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"You have had an attack of the horrors already," he said. "What does this trembling mean?" He took a spirit-flask from his pocket as he spoke. Thomas Wildfang snatched it out of his hand, and emptied it at a draught. "All right now, master," he said. Turlington felt his arm once more. It was steadier already.
The place was all astir when he reached it. An old man a stranger in Baxdale had been found lying in the road, close to the church, in a fit; and the person who had discovered him had been no other than Launce himself. He had, literally, stumbled over the body of Thomas Wildfang in the dark, on his way back to his lodgings in the village.
His first opera, 'Der Bärenhäuter' , was fairly successful, principally owing to a fantastic and semi-comic libretto. 'Herzog Wildfang' and 'Der Kobold' failed completely, nor does his latest work, 'Bruder Lustig' , raise very sanguine hopes as to its young composer's future career.
Wildfang brandished his cudgel, and struck a heavy blow with it on one of the turf mounds near them. "Will that drop him, captain?" he asked. Turlington went on with his instructions. "Rob him when you have dropped him. Take his money and his jewelry. I want to have the killing of him attributed to robbery as the motive. Make sure before you leave him that he is dead. Then go to the malt-house.
The eyes of Thomas Wildfang fastened greedily on Turlington's face. "Let's hear," he said. "Softly, captain. Let's hear." When the women came back with the clothes, Turlington had left the room. Their promised reward lay waiting for them on the table, and Thomas Wildfang was eager to dress himself and be gone. They could get but one answer from him to every question they put.
I shall stop short here, and say to him, 'You can't miss your way in the dark now I will go back. When I am far enough away from him, I shall blow a call on my whistle. The moment you hear the call, follow the man, and drop him before he gets out of the church-yard. Have you got your cudgel?" Thomas Wildfang held up his cudgel. Turlington took him by the arm, and felt it suspiciously.
The man started, and drew his huge hairy hand across his eyes, as if in doubt whether he was waking or sleeping. "It's better than ten years, master, since you called me by my name. If I am Thomas Wildfang, what are you?" "Your captain, once more." Thomas Wildfang sat up on the side of the bed, and spoke his next words cautiously in Turlington's ear. "Another man in the way?" "Yes."
You will find it worth your while when you come back." The women took the pawnbroker's tickets from the pockets of the man's trousers and hurried out. Turlington closed the door, and seated himself by the bedside. He laid his hand familiarly on the giant's mighty shoulder, looked him full in the face, and said, in a whisper, "Thomas Wildfang!"
There are your instructions. Do you understand them?" Wildfang nodded his head in silent token that he understood, and disappeared again among the graves. Turlington went back to the house. He had advanced midway across the garden, when he was startled by the sound of footsteps in the lane at that part of it which skirted one of the corners of the house.
The doctor had come back to the door to say that he would take on himself the necessary duty of informing the constable of what had happened, on his return to the village. Turlington started and changed color. If Wildfang was found by others, and questioned in his employer's absence, serious consequences might follow.
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