by Tom Gallon
CHAPTER V.
I AM DRAWN FROM THE GRAVE.
You are to picture me, then, standing in that wind-swept corridor, openat one end to the stars, and holding in my arms the sobbing form ofDebora Matchwick, and waiting the coming of Dr. Bardolph Just. I awaitedthat coming with no trepidation, for now it seemed as though I stood anequal match for the man, by reason of this night's work; for if someonehad shouted "Murder!" in the silence of the house, the thing could nothave been proclaimed more clearly. I saw now that in that trance intowhich he had thrown her he had by some devilish art suggested to thegirl what she should do, and at what hour, and then had thrown open theend of the corridor, that she might step out to her death.
Exactly how much she suspected herself, or how much she had had time tograsp, since the moment when I had so roughly awakened her, I could nottell; but she clung to me, and begged me incoherently not to let her go,and not to let the man come near her. Feeling that the thing must be metbravely, I got my arm about her, and advanced with her down the corridorto meet the doctor.
He came with a light held above his head; he was panting from excitementand hurry. I know that he expected to run to the end of that corridor,and to look out, and to see what should have lain far below him; but hecame upon us advancing towards him instead, and he stopped dead andlowered his light.
"What's the matter?" he stammered.
"You should know that best," I answered him boldly. "Death might havebeen the matter. With your leave, I'll take this lady to her room."
He stood back against the wall, and watched us as we went past him. Hisbrows were drawn down, and his eyes were glittering, and the faint whiteline of his teeth showed between his lips. In that attitude he remained,like some figure turned to stone, while I drew the girl along, and downthe stairs; I had to ask her the way to her room, for, of course, I didnot know it. Coming to it at last, I took her cold hands in mine andheld them for a moment, and smiled as cheerfully as I could.
"This is not the time for explanations," I said; "leave all that tillthe morning. Go to bed, and try not to remember anything that hashappened; and lock your door."
I heard the key turn in the lock before I came away; not till then did Iretrace my steps back to the corridor. I was scarcely surprised to findthe man standing almost in the same attitude--only now his head hadlowered a little, and he seemed to be musing. Without moving he lookedup at me, and a queer sort of grin spread over his features.
"Smart man!" he whispered, with a sneer. "How did it happen? How much doyou know?"
"More than you would have me know?" I replied. "Would it not be well tofasten up that door again?" I jerked my head in the direction of the endof the corridor.
Without a word he handed the lamp to me, and started towards theopening. He went so quickly that I thought for the moment he meant tohurl himself upon that death he had intended for the girl; but hestopped at the end, and seemed to be fumbling with the doors.
By that time I had reached him, and, with the aid of the lamp, I couldsee that there were two heavy doors opening inwards and fastened with agreat bar that dropped across them, and with bolts at the top and at thebottom. Quite as though he had forgotten the incidents of the night, heturned to me, and gave an explanation of the doors.
"There used to be an iron staircase against the wall of the house,leading down from here at one time," he said. "It was the whim of someformer owner. I found these doors by accident."
"And opened them with a purpose," I reminded him.
He said nothing in reply. Having secured the doors, he motioned to me togo in front, which I did, carrying the light, and in that order we cameto my room. I would have handed him the lamp at the door, but hemotioned to me to go in, and, following himself, closed the door. I setdown the lamp, and waited for what he had to say. He was a long timecoming to it; he wandered about the room for a time, stopping now andthen, with his back to me, and with his finger tracing out the patternof the wall paper. When at last he spoke he was still tracing thatpattern, and he did not look round.
"You have done me a service to-night, and one I'm not likely to forget,"he said.
"A service?" I asked in amazement. "I should scarcely have thought you'dcall it that."
"I do--I do!" he exclaimed, swinging round upon me suddenly. "I meant tokill her, and you've saved me from that. I thank my God for it!"
"I don't believe you," I said doggedly. "You planned the thing too wellfor that."
