yourself,'' she said to John. ''Take Sue.''
But he did not go; and I knew—and know, still—that I wouldn''t have followed, if he had. I was held there, as if by a charm. I looked at Mr Ibbs. He had run to the wall beside his brazier and, as I watched, he drew out one of the bricks. I only found out later that he kept money there, privately, in an old cigarette box. He put the box inside his waistcoat. Then he began to look about him, at the china, the knives and forks, the ornaments on the shelves: he was looking to see what there might be, that he could be done for. He did not look at Gentleman or Mrs Sucksby. He did not look at me— once he came near me, and thrust me aside, to reach past me for a porcelain cup; and when he had got it he dashed it to the floor. When Charley Wag rose up and gave a strangled sort of bark, he kicked him.
Meanwhile, the sound of shouts and rattles grew close. Gentleman lifted his head. There was blood on his beard, on his cheek, at the corner of his eye.
''Do you hear that?'' he said weakly.
''Dear boy, I do,'' said Mrs Sucksby. She still knelt at his side.
''What sound is it?''
She put her red hands over his. ''The sound of Fortune,'' she said.
She looked at me, and then at Maud. ''You might run.''
I said nothing. Maud shook her head. ''Not from this,'' she answered. ''Not now.''
''You know what follows?''