Adrien Leroy Part 27

But he was no match for Adrien, who beneath all his listless mannerism possessed a grasp of steel and the strength of a gladiator. Almost shuddering at the touch of the man's greasy clothes, Leroy seized his arms, and lifting him off the ground as though he were a terrier, gave him a good shake; then he dropped him, lightly and easily, over the park railings, which edged the by-path, where they stood.

Johann Wilfer was too astonished for a moment to do anything but recover his breath, and Leroy, settling his disarranged cuffs, walked calmly away.

With a furious oath Wilfer sprang up, jumped back over the railings, and was about to pursue Leroy, when from behind him a hand was put on his collar, and he was borne rapidly and silently to the ground.

Meanwhile, Adrien, all unconscious of his deliverance from further disturbance, pursued his way to the theatre.

CHAPTER XVIII

Mr. Johann Wilfer glared vengefully at the smooth face of his a.s.sailant, and, struggling still, breathed out, with a choice a.s.sortment of oaths, the question:

"Who are you? What do you want?"

"Questions we will leave for the present, my friend," was the reply.

"Are you going to struggle much longer? because if so, I shall be under the painful necessity of using still greater force."

Mr. Wilfer lessened his movements.

"Ah!" continued the suave voice. "So you decide to take things quietly.

Wise man! Now have the goodness to rise and let me see to whom I have the pleasure of speaking."

Whereupon our friend, Mr. Jasper Vermont, released Johann's throat from the pressure of his knee--for it was by this means he had controlled the other's movements--and allowed him to rise to his feet. It was a very sullen and altogether puzzled individual that stood waiting, uncertain whether to listen to his captor's next words or to make his escape.

Jasper eyed him as a cat does a mouse, on the watch for the slightest attempt to move.

"So!" he said, as he took out his cigar-case, and drew forth one of Leroy's choice Regalias. "So! Now we are on our feet again, we look--well, I must say, none the less a ruffian."

The man turned savagely as if about to run away, but Jasper was too quick for him; with a grip of steel he caught hold of the other's arm.

"Not so fast," he said quietly. "What is your name, my friend?"

"What's that to you?" queried Mr. Wilfer naturally enough, as he settled his ragged scarf, which, during the struggle, had become uncomfortably tightened.

"That is my affair," replied his opponent politely; "perhaps it is merely curiosity. But as a matter of fact, I think I have had the pleasure of meeting you before, and I never like to forget old friends."

Mr. Wilfer grunted.

"Come, let me think," Vermont continued, "were you ever at Canterbury?"

Mr. Wilfer started violently.

"Ah! I am on the right track. Yes, I remember now; it was a little inn in the summer time, a beautiful moonlight night."

"Wasn't me," snarled Wilfer, though his face was pale.

"I thought you were there," said his tormentor as cheerfully and triumphantly as if the other had admitted it. "You're not a good liar,"

he continued. "If a man can't do that sort of thing well, he'd better stick to the truth. At a little inn in Canterbury. Yes, I remember it all now. I'm glad my memory does not play me tricks." His grasp tightened on Wilfer's sleeve. "I don't like tricks," he purred. "How strange that we should meet again. I think at that time you were an artist; yes, that is what you called yourself, and there was a pretty little girl with you, and you called her your wife. Oh, yes, my friend, you were good at 'calling' things."

"Look here," growled Wilfer, getting his word in at last. "You just stow it, I don't know you----"

"No, I know you don't," said his companion imperturbably, "But you will; oh, yes, you will! Let us go back to Canterbury, where you manufactured such beautiful pictures."

Wilfer moved uneasily.

"Beautiful pictures," continued the mocking voice, "all by Rubens and Raphael and t.i.tian. I shouldn't be surprised if that was one of yours I saw at the Countess of Merivale's to-day, the 'Portrait of a gentleman,'

sold for 300 pounds. There was a warranty with it, signed, sealed and delivered by a Mr. Johann Wilfer."

"I didn't, it wasn't," the man stuttered, his face almost green in hue, his voice trembling with anger and fear.

Mr. Vermont smiled. He had his man safe and sound.

"Who the fiend are you?" commenced Wilfer, recovering himself; but Vermont's smooth voice interrupted him.

"I was right, I see! What a strange coincidence, Mr. Wilfer, that I should see your really admirable Rubens in the afternoon, and run against--or perhaps I should say, knock you down--in the evening."

Mr. Wilfer was goaded to desperation.

"Look here," he almost shouted, "I don't care if you're the old 'un himself; but that's enough of your jaw. What's your game anyhow? S'pose you did see me in a pub at Canterbury along of a young party, s'pose I am an artist, an' I did sell an old master, that ain't no business of yours; that don't give you the right to knock me down or interfere with me, so now then!"

"Finished?" inquired Vermont, pleasantly. "I quite agree with you, Mr.

Wilfer--on some points; but it is greatly my business, as you will see.

Had I not come up at that moment, I wonder if my friend would be as safe as he is now."

"Your friend," echoed the other. "Is Mr. Adrien Leroy your friend?"

"He is indeed," replied Jasper with a grin. "Now suppose you tell me what you two gentleman were discussing."

"Suppose I don't?" retorted Wilfer insolently. "You find out for yourself, if you're so clever, Mr. Know-all; I'm off." He tried to push past Vermont and thus effect his escape; but he was not to get off so lightly.

Jasper removed his cigar, which he had been puffing, and dropping his soft, mocking tone, said sternly:

"Stand back; go and sit on that bench. I haven't done with you yet, Johann Wilfer."

"I shan't," was that worthy's prompt answer.

"Then I shall call the police," returned Vermont, pulling out his silver cab-whistle.

Wilfer started back.

"Call 'em," he said defiantly. "I don't care. What's the police to me, as I should be scared of 'em?"

"A great deal," was the calm answer. "If you are mad enough to disobey me, I shall whistle for the police; they will find me struggling with a most villainous-looking ruffian, whom I instantly give in charge for a.s.sault and robbery of my dear friend, Mr. Leroy, who has gone in search of a.s.sistance."

"It's all a lie," shouted Wilfer furiously.