"I did not plan it, except by the opening of the doors," he said. "Iknew that she walked in her sleep sometimes, and I thought----"
"You lie!" I exclaimed fiercely. "I watched you, and heard you while yousuggested to her that she should walk in this eastern corridor atmidnight, and should come to the end wall. And you knew that there wouldbe no wall there."
He looked at me in a bewildered fashion for what seemed a long time;then he nodded slowly twice. "So you heard that, did you? Well, Isuppose there's nothing for it but confession. I did plan the thing; itwas by a method you don't understand--what we call hypnotic suggestion.That means that you tell a person that they are to do a certain thing ata certain hour, and when that hour arrives they must inevitably setabout to do it."
"Why did you want to kill her?"
"Why do we always desire to crush the thing that we can't possess?" hesnapped back at me. "Because I love her--because I would sell myimmortal soul--if I have one--to bend her or break her to my will. Youare a sleepy dolt, understanding nothing of passions such as swaystronger men; you are not likely to understand this. But she maddens mewhen she sticks that pretty chin of hers in the air, and I see thecontempt flash out of her eyes. If you saw so much, you probably saw thebeginning of it, when she said she would have nothing further to do withme, and threatened to get away out of the house. Then the thought cameover me that I would put an end to it all; and I made that suggestion toher that she should walk here to-night; and I came first, and opened theold doors. I thank God you saved her!"
He suddenly dropped his head in his hands and groaned aloud; and myheart melted a little with pity for him. I guessed something of what astormy nature was hidden in the man; and I, who thought I had readsomething of love in her eyes for me, could afford to pity the man towhose pleadings she turned a deaf ear. Fool that I was, I did notrealise the cunning of the creature who stood with hidden face beforeme; I did not understand that this was but a bit of play-acting, to putme off my guard. I was to learn all that later.
"Do you think you'll help your case by such a business as this ofto-night?" I asked. "It's a poor way to make love, to strive to kill thewoman."
"She won't know anything about it; she won't guess," he exclaimedeagerly, looking up at me. "She does not know that I suggested to herwhat to do; she will only wonder at finding the doors open. I can givesome explanation of that, if necessary."
"And what will you do now?" I asked him, as I lighted my own lamp andput his into his hand.
"Give up the game," he replied, with a faint smile. "This has taught mea lesson to-night; it has shown me how near the best of us may come to acrime. I am sincere in that; I thank you from the bottom of my heart forwhat you've done. The lover in me is gone; henceforth I'm her guardianand the friend of her dead father. There's my hand on it!"
I looked into his eyes, and once again I believed him; I began to feelthat I had misjudged the man. True, his hand was cold enough in mygrasp, but I paid no heed to that; I seemed to see only before me achanged and humbled man. He wished me "Good-night!" with muchcordiality, and went off to his own room. For my part, I felt somethingof a missionary, and congratulated myself upon the night's work.
I had made up my mind that I would see Debora as early as possible onthe following morning. I was anxious to know what impression thatstartling occurrence of the previous night had made upon her. I wantedto see her before there was any possibility of Bardolph Just confrontingher; and in that I was successful.
It was a very fine morning, and I supposed that I
should find her in thegrounds. I felt that I might reasonably expect that she would make herway to that summer-house in which we had met and talked before; and inthat also I was right. Quite early, before breakfast was announced, Icame upon her in the morning sunlight; and for a long time, as itseemed, we held hands without a word.
"You slept well?" I asked her.
She nodded brightly. "Better than I should have done, I suppose," shesaid, with a smile; "but then, I was sure of my friend--certain that noharm could come to me. How much have you to tell me of last night?"
"Nothing," I said, shaking my head. "There is nothing that you need betold, now that everything is ended. For the future you have to trust tome--just as you trusted last night. You said I was your friend; and I amgoing to look after you."
"That makes me very happy. By the way, what am I to call you?" she askedartlessly.
I felt the colour mounting in my cheeks. "You know my name," I said.
"Yes--John," she replied, and we both laughed.
