He darted round the table towards her; but she evaded him, screaming, and made straight towards where Philip stood. Ogledon, in his mad rush, tripped and fell; and, at the same moment, Philip caught the girl, swung her round into the darkness where he had been standing, and stepped out into the light.
It was all done so rapidly, that Ogledon was on his feet, and had actually come on, with a blind rush, before he saw who stood in his path; and even then, he had no time to stop himself—scarcely time even to cry out. In a moment, Philip had him by the throat, and had forced him to his knees; bending over him, and looking full into his ghastly face, he spoke the first words that rose to his lips; re-assumed, for a moment, that character he had taken upon himself near that very spot but a week or two before.
“Dandy Chater is dead—is he? Struck down by your hand from behind in the dark—murderer! Do you look into his eyes now—in this place where you killed him—or will you still cry that Dandy Chater has not come back from the grave?”
The face into which Philip Chater looked, suddenly changed horribly; mouthed and chattered at him, in some unearthly tongue; and the head fell backwards. He felt the body relax, and droop under his hands; heard a sort of gasping cry; and then it slid out of his grasp to the floor. At the same moment, the door was flung open, and the place seemed full of people.
In the front of them were some constables—and, just behind them, the face of the Shady ’un. Philip had a dim idea that Madge had come out into the light, and was bending over the prostrate form of Ogledon. He knew, too, that handcuffs were on his wrists, and that he was strongly held by a couple of men. Some others had gone to Ogledon, and were raising him up.
“Yes—take me,” he cried, recklessly; “I don’t mind now; my innocence is proved. Look to that man”—he pointed towards Ogledon—“he knows my story; he is my chief witness!”
One of the men, who had been bending over Ogledon, got up and adjusted his chin-strap, and looked at Philip curiously.
“I’m afraid your witness won’t do you much good,” he said, shortly. “The man is dead!”
CHAPTER XXIV
A RACE FOR A LIFE
The Shady ’un, in the vindictiveness of his temper, had a word or two to say to the stricken man, before he was marched off.