Part 22 (1/2)
THE TWO ROBINS.
Arthur turned into the court without hesitation to see what The Two Robins could do for him. Four or five men were standing together round the door of the house, which was at the bottom of the court, facing the entrance from the street. The men were all listening to one other man, better dressed than the rest, who was telling his audience something, in a low voice, in which they were apparently very much interested.
On entering the pa.s.sage, Arthur was pa.s.sed by a stranger with a knapsack in his hand, who was evidently leaving the house.
”No,” said the traveler with the knapsack, turning round and addressing himself cheerfully to a fat, sly-looking, bald-headed man, with a dirty white ap.r.o.n on, who had followed him down the pa.s.sage, ”no, Mr.
Landlord, I am not easily scared by trifles; but I don't mind confessing that I can't quite stand _that_.”
It occurred to young Holliday, the moment he heard these words, that the stranger had been asked an exorbitant price for a bed at The Two Robins, and that he was unable or unwilling to pay it. The moment his back was turned, Arthur, comfortably conscious of his own well-filled pockets, addressed himself in a great hurry, for fear any other benighted traveler should slip in and forestall him, to the sly-looking landlord with the dirty ap.r.o.n and the bald head.
”If you have got a bed to let,” he said, ”and if that gentleman who has just gone out won't pay your price for it, I will.”
The sly landlord looked hard at Arthur. ”Will you, sir?” he asked, in a meditative, doubtful way.
”Name your price,” said young Holliday, thinking that the landlord's hesitation sprang from some boorish distrust of him. ”Name your price, and I'll give you the money at once, if you like.”
”Are you game for five s.h.i.+llings?” inquired the landlord, rubbing his stubby double chin and looking up thoughtfully at the ceiling above him.
Arthur nearly laughed in the man's face; but, thinking it prudent to control himself, offered the five s.h.i.+llings as seriously as he could.
The sly landlord held out his hand, then suddenly drew it back again.
”You're acting all fair and aboveboard by me,” he said, ”and, before I take your money, I'll do the same by you. Look here; this is how it stands. You can have a bed all to yourself for five s.h.i.+llings, but you can't have more than a half share of the room it stands in. Do you see what I mean, young gentleman?”
”Of course I do,” returned Arthur, a little irritably. ”You mean that it is a double-bedded room, and that one of the beds is occupied?”
The land lord nodded his head, and rubbed his double chin harder than ever. Arthur hesitated, and mechanically moved back a step or two toward the door. The idea of sleeping in the same room with a total stranger did not present an attractive prospect to him. He felt more than half inclined to drop his five s.h.i.+llings into his pocket and to go out into the street once more.
”Is it yes or no?” asked the landlord. ”Settle it as quick as you can, because there's lots of people wanting a bed at Doncaster to-night besides you.”
Arthur looked toward the court and heard the rain falling heavily in the street outside. He thought he would ask a question or two before he rashly decided on leaving the shelter of The Two Robins.
”What sort of man is it who has got the other bed?” he inquired. ”Is he a gentleman? I mean, is he a quiet, well-behaved person?”
”The quietest man I ever came across,” said the landlord, rubbing his fat hands stealthily one over the other. ”As sober as a judge, and as regular as clock-work in his habits. It hasn't struck nine, not ten minutes ago, and he's in his bed already. I don't know whether that comes up to your notion of a quiet man: it goes a long way ahead of mine, I can tell you.”
”Is he asleep, do you think?” asked Arthur.
”I know he's asleep,” returned the landlord; ”and, what's more, he's gone off so fast that I'll warrant you don't wake him. This way, sir,”
said the landlord, speaking over young Holliday's shoulder, as if he was addressing some new guest who was approaching the house.
”Here you are,” said Arthur, determined to be beforehand with the stranger, whoever he might be. ”I'll take the bed.” And he handed the five s.h.i.+llings to the landlord, who nodded, dropped the money carelessly into his waistcoat pocket, and lighted a candle.
”Come up and see the room,” said the host of The Two Robins, leading the way to the staircase quite briskly, considering how fat he was.
They mounted to the second floor of the house. The landlord half opened a door fronting the landing, then stopped, and turned round to Arthur.
”It's a fair bargain, mind, on my side as well as on yours,” he said. ”You give me five s.h.i.+llings, and I give you in return a clean, comfortable bed; and I warrant, beforehand, that you won't be interfered with, or annoyed in anyway, by the man who sleeps in the same room with you.” Saying those words, he looked hard, for a moment, in young Holliday's face, and then led the way into the room.
It was larger and cleaner than Arthur had expected it would be. The two beds stood parallel with each other, a s.p.a.ce of about six feet intervening between them. They were both of the same medium size, and both had the same plain white curtains, made to draw, if necessary, all round them.
The occupied bed was the bed nearest the window. The curtains were all drawn round it except the half curtain at the bottom, on the side of the bed furthest from the window. Arthur saw the feet of the sleeping man raising the scanty clothes into a sharp little eminence, as if he was lying flat on his back. He took the candle, and advanced softly to draw the curtain--stopped half way, and listened for a moment--then turned to the landlord.