Part 48 (1/2)
The power of speaking tenderly seemed to have been given to him all at once; this and his calling her ”Ida,” struck so upon the girl's agitated feelings that she began to sob.
”Let me, let me go with you! I will forget everything--I will be your child--I will try to love you.--”
She was as weak as water, and would have sunk to the ground if Abraham had not given her his support just in time. He could not find words to soothe her, but pa.s.sed his hand very tenderly over her head.
”We are losing time!” she exclaimed, forcing herself into an appearance of calmness. ”Come at once.”
CHAPTER x.x.x
ELM COURT
In Beaufort Street they only learnt that Waymark had not yet been home.
Thence they drove to the east, and stopped at a police-station, where Abraham saw the inspector. The latter suggested that Mr. Woodstock should go through all the houses which Waymark would have visited; if that search proved fruitless, the police would pursue the matter. Ida insisted on being allowed to accompanying him when the cab stopped at the end of Litany Lane. She gazed about her like one who had been suddenly set down in a new country; this squalor and vileness, so familiar to her of old, affected her strangely under the present conditions. The faces of people at whom she looked remained fresh in her memory for years after; the long confinement and the excitement which now possessed her resulted in preternatural acuteness of observation. Abraham spoke first with several people whom he had already questioned about Waymark, but they had heard nothing since.
”Are you strong enough for this?” he asked Ida. ”Hadn't you better go back to the cab and wait for me!”
”Don't ask me to do that!” she entreated earnestly. ”I _must_ be active. I have strength now for anything.”
Just as she spoke, Mr. Woodstock became aware of a disturbance of some kind in a duty little tobacconist's shop close at hand. There was a small crowd at the door, and the sound of wrangling voices came from within. Such an occurrence was too ordinary to suggest any special significance, but Abraham would not pa.s.s without making some inquiry.
Begging Ida to stand where he left her, he pushed his way into the shop and listened to what was going on. A lad, well known in these parts as ”Lushy d.i.c.k,” was, it appeared, charging the tobacconist with cheating him; he alleged that he had deposited half a sovereign on the counter in payment for a cigar, and the shopman had given him change as if for sixpence, maintaining stoutly that sixpence had been the coin given him, and no half-sovereign at all. When Mr. Woodstock entered, the quarrel had reached a high pitch.
”Arf a quid!” the tobacconist was exclaiming contemptuously. ”I'd like to know where such as you's likely to git arf a quid from.”
Lushy d.i.c.k, stung to recklessness by a succession of such remarks, broke out in vehement self-justification.
”_Would_ yer like to know, y' old ----! Then yer shall, ---- soon! I'm ---- if I don't tell jist the ---- truth, an' take the ---- consequences. It was Slimy as give it me, an' if yer want to know where Slimy got it, yer 'll 'ave to ---- well find out, 'cos I don't know myself.”
”And how came Slimy to give you half a sovereign?” Mr. Woodstock at once interposed, speaking with authority.
”Is that you, Mr. Woodstock?” exclaimed the boy, turning round suddenly at the sound of the voice. ”Now, look 'ere, I'm a-goin' to make a ---- clean breast of it. This 'ere ---- bloke's been a ringin' the changes on me; I'll show him up, an' ---- well chance it. Slimy give me a quid afore he took his ---- hook.”
The lad had clearly been drinking, but had not yet reached the incoherent stage. He spoke in great excitement, repeating constantly his determination to be revenged upon the tobacconist at all costs. It was with difficulty that Mr. Woodstock kept him to the point.
”Why Slimy give it me? Well, I'll jist tell yer, Mr. Woodstock. It was to do a job for him, which I never done it after all. Slimy told me as 'ow I was to go to your orffice at ten o'clock last night, 'an tell you from him as he'd no more 'casion for his room, so he'd sent yer the key, an' yer'd better come as soon as possible an' see as he'd left everything square behind him, an' 'cos he was afraid he'd locked in a friend o' yourn by mistake an' in his hurry.”
”And why the devil didn't you come?” exclaimed Abraham, looking at him in angry surprise.
”'Cos why, Mr. Woodstock? Well, I'll tell yer just the bloomin' truth, an' charnce it. I loss the key out o' my pocket, through 'avin' a ---- hole in it, so I thought as 'ow I'd best just say nothink about neither Slimy nor his room, an' there y'ave it!”
Abraham was out of the shop again on the instant.
”I've found him,” he said to Ida. ”A house round there in the court.”
She walked quickly by his side, a cl.u.s.ter of people following them.
Fortunately, a policeman was just coming from the opposite end of Litany Lane, and Mr. Woodstock secured his services to keep the mob from entering the house where Slimy had lived. As soon as they got inside, the old man begged Ida to remain in a room on the ground floor whilst he went upstairs, and this she consented to do. Reaching the garret, he tried the handle of the door, without effect. Knocking and calling produced no response, and within all was perfectly quiet.