Leger was paler than usual, as well as breathless and very dusty, when
he flung himself down in a dilapidated arm-chair in Ingleby's room. The
window was open, for it was very hot, and Ingleby, who stood near it,
appeared to be listening intently to the patter of feet that came up
from the narrow street, until he moved forward and laid his hand upon
the sash. Then Leger laughed hollowly.
"I don't think that's necessary, and I wish you would leave it as it is
just now," he said. "Considering that you live on the fourth story
they're scarcely likely to come in that way."
"I did it without thinking," said Ingleby, who turned to him a trifle
flushed in face. "You're looking faint. I can get you some
water--fortunately it's cheap."
"I'll be all right in a minute or two," and Leger made a little
deprecatory gesture. "I'm not sure I ever made four miles quite so fast
before, and the blow I got from that fellow's dog-whip, the handle end,
must have shaken me. Never mind the water."
Ingleby sat down, a trifle limply, and, unconscious of the fact that his
own clothes were badly torn, gazed at his companion. Leger's dusty
disarray heightened the effect of his pallor, and his hair, dank with
perspiration, lay smeared upon his forehead, while there was a big
discoloured bruise upon one cheek. They had come home across the meadow
and through the woodland instead of by the road, and neither of them
remembered how many hedges and thickets they had scrambled through,
since the one thing apparent was the advisability of escaping attention.
"We made an excellent pace," Ingleby said. "I scarcely think that the
others can have got here yet. They hadn't the same necessity for haste.
Still, I'm almost afraid it was wasted energy. You see, the police
wouldn't be very long in tracing us."
"I don't suppose so. That big military-looking fellow meant to make sure
of me. No doubt he'll send a groom over with our description. He seemed
to recognize you, too."
Ingleby rose abruptly and leaned against the mantel with his lips firmly
set. It was several moments before he spoke again.
"I think he did," he said. "In fact, I'd have done almost anything
sooner than have had this happen; though that doesn't matter now.
There's a more important question--and it has to be faced."
They looked at each other in silence for a second or two, and both their
faces were very grim with the shadow of fear in them. They were young,
and shrank from the contemplation of what it seemed had been done. The
thing was horrible in itself, quite apart from the consequences, which
promised to be disastrous.
"You mean," said Leger very quietly, "is he dead?"
Ingleby made a little gesture, and once more for almost a minute the
heavy silence was intensified by the ticking of his watch and the sounds
in the street below. Both of them listened intently, almost expecting to
hear the tramp of heavy feet upon the stairway.
"Heaven forbid!" said Ingleby, a trifle hoarsely. "Still, he looked
horribly like it. There's just one thing of which I should like to be
quite certain."
"Of course!" and Leger met his comrade's gaze. "Suppose I told you I did
it, would it separate us?"
"No," said Ingleby. "You know that. It might have been I; and, anyway,
we were both in the thing."
"Then, as you supposed, the military man was mistaken. I had nothing in
my hands, and never even reached him."
Ingleby, in spite of his protestations, drew a deep breath of relief,
but Leger, who appeared to be recovering now, smiled.
"Well," he said, "you're satisfied, but it doesn't in the least affect
the position. You see, the military gentleman appeared certain he saw me
strike the blow, and I scarcely think my word would go very far against
his with the usual kind of jury."
"You know who did it?"
Leger smiled curiously. "I do, but you ought to understand that the fact
isn't of much use to me."
"You mean?"
"I could plead not guilty, but I couldn't point out the man responsible.
You see, I induced him to join the Society, and gave him the American's
pamphlets--I believe the more virulent ones. They seemed to make a
strong impression on him. One can't well back out of his
responsibility--especially when the adversary is always ready to make
the most of the opportunity. Besides, the man has a family."