CHAPTER EIGHT.
DARK DESIGNS.
The lawyer was first to speak. "It strikes me I have seen you before,"he said, looking at Laidlaw with a sharp steady gaze.
"Ay, sir, an' I've seen _you_ before," returned the latter with anextremely simple look. "I saw ye whan I was comin' oot o' the hoose o'Mr Speevin, whar I'm lodgin'."
"Oh, exactly!" returned the lawyer with a bland smile; "pray be seated,gentlemen, and let me know your business."
They obeyed,--Sam Blake with an expression of stolid stupidity on hiscountenance, which was powerfully suggestive of a ship's figurehead--Tommy with an air of meekness that was almost too perfect.
It would be tedious to detail the conversation that ensued. Suffice itto say that David said he was a Scotch farmer on a visit to London; thathe possessed a good lot of spare cash, for which, at the time being, hegot very small interest; that he did not understand business mattersvery well, but what he wanted to know was, how he should go aboutinvesting funds--in foreign railways, for instance, such as the Washaband Roria line.
At this point he was interrupted by Mr Lockhart who asked what had putthat particular railway into his head, and was informed that thenewspapers had done so by showing it to be the line whose sharesproduced very high dividends at that time.
"I'm richt I fancy?" said David.
"Yes, you are right, and I could easily put you in the way of investingin that railway."
"Have the shares been lang at this high figure?" asked Laidlaw.
"Yes; they have improved steadily for several years back."
"What say ye to that freend?" demanded David, turning to Sam with atriumphant look.
Sam turned on his friend a look as expressionless as that of a Dutchclock, and said sententiously, "_I_ says, go in an' win."
"_I_ says ditto!" thought Tommy Splint, but he meekly and wisely heldhis tongue.
Meanwhile the lawyer went into another room, from which, returning aftera short absence, he produced a bundle of Reports which fully bore outhis statement as to the flourishing condition of the Washab and RoriaRailway.
"Weel, I'll see aboot it," said David, after a few moments'consideration, with knitted brows. "In the meantime, sir, what have Ito pay to you for yer information?"
Mr Lockhart said he had nothing to pay, and hoped he would have thepleasure of seeing him soon again.
"Noo, isn't _that_ a blagyird?" demanded Laidlaw, when they were againin the street.
"No doubt he is," replied Sam; "but how will you manage to haul him upand prove that he has been swindling the old woman?"
"Hoo can I tell? Am I a lawyer? But I'll fin' oot somehoo."
"Well, mate, while you are finding out," returned the sailor, "I'll goto Cherub Court. So, Tommy, will you go with Mr Laidlaw or with me?"
The boy looked first at one and then at the other with a curious"how-happy-could-I-be-with-either" expression on his sharp countenance,and then elected to accompany the sailor. On the way he told Sam of the"swell visitors" to the garret, whom Laidlaw had prevented him fromgoing back to see.
"Quite right he was, Tommy, my boy," said his friend. "It is easy tosee that you have not profited as much as you might from the example andteaching of my dear Susy an' chimney-pot Liz."
"Chimley-pot," murmured the boy, correcting him in a low tone. "Vell,you could 'ardly expect," he added, "that a child of my age should gitthe profit all at once. I suppose it's like a bad ease o' waxination--it ha'n't took properly yet."
"Then we must have you re-vaccinated, my boy. But tell me, what werethe swells like?"
The description of the swells occupied Tommy all the rest of the walk toCherub Court, where they found old Liz and Susan in a state of greatexcitement about the visitors who had just left.
"Why, who d'ye think they was?" exclaimed the old woman, making the fangwobble with a degree of vigour that bid fair to unship it altogether,"it was my dear sweet little boy Jacky--"
"Little boy! Granny!" cried Susan, with a merry laugh.
"Of course, child, I mean what he was and ever will be to me. He's atall middle-aged gentleman now, an' with that nice wife that used tovisit us--an' their sweet daughter--just like what the mother was,exceptin' those hideous curls tumblin' about her pretty brow as I detestmore than I can tell. An' she's goin' to be married too, young as sheis, to a clergyman down in Devonshire, where the family was used to goevery summer (alongside o' their lawyer Mr Lockhart as they was so fondof, though the son as has the business now ain't like his father); thesweet child--dear, dear, how it do call up old times!"
"And didn't they," broke in Tommy, "never say a word about 'elpin' you,granny, to git hout of your troubles?"
"'Ow could they offer to 'elp me," returned old Liz sternly, "w'en theyknew nothink about my troubles? an' I'm very glad they didn't, for itwould have spoiled their visit altogether if they'd begun it by offerin'me assistance. For shame, Tommy. You're not yet cured o' greed, mydear."
"Did I say I _was_?" replied the urchin, with a hurt look.
Lest the reader should entertain Tommy's idea, we may here mention thatColonel Brentwood and his wife, knowing old Liz's character, hadpurposely refrained from spoiling their first visit by referring tomoney matters.
