Dead Man's Love Part 12

"Thank you very much indeed," replied Harvey Scoffold blandly, and the woman retired.

I found myself wondering a little what sort of servant he had brought to such 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, and gla.s.ses, and syphons: he proceeded to mix for himself and for me.

Looking about him in search of something which he could not find, he struck his hand on a little bell, and I saw one of the doors open, and someone come in. I stared with a dropping jaw when I saw that the mysterious servant who now came in smiling was Capper!

Capper did not look at me. He received his instructions, and went out of the room in search of what was wanted. He came noiselessly back in a moment or two, and during his absence no word was spoken. When the door was finally closed again, I spoke in a tone I vainly endeavoured to control.

"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 old man to starve."

"You're lying," I said hotly. "You asked all those questions to-night during dinner, knowing well that the old man was here. Come, what's the motive?"

He took a long drink and set down his gla.s.s with a sigh of satisfaction.

"The motive is this," he said, with a curious grin stealing over his features. "While I wish no direct harm to you, my dear boy, I always like to be prepared for anything that may happen. I am in possession of your story--I know practically all that I want to know. But in the fulness of time that story must change and move; something's got to happen to you at some time or other. Now this man Capper--this creature of the lost memory--may be a mere p.a.w.n in the game, or he may be something more. Who shall say what is locked away in that numbed brain of his?--who shall say when or under what circ.u.mstances he may wake up?

I shall be curious to know what he will say when he wakes--curious to understand what the shock was that drove him into his present condition."

"Why should you concern yourself about the matter at all?" I demanded.

"Because I wish to concern myself on your account, my dear fellow," he said blandly. "Really you ought to be very much obliged to me. Bardolph Just would have sent the man packing, or would have let him drift out into the world, with the possibility that at some time or other Capper would wake up and tell his story, and demand sanely to know where his master was. Here I have him safely, and if he blurts out the story at all--always supposing that he has one to blurt out--he can only tell it to 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 this man Scoffold, and I saw, in the line of conduct he was taking, so many steps towards using me for his own ends. The coming to dinner, the taking of this lodging so near to where I lived, the securing of the man Capper. I felt that he was drawing a net about me, out of which I might not be able to struggle.

We sat talking for a long time, and gradually, with his plausible tongue, he persuaded me that he was my friend, and that he meant to help me. He suspected the doctor, he told me, and his real motive in coming to that lodging was to be near me in case of necessity.

"Trust me," he said, "and I will stand your friend. More than that, I want to show you now that my help shall be of a practical nature. I take it that you have no money; that you are dependent upon Bardolph Just for everything?" As I was silent, he nodded, and went on, "Just as I thought. Well, we'll remedy that; you must let me lend you a little money."

I protested feebly for a time, but he was insistent, and at last I yielded. I took only a few s.h.i.+llings, because I really needed them, and I did not know at what moment I might be thrown on my own resources, and left to face the world once more. Then, with something amounting to friendliness, I left Harvey Scoffold at the little gate in the fence, at the end of the long garden which led to the cottage, and took my way back 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 pressing on, while he jogged along beside me, about a foot in my rear, still pleading.

"S'welp me, guv'nor, yer might spare a tanner to 'elp a pore bloke to a night's lodging. I've bin trampin' it all day, an' I've scarcely 'ad a mouthful of food; it wouldn't 'urt yer to give me a tanner. I wouldn't be like this 'ere if I 'adn't bin unfort'nit; but wot's a pore bloke to do wot's been in jail--an' gits chivied abaht----"

I stopped and wheeled round on him. "You say you've been in prison?" I asked. "What prison was it?"

"Pent'ouse," he replied; and on that I thrust the money I had ready in my hand into his, and turned abruptly and made off.

But, as ill-luck would have it, we had been standing squarely under a lamp, and as I turned round I saw the man give a start of surprise. I was 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, and heard him shouting something. The mischief was done; there was nothing for it but to meet him.

So I turned back slowly and then stood still, and waited for him.

CHAPTER VI.

I BEHAVE DISGRACEFULLY.

The man I now faced on that solitary road had all the appearance of a tramp. By the light of the lamp above us I saw that he was clad in a dingy old tweed suit, very much frayed at the cuffs and the trouser-ends, while upon his head was a cap much too large for him, the peak of which was worn over one ear. And this not from any rakishness, but rather, as it seemed, as a sullen protest against the more orderly habits of his fellows. As the game was in his hands for the moment, I left the first move to him.

"Well, strike me pink!" he exclaimed under his breath, as he looked me up and down. "Wot's walkin' to-night--live men or spooks? Jail-bird or gent--w'ich is it?"

