robert falconer-第135章

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and　my　liberty。'



'Do　you　know　where　you　were　found　that　night　you　were　brought　here？'



'No。　But　what　has　that　to　do　with　it？　　I　was　ill。　　You　know　that　as

well　as　I。'



'You　are　ill　now　because　you　were　lying　then　on　the　wet　ground　under

a　railway…archutterly　incapable　from　the　effects　of　opium；　or

drink；　or　both。　　You　would　have　been　taken　to　the　police…station；

and　would　probably　have　been　dead　long　before　now；　if　you　had　not

been　brought　here。'



He　was　silent　for　some　time。　　Then　he　broke　out；



'I　tell　you　I　will　go。　　I　do　not　choose　to　live　on　charity。　　I　will

not。　　I　demand　my　clothes。'



'I　tell　you　it　is　of　no　use。　　When　you　are　well　enough　to　go　out　you

shall　go　out；　but　not　now。'



'Where　am　I？　　Who　are　you？'



He　looked　at　Robert　with　a　keen；　furtive　glance；　in　which　were

mingled　bewilderment　and　suspicion。



'I　am　your　best　friend　at　present。'



He　started　upfiercely　and　yet　feebly；　for　a　thought　of　terror　had

crossed　him。



'You　do　not　mean　I　am　in　a　madhouse？'



Robert　made　no　reply。　　He　left　him　to　suppose　what　he　pleased。

Andrew　took　it　for　granted　that　he　was　in　a　private　asylum；　sank

back　in　his　chair；　and　from　that　moment　was　quiet　as　a　lamb。　　But　it

was　easy　to　see　that　he　was　constantly　contriving　how　to　escape。

This　mental　occupation；　however；　was　excellent　for　his　recovery；

and　Robert　dropped　no　hint　of　his　suspicion。　　Nor　were　many

precautions　necessary　in　consequence；　for　he　never　left　the　house

without　having　De　Fleuri　there；　who　was　a　man　of　determination；

nerve；　and；　now　that　he　ate　and　drank；　of　considerable　strength。



As　he　grew　better；　the　stimulants　given　him　in　the　form　of　medicine

at　length　ceased。　　In　their　place　Robert　substituted　other

restoratives；　which　prevented　him　from　missing　the　stimulants　so

much；　and　at　length　got　his　system　into　a　tolerably　healthy

condition；　though　at　his　age；　and　after　so　long　indulgence；　it　could

hardly　be　expected　ever　to　recover　its　tone。



He　did　all　he　could　to　provide　him　with　healthy　amusementplayed

backgammon；　draughts；　and　cribbage　with　him；　brought　him　Sir

Walter's　and　other　novels　to　read；　and　often　played　on　his　violin；

to　which　he　listened　with　great　delight。　　At　times　of　depression；

which　of　course　were　frequent；　the　Flowers　of　the　Forest　made　the

old　man　weep。　　Falconer　put　yet　more　soul　into　the　sounds　than　he

had　ever　put　into　them　before。　　He　tried　to　make　the　old　man　talk　of

his　childhood；　asking　him　about　the　place　of　his　birth；　the　kind　of

country；　how　he　had　been　brought　up；　his　family；　and　many　questions

of　the　sort。　　His　answers　were　vague；　and　often　contradictory。

Indeed；　the　moment　the　subject　was　approached；　he　looked　suspicious

and　cunning。　　He　said　his　name　was　John　Mackinnon；　and　Robert；

although　his　belief　was　strengthened　by　a　hundred　little

circumstances；　had　as　yet　received　no　proof　that　he　was　Andrew

Falconer。　　Remembering　the　pawn…ticket；　and　finding　that　he　could

play　on　the　flute；　he　brought　him　a　beautiful　instrumentin　fact　a

silver　onethe　sight　of　which　made　the　old　man's　eyes　sparkle。　　He

put　it　to　his　lips　with　trembling　hands；　blew　a　note　or　two；　burst

into　the　tears　of　weakness；　and　laid　it　down。　　But　he　soon　took　it

up　again；　and　evidently　found　both　pleasure　in　the　tones　and　sadness

in　the　memories　they　awakened。　　At　length　Robert　brought　a　tailor；

and　had　him　dressed　like　a　gentlemana　change　which　pleased　him

much。　　The　next　step　was　to　take　him　out　every　day　for　a　drive；　upon

which　his　health　began　to　improve　more　rapidly。　　He　ate　better；　grew

more　lively；　and　began　to　tell　tales　of　his　adventures；　of　the　truth

of　which　Robert　was　not　always　certain；　but　never　showed　any　doubt。

He　knew　only　too　well　that　the　use　of　opium　is　especially

destructive　to　the　conscience。　　Some　of　his　stories　he　believed　more

readily　than　others；　from　the　fact　that　he　suddenly　stopped　in　them；

as　if　they　were　leading　him　into　regions　of　confession　which　must　be

avoided；　resuming　with　matter　that　did　not　well　connect　itself　with

what　had　gone　before。　　At　length　he　took　him　out　walking；　and　he

comported　himself　with　perfect　propriety。



But　one　day　as　they　were　going　along　a　quiet　street；　Robert　met　an

acquaintance；　and　stopped　to　speak　with　him。　　After　a　few　moments'

