“Reasons, sir! No reasons can justify such an extraordinary breach of all the—the decencies. Reasons? the reasons of a maniac. Not to say more, sir. Fraudulent detention—fraudulent, I say, sir! What were your precious reasons?”
The mob with Tammas and Long Kirby at their head had now well nigh reached the plank-bridge. They still looked dangerous, and there were isolated cries of:
“Duck him!”
“Chuck him in!”
“An' the dog!”
“Wi' one o' they bricks about their necks!”
“There are my reasons!” said M'Adam, pointing to the forest of menacing faces. “Ye see I'm no beloved amang yonder gentlemen, and”—in a stage whisper in the other's ear—“I thocht maybe I'd be 'tacked on the road.”
Tammas foremost of the crowd, had now his foot upon the first plank.
“Ye robber! ye thief! Wait till we set hands on ye, you and yer gorilla!” he called.
M'Adam half turned.