Читать книгу Charles Peace, or The Adventures of a Notorious Burglar онлайн

41 страница из 895

“Don’t take on so, woman,” said the constable. “He’s only got his deserts.”

Heedless of this observation, Jane went close to the wounded burglar and peered into his face.

“Dost know who this here is? I’ll tell ye!” she exclaimed, in a voice of concentrated rage; “he’s the murderer of my sweetheart. I should ha’ known him out o’ ten thousand.”

There was a murmur of unmixed surprise at this observation.

“What beest thee saying, Jane?” said the farmer, scratching his head. “Hast ever seen ’im afore?”

“Aye, sure enough I have, master. It was not for nothing that I sat up this night. I knew summut was about to happen, but never guessed it would turn out like this.”

Gregson endeavoured to rise to his feet, but the attempt was a futile one; he was too weak from loss of blood.

“What has that false, wicked woman been saying?” he inquired of the policeman.

“She accuses you of murder,” was the brief rejoinder.

“She’s mad. I never saw her before.”

“What’s to be done wi’ this man?” inquired the farmer of the constable.

Правообладателям