[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

blood of manhood and liberty . . . not the democratic ideal . .
."
He sprang up in excitement, and at the same
moment a growl of thunder came through the grating
beyond. The storm had broken, and with it a new
light broke on his mind. There was something else
that might happen in a moment.
"Do you know what that means?" he cried. "It
means that God himself may hold a candle to show
me your infernal face."
Then next moment came a crash of thunder; but
before the thunder a white light had filled the whole
room for a single split second.
Fisher had seen two things in front of him. One
was the black-and-white pattern of the iron grating
against the sky; the other was the face in the corner.
It was the face of his brother.
Nothing came from Horne Fisher's lips except a
Christian name, which was followed by a silence
more dreadful than the dark. At last the other figure
stirred and sprang up, and the voice of Harry Fisher
was heard for the first time in that horrible room.
"You've seen me, I suppose," he said, "and we
may as well have a light now. You could have turned
it on at any time, if you'd found the switch."
He pressed a button in the wall and all the details
of that room sprang into something stronger than
daylight. Indeed, the details were so unexpected
that for a moment they turned the captive's
rocking mind from the last personal
revelation. The room, so far from being a
dungeon cell, was more like a drawing-room,
even a lady's drawing-room, except for some boxes of
cigars and bottles of wine that were stacked with
books and magazines on a side
table. A second glance showed him that the
more masculine fittings were quite recent, and
that the more feminine background was quite
old. His eye caught a strip of faded tapestry,
which startled him into speech, to the momentary oblivion of
bigger matters.
"This place was furnished from the great house,"
he said.
"Yes," replied the other, "and I think you
know why."
"I think I do," said Horne Fisher, "and before I go
on to more extraordinary things I will, say what I
think. Squire Hawker played both the bigamist and the bandit. His
first wife was not dead when he married the Jewess; she was
imprisoned on this island. She bore him a child here,
who now haunts his birthplace under the name of
Long Adam. A bankruptcy company promoter
named Werner discovered the secret and
blackmailed the squire into surrendering the estate.
That's all quite clear and very easy.
And now let me go on to something more difficult.
And that is for you to explain what the devil you are
doing kidnaping your born brother.
After a pause Henry Fisher answered:
"I suppose you didn't expect to see me," he said.
"But, after all, what could you expect?"'
"I'm afraid I don't follow," said Horne Fisher.
"I mean what else could you expect, after making
such a muck of it?" said his brother, sulkily. "We all
thought you were so clever. How could we know you
were going to be--well, really, such a rotten failure?"
"This is rather curious," said the candidate,
frowning. "Without vanity, I was not under the
impression that my candidature was a failure. All the
big meetings were successful and crowds of people
have promised me votes."
"I should jolly well think they had," said' Henry,
grimly. "You've made a landslide with your
confounded acres and a cow, and Verner can hardly
get a vote anywhere. Oh, it's too rotten for anything!"
"What on earth do you mean?"
"Why, you lunatic," cried Henry, in tones of ringing
sincerity, "you don't suppose you were meant to WIN
the seat, did you? Oh, it's too childish! I tell you
Verner's got to get in. Of course he's got to get in.
He's to have the Exchequer next session, and there's
the Egyptian loan and Lord knows what else. We
only wanted you to split the Reform vote because
accidents might happen after Hughes had made a
score at Barkington."
"I see," said Fisher, "and you, I think, are a pillar
and ornament of the Reform party. As you say, I am
not clever."
The appeal to party loyalty fell on deaf ears; for
the pillar of Reform was brooding on other things. At
last he said, in a more troubled voice:
"I didn't want you to catch me; I knew it would be
a shock. But I tell you what, you never would have
caught me if I hadn't come here myself, to see they
didn't ill treat you and to make sure everything was
as comfortable as it could be." There was even a sort [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

  • zanotowane.pl
  • doc.pisz.pl
  • pdf.pisz.pl
  • lastella.htw.pl