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Updated: June 15, 2025
And when the story came to its end he spoke with decision, spoke, too, just as Brereton expected he would, making no comment, offering no opinion, but going straight to the really critical thing. "There are only two things to be done," said Tallington. "They're the only things that can be done. We must send for Bent, and tell him. Then we must get Cotherstone here, and tell him.
"You, young Tom Tallington, pass me that theer boocket." Tom lifted the bucket, which stood at the side, covered over with some old pieces of netting, and placed it between Dave's knees in the spot from which he removed the basket. "Now you can both hev a look," he said with a sly glance from one to the other. "Hey, little boys, then; hey, little boys: back yow go!"
"I don't know," said Dick one day as he stood with his arms folded, leaning upon Solomon, talking to Tom Tallington and staring at Thorpeley the constable, who was leaning against a post smoking and staring with one eye at the fen, while with the other he watched the group of three in the Toft farm-yard. "Well, I'm sure I don't," said Tom. "He never goes over to the town to buy any."
"No, father," said Dick, meeting his eyes boldly. "I couldn't." "There, Marston," said the squire; "and I will not insult Tom Tallington by accusing him." "Oh, no, father! we were together all the time." "But I say," cried Tom, "old Dave said it was a chap in skates who set fire to his place, and he couldn't follow him over the ice." "Yes; I'd forgotten," cried Dick, "and he shot at him."
Tallington suddenly began to drum his fingers on the blotting-pad which lay in front of him. From this point he watched Cotherstone with an appearance of speculative interest which was not lost on Brereton. "Ah!" he remarked quietly. "You were Mallalieu's or Mallows' catspaw? That is he was the really guilty party in the Wilchester affair, of Which that's an account?"
For some time no impression whatever appeared to be made, but no one thought of leaving his position; the squire and those nearest to him were black and covered with perspiration, their faces shining in the brilliant light, and the leader was still emptying the buckets of water, when Farmer Tallington ran up to him. "Let me give you a rest now," he cried. "Nay, neighbour, I'll go on."
At a distance it might have been taken for a hail; but a fine heron standing heel-deep in the shallow water took it to be a cry to scare him, so spreading his great flap wings, and stooping so as to get a spring, he flew slowly off with outstretched legs, while the squire and Farmer Tallington looked back to see if they had been called. "What are you laughing at?" said Tom angrily.
"No," he said; "I'm no baby now. All this has made a man of me, and Tom Tallington is right; we must go and begin life somewhere else where the world will not be so hard."
"Then if it was me," said Myler, "I should make a summary of what I knew, on paper carefully and I should get a private interview with this Tallington and tell him all. Man! you're safe of that five hundred! For there's no doubt, Stoner, on the evidence, no doubt whatever!" Stoner sat silently reflecting things for a while. Then he gave his friend a sly, somewhat nervous look.
And now the excitement and confusion died out as the fire sank lower. The women returned to the house, and the men, under the farmer's direction, carried back the household treasures, while Mrs Tallington, with the common sense of an old-fashioned farmer's wife, spread a good breakfast in the kitchen for the refreshment of all. It was a desolate scene at daybreak upon which all gazed.
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