“Yes, it was Bence. He turned out to be a very well-known criminal—the police had been looking for him for some time. He was responsible for all the robberies; some of Dr. Firth’s property was found in his room, in addition to the jewels you children discovered in the bush. He has made a full confession.” She looked at me doubtfully. “Will it excite you to hear about it?”
“It will excite me far more not to hear,” I said truthfully. “I’ve been lying here for days, aching to see you: there was no one else I dared to ask. Do tell me. Did I hit him very hard?”
“You got in one lucky blow that dazed him, and a good many that hurt him a good deal. But for that I do not know what would have happened to you and the children. As it was, Julia seems to have arrived just in time, for he was getting his wits back. I don’t know that anyone is certain of what actually happened—you were all struggling in the darkness, and Judy was stunned. But just as Harry and Dicky arrived and turned on the lights he kicked you with tremendous force on the head: I don’t know whether he meant it, or if it were done blindly in his struggles.”
“I think it must have been that,” I said. “Bence was always very courteous!”
Mrs. McNab gave a short laugh.
“He was past being courteous just then. The blow sent you flying, and the other side of your head crashed into the carved leg of a table. Then, of course, the boys mastered him easily enough, aided by Julia, who fought with great fury. He was rather badly knocked about—they were all beside themselves, seeing you and Judy unconscious. Judy was quite well in half an hour. But you have been a more serious matter—though we shall soon have you as strong as ever.” And then she put her grey head down on my hand, and I felt it wet with her tears.
“And you got Colin and Madge for me! That was ever so dear of you.”
“That was the least we could do. Dr. Firth managed it for us: they were here next day. I think they rather wanted to kill us all at first, but they have forgiven us now. I have told Colin everything, Doris—about my brother and Shepherd’s Island. It was right that he should know. And though he was naturally distressed at all that you have undergone, I do not think he blames me—perhaps not as much as I blame myself. ‘I don’t see what else you could have done,’ he said. He has been wonderfully kind to me. It is easy to see why you are so proud of him.”
“Well—yes,” I said. “There never was anyone like Colin.”
She smiled at me.