"Easy, easy," said John Dixon, calm and composed. "Don't talk so freely of law and docks. And don't forget that curses come home to roost."
Other sounds from the first floor distracted Mr. Fox-Cordery.
"Is there a gang of you here? Whose steps are those above? Mother, alarm the house. Call up the servants, and send for the police."
"Aye, do," said John Dixon, as Mrs. Fox-Cordery pulled the bell with violence, "and let them see and hear what you shall see and hear. Don't be frightened, Charlotte. The truth must out now."
Mr. Fox-Cordery's pallid lips quivered, and he started back with a smothered shriek. Robert Grantham and his wife appeared at the top of the stairs, and as they slowly descended he retreated step by step, and seized his mother's arm.
"Be quiet, can't you?" he hissed. "Go and send the servants away. We do not want them. Say it was a mistake--a false alarm--anything--but keep them in their rooms!"
Retribution stared him in the face. The edifice he had built up with so much care had toppled over, and he was entangled in the ruins. It was well for them that he had no weapon in his hands, for coward as he was, his frenzy would have impelled him to use it upon them.
"I am here," said John Dixon, "by the permission you gave to Mrs. Grantham, and I am armed with authority to act for her. You see, I have not come alone."
"You devil! you devil!" muttered Mr. Fox-Cordery, through the foam that gathered about his mouth.
"Say nothing more to him, Mr. Dixon," said Robert Grantham, who had reached the foot of the stairs. "The truth has been brought to light, and his unutterable villainy is fully exposed. Leave to the future what is yet to be done. Lucy, go and dress our child. We quit this house within the hour. Do not fear; no one shall follow you."