“’Fraid! What of?” said the girl. “I wasn’t afraid, but I felt as if I could have killed them both.”
“Ay, you must, my pretty. And now what do you mean me to do?”
“Do? Take the doctor there, and let him find Leo out, and beat Tom. It’ll stop it all, and serve him right. You will, won’t you, gran’fa?”
“Ay, lass, I will.”
“You good old, darling old gran’fa; and—look—look!”
The old man’s eyes caught sight of a face at the lattice window at the same moment; and almost before she had spoken, Moredock had caught up the heavy leaden tobacco jar, and hurled it with so good an aim that it went out through the diamond panes with a loud crash.
Daily stood in the fire-lit room half paralysed; but the old man had hobbled to the door, and gazed out in the darkness for a few moments, listening to the sound of retreating feet.
“Who was it, gran’fa?” whispered Dally.
“Well, I arn’t quite sure,” said the old man with asperity; “but I should say it was that Joe Chegg.”
“And he heard all I said?”