“Eh?” cried Dad, looking at Schwartz, “what is this? Are you sure of your facts, Warden?”
I once read in a paper that some man who was fighting another man “went down and out.” I didn’t know what it meant, but it seemed to fit Schwartz’s case. He went limp all at once.
“Quite sure, Grosvenor,” said the solicitor. “You can thank your daughter for putting me on the track of a very discreditable and unsavory business. I have prepared the necessary documents, Mr. Schwartz. Will you execute them without further explanation?”
“Where is the ju-ju?” demanded Schwartz, pulling himself together, and glaring at me with eyes like flint marbles.
“Here,” said I, hauling it out of my pocket.
He took it, held it in his left hand, and signed the papers placed before him by the lawyer. Dad signed, too, and Mr. Warden witnessed the signatures. Not a word was spoken. Schwartz went out of the room, and Dad rang for Evangeline to tell Jim to get the victoria ready at once.
When Schwartz drove through our gate on his way to the station the mob cheered him. I expect he felt like being cheered. Bob told me afterwards that he said a naughty word to our lame porter when he wanted to carry the small bag in which the ju-ju was placed, I suppose, because gentlemen’s pockets are not like mine. Still, from what I heard later, he must have taken it out of the bag when he was safe in the train.
It was then nearly eight o’clock, and Dad sent Mole with a note to Jack to say that the negroes ought to be liberated at once. Jack, who has plenty of brains, brought his uncle with him to congratulate Dad and Mam about me, and they stayed to dinner. Jack and Dorothy sat together, so matters looked all right in that quarter. They did not say a great deal. Just as in Schwartz’s case, silence was eloquent. Dad brought me once to see a play at Drury Lane, and I imagined all sorts of terrifying things when the villain crept nearer the defenceless heroine. If either of them spoke it was not half so thrilling. I had just the same feeling when Mr. Warden kept waiting for Schwartz to admit he was beaten.
Prince John rang our bell exactly at nine o’clock.
“Wah!” shrieked Evangeline when she opened the door. Then she fled. I had to rush and grab Dan, but I smiled sweetly at my dark visitor, and asked him to come into the morning-room. I knew that Mr. Warden and Uncle Stanhope were telling each other that every motorist should be sent to penal servitude on a second conviction, so I had no trouble in beckoning Dad to join me for a minute.