"
"I will not," he cries, with a scream of rage. "'Who are you to
order my goings?"
"No matter as to that: we will see where the right lies when we get
to the town. And since I have no wish to cheat the hangman, I will
tie my kerchief round your arm."
He raged and swore at me as I made the bandage, but was helpless,
and soon I had him riding at a foot pace in front of me, he knowing
very well that he could not escape, wounded as he was, without risk
of being thrown from his horse.
I had a comfortable sense of satisfaction as I rode behind him, my
eyes fixed on his back. He had much to answer for, and any one of
his crimes would send him to the plantations. Then I remembered
that he was Lawyer Vetch's nephew, and thought of the good old
man's grief when he should see his flesh and blood in the felon's
dock. And the idea came to me that by merely holding over him the
threat of punishment for his undoubted villainies we might draw
from him a confession of what we only suspected--his theft of my
father's will. I did not reflect for the moment that Mr. Allardyce
would have something to say in that matter, and already saw myself
reinstated in my father's property (though I meant to cleave to my
new profession), when suddenly I noticed that Vetch was swaying in
the saddle. Thinking him overcome with faintness from his wound, I
cantered up to assist him, but just as I reached him he suddenly
pulled his horse across the road, and I saw a pistol in his left
hand.
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