“I fear, Julia,” he replied, “that I have committed myself by intermeddling in another’s quarrel. But who could look on while three men were assailing one?”
“You alarm me, William; go on.”
“I was rambling homewards from the cliffs; I heard three or four shots in the direction of the landing-place; and suspecting that smugglers were at work, I hastened off in another direction, lest any suspicion might attach itself to me. My anxiety to avoid it, however, brought on an unfortunate collision. I heard a noise approaching loud and angry voices, oaths, and blows, and the clashing of cutlasses succeeded—and hastening on, at a turning of the path I ascertained the cause. The fight was most unequal, for three persons were attacking a solitary man. I joined the weak side, stretched two of our opponents on the ground, the third ran off, and for the first time, I found that the man I rescued was Frank Brown. He wrung my hand; muttered his hurried thanks; and then bounded like a deer across the heath, and vanished in the Miller’s coppice.”
I kissed my brother ardently. “Well, William, English blood is warm—and who eould look on and not assist a brave man when assailed by numbers? Would, however, that it had been some other; Red Frank is such a desperado—a branded man—a felon.”
“Ay, girl, but was he not the first to jump into the life-boat after me, when we saved the drowning Dutchman? I owed him, devil as he is, a good turn for his gallantry. For rescuing him I care nothing; but I fear that blood was spilled already upon the beach. The pistol shots, and the desperate haste with which Red Frank escaped, lead me to dread that some previous violence had occurred. Who is below, Julia?”
“My father, and my unele.”
“Hark! I hear hasty footsteps; slip down, Julia, and probably you may hear if any accident has happened. I would not alarm my father unnecessarily until we know whether the affray was serious.”
I obeyed my brother’s wishes, and returned to the parlour. We heard men without; they seemed excited, spoke fast, and hurried rapidly along the street. Presently a knock was heard; I opened the door,—it was Gripp, my uncle’s clerk. He had come here to seek his master, and one glance at the evil agent of the lawyer, told that he was the bearer of heavy news.
“Well, George,” said Josiah, eagerly, “what’s wrong?” The lawyer never asked, “what’s right?”
“Nothing pertikler,” returned my uncle’s satellite; “only one man is murdered, and half a dozen nearly killed.”