“Surely, sir,” said Charles, “I am willing to sit with you!”
“I’ll have the boy,” he growled. “Not you—John here!”
Mr. Bradbury, securing his cloak about him, said in a clear voice, though he looked uneasily at me, “Then, sir, I take my leave of you. Mr. John Craike shall stay by you. But, Charles, let this be known among the folk of this house—it’s no time to mince words: if any harm come to him, I’ll have the reckoning. Gentlemen, I go, and I’ll return with all the speed I may. Good night! Charles, pray, will you light me down the stair?”
Chapter XXXI. The Night Watch
Now the event proved the truth of my assumption that Mr. Bradbury had about him that which he was eager to convey immediately from the house to safety, lest Charles, or Blunt, or any other rogues should lay their hands upon it. He feared to leave me in the house, but believing that my grandfather had a secret purpose in his insistence, he consented, thinking to return speedily with assistance.
My grandfather cried out to my uncle, as he took my candle to light Mr. Bradbury from the room, “You’ll not return, Charles, unless I ring!”
Charles, eyeing him askance, nodded, and went out with Mr. Bradbury.
My grandfather, looking cunningly at me, chuckled and muttered, “Good lad! Good lad! You’re not afraid of Charles. You’ll profit by stayin’. Hey, you will! We’ll have the merriest of nights of it. Hark to the wind on the house. Like as if the crew below were knocking. Lock the door and bar it!”
I sped to the door and turned the key, and set the iron bar across it in its sockets, noting how massive was the door, and how great the lock; feeling safer then, though dreading the mad humour of my grandfather.
As I would have sat down, he called out, “Find the bottle and the glasses. Pour me a dram! Pour yourself a dram; ’twill put heart in you.”