he; "but I haven't got it here. I planted
it."
"Tell me where."
"I can't; I could never make it plain; it's not an obvious place
at all. Still I accept your terms. Bring me a change of clothes
to-night--I daren't face daylight--and I give you my word you shall
have the stuff to take back to the bank. I've made a bungle of it;
thought of it for weeks, and bungled it after all! It was that Barwon
business tempted me. I wasn't ready, but couldn't resist the big haul.
All I want now is to get out of it with a whole skin. And by Jove! I
see the way. You go to old I'Anson with the money, and get him to say
he'll see me. Then I'll tell him it was all a practical joke--done for
a bet--anything you like--and if the thing don't altogether blow over,
well, I'll get off lighter than I deserve. The old chap will stand by
me at all events; he's got his reasons."
I refrained from asking what they were. I fancied I knew, and hoped I
did not. But Deedes demanded more than a silent consent to his plans.
"Look here: are you on, Beetle, or are you not?"
"Can I trust you?"
"I give you my word upon it; till yesterday it was the word of an
honest man."
"You want a rig-out as different as possible from what you have on?"
"Yes, and some whiskers or something if you can possibly get hold of
any. Your friends are great on theatricals. Ask to look at their props."
"You'll pay back every penny, and plead a practical joke?"
"My dear chap, it's my only chance. I see no other way out of it,
Beetle. I'm fairly cornered; only help me to pay back before I'm
caught, and at least I'll get off light."
"Very well," said I. "On those conditions I will help you. Where were
you when I came in?"
"In the cellar; it's safer and also more comfortable than under the
floor."
"Then I advise you to go back there, for I'm off. If I'm found here we
shall be run in together."
He detained me, however, a moment more. It was to put a letter in my
hand, a stout missive addressed in pencil to myself.
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