It seemed that his efforts at turning the natures of the inhabitants of the boarding house around had been for naught.
In only an instant, they had turned on Stasia.
As he pulled Stasia behind him, standing in front of her like a shield against the inhabitants of Belle Vue Hotel - shielding her against the men and women that were almost frothing at the mouth as they raved and shouted - he felt a tinge of concern at how the situation was developing. They were like wild dogs whipped into a frenzy, salivating at the mouth at the opportunity to take their anger and frustration at their lives out on the nearest target - deserving or not.
Mr. Wright had been the one who deserved to be the target of their fury - although it was rather late for that now. He had slipped the ring onto Stasia's finger, he had tried to draw the young girl into a kiss that she did not wish to reciprocate, and the poor girl had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time when Mr. Wright was killed by a burglar, leaving her present at the scene of the crime. He couldn't say he felt even a shred of remorse about the man's fate but it was Stasia whom he worried for. He had slipped the ring from her finger, dropping it in his pocket as he gave her a long look that communicated much more than words ever could, before he opened the door to allow the murder to be revealed to the rest of the inhabitants of the boarding house. Nevertheless, him removing and hiding the ring did nothing to stop them from hurling accusations at the poor girl.
They crowded around them, pushing and shoving as they tried to grab at Stasia, tried to search her pockets and her clothes.
"Go, Stasia, go hide in my room until they calm down," he pushed her towards the stairs, holding his arm out as Mrs. de Hooley stepped forward to interpret the landlady, allowing Stasia to slip into the stairway and escape upstairs to the safety of the room on the third floor back. As he turned to face the crowd again, he could see that their focus (and their rage) was shifting onto him, "ladies and gentlemen, you must see reason! You have no evidence of Miss Stasia stealing the ring. You have no evidence that it was even stolen at all, perhaps it was misplaced like Mrs. Sharpe's brooch."
"She's a no good delinquent!" Mrs. Sharpe cried out, in a similar state of distress as when she had accused poor Stasia of stealing her brooch only a few days prior, "she probably sold it! She's a little rat and a thief!"
"We should call the police!" Major Tomkin's wife fretted, clutching her hands to her chest, "She'll be arrested for the thievery!"
"Well, he was also in the room!" Vivian pointed out as she cast an accusing finger towards him, the young woman's eyes wide with the group hysteria that had enveloped the Inhabitants of the boarding house, "maybe he stole the ring! We don't know him!"
"Yeah!" Major Tomkin marched forward to shove an accusing finger under his nose, "where did you come from? Why did you come to this boarding house? To steal Mr. Wright's riches, of course!"
"No," he protested, "you must calm yourself! I would do nothing of the sort."
His denial did nothing to soothe them, and they pressed close, hands grabbing onto his lapels, shoes stomping his toes, rage and violent intentions present on each face.
He had wanted to change their natures, or rather, he had wanted to influence them to change their natures for themselves, but they had reverted to their previously miserable natures the very second something caused them an upset.
Was that the human nature? To put on a facade of kindness and happiness only to strip it away to reveal the base feelings of selfishness and violence the second kindness didn't get what was desired?
They surrounded him, outnumbering him, and he had no option other than to just take the beating. He could only hope that they would find him a sufficient target to take their anger out on - he could only hope Stasia would remain untouched.
He only stood through a few punches and kickes - thrown from all of the inhabitants, the men and women seemingly forgetting about the kindness and friendship he had shown them over the past three days - and quickly ended up on the ground, curled into ball as fists rained down, as shoes were driven into his sides.
With a strong kick from Major Tomkin - no doubt angered by the death of Wright, by the death of what he saw as a potential payday, he was thrown onto his side, his coat falling open. He felt the ring slip from his pocket, audibly falling to the floor and bouncing along the floor before rolling to a stop at the feet of Mrs. Sharpe.
"I found it!" Mrs. Sharpe cried out, crouching down to pick up the piece of jewelry, "He had the ring!"
They all laughed and jeered over him, passing the ring around as they examined it, lifting it up to the light to see the gems glitter and gleam. Greed was present in each of their faces as they took in the item of expensive jewelry that had the power to turn their fortunes around.
As his consciousness faded, and the group left him crumpled on the floor as they dispersed to return back to their usual activities of self-pitying and arrogance, he thought only of his thankfulness that it had been him instead of the sweet housemaid that had been a light in the darkness that dwelled within the inhabitants of the boarding house.
Stasia had been the pure soul who had called him to the boarding house - of course, unknowingly - and it had been his duty to protect her from the scum which surrounded her.