Now this is, of course, all very shameful, and I had no right to bestanding there, holding her hands, and letting her talk to me in thatfashion; but I did not remember then what I was, or from what I hadcome. Indeed, it is more than possible that if I had remembered I shouldscarcely have changed my attitude, for but little joy had ever comeinto my life. I merely set this down here, in order to record the factthat, save for one lamentable lapse, we were "John" and "Debora" to eachother from that day forward.
But I had some instructions to give her for her own safety. She listenedattentively while I gave them.
"You had better not refer to last night at all," I said. "Let the doctorimagine that you have forgotten about it, or at least have believed thatit was some ugly dream. Meet him as usual--show him, if anything, alittle more kindness than you have done."
"I can't do that," she said hastily.
"You must; it is imperative," I urged. "I can tell you this, at least: Ihave his promise that he will not molest you again, and that he will befor the future simply your guardian, and nothing else."
"He said that?" she asked in astonishment.
"Yes, and I believe he means it," I answered steadily.
"I don't believe it, John; it's a trick," she said, shaking her head."I've seen too much of him; I know him too well. He is trying to throwyou off the scent. Don't you understand how helpless we both are? Youtell me that you are in his power, because he knows something about yourpast life: how can you fight against him, or help me?"
"I can, and I will," I assured her. "And you can help, by beingdiscreet, and by waiting until we have an opportunity to do something inconcert."
She promised faithfully that she would do that, and she left me, with asmile and a wave of the hand. I followed her slowly to the house, andfound the doctor in his usual place at the breakfast table, talkingquietly to her. The woman Leach was behind him, as usual.
It became obvious, in a minute or two, that Bardolph Just was anxious tofind out how much she remembered, or how much she understood, of theevents of the previous night; he had already begun to question Deboracautiously. He appeared to be in a genial mood, and yet in a softenedmood; he gave me a smile as I took my place.
"So you slept well?" said Bardolph Just to the girl, as he leanedtowards her. "Not disturbed by anything?"
She shook her head, and looked at him with raised eyebrows ofperplexity; truly I felt that she had learnt her lesson well. "Whatshould disturb me?"
"Nothing, nothing!" he replied, evidently at a loss. "Only I thoughtthat there was some noise in the house last night; I almost went out toinvestigate. But, of course, if you heard nothing----"
It happened that at that moment I glanced up over his head, and I sawthe woman behind him turn a swift glance out of those dark eyes of hersat the girl; it was but a momentary thing, and then her eyes were castdown in the usual humble fashion; but in that instant I had readsomething that I had not understood before. I read not only hatred ofthe girl, and defiance of her; I saw, as clearly as though it had beenwritten, that she knew of the events of the night before, and that sheknew that the girl was not speaking the truth. I wondered exactly whathad happened, or in what way she had gained her knowledge: I was tolearn that swiftly enough.
Somewhat later in the forenoon, I was practically alone in the house. Iknew that Debora had gone off into the grounds with a book, and I didnot care to disturb her. Bardolph Just had gone down into London onbusiness. I was lounging at my full length in an easy chair in thedining-room, smoking, and reading the newspaper, when the door openedsoftly, and Martha Leach came in. I did not turn my head, but I saw hermoving round the room in a large mirror hanging on the wall opposite mychair. Indeed, our eyes met in that mirror, before they met elsewhere.She stopped, and, somewhat to my surprise, spoke.
"You are a very brave man," she said, with a quick glance at the longwindows, as though fearing interruption. "And a strong man, too."
"Who told you that?" I asked, without shifting my position.
"No one tells me anything, and I don't need to be told," she answered."I find out things for myself; I watch, and discover."
I seemed to have a dim inkling of what was coming, but I think my facebetrayed nothing. I lowered the newspaper to my knee, and went onsmoking, and watching her in the mirror.
"I saw you last night in the eastern corridor; I saw you catch that girljust in time," she went on, in the same breathless sort of whisper. "Amoment later, and that would have been death."
"You seem to know a great deal about it," I answered. "Perhaps you cantell me something else."
She laughed insolently, and shrugged her shoulders. I kept my eyes uponher in the mirror. "Anything you like," she replied.
