“Ho!” said Stogumber. “You did, did you? Then p’raps you’ll be so obliging as to cast your wapper-eyes over that afore you says something as you’ll be sorry for!”
Mr. Willitoft, reading the information inscribed on the grubby sheet of paper handed down to him, looked very much taken aback, and even a little daunted. In a milder tone, he exclaimed: “Bow Street! God bless my soul! Very well, I demand no tax from you! But this fellow here is another matter!” he added, looking with disfavour at Chirk.
“He ain’t neither,” said Stogumber. “He’s working for me.”
“Miss Nell,” said Rose, in a hollow voice, “I am going to have a Spasm! I can feel it coming on!”
“Oh, don’t do that!” said John, who, having tethered his horses, had limped up to them. He took Nell’s hands, and held them in his firm, comforting clasp. “My poor girl!” he said gently. “I wish I might have been beside you when it happened!”
“You know, then? I came to tell you, and to ask you what I should do now. Just at the end, he knew me, and smiled, and, oh, John, he winked at me, and with such, a look in his eye!”
“Did he? What a right one he was!” John said warmly. “He made up his mind he would live to accomplish one task, and, by Jove, he did accomplish it! You mustn’t grieve, my darling: he knew all was well, and he was glad to be done with his life.”
“That’s what I’ve been telling her, sir,” agreed Rose. “Not even Mr. Winkfield wished him to drag on longer! Oh, for goodness’ sake, sir, whatever is my Jerry doing, as bold as brass? Such palpitations as it’s giving me I shall very likely go off in a swoon!”
“No need for that: he’s turned respectable, and is about to set up as a farmer. Mrs. Staple and I are coming to dance at your wedding.”
“Oh, Rose, I am so glad!” Nell said. “But is that man indeed from Bow Street, John? What were you doing in his company, and why are you limping? Good God, can it be—John, what does it mean?”