"Yes," said Leger with an impressive quietness. "And Hetty has only me.
Still, one must do what he feels he has to."
"But you can't leave Hetty--and what would happen to her if you
were----"
"If I were in jail?" and Leger's face went awry. "She would be turned
out of her berth to a certainty. It didn't quite strike me until you put
the thing before me. There's the lad's mother too. A little horrible,
isn't it? How long does one usually get for manslaughter?"
Again there was silence save for Ingleby's groan. Democratic
aspirations were very well as subjects for discussion, but now that he
was brought face to face with the results of attempting to realize them,
they appalled him. He did not remember that usually very little worth
the having can be obtained without somebody's getting hurt; and it would
have afforded him no great consolation if he had remembered, since, for
the time being, he had had quite enough of theories. Then he made a
little abrupt gesture.
"Tom," he said, "what dolts we are! The thing is perfectly simple. You
have only to come out with me, and the fact that you've made a bolt of
it will be quite enough to divert suspicion from the other man."
"There is a difficulty. Steamboat fares cost money, and I'm not sure
Hetty and I have five pounds in the treasury."
Ingleby laughed almost light-heartedly. "I think I have enough to take
us all out at the cheapest rates, and you must let me lend it to you, if
only to prove that what you believe in isn't an impracticable fancy."
Leger slowly straightened himself. "I don't want to be ungracious--but
it's a difficult thing to do. The money's yours--and you'd have nothing
left."
Ingleby laid a hand on his shoulder, and gripped it hard. "Are you
willing to see your sister cast adrift to save your confounded pride?
The fact that she has a relative undergoing penal servitude isn't much
of a recommendation to a girl who has to earn her bread. Besides, like a
good many of us, you're not logical. You thought you had a claim on
Esmond's property."
There was a light step on the stairway, and he stopped suddenly.
"There's Hetty," he said. "We'll leave it to her."
The door swung open, and the girl came in gasping, with horror in her
eyes.
"Oh," she said, "its awful! They've come in with the wagonettes, and
Harry told me. How did it happen?"
"Sit down," said Ingleby gently. "Tom will explain."
Leger did so concisely, and Hetty clenched the chair-arm hard as she
listened to him. Still, young as she was, she held herself in hand, and
sat very still, with the colour ebbing from her face.
"What shall we do?" she said.
"Ingleby has asked us to go out to Canada with him. He offers to lend us
the money."
The girl's face flushed suddenly, and she glanced at Ingleby, who
appeared embarrassed.
"How much will you have left if you do that?" she asked.
"I don't know yet. Anyway, it doesn't matter. If you make any silly
objections, Hetty, Tom will go to jail."
The girl turned to her brother, with the crimson still in her cheek and
her lips quivering, and it suddenly struck Ingleby that she was really
remarkably pretty, though that appeared of no great moment just then.
"That would happen, Tom?" she said.
"Yes," said Leger quietly; "I believe it would."
Hetty turned again, and looked at Ingleby with a curious intentness.
"You are quite sure you want us?"
Ingleby, moved by an impulse he did not understand, caught and held fast
one of her hands. "Hetty," he said, "aren't we old friends? There is
nobody I would sooner take with me, but we shall certainly quarrel if
you ask me a question of that kind again."
The girl's expression perplexed him, and with a sudden movement she drew
her hand away. "Well," she said, "we will come. I would stay--only I
know Tom would not go without me; but whatever happens we will pay you
back the money."
"I don't think you want to be unpleasant, Hetty," said Ingleby. "Anyway,
you have only about an hour in which to get ready, because if we're not
off by the next train it's quite likely that we shall not have the
opportunity for going at all. Get what you want together, and meet us
behind the booking office on the main line platform. Tom and I will
take the back way to the station."
Hetty turned and went out without a word, and Leger looked at his
companion.
"I don't think she meant to hurt you, but what she did mean exactly is a
good deal more than I understand," he said.
Ingleby made a little impatient gesture. "I don't suppose it matters.
Girls seem to have curious fancies. In the meanwhile it might be as well
if we made a start. I'll lend you a decent jacket, and, as you had a cap
on, it would be advisable to take my straw hat. To carry out the same
notion I'll slip on my one dark suit. They usually make a point of
mentioning one's clothes."
They were ready in about ten minutes, but when they had descended the
long stairway Ingleby stopped in the dingy hall, and stood still a
moment irresolute.
"If it wasn't for the harpy downstairs we might get clear away before
anybody was aware that we had gone," he said. "I can't leave her what I
owe her either, for one never does seem to have change when he wants it.
How much have you got on you?"
"A handful of copper," said Leger, with a little grim smile.
Ingleby appeared to reflect. "I could send her the few shillings from
wherever we stop."
"The Post Office people obligingly stamp every envelope with the name of
the place it comes from. I don't think we want to leave a trail behind
us."
Ingleby stood still a moment longer with a flush in his face. "Nothing
would stop that woman's talking--not even a gag. It's horribly
unfortunate."
"It usually is," and Leger looked at him with a curious little smile.
"The worst of having a propaganda is that the people who haven't any get
indignant when one doesn't live up to it. They naturally lay part of
the blame on the fallacies he believes in."