"Tonkin!" cried Dick, "what are you doing?"
"Out of my way!" shouted the man, throwing himself upon the prostrate figure, from which there came a piteous squeal for mercy.
Dick tried to drag the smuggler from his victim, but he might as readily have moved an oak.
"Tonkin, I say!" he cried in agitation, "for God's sake get up. Would you commit murder, like the murderer at the well? Think! Calm yourself! 'Tis Christmas Eve."
A terrible scream rent the air. Dick caught Tonkin by the collar and exerted all his strength to pull him from the fallen body. Finding this useless, he flung himself on the ground beside him, and tried to loosen his grip on the man's throat. He was in despair, when he heard a shout near at hand, and the next moment Penwarden rushed to the spot, carrying a lantern.
"'Tis you, Zacky Tonkin!" he cried. "Get on your feet, or I don't care who the man is, I'll arrest 'ee in the King's name."
The light of the lantern fell on the distorted face beneath him, and for the first time Dick saw that the victim was Doubledick.
"Think of yer wife and boy," said Penwarden. "Shall they lose 'ee for such as he?"
Tonkin's first frenzy of rage had spent itself. He slowly rose to his feet, leaving the innkeeper gasping, half-throttled.
There was silence for a space. Dick and Penwarden were held spellbound by the expression upon Tonkin's strong, rugged face. He stood like a statue, gazing down upon the huddled figure of Doubledick. Then he turned.