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Updated: June 15, 2025
Tallington listened with absorbed attention, his face growing graver and graver as Brereton marshalled the facts and laid stress on one point of evidence after another. He was a good listener a steady, watchful listener Brereton saw that he was not only taking in every fact and noting every point, but was also weighing up the mass of testimony.
"And so may my father be hurt," said Tom as soon as he was left alone; and he looked in the direction by which Farmer Tallington must approach the wood, but no one was visible there, and he ran rapidly after his companion and rejoined him just as he was following his father into the wood.
His imagination was so active that his face grew wet with horror, till, making an effort over himself, he started right up and angrily stamped his foot. "I didn't think I was such a coward," he said half aloud; and then, "I hope poor mother will not be very much alarmed, and I wish Tom Tallington was here!"
"That's true," said Farmer Tallington; "but when he gets a letter to say some one's going to kill him, and draws coffins on the paper, it's enough to mak' him look back." "It's all stuff, neighbour! Treat it as I do with contempt." "Ah! you see you're a gentleman, squire, and a bit of a scholar, and I'm only a plain man."
"I don't see any more to be proud of in your father than in mine," said Tom stoutly. "Your father wouldn't dare to go into that burning house like mine does. See there!" This was as Farmer Tallington rushed into the house again. Dick turned sharply upon his companion. "There isn't time to have it out now, Tom," he said in a whisper; "but I mean to punch your head for this, you ungrateful beggar.
Let the law deal with him. It is not our duty to punish him for the crimes." There was another low murmur here, but the squire paid no heed and went on: "In the first place, not a shot is to be fired." "Not if he shutes at us?" cried Farmer Tallington. "No: not even if he fires at any of us.
But if the constable was not badly wounded, though the injury caused by a bullet passing through his leg was an ugly one, the reputations of Dick Winthorpe and Tom Tallington had received such ugly wounds that their fathers found it difficult to get them cured.
"But I know who I think killed him!" "Who, then?" demanded Tallington. "The man who killed Bert Stoner," said Cotherstone firmly. "And for the same reason." "And this man is " Tallington left the question unfinished. For Cotherstone's alert face took a new and determined expression, and he raised himself a little in his chair and brought his lifted hand down heavily on the desk at his side.
"Then we must put it out," said the squire, as he busily ranged his men, and those of Farmer Tallington, so that they reached from the nearest point of the big drain to the corner of the farm, and in a double line, so that full buckets of water could be passed along one and returned empty along the other. "Hickathrift, you go and dip."
If you're wanting the truth, he came into our office that afternoon to pay his rent to me, and he told me then. And if you want more truth he tried to blackmail me. He was to come next day at four o'clock to hear what me and Mallalieu 'ud offer him for hush-money." "Then you told Mallalieu?" asked Tallington. "Of course I told him!" replied Cotherstone. "Told him as soon as Kitely had gone.
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