“Now, that won’t do!” the constable said severely. “I axed you, and you admitted it! You’ll come along to the Roundhouse, that’s what you’ll do!”
“I wish you will not be so hasty!” the Duke said, addressing himself to Mr. Mamble. “If you will accompany me to the Pelican Inn, I will engage to satisfy you on all counts, but I really cannot do so in the open street!”
“You perceive, sir, what an artful rogue he is!” Mr. Snape said, plucking at Mr. Mamble’s sleeve. “Do not trust him!”
“Sam Mamble never trusted no one!” announced Mr. Mamble comprehensively. “Where’s my son, villain?”
The Duke opened his mouth, and shut it again. He had taken an instant dislike to the unctuous Mr. Snape, and felt that to betray Tom’s whereabouts at this stage would be a dastardly act.
“Ha! So you think you won’t say, do you? We’ll see to that!” said Mr. Mamble.
“On the contrary, I am perfectly willing to restore your son to you,” replied the Duke. “But I have a few things to say to you first!”
“If I have to listen to any more of this fellow’s impudence, I’ll bust!” said Mr. Mamble. “What the devil makes you stand there like a fool, Snape? Go and call up a hack!”
Mr. Snape said obsequiously that he had only been awaiting a command to do so, and hurried off. The Duke tried to remove the constable’s hand from his shoulder, failed, and said wearily: “You are making a mistake, you know. If you must have it, I’m the Duke of Sale!”
This disclosure produced anything rather than the desired effect. Both his auditors were for the moment struck dumb by such effrontery, and then combined to revile him. Upon reflection, he was obliged to own that their disbelief was not surprising. Several passers-by had by this time gathered round, and rather than run the risk of creating a scene in the street the Duke abandoned the attempt to argue with his captors. When Mr. Snape presently reappeared in a hackney, he got into it without protest, and allowed himself to be driven to the Roundhouse. Mr. Mamble was urgent with the constable to seek out a magistrate directly, but the constable seemed to think that the matter first called for closer investigation. So the whole party trooped into the Roundhouse, where the Duke speedily learned that he was being accused of having (with or without accomplices) laid a cunning plot to kidnap Tom, felled Mr. Snape to the earth, and made off with his charge with intent to hold him to ransom. He glanced contemptuously at the tutor, and said: “Yes, I had thought from what Tom told me that you were a shabby, mean sort of a fellow, and I suppose it might be expected that you would concoct some such tale to protect yourself! It was Tom who hit you on the head, and I think you know that, and are hoping that he will be too much frightened to tell the truth.”