me? If she sees you— more even than the boy— then we are done for.'
309
He swallowed again. He put the note on the bed, and sat and
looked fearfully at it. He practised his piece. I stood at the window, and watched, and waited. First came twilight, then came dark; and with the dark came Gentleman, slipping from Mr Ibbs's door with his hat at an angle and that scarlet cloth at his throat.
I saw him go; gave it another half-an- hour, to be sure; then looked at Charles.
'Put your coat on,' I said. 'It's time.'
He grew pale. I gave him his cap and his scarf, and turned up his collar.
'Have you got the letter? Very good. Be brave, now. No funny
stuff. I'll be watching, don't forget.'
He did not speak. He went, and after a moment I saw him cross the street and stand before Mr Ibbs's. He walked like a man on his way to the rope. He pulled his scarf a little higher about his face, then he looked round, to where he knew I stood behind the shutter.— 'Don't look round, you fool!' I thought, when he did that. Then he plucked at his scarf again; and then he knocked. I wondered if he might run from the step. He looked as though he would like to. But before he could, the door was opened, by Dainty. They spoke, and she left him waiting while she went in to Mr Ibbs; then she came back. She glanced up and down the street. Like a fool, he glanced with her, as if to see what she looked for. Then she nodded, and stepped back. He went in, and the door was closed. I imagined her turning the latch with her neat white hand. Then I waited.
Say five minutes passed. Say ten.
What did I suppose would happen? Perhaps, that the door would open, Mrs Sucksby c o m e f l y i n g o u t , w i t h M r I b b s b e h i n d h e r ; p e r h a p s o n l y t h a t s h e ' d g o t o h e r room— show a light, make a sign— I don't know. But the house stayed quiet, and when at last the door did open, there came only Charles again, with Dainty still behind him; and then again, the door was shut. Charles stood, and quivered. I was used by now to his quivers, and think I knew from the look of this one that things were bad. I saw him look up at our
window and think about running.— 'Don't you run, you fuckster!' I said, and hit the glass; and perhaps he heard it, for he put down his head and came back across the street and up the stairs. By the time he reached the room his face was crimson, and slick with tears and snot.
'God help me, I didn't mean to do it!' he said, bursting in. 'God help me, she found me out and made me!'
'Made you what?' I said. 'What happened? What happened, you little tick?'
I got hold of him and shook him. He put his hands before his face.
'She got the letter off me and read it!' he said. 'Who did?'
'Miss Maud! Miss Maud!'
I looked at him in horror. 'She saw me,' he said, 'and she knew me. I did it all, just as you said. I gave the watch, and the tall man took it and opened its back. He thought my scarf was queer, and asked if I'd the toothache. I said I did. He showed me a pair of nippers, that he said were good for drawing teeth. I think he was teasing. The dark boy was there, burning paper. He called me a— a pigeon. The red-headed girl didn't 310
give me a look. But the lady, your ma, was sleeping; and I tried to reach her side, but Miss Maud saw the letter in my hand. Then she looked at me, and knew me. She said,
"Come here, boy, you've hurt your hand," and she got hold of me before the others could see. She had been playing cards at a table, and she held the letter under the table and read it, and she twisted my fingers so hard— '
His words began to dissolve, like salt in the water of his tears.
'Stop crying!' I said. 'Stop crying for once in your life, or I swear, I'll hit you! Tell me now, what did she do?'
He took a breath, and put his hand to his pocket, and brought something out.
'She did nothing,' he said. 'But she gave me this. She took it from the table where she sat. She gave it to me, as if it might be a secret; and then the tall man closed the watch up and she pushed me away. He gave me a pound, and I took it, and the red-headed girl let me
out. Miss Maud watched me go, and her eyes were like eyes on fire; but she never said a word. She only gave me this, and I think she must have meant it for you but, oh, miss! you can call me a fool, but God help me if I know what it's for!'
He handed it over. She had made it very small, and it took me a moment to unfold it and know what it was. When I did, I held it, and turned it, then turned it again; then I stood gazing stupidly at
it.
'Just this?' I said. Charles nodded.
It was a playing card. It was one of the playing cards from her old French deck at Briar. It was the Two of Hearts. It had got greasy, and was marked by the folds she had put in it; but it still had that crease, in the shape of her heel, across one of its painted red pips.
I held it, and remembered sitting with her in her parlour, springing the pack to tell her fortune. She had worn her blue gown. She had put her hand before her mouth. Now you are frightening me! she had said.
How she must have laughed about it, later!
'She's making game of me,' I said, my voice not perfectly steady. 'She has sent me this— you're sure there's no message on it, no mark or sign?— she has sent me this, to tease me. Why else?'
'Miss, I don't know. She took it from the table-top. She took it quick, and there was a— a wildness, about her eye.'
'What sort of a wildness?'
'I can't say. She looked, not like herself. She wore no gloves. Her hair was curled and queer. There was a glass beside her place— I don't like to say— I think it had gin in it.'
'Gin?'
We looked at each other.
'What shall we do?' he asked me.
I did not know.
'I must think,' I said, beginning to walk about. 'I must think what she'll do. She'll tell Gentleman— won't she?— and show him our letter. Then he'll move, very quick, to find us. They didn't see you come back here? Someone else might've, though. We 311
can't be sure. We've had luck on our side, so far; now our luck's turning. Oh, if only I'd never taken that woman's wedding- gown!— I knew it would make a bad fortune. Luck's like the tide: it turns, then gets faster and can't be stopped.'
'Don't say it!' cried Charles. He was wringing his hands. 'Send the lady her gown back, can't you?'
'You can't cheat luck like that. The best you can do is, try and outface it.' 'Outface it?'
I went to the window again, and gazed at the house. 'Mrs Sucksby is in there now,' I said. 'Won't one word from me do it? When did I ever let myself be frightened by John Vroom? Dainty I think won't harm me; nor Mr Ibbs. And Maud sounds muddled by gin. Charles, I've been a fool to wait at all. Give me my knife. We are going over.'
He stood, open-mouthed, and did nothing. I got the knife myself, then took him by his wrist and led him from the room, down the slippery staircase. A man and a girl stood at the bottom, quarrelling; but their voices faded and they turned their heads to watch us as we went by. Perhaps they saw my knife. I had nowhere to hide it. The street was blowing about with gusts of grit and paper, the night still hot. My head was bare.
Anyone who saw me now would know me for Susan Trinder; but it was too late to care. I ran with Charles to Mr Ibbs's door, knocked on it, then left him on the step while I stood aside with my back to the wall. The door was opened after a minute, just an inch.
'You've come too late.' It was Dainty's voice. 'Mr Ibbs says— Oh! It's you again. What now? Changed your mind?'