The Amateur Gentleman Part 55

"Ah!--would you?" he cried, "who are you to order my f-friends about--and in m-my own place too! Ha! did you think you could buy me, d-did you? Did you think I--I'd sacrifice my sister--did you? Ha!

drunk, am I? Well, I'm sober enough to--to 'venge my honor and hers; by G.o.d I'll kill you! Ah--let go, Dig! Let go, I say! Didn't you hear?

Tempt me with his cursed money, will he! Oh, let go my arm! d.a.m.n him, I say--I'll kill him!"

But, as he struck, Mr. Smivvle caught his wrist, the bottle crashed splintering to the floor, and they were locked in a fierce grapple.

"Beverley--my dear fellow--go!" panted Mr. Smivvle, "must forgive--poor Barry--not himself. Go--go,--I can--manage him. Now Barry, do be calm! Go, my dear fellow--leave him to me--go!" So, perforce, Barnabas turned away and went down the dingy stairs, and in his ears was the echo of the boy's drunken ravings and Mr.

Chichester's soft laughter.

And presently, being come into the dingy street, Barnabas paused to look up at the dingy house, and looking, sighed.

"She said it would be 'difficult, and dangerous, perhaps,'" said he to himself, "and indeed I think she was right."

Then he turned and went upon his way, heavy-footed and chin on breast.

On he went, plunged in gloomy abstraction, turning corners at random, lost to all but the problem he had set himself, which was this:

How he might save Ronald Barrymaine in spite of Ronald Barrymaine.

CHAPTER x.x.xI

WHICH DESCRIBES SOME OF THE EVILS OF VINDICTIVENESS

Barnabas stumbled suddenly, dropped his cane, saw his hat spin through the air and roll on before him; staggered sideways, was brought up by a wall, and turning, found three men about him, --evil-faced men whose every move and look held a menace. A darting hand s.n.a.t.c.hed at his fob-seals, but Barnabas smote, swift and hard, and the three were reduced, for the moment, to two. Thus with his back to the wall stood Barnabas, fists clenched, grim of mouth, and with eyes quick and bright; wherefore, beholding him in this posture, his a.s.sailants hesitated. But the diamonds sparkled at them from his cravat, the bunch of seals gleamed at them from his fob, and the fallen man having risen, albeit unsteadily, they began to close in upon him. Then, all at once, even as he poised himself to meet their rush, a distant voice uttered a sharp, warning cry, whereat the three, spattering curses, incontinent took to their heels, and were gone with a thud of flying feet.

For a moment Barnabas stood dazed by the suddenness of it all, then, stooping to recover hat and cane, glanced about, and saw that he was in a dirty, narrow street, or rather alley. Now up this alley a man was approaching, very deliberately, for as he came, he appeared to be perusing a small book. He was a short, broad-shouldered man, a mild-faced man of a sober habit of dress, with a broad-brimmed hat upon his head--a hat higher in the crown than was the custom, and a remarkably n.o.bbly stick beneath his arm; otherwise, and in all respects, he was a very ordinary-looking man indeed, and as he walked, book in hand, might have been some small tradesman busily casting up his profit and loss, albeit he had a bright and roving eye.

Being come up with Barnabas, he stopped, closed his book upon his finger, touched the broad rim of his hat, and looked at Barnabas, or to be exact, at the third left-hand b.u.t.ton of his coat.

"Anything stole, sir?" he inquired hopefully.

"No," answered Barnabas, "no, I think not."

"Ah, then you won't be vantin' to mek a charge ag'in 'em, sir?"

"No,--besides, they've escaped."

"Escaped, Lord no, sir, they've only run avay, I can allus put my 'ooks on 'em,--I spotted 'em, d'ye see. And I know 'em, Lord love you!

--like a feyther! They vas Bunty f.a.gan, Dancin' James, and Vistlin'

d.i.c.k, two buzmen an' a prig."

"What do you mean?" inquired Barnabas, beginning to eye the man askance for all his obtrusive mildness.

"I means two pickpockets and a thief, sir. It vas Vistlin' d.i.c.k as you give such a 'leveller' to,--a rare pretty knock-down I vill say, sir,--never saw a cleaner--Oh! they're a bad lot, they are, 'specially Vistlin' d.i.c.k, an' it's lucky for you as I 'appened to come this vay."

