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Updated: May 22, 2025
"What about that fellow who stopped me on Rushmere Heath and then turned up in Brindisi? Can he have something to do with it?" "Now you're talking, Jack," said Risley, nodding at the young man. "'Twas all runnin' through my mind. It all hangs together, as straight as a gun." Buck knitted his brows in deep thought, and stared into the fire. Mr.
Once more he felt his throat in the frightful strangling grip which had seized him on Rushmere Heath, in far-away England. He tried to shout, but his half-choked voice was drowned in the sudden burst of song which rose from the band of gaily dressed figures which now swarmed around him.
We saw no sign of them on the road, so they must have slipped away over the heath, very probably as soon as they heard the sound of wheels in the distance. Now, Haydon, jump up at the back of the trap. The cob will soon run us up to the constable's cottage in Rushmere." All three climbed into the Colonel's dog-cart, and away went the brown cob at a slashing pace for Rushmere.
Lawrence, the headmaster of Rushmere School, bending over him. Near at hand stood Colonel Keppel, a gentleman residing in the neighbourhood. The Colonel had been driving Dr. Lawrence back from Longhampton, and his trap stood close by. At the present moment the Colonel held a hat from which water was dripping. He had fetched it from a pool near at hand.
He was alone, and he swung along at a cracking pace, for he could walk as well as he could run, and a finer three-quarter had never been known at Rushmere. He was a tall, powerful lad, nearly nineteen years of age, five foot ten and a half inches in his stockings, and turning the scale at twelve stone five.
He made short work of his packing, and within an hour he was driving to Longhampton to catch the London express. He caught it with scarcely two minutes to spare, and was soon whirling towards the great city. A short distance from Longhampton, he caught a glimpse of Rushmere School in the distance on its hill, and the strip of heath country running up to the foot of the slope.
Jack had known the fellow at once, had recognised him instantly as the small, dark man who had stood in front of him upon Rushmere Heath and demanded that he should produce his father's letter. An instant conviction had darted into Jack's mind that these things were connected, and that this man knew something of his father's disappearance.
He's mixed up in it from first to last, that's plain enough, by his showing up at Rushmere and then followin' Jack to Brindisi as he must have done. What brought him trackin' us all this way if he didn't know about the big ruby and was in with the gang that's carried off the Professor?" "But why are you so sure that they have carried Tom Haydon off, Risley?" asked Mr. Buxton. "Perhaps they " Mr.
Eighty years before it had been a famous coaching road, along which the galloping teams had whirled the mails, but now it had fallen into decay, and was little used except by people passing from Rushmere to Longhampton. A mile from the school it ran across a lonely, unenclosed piece of heath, the side of the way being bordered by clumps of holly, thorn, and furze.
The figure was drawing aside the muslin veil from its head. As the soft shimmering folds of the delicate wrapper slipped away, Jack's heart leaped within him. He knew that face. This was no dancing girl. It was the half-caste in disguise. It was Saya Chone, the man who had stopped him on Rushmere Heath, the man who had slipped out of his clutch at Brindisi.
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