chat　he　turned；　and　found　that　his　father；　whom　he　had　supposed　to

be　standing　beside　him；　had　vanished。　　A　glance　at　the　other　side　of

the　street　showed　the　probable　refugea　public…house。　　Filled　but

not　overwhelmed　with　dismay；　although　he　knew　that　months　might　be

lost　in　this　one　moment；　Robert　darted　in。　　He　was　there；　with　a

glass　of　whisky　in　his　hand；　trembling　now　more　from　eagerness　than

weakness。　　He　struck　it　from　his　hold。　　But　he　had　already　swallowed

one　glass；　and　he　turned　in　a　rage。　　He　was　a　tall　and　naturally

powerful　manalmost　as　strongly　built　as　his　son；　with　long　arms

like　his；　which　were　dangerous　even　yet　in　such　a　moment　of

factitious　strength　and　real　excitement。　　Robert　could　not　lift　his

arm　even　to　defend　himself　from　his　father；　although；　had　he　judged

it　necessary；　I　believe　he　would　not；　in　the　cause　of　his

redemption；　have　hesitated　to　knock　him　down；　as　he　had　often　served

others　whom　he　would　rather　a　thousand　times　have　borne　on　his

shoulders。　　He　received　his　father's　blow　on　the　cheek。　　For　one

moment　it　made　him　dizzy；　for　it　was　well　delivered。　　But　when　the

bar…keeper　jumped　across　the　counter　and　approached　with　his　fist

doubled；　that　was　another　matter。　　He　measured　his　length　on　the

floor；　and　Falconer　seized　his　father；　who　was　making　for　the

street；　and　notwithstanding　his　struggles　and　fierce　efforts　to

strike　again；　held　him　secure　and　himself　scathless；　and　bore　him

out　of　the　house。



A　crowd　gathers　in　a　moment　in　London；　speeding　to　a　fray　as　the

vultures　to　carrion。　　On　the　heels　of　the　population　of　the

neighbouring　mews　came　two　policemen；　and　at　the　same　moment　out

came　the　barman　to　the　assistance　of　Andrew。　　But　Falconer　was　as

well　known　to　the　police　as　if　he　had　a　ticket…of…leave；　and　a　good

deal　better。



'Call　a　four…wheel　cab；'　he　said　to　one　of　them。　'I'm　all　right。'



The　man　started　at　once。　　Falconer　turned　to　the　other。



'Tell　that　man　in　the　apron；'　he　said；　'that　I'll　make　him　all　due

reparation。　　But　he　oughtn't　to　be　in　such　a　hurry　to　meddle。　　He

gave　me　no　time　but　to　strike　hard。'



'Yes；　sir；'　answered　the　policeman　obediently。　　The　crowd　thought　he

must　be　a　great　man　amongst　the　detectives；　but　the　bar…keeper　vowed

he　would　'summons'　him　for　the　assault。



'You　may；　if　you　like；'　said　Falconer。　'When　I　think　of　it；　you

shall　do　so。　　You　know　where　I　live？'　he　said；　turning　to　the

policeman。



'No；　sir；　I　don't。　　I　only　know　you　well　enough。'



'Put　your　hand　in　my　coat…pocket；　then；　and　you'll　find　a　card…case。

The　other。　　There！　　Help　yourself。'



He　said　this　with　his　arms　round　Andrew's；　who　had　ceased　to　cry　out

when　he　saw　the　police。



'Do　you　want　to　give　this　gentleman　in　charge；　sir？'



'No。　It　is　a　little　private　affair　of　my　own；　this。'



'Hadn't　you　better　let　him　go；　sir；　and　we'll　find　him　for　you　when

you　want　him？'



'No。　He　may　give　me　in　charge　if　he　likes。　　Or　if　you　should　want

him；　you　will　find　him　at　my　house。'



Then　pinioning　his　prisoner　still　more　tightly　in　his　arms；　he

leaned　forward；　and　whispered　in　his　ear；



'Will　you　go　home　quietly；　or　give　me　in　charge？　　There　is　no　other

way；　Andrew　Falconer。'



He　ceased　struggling。　　Through　all　the　flush　of　the　contest　his　face

grew　pale。　　His　arms　dropped　by　his　side。　　Robert　let　him　go；　and　he

stood　there　without　offering　to　move。　　The　cab　came　up；　the

policeman　got　out；　Andrew　stepped　in　of　his　own　accord；　and　Robert

followed。



'You　see　it's　all　right；'　he　said。　'Here；　give　the　barman　a

sovereign。　　If　he　wants　more；　let　me　know。　　He　deserved　all　he　got；

but　I　was　wron