"I don't know what you mean," I said lamely. "I know nothing about you----"

"Come orf it!" he exclaimed, with a disgusted shrug. "If you don't know nothink abaht me, wot did yer come back for w'en I 'ollered? W'y--we worked in the same gang!"

"I never saw you in my life before," I said, feeling now that all was up with me.

"Oh, yus, yer did!" he retorted. "You an' me worked in the same gang, an' slep' at night in cells wot was next to each uvver. An' then one day you cut yer lucky, an' they brought you back a dead 'un. 'Ere, ketch 'old of my 'and!"

He stretched out a grimy hand to me as he spoke and quite mechanically I put my own into it. He gripped it for a moment, and then tossed it from him with a laugh.

"You ain't no spook," he said, "an' you ain't no bloomin' twin brother.

You won't kid old George Rabbit."

"I don't want to kid anybody," I said. "And I shouldn't think you'd be the sort to go back on a pal. Why, you're free yourself!"

"Yes, in a proper sort o' way," he retorted. "Got my discharge reg'lar, an' a nice little pat on the back w'en I come out fer bein' a good boy.

Not that that does yer much good--'cos 'ere I am starving, w'ile the bloke that comes out through the roof, an' cuts his lucky, dresses like a toff, an' smokes a cigar you could smell a mile orf. As fer me, it don't 'ardly run to 'alf a hounce an' a inch of clay."

"Well, at any rate you're better off now, and as to freedom--well, we can cry quits as to that," I said. "Here's some more money for you, all I can spare. I'll wish you good-night."

"'Arf a mo'--'arf a mo'!" he cried, catching at my sleeve and detaining me. "Do yer fink I'm goin' to let yer go like that? W'y, there's lots of fings wants explainin'. 'Ow do you come to be walkin' at large like this 'ere, after they've tolled the bloomin' bell for yer at Pent'ouse?"

"I can't explain everything to you; it would take too long," I said.

"Suffice it that I've found friends who have helped me; there was another man buried in my place. And now, Mr. George Rabbit," I added fiercely, "you'll please to understand that Norton Hyde, convict, lies buried in a certain grave you know of, and quite another man has given you money to-night. Get that into your thick head, and once more 'good-night' to you."

I turned away abruptly to resume my walk. After all, I felt that I was pretty safe; such a s.h.i.+fty, shambling creature as this would only be regarded as a madman if he told any tale about me, especially any tale that would seem as absurd as this one of a man alive that should properly be dead. So I strode away, whistling.

But after a moment or two, glancing furtively over my shoulder, I saw that he was following, coming along on the other side of the road at a sort of hobbling trot that carried him over the ground as fast as my longer stride. I stopped, and looked back at him; and in a moment he stopped too, and waited.

"You'd better go back," I called across to him threateningly, but he did not answer.

On I went again, and once more, as I glanced over my shoulder, I saw him coming along in the same way, like a grim Fate that would not be shaken off. I had just made up my mind to try conclusions with him in the shape of personal violence, and had stopped with that purpose in my mind, when a voice broke in out of the darkness that startled me even more than it could have startled Mr. Rabbit.

"Is that man following you, sir?"

It was a constable, standing in the shadow of a doorway, and he had evidently been watching our approach. I knew by the fact that George Rabbit stood his ground, and even edged a little nearer, that he felt he had nothing to fear; while, for my part, the mere sight of the uniformed constable, coming at that juncture, had thrown me into such a sweat of terror that I could scarcely speak. However, I managed to jerk out some words which were perhaps the most stupid I could have used, because I doubt not that had I braved the matter out, George Rabbit would have taken to his heels, and so have left me in peace. But my words only strengthened whatever ties the man meant to bind me with.

"It's all right, constable," I blurted out; "the man's a friend of mine in--in reduced circ.u.mstances. I'm going to find him a lodging."

So we shuffled on in our original order past the constable, and now I began to feel that I had indeed taken a load upon me that was more than I could support. By this time George Rabbit had drawn nearer to me, and was shuffling along contentedly at my side, and with each step I was coming nearer to the house of Dr. Bardolph Just. In desperation at last I turned about, and caught him suddenly by the throat and shook him. I remember now that he tumbled about in my hands as though he had been the mere bundle of rags he looked, so that I was a little ashamed of my violence.

"You dog!" I exclaimed savagely, "what the devil do you mean by following me like this? What do you think you'll gain?"

"I dunno, yet," he said shakily, while his head rolled from side to side. "I can't be much worse off than wot I am, an' I may be a deal better."