"It's Mr Wooster. Antony, say I'm not at home. Say I've gone out.
Quick."
He pushed me towards the door, and I went to open it just as there were
three more heavy knocks, and on drawing back the fastening, there stood
Mr Wooster, the stout, tall, farmer-looking man, scowling and angry.
"Where's Mr Blakeford?" he cried, catching me fiercely by the collar,
and shaking a stout ash stick he carried.
"Please, sir--" I began.
"It's a lie!" he roared; "he's not out. Didn't he tell you to say he
was out?"
"Yes, sir," I faltered, and he strode straight in; and as I followed, I
saw him catch Mr Blakeford by the throat and pin him in his chair.
"Fetch the constable, Antony," cried Mr Blakeford. "Quick!"
"Stop where you are, you young dog," roared the farmer, "or I'll kill
you. Now, you scoundrel, what do you mean by seizing my goods, by
putting your rascally man in possession after promising me in this
office that you would never put me to any inconvenience?"
"If you have any complaint to make against me, Mr Wooster, employ your
solicitor," cried Mr Blakeford hoarsely.
"Hang your solicitor and the whole crew, you scoundrelly serpent!"
roared the farmer. "You've ruined me, as you ruined that poor boy's
father, and a score more before him."
"Antony--a constable--help!" cried Mr Blakeford, for he was yellow and
green with fear.
"If Antony Grace stirs, I'll crush him like I would a snail," cried the
farmer. "And now look here, you crawling snake; I trusted you because I
didn't believe any one could deliberately ruin another for the sake of a
few pounds."
"Mr Wooster, if you dare to strike me," cried the miserable coward, "I
shall proceed against you for assault."
"So you may," cried the farmer, with a bitter laugh; "and as you've got
every penny I had, much good may it do you. Look here, Blakeford; if I
knew that I should be transported for life to Botany Bay for what I'm
going to do, I'd do it now."
As he spoke, he spat in his hand, took a fresh grip of the ash stick,
and, in spite or Mr Blakeford's cries for help and mercy, he thrashed
him till the stick broke in pieces; and then, taking him by the collar
with both hands, he shook him till he was tired, and ended by throwing
him back in his chair.
"There!" cried the farmer; "now do your worst, you cheating scoundrel.
I'm satisfied; go and satisfy yourself, and much good may the money you
have stolen from the poor, the fatherless, and the widow do you."
As he said this he strode out of the office and banged the door.
I was half stunned with fear and horror, and I remember how thankful I
felt that I had seen Mrs Blakeford go out with Hetty half an hour
before. While the thrashing was going on Mary had opened the door and
looked in, but as if it were no business of hers, she had gone out
again, and I was left the sole spectator.
"Are you much hurt, sir?" I said in trembling tones as soon as we were
alone.
"Yes," he whispered hoarsely, and showing his teeth, "a good deal."
"Shall I get you something, sir?"
"Yes," he said, panting less hoarsely, "fetch that leather case out of
the passage."
I ran and fetched the heavy leather-covered box he meant, and placed it
beside him, watching him anxiously, to see if he were better.
"Now, fasten both the doors," he whispered, laying his hand upon his
breast to keep down the panting as he drew his breath more easily, and
wiped the perspiration from his face.