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Updated: June 6, 2025
It was the face of Melchard; astonishment and disgust for a fatal moment took away her breath. Before she could scream, his hands were on her mouth and naked neck, pushing her roughly backward until she was against the right-hand curtain and the corner of the wall. From behind the curtain, it seemed, two small, soft hands stole over her shoulders and gripped her neck, squeezing it savagely.
Much as he disliked Melchard and his indefinitely unpleasant reputation, he was not going to have his match spoiled by the beating and kicking to a jelly of a scented and dandified Millsborough dentist. So, ignoring Melchard, he went up to Sam Bunce. "I am afraid your daughter is hardly as strong as you thought, Mr. Bunce," he said.
Melchard obeyed, and his weapon lay three yards out of reach. "Move an inch, and I'll put a hole in your slimy heart." Melchard stood, still game enough to control in some measure the trembling which had seized him. Then Dick raised his voice. "Miss Caldegard!" he shouted. "I'm coming," came the clear voice in reply, and a patter of light feet.
Five parties had Melchard sent out from Millsborough; two cars, as if going to the fair and cricket match at Ecclesthorpe, or the races at Timsdale-Horton, each with four men; and three motor-cycles with sidecars, two men apiece.
Melchard doesn't want me to be killed," she said. For a moment Fridji's rage choked her. "I'll scream, and he'll come with his men." "With this I have sent him running from your door," cried Fridji. "It is locked this side, and you will bleed to die before they break it." Not rushing, but creeping, Dutch Fridji approached.
Melchard, meantime, was toiling up the slope in Dick's footsteps with a determination unexpected in a man of his appearance and mode of life. On the other side of the ancient causeway, at the very foot of the slope, Amaryllis, full of courage and calculation, but with a heart beating painfully until her moment for action should come.
Something more Melchard said, but this time Dick could not catch the order. Mut-mut, however, interpreted, by altering his course and running along the foot of the ridge towards a place where the ascent appeared less steep. By this, it seemed, he intended to cut across Dick's line of flight, and to drive him back upon Melchard.
"Seen it since?" he asked. "No," said the girl. "Does it matter? Even if I did drop it then, Melchard wouldn't go in there. He hadn't any horses." "The ostler called after us, you remember. He was waving something white." "Oh! You didn't tell me. And you'd given him half a crown!" said Amaryllis. "Seemed a grateful sort of bloke, didn't he?" said Dick, ruefully. "And wanted to give it back to me?
Sam'l Bunce!" it was only the man who turned his head, waving his hand as if in reply to a belated farewell. The parson swung round in time to see Melchard snatch the handkerchief from the ostler's hand. Feeling the clergyman's eyes upon him, he muttered: "Looks like one of mine," and ran the hem quickly through his fingers, prying into the corners.
They bulge so interestingly, and make you an awfuller sight than all the rest of your funny things together," she replied, laughing at him. Successful at last, she produced the Browning pistol which Melchard had surrendered on the Roman road. "But it bumped horribly when I walked and it would always knock the same place on my knee. Oh, Dick, shall we ever get into clothes that'll feel nice again?"
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