Fall of a Great Reputation
"But I saw him!" I cried. "Look in front of you. Is that Wimpole? It's the old man.… What are you doing? What are we to do?"
"Keep running," said Grant.
Running soon brought us up to the broad back of the pompous old baronet, whose white whiskers shone silver in the fitful lamplight. My brain was utterly bewildered. I grasped nothing.
"Charlie," said Basil, hoarsely, "can you believe in my common-sense for four minutes?"
"Of course," I said, panting.
"Then help me to catch that man in front and hold him down. Do it at once when I say 'Now.' Now!"
We sprang on Sir Walter Cholmondeliegh, and rolled that portly old gentleman on his back. He fought with a commendable valor, but we got him tight. I had not the remotest notion why. He had a splendid and full-blooded vigor; when he could not box he kicked, and we bound him; when he could not kick he shouted, and we gagged him.
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