"Then tell me how you could see anything that happened in the easterncorridor last night," was my answer.
"I was in the grounds--I had been there a long time," she whispered, hereyes growing more excited. "I did not know about the door; I only knewthat something was going to happen, because the doctor kept moving aboutall the evening. I watched him go out of his room--I mean that I saw thelight disappear, and knew that he had not put it out; I saw it goacross the windows as he moved. I thought he was going to your room, andso I went round there; and then I saw your light go out. And then, as bya miracle, I saw that wall open, and the doctor stood there, like aspirit. I saw him before the light was puffed out. Then I waited to seewhat would happen."
"Well, I hope you were satisfied with what you saw?" I said carelessly.
She snapped her fingers quickly, and laughed. "Bah! you think you willput me off; you think I don't understand," she said. "I tell you I sawyou come to that door and look out; I saw you in the starlight. And thenI saw her come; heard the shriek; saw you catch her in your arms. Afterthat, the fastening of the door by the doctor, while you held the lamp.And yet this morning"--her voice changed to a tone of bitterirony--"this morning, if you please, no one knows anything about it, andeveryone has slept well. Bah!"
She snapped her fingers again, and it seemed almost as if she waited toknow what I should say. But I realised that this woman was an intimateof the doctor; and it was my business, then, to fear everyone in thathouse, save Debora. So I went on smoking, and, still without turning myhead, talked to the woman I saw in the mirror.
"Have you anything else to say?" I asked calmly.
"Oh! a great deal," she flashed back at me, forgetting the cautiousvoice in which she had spoken. "I want, first of all, to know who youare, and how you come to be in this house so mysteriously and sosuddenly; for who saw you arrive? That I shall discover some day formyself. I discover everything in time. And I want to tell yousomething."
She moved a step nearer to my chair, and now I turned my head and lookedinto her eyes.
"He did not succeed last night; but perhaps the next time he will notfail. So surely as I stand here, so surely do I know that he will killher." She nodded her head with incredible swiftness two or three times,and drew back from me, with h
er lips tightly pursed.
I lost control of myself in the sudden shock of her words; I sprang tomy feet. "What do you mean?" I asked in horror. "What do you know?"
"Only what I have said," she mocked at me, as she made for the door. "Iwould advise you, Mr. Mysterious, to look well after this girl youlove--this frail thing of prettiness. For the doctor will surely killher!" Then she was gone, and I was left staring helplessly at the closeddoor.
So much had that thought been in my own mind that her words seemed butan echo. I thought I saw that this man, Bardolph Just, cheated of hispurpose in securing the girl, had made up his mind to get rid ofher--out of some insane jealousy that prompted him not to allow her togo to the arms of another man. Yet, when I came to think over theproblem, it occurred to me that if, as he had faintly suggested, hewanted control of her fortune, this would be but the act of a madman.The only possibility was that the fortune might in some way be securedby him without her.
But now that the matter had been confirmed in this startling fashion Iknew that it was imperative that I should keep a stricter watch thanever upon Debora. For suddenly it seemed to me that my absurd belief inthe man was no longer justified. I saw that the doctor had merelyadopted that attitude of penitence, the better to put me off my guard.Yet, even while I promised myself that I would do valiant things, Icould only remember my own helplessness, in being entirely dependentupon the very man against whom I wished to arm myself. I had in mypocket but a shilling or two, which he had given me for my journey downinto London--that journey which I had never taken.
As for any future that might once have seemed bright before me--whatfuture had I? I was practically in hiding under another name, and I hadno resources save those I might derive from one who knew my secret, andwas, in a great sense, my enemy. I was in love--surely more hopelesslythan mortal man had ever been before; and I was liable at any moment tobe betrayed by the man Harvey Scoffold, who had penetrated my story.Altogether, as I came to review the position, I could have heartilywished myself back in my prison again, save for one element in thebusiness. That element was Debora Matchwick, and I knew that in thestrange game I was playing Fate had destined me to fight on her side, ina matter of life and death.