After a full and free discussion of the state of affairs--in which,however, no reference was made to the recent visit to the lawyer, or tothe suspected foul play of that gentleman--the sailor went off tooverhaul Messrs. Stickle and Screw in the hope of inducing that firm toretain Susy on its staff. Failing which, he resolved to pay a visit toSamson and Son. As for Tommy, he went off in a free-and-easy sort ofway, without any definite designs, in search of adventures.
That evening old Liz filled her teapot, threw her apron over it, anddescended to the court to visit Mrs Rampy.
"Well, you _are_ a good creetur," said that masculine female, looking upas her friend entered. "Come away; sit down; I was wantin' some one tocheer me up a bit, for I've just 'ad a scrimidge with Mrs Blathers, an'it's bin 'ard work. But she 'ave comed off second best, _I_ knows."
As a black eye, dishevelled hair, and a scratched nose constituted MrsRampy's share in the "scrimidge," Mrs Blathers's condition could nothave been enviable. But it was evident from Mrs Rampy's tone andmanner that a more powerful foe than Mrs Blathers had assaulted herthat afternoon.
"Ah, Mrs Rampy," said her visitor, pouring out a cup of tea with aliberal allowance of sugar, "if you'd only give up that--"
"Now, old Liz," interrupted her friend impressively, "don't you go forto preach me a sermon on drink. It's all very well to preach religion.That's nat'ral like, an' don't much signify. You're welcome. But,wotiver you do, old Liz, keep off the drink."
"Well, that's just what I do," replied Liz promptly, as she handed herfriend a cup of hot tea, "and that's just what I was goin' to advise_you_ to do. Keep off the drink."
Feeling that she had slightly committed herself, Mrs Rampy gave a shortlaugh and proceeded to drink with much gusto, and with a preliminary"Here's luck!" from the force of habit.
"But what's the matter with you to-day, Liz?" she asked, setting her cupdown empty and looking, if not asking, for more; "you looks dull."
"Do I? I shouldn't ought to, I'm sure, for there's more blessin's thansorrows in _my_ cup," said Liz.
"Just you put another lump o' sugar in _my_ cup, anyhow," returned herfriend. "I likes it sweet, Liz. Thank 'ee. But what 'as 'appened toyou?"
Old Liz explained her circumstances in a pitiful tone, yet withoutmaking very much phrase about it, though she could not refrain fromexpressing wonder that her railway dividends had dwindled down tonothing.
"Now look 'ee here, chimley-pot Liz," cried Mrs Rampy in a fiercevoice, and bringing her clenched fist down on the table with a crashthat made the tea-cups dance. "You ain't the only 'ooman as 'as got atea-pot."
She rose, took a masculine stride towards a cupboard, and returned witha tea-pot of her own, which, though of the same quality as that
of herfriend, and with a similarly broken spout, was much larger. Taking offthe lid she emptied its contents in a heap--silver and copper with oneor two gold pieces intermixed--on the table.
"There! Them's my savin's, an' you're welcome to what you need, Liz.For as sure as you're alive and kickin', if you've got into the 'ands ofSkinflint Lockhart, 'e'll sell you up, garding an' all! _I_ know 'im!Ah--I know 'im. So 'elp yourself, Liz."
Tears rose to the eyes of old Liz, and her heart swelled with joy, forwas there not given to her here unquestionable evidence of her successin the application of loving-kindness? Assuredly it was no smalltriumph to have brought drunken, riotous, close-fisted, miserly, fierceMrs Rampy to pour her hard-won savings at her feet, for which on herknees she thanked God that night fervently. Meanwhile, however, shesaid, with a grave shake of her head--
"Now, Mrs Rampy, that _is_ uncommon good of you, an' I would accept itat once, but I really won't require it, for now that Susy's father 'asreturned, I can borrow it from him, an' sure he's better able to lend itthan you are. Now, don't be angry, Mrs Rampy, but--'ave some moretea?"
While she was speaking her friend shovelled the money back into theteapot with violence, and replaced it in her cupboard with a bang.
"You won't git the hoffer twice," she said, sitting down again. "Now,Liz, let's 'ave another cup, an' don't spare the sugar."
"That I won't" said Liz, with a laugh, as she poured out her cheeringbut not inebriating beverage.
On the second day after the tea-party just described, John Lockhart,Esquire, and Mr Spivin met in a low public-house not far from CherubCourt. They drank sparingly and spoke in whispers. It may seem strangethat two such men should choose a low tavern in such a neighbourhood forconfidential intercourse, but when we explain that both were landlordsof numerous half-decayed tenements there, the choice will not seem sopeculiar. Lockhart frowned darkly at his companion.
"From what you have told me of his inquiries about me," he said, "thisman's suspicions had certainly been roused, and he would not have resteduntil he had made undesirable discoveries. It is lucky that you managedto get the job so well done."
They put their heads together and whispered lower. From time to timeLockhart gave vent to a grim laugh, and Spivin displayed his feelings ina too-amiable smile.
The Garret and the Garden; Or, Low Life High Up Page 8
