CHAPTER FIVE.
A NIGHT OF ADVENTURES.
According to arrangement, David Laidlaw was taken the following eveningby his landlord, Mr Spivin, to see one of the low lodging-houses ofLondon.
Our adventurous Scot had often read and heard that some of the lowquarters of London were dangerous for respectable men to enter withoutthe escort of the police, but his natural courage and his thoroughconfidence in the strength of his bulky frame inclined him to smile atthe idea of danger. Nevertheless, by the advice of his new friend thelandlord, he left his watch and money, with the exception of a fewcoppers, behind him--carefully stowed under the pillow of his bed in hisshoulder-bag. For further security the door of his room was locked andthe key lung on a nail in an out-of-the-way corner, known only, as MrSpivin pointed out, to "their two selves."
"But hoo dis it happen, Mr Speevin," asked David, as they walked alongthe streets together, "that _ye_ can gang safely amang the thieveswithoot a polisman t' proteck ye?"
"Oh, as to that," replied the jolly landlord, "I'm connected with areligious society which sends agents down among them poor houtcasts toconvert 'em. They hall knows me, bless you. But I ain't a-goin' withyou myself. You see, I'm a very busy man, and engagements which I 'adforgotten prevents me, but I've made an arrangement with one o' theconverted thieves to take you to a few of the worst places in London.Of course he can pass you hevery where as one of his friends."
To this David made no reply, save with a slight "Humph!" as he lookedearnestly at his companion. But Mr Spivin wore an expression ofseraphic candour.
"Here he is," added the landlord, as they turned a corner and drew nearto a man in mean attire, who seemed to be waiting for some one. "He'srather disreputable to look at, only just been converted, an' not 'avin''ad the chance yet to better himself.--But--hallo!--you seem to knowhim."
The last exclamation and remark were called forth by the look ofsurprise on Laidlaw's face, and the air almost of alarm on that of themean-looking man--alarm which was by no means unnatural, seeing that hewas none other than the fellow who had attempted to rob our Scotsman theprevious night.
David, however, was quick to recover himself. "Know him!" he cried,with a hearty laugh, "ay, I ken him weel. I lent him a helpin' haundlast nicht, no' far frae here."
"Surely he was not beggin'?" exclaimed Mr Spivin in tones of virtuousreproof, "for a noo convert to go a-beggin', you know, would behoutrageous!"
"Na, na," answered David, with a quiet and somewhat cynical smile, "hewasna beggin', puir lad, but I took peety on 'im, an' gee'd 'im somebawbees. So this is yer new convert, is he? an' he's to be my guide?He'll do. He'll do. Sae I'll bid ye guid-nicht, Mr Speevin."
As the Scot held out his hand in a very decided manner the landlord wasobliged to depart without further enlightenment, after cautioning the"converted" thief to take good care of his friend.
When he was gone the Scotsman and the ex-convict stood looking silentlyat each other, the first with an earnest yet half-sarcastic smile, theother with a mingled expression of reckless amusement, in which,however, there was a trace of anxiety.
"Weel noo," said the former, "aren't ye an oot-an'-oot blagyird?"
"If you mean by that an out-and-out blackguard," answered the thief,"you're not far wrong."
"Ye're honest the noo, ony way," remarked the Scot, with a nod. "Noo,my man, look ye here. Ye are nae mair convertit than yer freen' Speevinis, though I took him for a rale honest man at first. But bein' ablagyird, as ye admit, I'm wullin' t' hire ye in that capacity for thenicht. Noo, what I want is t' see low life in Lun'on, an' if ye'll tak'me to what they may ca' the warst haunts o' vice, I'll mak' it worth yerwhile--an' I've got mair siller than ye think for, maybe."
A stern frown settled on the thief's face as David spoke.
"I suppose," he said, "that you want me to show you the misery anddestitootion among the poor of London, that you may return to your 'omein the North and boast that you 'ave `done the slums!'"
"Na--na, ye're quite mista'en, man," returned David quickly; "but I wantt' see for mysel' what I've heard sae muckle aboot--to see if it's a'true, for I'm wae--I'm" (correcting himself) "sorry--for the puircraturs, an' wud fain help some o' them if I could. Noo, freen'," hecontinued, laying his huge hand gently on the man's shoulder, "if yewant to earn something, an'll tak' me t' where I want t' gang--guid. Ifno'--I'll bid ye guid-nicht."
"Do you know," said the man, with a furtive glance at David's kindlyface, "the risk you run from the men who live in such places if you goalone and unprotected?"
"I ken the risk _they_ run if they daur t' meddle wi' _me_! Besides,I'll be naether alane nor unproteckit if I've _you_ wi' me, for I cantrust ye!"
A peculiar smile played for a moment on the haggard features of thethief.
"Scotchman," he said, "whatever your name may be, I--"
"My name is David Laidlaw, an' I've nae cause t' be ashamed o't."
"Well, Mr Laidlaw," returned the thief, in vastly improved language andtone, "I'm indebted to you for a good supper and a warm bed last night.Besides, yours is the first friendly touch or kind voice that hasgreeted me since I was discharged, and you've said you can _trust_ me!So I'll do my best for you even though you should not give me a penny.But remember, you will go among a rough lot whom I have but little powerto control."
"Hoots! c'way, man, an' dinna waste time haverin'."