Bardolph Just returned early in the afternoon, and went straight to hisstudy. Debora I had seen for an instant as she crossed the hall; shegave me a quick smile, and that was all. There seemed to be broodingover the whole house an atmosphere of expectancy--quite as though wewaited for something that was to happen, and faced it each in his or herparticular way. I found myself listening for the doctor's step in thehouse, while I felt equally certain that for his part he was wonderingwhat move I should take, and was calmly preparing to meet such a move,whatever it might be.
The long day drew to a close, and presently the harsh bell clangedthrough the house as a summons to dinner. I happened to be in my room atthe time, and as I stepped out of it to go down the stairs, I saw thatthe doctor was waiting at the head of the stairs, and was peering overinto the hall below. He turned his head when he heard my step behindhim, and spoke in a whisper. He spoke as though we were on thefriendliest terms, and almost as if there were some secret understandingbetween us. As I stepped up to him he put his hand on my shoulder, and,laughable as it may seem, I felt a little thrill of gratitude andtenderness for the man run through me--such was the fascination of him.All my suspicions of him seemed to go to the wind.
"I thought I ought to prepare you, John, in case you didn't know," hewhispered. "Two bits of news--Harvey Scoffold has come to dinner, whichmay mean mischief; and Capper's missing."
He imparted that last scrap of information with something so like achuckle that I looked at him quickly, with a new suspicion in my mind.Oddly enough, he must have guessed what I meant, for he shook his headand grinned.
"Oh, nothing to do with me, I assure you," he said. "Only he has goneoff without a word to anyone--and I don't quite like it. Of course, I'mrelieved to know that he has gone; the old fool was like a ghostwandering about the place. But still, I'd like to know where he is."
"I don't see that it matters very much," I replied. "But what makes youthink that Scoffold may mean mischief?"
Still keeping his hand on my shoulder, he turned me about, and began towalk with me down the stairs. "Because it's a long time since he hasvisited me until the other night, and now he comes again. You see, heknows our story, and he's utterly unscrupulous. More than that, he'salways in want of money."
"I'll try what personal violence will do, if he tries any tricks withme," I muttered savagely. And once again I heard the doctor chuckle.
Harvey Scoffold was in the dining-room when we entered, and was talkingto Debora. He was flourishing about in his big, bullying way, with hishands thrust in his pockets, and his feet wide apart. He turned round togreet us at once. I noticed that he looked sharply from the doctor tome, and back again, as though he suspected we had been discussing him;but the next moment he gripped our hands warmly, and began to pour outapologies.
"I hope you don't mind a lonely man coming in, and taking advantage ofyour hospitality in this fashion," he began to the doctor. "But itsuddenly occurred to me that I might run over to see you--and I acted onthe impulse of a moment."
"Delighted, I'm sure," murmured Bardolph Just. Yet he scarcely lookeddelighted. "You know you're always welcome, Harvey."
"Thanks--a thousand thanks!" exclaimed the big man. "You fellowsinterested me so much the other night while we smoked our cigars, that Irather wanted to have that little discussion out with you. You don'tmind?"
We were seated at the table by this time, and I saw the doctor look upquickly at him, with something of a scowl on his face. "I mind verymuch," he said sharply. "Drop it."
A little startled, Harvey Scoffold sat upright, looking at him for amoment; then he nodded slowly. "Very good--then the subject is dropped,"he said. "It would not have been mentioned again by me, but that Ithought I might be of some assistance in the matter."
There was no reply to that, and we presently drifted into other topicsof conversation. But after a time it seemed as though Harvey Scoffold,in sheer venom, must get back to that subject, if only by a side door,for he presently asked a question casually that bore straight upon it.
"By the way, that quaint old servant, Capper--is he any better?"
The doctor slowly finished the wine he was drinking, and set the glassdown, and wiped his lips; then, without looking at his questioner, heanswered--
"Capper is gone!" he said.
Two persons at the table echoed that last word together--Harvey Scoffoldand Debora exclaimed, as in one voice, "Gone!"
