The Burglar and the Blizzard: A Christmas Story | Page 8

amusing side. "Maybe I am, but that is not the point. Think of a girl,
Holland, alone, all night, in such a storm. Now, I put it to you: it is not
a position in which you would leave your sister, is it?"
Geoffrey began a sentence and finding it inadequate, contented himself
with a laugh.
"There you see," said McVay. "It's out of the question. The place is
draughty, too, though there is a stove. Do you remember the house at
all? You would be surprised to see how nicely I've fixed it up for her."
"No doubt I should," replied Holland, thinking of the Vaughan and
Marheim valuables.

"It is surprisingly livable, but it is draughty," McVay went on. "The
truth is I ought to have gone south, as I meant to do last week. But one
cannot foresee everything. The winters have been open until Christmas
so often lately. However, I made a mistake and I am perfectly willing to
rectify it. If you have no objection, I'll go and bring her back here."
"If you have any respect for your skin you won't move from that chair."
"Oh, the devil, Holland, don't be so--" he hesitated for the right word,
not wishing to be unjust,--"so obtuse. Listen to that wind! It's cold here.
Think what it must be in that shanty."
"Very unpleasant, I should think."
"More than that, more than that,--suffering, I have no doubt. Why, she
might freeze to death if anything went wrong with the fire. It is not safe.
It's a distinct risk to leave her. Let alone that a storm like this would
scare any girl alone in a place like that, there is some danger to her life.
Don't you see that?"
"Yes, I see," returned Geoffrey, "but you ought to have thought of that
before you came burgling in a blizzard."
"Thought of it! Of course I thought of it. But I had no idea whatever of
being caught, with old McFarlane laid up and the two boys away, it did
seem about the safest job yet."
There was a pause, for Geoffrey evidently had no intention of even
arguing the matter, and presently McVay continued:
"Now you know you would feel badly to-morrow morning if anything
went wrong with her, and you knew you could have helped it!"
"Helped it!" said Geoffrey. "What do you mean? Let you loose on the
county for the sake of a story no sane man would believe?"
"Well," returned McVay judicially, "perhaps you could not do that,
but," he added brightly, "you could go yourself."
"Yes," said Geoffrey, "I _could_--"
"Then I think you ought to be getting along."
"Upon my word, McVay," said Holland, "you are something of a
humorist, aren't you?"
McVay again looked puzzled, but rose to the occasion.
"Oh, hardly that," he said. "Every now and then I have a way of putting
things,--a way of my own. I find often I am able to amuse people, but if
you are cheerful yourself, you make other people so. I was just thinking
that it must be a great thing for men who have been in prison for years

to have some one come in with a new point of view."
"I'm sure you will be an addition to prison life. It's an ill wind, you
know."
"It's an ill wind for my sister, literally enough. Come, Holland, you
certainly can trust me. Do be starting."
"Why, what do you take me for?" said the exasperated Geoffrey. "Do
you really suppose that I am going, looking for a den of your
accomplices in order to give you a chance to escape?"
"'Accomplices!'" exclaimed McVay; and for the first time a shade of
anger crossed his brow; "'_accomplices'_! I have no accomplices.
Anything I do I think I am able to do alone. Still," he added putting
aside his annoyance, "if you feel nervous about leaving me I'd just as
lief give you my word of honour to stay here until you come back."
"Your _what_?"
McVay made a slight gesture of his shoulders, as if he were being a
good deal tried. "Oh, anything you like," he said. "I suppose you could
lock me up in a closet."
"I don't think we need trouble to arrange the details," said Geoffrey
drily. "But I'll tell you what I will do. After I get you safely in jail
to-morrow, I'll get a trap and go and look up this hut."
"It may be too late then."
"It may," said Geoffrey, and continued to read.
Yet he had no further satisfaction in his book. He knew that the burglar
kept casting meditative glances at him as if in wonder at such brutality,
and in truth, his own mind was not entirely at ease. If