Saying this, he grasped his guide by the arm in a friendly way andwalked off, much to the surprise of a policeman with an aquiline nose,who turned his bull's-eye full on them as they passed, and then went onhis way, shaking his head sagaciously.
As the ill-assorted pair advanced, the streets they traversed seemed togrow narrower and dirtier. The inhabitants partook of the character oftheir surroundings, and it struck our Scotsman that, as ordinary shopsbecame fewer and meaner, grog-shops became more numerous andself-assertive. From out of these dens of debauchery there issued loudcries and curses and ribald songs, and occasionally one or two of thewretched revellers, male or female, were thrust out, that they mightfinish off a quarrel with a fight in the street, or because theyinsisted on having more drink without having the means to pay for it.
At one particular point a woman "in unwomanly rags" was seen leaning upagainst a lamp-post with an idiotical expression on her bloated face,making an impassioned speech to some imaginary person at her elbow. Thespeech came to an abrupt end when, losing her balance, she fell to theground, and lay there in drunken contentment.
At the same moment the attention of our explorer was drawn to a riotclose at hand, occasioned by two men engaged in a fierce encounter.They were loudly cheered and backed by their friends, until all werescattered by two powerful constables, who swooped suddenly on the sceneand captured one of the combatants, while the other almost overturnedDavid as he ran against him in passing, and escaped.
"Come down here," said the thief, turning sharp to the left and passingunder a low archway.
It led to a narrow alley, which seemed to terminate in total darkness.Even Laidlaw's stout heart beat somewhat faster as he entered it, but hedid not hesitate.
At the end of the passage a dim light appeared. It was thrown by a verydirty lamp, and disclosed a small court of unutterable meanness andinconceivable smells. One or two men had brushed past them, and Davidobserved that his guide accosted these in a language, or slang, which hedid not understand.
"I've got a friend in here," said his guide, opening a door anddisclosing an extremely dirty room of about ten feet square. A womanwith her back towards the door was busy at a wash-tub. Ragged clotheswere drying on a clothes-line. A shattered bed, on which lay a bundleof straw and a torn blanket, stood in one corner; a rickety table inanother. Water and soapsuds blotched the broken floor, amongst whichplayed two little boys, absolutely naked.
"That's a woman that tries to keep respectable," whispered the thief,with something like a bitter laugh. "Hallo, Molly! here's a gen'lem'nas wants to bid 'ee
good-night."
Molly raised herself, cleared the soapsuds from her thin arms, andturned a haggard but not dissipated face towards her visitor, who wasalmost choked, not only by the smell of the place, but by anuncontrollable gush of pity.
"My puir wumin!" he exclaimed, hastily thrusting his ever-ready handinto his pocket, "I didna mean t' come in on 'ee unawears. Hae, ye'llno' objec' to a wheen bawbees?"
He put all the coppers he possessed into the woman's hand and hurriedout of the room.
"Weel, weel," muttered David, as they continued their walk through themiserable region, "I've gane an' gie'd her a' the siller I had i' mypouch. Pair thing! She'll need it, but I've naething left for onybodyelse!"
"It's just as well, for there's nothing left now for any one to steal,"said his companion.
"Whar are 'ee gaun noo?" asked Laidlaw.
The question put was not answered, for his guide, bidding him wait aminute, turned into a doorway and engaged in a low-toned conversationwith a man. Returning to his friend with an air of indecision abouthim, the thief was on the point of speaking when a small party of menand women--evidently of the better classes--came round the corner andapproached.
"Oho!" exclaimed the thief, drawing his companion into the shade of theopposite doorway, "we're in luck. You see, this is what they call a lowlodging-house, and the door-keeper thought that, respectable as you arein dress and looks, it might not be wise to take you in. But we'll goin now at the tail o' this lot, and nobody will take notice of you.Only follow close to me."
Two of the "lot" who approached appeared to be respectably-dressed youngmen, carrying something like a large box between them. There were fivealtogether in the party, two of whom seemed to be plainly-dressedladies.
They entered the house at once with a quiet "good-night" to thedoor-keeper, and were followed by the thief and David. Entering a verylarge irregularly-formed room, they proceeded to the upper end, where ahuge coal fire blazed. The room was crowded with men and boys of variedappearance and character. From every rank in society they hadgravitated--but all were stamped with the same brand--destitution! Theywere not, however, destitute of lungs, as the babel of sounds proved--nor of tobacco, as the clouds of smoke demonstrated.
Little notice was taken of the visitors. They were well known in thathaunt of crime and woe. Angels of mercy they were, who, after thelabours of each day, gave their spare time to the work of preachingsalvation in Jesus to lost souls. To the surprise of Laidlaw, the boxbefore referred to became a harmonium when opened up, and soon theharmony of praise to God ascended from the reeking den. Then followedprayer--brief and to the point--after which an earnest appeal was madeto the sorrowing, the suffering, and the criminal to come and finddeliverance and rest in the Saviour.
We may not dwell on this. Some listened carelessly, some earnestly,others not at all.
"Come now," whispered the thief to his friend, towards the close,"they'll have spotted you, and will want to have a talk. We've no timefor that. Follow me."
David, who had been deeply interested, also wanted to have a talk withthese servants of the King of kings, but his guide being already halfwaydown the room he was constrained to follow. Another moment and theywere in the street.
The Garret and the Garden; Or, Low Life High Up Page 5
