“You have seven thousand pounds about you, Mr. Crawley.”
Crawley started and trembled. “Stolen!” whispered Isaac in his very ear. “Give it up to the officer.”
Crawley rose instinctively. A firm hand was laid on each of his arms; he sat down again. “What—what—-ever money I have is trusted to me by the wealthiest and most respectable man in the cou—nty, and—”
“Stolen by him, received by you! Give it to Wood, unless you prefer a public search.”
“You can't search me without a warrant.”
“Here is a warrant from the mayor. Take the notes out of your left breast and give them to the officer, or we must do it by force and publicity.”
“I won't without Mr. Meadows' authority. Send for Mr. Meadows if you dare.” Isaac reflected. “Well! we will take you to Mr. Meadows. Keep the money till you see him, but we must secure you. Put his coat over his hands first.” The great-coat was put over his hands, and the next moment under the coat was heard a little sharp click.
“Let us go to the carriage,” said Levi, in a brisk, cheerful tone.
Those present heard the friendly invitation and saw a little string of acquaintances, three in number, break up a conversation and go and get into a fly; one carried a great-coat and bundle before him with both hands.