A Rough Shaking Part 47

Clare heard but a portion here and there of the conversation going on outside the wooden wall; but it was plain nevertheless that Marway was pressing a creditor to leave him alone until he was married, when he would pay every s.h.i.+lling he owed him.

The young fellow had a persuasive tongue, and boasted he could get the better of even a Jew. Clare heard the money-lender grant him a renewal for three months, when, if Marway did not pay, or were not the accepted suitor of the lady whose fortune was to redeem him, his creditor would take his course.

The moment he perceived they were about to part, Clare hastened from the caravan, and went along the edge of the waste ground, so as to meet Marway on his road back to the town: at the corner of it they came jump together. Marway started when Clare addressed him. Seeing, then, who claimed his attention, he drew himself up.

"Well?" he said.

"Mr. Marway," began Clare, "I heard a great deal of what pa.s.sed between you and old Lewin."

Marway used worse than vulgar language at times, and he did so now, ending with the words,

"A spy! a sneaking spy! Would you like to lick my boot? By Jove, you shall know the taste of it!"

"n.o.body minds being overheard who hasn't something to conceal! If I had low secrets I would not stand up against the side of a caravan when I wanted to talk about them. I was inside. Not to hear you I should have had to stop my ears."

"Why didn't you, then, you low-bred flunkey?"

"Because I had heard of you what made it my duty to listen."

Marway cursed his insolence, and asked what he was doing in such a place. He would report him, he said.

"What I was doing is my business," answered Clare. "Had I known you for an honest man I would not have listened to yours. I should have had no right."

"You tell me to my face I'm a swindler!" said Marway between his teeth, letting out a blow at Clare, which he cleverly dodged.

"I do!"

"I don't know what you mean, but bitterly shall you repent your insolence, you prying rascal! This is your sweet revenge for a blow you had not the courage to return!--to dog me and get hold of my affairs! You cur! You're going to turn informer next, of course, and bear false witness against your neighbour! You shall repent it, I swear!"

"Will it be bearing false witness to say that Miss Shotover does not know the sort of man who wants to marry her? Does she know why he wants to marry her? Does her father know that you are in the clutches of a money-lender?"

Marway caught hold of Clare and threatened to kill him. Clare did not flinch, and he calmed down a little.

"What do you want to square it?" he growled.

"I don't understand you," returned Clare.

"What's the size of your tongue-plaster?"

"I don't know much slang."

"What bribe will silence you then? I hope that is plain enough--even for _your_ comprehension!"

"If I had meant to hold my tongue, I should have held it."

"What do you want, then?"

"To keep you from marrying Miss Shotover."

"By Jove! And suppose I kick you into the gutter, and tell you to mind your own business--what then?"

"I will tell either your father or Mr. Shotover all about it."

"Even you can't be such a fool! What good would it do you? You're not after her yourself, are you?--Ha! ha!--that's it! I didn't nose that!--But come, hang it! where's the _use_?--I'll give you four flimsies--there! Twenty pounds, you idiot! There!"

"Mr. Marway, nothing will make me hold my tongue--not even your promise to drop the thing."

"Then what made you come and cheek me? Impudence?"

"Not at all! I should have been glad enough not to have to do it! I came to you for my own sake."

"That of course!"

"I came because I would do nothing underhand!"

"What are you going to do next, then?"

"I am going to tell Mr. Shotover, or Admiral Marway--I haven't yet made up my mind which."

"What are you going to tell them?"

"That old Lewin has given you three months to get engaged to Miss Shotover, or take the consequences of not being able to pay what you owe him."

"And you don't count it underhand to carry such a tale?"

"I do not. It would have been if I hadn't told you first. I would tell Miss Shotover, only, if she be anything of a girl, she wouldn't believe me."

"I should think not! Come, come, be reasonable! I always thought you a good sort of fellow, though I _was_ rough on you, I confess. There!

take the money, and leave me my chance."

"No. I will save the lady if I can. She shall at least know the sort of man you are."

"Then it's war to the knife, is it?"

"I mean to tell the truth about you."

"Then do your worst. You shall black my boots again."

"If I do, I shall have the penny first."

"You cringing flunkey!"

"I haven't cringed to you, Mr. Marway!"

Marway tried to kick him, failed, and strode into the dark between him and the lamps of the town.

Chapter LXII.