Death and the Arrow Read Online Free PDF

maid’s heart a little. “He’s at the coffee house,” she said after a moment’s pause. “Now on your way, or I shall fetch a constable!”
    But Tom was already running. A toothless old watchman shouted out to him to stop, but Tom ran on through the fine drizzle that polished the cobbled streets.
    He knew that something must be terribly wrong for Will to talk that way. He just wasn’t the sort to say a thing like that without good cause. Tom ran as if in a kind of trance, unable to think of anything but an overriding need to help his friend.
    He could not ask his father for help—he could not even tell his father—but he was sure that Dr. Harker would come to his aid, that Dr. Harker would know what to do. As he ran, he said this to himself in time with his feet on the pavement. “The doctor will know what to do, the doctor will know what to do. . . .”
    Tom almost fell into the coffee shop, gasping for breath. When he looked over to the fire, he saw Dr. Harker in his usual place. Sitting next to him was Mr. Marlowe.
    “Tom, lad,” said his father. “What are you doing here at this time?”
    “I . . . I . . .” stammered Tom, looking back and forth between the two men. He almost ran out again.
    “Come on, sit yourself down and spit it out,” laughed his father. “What’s troubling you?”
    Tom sat down and stared down into his lap, fighting back tears.
    “Tom?” said Dr. Harker, seeing there really was something very wrong.
    Tom hung his head and began to sob. “It’s Will . . . ,” he began, choking as he spoke.
    “Will?”
shouted his father.
    “Mr. Marlowe, I thought we had agreed that—” interrupted Dr. Harker, but Tom’s father put his hand up to stop him. He lowered his voice and turned back to Tom.
    “Have I not strictly forbidden you to talk to that— that filthy little jackdaw?” he asked solemnly. “Must you go against me at every turn?”
    “But, Father—”
    “Have I not
strictly forbidden it
?” he asked again.
    “Yes, but—” Tom began again.
    “Give me the watch, Tom,” said his father quietly, holding out his hand.
    Tom looked at his father, then at Dr. Harker, then back to his father once more. “But—”
    “Give me that watch!”
his father yelled, banging his fist on the table and attracting the attention of everyone in the room.
    “Mr. Marlowe,
please!
” said Dr. Harker.
    Tom’s father nodded, raised his hand briefly in apology, and continued in a lower voice once more. “I gave you that watch as a sign of how I’ve come to depend on you, son. To show how much I trust you and—”
    “Please don’t,” said Tom. “I’m sorry I went against you, Father, but Will’s my friend. And he’s in trouble.”
    “Friend? Trouble?
Trouble?
Of course the little rogue’s in trouble. He’ll be in trouble till the day he chokes at Tyburn!”
    “Don’t say that!” shouted Tom, getting to his feet. His eyes were wild and his fists were clenched.
    “You dare shout at me?” said Tom’s father in amazement. “You dare . . .”
    “Gentlemen, please . . . ,” said Dr. Harker, making calming gestures with his hands.
    “You dare shout at me?” repeated his father, standing up himself. “Are these the manners your so-called friend has taught you? You dare to go against me? To take that wretch’s side against your own kin!”
    “I’d rather count Will a friend than all the Purneys in this world.”
    “What the raging inferno has Purney got to do with anything?” shouted his father. “Purney can go to hell for all I care, and I daresay shall. . . .” He suddenly realized what he was saying and turned to see several customers nodding with approval. “Purney’s no friend of mine!” he said finally, turning back to Tom.
    “But Will
is
a friend of mine. And I’ll not desert him!” shouted Tom.
    Tom’s father, his face turning gradually purple, opened his mouth to speak but was cut short by the crash of the coffee-shop door as the newsboy rushed