"Why, do you mean to say," said Barnabas, staring at the mild-faced man, "do you want me to believe that it was the sight of you that sent them running?"

"Vell, there veren't n.o.body else to, as I could see, sir," said the man, with a gentle smile and shake of the head. "Volks ain't partial to me in these yere parts, and as to them three, they're a bad lot, they are, but Vistlin' d.i.c.k's the vorst--mark my vords, 'e'll come to be topped yet."

"What do you mean by 'topped'?"

"V'y, I means scragged, sir," answered the man, his roving eye glancing continually up and down the alley,

"I means 'anged, sir,--Lord love you, it's in 'is face--never see a more promising mug, consequent, I 've got Vistlin' d.i.c.k down in my little book 'ere, along vith a lot of other promising vuns."

"But why in your book?"

"Veil, d' ye see, I keeps a record of all the likely coves, Capital Coves as you might call 'em--" Here the mild man jerked his head convulsively to one side, rolled up his eyes, and protruded his tongue, all in hideous pantomime, and was immediately his placid self again.

"Ah! you mean--hanged?" said Barnabas.

"As ever vas, sir, capital punishment. And I goes round reg'lar jest to keep an eye on my capital coves. Lord! I vatches over 'em all--like a feyther. Theer's some volks as collects books, an' some volks as collects picters an' old coins, but I collects capital coves,--names and faces. The faces I keeps 'ere," and he tapped his placid forehead, "the names I keeps 'ere," and he tapped the little book. "It's my trade d' ye see, and though there's better trades, still there's trades as is vorse, an' that's summat, ain't it?"

"And what might your trade be?" inquired Barnabas, as they walked on together along the narrow alley.

"Veil, sir, I'm vot they calls a bashaw of the pigs--but I'm more than that."

"Pray," said Barnabas, "what do you mean?" For answer the man smiled, and half drew from his pocket a short staff surmounted by a crown.

"Ah!" said Barnabas, "a Bow Street Runner?"

"And my name is Shrig, sir, Jasper Shrig. You'll have heard it afore, o'course."

"No!" said Barnabas. Mr. Shrig seemed placidly surprised, and vented a gentle sigh.

"It's pretty vell known, in London, sir, though it ain't a pretty name, I'll allow. Ye-es, I've 'eard prettier, but then it's better than a good many, and that's sum-mat, ain't it? And then, as I said afore, it's pretty vell known."

"How so?"

"Vell, sir, there be some as 'as a leanin' to one branch o' the profession, and some to another,--now mine's murders."

"Murders?" said Barnabas, staring.

"Vith a werry big M., sir. V'y, Lord love you, there's been more murderers took and topped through me than any o' the other traps in London, it's a nat'ral gift vith me. Ye see, I collects 'em--afore the fact, as ye might say. I can smell 'em out, feel 'em out, taste 'em out, it's jest a nat'ral gift."

"But--how? What do you mean?"

"I means as I'll be valking along a street, say, looking at every face as I pa.s.s. Vell, all at once I'll spot a cove or covess vith vot I calls a capital mug, I'll follow that cove or covess, and by 'ook or by crook I'll find out that there cove or covess's name, and--down it goes in my little book, d' ye see?" and he tapped the little book.

"But surely," said Barnabas, "surely they don't all prove to be murderers?"

"Vell no, sir--that's hardly to be expected,--ye see, some on 'em wanishes away, an' some goes an' dies, but they mostly turns out true capitals--if I only vaits for 'em long enough, and--up they goes."

"And are you always on the lookout for such faces?"

"Yes, sir,--v'en I ain't busy on some case. A man must 'ave some little relaxation, and that's mine. Lord love you, sir, scarcely a day goes by that I don't spot one or two. I calls 'em my children, an' a werry large, an' a werry mixed lot they are too! Rich an' poor, men an' women,--rolling in their coaches an' crawling along the kennel. Aha! if you could look into my little reader an' see the names o' some o' my most promisin' children they'd as-tonish you.

I've been to 'ave a look at a couple of 'em this mornin'. Aha! it would a-maze you if you could look into my little reader."