"Having had enough of our society, the man has taken himself off asmysteriously as he came," went on the doctor calmly. "I never understoodhis coming; still less do I understand his going, although I confessthat the latter movement is the more reasonable. Perhaps he hasremembered where his master is, and has gone to join him."
I stole a glance at the startled face of the girl. She seemed strangelyexcited. Harvey Scoffold, evidently at a loss for conversation, hummedthe mere shred of an air between his lips, and looked at the ceiling.The doctor's face I could not see, because he was behind the lamp. Ilonged for the dinner to pass, because I wanted to get at my man, andfind out just what game was afoot; I was in a mood to choke whatevernews he had out of him, if necessary.
Debora rose at last, and went out of the room. No sooner was the doorclosed than the doctor shifted his chair a little, so as to bring himclear of the lamp, and brought a fist down on the table with a bang.
"Now, Scoffold," he said violently, "what's the move?"
"Yes, what's the move?" I echoed, leaning towards the man also.
He glanced from one to the other of us with a look of smiling innocenceon his face. "The move?" he said. "I'm afraid I don't understand. In thename of all that's marvellous, can't a man come to dinner with friendswithout being asked what the move is?"
"You're not the man to do anything with
out a purpose," cried BardolphJust. "You discovered something the last time you were here, and youevidently want to discover something else. Let me warn you----"
"Stop! stop!" broke in Harvey Scoffold, raising his hands protestingly."I need no threats and no warnings, because there is nothing to threatenabout, nor to warn about. My hands are clean, and I trust they mayremain so. If I referred to the matter at all to-night, it was simplybecause I was naturally very deeply interested in the story I heard, andI wanted to know what further developments there might be, that is all."
"Well, there are no further developments," growled the doctor. "I doubtif there will be any further developments."
"I'm delighted to hear it, and I'm only worried about one thing--that'sthe man Capper. He may make mischief, and he may get himself intotrouble--poor old fellow!--wandering about the world friendless. I'mquite sorry for Capper."
The doctor excused himself almost immediately, and went to his study. Tomy surprise, Scoffold linked his arm in mine, and drew me with himtowards the door of the house. "It's a fine night, and a walk will doyou good," he said. "Walk back with me to my place."
"That's rather too far," I said, for I remembered that he had chambersin the West-end of London.
"I've taken another lodging," he said, without looking at me. "It'sabout a mile from here--or perhaps a little more--in a sort of ruralcottage, where I can smell the roses when I wake in the morning. Cheapand wholesome, and all that sort of thing. Come along."
It was still quite early, and I reflected that no harm was likely tocome to the girl in the short time I should be away. Besides, in afashion, this man drew me to him, by reason of the fact that I wasafraid of him, and of what he might do or say. So we went out of thehouse together, and traversed the dark grounds, and so came arm-in-arminto the open road. Smoking our cigars like two gentlemen at ease, westrolled along under the stars.
I found that he had taken a lodging in a quaint little cottage, with along garden in front of it, in a queer little back street in Highgate--Ishould scarcely have believed that such a place existed in what wasreally London. He fitted his key into the door, and we went into a tinypassage and up some stairs. As we reached the top of the stairs, aclean-looking old woman came out of the room below, and called to him.
"Your servant is waiting up for you, sir," she said.
"Thank you very much indeed," replied Harvey Scoffold blandly, and thewoman retired.
I found myself wondering a little what sort of servant he had brought tosuch a place as this. I followed him into a little clean sitting-room,with two doors opening out of it into what were evidently bedrooms.
At one side of the room a little table was set out with decanters, andglasses, and syphons: he proceeded to mix for himself and for me.Looking about him in search of something which he could not find, hestruck his hand on a little bell, and I saw one of the doors open, andsomeone come in. I stared with a dropping jaw when I saw that themysterious servant who now came in smiling was Capper!
Capper did not look at me. He received his instructions, and went out ofthe room in search of what was wanted. He came noiselessly back in amoment or two, and during his absence no word was spoken. When the doorwas finally closed again, I spoke in a tone I vainly endeavoured tocontrol.
