“No,” said Uncle Luke. “I think we will spare her the pain of seeing you arrested. Mr Pradelle, the police are on the stairs.”
Volume Three—Chapter Eighteen.
The Dog Bites.
Pradelle started back as if he had been stung.
“Police?” he said. “What do you mean?”
“What a man does mean, you scoundrel, when he talks about them—to give you into custody.”
“It is not a criminal offence to elope with a lady,” said Pradelle, with a malicious look at Leslie, who stood before the door with his hands clenched.
“Uncle!” cried Louise, whose pale face now flamed up as she glanced at Leslie, and saw that he avoided her eyes.