Witness to the Deed Part 77

"I tell you, I will protect you, man. Now, come on."

He took a step forward, and the ex-convict gave a fierce tug to draw his weapon, but stopped, for Brettison seized his friend, and held him back.

"The pistol! Mind!" he cried.

"He has no pistol," roared Stratton, dragging himself free; and, seizing the man by the collar with both hands, he flung him aside. "Now, then, the police at once."

Brettison rushed to the door; but stopped short to gaze in wonder at the group before him.

For as if Stratton's touch had discharged all power from the man he had seized, the fierce look faded from his face, which grew heavy, vacuous, and dull; his legs trembled beneath him, and he lurched forward, and was only saved from falling by a rapid movement on Stratton's part as he swung him into an easy-chair, where his enemy sank back with his head lying over on one shoulder, and his leaden eyes staring heavily at the floor.

The strength which had animated him with the flush of memory which had come back, had pa.s.sed away, and he was once more the feeble imbecile, slowly raising his hand to his neck, where his fingers wandered about the scar of his wound; while at that moment there was faintly heard on the staircase the cheery humming-over of a sc.r.a.p from an opera, followed by voices and steps on the stone landing, which halted at the door.

Then came a long, rolling knock, followed by a merry laugh, and Stratton, with a quick movement, raised his hand and whispered:

"Hus.h.!.+"

CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT.

TO SAVE HER.

The knock was repeated as Brettison and Stratton stood gazing at each other, and then at the miserable imbecile before them in the chair.

At that moment a familiar voice, m.u.f.fled by the doors, but still silvery and clear, said:

"No use; not at home."

"One more try!" came plainly to their ears, followed by a cleverly executed _roulade_ with the little bra.s.s knocker.

Then there was a short pause, and the rattle of the little copper-plate of the letter-box as if something had been dropped in; the babble of merry voices, and descending steps.

Stratton waited till the last sound had died out, when he opened the inner door, and took out two cards.

"Edie and Guest," he said, as he came back and reclosed the door.

Just then a line or two in pencil caught his eye, and he read:

"_Come on to my rooms as soon as you can. News_.

"_P.G_."

"Impossible?" muttered Stratton, tossing the cards on to the table.

"Now, Brettison, we must act at once."

"Yes. Yes; of course. But, my dear lad, what a pity you found me, and I took you there."

"Too late to talk of that, man," said Stratton, who was full of energy now as he stood frowning. "But have you ever had any scene like this before? I mean, has he returned to his former self?"

"No. He has always been as you saw him this morning. His memory was a blank as to the past. Your coming and the sound of your voice must have revived it all."

"But he made not the faintest sign of recognition."

"No; but we cannot understand the workings of the brain. It was, perhaps, the expiring effort of his reason, for look at him now."

"Expiring!" cried Stratton. "Yes; but how many more flashes of reason may spring up before the light goes right out?"

Brettison gazed at the man in a perplexed way, and bent over and touched him, but there was no sign.

"This settles it," said Stratton at last. "We must act at once."

"Yes. What shall we do?"

"You see, he may have a hundred returns of his memory, and come here again and again threatening and making demands; and if he has reason enough at these times to come here, what is to prevent his going up to the admiral's and making a terrible scene there?"

Brettison nodded.

"Yes," he said hopelessly. "What, indeed! Malcolm, my dear lad. I thought by going into hiding with him, and devoting myself to his care, I was doing you a great service; but I'm getting old and weak, I suppose. I will go by all you say now. I haven't an opinion of my own."

"You did everything you could for me," said Stratton warmly; "and you must go on helping me still."

"I will do anything if you will only trust me."

"Trust you," cried Stratton reproachfully. "There, we must act at once."

"What do you propose doing?"

"Making sure that the man has no further opportunity of doing harm to anyone."

"You will not hand the poor wretch over to the police?"

"No," said Stratton sternly. "I cannot; he is her husband. That blow must not come from me. Either you or I must always be with him abroad."

"Yes, it would be best. Beyond reach of doing harm. Where shall I take him?"

"_We_ will take him across to France first," said Stratton, emphasising the first word. "Let's get him to Saint Malo, and then along the coast to some secluded fis.h.i.+ng village, till we can think out a better plan."

"Good; and when will you start?"

"At once--that is, to-night. You could be ready?"

"A man who can draw a little money is always ready," replied Brettison, smiling. "Then I'll take him back with me in a cab, pack up some things, and you will join us in time to catch the train which meets the Southampton boat this evening."

"No. Leave him with me," said Stratton firmly. "Go and get your luggage ready, and call for me with a cab at nine; that will be plenty of time for us to catch the train."

"But--er--leave you--with him?" said Brettison hesitatingly.