"What is the meaning of this?" I demanded.
"Of what?" asked Harvey Scoffold innocently. "Oh! you mean Capper?Purely an act of charity, my dear boy. I wouldn't have wished the oldman to starve."
"You're lying," I said hotly. "You asked all those questions to-nightduring dinner, knowing well that the old man was here. Come, what's themotive?"
He took a long drink and set down his glass with a sigh of satisfaction."The motive is this," he said, with a curious grin stealing over hisfeatures. "While I wish no direct harm to you, my dear boy, I alwayslike to be prepared for anything that may happen. I am in possession ofyour story--I know practically all that I want to know. But in thefulness of time that story must change and move; something's got tohappen to you at some time or other. Now this man Capper--this creatureof the lost memory--may be a mere pawn in the game, or he may besomething more. Who shall say what is locked away in that numbed brainof his?--who shall say when or under what circumstances he may wake up?I shall be curious to know what he will say when he wakes--curious tounderstand what the shock was that drove him into his presentcondition."
"Why should you concern yourself about the matter at all?" I demanded.
"Because I wish to concern myself on your account, my dear fellow," hesaid blandly. "Really you ought to be very much obliged to me. BardolphJust would have sent the man packing, or would have let him drift outinto the world, with the possibility that at some time or other Capperwould wake up and tell his story, and demand sanely to know where hismaster was. Here I have him safely, and if he blurts out the story atall--always supposing that he has one to blurt out--he can only tell itto a friend. Don't be hasty, and don't misjudge people."
Nevertheless, I did not like it. I knew that I was in the power of thisman Scoffold, and I saw, in the line of conduct he was taking, so manysteps towards using me for his own ends. The coming to dinner, thetaking of this lodging so near to where I lived, the securing of the manCapper. I felt that he was drawing a net about me, out of which I mightnot be able to struggle.
We sat talking for a long time, and gradually, with his plausibletongue, he persuaded me that he was my friend, and that he meant to helpme. He suspected the doctor, he told me, and his real motive in comingto that lodging was to be near me in case of necessity.
"Trust me," he said, "and I will stand your friend. More than that, Iwant to show you now that my help shall be of a practical nature. I takeit that you have no money; that you are dependent upon Bardolph Just foreverything?" As I was silent, he nodded, and went on, "Just as Ithought. Well, we'll remedy that; you must let me lend you a littlemoney."
I protested feebly for a time, but he was insistent, and at last Iyielded. I took only a few shillings, because I really needed them, andI did not know at what moment I might be thrown on my own resources, andleft to face the world once more. Then, with something amounting tofriendliness, I left Harvey Scoffold at the little gate in the fence, atthe end of the long garden which led to the cottage, and took my wayback towards the doctor's house.
It was very late, and very dark. I was going along at a swinging pace,when I saw a man rise from beside the road and come hobbling towards me,pleading volubly as he came. Having nothing for beggars, I was pressingon, while he jogged along beside me, about a foot in my rear, stillpleading.
"S'welp me, guv'nor, yer might spare a tanner to 'elp a pore bloke to anight's lodging. I've bin trampin' it all day, an' I've scarcely 'ad amouthful of food; it wouldn't 'urt yer to give me a tanner. I wouldn'tbe like this 'ere if I 'adn't bin unfort'nit; but wot's a pore bloke todo wot's been in jail--an' gits chivied abaht----"
I stopped and wheeled round on him. "You say you've been in prison?" Iasked. "What prison was it?"
"Pent'ouse," he replied; and on that I thrust the money I had ready inmy hand into his, and turned abruptly and made off.
But, as ill-luck would have it, we had been standing squarely under alamp, and as I turned round I saw the man give a start of surprise. Iwas in a mood to run, knowing well that I could out-distance him easily,but as I went striding away, I heard him come pounding after me, andheard him shouting something. The mischief was done; there was nothingfor it but to meet him.
So I turned back slowly and then stood still, and waited for him.
