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Updated: June 15, 2025
Christopher Pett was surprised when, in the gathering dusk of the afternoon, the inquest came to an end with a verdict of Wilful Murder against Anthony Mallalieu. "Your client is doing very well," observed Tallington to the Norcaster solicitor as they foregathered in an ante-room. "My client will be still better when he comes before your bench again," drily answered the other. "As you'll see!"
"You, Tom Tallington, why are you there?" "Tell him, Tom," said Dick in a low voice. "Speak out, sir," cried the squire. "What are you whispering there, Dick?" "I was asking him to tell you, father," faltered Dick; for their being caught like this a second time, and the feeling that he was suspected, troubled the lad sorely at that moment. "Once more, then, my lad," said the squire.
But, soundly as Tom Tallington slept, the scriggly legs of a beetle were rather too much when they began to work in his ear, and he started up and brushed the creature away, the investigating insect falling on the floor with a sharp rap.
"Now," said the squire, "I don't like for there to be anything between us, Dick; and as for you, Tom Tallington, I should be sorry to think anything about you but that you were a frank, straightforward companion for my son." "I'm sure, sir " blundered out Tom. "Wait a minute, my lad. I have not done. Now, I'm going to ask you a plain question, both of you, and I want a frank, manly answer.
If he should draw trigger, rush in and seize him before he has time to reload, and then, with no more violence than is necessary, let him be bound." "Well," said Farmer Tallington, "perhaps you're reight neighbour; and as long as he is punished I don't know as I mind much how it's done."
"Come, I say, Mark, stick it on," cried Dick Winthorpe; "we want to go." "'Tarn't hot enough, my lad," said the great burly wheelwright, rolling his shirt sleeves a little higher up his brown arms. "Yes, it is," said Tom Tallington. "You can see it all red. Why don't you put it on cold, instead of burning the wood?" "'Cause he can't make one fit, and has to burn it on," said Dick.
Look here," he continued, taking a scrap of dirty paper out of his old pocket-book; "that bit of rubbish was stuck on one of the tines of a hay-fork, and the shaft driven into the ground in front of my door. I said nothing about it to you, but you see I've been threatened too." He handed the paper to Farmer Tallington, who read it slowly and passed it back. "Same man writ both, I should say."
"I dunno 'bout bad enew," said the big wheelwright; "but strikes me Farmer Tallington's right. That stack couldn't set itself afire, and get bont up wi'out some one striking a light!" "No, no!" said the squire. "I will not think such a thing of any neighbour for twenty miles round. Now, Mr Tallington, come over to my place and have a comfortable meal; Mrs Tallington will come too."
Meanwhile, as the burning stacks made the whole place light as day, Dick and Tom rushed in and out of the house, bringing everything of value upon which they could lay their hands, to pass their salvage to Mrs Tallington and the women, who stored them in a heap where they seemed safe from the flames.
Tom obeyed with alacrity and stepped on board, while in short decisive tones the squire spoke: "We will divide now, and approach on three sides. You, Marston, and you, Tallington, get well over so as to command a view all round, for this man must not escape." "Escape! No!" said Farmer Tallington fiercely. "If he is there, I don't think he will escape," said Mr Marston sternly.
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